arwink
Clockwork Golem
I'm swamped with marking at the moment, but after reading a hundred assignments over two days I figured it was time to write something for myself.
Starting on Monday next week, I should be back to a regular posting schedule for all three storyhours that should see me getting somewhere close to up-to-date
Wednesday, September 20th, continued
The first warning that something has gone wrong is the circle of mist, slowly closing on the campsite. It rises out of the still night air and drifts in, a large circle slowly closing in towards the fire.
"Damn," Geoffrey swears, and the others nod in agreement. Plates of stew are hurriedly set aside and weapons are scrambled for. Blarths sword clears its sheath with a whisper of noise, the crystalline rabbit's foot attached to its pommel dancing on its length of chain.
"Yip," Geoffrey says. "Go see what's out there."
The small kobold scampers to obey. Everyone watches him go, the mist closing over him so quickly it's as if he's stepped through a solid wall. Ears are strained as everyone listens for noise, and they can hear the silent pitter-patter of feet in the distance.
Yip pushes his way through the mist, struggling to see what's before him. Rocks loom out of the dankness, dark shapes that can only be identified when Yip is close enough to reach out and touch the stone surface. He curses silently, then reproaches himself for the bad habit he's picked up from Geoffrey. Yipmonks don't swear, they obey. Even when they are sure that obedience could lead to death.
He curses again, and this time no reproach looms in his subconscious.
Silence reigns across the hills. Neither Yip nor the Copperheads waiting with tense nerves around the campfire can hear a thing.
Yip is the first to find their attackers. The jester-goblin appears out of no-where, seated on a rock just to the kobold monk's right. It stares at Yip, it's pale white eyes squinting from behind its jesters sceptre.
"Greetings scaly-kind," the goblin rasps, it's hat jingling softly now despite the silence with which he had approached. "We need not fight."
Yip stares at the creature, wondering why it makes such an offer. Then he notices the jesters rod waving back and forth, the eyes on the frost-like head that tip it glowing softly. The faintest weave of magic makes its way into Yip's brain, tugging at his instincts in an attempt to make him call the goblin friend.
"We need not fight..."the goblin repeats, and Yip gives the creature a wide grin."
"Yip want to fight," he says. With a loud Yip of anger, he leaps forward with a strike to the goblin's elongated nose. It's a glancing blow, one that draws a stream of mist-like blood from the goblin's nostrils, but that's all the monk gets before a well-dressed rat emerges from the mist and tackles him.
Around the campfire, the other copperheads hear the sudden sound of Yip's attack.
"Blarth not thing that good sign," Blarth says needlessly. A hail of arrows emerges from the mist before anyone can agree...
Starting on Monday next week, I should be back to a regular posting schedule for all three storyhours that should see me getting somewhere close to up-to-date
Wednesday, September 20th, continued
The first warning that something has gone wrong is the circle of mist, slowly closing on the campsite. It rises out of the still night air and drifts in, a large circle slowly closing in towards the fire.
"Damn," Geoffrey swears, and the others nod in agreement. Plates of stew are hurriedly set aside and weapons are scrambled for. Blarths sword clears its sheath with a whisper of noise, the crystalline rabbit's foot attached to its pommel dancing on its length of chain.
"Yip," Geoffrey says. "Go see what's out there."
The small kobold scampers to obey. Everyone watches him go, the mist closing over him so quickly it's as if he's stepped through a solid wall. Ears are strained as everyone listens for noise, and they can hear the silent pitter-patter of feet in the distance.
Yip pushes his way through the mist, struggling to see what's before him. Rocks loom out of the dankness, dark shapes that can only be identified when Yip is close enough to reach out and touch the stone surface. He curses silently, then reproaches himself for the bad habit he's picked up from Geoffrey. Yipmonks don't swear, they obey. Even when they are sure that obedience could lead to death.
He curses again, and this time no reproach looms in his subconscious.
Silence reigns across the hills. Neither Yip nor the Copperheads waiting with tense nerves around the campfire can hear a thing.
Yip is the first to find their attackers. The jester-goblin appears out of no-where, seated on a rock just to the kobold monk's right. It stares at Yip, it's pale white eyes squinting from behind its jesters sceptre.
"Greetings scaly-kind," the goblin rasps, it's hat jingling softly now despite the silence with which he had approached. "We need not fight."
Yip stares at the creature, wondering why it makes such an offer. Then he notices the jesters rod waving back and forth, the eyes on the frost-like head that tip it glowing softly. The faintest weave of magic makes its way into Yip's brain, tugging at his instincts in an attempt to make him call the goblin friend.
"We need not fight..."the goblin repeats, and Yip gives the creature a wide grin."
"Yip want to fight," he says. With a loud Yip of anger, he leaps forward with a strike to the goblin's elongated nose. It's a glancing blow, one that draws a stream of mist-like blood from the goblin's nostrils, but that's all the monk gets before a well-dressed rat emerges from the mist and tackles him.
Around the campfire, the other copperheads hear the sudden sound of Yip's attack.
"Blarth not thing that good sign," Blarth says needlessly. A hail of arrows emerges from the mist before anyone can agree...
ROFL!
