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Talislanta - Tales of the Bloody Hell
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<blockquote data-quote="xnosipjpqmhd" data-source="post: 4011351"><p>Tales of the Bloody Hell</p><p>Book Two: The Tree of Life </p><p>Session 5, Part 3 (from 28 Feb 2004)</p><p></p><p>Motar turned and began descending steps, going straight ahead at first, then stopping suddenly when he realised that the stairs turned to the right in a tight spiral. Before him was a vast expanse of black. Though his senses gave him no clues, his mind told him the void was unimaginably large. More cautiously then, he began descending the spiral staircase, guessing as best he could were the steps would be. Vidian and Dar followed blindly behind.</p><p></p><p>Back in the arena, Gann dove through the door and ran down the stairs before the Kharakhan giants reached it. Suddenly the thrall ran headlong toward the Kang, who was guarding the stairs with his greatsword. The Kang was bowled over and clung precariously to the side of the stairs. Luckily, Gann forced himself to stop just in time to avoid running off the sudden edge of the staircase. Then the turned and look back to see that the Kang had crawled back onto the step and was half-sprawled on the stairs. Gann lifted his axe to behead his foe, but the wily easterner buckled his arms and tumbled down the steps into Gann, knocking him over. But Gann grappled with the Kang as he went down, holding the blade of his axe against his foe. With each step the pair tumbled down, the axehead bit ever deeper into the Kang’s flesh, and when they rolled to a stop, Gann alone rose to his feet. For the second time in a week, the Kang pirate had been killed.</p><p></p><p>At the top of the stairs, the giants reached the door and began their ponderous descent into the darkness, pointing their axe blades before them. Unwilling to be delayed behind the slow warriors, Phantar paused and focused his mental energies. In a short while, he faded from view, then ran down the stairs and past the Kharakhan giants.</p><p></p><p>Motar and Vidian finally reached the bottom of the stairs and bumped into a large and heavy door. Motar used his free hand to find the handle, then pulled it open to reveal a long hallway beyond. The walls and arched ceiling of the room were covered with ornate stone carvings. Torches, already burning, sat in sconces on the walls. On either side of the hall were three granite statues of Kharakhan warriors. Their sad stone eyes stared at each other across the shadow-filled room.</p><p></p><p>“The sad children,” mumbled Vidian, looking at the statues.</p><p></p><p>Sensing a trap, Motar began to examine the nearest one, and the sudden sound of grating stone confirmed his suspicions. The last two statues at the far end of the hall stepped forward, their joints creaking with each movement. With a shudder of dust and splintering stone, their arms broke loose from the position they had held for millenia. In their hands were clutched stone knives the size of swords to normal men. They turned toward Motar and began walking forward.</p><p></p><p>With foes in front and behind, Vidian rushed forward and rolled between the legs of the statue on the left. He clambered to his feet and kept running. Motar ran forward as well but lost his balance and fell directly in front of the right-hand statue. Curiously, however, the statue made a deliberate effort to step over Motar and continue walking.</p><p></p><p>Dar ran into the hall with enemies hard on his heels. Seeing the approaching statues, he turned immediately to the left and hoped he could avoid being caught between the Red Viper and the stone Kharakhan. But the ever-vigilant Arimite stepped into the room and immediately noticed the Sindarin. He swung his sword in a fiery arc that ended on Dar’s shoulder. The blade bit deep, but the cloak did not catch fire. Dar stumbled backward against the wall, searching for an exit like a frantic Ferran cornered by pursuers. The Red Viper struck again, and Sindarin blood splattered onto the floor as Dar fell.</p><p></p><p>The Arimite sorceress walked into the room and turned her attention to the statues. With bolts of dark force, she began blasting large chunks of granite from their bodies.</p><p></p><p>Gann rushed into the hall and saw the Red Viper standing over Dar’s unconscious body. He struck the Arimite with his axe, but the blow was softened by the large man’s armour.</p><p></p><p>At the far end of the hall, Vidian wrenched a torch from the nearest sconce and shone its light on the first steps of another staircase like the one he had just descended. He turned to be sure that Motar was following, then headed down the steps. These spiraled downward like the previous set and also ended at a similar door. The two heroes tugged on the large door until it creaked open.</p><p></p><p>The tomb beyond held six sarcophagi, three each lined up along the left and right walls. At the far end of the room atop a three-tiered dias was a huge throne carved from a single block of stone. Upon it sat a Kharakhan. His body was wrapped in long winding strips of cloth. In several places the cloth was in tatters, and the decaying flesh beneath was plainly visible though untold eons of time should have long since rotted it away. Across his lap lay two giant axes. Upon his head rested a thick circlet of precious metal set with a large diamond. Even in death his gaunt face looked noble.</p><p></p><p>When the heroes entered the tomb, the thick layer of dust that had lain there for centuries stirred. The six sarcophagi opened with a distant peal of thunder, and six man-sized figures emerged from within. Each was clad in a tabard emblazoned with a many- limbed tree, beneath which they wore ancient metal armour. Each drew a weapon and gazed at Vidian. They took no notice of Motar.</p><p></p><p>Motar pointed to the throne. Something about that fixture beckoned him. </p><p></p><p>The pair of heroes darted across the room as the six guardians climbed out of the sarcophagi and closed in upon them. Vidian looked around for another way out of the room, but he saw none.</p><p></p><p>When the heroes reached the dias, the arms of the mummified giant shook free from the lethargy of ages. The hands lifted the two great axes into the air as he rose to his feet with a creaking noise. Towering three times taller than Motar, the mummified giant turned and gave a slight, stiff bow toward the bearer of the silver eye. Then he turned toward Vidian and readied his axes for battle.</p><p></p><p>Motar began examining the throne hastily, looking for any clue about its importance. Vidian waved his hands and constructed a thin grey shield around himself. The guardians quickly bashed their way through the arcane barrier and began attacking the Cymrillian, ignoring Motar completely.</p><p></p><p>In the hall far above, Gann swung his adamant war axe above his head, striking the Red Viper again and again. The Arimite’s body was knocked first left and then right. A panicked look crossed his face, and he struck savagely at the thrall with his flaming sword. Despite the burning metal searing his flesh, the thrall stood unflinching and continue to slam his axe against the Arimite’s body until the blade was buried deep into the foeman’s chest. The Red Viper lay in a bloody mess amid the rubble of the shattered statues. His sword, no longer burning, lay nearby.</p><p></p><p>Gann ran to Dar’s side and fed him a healing elixir. Dar awoke with a start, clutching handfuls of dust and broken stone in his fists.</p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, the sorceress had fled down the second staircase after Motar and Vidian. Behind her came Phantar, eager to exact revenge for the treatment he had received in the Aamanian tomb.</p><p></p><p>When the Arimite woman entered the throne room, the mummified giant turned toward her. She summoned a powerful necromantic bolt and sent it streaking toward him. He staggered back, then lurched forward toward her, axes at the ready. Again she focused her power and blasted the giant.</p><p></p><p>Finally Motar and Vidian shoved on the throne from behind, and it slid forward to reveal a passage leading down. The throne tumbled down the steps of the dias. Vidian darted into the opening, and the guardians that had been attacking him suddenly turned toward the Arimite sorceress at the front of the room.</p><p></p><p>Before Motar followed Vidian into the passage, he let fly two arrows at the sorceress to throw her off guard. But before the arrows were even loosed, she completed a magical spell that gave her the power of flight. As she began to rise into the air, Phantar appeared behind her and struck her leg with his sword. Nevertheless, she lifted into the air and floated over the guardians in the room and down into the passage that had lain undisturbed beneath the throne for uncounted ages.</p><p></p><p>The passage turned three times then stopped at a door. Vidian and Motar rushed through the door and out into an open sunlit field. It was as if they had been transported to a distant place by magic. Instead of opening on another subterranean chamber, the door took them to a beautiful grassy land. Around them in all directions were grassy plains, but directly ahead was a low hill topped by a small, many-branched tree. The trunk of the tree was pure white, and the branches were covered with glowing leaves of ever-changing colours. Dangling from the lowest branch was a long sword, secured there by three threads: one white, one black, and one gold. </p><p></p><p>“L’raat,” mumbled Vidian. “P’tog. Sl’zan. The sword is the shard.”</p><p></p><p>Back in the tomb, all of the guardians stopped in the their tracks and turned to the throne, staring dumbly as if confused. Phantar, Dar, and Gann took advantage of the situation to pass them by and chase the sorceress into the passage. When they emerged into the sunlit field, they too were dumbfounded.</p><p></p><p>All who were present watched as Motar walked up the low rise to the tree, grasped the hilt of the Shard with his left hand, and untied the strings that secured it with his right. No sooner had he removed the last string than he was struck from behind by a bolt of vile darkness.</p><p></p><p>The Arimite sorceress had shaken herself free from the spell of the Tree.</p><p></p><p>Phantar and Gann dove at the woman, knocking her to the ground. Gann prepared to bring his axe down on her but stopped short. All of a sudden Motar was not next to the tree on the hill but standing over the woman’s body, the Shard balanced evenly in his hand. His face was at peace. He calmly slid the point of the Shard slowly into the sorceress’ chest. Her body shuddered as the tip of the Shard entered her and approached her heart. She looked up at him.</p><p></p><p>“Stop,” she said. A trickle of red issued from her mouth and ran like crimson sweat down the soft curve of her neck. “I carry your child.”</p><p></p><p>Motar felt the heartbeat within her body as it pounded against the point of the sword and travelled up the blade to his hand. Nestled within the pulse was an almost imperceptible counter- rhythm, beating fainter and faster.</p><p></p><p>Memories filled Motar’s mind, visions of shadows that played across the naked body of a nubile young Zandiran woman as she heaved and swayed above him in the darkness of the stables at Conjuror’s Point. In the space of four days, a new life had blossomed and grown with amazing speed.</p><p></p><p>Overcome with the torturous sweetness of the Tree of Life, Motar knew he could harm no innocent. He stepped back, drawing the Shard out of her body as slowly as it had been thrust in, it’s master’s energy now spent.</p><p></p><p>The heroes stood powerless as the sorceress sat up with ease and levitated into the air.</p><p></p><p>“You cannot slay me,” she said in a voice that was no longer her own. “I am Mordante.” She turned and glided silently back through the solitary stone doorway that led to Modor’s Tomb.</p><p></p><p>A brilliant multicoloured light shone from the Tree of Life when Mordante departed. As the light fell upon them, all of the pain and trouble that had filled the lives of those five individuals was swept away, and peace filled the hearts of the Arimite knifefighter, Cymrillian pilot, Sindarin collector, Thrall warrior, and Zandiran swordsmage.</p><p></p><p> * * *</p><p></p><p>EPILOGUE: THE HAUL</p><p></p><p>As the heroes made their way back up the winding stairs of Modor’s Tomb, they pondered all that they had experienced and the lessons they had learned. </p><p></p><p>Then they pillaged the place.</p><p></p><p>Overturning all of the sarcophagi in the throne room, they carted away a suit of red iron partial plate, an enchanted black iron long sword (to Vidian), a magical spear with undetermined powers, three large jars with 1,000 gold lumens each, a large 6-karat amethyst, a magical blue iron greatsword, an ivory box containing a magical jade bracelet, a red gold crown, a large 4-karat blue pearl, a large silver axe, and a 7-karat black diamond (to Phantar). </p><p></p><p>From the Slumbering Hall of the Sad Children, they took the Red Viper’s long sword made of red iron, magical gauntlet made of delicately articulated black iron plates (to Gann), red iron chain mail, red iron dagger, and red gold ring set with a 2-karat fire opal.</p><p></p><p>Some things never change.</p><p></p><p>THE END (FOR NOW?)</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="xnosipjpqmhd, post: 4011351"] Tales of the Bloody Hell Book Two: The Tree of Life Session 5, Part 3 (from 28 Feb 2004) Motar turned and began descending steps, going straight ahead at first, then stopping suddenly when he realised that the stairs turned to the right in a tight spiral. Before him was a vast expanse of black. Though his senses gave him no clues, his mind told him the void was unimaginably large. More cautiously then, he began descending the spiral staircase, guessing as best he could were the steps would be. Vidian and Dar followed blindly behind. Back in the arena, Gann dove through the door and ran down the stairs before the Kharakhan giants reached it. Suddenly the thrall ran headlong toward the Kang, who was guarding the stairs with his greatsword. The Kang was bowled over and clung precariously to the side of the stairs. Luckily, Gann forced himself to stop just in time to avoid running off the sudden edge of the staircase. Then the turned and look back to see that the Kang had crawled back onto the step and was half-sprawled on the stairs. Gann lifted his axe to behead his foe, but the wily easterner buckled his arms and tumbled down the steps into Gann, knocking him over. But Gann grappled with the Kang as he went down, holding the blade of his axe against his foe. With each step the pair tumbled down, the axehead bit ever deeper into the Kang’s flesh, and when they rolled to a stop, Gann alone rose to his feet. For the second time in a week, the Kang pirate had been killed. At the top of the stairs, the giants reached the door and began their ponderous descent into the darkness, pointing their axe blades before them. Unwilling to be delayed behind the slow warriors, Phantar paused and focused his mental energies. In a short while, he faded from view, then ran down the stairs and past the Kharakhan giants. Motar and Vidian finally reached the bottom of the stairs and bumped into a large and heavy door. Motar used his free hand to find the handle, then pulled it open to reveal a long hallway beyond. The walls and arched ceiling of the room were covered with ornate stone carvings. Torches, already burning, sat in sconces on the walls. On either side of the hall were three granite statues of Kharakhan warriors. Their sad stone eyes stared at each other across the shadow-filled room. “The sad children,” mumbled Vidian, looking at the statues. Sensing a trap, Motar began to examine the nearest one, and the sudden sound of grating stone confirmed his suspicions. The last two statues at the far end of the hall stepped forward, their joints creaking with each movement. With a shudder of dust and splintering stone, their arms broke loose from the position they had held for millenia. In their hands were clutched stone knives the size of swords to normal men. They turned toward Motar and began walking forward. With foes in front and behind, Vidian rushed forward and rolled between the legs of the statue on the left. He clambered to his feet and kept running. Motar ran forward as well but lost his balance and fell directly in front of the right-hand statue. Curiously, however, the statue made a deliberate effort to step over Motar and continue walking. Dar ran into the hall with enemies hard on his heels. Seeing the approaching statues, he turned immediately to the left and hoped he could avoid being caught between the Red Viper and the stone Kharakhan. But the ever-vigilant Arimite stepped into the room and immediately noticed the Sindarin. He swung his sword in a fiery arc that ended on Dar’s shoulder. The blade bit deep, but the cloak did not catch fire. Dar stumbled backward against the wall, searching for an exit like a frantic Ferran cornered by pursuers. The Red Viper struck again, and Sindarin blood splattered onto the floor as Dar fell. The Arimite sorceress walked into the room and turned her attention to the statues. With bolts of dark force, she began blasting large chunks of granite from their bodies. Gann rushed into the hall and saw the Red Viper standing over Dar’s unconscious body. He struck the Arimite with his axe, but the blow was softened by the large man’s armour. At the far end of the hall, Vidian wrenched a torch from the nearest sconce and shone its light on the first steps of another staircase like the one he had just descended. He turned to be sure that Motar was following, then headed down the steps. These spiraled downward like the previous set and also ended at a similar door. The two heroes tugged on the large door until it creaked open. The tomb beyond held six sarcophagi, three each lined up along the left and right walls. At the far end of the room atop a three-tiered dias was a huge throne carved from a single block of stone. Upon it sat a Kharakhan. His body was wrapped in long winding strips of cloth. In several places the cloth was in tatters, and the decaying flesh beneath was plainly visible though untold eons of time should have long since rotted it away. Across his lap lay two giant axes. Upon his head rested a thick circlet of precious metal set with a large diamond. Even in death his gaunt face looked noble. When the heroes entered the tomb, the thick layer of dust that had lain there for centuries stirred. The six sarcophagi opened with a distant peal of thunder, and six man-sized figures emerged from within. Each was clad in a tabard emblazoned with a many- limbed tree, beneath which they wore ancient metal armour. Each drew a weapon and gazed at Vidian. They took no notice of Motar. Motar pointed to the throne. Something about that fixture beckoned him. The pair of heroes darted across the room as the six guardians climbed out of the sarcophagi and closed in upon them. Vidian looked around for another way out of the room, but he saw none. When the heroes reached the dias, the arms of the mummified giant shook free from the lethargy of ages. The hands lifted the two great axes into the air as he rose to his feet with a creaking noise. Towering three times taller than Motar, the mummified giant turned and gave a slight, stiff bow toward the bearer of the silver eye. Then he turned toward Vidian and readied his axes for battle. Motar began examining the throne hastily, looking for any clue about its importance. Vidian waved his hands and constructed a thin grey shield around himself. The guardians quickly bashed their way through the arcane barrier and began attacking the Cymrillian, ignoring Motar completely. In the hall far above, Gann swung his adamant war axe above his head, striking the Red Viper again and again. The Arimite’s body was knocked first left and then right. A panicked look crossed his face, and he struck savagely at the thrall with his flaming sword. Despite the burning metal searing his flesh, the thrall stood unflinching and continue to slam his axe against the Arimite’s body until the blade was buried deep into the foeman’s chest. The Red Viper lay in a bloody mess amid the rubble of the shattered statues. His sword, no longer burning, lay nearby. Gann ran to Dar’s side and fed him a healing elixir. Dar awoke with a start, clutching handfuls of dust and broken stone in his fists. Meanwhile, the sorceress had fled down the second staircase after Motar and Vidian. Behind her came Phantar, eager to exact revenge for the treatment he had received in the Aamanian tomb. When the Arimite woman entered the throne room, the mummified giant turned toward her. She summoned a powerful necromantic bolt and sent it streaking toward him. He staggered back, then lurched forward toward her, axes at the ready. Again she focused her power and blasted the giant. Finally Motar and Vidian shoved on the throne from behind, and it slid forward to reveal a passage leading down. The throne tumbled down the steps of the dias. Vidian darted into the opening, and the guardians that had been attacking him suddenly turned toward the Arimite sorceress at the front of the room. Before Motar followed Vidian into the passage, he let fly two arrows at the sorceress to throw her off guard. But before the arrows were even loosed, she completed a magical spell that gave her the power of flight. As she began to rise into the air, Phantar appeared behind her and struck her leg with his sword. Nevertheless, she lifted into the air and floated over the guardians in the room and down into the passage that had lain undisturbed beneath the throne for uncounted ages. The passage turned three times then stopped at a door. Vidian and Motar rushed through the door and out into an open sunlit field. It was as if they had been transported to a distant place by magic. Instead of opening on another subterranean chamber, the door took them to a beautiful grassy land. Around them in all directions were grassy plains, but directly ahead was a low hill topped by a small, many-branched tree. The trunk of the tree was pure white, and the branches were covered with glowing leaves of ever-changing colours. Dangling from the lowest branch was a long sword, secured there by three threads: one white, one black, and one gold. “L’raat,” mumbled Vidian. “P’tog. Sl’zan. The sword is the shard.” Back in the tomb, all of the guardians stopped in the their tracks and turned to the throne, staring dumbly as if confused. Phantar, Dar, and Gann took advantage of the situation to pass them by and chase the sorceress into the passage. When they emerged into the sunlit field, they too were dumbfounded. All who were present watched as Motar walked up the low rise to the tree, grasped the hilt of the Shard with his left hand, and untied the strings that secured it with his right. No sooner had he removed the last string than he was struck from behind by a bolt of vile darkness. The Arimite sorceress had shaken herself free from the spell of the Tree. Phantar and Gann dove at the woman, knocking her to the ground. Gann prepared to bring his axe down on her but stopped short. All of a sudden Motar was not next to the tree on the hill but standing over the woman’s body, the Shard balanced evenly in his hand. His face was at peace. He calmly slid the point of the Shard slowly into the sorceress’ chest. Her body shuddered as the tip of the Shard entered her and approached her heart. She looked up at him. “Stop,” she said. A trickle of red issued from her mouth and ran like crimson sweat down the soft curve of her neck. “I carry your child.” Motar felt the heartbeat within her body as it pounded against the point of the sword and travelled up the blade to his hand. Nestled within the pulse was an almost imperceptible counter- rhythm, beating fainter and faster. Memories filled Motar’s mind, visions of shadows that played across the naked body of a nubile young Zandiran woman as she heaved and swayed above him in the darkness of the stables at Conjuror’s Point. In the space of four days, a new life had blossomed and grown with amazing speed. Overcome with the torturous sweetness of the Tree of Life, Motar knew he could harm no innocent. He stepped back, drawing the Shard out of her body as slowly as it had been thrust in, it’s master’s energy now spent. The heroes stood powerless as the sorceress sat up with ease and levitated into the air. “You cannot slay me,” she said in a voice that was no longer her own. “I am Mordante.” She turned and glided silently back through the solitary stone doorway that led to Modor’s Tomb. A brilliant multicoloured light shone from the Tree of Life when Mordante departed. As the light fell upon them, all of the pain and trouble that had filled the lives of those five individuals was swept away, and peace filled the hearts of the Arimite knifefighter, Cymrillian pilot, Sindarin collector, Thrall warrior, and Zandiran swordsmage. * * * EPILOGUE: THE HAUL As the heroes made their way back up the winding stairs of Modor’s Tomb, they pondered all that they had experienced and the lessons they had learned. Then they pillaged the place. Overturning all of the sarcophagi in the throne room, they carted away a suit of red iron partial plate, an enchanted black iron long sword (to Vidian), a magical spear with undetermined powers, three large jars with 1,000 gold lumens each, a large 6-karat amethyst, a magical blue iron greatsword, an ivory box containing a magical jade bracelet, a red gold crown, a large 4-karat blue pearl, a large silver axe, and a 7-karat black diamond (to Phantar). From the Slumbering Hall of the Sad Children, they took the Red Viper’s long sword made of red iron, magical gauntlet made of delicately articulated black iron plates (to Gann), red iron chain mail, red iron dagger, and red gold ring set with a 2-karat fire opal. Some things never change. THE END (FOR NOW?) [/QUOTE]
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