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(Cydra) The Year 271 Campaign (Low Magic experiment)
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 2867165" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Sir Fwaigo is on watch when they are taken. </p><p></p><p>He walks back and forth, yawning occasionally, but alert. There is no visible reason for him to fall asleep; no visible reason at all. </p><p></p><p>Especially given that the fire is just embers, banked low; and especially given that it is an overcast, moonless night. Sir Fwaigo sees nothing at all. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The group awakens to find themselves bound tightly. Me- Sir Percival- immediately begins to struggle, but it is, for the moment at least, hopeless.</p><p></p><p>Laughter dances across the early morning, and our heroes look upon a terrible sight. Leading what is surely the black magic cult, Sir Harth stands before them triumphant. “Fools!” he sneers. “I’ve beat you at last, and now you shall only live long enough to see my triumph!”</p><p></p><p>Otis groans around a gag. “This is terrible,” moans Kyle. </p><p></p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” cries Sir Colder. “We’ve collapsed the stairways! You’ll never dig them out in time for your ritual!”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, but you’re wrong,” Sir Harth chuckles. “We will get through your little barrier with ease.” Gloating, Sir Harth turns and calls, “Come, my friend! Show yourself.”</p><p></p><p>Something moves into view from the ruin itself. It is a horrific ball of angry-looking eyes, with a great sharp-toothed maw snarling and spitting. A huge central eye stares balefully out at them as the creature approaches, and atop its orb writhe nearly a dozen eye stalks! </p><p></p><p>“Oh, no, my friends,” Harth smiles wickedly. “We will not have any trouble at all.”</p><p></p><p>With that, one of the eyes fires a cold grey ray that blasts a hole in the ground. Where soil and grass once were, now there is only a crater and a puff of dust. It happens without a sound. </p><p></p><p>“We won’t even have to dig...”</p><p></p><p>Harth’s gloating is interrupted by Dahlia, who has seen enough. She <em>wild shapes</em> free of the bonds holding her, turning into a bird. She catches Sir Harth, his cultists and the strange eye-monster off guard and begins speeding away as swiftly as her wings will carry her! A few rays of light from the eyes of the monster shoot past her, but she manages to avoid or resist them, and soon she is out of range!</p><p></p><p><em>But what do I do now?</em> she wonders. <em>I can’t take out Sir Harth and his cult and that monster by myself. I need help. Maybe in Kamenda City...? Sir Martin should be there- either he, or Baron Rusk, may be able to help me.</em> She grits her teeth. <em>I have to move quickly. We may need some time to muster forces to attack that thing.</em> Grimly, she realizes that the beams that shot at her were different colors, and most of them didn’t seem to disintegrate matter. <em>That means it has unknown but highly dangerous and varied abilities,</em> she groans to herself. <em>This is trouble. Big trouble. </em> </p><p></p><p>She wings her way north.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The others struggle, apparently unsuccessfully, to free themselves. The strange eye creature begins clearing one of the stairwells of rubble, simply annihilating it with no mess and no trouble. <em>All that work for nothing,</em> thinks Sir Fwaigo regretfully. It takes several hours, but once the passage is clear enough, the cultists carry our heroes downstairs, one at a time, and lay them against the goblins. One by one they grow rigid, drawn into the goblins’ magical stasis. Satisfied, the cultists leave after a moment more. </p><p></p><p>Then, at last, Sir Cedric rolls off of the goblin. In the darkness, the cultists could not see the sweat on his brow. It took all his concentration to keep from being put into stasis, but somehow he had managed. </p><p></p><p>Carefully, he rolls himself until he is in a position to saw at his bonds with the sharp edges of the goblins’ boots’ accoutrements. A few minutes later he is free. Chafing his wrists to restore his circulation, Sir Cedric hesitates for a long moment. </p><p></p><p><em>If I try to pull my friends free, and I fail, then we are all caught again- except for Dahlia,</em> he thinks uneasily. <em>Yet if I go for help I leave them at Sir Harth’s mercy. Either way, I am taking a huge chance.</em> </p><p></p><p>Sir Cedric searches himself, but he has no liquor, beer, wine or even mead with which to fortify himself. He looks around uncomfortably. The thought of all of them being lost to Harth is unpalatable. But the thought of leaving his friends is frightful. To leave their manly muscles in danger- it is unthinkable.</p><p></p><p>And yet, it must be done.</p><p></p><p>Sir Cedric steals up the stairway. Near the top, he does his best to sneak up and look before he leaps (so to speak). It is already late afternoon. The position of the shadows favors him at this point. The eye monster looks to be working at one of the other stairways. Nobody is looking his direction.</p><p></p><p>Sir Cedric sprints for the wall. He clambers through a hole at waist level, glancing over his shoulder only once. “Nobody hath theen me,” he mutters to himself. Then he hurries off towards Kamenda City. <em>I must alert father, and the baron,</em> he thinks. </p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> The next update will be the finale of this story hour. It will bring us to the conclusion of arc 1 of the Year 272 Campaign. A shocking surprise about elves! One last chance to spoil Sir Harth’s plan! The Battle for New Year’s Eve!!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 2867165, member: 1210"] Sir Fwaigo is on watch when they are taken. He walks back and forth, yawning occasionally, but alert. There is no visible reason for him to fall asleep; no visible reason at all. Especially given that the fire is just embers, banked low; and especially given that it is an overcast, moonless night. Sir Fwaigo sees nothing at all. *** The group awakens to find themselves bound tightly. Me- Sir Percival- immediately begins to struggle, but it is, for the moment at least, hopeless. Laughter dances across the early morning, and our heroes look upon a terrible sight. Leading what is surely the black magic cult, Sir Harth stands before them triumphant. “Fools!” he sneers. “I’ve beat you at last, and now you shall only live long enough to see my triumph!” Otis groans around a gag. “This is terrible,” moans Kyle. “It doesn’t matter,” cries Sir Colder. “We’ve collapsed the stairways! You’ll never dig them out in time for your ritual!” “Oh, but you’re wrong,” Sir Harth chuckles. “We will get through your little barrier with ease.” Gloating, Sir Harth turns and calls, “Come, my friend! Show yourself.” Something moves into view from the ruin itself. It is a horrific ball of angry-looking eyes, with a great sharp-toothed maw snarling and spitting. A huge central eye stares balefully out at them as the creature approaches, and atop its orb writhe nearly a dozen eye stalks! “Oh, no, my friends,” Harth smiles wickedly. “We will not have any trouble at all.” With that, one of the eyes fires a cold grey ray that blasts a hole in the ground. Where soil and grass once were, now there is only a crater and a puff of dust. It happens without a sound. “We won’t even have to dig...” Harth’s gloating is interrupted by Dahlia, who has seen enough. She [i]wild shapes[/i] free of the bonds holding her, turning into a bird. She catches Sir Harth, his cultists and the strange eye-monster off guard and begins speeding away as swiftly as her wings will carry her! A few rays of light from the eyes of the monster shoot past her, but she manages to avoid or resist them, and soon she is out of range! [i]But what do I do now?[/i] she wonders. [i]I can’t take out Sir Harth and his cult and that monster by myself. I need help. Maybe in Kamenda City...? Sir Martin should be there- either he, or Baron Rusk, may be able to help me.[/i] She grits her teeth. [i]I have to move quickly. We may need some time to muster forces to attack that thing.[/i] Grimly, she realizes that the beams that shot at her were different colors, and most of them didn’t seem to disintegrate matter. [i]That means it has unknown but highly dangerous and varied abilities,[/i] she groans to herself. [i]This is trouble. Big trouble. [/i] She wings her way north. *** The others struggle, apparently unsuccessfully, to free themselves. The strange eye creature begins clearing one of the stairwells of rubble, simply annihilating it with no mess and no trouble. [i]All that work for nothing,[/i] thinks Sir Fwaigo regretfully. It takes several hours, but once the passage is clear enough, the cultists carry our heroes downstairs, one at a time, and lay them against the goblins. One by one they grow rigid, drawn into the goblins’ magical stasis. Satisfied, the cultists leave after a moment more. Then, at last, Sir Cedric rolls off of the goblin. In the darkness, the cultists could not see the sweat on his brow. It took all his concentration to keep from being put into stasis, but somehow he had managed. Carefully, he rolls himself until he is in a position to saw at his bonds with the sharp edges of the goblins’ boots’ accoutrements. A few minutes later he is free. Chafing his wrists to restore his circulation, Sir Cedric hesitates for a long moment. [i]If I try to pull my friends free, and I fail, then we are all caught again- except for Dahlia,[/i] he thinks uneasily. [i]Yet if I go for help I leave them at Sir Harth’s mercy. Either way, I am taking a huge chance.[/i] Sir Cedric searches himself, but he has no liquor, beer, wine or even mead with which to fortify himself. He looks around uncomfortably. The thought of all of them being lost to Harth is unpalatable. But the thought of leaving his friends is frightful. To leave their manly muscles in danger- it is unthinkable. And yet, it must be done. Sir Cedric steals up the stairway. Near the top, he does his best to sneak up and look before he leaps (so to speak). It is already late afternoon. The position of the shadows favors him at this point. The eye monster looks to be working at one of the other stairways. Nobody is looking his direction. Sir Cedric sprints for the wall. He clambers through a hole at waist level, glancing over his shoulder only once. “Nobody hath theen me,” he mutters to himself. Then he hurries off towards Kamenda City. [i]I must alert father, and the baron,[/i] he thinks. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] The next update will be the finale of this story hour. It will bring us to the conclusion of arc 1 of the Year 272 Campaign. A shocking surprise about elves! One last chance to spoil Sir Harth’s plan! The Battle for New Year’s Eve!! [/QUOTE]
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