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Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1640579" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Hey, glad to see you're still reading, Padril. I may need you again in about a year (at the current pace of writing), when I finish <em>The Shackled City</em> and need a PDF conversion... <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f600.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":D" title="Big grin :D" data-smilie="8"data-shortname=":D" /> Thanks for the kudos. </p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 171</p><p></p><p>That same evening, in a dimly lit chamber deep within the fastness of Vaprak’s Voice, another discussion was taking place. </p><p></p><p>“The covey is sundered! We are undone!”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, do shut up, Olomasta. You always had a flair for drama. Has Kymzo reported back yet?”</p><p></p><p>The hag subsided into a chair and looked up at her sister, and nodded. “They have taken shelter in the pipe, near the overlook. But they will be back, Tribata, and we only have three giants left to guard us... and with our sister slain, we can no longer come together, to access the powers of the covey!”</p><p></p><p>Tribata’s mouth twisted in disapproval. “All that you say is true. And I’d only credit two giants to our cause; Dugobras may defend himself and his forge, but he won’t stir beyond for our sakes.” </p><p></p><p>Olomasta twisted her hands in a gesture of agitation. “What of the nerra? Will he help us?”</p><p></p><p>Tribata shook her head, and leaned in closer to her sister, her voice cast lower. “I spoke to him briefly—he is content to watch the <em>Mirror</em>, along with several of his kin. I will not press him, for if he senses that we are no longer in a position to command power, he will turn on us.”</p><p></p><p>Olomasta’s hand-wringing intensified. “Then what are we to do?”</p><p></p><p>“We are not without resources.”</p><p></p><p>“Your prize? You still control him?” </p><p></p><p>“Yes. And tomorrow, I will perhaps claim another.”</p><p></p><p>“But... why haven’t they removed the spell?”</p><p></p><p>Tribata’s smile was an evil thing. “I do not believe they can. That one, the spell-caster... there was something odd about her, but did you observe how she only used magical wands during the battle, and did not engage us with her own spells? I suspect—and this is confirmed by what the giants told us—that she is little more than a talented apprentice.”</p><p></p><p>“But those others... they killed the giants so easily...”</p><p></p><p>“Yes. The dwarves may cause difficulty, their natures resist our magic, and that one, that foul little thing that killed Sminelpa, I believe he is consecrated to a god, which will further enhance his resistance. But again, we are not without resources...”</p><p></p><p>“You mean...”</p><p></p><p>“Yes. After all, this concerns Him as well, does it not? Summon Kyzmo here to us. Tell him I have a message for him to deliver...”</p><p></p><p>And her cackle filled the room, sick with the promise of more blood to come.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 1640579, member: 143"] Hey, glad to see you're still reading, Padril. I may need you again in about a year (at the current pace of writing), when I finish [i]The Shackled City[/i] and need a PDF conversion... :D Thanks for the kudos. * * * * * Chapter 171 That same evening, in a dimly lit chamber deep within the fastness of Vaprak’s Voice, another discussion was taking place. “The covey is sundered! We are undone!” “Oh, do shut up, Olomasta. You always had a flair for drama. Has Kymzo reported back yet?” The hag subsided into a chair and looked up at her sister, and nodded. “They have taken shelter in the pipe, near the overlook. But they will be back, Tribata, and we only have three giants left to guard us... and with our sister slain, we can no longer come together, to access the powers of the covey!” Tribata’s mouth twisted in disapproval. “All that you say is true. And I’d only credit two giants to our cause; Dugobras may defend himself and his forge, but he won’t stir beyond for our sakes.” Olomasta twisted her hands in a gesture of agitation. “What of the nerra? Will he help us?” Tribata shook her head, and leaned in closer to her sister, her voice cast lower. “I spoke to him briefly—he is content to watch the [I]Mirror[/I], along with several of his kin. I will not press him, for if he senses that we are no longer in a position to command power, he will turn on us.” Olomasta’s hand-wringing intensified. “Then what are we to do?” “We are not without resources.” “Your prize? You still control him?” “Yes. And tomorrow, I will perhaps claim another.” “But... why haven’t they removed the spell?” Tribata’s smile was an evil thing. “I do not believe they can. That one, the spell-caster... there was something odd about her, but did you observe how she only used magical wands during the battle, and did not engage us with her own spells? I suspect—and this is confirmed by what the giants told us—that she is little more than a talented apprentice.” “But those others... they killed the giants so easily...” “Yes. The dwarves may cause difficulty, their natures resist our magic, and that one, that foul little thing that killed Sminelpa, I believe he is consecrated to a god, which will further enhance his resistance. But again, we are not without resources...” “You mean...” “Yes. After all, this concerns Him as well, does it not? Summon Kyzmo here to us. Tell him I have a message for him to deliver...” And her cackle filled the room, sick with the promise of more blood to come. [/QUOTE]
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