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"An Icy Grave" : A Tale of Two Brothers
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<blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 318493" data-attributes="member: 2323"><p><strong>Part 21: Lord of the Manor</strong></p><p></p><p>Malak needed no further prompting. Instantly awake, he rolled out of his blanket and grabbed his scaled hauberk. As he worked to don his armor, Karak outlined some tactics that might aid them in the coming battle.</p><p>"We know that tha Frost Wraith be harmed by fire and I think light," the warrior said. "We cou' jus' defend ourselves from it with a ring o' fire or torches an' wait 'til tha storm blows out. But I thinks we need ta dispatch this thing for once and all."</p><p>"I agree, chalak," the Battleguard said. "But we ought ta stay very near th' fire for th' moment. It'll offer us an advantage over this Wraith."</p><p>Karak nodded.</p><p>"We've another advantage," he said and indicated the clay jugs of cooking oil. "I'll fight it an' lure it ta tha fire. Then ye hit it with tha oil and mayhap a torch as well if'n I gets into any trouble."</p><p>Malak smiled at his brother.</p><p>"I'm glad we're clanbrothers, chalak," the cleric said. "I'd nae want ye as me enemy."</p><p></p><p>The sighing sound that heralded the Wraith's approach grew as it came, and by the time Karak could see the blizzard white thing moving down the stairs from above, the sound was a full-fledged roar. The warrior clutched his war axe defensively and set his feet at the base of the stairs. The Wraith drifted slowly down the stairs, its face set in an undead grimace of hatred, its eyes glowing with cold rage. The snow and ice billowing around it whipped the Wraith's hair and habit and ruffled the dwarf's beard as the thing descended eagerly.</p><p>Midway down the stairs, it stopped and looked skeptically at the fire burning in the foyer below and at Malak standing behind it.</p><p>Karak shifted his feet and sneered up at the thing.</p><p>It sneered back but did not advance toward the fire.</p><p>"Come on!" Karak growled at the Wraith. "Ye want me? Here I be!"</p><p>The light in the Wraith's black eye sockets flared and it started to turn back toward the upper floors.</p><p>"Face me, Alluzin!" the dwarf cried out, testing his theory that the Frost Wraith had been the Abbot in life.</p><p>The floating thing spun violently toward Karak, its face stretching and twisting into a mask of hatred so terrible that it turned the dwarf's gut to ice. It gripped the railing, and a spidery layer of frost began to spread from its hand, covering the images carved there of Orin and Fir Flinderkin. For a moment it hovered on the stairs and Karak could hear the banister creak as the Wraith's unliving grip tightened on it.</p><p>Then all at once, it came at him. Its mouth yawned wide in a soundless roar. Its glittering ice claws slashed savagely at the air.</p><p>Karak held his ground, lowering the head of his axe into the flames behind him. He kept his eyes on his opponent however, waiting for the Wraith to draw nearer to the fire. He was hit by a wave of bitter cold an instant before it was upon him, and at that moment he dodged. Its claws split the air to his left as he moved right, ducking beneath its skeletal arms.</p><p>He had hoped that the creature would simply blunder headlong into the fire, but it stopped short of that and turned on him abruptly. The dwarf swung his war axe in a vicious arc that struck the Wraith a bone-crunching blow to the head. Black mist began to leak from the thing's broken skull and it swooned backward into the fire.</p><p>It began at once to writhe and twist amidst the conflagration.</p><p>Malak heaved one of the pottery jugs of oil into the fire where it shattered amidst the coals and burning wood. The flames at once roared to twice their height, obscuring the Wraith's pain-wracked form. Both dwarves were obliged to back away from the fire. Malak singed his beard in the process. The fire was so bright and hot that they couldn't see the humanoid shadow moving in its midst until the charred remains of the Frost Wraith fell unmoving onto the floor beside it. Tendrils of black energy rose smokily up off its withered bones.</p><p>Before they could gloat in the Wraith's demise, however, a low rumbling began to move through them. The chandelier above their heads tinkled and they heard something glass shatter against the floor in another room.</p><p>They both knew what that meant.</p><p>"Earthquake!" Karak bellowed as the rumbling grew louder.</p><p>Malak looked at the staircase. It was undulating up and down like a serpent's body - mere moments away from breaking free of its moorings.</p><p>"We must get out!" the Battleguard said and gathered up a double armload of his gear.</p><p>For a moment, Karak stared at a crack forming in the rear wall. It grew upwards from the floor, becoming wider and deeper as it went. When it reached the ceiling it would send the whole thing down on them.</p><p>"Come on!" Malak roared as chunks of plaster rained down around him.</p><p>Karak grabbed his things from the fireside and made for the door.</p><p>Outside, they found that the storm had stopped and stars crowded the night sky. They had only a moment to take assessment of that before the cliffside above the monastery split with a resounding CRACK! The huge sculptures of the gods began to break apart and rain down onto the portico. Karak and Malak staggered halfway across the courtyard before they realized that they had moved beyond the scope of the earthquake. It seemed centered on and only to affect the monastery.</p><p>But that wasn't the most bizarre thing.</p><p>They stood there dumbfounded as a slow procession of shadowy figures dressed in dark robes filed out of the crumbling front door of the monastery, moved down the stairs and across the courtyard. They passed the two dwarves without acknowledging them and moved through the gates into the pass beyond. Only the last figure in the line was different; it was a dwarf carrying an ice axe. His beard was woven into two fat braids and the braids were threaded through his wide girdle. Like the others, he paid neither Karak nor Malak any mind.</p><p>When all the figures had passed the gate they turned and looked back. The twins followed their gaze toward the monastery. On the rapidly disintegrating portico stood a tall dark figure that returned the shades' stares. After a moment that seemed to last all night the figure bowed its head towards the gathering of shades, turned and walked back into the monastery an instant before the shattered torso of Merrika sealed the front door forever. With that solemn farewell the shades at the gate turned and faded into the night.</p><p>An instant later, the wind picked up, and for a moment the view of the monastery was entirely obscured by blowing snow. When they could see again, the monastery was gone, leaving only a cold pile of rubble on the mountainside.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Jon Potter, post: 318493, member: 2323"] [b]Part 21: Lord of the Manor[/b] Malak needed no further prompting. Instantly awake, he rolled out of his blanket and grabbed his scaled hauberk. As he worked to don his armor, Karak outlined some tactics that might aid them in the coming battle. "We know that tha Frost Wraith be harmed by fire and I think light," the warrior said. "We cou' jus' defend ourselves from it with a ring o' fire or torches an' wait 'til tha storm blows out. But I thinks we need ta dispatch this thing for once and all." "I agree, chalak," the Battleguard said. "But we ought ta stay very near th' fire for th' moment. It'll offer us an advantage over this Wraith." Karak nodded. "We've another advantage," he said and indicated the clay jugs of cooking oil. "I'll fight it an' lure it ta tha fire. Then ye hit it with tha oil and mayhap a torch as well if'n I gets into any trouble." Malak smiled at his brother. "I'm glad we're clanbrothers, chalak," the cleric said. "I'd nae want ye as me enemy." The sighing sound that heralded the Wraith's approach grew as it came, and by the time Karak could see the blizzard white thing moving down the stairs from above, the sound was a full-fledged roar. The warrior clutched his war axe defensively and set his feet at the base of the stairs. The Wraith drifted slowly down the stairs, its face set in an undead grimace of hatred, its eyes glowing with cold rage. The snow and ice billowing around it whipped the Wraith's hair and habit and ruffled the dwarf's beard as the thing descended eagerly. Midway down the stairs, it stopped and looked skeptically at the fire burning in the foyer below and at Malak standing behind it. Karak shifted his feet and sneered up at the thing. It sneered back but did not advance toward the fire. "Come on!" Karak growled at the Wraith. "Ye want me? Here I be!" The light in the Wraith's black eye sockets flared and it started to turn back toward the upper floors. "Face me, Alluzin!" the dwarf cried out, testing his theory that the Frost Wraith had been the Abbot in life. The floating thing spun violently toward Karak, its face stretching and twisting into a mask of hatred so terrible that it turned the dwarf's gut to ice. It gripped the railing, and a spidery layer of frost began to spread from its hand, covering the images carved there of Orin and Fir Flinderkin. For a moment it hovered on the stairs and Karak could hear the banister creak as the Wraith's unliving grip tightened on it. Then all at once, it came at him. Its mouth yawned wide in a soundless roar. Its glittering ice claws slashed savagely at the air. Karak held his ground, lowering the head of his axe into the flames behind him. He kept his eyes on his opponent however, waiting for the Wraith to draw nearer to the fire. He was hit by a wave of bitter cold an instant before it was upon him, and at that moment he dodged. Its claws split the air to his left as he moved right, ducking beneath its skeletal arms. He had hoped that the creature would simply blunder headlong into the fire, but it stopped short of that and turned on him abruptly. The dwarf swung his war axe in a vicious arc that struck the Wraith a bone-crunching blow to the head. Black mist began to leak from the thing's broken skull and it swooned backward into the fire. It began at once to writhe and twist amidst the conflagration. Malak heaved one of the pottery jugs of oil into the fire where it shattered amidst the coals and burning wood. The flames at once roared to twice their height, obscuring the Wraith's pain-wracked form. Both dwarves were obliged to back away from the fire. Malak singed his beard in the process. The fire was so bright and hot that they couldn't see the humanoid shadow moving in its midst until the charred remains of the Frost Wraith fell unmoving onto the floor beside it. Tendrils of black energy rose smokily up off its withered bones. Before they could gloat in the Wraith's demise, however, a low rumbling began to move through them. The chandelier above their heads tinkled and they heard something glass shatter against the floor in another room. They both knew what that meant. "Earthquake!" Karak bellowed as the rumbling grew louder. Malak looked at the staircase. It was undulating up and down like a serpent's body - mere moments away from breaking free of its moorings. "We must get out!" the Battleguard said and gathered up a double armload of his gear. For a moment, Karak stared at a crack forming in the rear wall. It grew upwards from the floor, becoming wider and deeper as it went. When it reached the ceiling it would send the whole thing down on them. "Come on!" Malak roared as chunks of plaster rained down around him. Karak grabbed his things from the fireside and made for the door. Outside, they found that the storm had stopped and stars crowded the night sky. They had only a moment to take assessment of that before the cliffside above the monastery split with a resounding CRACK! The huge sculptures of the gods began to break apart and rain down onto the portico. Karak and Malak staggered halfway across the courtyard before they realized that they had moved beyond the scope of the earthquake. It seemed centered on and only to affect the monastery. But that wasn't the most bizarre thing. They stood there dumbfounded as a slow procession of shadowy figures dressed in dark robes filed out of the crumbling front door of the monastery, moved down the stairs and across the courtyard. They passed the two dwarves without acknowledging them and moved through the gates into the pass beyond. Only the last figure in the line was different; it was a dwarf carrying an ice axe. His beard was woven into two fat braids and the braids were threaded through his wide girdle. Like the others, he paid neither Karak nor Malak any mind. When all the figures had passed the gate they turned and looked back. The twins followed their gaze toward the monastery. On the rapidly disintegrating portico stood a tall dark figure that returned the shades' stares. After a moment that seemed to last all night the figure bowed its head towards the gathering of shades, turned and walked back into the monastery an instant before the shattered torso of Merrika sealed the front door forever. With that solemn farewell the shades at the gate turned and faded into the night. An instant later, the wind picked up, and for a moment the view of the monastery was entirely obscured by blowing snow. When they could see again, the monastery was gone, leaving only a cold pile of rubble on the mountainside. [/QUOTE]
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