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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
The Heroes of Icemist (SmallBeginnings 2)- Interlude update 2/21/2008!
- Thread starter Enk&D'Shai
- Start date
Tamlyn said:That's fine. I'd be perfectly happy sleeping on your couch for a couple of months.
We don't allow pets or guests on the good couch, but you can fight Jon (He plays Worm aka Jon the Nudist or on chili nights Silent Jon) for the rights to the foldout couch. I think Enk once had to share a sleeping area with Jon...I would tell you to ask him about it, but I think therapy has surpressed those memories.
dshai527 said:We don't allow pets or guests on the good couch, but you can fight Jon (He plays Worm aka Jon the Nudist or on chili nights Silent Jon) for the rights to the foldout couch. I think Enk once had to share a sleeping area with Jon...I would tell you to ask him about it, but I think therapy has surpressed those memories.
Um...never mind. I might be able to hold my own on chili nights. But with him being Silent Jon and all...I just don't know if I can handle the additional d6 sneak attack damage.
Bubbalicious
First Post
Tamlyn said:I can, but it's not worth it. If my wife finds out I've been copping out all these years she'll kill me!
Just tell her you can only clean wearing nothing but a grass skirt and talking constantly like a pirate and she'll be grateful for the lack of assistance!
Bubbalicious said:Just tell her you can only clean wearing nothing but a grass skirt and talking constantly like a pirate and she'll be grateful for the lack of assistance!
Hey don'y give away all my secrets...besides grass skirts are coming back into fashion...just wait
Last edited:
Enk&D'Shai
First Post
Have you ever played "Spot the Infogames Reference?"
What in the name of all that is good and pure are you doing?
Good and pure? You mean like Annette Funicello?
More like the exact opposite of Britney Spears' image.
Great. Now we're going to get sued for defamation of character.
That only works if what you're saying's not true. Anyway, what are you doing?
I am reviewing what our readers have posted lately.
That explains the papers and the arcane scoring system. By the way, what does MFOE mean?
Makes Fun Of Enk. What else?
Shut it. So what's with the Tiki torches?
I am getting ready for the council meeting.
What council meeting?
The one we have to vote off a reader, until there is only one left?
What? What have you been smoking? We don't vote off a reader.
You mean they vote off a writer? Wow. Sucks to be you, man.
Speaking of me hating you, did you know that they'll be booking flights into space soon? I'm getting you a one way ticket for your next birthday. So what makes you think we're voting off readers in the first place? We've been trying to get more readers, not less.
We are? Then why do we take so long to post? I thought it was all part of an elaborate endurance contest.
You have no idea what we do, do you?
I know you said doo-doo.
Just push the button.
Tip of the Day: Pretending to be the Free Sample Associate is frowned upon by the department store who owns the merchandise that you are giving away. But it makes up for it in the comedy department when the customers try to leave with their new sample.
Yeah. You know, that old lady almost made it all the way out the door before security tackled her.
*****
Pack hummed quietly through an absentminded smile while making careful brushing motions with his hands. With each flick of his wrist, punctuated with a cluck of the tongue, another layer of dust disappeared from the rough carvings etched in the stone. After a few more flicks, the bard stepped back to admire his handiwork.
The relief was simple but powerful, depicting a procession of figures both male and female dressed in the vestments of the Zuran faithful. Each stood taller than Worm; their feet were wreathed in clouds, almost as if the priestly parade was floating around the cylindrical chamber. This would take my breath away if I hadn’t already lost it from the climb.
Worm’s voice cut through the stillness like pond ice splitting at spring. “How long do we have to wait here?” Pack jumped at his brother’s boom.
“Not so loud, Worm! For all we know there’s more monsters down here, and I don’t feel like being a midnight snack, or a midday snack, or maybe… Say, what time of day is it, anyway? Oh well, doesn’t matter. It’s not like there’s any good time of day to get eaten by horrible things in the dark like ghouls or grimlocks or grues.” Pack said the last with a shudder, and tried not to think about teeth on his toes.
“Anyway, Theo should be back soon enough. All he wanted to do was get some food and say goodbye. Once he gets back from up there,” Pack pointed upward at the staircase leading into the lower levels of the temple proper, “we head out whichever of these tunnels lead out of here. So relax. Because I’ve got the feeling from the way that Ander and Ashrem are acting it’s going to be a long time before we get more rest.” Pack glanced over at the two warriors; both had emptied their packs and were picking through gear, repacking and repairing their belongings. For a moment Pack thought about following their example, but quickly discarded the idea after realizing that he couldn’t even remember what he had stowed in his rucksack in the first place. Doing an inventory would be a nightmare.
Worm grunted. It seemed as if he was making a point not to look at the ranger and scout. “Bah! He’s probably up there enjoying a fancy meal with his father-in-law while we’re down here eating spoiled jerky squatting in a cellar.”
“This is hardly a cellar, Worm.” Pack tossed his arms wide, presenting the room to his brother for the fifth time since they’d arrived in the chamber. He spun slowly in place as he spoke, “Look at it! Someone took the time to carve these archways and walls, and it’s not like they did it because lots of people were going to see it, either. Each one of these is different, like they had eight different sculptors down here. One for each archway.” Pack glanced at his brother; the half-orc had yet to look up from his sulk. “At least it smells better than that sewer we’ve been trudging through.”
Worm didn’t crack a smile at the joke. “Smell or not, churches make my tusks ache.” The warrior rose to his feet and dusted his trouser legs. “I’ll be back in the sewers when you’re ready,” he said, ducking under the raised portcullis of the nearest archway.
“We should remain as close together as possible, Worm,” Ashrem called, slipping a dagger into his boot. “As the wise among my people once said, ‘the fish that swims alone is food for larger fish’.”
“Maybe I’ll listen, when your wisemen tell you to follow someone other than that Ionian fool,” muttered Worm, in a voice that Pack barely heard as the young warrior stomped away. If Ander or Ashrem heard, they didn’t say anything. After a moment, the bard followed his brother, following the light from Worm’s new trophy. He hadn’t traveled far before he came to the half-orc’s hulking form leaning easily against the slime covered wall. In his hands he held a long black spike and dirty rag.
“What are you doing?” said Pack.
“Polishing a claw from that thing I killed. What did you call it? The owlbear. I’m going to carve it into a piece for King’s Corner.” The half-orc held out the claw, which Pack had mistaken for rock, for closer inspection.
The bard just shook his head and propped up against his bigger brother. “About earlier, Worm…”
“It’s all right, Pack,” Worm interrupted. “We both said some things. There’s no reason to dig our graves over it. Toss it with the dishwater.”
The halfling chuckled. “Remember when you threatened to leave me stranded in the well tied to the bucket?”
“And I would have, too, if you’d have told Theo about the cows.” Pack saw the smile spread on his younger brother’s face. “I bet half of that herd still has big swords branded on their flanks.”
“Those were swords?” Pack laughed. “No wonder Theo always thought you were innocent. He spent three weeks sniffing around looking for someone who’d brand a big cross on his cattle!” Worm let loose a guffaw. Pack joined him, and the two spent a while letting out a long overdue laugh.
Pack let out a slow breath, and with it a final giggle. “Have you ever thought you might be too hard on him?”
“Who,” answered Worm with chuckle, “Ander? Not a chance.”
“I’m not saying he’s one of Tyr’s Own or anything, but he’s always done right by me.”
“But look at him, Pack. He makes bad decisions all the time, ones that could get us killed. It wouldn’t be so bad if he were a good enough in a fight to get us out of these scrapes, but it’s like I’m the one who has to clean up all his messes. I can’t imagine he wasn’t like that on your trip north.”
“He saved my life up there, Worm. More than once. At the end, he even took on a dozen dark skinned dwarves on those ant monsters by himself to try and give us enough time to take the children and run for it.”
“He beat a dozen mounted dwarves?” Worm said with a cocked eyebrow.
“Well, no. Once we figured out what he meant to do we went back for him and faced them down together.”
“So I was right – he almost got you killed then, too.”
Pack put a hand to his forehead in exasperation. “That’s not what I meant at all, Worm! You weren’t there. You didn’t see it when he had a pair of bolts sticking from his chest and still made sure that we all got away from a pack of goblins, or when he picked up a dragon right from under the nose of a goblin chief.” Pack saw his brother open his mouth again as if to protest, but the bard continued and cut off any retort. “Ander might not be as strong as you, or as good with a weapon, but he’s every bit as brave as you are. Maybe even more, because I think he knows that Ashrem’s sneakier, and I’m smarter, and Theo’s wiser, and you’re stronger. But none of that matters, because up there, when it counted, none of us would have come back if it hadn’t been for him.”
Worm didn’t reply immediately, which puzzled the halfling. His bigger brother could more than hold his own in an argument. Finally, the half-orc let out a breath through loose flapping lips; it reminded Pack of the way a stubborn mule would whicker once it finally decided to give way.
“You never told me about the bolts in the chest,” said Worm. "You really think he’s got it in him?”
“Yes, I do,” answered Pack. With Worm, he had never needed a lot of words. He still liked to use them, but he hadn’t needed them.
“If it means that much to you, I guess I can give him the benefit of…”
Ashrem’s measured voice cut through the half-orc’s reply. “Pack! Worm! Ander would like to address us before Brother Theo descends from the temple with supplies.” Pack looked up to see the feloine standing in the archway of the tunnel.
“We’ll be there in a moment,” said Worm. “We’re in the middle of something here.”
“I do not believe it was a request,” said Ashrem. Pack could tell that the scout was less than happy.
From the sound of it, so could Worm. “And I wasn’t asking for permission, mouser!” Worm was now in motion, heading deliberately toward the opening in a way Pack had seen many times before – his brother’s open mind was again shut.
Even in the dim light, Pack thought he saw Ashrem’s hackles rise. “All the better. It is unlikely you would have anything useful to add. Now, unless you have something to tell him, I suggest you go back to whatever game you were playing,” he finished, turning away from the tunnel and leaving the archway.
Worm stomped through the opening right after the feloine. “You want to hear what I have to say? Well here it is!”
***
“I want to thank you again for helping me and my friends, Your Eminence,” said Theo as he followed his former father-in-law down the stairway toward the cathedral catacombs. Each step on the ancient stones led them farther away from the hearty glow of the sanctuary lamps and into the flickering light of oil lanterns and torches. “And thank you for your understanding – I’m sure that once the crown digs deep enough they’ll discover who was really behind all of this. Given our history, I wasn’t sure that…”
“Please Theobald, I have asked you repeatedly to call me Father, if not out of the bond of marriage to my daughter then as head of your spiritual family.” The bishop paused before a patch of grime on the stone floor, gathering up his long robes in a vain attempt to keep from soiling the hem. “As for the charges, I would not have agreed to assist you if I had thought them credible. As for the rest, well perhaps it is time for us to put our pasts where they belong.” He said the last with a forced and unnatural looking smile, as if the old man wasn’t used to being happy.
“Well, we appreciate the thought and the gifts. I’ll make sure that whatever left over supplies we have are given to the temple in Hillen, and that the church coffers see a sizable donation come spring.”
“Yes, yes that will be fine,” said the older priest with a wave of his hand. “Tell me, son, have you given anymore thought to my offer?”
Theo reached ahead to hold open a passage door for the older bishop. “I have considered it as the wind and rain consider the farmer’s pleas,” the statement came out more harshly than intended, so Theo added, “Father,”
The bishop shook his head sadly as he moved through the portal. “We live in desperate times, Brother Theobald. The War has left Tor with a child as its sovereign and the soil no longer yields the crops of rains past. Pestilence and disease from Ion has started to spill northward into our own provinces. The people are in need in body and mind, but mostly it is their spirit that needs healing.” The priest slowed to let the younger man come even with him. “My son, Zuras has placed his mark upon you, and you have shown your devotion to him. Continue that devotion as you were meant to and we can give the people hope. You can show them that the Storm Lord, at least, has not forsaken them, and help them trust in the church. Help them grow rich in spirit as the church grows as heavy with worshippers as a pregnant cloud.”
“Your Eminence, I am not some red-combed rooster meant to strut around and help overfill your offering boxes. And I am not a minstrel set to dance for the masses just to make them feel better about their condition. Zuras has given me some small portion of his power, true, and I have always served him. I protected his holy places during the War, even at the most terrible of costs.” Theo paused for a moment, stopping and waiting for the bishop to face him. “I wanted to curse his name that day, but did not. Because I knew he had some sort of plan for me, and because I knew that one day I would be rewarded with a life among the clouds where we could spend a thousand lifetimes together. But I cannot – will not – allow others to tell me the Storm Lord’s wishes any longer. I minister to those that love the rain, and protect those I can. And I know that he is pleased, because he has not removed his hand from me.”
Theo turned away and started back down the passageway toward the top of the final stairwell down to his friends. “If you want to show the people that glory of Zuras, then you don’t need my help, Bishop. You need to open your coffers and show them the generosity our lord commands. Give your prayers and small miracles freely, and they will come to you. Only then will they – and you – see his glory.”
Theo felt a spindly hand on his shoulder as the bishop wheeled him gently about. “I expected that to be your answer, I did not suspect your tongue to be so sharp, Brother. There was a time when I was younger that I was idealistic enough to believe as you do now. But time has taught me that our world is an unforgiving place, and that sometimes what is right for the church is more important that what is right for the servant.”
Theo pulled away from the older man. “My friends and I must go. Be well, your Eminence,” he said as he started down the steps.
“You must understand, my son. What I do I do for you and for the church. We must sustain the faith, and losing one of the Chosen would be a blow from which we could not easily recover.”
“What are you talking about?” Theo said, turning back toward the ancient priest.
Before the bishop could answer, Theo heard Ander’s voice echo up from below. “Oh, there you are. Do you think we could…” He glanced down to see Ander enter a tunnel branching off from the circular chamber.
Worm’s angry bellow interrupted the ranger’s question. “You want to hear what I have to say? Well here it is!”
The shout was followed by the wet smack of a fist on flesh and bone. Ander staggered backward out of the tunnel and fell in a senseless heap.
Then Theo heard a rumble, as if thunder pealed in the far distance, and several doors burst open behind him, spilling a stream of armed men past him on the stairwell. Others holding ropes served as anchors for another dozen warriors as they slid down to the floor below. Each of them wore red tabards with a wolf’s head blazon.
Theo stared at the bishop, but the ancient priest had already looked away in what Theo could only imagine was shame.
*****
And the first person voted off Small Beginnings is...
What in the name of all that is good and pure are you doing?
Good and pure? You mean like Annette Funicello?
More like the exact opposite of Britney Spears' image.
Great. Now we're going to get sued for defamation of character.
That only works if what you're saying's not true. Anyway, what are you doing?
I am reviewing what our readers have posted lately.
That explains the papers and the arcane scoring system. By the way, what does MFOE mean?
Makes Fun Of Enk. What else?
Shut it. So what's with the Tiki torches?
I am getting ready for the council meeting.
What council meeting?
The one we have to vote off a reader, until there is only one left?
What? What have you been smoking? We don't vote off a reader.
You mean they vote off a writer? Wow. Sucks to be you, man.
Speaking of me hating you, did you know that they'll be booking flights into space soon? I'm getting you a one way ticket for your next birthday. So what makes you think we're voting off readers in the first place? We've been trying to get more readers, not less.
We are? Then why do we take so long to post? I thought it was all part of an elaborate endurance contest.
You have no idea what we do, do you?
I know you said doo-doo.
Just push the button.
Tip of the Day: Pretending to be the Free Sample Associate is frowned upon by the department store who owns the merchandise that you are giving away. But it makes up for it in the comedy department when the customers try to leave with their new sample.
Yeah. You know, that old lady almost made it all the way out the door before security tackled her.
*****
Pack hummed quietly through an absentminded smile while making careful brushing motions with his hands. With each flick of his wrist, punctuated with a cluck of the tongue, another layer of dust disappeared from the rough carvings etched in the stone. After a few more flicks, the bard stepped back to admire his handiwork.
The relief was simple but powerful, depicting a procession of figures both male and female dressed in the vestments of the Zuran faithful. Each stood taller than Worm; their feet were wreathed in clouds, almost as if the priestly parade was floating around the cylindrical chamber. This would take my breath away if I hadn’t already lost it from the climb.
Worm’s voice cut through the stillness like pond ice splitting at spring. “How long do we have to wait here?” Pack jumped at his brother’s boom.
“Not so loud, Worm! For all we know there’s more monsters down here, and I don’t feel like being a midnight snack, or a midday snack, or maybe… Say, what time of day is it, anyway? Oh well, doesn’t matter. It’s not like there’s any good time of day to get eaten by horrible things in the dark like ghouls or grimlocks or grues.” Pack said the last with a shudder, and tried not to think about teeth on his toes.
“Anyway, Theo should be back soon enough. All he wanted to do was get some food and say goodbye. Once he gets back from up there,” Pack pointed upward at the staircase leading into the lower levels of the temple proper, “we head out whichever of these tunnels lead out of here. So relax. Because I’ve got the feeling from the way that Ander and Ashrem are acting it’s going to be a long time before we get more rest.” Pack glanced over at the two warriors; both had emptied their packs and were picking through gear, repacking and repairing their belongings. For a moment Pack thought about following their example, but quickly discarded the idea after realizing that he couldn’t even remember what he had stowed in his rucksack in the first place. Doing an inventory would be a nightmare.
Worm grunted. It seemed as if he was making a point not to look at the ranger and scout. “Bah! He’s probably up there enjoying a fancy meal with his father-in-law while we’re down here eating spoiled jerky squatting in a cellar.”
“This is hardly a cellar, Worm.” Pack tossed his arms wide, presenting the room to his brother for the fifth time since they’d arrived in the chamber. He spun slowly in place as he spoke, “Look at it! Someone took the time to carve these archways and walls, and it’s not like they did it because lots of people were going to see it, either. Each one of these is different, like they had eight different sculptors down here. One for each archway.” Pack glanced at his brother; the half-orc had yet to look up from his sulk. “At least it smells better than that sewer we’ve been trudging through.”
Worm didn’t crack a smile at the joke. “Smell or not, churches make my tusks ache.” The warrior rose to his feet and dusted his trouser legs. “I’ll be back in the sewers when you’re ready,” he said, ducking under the raised portcullis of the nearest archway.
“We should remain as close together as possible, Worm,” Ashrem called, slipping a dagger into his boot. “As the wise among my people once said, ‘the fish that swims alone is food for larger fish’.”
“Maybe I’ll listen, when your wisemen tell you to follow someone other than that Ionian fool,” muttered Worm, in a voice that Pack barely heard as the young warrior stomped away. If Ander or Ashrem heard, they didn’t say anything. After a moment, the bard followed his brother, following the light from Worm’s new trophy. He hadn’t traveled far before he came to the half-orc’s hulking form leaning easily against the slime covered wall. In his hands he held a long black spike and dirty rag.
“What are you doing?” said Pack.
“Polishing a claw from that thing I killed. What did you call it? The owlbear. I’m going to carve it into a piece for King’s Corner.” The half-orc held out the claw, which Pack had mistaken for rock, for closer inspection.
The bard just shook his head and propped up against his bigger brother. “About earlier, Worm…”
“It’s all right, Pack,” Worm interrupted. “We both said some things. There’s no reason to dig our graves over it. Toss it with the dishwater.”
The halfling chuckled. “Remember when you threatened to leave me stranded in the well tied to the bucket?”
“And I would have, too, if you’d have told Theo about the cows.” Pack saw the smile spread on his younger brother’s face. “I bet half of that herd still has big swords branded on their flanks.”
“Those were swords?” Pack laughed. “No wonder Theo always thought you were innocent. He spent three weeks sniffing around looking for someone who’d brand a big cross on his cattle!” Worm let loose a guffaw. Pack joined him, and the two spent a while letting out a long overdue laugh.
Pack let out a slow breath, and with it a final giggle. “Have you ever thought you might be too hard on him?”
“Who,” answered Worm with chuckle, “Ander? Not a chance.”
“I’m not saying he’s one of Tyr’s Own or anything, but he’s always done right by me.”
“But look at him, Pack. He makes bad decisions all the time, ones that could get us killed. It wouldn’t be so bad if he were a good enough in a fight to get us out of these scrapes, but it’s like I’m the one who has to clean up all his messes. I can’t imagine he wasn’t like that on your trip north.”
“He saved my life up there, Worm. More than once. At the end, he even took on a dozen dark skinned dwarves on those ant monsters by himself to try and give us enough time to take the children and run for it.”
“He beat a dozen mounted dwarves?” Worm said with a cocked eyebrow.
“Well, no. Once we figured out what he meant to do we went back for him and faced them down together.”
“So I was right – he almost got you killed then, too.”
Pack put a hand to his forehead in exasperation. “That’s not what I meant at all, Worm! You weren’t there. You didn’t see it when he had a pair of bolts sticking from his chest and still made sure that we all got away from a pack of goblins, or when he picked up a dragon right from under the nose of a goblin chief.” Pack saw his brother open his mouth again as if to protest, but the bard continued and cut off any retort. “Ander might not be as strong as you, or as good with a weapon, but he’s every bit as brave as you are. Maybe even more, because I think he knows that Ashrem’s sneakier, and I’m smarter, and Theo’s wiser, and you’re stronger. But none of that matters, because up there, when it counted, none of us would have come back if it hadn’t been for him.”
Worm didn’t reply immediately, which puzzled the halfling. His bigger brother could more than hold his own in an argument. Finally, the half-orc let out a breath through loose flapping lips; it reminded Pack of the way a stubborn mule would whicker once it finally decided to give way.
“You never told me about the bolts in the chest,” said Worm. "You really think he’s got it in him?”
“Yes, I do,” answered Pack. With Worm, he had never needed a lot of words. He still liked to use them, but he hadn’t needed them.
“If it means that much to you, I guess I can give him the benefit of…”
Ashrem’s measured voice cut through the half-orc’s reply. “Pack! Worm! Ander would like to address us before Brother Theo descends from the temple with supplies.” Pack looked up to see the feloine standing in the archway of the tunnel.
“We’ll be there in a moment,” said Worm. “We’re in the middle of something here.”
“I do not believe it was a request,” said Ashrem. Pack could tell that the scout was less than happy.
From the sound of it, so could Worm. “And I wasn’t asking for permission, mouser!” Worm was now in motion, heading deliberately toward the opening in a way Pack had seen many times before – his brother’s open mind was again shut.
Even in the dim light, Pack thought he saw Ashrem’s hackles rise. “All the better. It is unlikely you would have anything useful to add. Now, unless you have something to tell him, I suggest you go back to whatever game you were playing,” he finished, turning away from the tunnel and leaving the archway.
Worm stomped through the opening right after the feloine. “You want to hear what I have to say? Well here it is!”
***
“I want to thank you again for helping me and my friends, Your Eminence,” said Theo as he followed his former father-in-law down the stairway toward the cathedral catacombs. Each step on the ancient stones led them farther away from the hearty glow of the sanctuary lamps and into the flickering light of oil lanterns and torches. “And thank you for your understanding – I’m sure that once the crown digs deep enough they’ll discover who was really behind all of this. Given our history, I wasn’t sure that…”
“Please Theobald, I have asked you repeatedly to call me Father, if not out of the bond of marriage to my daughter then as head of your spiritual family.” The bishop paused before a patch of grime on the stone floor, gathering up his long robes in a vain attempt to keep from soiling the hem. “As for the charges, I would not have agreed to assist you if I had thought them credible. As for the rest, well perhaps it is time for us to put our pasts where they belong.” He said the last with a forced and unnatural looking smile, as if the old man wasn’t used to being happy.
“Well, we appreciate the thought and the gifts. I’ll make sure that whatever left over supplies we have are given to the temple in Hillen, and that the church coffers see a sizable donation come spring.”
“Yes, yes that will be fine,” said the older priest with a wave of his hand. “Tell me, son, have you given anymore thought to my offer?”
Theo reached ahead to hold open a passage door for the older bishop. “I have considered it as the wind and rain consider the farmer’s pleas,” the statement came out more harshly than intended, so Theo added, “Father,”
The bishop shook his head sadly as he moved through the portal. “We live in desperate times, Brother Theobald. The War has left Tor with a child as its sovereign and the soil no longer yields the crops of rains past. Pestilence and disease from Ion has started to spill northward into our own provinces. The people are in need in body and mind, but mostly it is their spirit that needs healing.” The priest slowed to let the younger man come even with him. “My son, Zuras has placed his mark upon you, and you have shown your devotion to him. Continue that devotion as you were meant to and we can give the people hope. You can show them that the Storm Lord, at least, has not forsaken them, and help them trust in the church. Help them grow rich in spirit as the church grows as heavy with worshippers as a pregnant cloud.”
“Your Eminence, I am not some red-combed rooster meant to strut around and help overfill your offering boxes. And I am not a minstrel set to dance for the masses just to make them feel better about their condition. Zuras has given me some small portion of his power, true, and I have always served him. I protected his holy places during the War, even at the most terrible of costs.” Theo paused for a moment, stopping and waiting for the bishop to face him. “I wanted to curse his name that day, but did not. Because I knew he had some sort of plan for me, and because I knew that one day I would be rewarded with a life among the clouds where we could spend a thousand lifetimes together. But I cannot – will not – allow others to tell me the Storm Lord’s wishes any longer. I minister to those that love the rain, and protect those I can. And I know that he is pleased, because he has not removed his hand from me.”
Theo turned away and started back down the passageway toward the top of the final stairwell down to his friends. “If you want to show the people that glory of Zuras, then you don’t need my help, Bishop. You need to open your coffers and show them the generosity our lord commands. Give your prayers and small miracles freely, and they will come to you. Only then will they – and you – see his glory.”
Theo felt a spindly hand on his shoulder as the bishop wheeled him gently about. “I expected that to be your answer, I did not suspect your tongue to be so sharp, Brother. There was a time when I was younger that I was idealistic enough to believe as you do now. But time has taught me that our world is an unforgiving place, and that sometimes what is right for the church is more important that what is right for the servant.”
Theo pulled away from the older man. “My friends and I must go. Be well, your Eminence,” he said as he started down the steps.
“You must understand, my son. What I do I do for you and for the church. We must sustain the faith, and losing one of the Chosen would be a blow from which we could not easily recover.”
“What are you talking about?” Theo said, turning back toward the ancient priest.
Before the bishop could answer, Theo heard Ander’s voice echo up from below. “Oh, there you are. Do you think we could…” He glanced down to see Ander enter a tunnel branching off from the circular chamber.
Worm’s angry bellow interrupted the ranger’s question. “You want to hear what I have to say? Well here it is!”
The shout was followed by the wet smack of a fist on flesh and bone. Ander staggered backward out of the tunnel and fell in a senseless heap.
Then Theo heard a rumble, as if thunder pealed in the far distance, and several doors burst open behind him, spilling a stream of armed men past him on the stairwell. Others holding ropes served as anchors for another dozen warriors as they slid down to the floor below. Each of them wore red tabards with a wolf’s head blazon.
Theo stared at the bishop, but the ancient priest had already looked away in what Theo could only imagine was shame.
*****
And the first person voted off Small Beginnings is...
Jon Potter
First Post
Enk&D'Shai said:
Oh Oh!! Pick me! Pick me!
No... wait...
Don't pick me! Don't pick me!
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