Lazybones
Adventurer
Heh-- I guess I overestimated the level of anticipation of my readership, as only five people read the above post since I put it up this morning. Ah, well. Those reading now can ignore that post, for this afternoon I found a stray hour, and this came out of my keyboard...
* * * * *
Book V, Part 30
“Come on, then!”
The Avatar of Tiamat regarded the genasi with a withering stare from its five heads. For an instant Lok stared fully into the eyes of a god, and although he nearly staggered from the impact of that stare, he managed somehow to hold his ground. Then the red dragon-head came fully up, and from its eyes twin beams of black, roiling energy blasted into Lok’s chest. The connection between the two lasted only an instant, over and done so quickly that an eyeblink would have been enough to miss it.
But that instant was enough, for Lok. He cried out, a cry of heart-wrenching despair as the god reached into him and touched the very essence of his being where his soul resided. Then he stiffened, and in the next heartbeat collapsed into a limp heap.
“Noooo!” Dana cried, but neither she nor the others could do anything to intervene. The Avatar’s draconic heads seemed to smile as it came nearer, the stone floor under them shaking with each monstrous step…
A single sound shattered the deadly scene, the sound of metal striking stone that filled the chamber like a thunderclap. With that sound, the companions felt the magic binding them dissolve, and as their straining muscles gave way they fell clumsily to the cold stone of the cavern floor. Confused, the three of them looked back behind them to the source of the sound.
A dwarf stood there in the entry of the chamber, a familiar face that was now garbed in an expression that oddly seemed to mix sadness and anger.
“Athumba!” Cal cried.
The ancient dwarf carried a thick, gnarled staff in his wrinkled hands—where it had come from they could only guess, as he hadn’t had it the last time they’d seen him. Once more he slammed its butt end into the ground, repeating the sound that they’d heard earlier.
He’d clearly gotten Tiamat’s attention, for all five of the dragon mother’s heads were now fully focused on him, the companions all but forgotten as they huddled between the two figures. Forcing her battered and still reluctant muscles to obey her commands, Dana crawled to where Lok was lying just a few paces from one of the Avatar’s massive claws.
“You…” the god-dragon hissed, the words coming from all five heads at once in a disturbing cacophony. What was even more jarring was at the same instant as the spoken sound each of the companions felt the words in their minds, roughly thrusting their own private thoughts to the side in the full force of the god’s power.
And this was only a physical manifestation of the god, only a partial reflection of all that it truly was.
“You have no business being here!” the Avatar continued, its physical and mental voices filling the cavern much like the echo from the dwarf’s staff.
Athumba spoke simply and plainly in a calm and determined voice. “I have as much right as you, ancient enemy. Did you think that your coming to the Prime would escape notice?”
The dragon did not reply in words, but in the echoes of its mental voice in their minds the companions could hear laughter. “No, I knew that one would come, and it is only fitting that it is you, my old adversary. Though you did not intervene when Gilgeam needed your aid, did you?”
“It was not my place,” the old dwarf replied. “For I never was bound up in the affairs of the Untherics as tightly as you were.”
“No, and for that I missed the chance to destroy both of my most hated foes in one fell swoop. Perhaps mighty AO may give us another chance, someday…”
“You seek another Time of Troubles? A mad wish, even for you.”
“Perhaps, although there is still some small part of me that remembers my mortal life, before my ascension into what I now am. But that part of me that is divine Tiamat remembers what was lost, that part of my divine essence that was stolen from me. I seek only restoration of my full measure; I will not be deprived of what is rightfully mine. I will that I am, and I am that I will. Neither you nor your lackeys will stand in my way!”
“You overestimate yourself.”
“And you underestimate me! Here you are without advantage, and I am not unprepared for your challenge!”
“Nor am I. And I am not the only one that you have offended with your plans here.”
With those words, Lok suddenly shifted slightly, causing Dana to draw back in sudden surprise. With ponderous but inexorable movements the genasi warrior rose to a crouch, and then stood, his axe still clutched tightly in his hand.
“Lok!” Dana breathed in wonder. But when he had lifted himself enough for her to look into his eyes, she saw something… else than the presence of her friend.
Tiamat apparently saw it too, for the dragon’s heads hissed in agitation and anger. “You! You are nothing but a feeble shadow, Old Dwarf. I will make you regret coming here…”
Lok spoke, and his voice too was unfamiliar, a rumbling sound of rocks grating together that seemed to come from a vast cavern deep inside his body. “And I will make you regret the harm you have caused to my people, lizard.”
“This is your final opportunity,” Athumba said. “Desist and depart immediately, or accept the consequences of your choice.”
For an instant—a long time, in the minds of gods—the Avatar seemed to hesitate. But then the chromatic dragon drew itself up to its full height, the others mere specks before it, its terrible and mighty presence filling the cavern with the full power of its being.
“Too long I have waited! You will not stand in my way!”
Later, when they had time to reflect on the matter, the three mortals present and conscious would not be able to clearly describe what happened next, although Cal would spend a goodly portion of his future days trying. The “battle” that took place in the dark cavern lasted all of a few seconds, at least as time was measured on the Material Plane. The best that those present could do was to describe impressions, fleeting glimpses of things that were beyond their perceptions. The image of Tiamat was a familiar one, even more dreadful in the full force of its ambition and frustration and rage. Superimposed on this image was the shadow of an aged dwarf warrior, still potent for all his years, wielding a hammer whose blows carried the force to crack the very foundations of the world. And a final image, a majestic and beautiful dragon, its smooth lines forming an outline of platinum perfection, its eyes holding in them the wisdom of a thousand eras.
The brief clash of gods resounded throughout the world of Toril. Thousands of miles away mortal beings cried out in their slumber, and in the great cities above and below the surface of the earth powerful mages and clerics felt a shudder in the world and wondered at what it portended.
On the myriad outer planes, gods turned their many-seeing eyes momentarily toward the struggle. Some watched with keen interest in the outcome, while others simply viewed the event as a brief distraction before returning to more particular concerns.
And then it was over. The three mortal companions stirred, momentarily confused before memory awoke and realization came flooding back.
The cavern was empty save for them and the unconscious forms of the slaves of the duergar, a gathering of hundreds of bodies as still as a mass grave. But in this place of darkness life still clung tenaciously, and the dreams of those silent figures were no longer tormented by the chill touch of torment and death.
But while the urdunnir and the other captives lived, death had claimed one other upon this battlefield of gods. The three companions gathered around the body of their fallen friend, lying motionless upon the cold, unforgiving stone.
Lok, the warrior genasi, was dead.
* * * * *
Book V, Part 30
“Come on, then!”
The Avatar of Tiamat regarded the genasi with a withering stare from its five heads. For an instant Lok stared fully into the eyes of a god, and although he nearly staggered from the impact of that stare, he managed somehow to hold his ground. Then the red dragon-head came fully up, and from its eyes twin beams of black, roiling energy blasted into Lok’s chest. The connection between the two lasted only an instant, over and done so quickly that an eyeblink would have been enough to miss it.
But that instant was enough, for Lok. He cried out, a cry of heart-wrenching despair as the god reached into him and touched the very essence of his being where his soul resided. Then he stiffened, and in the next heartbeat collapsed into a limp heap.
“Noooo!” Dana cried, but neither she nor the others could do anything to intervene. The Avatar’s draconic heads seemed to smile as it came nearer, the stone floor under them shaking with each monstrous step…
A single sound shattered the deadly scene, the sound of metal striking stone that filled the chamber like a thunderclap. With that sound, the companions felt the magic binding them dissolve, and as their straining muscles gave way they fell clumsily to the cold stone of the cavern floor. Confused, the three of them looked back behind them to the source of the sound.
A dwarf stood there in the entry of the chamber, a familiar face that was now garbed in an expression that oddly seemed to mix sadness and anger.
“Athumba!” Cal cried.
The ancient dwarf carried a thick, gnarled staff in his wrinkled hands—where it had come from they could only guess, as he hadn’t had it the last time they’d seen him. Once more he slammed its butt end into the ground, repeating the sound that they’d heard earlier.
He’d clearly gotten Tiamat’s attention, for all five of the dragon mother’s heads were now fully focused on him, the companions all but forgotten as they huddled between the two figures. Forcing her battered and still reluctant muscles to obey her commands, Dana crawled to where Lok was lying just a few paces from one of the Avatar’s massive claws.
“You…” the god-dragon hissed, the words coming from all five heads at once in a disturbing cacophony. What was even more jarring was at the same instant as the spoken sound each of the companions felt the words in their minds, roughly thrusting their own private thoughts to the side in the full force of the god’s power.
And this was only a physical manifestation of the god, only a partial reflection of all that it truly was.
“You have no business being here!” the Avatar continued, its physical and mental voices filling the cavern much like the echo from the dwarf’s staff.
Athumba spoke simply and plainly in a calm and determined voice. “I have as much right as you, ancient enemy. Did you think that your coming to the Prime would escape notice?”
The dragon did not reply in words, but in the echoes of its mental voice in their minds the companions could hear laughter. “No, I knew that one would come, and it is only fitting that it is you, my old adversary. Though you did not intervene when Gilgeam needed your aid, did you?”
“It was not my place,” the old dwarf replied. “For I never was bound up in the affairs of the Untherics as tightly as you were.”
“No, and for that I missed the chance to destroy both of my most hated foes in one fell swoop. Perhaps mighty AO may give us another chance, someday…”
“You seek another Time of Troubles? A mad wish, even for you.”
“Perhaps, although there is still some small part of me that remembers my mortal life, before my ascension into what I now am. But that part of me that is divine Tiamat remembers what was lost, that part of my divine essence that was stolen from me. I seek only restoration of my full measure; I will not be deprived of what is rightfully mine. I will that I am, and I am that I will. Neither you nor your lackeys will stand in my way!”
“You overestimate yourself.”
“And you underestimate me! Here you are without advantage, and I am not unprepared for your challenge!”
“Nor am I. And I am not the only one that you have offended with your plans here.”
With those words, Lok suddenly shifted slightly, causing Dana to draw back in sudden surprise. With ponderous but inexorable movements the genasi warrior rose to a crouch, and then stood, his axe still clutched tightly in his hand.
“Lok!” Dana breathed in wonder. But when he had lifted himself enough for her to look into his eyes, she saw something… else than the presence of her friend.
Tiamat apparently saw it too, for the dragon’s heads hissed in agitation and anger. “You! You are nothing but a feeble shadow, Old Dwarf. I will make you regret coming here…”
Lok spoke, and his voice too was unfamiliar, a rumbling sound of rocks grating together that seemed to come from a vast cavern deep inside his body. “And I will make you regret the harm you have caused to my people, lizard.”
“This is your final opportunity,” Athumba said. “Desist and depart immediately, or accept the consequences of your choice.”
For an instant—a long time, in the minds of gods—the Avatar seemed to hesitate. But then the chromatic dragon drew itself up to its full height, the others mere specks before it, its terrible and mighty presence filling the cavern with the full power of its being.
“Too long I have waited! You will not stand in my way!”
Later, when they had time to reflect on the matter, the three mortals present and conscious would not be able to clearly describe what happened next, although Cal would spend a goodly portion of his future days trying. The “battle” that took place in the dark cavern lasted all of a few seconds, at least as time was measured on the Material Plane. The best that those present could do was to describe impressions, fleeting glimpses of things that were beyond their perceptions. The image of Tiamat was a familiar one, even more dreadful in the full force of its ambition and frustration and rage. Superimposed on this image was the shadow of an aged dwarf warrior, still potent for all his years, wielding a hammer whose blows carried the force to crack the very foundations of the world. And a final image, a majestic and beautiful dragon, its smooth lines forming an outline of platinum perfection, its eyes holding in them the wisdom of a thousand eras.
The brief clash of gods resounded throughout the world of Toril. Thousands of miles away mortal beings cried out in their slumber, and in the great cities above and below the surface of the earth powerful mages and clerics felt a shudder in the world and wondered at what it portended.
On the myriad outer planes, gods turned their many-seeing eyes momentarily toward the struggle. Some watched with keen interest in the outcome, while others simply viewed the event as a brief distraction before returning to more particular concerns.
And then it was over. The three mortal companions stirred, momentarily confused before memory awoke and realization came flooding back.
The cavern was empty save for them and the unconscious forms of the slaves of the duergar, a gathering of hundreds of bodies as still as a mass grave. But in this place of darkness life still clung tenaciously, and the dreams of those silent figures were no longer tormented by the chill touch of torment and death.
But while the urdunnir and the other captives lived, death had claimed one other upon this battlefield of gods. The three companions gathered around the body of their fallen friend, lying motionless upon the cold, unforgiving stone.
Lok, the warrior genasi, was dead.
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)! Congrats on the NWN honor, when do we get to sign up for a game?
