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Enchanted Trinkets Complete--a hardcover book containing over 500 magic items for your D&D games!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 873564" data-attributes="member: 227">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! </blockquote>

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