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Al-Qarin: Into the Desert (3-1-24)
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<blockquote data-quote="EternalNewbie" data-source="post: 4919815" data-attributes="member: 6489"><p>Khalid picked his way carefully beneath the boughs of the great trees, the events of the previous day weighing heavily on his mind. Azarek and Gorak had taken out their anger on the unconscious Dwerro, offering them the same quarter offered human soldiers. Amidst the carnage, they were somewhat surprised to discover that the strange looking Dwerro had survived. Badly wounded, he apparently stayed conscious long enough to staunch the worst of his wounds, before lapsing into a coma. Stripped, bandaged and bound under Azarek's watch, they decided to keep him alive for questioning, assuming he was some sort of leader, or elite commando. After leading them safely into the woods, Gorak had shifted form and set off for Caer Morag to inform Nargamon of their failure.</p><p></p><p>He hadn't come out here to brood, he didn't have that luxury, but inevitably his thoughts turned to Shayla. Her death had brought the grim realities of their situation crashing down and while he grieved for her as deep as he grieved for his own parents when they passed, he knew that now, more than ever, he had to rely on his own strength to thwart his enemies. And therein lay the problem. His research hinted at power exponentially greater than he now wielded, but the only method of unlocking it required holding four complex formula in his mind at once. His only attempt to achieve that level of power had bordered on the catastrophic, and since then, he had struggled for weeks to simplify the spell, to no avail.</p><p></p><p>The situation had changed and the solution now lay within his grasp. He recognized the expanding boundaries of his ability, the fruit of the relentless honing in the face of powerful and determined foes. Forced to concentrate beyond reason, he had channeled more raw energy in yesterday's titanic struggle than ever before. The intricate arcane words rolled almost unceasingly from his tongue throughout the entire battle, and when they were finally turned away in defeat, his voice had been so hoarse from chanting, he could barely speak.</p><p></p><p>Khalid knew that the time had come to once again test the limits of his skill. Settling to his knees in the center of a sun dappled clearing, he took a deep breath and focused his thoughts inward. An image of Shayla, drifting down slowly through the air, shattered his calm. Sighing heavily, Khalid opened his eyes and took in the beauty around him. Everywhere, lush green trees swayed in the breeze, while a long butterfly danced and flitted between the shafts of golden sunlight streaming through the branches overhead. Had she been here, Shayla would have...well, probably been bored to tears. The thought brought a wry grin to his face.</p><p></p><p>Abandoning his work for a moment, he closed his eyes and slipped back into reverie. Memories of Shayla bubbled up from the turmoil in his mind. The first time he met her, standing in the doorway of his tiny hovel in Gem-Sharad. His smile broadened as he remembered the shock he felt at her appearance in Gorak's camp. The casual ease with which she abandoned her life of luxury to join two shiftless vagrants of questionable moral character had confounded him at first, until he got to know her. He'd met few other people for whom emotion and action were so intimately entwined. The fact that her temperament was as fiery as the magic she channeled was initially a source of chronic indigestion to him, but in time became one of her most endearing traits. No matter what lay before them, he had always counted on her, knowing that at his side was fury, power and courage that no enemy could match.</p><p></p><p>He allowed those pleasant thoughts to occupy his mind for several minutes, finding that the memory of the passion with which she had lived her brief time blunted the sharp edge of his grief somewhat. Relaxed, and at peace, he opened his eyes and returned his attention to the task at hand. Chanting a simple mantra, one taught to every lowly apprentice to help clear the mind and gauge distances, he emptied his mind of all distraction. Slipping into the strange spatial awareness that accompanied the chant, each leaf and twig leapt out at him in crisp relief. Slowly he let his eyes unfocus and the splendor of the tiny glade faded away. The first of the formulae leapt into his thoughts almost unbidden, followed quickly by the second. The threads of magic began to gather around him as he struggled to hold the weave, denying it the outlet it craved. The third formula was more difficult, and the variables began to slip away from him. Beads of sweat began to collect on his brow, rolling down his face and dampening his scraggy black beard. His breathing quickened as the formulas threatened run together, then evened out as he regained control. Never before had he held so many complex calculations in his thoughts for so long. Opening a magical conduit, shaping and controlling it took mere seconds to enact a spell. Minutes had passed and still he maintained his focus. Ever so slowly, he brought the fourth and final calculation into play.</p><p></p><p>It happened almost instantly. He felt a strange sense of exhilaration as the boundaries of his consciousness expanded. Power, heretofore unknown to him, coursed through his body. He could practically see reality shifting around him. The four formula settled easily in his mind and for once in his life, he did not need to struggle to control the magic, it flooded every inch of his body. For a brief instant, he understood how Shayla must have felt.</p><p></p><p>The thought shattered his concentration and the formula vanished from his mind. The magic evaporated from him, as quickly as it came. Disheartened, he groaned as he stood up slowly, muscles aching from resting so long in the same position. He turned to head back to their meager camp, then stopped. Something was different. With barely a thought, he reopened another conduit, easily drawing forth a small amount of power from the nether. Even without his focus, the magic remained, enveloping him, swirling through his mind and body. A flash of insight struck him, and for a brief moment his thoughts turned to Ruwayd. Settling into place like the tumblers of an opened lock, the solution to a problem he hadn't even considered came to him. Closing his eyes, he reached out into the void.</p><p></p><p>A second later, Azarek came crashing through the brush. His shirt was open, and his long black hair, was loose, mingled with his beard. It was clear that whatever he was doing, he had abandoned it in haste. He held his sword, point low as he scanned the forest. “Whut's going on! Y'alright?” Seeing no immediate danger, he glared at Khalid over the tips of his horns. “If this is some kinda joke...” he growled.</p><p></p><p><em>No joke. Just an experiment.</em> Khalid replied.</p><p></p><p>Azarek's eyes widened. It was obvious he had understood, even though Khalid's lips had not moved. An evil grin replaced the look of surprise. “That's a neat trick.”</p><p></p><p><em>Indeed.</em>*</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * * * * * * * * *</p><p></p><p>Exhausted, Khalid returned to the camp to find that Gorak had returned from Caer Morag. All of the pride at the morning's successes vanished when he laid eyes on Shayla's unmoving form. Gorak had wound back the blanket, and was gently cleaning her face, wiping away the dried blood. He stopped and looked up as Khalid approached.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, you might have at least waited, yes, waited for me, before preparing her body,” he admonished.</p><p></p><p>“I did.” Gorak grunted. “This ain't the right place.”</p><p></p><p>“Indeed. I ventured, yes, ventured out into the forest this morning. I think perhaps I found a suitable, yes, suitable location.”</p><p></p><p>“Good.” He gently picked up her shrouded body. When Azarek, leaning against a tree and watching with undisguised curiosity, moved to follow, he growled. “You stay behind. This is personal.” Azarek's expression hardened, but with a glance at Khalid, who nodded, he shrugged and pulled a dagger from his boot, absently paring his nails as they left the clearing.</p><p></p><p>Khalid and Gorak walked in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. When the reached the clearing, Gorak looked around and grunted, “Yer right, this is perfect.” He sniffed at the air. “There's water nearby. I'll be back.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, should I begin, to, ah, yes, should I do anything?” Khalid asked haltingly.</p><p></p><p>Gorak didn't break stride. “Nah. I'll be back in a bit,” he called back over his shoulder, before vanishing into the forest.</p><p></p><p>Khalid, feeling somewhat useless, picked up where Gorak left off. He brushed back her long auburn curls and was struck with how peaceful she looked. The thought brought tears to his eyes. In life, she had been anything but, and seeing her lying their, still and unmoving, bereft of the spirit and fire that had burned so brightly, overwhelmed him with sorrow. He barely noticed when Gorak returned. Slowly he shook off the grief that held him motionless.</p><p></p><p>Gorak walked around the clearing, digging out four polished braziers from his pack and setting them up in a diamond around the clearing. Khalid glanced up through the trees, trying to see the sun, and was surprised to find that several hours had passed. Blinking, he turned back to Gorak to find him laying out several smooth birch branches in a neat pile in the center of the braziers. Watching silently for a few moments, he finally spoke, “Ah, Gorak, are you sure a pyre is appropriate? I admit, I never discussed the topic with Shayla, but perhaps being buried here, in the forest, would be more in keeping with her heritage?”</p><p></p><p>“Let me do this my way Khalid,” he grumbled.</p><p></p><p>Respecting his wishes, Khalid withdrew slightly, and watched as he finished arranging the branches. Over top of them, Gorak laid down a carpet of grasses and vines. Somewhat bewildered, Khalid wracked his memory, trying to recall everything he knew about orcish funerary rights. Having made a habit of keeping as much distance as possible between himself and Gorak's kin, he didn't come up with much, but from what he'd seen so far led him to believe that more cutlery would be involved. Gorak continued his ritual in silence, not even acknowledging Khalid's increasingly restless presence. Digging into the soft earth with his bare hands, he covered the pile with dirt before sprinkling the contents of his waterskin on it. In all of his preparations, he paid no attention to her actual body, circling the mound several times before reaching into a pouch at his waist.</p><p></p><p>Khalid couldn't make out what he held in his hand, but the effect when he tossed it into the braziers was instantaneous. Smoke, heavy and acrid burst from the pots, swirling up into the clearing. A gust of wind blew a wisp of it into Khalid's face and he shied back instinctively, reaching to cover his nose but he found that it didn't burn his lungs as he would have expected. In fact, it was almost...invigorating. Apparently satisfied, Gorak shrugged off his tattered vest, stepped into the diamond and settled to his knees, facing slightly away from Khalid. Eyes closed and head bowed, he extended his arms outward. Slowly and rhythmically, his hands began to clench and unclench as the smoke continued to swirl from the braziers. The slight breeze in the air should have swept the glade clear, but strangely, the smoke seemed to have a life of its own, eddying and pooling around them.</p><p></p><p>Feeling light headed from the smoke and mesmerized by the strange ceremony, Khalid couldn't have interrupted even if he had wanted to. A rumbling drone started low in Gorak's chest, building slowly as he turned his head to the sky. His unseeing gaze swept over Khalid, who was startled to see that his eyes had rolled back so only the whites were showing. The smoke overhead began to swirl into a vortex above them and the hair on the back of Khalid's neck rose as he felt power unlike any he had ever experienced gathering around them. Jets of flame erupted from the bronze braziers, leaping and dancing into the air. Khalid realized his heart was beating in time to Gorak's flexing hands and the throbbing litany. The sound of Gorak's voice became impossibly loud as the chant took on a life of its own, each word seemingly ripped from his throat. Head rolling on his shoulders, the muscles in his back rippled and bunched as Gorak surrendered himself to the magic. From the earth in front of him, a tiny shoot sprang up, grasping and searching as it slowly uncurled into the air. It was joined by another, and then a third as the ground in front of Gorak began to writhe. Buoyed by the surging plants, the willow branches appeared, jutting through the morass. In an instant, vines shot upwards, snaking around wood. The fires turned white hot and Khalid was forced to squint through the heat, while overhead the smoke boiled and churned in a whirling maelstrom.</p><p></p><p>Through the haze of smoke and throbbing chant, a thought struck Khalid and shattered his eerie calm. Impossible as it seemed, the strange plant rising up in front of Gorak almost resembled a hand. In a second, there was no doubt. The construct arched to the ground as though pulling itself free from the earth, and surging in time with Gorak's voice, a head and shoulders appeared. A sheen of mud flowed upwards over the branches as more vines and grasses wrapped themselves around the emerging skeletal frame.</p><p></p><p>Gorak arched backwards, muscles quivering as he struggled to raise his arms, mimicking the being in front of him. The words streaming from his mouth blurred into an incoherent roar and it seemed beyond belief that his lungs could contain that much breath. With a final surge, he jerked upright, bringing his hands together over his head. A sound like a thunderclap split the vale, sending Khalid sprawling backwards and snuffing out the flames. The shroud around Shayla's body collapsed as her body turned to dust. The creature in front of Gorak turned back its head as the smoke collected into a funnel cloud, rushing down. Silence, as oppressive as the roar of Gorak's chant, enveloped them.</p><p></p><p>Stunned and confused, Khalid clambered to his feet as Gorak pitched over, toppling one of the glowing braziers. Blinking in the sunlight that once again flooded the clearing, Khalid shook his head, trying to make sense of what lay before him. Curled in a tight ball on the earth, streaked with mud and leaves was the pale form of a woman. Naked and shivering, long black hair covered her face. Khalid refused to allow himself to hope, to believe, until she turned her face upward. It was Shayla, there was no doubt. And yet it wasn't. Her features were finer, cheekbones more pronounced. Her green eyes were now jet black and their alluring slant was now exotic, almost alien. Where she had been slight before, now she seemed almost frail.</p><p></p><p>Transfixed, Khalid shuffled forward hesitantly. “Ah, Gorak...” His whispered voice shattered the unearthly quiet in the glade. “What have you done?” Gorak's only response was a tortured wheeze, as he fought weakly to push himself upright. At the sound of his voice, Shayla's head jerked around towards him. Looking into her eyes, the faint hope that flared within him vanished, as she stared back without recognition. Then she began to scream.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * * * * * * * * *</p><p>Notes:</p><p>* Woot! Let the min-maxing begin! Nothing like a level in a front loaded prestige class to ratchet up your power level.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="EternalNewbie, post: 4919815, member: 6489"] Khalid picked his way carefully beneath the boughs of the great trees, the events of the previous day weighing heavily on his mind. Azarek and Gorak had taken out their anger on the unconscious Dwerro, offering them the same quarter offered human soldiers. Amidst the carnage, they were somewhat surprised to discover that the strange looking Dwerro had survived. Badly wounded, he apparently stayed conscious long enough to staunch the worst of his wounds, before lapsing into a coma. Stripped, bandaged and bound under Azarek's watch, they decided to keep him alive for questioning, assuming he was some sort of leader, or elite commando. After leading them safely into the woods, Gorak had shifted form and set off for Caer Morag to inform Nargamon of their failure. He hadn't come out here to brood, he didn't have that luxury, but inevitably his thoughts turned to Shayla. Her death had brought the grim realities of their situation crashing down and while he grieved for her as deep as he grieved for his own parents when they passed, he knew that now, more than ever, he had to rely on his own strength to thwart his enemies. And therein lay the problem. His research hinted at power exponentially greater than he now wielded, but the only method of unlocking it required holding four complex formula in his mind at once. His only attempt to achieve that level of power had bordered on the catastrophic, and since then, he had struggled for weeks to simplify the spell, to no avail. The situation had changed and the solution now lay within his grasp. He recognized the expanding boundaries of his ability, the fruit of the relentless honing in the face of powerful and determined foes. Forced to concentrate beyond reason, he had channeled more raw energy in yesterday's titanic struggle than ever before. The intricate arcane words rolled almost unceasingly from his tongue throughout the entire battle, and when they were finally turned away in defeat, his voice had been so hoarse from chanting, he could barely speak. Khalid knew that the time had come to once again test the limits of his skill. Settling to his knees in the center of a sun dappled clearing, he took a deep breath and focused his thoughts inward. An image of Shayla, drifting down slowly through the air, shattered his calm. Sighing heavily, Khalid opened his eyes and took in the beauty around him. Everywhere, lush green trees swayed in the breeze, while a long butterfly danced and flitted between the shafts of golden sunlight streaming through the branches overhead. Had she been here, Shayla would have...well, probably been bored to tears. The thought brought a wry grin to his face. Abandoning his work for a moment, he closed his eyes and slipped back into reverie. Memories of Shayla bubbled up from the turmoil in his mind. The first time he met her, standing in the doorway of his tiny hovel in Gem-Sharad. His smile broadened as he remembered the shock he felt at her appearance in Gorak's camp. The casual ease with which she abandoned her life of luxury to join two shiftless vagrants of questionable moral character had confounded him at first, until he got to know her. He'd met few other people for whom emotion and action were so intimately entwined. The fact that her temperament was as fiery as the magic she channeled was initially a source of chronic indigestion to him, but in time became one of her most endearing traits. No matter what lay before them, he had always counted on her, knowing that at his side was fury, power and courage that no enemy could match. He allowed those pleasant thoughts to occupy his mind for several minutes, finding that the memory of the passion with which she had lived her brief time blunted the sharp edge of his grief somewhat. Relaxed, and at peace, he opened his eyes and returned his attention to the task at hand. Chanting a simple mantra, one taught to every lowly apprentice to help clear the mind and gauge distances, he emptied his mind of all distraction. Slipping into the strange spatial awareness that accompanied the chant, each leaf and twig leapt out at him in crisp relief. Slowly he let his eyes unfocus and the splendor of the tiny glade faded away. The first of the formulae leapt into his thoughts almost unbidden, followed quickly by the second. The threads of magic began to gather around him as he struggled to hold the weave, denying it the outlet it craved. The third formula was more difficult, and the variables began to slip away from him. Beads of sweat began to collect on his brow, rolling down his face and dampening his scraggy black beard. His breathing quickened as the formulas threatened run together, then evened out as he regained control. Never before had he held so many complex calculations in his thoughts for so long. Opening a magical conduit, shaping and controlling it took mere seconds to enact a spell. Minutes had passed and still he maintained his focus. Ever so slowly, he brought the fourth and final calculation into play. It happened almost instantly. He felt a strange sense of exhilaration as the boundaries of his consciousness expanded. Power, heretofore unknown to him, coursed through his body. He could practically see reality shifting around him. The four formula settled easily in his mind and for once in his life, he did not need to struggle to control the magic, it flooded every inch of his body. For a brief instant, he understood how Shayla must have felt. The thought shattered his concentration and the formula vanished from his mind. The magic evaporated from him, as quickly as it came. Disheartened, he groaned as he stood up slowly, muscles aching from resting so long in the same position. He turned to head back to their meager camp, then stopped. Something was different. With barely a thought, he reopened another conduit, easily drawing forth a small amount of power from the nether. Even without his focus, the magic remained, enveloping him, swirling through his mind and body. A flash of insight struck him, and for a brief moment his thoughts turned to Ruwayd. Settling into place like the tumblers of an opened lock, the solution to a problem he hadn't even considered came to him. Closing his eyes, he reached out into the void. A second later, Azarek came crashing through the brush. His shirt was open, and his long black hair, was loose, mingled with his beard. It was clear that whatever he was doing, he had abandoned it in haste. He held his sword, point low as he scanned the forest. “Whut's going on! Y'alright?” Seeing no immediate danger, he glared at Khalid over the tips of his horns. “If this is some kinda joke...” he growled. [I]No joke. Just an experiment.[/I] Khalid replied. Azarek's eyes widened. It was obvious he had understood, even though Khalid's lips had not moved. An evil grin replaced the look of surprise. “That's a neat trick.” [I]Indeed.[/I]* [CENTER]* * * * * * * * * *[/CENTER] Exhausted, Khalid returned to the camp to find that Gorak had returned from Caer Morag. All of the pride at the morning's successes vanished when he laid eyes on Shayla's unmoving form. Gorak had wound back the blanket, and was gently cleaning her face, wiping away the dried blood. He stopped and looked up as Khalid approached. “Ah, you might have at least waited, yes, waited for me, before preparing her body,” he admonished. “I did.” Gorak grunted. “This ain't the right place.” “Indeed. I ventured, yes, ventured out into the forest this morning. I think perhaps I found a suitable, yes, suitable location.” “Good.” He gently picked up her shrouded body. When Azarek, leaning against a tree and watching with undisguised curiosity, moved to follow, he growled. “You stay behind. This is personal.” Azarek's expression hardened, but with a glance at Khalid, who nodded, he shrugged and pulled a dagger from his boot, absently paring his nails as they left the clearing. Khalid and Gorak walked in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. When the reached the clearing, Gorak looked around and grunted, “Yer right, this is perfect.” He sniffed at the air. “There's water nearby. I'll be back.” “Ah, should I begin, to, ah, yes, should I do anything?” Khalid asked haltingly. Gorak didn't break stride. “Nah. I'll be back in a bit,” he called back over his shoulder, before vanishing into the forest. Khalid, feeling somewhat useless, picked up where Gorak left off. He brushed back her long auburn curls and was struck with how peaceful she looked. The thought brought tears to his eyes. In life, she had been anything but, and seeing her lying their, still and unmoving, bereft of the spirit and fire that had burned so brightly, overwhelmed him with sorrow. He barely noticed when Gorak returned. Slowly he shook off the grief that held him motionless. Gorak walked around the clearing, digging out four polished braziers from his pack and setting them up in a diamond around the clearing. Khalid glanced up through the trees, trying to see the sun, and was surprised to find that several hours had passed. Blinking, he turned back to Gorak to find him laying out several smooth birch branches in a neat pile in the center of the braziers. Watching silently for a few moments, he finally spoke, “Ah, Gorak, are you sure a pyre is appropriate? I admit, I never discussed the topic with Shayla, but perhaps being buried here, in the forest, would be more in keeping with her heritage?” “Let me do this my way Khalid,” he grumbled. Respecting his wishes, Khalid withdrew slightly, and watched as he finished arranging the branches. Over top of them, Gorak laid down a carpet of grasses and vines. Somewhat bewildered, Khalid wracked his memory, trying to recall everything he knew about orcish funerary rights. Having made a habit of keeping as much distance as possible between himself and Gorak's kin, he didn't come up with much, but from what he'd seen so far led him to believe that more cutlery would be involved. Gorak continued his ritual in silence, not even acknowledging Khalid's increasingly restless presence. Digging into the soft earth with his bare hands, he covered the pile with dirt before sprinkling the contents of his waterskin on it. In all of his preparations, he paid no attention to her actual body, circling the mound several times before reaching into a pouch at his waist. Khalid couldn't make out what he held in his hand, but the effect when he tossed it into the braziers was instantaneous. Smoke, heavy and acrid burst from the pots, swirling up into the clearing. A gust of wind blew a wisp of it into Khalid's face and he shied back instinctively, reaching to cover his nose but he found that it didn't burn his lungs as he would have expected. In fact, it was almost...invigorating. Apparently satisfied, Gorak shrugged off his tattered vest, stepped into the diamond and settled to his knees, facing slightly away from Khalid. Eyes closed and head bowed, he extended his arms outward. Slowly and rhythmically, his hands began to clench and unclench as the smoke continued to swirl from the braziers. The slight breeze in the air should have swept the glade clear, but strangely, the smoke seemed to have a life of its own, eddying and pooling around them. Feeling light headed from the smoke and mesmerized by the strange ceremony, Khalid couldn't have interrupted even if he had wanted to. A rumbling drone started low in Gorak's chest, building slowly as he turned his head to the sky. His unseeing gaze swept over Khalid, who was startled to see that his eyes had rolled back so only the whites were showing. The smoke overhead began to swirl into a vortex above them and the hair on the back of Khalid's neck rose as he felt power unlike any he had ever experienced gathering around them. Jets of flame erupted from the bronze braziers, leaping and dancing into the air. Khalid realized his heart was beating in time to Gorak's flexing hands and the throbbing litany. The sound of Gorak's voice became impossibly loud as the chant took on a life of its own, each word seemingly ripped from his throat. Head rolling on his shoulders, the muscles in his back rippled and bunched as Gorak surrendered himself to the magic. From the earth in front of him, a tiny shoot sprang up, grasping and searching as it slowly uncurled into the air. It was joined by another, and then a third as the ground in front of Gorak began to writhe. Buoyed by the surging plants, the willow branches appeared, jutting through the morass. In an instant, vines shot upwards, snaking around wood. The fires turned white hot and Khalid was forced to squint through the heat, while overhead the smoke boiled and churned in a whirling maelstrom. Through the haze of smoke and throbbing chant, a thought struck Khalid and shattered his eerie calm. Impossible as it seemed, the strange plant rising up in front of Gorak almost resembled a hand. In a second, there was no doubt. The construct arched to the ground as though pulling itself free from the earth, and surging in time with Gorak's voice, a head and shoulders appeared. A sheen of mud flowed upwards over the branches as more vines and grasses wrapped themselves around the emerging skeletal frame. Gorak arched backwards, muscles quivering as he struggled to raise his arms, mimicking the being in front of him. The words streaming from his mouth blurred into an incoherent roar and it seemed beyond belief that his lungs could contain that much breath. With a final surge, he jerked upright, bringing his hands together over his head. A sound like a thunderclap split the vale, sending Khalid sprawling backwards and snuffing out the flames. The shroud around Shayla's body collapsed as her body turned to dust. The creature in front of Gorak turned back its head as the smoke collected into a funnel cloud, rushing down. Silence, as oppressive as the roar of Gorak's chant, enveloped them. Stunned and confused, Khalid clambered to his feet as Gorak pitched over, toppling one of the glowing braziers. Blinking in the sunlight that once again flooded the clearing, Khalid shook his head, trying to make sense of what lay before him. Curled in a tight ball on the earth, streaked with mud and leaves was the pale form of a woman. Naked and shivering, long black hair covered her face. Khalid refused to allow himself to hope, to believe, until she turned her face upward. It was Shayla, there was no doubt. And yet it wasn't. Her features were finer, cheekbones more pronounced. Her green eyes were now jet black and their alluring slant was now exotic, almost alien. Where she had been slight before, now she seemed almost frail. Transfixed, Khalid shuffled forward hesitantly. “Ah, Gorak...” His whispered voice shattered the unearthly quiet in the glade. “What have you done?” Gorak's only response was a tortured wheeze, as he fought weakly to push himself upright. At the sound of his voice, Shayla's head jerked around towards him. Looking into her eyes, the faint hope that flared within him vanished, as she stared back without recognition. Then she began to scream. [CENTER]* * * * * * * * * *[/CENTER] Notes: * Woot! Let the min-maxing begin! Nothing like a level in a front loaded prestige class to ratchet up your power level. [/QUOTE]
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Story Hour
Al-Qarin: Into the Desert (3-1-24)
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