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In the Valus - The Heroes of Marchford (Chapter 14 Continues - 12/24/08)
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<blockquote data-quote="Funeris" data-source="post: 4580757" data-attributes="member: 22792"><p><strong>Chapter 14: Gurnag's Head (continued)</strong></p><p></p><p>A choir of bells surrounded Drake. Reality undulated against the noise, flashing angry reds and vivid oranges.</p><p></p><p>Drake smelled burning. The heat wrapped around him, a great serpent constricting tightly against his flesh. Suffocating, he gasped.</p><p></p><p>Vicious air stormed into his lungs, wracking his body with painful sputtering and coughing.</p><p></p><p>Drake’s head bounced against the stone floor. Large, yellow, animal eyes bore into Drake. A throb echoed inside the back of his skull. Outside his head, words vibrated within the roaring death of the fire.</p><p></p><p><strong>KEEP STILL.</strong></p><p></p><p>The Gordian relaxed. He waited for death’s grip.</p><p></p><p>The fires passed.</p><p></p><p>Darkness swallowed his sight. The yellow eyes—Motega’s eyes—reappeared. </p><p></p><p>“Get up, Gordian.” Roughly, Motega gripped him by the shoulder. Drake stood. “That was a damned fool thing to do.” </p><p></p><p>Drake was shoved out of the crevasse, head still woozy. The mage stood there, smug grin aglow. The priest’s hands probed for wounds. </p><p></p><p>“No signs of a bite,” Fitz reported. “Just a few minor scrapes.”</p><p></p><p>“Stupid luck,” Motega rumbled from behind. His hybrid form slid tightly through the gap in the wall. He pulled a handful of herbs from a blackened pouch. “Eat this.”</p><p></p><p>Drake accepted the herbs with a drink to wash away the bitterness.</p><p></p><p>“If it doesn’t kill you,” Motega informed, “you will avoid the curse.” </p><p></p><p>“The other lycanthrope?” Magnus queried.</p><p></p><p>“Just a carcass.” Motega grinned wolfishly. He opened his hand. A silver key rested in the oversized palm.</p><p></p><p>The mage eyed the key greedily, fingers twitching. “Is that…”</p><p></p><p>“The key,” Drake finished. A gilded ‘C’ clashed against the slender silver. </p><p></p><p>Motega dropped the key into his pouch. “We will finish searching this tower before we head back.” Without waiting for Fitz to heal the Gordian, Motega headed deeper into the caverns.</p><p></p><p>“Hope it wasn’t too hot in there, for you, Gordian,” Magnus chuckled. He strolled after Motega.</p><p></p><p>“Not at all,” Drake retorted, “the heat reminded me of the feel of your mother.” Magnus spun but the Gordian didn’t notice. Alcohol spilled from a skin into the warrior’s mouth.</p><p></p><p>Magnus’ fingers twitched. Reluctantly, he released the arcane threads unconsciously weaving around his hands. <em>There will be a reckoning</em>, he promised silently.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Funeris, post: 4580757, member: 22792"] [b]Chapter 14: Gurnag's Head (continued)[/b] A choir of bells surrounded Drake. Reality undulated against the noise, flashing angry reds and vivid oranges. Drake smelled burning. The heat wrapped around him, a great serpent constricting tightly against his flesh. Suffocating, he gasped. Vicious air stormed into his lungs, wracking his body with painful sputtering and coughing. Drake’s head bounced against the stone floor. Large, yellow, animal eyes bore into Drake. A throb echoed inside the back of his skull. Outside his head, words vibrated within the roaring death of the fire. [b]KEEP STILL.[/B] The Gordian relaxed. He waited for death’s grip. The fires passed. Darkness swallowed his sight. The yellow eyes—Motega’s eyes—reappeared. “Get up, Gordian.” Roughly, Motega gripped him by the shoulder. Drake stood. “That was a damned fool thing to do.” Drake was shoved out of the crevasse, head still woozy. The mage stood there, smug grin aglow. The priest’s hands probed for wounds. “No signs of a bite,” Fitz reported. “Just a few minor scrapes.” “Stupid luck,” Motega rumbled from behind. His hybrid form slid tightly through the gap in the wall. He pulled a handful of herbs from a blackened pouch. “Eat this.” Drake accepted the herbs with a drink to wash away the bitterness. “If it doesn’t kill you,” Motega informed, “you will avoid the curse.” “The other lycanthrope?” Magnus queried. “Just a carcass.” Motega grinned wolfishly. He opened his hand. A silver key rested in the oversized palm. The mage eyed the key greedily, fingers twitching. “Is that…” “The key,” Drake finished. A gilded ‘C’ clashed against the slender silver. Motega dropped the key into his pouch. “We will finish searching this tower before we head back.” Without waiting for Fitz to heal the Gordian, Motega headed deeper into the caverns. “Hope it wasn’t too hot in there, for you, Gordian,” Magnus chuckled. He strolled after Motega. “Not at all,” Drake retorted, “the heat reminded me of the feel of your mother.” Magnus spun but the Gordian didn’t notice. Alcohol spilled from a skin into the warrior’s mouth. Magnus’ fingers twitched. Reluctantly, he released the arcane threads unconsciously weaving around his hands. [i]There will be a reckoning[/i], he promised silently. [/QUOTE]
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