Carnifex's Story Hour (Updated January 20th, "The Union")

[Carnifex]

Yes, the Acrozatarim story hour is back!




First a chicken, now a rabbit! Well, I'm going to be an alive rabbit, unlike the rest of--

* * * * * * *

Wyshira had barely taken her first step when the beholderkin attacked. An eyestalk quivered, there was a searing flash of white light, and Melisande fell to the ground, sending a miniature avalance of stones and scree sliding down the side of the ravine along with her smoking body.

Frozen by shock for one brief moment, Wyshira could only look on with her mouth hanging open. Then she recovered, and raced to the blue woman's side. She had already begun a prayer of healing by the time she reached her.

Burl was there ahead of her, and the water priestess groaned inwardly when she saw the necromancer throw dirt on Mel's wound. She nudged him aside as she finished chanting the last words of her spell ,and finally lay pale blue hands on the blistered and blackened skin of Melisande's side. Cool energy welled up and then flowed outward through her fingers into the sorceress. Wyshira sighed with relief to find that her friend was alive. She reached for her basket of healing herbs clean and linens.

Someone was standing over her - Sebastian, probably - and without looking up, she ordered him to give her his cloak. "I'll try to make her as comfortable as I can. Yes, she's alive. Above all, we must do everything possible to keep her calm." Then to Melisande: "It's all right. Just stay quiet now. Here, chew on this. It will help with the pain." She tried to keep her tone soothing as she handed the sorceress a few sweet-smelling leaves to put in her mouth. She couldn't completely hide the fearful concern in her eyes however.

* * *

"Noooo!" Kale shouted as he futily raised a hand for the beast to stop. Unchallenged, the searing beam tore over Kale's head, and as he turned he watched Melisande be burned to the ground.

Shock quickly met fury. The beholder floated there, terribly, and for whatever reason the only thing Kale could think in his fear and anger was to attack the thing. Futility it seemed, couldn't outweigh the fact that the beast simply had to be destroyed. Anger seethed just under the surface as the tenuous, wobbly cardhouse of Kale's dealings threatened to be toppled by a sweep of his own hand. His fingers nearly quivered with withheld fury and fear.

Breathe. He could hear Wyshira rush to help. Breathe. The familiar smell of cooked flesh tinged Kale's nostrils. Breathe. The beholder remained where he was, pronouncing just as magnanimous as before.

Forgetting what was behind, the mercenary stepped out to a sand patch near the boulderfield. He hated every minute of it. For whatever reason, his thoughts turned to Melisande's peculiar toad, always wallowing in that pocket of hers. For all the wrongness of the moment, he had no idea why he stuck on the woman's odd little familiar. No time for idle thoughts, he refocussed his mind on the task at hand.

"Cooked glass panels, laid in an arc-" he spelled out to the beholder, as though describing an island retreat. "Not the furnishings or shelters of humans. No gaudy posturing like the works of those crazy Iron Hawks. No crutches like the weaker creatures." The weaker creatures, whose nearby tower the beholder likely knew. Kale didn't mention the creation would be simply a giant version of a desert raider's cheap sun oven. Of course, they used obsidian chunks, instead of dark glass... but such details weren't exactly relevant to his objectives.

"You don't sit in it, but it will be your throne. It will capture the sun's heat while you meditate. And all you need is sand," Kale waved to his feet, "and heat," indicating the large eye that he wanted more than anything to pluck out on a pikestaff.

"So shall this work begin?" Kale's proposal was almost at an end, though there was still the issue of how in the world any of them were going to get out alive. "Forget about these distractions," he said as a near afterthought. "We humans, as you've seen, are an excitable lot. Send these folks on their way, and this can get done all the sooner. You'll be back to your meditations before you know it."

* * * * * * *

Mel came to in a blaze of searing pain. Swimming images of Burl and Wyshira hung over her. The necromancer and the priestess. Not a good sign. Where was she? What happened? She squeezed her eyes shut again, as if blocking out the light of the sun would soothe the burning.

"Ouch," she gasped, and then memory returned most unpleasantly.

Struggling briefly to try to bring herself onto hands and knees and crawl away, Mel realized that lying face up on sharp rocks was preferable to moving right at the moment, and settled back down moaning with agony.

Wyshira was saying something but through the roaring of pain in her mind Mel could make no sense of it, except that she wanted Mel to eat something, which she did even though she didn't think chewing on anything could possibly dull the slicing knives that seemed to be working on her side as if in the hands of a skilled Huronese chef.

And then through it all a yet more frightening thought occurred--

Pierre! Answer me, please!

 

[Carnifex]

Sebastion stood, rooted to the spot, as the healers skidded past him to do their work. His vision still had spots dancing across it where the beam had narrowly missed him, but he saw none of it.

What passed across his vision was the strangely reversed colours of flesh being burned away under the searing white light.

Too damned slow! he snarled at himself, spinning on the spot. His hands were resting on the pistols again as he turned to face the creature, eyeing it as Kale desperately tried to talk.

Anger is the enemy. Aner will get you killed. Anger is to be feared. He kept repeating the lesson as he stepped across between the rocky Eye-tyrant and its last target.

Kale's going to fail... he realised, somewhere deep down inside. And when he does, the Nine Hells are going to come through this ravine like a stampede.

Sebastion intended to be ready.

As Burl began to apply his healing salve to Melisande, Wyshira stopped him, telling him to save it for another time. As he watched the priestess as she began to help Mel, Burl had a passing thought,

We are most likely going to die here and now. Reaching over to his pack, Burl loosened the cover over Spike’s pouch whispering “Spike, slowly get away from us. If we survive, I’ll come for you.” Gently Burl gave his familiar a soft shove out of his pouch.

Slowly Burl stood, picking up his pouch. Turning back toward the creature, Burl slowly moved away from Mel and Wyshira, his hand deftly but calmly moving back into the pouch grasping the wand of lightning.

At least, I will be able to give it one good shot before it takes me out, he thought.

 

[Carnifex]

Eleven sandstone eyebrows furrowed at Kale's words, the beholder floating menacingly in the air. That alone was somewhat unnerving, that something so alike a ton of rock could just sit there in blatant defiance of gravity, born aloft by unknown manner, but the knowledge of the sheer power that beholders were reputed to have was another reason to be nervous. And now it had demonstrated that legendary power by striking down Melisande with a single glance.

* * *

Under Wyshira's ministrations that little way off, Melisande came back to conciousness; moments after the beginnings of her frantic panic she felt Pierre's terrified conciousness connect back with hers. The way she had fallen as she ran, the poor toad was trapped underneath her, and mightily vexed by it from the tones of his thoughts. Nearby Spike scurried into one of the myriad of little caves and erosions into the ravine walls at Burl's insistence, though the diminuitive hedgehog clearly wasn't very happy about it.

Those clustered around Melisande couldn't help but notice that several of the eye tyrant's eyestalks were watching them cautiously.

* * *

The great mouth of the abberation opened again to reveal the blunt rock-teeth, teeth that could shatter stone into pulverised dust.

"Your offer intrigues me... but how can you provide what you offer? Tell me now the truth, whether you can provide or not and how, or I burn another of your companions. And don't think I'm going to let any of you go running of anywhere... that serves me no purpose other than... perhaps you want to trick me? To ambush me or run to others?" It snarled angrily, causing the entire ravine to rumble with the reverberations. "You tell me now. I may still have a use for you disgusting little horrors even if you're lying... but I don't like being lied to..."

Kale noticed, out of the corner of his eye, the difference between Wolf and Sebastion. From the tension in Sebastion's frame, the readiness, the man must have been fighting the urge to either run or fight. Wolf lacked that readiness, but not from practice with battle, Kale could tell. The veteran apparently seemed to think, from his body language, that fighting or running away were not options worth even thinking about, and was leaving it in Kale's hands to get them out of the mess. Now there was a pleasantly reassuring thought...

* * *

"I seem to recall it was you egging me on," Mel retorted crossly to the waves of amphibious admonition issuing from her crumpled pocket, and then whimpered in the throes of her burns. Maybe running away wasn't the best idea after all. Even Pierre's bruised right head had to admit it.

Mel opened one eye as the huge voice of the Beholder rumbled up the ravine. She focused on Kale's back for a second and then shut her eye again to block out the whole scene.

I can think of a worse idea.

"What's he trying to do?" she whispered to Wyshira. "Oh, never mind. Can you hand me my canteen? And do you have anything else for the pain?" In her desperation she had already swallowed the herbs the priestess had given her. The scalding, itching, stinging sensation all along one side would soon become intolerable and she feared she might cry.

“Don’t worry about it Wyshira. I’ll get it for her.” Reaching over Burl picked up the canteen, handing it to her. He then got back up, moving away slowly from the two. While not trying to catch the eye of the beholder, Burl wanted to at least move a bit away from the two.

Stopping, Burl could only wait to see the final outcome of Kale’s ploy, whatever it was.

With Burl's help, Wyshira continued to tend Melisande. Another prayer, another spell, and more soothing relief flooded into the burned sorceress through the priestess' cool hands.

"Keep drinking the water," she encouraged her patient, while using water from her own skins to clean the wound. She tried hard to focus only on Melisande and her injury, but bits and pieces of the conversation between Kale and the beholderkin kept intruding on her concentration.

Forget about these distractions...Send these folks on their way.....

Kale was bargaining for their freedom, for their lives. Wyshira hoped that he knew what he was doing.

Tell me now the truth...or I burn another of your companions...

Wyshira had seen what the creature could do with just one of its eyes: it had burned Melisande to a blue-black crisp without even trying. What if Kale made it really angry? What could the beast do with all ten-plus eyes firing at once?!

And then the beholdkin said something else: I may still have a use for you disgusting little horrors even if you're lying...

The monster wanted them for something? Not for food, obviously - it ate rocks. But what then? Wyshira tried to imagine all the things that a big, rock-orb creature living in this barren ravine could want the party for. It must want us to DO something for it, she concluded. But what?

Meanwhile, she prayed fervantly for Ishrak to guide Kale in his dealings with the beholderkin.

 

[Maldur]

Great stuff, but I switched to reading your game when it is played so I wont be bumping this thread that often

 

[Carnifex]

While making an oversized sun oven for the beast was a tenuous proposition at best, it was the only play the crew had, the only bid for time to keep them all from ending up like Melisande.

That was, at least, until a new development arrived. The beast was playing the role of exterminator, right up until he bacame curious, ever ready to fill that need for ego or posession. Kale relaxed inwardly as the beast no longer viewed the mercenaries as mere vermin.

As the beholder grumbled on, it became clear his eleven yes now viewed them as... marginally useful vermin? Kale thought hard on what the beholder might be thinking, as the rules of the encounter quickly changed. He would not be tricked into bids for time, distraction, or ambush. Most of the few remaining doors to freedom were sequentially closed by the irritated monster.

Oh, how Kale yearned for Sebastion to be freed to seek help from the Iron Hawk Tower. He had never made firebrick or cooked glass before, and despite their ease of make with a big enough heat source, the whole ruse was hardly worth betting lives.

"Your offer intrigues me... but how can you provide what you offer?" it mouthed with that terrible maw full of blunt rock-grinding teeth. The time for fast talk was behind them. Kale dared his eyes to meet the gaze, outnumbered. There was no place to be arrogant, but his body protested as he made his desperate bid to seem worth more than the rocks this thing chewed day and night.

What was it his father had said about bargaining? And to think that with all the martial trianing, formal and experience that Kale had gone through, all boiling down now to the merchant's lessons he should have learned so long ago. Amegrion was a small house in Iril, and Kale was its black sheep. Somehow, the house managed to survive its enemies and avoid being absorbed by those more powerful... the young mercenary had a few seconds now to learn the lesson. How could they avoid destruction, while still wriggling free from the beast's power? Kale's mind raced, but there was so very precious little room to maneuver.

Wolf, at the least, seemed confident, or at least resigned to his efforts. Of course, wolves, and their patron Fenris, were never afraid of the impossible cause. Wolf knew very well that he could be stuck down where he stood, yet he waited, expectant, patient.

"I am no glassmaker." Kale stated matter of factly. There was no sense of confession in his tone. "My interests are elsewhere. But let's just say that I've been uniquely... motivated since we stumbled upon your lair. Believe me when I say I have no need or desire to lie to you," Which incredibly, was the truth. Exaggeration and vagueness where necessary, but he had never at any point lied, and remained just as dedicated to finding a way to free his companions. Not that it mattered, though: the gig was up.

"Sun ovens are made with dark rock or glass." Kale avoided a lecturing tone as he explained his idea dismissively. The monster was clearly not going for it, yet the mercenary was still risking precious capitol to insure that the thing could not call them liars. Somehow, the murderous beast would think less of them if they were caught untruthful. It was no matter, of course. The monster already knew what he had planned for the crew, and the best Kale could do was meet it on the best terms. He steeled himself and calmed his hands for what was next. They could no longer be lowly worms in the blessed sun-orb's dirt: they had to be of some measure of quality and value. Kale knew the crew posessed these things by the crate, though convincing the beholder would be a difficult prospect indeed. What kind of errand might he have for a band of two-legs? How would he insure cooperation? How would they find to break the rules? Wheels within wheels, the bargain went on. And as they stood in the sun-scorched ravine, the last bits of currency the crew had were evaporating quickly away.

"While making clear glass is quite an art, I could wager decent cooked-glass panels could be made right here from sand and heat." Impurities bubbled the glass, and when seared too long without a swipe of the dross, caused the stuff to turn dark and opaque. Useless for windows, but plenty able to warm a huge rock-beast.

Of course, the beholder wouldn't care for these details. He already knew what he wanted from the beings trapped before him. Kale would feed him enough to prove his honesty (without saying he honestly wanted the thing's body impaled on the Iron Hawk tower, of course), briefly answer his questions, and wait for the beast to choose. The beholder was too greedy by now, Kale determined. Whether or not he made the oven, some other errand was to be done.

So instead of risking lives on his glasscooking abilities, they would just have to go straight for the prize behind the veil. "Where we do not have the great power that you posess, we learn to improvise." Drawing back from the particular 'sun throne' idea to the ridiculous but necessary notion that spawned it, Kale waited for the beast to react. Thoroughly filling in any information he may wish, it was a waiting game to have the other side decide.

Gambling for their lives, the crew had very little to bring to the table. A notion of integrity, and the idea of a choice between favors were the only things that could speak of any real value. In the end, they were 'adventurers'- those odd short-lived folk of the stories who strike out and seek the needful things. Capable errand-runners, while hardly the title 'adventurers' would recieve in the stories, was a much more descriptive term. They were just what this thing was looking for. Kale intended to stretch this truth for all it was worth.

Now, how in the world do we deal in a way that gets us out of here, on one piece? For the beholder had no regard for the safe return of his vassals, only that his errand be completed. We're assets, not cannon fodder, Kale repeated to himself as he regarded the beholder, hoping perhaps by will that the thing would agree.

As Kale continued with his weaseling speeches, Sebastion lost track of exactly what it was that was being suggested. He knew a little of glass-making - he'd watched the glass-blower in town a few times - but not enough to contribute directly to the conversation, and standing ready to shoot was doing no-one any good.

So what to do. Combat is not our first option, so what is... escape?

With that realisation in mind, he slipped hands free of his belt, and turned to where the healers were at work.

"I think Kale is coming to the end of his little charade... we'd best be ready to move." he muttered, quietly, as he slipped his arms under Melisande and lifted her gently from the floor in preparation.

The beholderkin listened to the last parts of Kale's explanation, inexplicably occasionally giving odd huffs and snorts that sounded more like the rumble of a far-off earthquake than anything else, looking down on the comparatively diminuitive human before it with baleful eyes. It paused for a little whileafter he finished, then eventually spoke once more.

"Glass... cooked from sand into reflectors... an interesting idea. Perhaps one I will consider in my future meditations. I think it'll take too long for you vermin though, and you aren't the right slave-species to be very skilled at it. An interesting idea but not for you to do. No, something more in your meagre capabilities, perhaps."

It bobbed and several eyes changed direction to point at a small cave-mouth a little further down the ravine.

"There were falls of water a few weeks back, and they poured down to wash through all these caves. At the bottom of the ravine I found some.. pieces of rock, heavy with mineral deposits, broken chunks of stalagmite washed down. They tasted good and were rich with metals."

"They came from that cave, washed out. I can smell the mineral tang coming up on the breeze, mixed with the other smells from under the earth. Unfortunately the entrance is too small for me to get into, and I cannot reach them down there. If you small things go in there and get me some more of those rocks as a present... then I will leave you to take your noisome passage down the ravine and leave - leave fast, too. Or the alternative is I'll incinerate you all."

Finally, Burl had been able to make some sense out of Kale’s ploy. He had been enticing the beholder with tales of them making a solar oven for the creature.

Of course thought Burl as he looked around at the abundance of sand in the ravine. But, the creature is right, it was a bit beyond our capabilities. Although, if we could find materials to build some moulds, we could utilize the creatures own abilities with fire. All it would take is some large stones which could have a block carved out, filled with the sand and the beholder could heat it to crystalline form. After it cooled the blocks could be stacked into a rough oven.

Burl had let his mind wander a bit, but was pulled back to reality at the suggestion that their live would be saved if only they could provide it with some specialty rocks from the small cave. Looking toward the cave entrance “That sounds reasonable. Our lives for a few rocks.” sounded Burl, but secretly he could see them becoming permanent miners for the beholder as he developed a taste for the mineral rich rocks.

 

[Carnifex]

It really was amazing, the power Wyshira channelled. It washed over Melisande's burns like fresh, cool water, rinsing away all but a memory of the unbearable pain; soon Mel found she could breathe properly and was not, after all, about to weep. She stayed put though, still too stunned and afraid to move. I'll pass out if I try to stand, she rationalized, although the real reason might have been that malevolent, dread-inspiring voice and the aberration from which it issued, the sight of which may very well make her pass out from fear.

Kale seemed to be holding up his side of the conversation better than she expected, though. It only occurred to her around then that he was trying to buy time, not really bargain with the monstrosity, and she was appreciatively re-evaluating his practical sense (not that Melisande possessed much of a yardstick by which to judge), when a cool shadow passed over and she found her surprised self bundled up suddenly in a pair of strong but careful arms. Sebastion's voice reached her through the roar of waves (among them embarrassment, gratitude, and a multitude of other ill-defined emotions) breaking against the blue rocks of her heart.

Now I really am going to pass out, she thought. I was already in shock. What's he planning to do, outrun another blast from the Beholder with me over his shoulder? Or, she reflected cynically, throw me down as offering to the beast? Stone-eater though it is, it may not turn up its--nose?--at some fresh chicken-brains. But this was unfair and she knew it. The situation was hopeless either way and this was no time to disparage a kind gesture. Really very kind, come to think of it.

Feeling furtive, she began to let herself enjoy the moment for what it was worth. Hadn't she always wished to be held in a man's arms but once before she died? And while she might have chosen different circumstances (and postponed death), would she have chosen different arms? Lord Ecurius' good looks passed through her mind with a brief and quite bland flash, and disappeared.

Nevertheless--

The guilt of her secret enjoyment pierced through whatever sweet clouds blue Melisande might have been floating upon and she began abruptly to struggle.

"I'm all right--I'm fine, thank you--You're very kind but I'm quite healed now--"

* * *

Sebastion felt, suddenly, somehow, right. This was what it was about, this was the point. It wasn't in the actual slicing and dicing, nor the luck that seemed to be following his throwing axe of late...

It was draping the damsel in distress across your arms and carrying her from danger into safety. This was what he wanted from life, this was making a difference, judging the angle so he could turn his body into the path of any danger that came her way.

Keeping an eye on the floating orb, therefore, and picking his way gently across the rocky surface towards the horses, he was somewhat surprised when she started to struggle against his grip. This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

"Hold still you bloody stupid woman!" he hissed in her ear. "I'm trying to save your life here!"

And he was. He had... A plan. It wasn't much, as deceptions went, but it was a plan, and he'd feel better if she were away and out of danger. Twisting slightly, he eased her feet to the floor and took a few steps away

"Uh, hey!" he called, loudly, trying to attract the things attention. "She'll be weak after... after that. She'll probably just slow us down in the caves. Why don't you let her on her way while we go in?"

The beholder's mouth broke in to what must only have been an unpleasant smile. "Why, I have a better idea. She can... stay up here with me while you go down under the earth. That way, you will have a... motivation to return with all haste from getting me my minerals..."

Melisande opened her mouth but she had no idea what she was going to say. Pleading her own uselessness ("They won't come back for me," came to mind) only meant trying to push off hostage duty on someone else, which of course she would never dream of; and she could think of nothing at all to respond to Sebastion Cornell. His behavior entirely eluded her powers of intuition. Bloody stupid woman, I'm trying to save your life? Speaking of stupid! Was this some kind of ludicrous heroism he was building into that Warlord persona, risking himself for the least of his companions? She didn't much like the role that put her in.

She stared at him for long enough that he could fill in whatever blanks were left by her own speechlessness, and then heaved a long sigh of resignation.

"Well," she said at last with as much dignity as she could scrape back up, "go on, go find some rocks. I'll just wait here." And with that she turned to face the bloated eyes of her fate.

 

[Carnifex]

Just as a side note, I have decided to do a definiet update every Tuesday barring unforeseen circumstances, plus additional updates on other days as and when I feel like it. I've started to put the Tuesday update on the games events calender here:

http://www.suryvial.com/

It's really neat, because by signing on you get notified by email of upcoming game events - like Mortality radio chats, games events, and other things (including reminders that this SH is updated every Tuesday! - via email, and you can set it so that you get emailed at a regular period of your choosing (weekly, monthly, etc).

Go on, check it out!

 

[Carnifex]

Relief washed over Kale like the sheen of sweat that had waked on his brow. Finally, he could see a path to success against their incredible overmatched foe. The beastly orb would not get what it deserved, but when the crew was miles away, their clean escape would insure that they would get no more than they deserve from the cruel thing.

"A load of these special rocks would be fitting tribute," Kale concluded, knowing that if the large rocks had found a second exit out of the caves, so could they. Escape was finally at hand. Of course, they would have to leave the horses behind, but that was a small price to play.

Yet, Kale wondered how Sebastion would feel, leaving the colt behind. It may be tough, but man was level headed. Anyone could be level-headed enough to reason a way far distant from a beholder...

"She'll be weak after... after that. She'll probably just slow us down in the caves. Why don't you let her on her way while we go in?" But apparently, fighting farm boy was not level-headed enough for them to all make a clean getaway.

Kale's jaw clenched as he awaited the response from the beholder. Options and plans splintered as the mercenary anticipated his response.

"Why, I have a better idea. She can... stay up here with me while you go down under the earth." Kale couldn't contain a grimmace, which while the beholder's attention was on Sebastion, the mercenary had no doubt a few eyestalks could still see.

The best he could hope was to play the look off as mere fear for the blue woman to remain in the beholder's frightening presence. Damn it! Damn it! Yet, there was nothing to be done.

"Of course. We will bring what we can find and carry. We'll simply picket our horses downwind and out of your way," Did beholders eat flesh? Kale didn't even want to risk their transportation to the monster's fickle feelings. Much less risk Melisande, who proved at times to be just as jumpy as a city horse.

"Melisande could stay out of the sun, in the cave over there," he casually inclined his head to a grotto to his left, to a cave that looked comfotable and hopefully deep. If worse came to worst, maybe they could still scam an Iron Hawk rescue of the woman trapped in the cave. Likely not. Mentally, he began to consider the proper detachment he should have had for the woman, from the start. She could likely die, and the best thing for Kale to do would be to walk away.

Walk away. Run away. Whatever it took. Anger welled in his gut again. Whatever it took.

Grabbing some rocks, just like the thing said. That might free the woman. Don't bet on it. They had stumbled into range of this thing once, it would be beyond foolish to do it twice.

Melisande flowed down from Sebastion's arms, fussing with her clothes and minding her composure. Still guarding her wounded side, realities had yet to set in. "Well, go on, go find some rocks. I'll just wait here."

All Kale could do is incline an eyebrow. He narrowly resisted gaping at what the sometimes-demure woman had just said. Try as she might, her voice did not carry well any kind of boldness... only a fool could be bold before that beast. For some reason, Kale began to feel quite sick.

"A load of the rocks you described, all we can find and carry. We'll deliver them to the surface. We'll then take our lives and our mounts and make quick passage out of your ravine." Kale concluded, looking for assent from the thing.

Movement signalled preparations to move. Feet began to shuffle again in the grave-dead ravine. Melisande would need water, the horses shade- gear and morale was to be tended before they were off. There was also the issue of illumination once they were underground, but first, something the beholder had said peaked Kale's attention.

Possibly of some value, he dared a question. "It's curious what we might find down there, with the odd smells you mentioned. I wonder, what could make the other strange smells you had talked about." He could answer if he chose, but the talk of the earth's sickness made the mercenary wary. Anything they could learn before heading underground...

"I'll stay with Melisande."

Wyshira's voice sounded small in her own ears. She hardly believed that she had spoken up at all. A chance to escape the dreadful presence of this rock monster (if only for a short while) and she was going to pass it up? Why?

"I wouldn't be able to carry much anyway. You won't need me in the caves........"

Her words trailed off. She avoided looking at the beholder, or anyone in the party, except for Mel. The blue woman was surprisingly stoic in the face of this horror. Even after having had half of her flesh burned off by its mere glance.

She seemed calm and capable, for the moment. But Wyshira remembered her panicked attempt at flight up the sides of the rocky ravine. And she just couldn't imagine leaving anyone behind ALONE with the creature.

A simple “No” escaped from Burl's mouth. “You can’t put yourself at risk. Please come help us.” pleaded the wizard. Knowing that Wyshira would do what she felt best, Burl now resigned himself to the fact that they probably were soon to leave the ranks of adventurers, becoming instead common mine slaves. He knew that he would never leave the priestess behind without a fight.

The aasimar really was going to be brave until Wyshira made her impossibly generous offer. True sympathy and loyalty were new to Melisande. She kept her back turned to the others but it was pretty clear from the sniffling and shoulder-racking sobs that she had lost it.

If only she could gain control of her voice, she would tell them not to let Wyshira stay! They might need the priestess more than anyone else, no matter what she said. No one had any need for a chicken-brained blue sorceress, but Wyshira's healing surely would be vital to them if not now in the caves, then at least some time--some time when their adventure had led them on and they had forgotten the Beholder and the unfortunate hostage they'd had to leave behind.

Kale's words echoed hollowly: "A load of the rocks you described, all we can find and carry. We'll deliver them to the surface. We'll then take our lives and our mounts and make quick passage out of your ravine." That sounded very nice, but not even Mel had so many illusions. She did not mistrust her companions--most of them might even rally enough to suggest they go back for her, she hoped--but it would be suicide, and for what? To rescue the weakest link? There were enough level heads in the group not to let that happen. She was going to have to get herself out of this all alone, or not at all.

 

[Elemental]

Since you showed an interest in my SH, figured it was the decent thing to do to look yours up.

Wow. How did I miss this before? I'm up to the fight with the werewolves, and I love the writing quality. I'll offer more detailed comments when I'm up to date.

 

[Maldur]

Elemental, as Im following the game as well as the sh, I can only say. Carnifex is a great DM, and he is very lucky with his players

They all seem to have the nack of playing an online game, as well as pretty good writing skills.

Im not gonna spoil anything, but in a few chapters, there will be some really awesome roleplaying