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Cydra: the Early Years
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 1496078" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>We don’t get to see them now, but rest assured that they’re involved.</p><p></p><p>Those orichalcum objects- the bowl. The knife. The candleholder. The bell. The book.</p><p></p><p>We’ll see them in the future, more than once; probably yet again.</p><p></p><p>For now, we need concern ourselves only with the golem. Within its crate, it lay as if in a deep sleep. Boxed up, hidden behind a wooden crate, the thing would stand almost seven feet if held erect; and clearly- terrifyingly, to the greedy merchant foolish enough to attempt its transport- it was articulated. You could (were you brave enough to touch it) move its arms and legs as if it were some clever toy made for a giant’s baby.</p><p></p><p>Its fierce ram head, its strongly muscled body- these served as warnings to any foolish enough to trifle with it. It seemed, somehow, to radiate menace</p><p></p><p>In the depths of night, as its fingers began to twitch, as the Orichalcum Devourer began to stir from its harmless sleep, it was a single impulse that drove it. Someone had used the bell, book and candle. Someone had made the sacrifice- a sacrifice we’ll get to see people make, in time; but not yet. </p><p></p><p>It caused this terrible thing to wake.</p><p></p><p>The wooden crate, nailed shut but iron nails as long as a troll’s finger, burst apart with only a moment’s work. The Orichalcum Devourer smashed its way free; and then it moved swiftly, never hesitating for even an instant. It climbed the stairs from the hold, ramming a fist through sailor standing above before he had a moment to act. </p><p></p><p>Then the Orichalcum Devourer moved to the forecastle and started slamming its terrible metal fists into it, smashing a hole in the wall almost instantly. </p><p></p><p>As sleepy sailors (and the passengers) woke, the Orichalcum Devourer smashed its feet through the deck, then smashed a hole in the ship’s hull from within the hold- below the waterline. </p><p></p><p>Ocean began to pour into the ship’s belly.</p><p></p><p>Screams as the Orichalcum seemed to move randomly, tearing walls to bits, allowing more and more of the sea outside to violate the ship; and soon it was listing badly. </p><p></p><p>Our heroes- can we call these guys that? Maybe not quite yet- Malford, Dex and Lochenvar convened on deck. Around them, all was chaos. The sky was black, pricked with the flames of the stars. There was no moon, but the sound of the sea was everywhere. </p><p></p><p>“We’re about to be shipwrecked, aren’t we?” Dexter groaned.</p><p></p><p>“Unless we can stop that thing,” Lochenvar grunted.</p><p></p><p>“We’re about to be shipwrecked,” Malford agreed.</p><p></p><p>The Orichalcum Devourer came up on deck.</p><p></p><p>“Crap,” said Malford.</p><p></p><p>There was a sudden jar of clashing colors as he let out a <em>color spray,</em> but neither it, nor Dexter’s psychic assault seemed to have any effect on the golem. Instead it rushed to the mainmast. In a moment it had grasped it in a terrible hug, and before the group’s terrified eyes it ripped the mast down. It fell into the deck with a thundering crash. Splinters of wood danced into the air.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly the ship gave a great shudder and an audible groan.</p><p></p><p>“Oh no!” cried Dexter. </p><p></p><p>Suddenly water was everywhere.</p><p></p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> What will happen to our heroes? (All right, we’ll start calling them that...)</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 1496078, member: 1210"] We don’t get to see them now, but rest assured that they’re involved. Those orichalcum objects- the bowl. The knife. The candleholder. The bell. The book. We’ll see them in the future, more than once; probably yet again. For now, we need concern ourselves only with the golem. Within its crate, it lay as if in a deep sleep. Boxed up, hidden behind a wooden crate, the thing would stand almost seven feet if held erect; and clearly- terrifyingly, to the greedy merchant foolish enough to attempt its transport- it was articulated. You could (were you brave enough to touch it) move its arms and legs as if it were some clever toy made for a giant’s baby. Its fierce ram head, its strongly muscled body- these served as warnings to any foolish enough to trifle with it. It seemed, somehow, to radiate menace In the depths of night, as its fingers began to twitch, as the Orichalcum Devourer began to stir from its harmless sleep, it was a single impulse that drove it. Someone had used the bell, book and candle. Someone had made the sacrifice- a sacrifice we’ll get to see people make, in time; but not yet. It caused this terrible thing to wake. The wooden crate, nailed shut but iron nails as long as a troll’s finger, burst apart with only a moment’s work. The Orichalcum Devourer smashed its way free; and then it moved swiftly, never hesitating for even an instant. It climbed the stairs from the hold, ramming a fist through sailor standing above before he had a moment to act. Then the Orichalcum Devourer moved to the forecastle and started slamming its terrible metal fists into it, smashing a hole in the wall almost instantly. As sleepy sailors (and the passengers) woke, the Orichalcum Devourer smashed its feet through the deck, then smashed a hole in the ship’s hull from within the hold- below the waterline. Ocean began to pour into the ship’s belly. Screams as the Orichalcum seemed to move randomly, tearing walls to bits, allowing more and more of the sea outside to violate the ship; and soon it was listing badly. Our heroes- can we call these guys that? Maybe not quite yet- Malford, Dex and Lochenvar convened on deck. Around them, all was chaos. The sky was black, pricked with the flames of the stars. There was no moon, but the sound of the sea was everywhere. “We’re about to be shipwrecked, aren’t we?” Dexter groaned. “Unless we can stop that thing,” Lochenvar grunted. “We’re about to be shipwrecked,” Malford agreed. The Orichalcum Devourer came up on deck. “Crap,” said Malford. There was a sudden jar of clashing colors as he let out a [i]color spray,[/i] but neither it, nor Dexter’s psychic assault seemed to have any effect on the golem. Instead it rushed to the mainmast. In a moment it had grasped it in a terrible hug, and before the group’s terrified eyes it ripped the mast down. It fell into the deck with a thundering crash. Splinters of wood danced into the air. Suddenly the ship gave a great shudder and an audible groan. “Oh no!” cried Dexter. Suddenly water was everywhere. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] What will happen to our heroes? (All right, we’ll start calling them that...) [/QUOTE]
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