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| Thread: Fan Fic: Search for the Clanlord |  This thread is pages long: 1 2 3 · «PREV / NEXT» |
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted March 28, 2011 07:03 PM |
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Quote:
I take it that the entities you refer to in the beginning are the dragon Gods?
Yes, Malassa and Urgash participating in the final roll to see who would win, though there is a chain of events that lead up to Raelag's capture on Ashan that we will delve into later on in the story. Urgash had to do a lot more than get lucky in order to have come that far. We'll be seeing more of the Dragon Gods before this is over.
And thank you! I'm glad that you found the reading enjoyable. ^___^
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Elvin
Admirable
Omnipresent Hero
Endless Revival
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posted March 29, 2011 08:00 PM |
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Edited by Elvin at 20:01, 29 Mar 2011.
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Man this is a long read  I really like the immersion value of your writing, you give some very believable details and juggle well characters, places and culture. A well-deserved qp if a little late 
Chapter 2 to follow.
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H5 is still alive and kicking, join us in the Duel Map discord server!
Map also hosted on Moddb
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted March 29, 2011 09:10 PM |
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Edited by KuzAnn at 22:38, 29 Mar 2011.
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I'm so glad you like it! =D I really tried to get in on the "ground level" of Ashan rather than the length that we view it from in the games. And fill in a few cultural/transport details, flesh things out a bit, you know? I actually didn't get a chance to note what the pack animals the wizards use are, maybe later if there's room.
Edit: Don't mind me, just running through and fixing the little mistakes that I somehow missed!
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted March 30, 2011 09:29 PM |
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Well, that at least gets you something to do while you are writing the third chapter. 
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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evinin
Supreme Hero
Servant of Asha
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posted March 31, 2011 09:38 AM |
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Hello, Kuz!
I've finally had some time to read your writings. I've read only the first part and I hope that soon I'll read the second, too. Very impressive! And interesting that is. I'll be really happy if you write in my thread, too, you are great.
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted March 31, 2011 09:51 AM |
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Edited by KuzAnn at 03:44, 08 Jun 2011.
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I'm glad that you enjoyed it! ^____^ And, to be honest, I don't really know where to start with your thread in the way of writing. I feel like I just came in way too late. ^__^;
CHAPTER COMPLETE
~ ~ ~
Chapter 3: Tomb of the Vile Skull
Burmik burst into the infirmary just after the sun's light began to brighten the sky, with Jonathan close behind him. Kalifra looked up from the herbal mix she was preparing. “Did you feel it?” she asked, her hands trembling.
“Yes. It came, last night,” Burmik was shaking as well. “I... Couldn't leave my house last night, it was too terrifying...”
“I could barely understand what Burmik was talking about when I came to see him this morning,” Jonathan said. Burmik had sent a magical note to Jonathan requesting that he come to see him at dawn. “Do you know why it was here?”
“It was after someone,” Kalifra said, tightly clasping her hands before her in an attempt to stop their shaking. “The fear was so strong, all I could do was cower in my room and hope it would go away...”
“You don't think it was after Zehir, do you?” Jonathan asked apprehensively.
Without another word the three rushed out of the infirmary and sprinted towards Zehir's camp, dreading what they might find when they arrived there. Much to their relief they found that not only was the camp intact, it also seemed to be functioning normally. The only members who were not out stretching or tending to their morning duties were the archmagi and Zehir himself.
Jonathan walked over to Zehir's tent and was about to go in when Zehir himself stepped out and almost bumped into the guardsman. “Oh, Jonathan,” Zehir said, looking and sounding very tired.
“Had a bad night?” Jonathan asked, eying the shadows under Zehir's eyes, as well as his general paleness.
“How did you know?” Zehir asked halfheartedly. Not only did he still feel as weary as he did the day before, he also had a mild headache that seemed to be getting worse as the morning wore on. He held the book he had been carrying out to Burmik when he noticed the other wizard, “Thanks for lending it to me. I finished it last night.”
Burmik accepted the book. “You were the one it came after, weren't you?” he asked.
Zehir looked around at his three visitors, then sighed. “Let's talk inside, I think I need to sit down.” He held the tent flap open for them, and entered himself after they were all inside. With his guests seated in light-weight chairs at various points around the tent, Zehir took the last chair himself and tiredly rested his head in one hand. “So, is there something you forgot to tell me? Again?” he asked tartly. “You never told me that a monster would come after me in my sleep.” Perhaps he was being a bit harsh on the people of the oasis, but tiredness had lessened his already short patience.
“This has never happened before,” Jonathan cut in before Zehir could say anything else. “We didn't even know there was a monster connected to the Bones. They were always completely inanimate.”
“It seems that only those who could use magic felt its presence,” Kalifra added, clasping her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. “My husband didn't even wake when it came, and Jonathan didn't notice it either...”
“You know...” Burmik began, stroking his bushy white beard and knitting his pale brows in thought. “The elementals have been touchy as of late as well. Whenever I ask them, they tell me that “they” woke something up that should've stayed asleep. They refuse to tell me who “they” are, though. I swear, sometimes they're as bad as oracles.” The last sentence was a grumble, partly because Burmik was annoyed that the elemtentals might be keeping something from him. “But do you think “they” might be the bandits that've been harassing us lately?”
“It's possible,” Jon said. “We need to get rid of them anyway, and if they're the ones causing this magical mess, so much the better once they're dealt with.” He looked at Zehir, who seemed the worse for wear due to his headache and tiredness. “Will you be able to come with us?”
“Yeah, let's get it over with,” Zehir said, rubbing his forehead with one hand; his headache had intensified as they sat in his tent, and it felt like there was a swarm of angry, painful bees buzzing around inside of his skull. “Just give me something for the headache and we can get going.”
Two days of hard riding brought the group to the stands of rocks and cacti that Jonathan had guessed served as the bandit hideout. Half the guard of the oasis was present, along with half of Zehir's archmagi and gremlins; he'd left his golems to guard the oasis in case an attack came while they were away. Throughout the entire trip Zehir's headache remained as a constant dull pain, causing him to be slightly irritable, though he tried to hold his tongue when speaking to anyone else. Upon reaching the border of the stands, the group found obvious signs of activity, confirming Jonathan's suspicion that the bandits had at least been there recently. The sand in front of one of the trails that wound through the cacti and rocks had been thoroughly disturbed recently, and Jonathan carefully scouted ahead to see if they were clear to enter.
When the guardsman returned, his face was grim. “It's clear. Seems we're a bit late,” he said.
The group hurriedly followed, with Zehir at the front, to see what Jonathan meant. After winding and twisting for a good many yards, the trail opened up into a clearing. Zehir paled as he fought the urge to vomit at the sight that greeted them; the bodies of dead dark elves littered the clearing, the unrelenting heat of the day causing them to create a stench that was foul enough to make his eyes water. Some had been ripped limb from limb, while others lay in odd positions, their backs or necks twisted and broken.
“Dragon of Light...” one of the guards muttered as he looked upon the clearing. “When do you reckon this happened, Jon?”
Jon grimaced with disgust as he knelt down next to one of the bodies and examined it. “By the degree of decay, I'd say roughly two days ago,” he replied.
“There were prisoners,” another guard said, striding towards the southern trail that led away from the clearing and pointing at the prominent drag marks that ran through the loose sand.
“Missing villagers?” Zehir suggested, having overcome his urge to be violently sick from what he saw, though the act of suppressing it only made his current headache worse.
“Let's check for survivors,” Jonathan said, getting back up. “They may have escaped during the battle, one group per trail.” He pointed at the three unexplored trails that led out of the clearing, one to the south, one northwest, and the last to the east.
Their group split, with Zehir and a small group taking on the eastern trail. The path eventually opened up into a smaller clearing that lacked the horrific gore that the first clearing had been filled with. Here the sand was merely slightly disturbed, and there were no other paths leading away from the area. Zehir was about to enter the clearing when a shadow rose from the shelter of the scrub on the far side and darted at him, shoving him into the dense cluster of cacti that he was standing next to.
Zehir let out a yell of fury as he pulled himself out of the thorns and cast about, trying to find whoever was responsible for shoving him into the wretched pointy plants yet again. His eyes narrowed when he spotted the dark elf who had tried to escape by shoving past him, only to be stopped by the fact that Zehir's companions had the trail completely blocked off. “I am so close to blowing you up right now it's not even funny,” Zehir snarled, his voice tight over the pain of the cactus thorns that now covered the left side of his body. “You'd better have a damn good reason for pushing me into those wretched plants.”
The dark elf—a tall blue-haired female dressed in uncommonly modest clothes for one of her kind—blinked at Zehir, and he noticed that her eyes were cerulean blue, with plainly visible pupils. “Thought you lot were a group of mummies, back to finish the job,” she said plainly. “They killed or dragged off everyone else.”
“Oh, so you're one of the bandits,” Zehir said, walking over to the dark elf. Without warning, he pushed her into a nearby stand of cacti. “And now we'll take you back to Jonathan.”
“Lord Zehir! That was completely unnecessary!” one of the archmagi cried as another helped the dark elf out of the cacti that she had fallen into.
“She started it, and I'm in a bad mood,” Zehir muttered dangerously, glaring at the archmage.
“It was still awfully petty,” the older wizard nagged.
Instead of replying verbally, Zehir scowled, plucked out a particularly annoying thorn that was lodged in his left temple, and stiffly flicked it at the archmage's head. The spine harmlessly bounced off the archmage's turban and fell to the ground. The old wizard sighed through his nose and rolled his eyes, then followed the group as it led the dark elf to the main clearing to wait for Jonathan.
The other search parties returned to the main clearing empty-handed, and were surprised to find Zehir's group surrounding a dark elf woman, with Zehir himself grumbling to himself in the back and pulling cactus spines off the left side of his body; somehow the dark elf had escaped her encounter with the cacti with very few thorns, probably due to the nimbleness that most dark elves were known to possess.
“Cactus again, Zehir?” Jonathan asked, rubbing the back of his head as he looked at the young mage. “How'd you fall in them this time?”
Zehir scowled and wordlessly jerked a thumb at the dark elf, then continued removing the cactus spines; anger had made his headache even worse, on top of the intense stinging caused by the cactus spines. She stood calmly in the center of Zehir's group, having pulled out the few thorns that stuck to her on the way to the main clearing. A slight, disgusted wrinkle of her nose was the only sign she gave of noticing the carnage that littered the clearing. She sighed. “His group startled me and I knocked him into them while I was trying to escape,” she explained.
“So why haven't you run off now?” Jonathan asked. “The eastern trail is completely clear.” Zehir glanced at Jonathan, unsure of what the guardsman was suggesting.
The dark elf shrugged. “It's nice to have some living company,” she said, gesturing to the group that surrounded her. “Perhaps a chance to kill off the undead that made life so difficult...”
“Ah, problem with that is, you're part of the bandit group that's been bothering the oasis lately,” Jonathan said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We can't trust you. In fact I'm pretty sure that Zehir over there would blast you to kingdom come at the first opportunity,” he added, pointing at Zehir.
Clearly hearing Zehir's name for the first time caused the dark elf to pause. “Zehir? First of the Circle from the Silver Cities?” she asked.
“The very same,” Zehir grumbled, removing a thorn that had lodged itself in the membrane between two of his fingers.
An expression of relief briefly passed over the elf's face. “Then you know Ylaya, she can vouch for me.”
“Really? It worries me to hear that Ylaya is supporting bandits who prey on Ygg-Chall's allies now,” Zehir said coldly, not bothering to look at the dark elf and instead checking his left hand to see if he missed any thorns. “Doesn't sound like her at all.”
The dark elf sighed; it was obvious that Zehir was going to continue being difficult with the mood he was in. “I'm one of her agents. Contact her, tell her that Kylara is reporting in. My mission's pretty much over now that this group is dead.”
Zehir left off checking his lower left arm for cactus spines and pulled out his scrying mirror again, rolling his eyes as he did; with it he would be able to talk to Ylaya if she was near a reflective surface, or alert her to Zehir's call if she wasn't. Since Ylaya was a friend and Zehir knew her fairly well, he didn't need a piece of her to focus his spell. His dark brows furrowed with worry when the mirror revealed nothing but a gray fog. “That's odd,” Zehir said, his foul attitude having been temporarily dissolved by the discovery. “I should be able to reach her easily.”
Kylara clenched her hands with worry as she looked over Zehir's shoulder at the small round mirror; she had moved over to watch while he was focusing on the spell. She was a few inches taller than him, to his added annoyance. “Is she alright? Can you tell?”
Her tone suggested that she was genuinely concerned for Ylaya's well-being, though Zehir didn't trust her completely just yet. “No, I can't. This has never really happened before,” he said.
With a sigh the dark elf walked back to where she'd been standing before, the long braid of her hair swinging back and forth with her gait. Jonathan had been watching the events silently, and now he raised his eyebrows. “What do you think, Zehir?” he asked. “Should we tie her up or let her come with us?”
Zehir glanced at Kylara, then he looked back to Jonathan and shrugged. “We can always capture her if she tries to run,” he said. “What can you tell us about what went on here?” Zehir asked, gesturing at the bodies.
“A big group of mummies showed up, tried to drag the prisoners away,” she held up her hands when Jonathan scowled at her. “The prisoners weren't my idea. I tried to dissuade them from taking them, and if I'd protested too much they would have gotten suspicious,” Kylara explained. “The leader of our group had been carrying around this... Weird medallion made of crystal, I swear that's what made him start acting strange, ever since he took it from that damn pyramid—”
“Pyramid?” Zehir interrupted, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “What did it look like?”
“Big, pointy, made of blue and white stone, with a courtyard,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. She frowned when she noticed how pale Zehir had become. “What's wrong?”
“Ah, just a bad feeling,” Zehir said.
Kylara eyed the wizard for a moment, then shook her head and continued from where she'd left off. “Our leader actually went with the mummies willingly, along with around half of the others. The rest fought the undead... You can see how well that turned out for them,” she gestured at the nearest corpse.
“And you can take us to the pyramid?” Jonathan asked.
“Yes. I followed them for about a day before I saw it again, it's definitely the place they were headed to,” Kylara replied, nodding. “It's about two days south of here.”
“Could be a trap...” one of the guardsmen murmured, with a rumble of agreement running through the rest in the crowd.
Jonathan nodded. “Could be, but we need to rescue those people. There are ten of them missing right now, and I suspect that all of them are prisoners of the undead now,” he glanced at Kylara as he said this, as if asking her whether the count was correct, and the dark elf nodded; the bandits had brought in ten hostages altogether, and they had all been taken by the mummies. “Well, Zehir?” Jonathan asked, glancing at the young wizard, who had finished cleaning the thorns off himself and was tiredly running his fingers through his hair. “You still up to it?”
“Of course,” Zehir said, looking up at the rest of the group. “If anything, I need to pay that monster back for giving me this wretched headache, and I have a very strong feeling that it will be waiting in that pyramid.” He sighed and looked around at the corpses littering the clearing. “But first we need to clean this up, it feels wrong to just leave them sitting out in the open for anything to pick up.”
Jonathan looked like he couldn't disagree more with Zehir on that fact, since the bandits had been harassing his home for weeks, but he assisted in digging the graves and settling the corpses into them anyway. The clearing looked much nicer after they finished, though it was still covered in dried puddles of blood. After they finished Jonathan shaded his eyes, looking to the west as the sun made the final leg of its journey across the bleached blue sky. “We'll set up camp here for the night, there's another large clearing farther north that we can get our mounts into,” he said.
Silently the group filed out of the clearing and walked back to the entrance, where they'd left their mounts. The guard that had been keeping watch gave a short wave and assisted in untying the leads. Kylara craned her neck, looking around the dunes and cacti, then put two fingers to her mouth and whistled loudly. The rectangular head of a large blue raptor popped up above a nearby grove of cacti, and the beast pulled itself from its hiding place before trotting over to nuzzle its master.
“Ty, did you miss me?” she cooed to him as she scratched the crease between his neck and jaw. The raptor grumbled in pleasure and relief, then crouched to allow her to mount more easily. “Good boy,” Kylara said, gently scratching his neck. The large reptile had hidden itself away with all its gear on, and Kylara was ready to go as soon as the group moved out.
The members of the group went about various activities once they'd set up camp, some sharpening weapons, others napping after such a tiresome day. Zehir sat outside his small tent, the scrying mirror held in his lap, and tried to contact Ylaya again. He tried this until it made his headache worse, at which point he sighed and tucked the mirror away before entering his tent to turn in early.
Little did Zehir know, there had been a lone spectator watching his attempts throughout the evening. Kylara leaned back against Ty's scaly flank and drummed her fingers against her kneecap. It disturbed her greatly that Ylaya could not be reached, and she wondered—not for the first time—if something awful had happened to the Keeper of Law. She looked up when Jonathan approached her.
“Something wrong?” he asked nonchalantly.
Kylara shrugged. “Ylaya used to talk about Zehir, I didn't expect him to be such a grouch,” she said, half-joking with her reply.
Jonathan waved a hand dismissively. “He's had a nasty headache for a few days now, so he's been short with everyone lately. Zehir's a nice fellow, once you get to know him. And once his headache's gone.” Jonathan chuckled. “The sooner we fix this mess the sooner he'll feel better.”
Earlier that same day...
Burmik woke to the sound of large boulders thumping the grassy ground just outside his front door; the earth elementals were on the move for some reason. He hurriedly pulled on a coat, tripped into a pair of slippers, and ran outside to see what all the fuss was about. Dozens of elementals of all kinds flowed from the elemental conflux and split evenly as they approached the central lake of the oasis, one headed north, and the other south. Once they reached the southern and northern entrances of Tajra Oasis, the elemental beings formed up in a defensive line and stood waiting.
A low rumble was now barely audible in the quiet morning air; the birds had stopped singing. Burmik, rightfully guessing that something horrible was coming towards the oasis, ran to rouse his fellow wizards and any able-bodied fighters that were left in the village. Soon all battle-ready residents had congregated around Tajra Lake, preparing for the worst as Burmik scaled one of the paths leading to the eastern plateau-top. The view that greeted him once he reached his vantage point made his stomach twist in fear.
Several hundred mummies approached the oasis at a shuffling jog, followed by something that moved under the sand like a fish just below the surface of the water. He turned to go back and tell the others of what he saw, and was surprised to find a fire elemental smoldering just behind him. Carefully it slipped past him to take up an offensive position near the edge of the cliff, where it would be able to rain fire down on any mummies that attempted to scale the small mountain. A quick glance along the plateau revealed that other fire elementals were doing the same, readying themselves for the coming assault.
“I whill take you to the grhound,” an air elemental that had appeared before Burmik whispered in a voice that sounded like a light breeze.
“Uh, alright,” Burmik said hesitantly; he'd never flown anywhere by elemental before.
Luckily the elemental was completely serious in getting Burmik to the ground safely, and soon his feet rested on the cool grass of the oasis once again. He ran over to the group of humans gathered near Tajra Lake. “There's a massive horde of mummies coming this way,” he said breathlessly as he reached them.
Expressions of fear and apprehension appeared on the faces of the villagers. They left off wondering about their fate when Grittchit arrived with every one of Zehir's golems in tow, as the wizard had left the gremlin in charge of caring for them and directing them in case of an emergency such as this one. “I'm sending these to reinforce the elemental lines,” he said before waving his instructions to the golems, who immediately broke off to assist the elementals.
Within minutes the mummies reached the entrances to the oasis and threw themselves at the defenses, smashing against the front line of earth elementals while the fire, water, and air beings behind them attempted to pick off the attackers before they could break through. One by one the earth elementals fell as the mummies focused on them, temporarily banishing their physical forms back to the elemental plane of earth. The undead then began to make short work of the remaining elementals as Zehir's golems slashed through their seemingly endless numbers with their blades.
The northern lines broke first, and mummies flooded past the struggling elementals to attack the people of the oasis. Soon after this, the southern line broke as well, and soon the entire oasis was overrun with undead. Burmik and Korjev stood back to back, firing off spell after spell as the mummies advanced on them.
A small girl's shrill scream cut through the air, followed by what sounded like a huge explosion. The two wizards watched in amazement as something sent several dozen mummies flying through the air, causing them to crumble into dust as they struck the ground. Seconds later a hulking mass of rock appeared behind the undead that assaulted the two men, and a huge stone fist made short work of clearing them out.
Burmik gaped at the huge being standing before him. “A grand elemental!” he shouted in disbelief. Such beings were only theorized about, even in the higher circles of the Silver Cities, as the spells and knowledge required to summon them had been lost during a war long ago.
Tulia grinned gleefully at her teacher from her perch the elemental's shoulder. “Rocky saved me!” she shouted happily, doing her best to hug Rocky's massive head.
“How...” Burmik began, but he stopped himself; explanations would have to wait until after the battle was over.
The mummies' forces dwindled as the fighting wore on, until midday when an unearthly shriek split the skies over the oasis. Humanoids and elementals alike flinched at the awful sound, while the undead paused in their attack and abruptly pulled back, taking captured villagers with them. The retreating undead left the oasis with surprising speed, even as the village's remaining forces attacked and destroyed them from behind. Soon the only remaining evidence of the battle were the piles of dust from destroyed mummies and magical scorch marks and craters that had been caused by the wizards' spells as they fought.
Wearily the villagers took stock of their numbers; twenty of their number had been carried off by the mummies, and none were dead. Tulia sobbed quietly as both her father and Rocky tried to give her comfort; her mother had been one of the residents that the mummies had carried off.
Burmik's hands shook with exhaustion as he helped to prepare healing salves for the minor injuries that several villagers had sustained during the fight. Kalifra had been kidnapped by the undead as well, leaving the less-skilled healers to tend to the people of the oasis. All they could do at this point was bandage people up and hope that the mummies wouldn't come back, and that Jonathan and the others would be able to rescue those who had been carried off.
Once all the villagers were seen to, Burmik's curiosity drove him to approach the grand earth elemental, who was now standing sentry outside of Tulia's house; the girl's father had put her to bed early that night, with the hope that she would be able to sleep. “Hello,” he said uncertainly as he approached the massive being.
The grand elemental's glowing stone eyes fixed themselves on him. “You are going to ask how Tulia summoned me,” he said plainly, with a deep voice that bore the sounds of grating boulders with it.
“Oh, well... Yes, I was,” Burmik said truthfully.
“We do not come when called. Only when asked.” The elemental rumbled quietly, then looked away; it would say no more.
Another two days of travel brought them within sight of the pyramid, which Zehir watched with no small amount of apprehension. Along the way Kylara had revealed that the bandit group responsible for the current mess had been under suspicion by Ylaya for quite some time, and the Keeper had sent Kylara to keep an eye on them. Unfortunately spying on the group had not been enough to keep them away from the tomb, and she also revealed that there was an even larger group that the troublemakers had originally split from.
As the party drew within a few miles of the structure, Jonathan called their attention to a quickly-approaching dust cloud that came from the west. The guardsman paled visibly as he looked at it through his spyglass.
“They're mummies,” Jonathan said quietly.
Zehir muttered a sight spell that would allow him to see farther into the distance in order to confirm what Jonathan had spotted. Dozens of mummies ran over the dunes, some carrying bound and gagged prisoners over their shoulders. “They must have attacked the oasis while we were away,” the young wizard said in dismay. “We can't let them get to the pyramid!” Zehir didn't know why he said this, but for some reason he had a hunch that things would take a turn for the worst if the prisoners were taken into the building before the mummies could be stopped.
Jonathan led the group in a hasty march, quickly eating up the last few miles of their journey and engaging the mummies in the courtyard of the pyramid itself. Zehir blasted the undead with fire spells while his elephant trampled any who came near into dust; though they rarely fought enemies at close range, each mount had been trained from an early age to protect its master in combat. Kylara leaped from the back of her raptor soon after they entered the fray, in order to put the knives that she had drawn from within her folds of clothing to better use. Ty fought alongside his master, ramming mummies into the sand and slashing at them with his sharp claws.
A few mummies carrying prisoners managed to make it into the pyramid during the confusion, and Zehir looked up from the enemies that he was currently setting aflame in time to see the last of them disappear inside the vast structure. He cast about, trying to find anyone close enough to signal to come with him, but he had been separated from the main part of the group in the heat of battle; the closest combatant was Kylara, and she was far out of earshot at this point. Zehir knew that something truly awful awaited the prisoners inside, but he hesitated after quickly guiding his elephant over to the entrance. Despite his apprehension, Zehir jumped down from his saddle and dashed inside, hoping to get to the villagers before something else did.
Kylara glanced towards the pyramid—checking to see if there were any more enemies in that direction—and spotted a flash of golden fabric as Zehir entered the shadows of the entrance, leaving his elephant to guard the door against any mummies that might try to enter after him. Without a moment's hesitation, the dark elf sprinted after him, whistling for her raptor to follow. Ty took up a guard position on the front archway as Kylara dashed after Zehir, hoping to catch up soon enough to give him some solid backup in case of a fight. Tracking Zehir was easy enough, since there were no side passages of any sort running off the main hall and he left quite a few incinerated mummies in his wake, and soon Kylara found herself in a massive room, the farthest reaches of which were obscured by shadow. Zehir stood frozen just inside the room, as if he had been trapped within an invisible block of ice. He had been caught in the act of taking a step back, seemingly because he had set his eyes on the horrible object that occupied the center of the room; a massive dragon skull. She stood and stared at the skull for a few moments, then turned to Zehir when it did nothing.
“Zehir?” Kylara asked, waving a hand in front of the young wizard's eyes. She frowned in annoyance when this produced no reaction, and took a few brief moments to examine Zehir more closely; now she could see that every muscle in his body was tense, throwing his bare neck and hands into especially sharp detail, and that he seemed to be breathing very little. “Zehir!” the dark elf snapped, this time placing herself squarely between Zehir's staring eyes and the skull. Now she jammed her thumb into a sensitive place between two of his ribs, hoping to get a reaction from him as a result of the pain.
Much to Kylara's relief—and brief amusement—Zehir's previously tense expression turned to one of comical agony as he tried to flinch away from her hand. This sudden movement caused him to lose his balance and fall to the floor, stirring up dust that had collected there over the years. “Ow...” he said, wincing as he rubbed the area that Kylara had hit.
“You were stuck,” Kylara said, offering Zehir a hand up.
The wizard took it and allowed her to help him stand. “Thanks. It was trying to get me again,” Zehir said, carefully avoiding the skull with his eyes. “It gets you when you look at it directly. Wait, don't!” he tried to grab her before she looked over her shoulder at the skull again, but she seemed immune to its terrible power.
“I looked at it earlier and nothing happened. Maybe it's because you use magic,” she suggested. Further inspection of the room revealed the villagers that they had come after; some huddled together in fear while others stared blankly at the skull.
Zehir followed her gaze and noticed the prisoners as well, noting that those who were staring at the skull wore the clothes of wizards or healers. “I think you're right. Now we need to figure out how to get all these people out of here before any minions show up,” he said, using a hand to shield his eyes from the skull as he jogged over to the villagers with Kylara.
One of the captive men jumped to his feet as they approached. “You came for us!” he said, obviously relieved by the sight of them. Upon hearing this, those who were not staring at the skull rose as well, murmuring thankful prayers or phrases of relief.
“Is anyone hurt?” Zehir asked, glancing quickly over the assembled villagers; they all seemed to be physically unharmed.
“We're fine, but they won't stop staring at that thing! I can't get Kalifra to move at all!” one of the women said in dismay, shaking the blank-faced healer's shoulders to prove her point. “They don't react to anything, even pain.”
“It must have overwhelmed them already,” Zehir said, thinking quickly. “Let's try removing them from the chamber and see if that helps.”
The group moved toward the doorway, only to find that it was now blocked by an invisible wall of some sort. The prisoners began to panic, each wondering if they would ever escape this nightmare, while Zehir tried to find where the blocking spell was rooted. He tensed when he felt the power in the room shift, as if the monster were watching them closely.
“Kylara, help me,” Zehir said, beckoning for the dark elf to come with him. “I need to find the focus for the blocking spell before that thing takes us all.”
“Right,” Kylara said, attempting to calm the prisoners one last time before going to Zehir. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just keep me from looking at it while I work,” Zehir replied, turning to the heavily engraved walls and scanning them for traces of magic. He squinted as he looked further down the wall, having noticed an oddly-shaped patch of shadow on the ground. Kylara matched Zehir stride for stride as he hurried to the strange shadow, and showed some brief shock when she realized what it was.
The body of a dark elf warlock lay on the ground, clutching the chain of a strange crystalline amulet in his right hand. “That's our group leader,” Kylara said quietly, reaching down to pick up the amulet.
“Wait,” Zehir said quickly, seizing her hand with a surprisingly strong grip before she could touch the object. “That thing's part of the skull, don't touch it.”
Kylara drew back as Zehir released her hand, relieved that he had told her that before she had a chance to touch the artifact. Instead she touched her hand to a strange black soot that covered the surrounding tile in intricate patterns and symbols. “A magic circle?” she mused.
The pair stood back to examine the patterns from a better angle, and Zehir paled as he realized what it was for. “That artifact allowed the skull to take him. He sacrificed himself to it, and removed some special bindings that were on it...” he said. “That's why it's able to keep us from leaving now, but if I can reverse the spell we should be able to get out...” Zehir knelt beside the blackened magic circle while Kylara positioned herself between him and the skull. After a few minutes of study the young wizard nodded and stood. “I can remove the barrier and free the villagers from here, the rest I can do once we're out.”
“Good. Hurry up,” Kylara said, shivering. Even she could feel the wrongness of the place now, as if the monster at the room's center was constantly growing stronger. She glanced at the prisoners near the exit every now and then, to make sure that they were still safe; they seemed fearful about their predicament, but they were still relatively unhurt.
Zehir quickly drew up a simpler magic circle—with Kylara mirroring his movements to keep the Skull out of his view—and stood at its center, focusing his magic as he performed the spell. One of the villagers yelped as her hand fell through the doorway—she had been pressing against the invisible barrier at that moment. Those who had been mesmerized by the skull shook their heads and blinked, their trance finally broken by Zehir's spell. “Alright, let's get out of here,” Zehir said finally, after breaking the circle by rubbing his shoe over part of its perimeter.
The air in the chamber became heavy with anger as Zehir and Kylara followed the villagers out, and the young wizard noticed the monster coiling for one last strike just before its attack hit him. Zehir stumbled in mid-stride and fell forward, bruising his knees and hands as he caught himself before his face could hit the floor. He gritted his teeth in pain when the skull began to consume his magic, and he knew that it would begin feeding on his very life if he didn't shake it off soon. Kylara helped Zehir to his feet and half-carried him towards the exit as the wizard fought the monster off, forcing it back out of his head before it could devour him from the inside. A crazed howl rang through the pyramid as the monster's power fell away from Zehir, leaving a series of broken emotions and memories behind.
Blinding sunlight greeted the pair as they staggered out of the pyramid, Kylara still supporting Zehir as he tried to recover from the monster's last attack. Finally the young wizard managed to get his legs under control and walked the rest of the way to his elephant, waving Jonathan and Kalifra away as they came to help him. He'd seen the monster's intent when it invaded his mind that last time, and he had to finish the binding before it could get loose again—the fact that he now knew that it could feed off of souls and magic strengthened his resolve. Zehir's elephant trumpeted a greeting to his rider as the wizard approached, then lowered himself and offered a bent leg to help Zehir climb onto his back. “Come on, you can't be near the pyramid when I finish this,” Zehir said, motioning for the group to follow him to the top of the nearest massive dune.
Once he had reached the dune's summit and ensured that everyone was well away from the pyramid, Zehir gathered the last remnants of his power and completed his spell, slamming his open palm into the sand before him to punctuate his will with action. People staggered as the ground shook, and they stared in awe as the pyramid and its courtyard began to sink beneath the desert sands. Within minutes there was nothing left of the tomb, with only the recently-stirred sand to show that there had ever been anything there at all. If you have even the tiniest ounce of compassion left, you'll stay buried beneath the sands, Zehir thought as his body sagged from the overexertion required to use such a powerful spell. He had reestablished the bindings that had previously held the creature captive, and sank the pyramid to keep people like Kylara's late group leader from allowing the monster to come unbound again.
Zehir distantly heard the soft rustle of Kalifra's skirts as she came near him. “Burnout. I'd think you of all people would know better...” he lost consciousness before he could hear the rest of the healer's lecture. Looking back on the memories he'd glimpsed from the monster, Zehir could only wonder at how a creature could be twisted and broken in such a way that there was nothing left afterward but insanity and vicious malice.
~ ~ ~
Aaaand also a little sketch of what Rocky looks like.  His real name is kinda long and complicated, hence Tulia just calling him "Rocky" for short. Little kids aren't very creative. This is a little rushed since it's just a quickie to give you an idea of what a grand earth elemental looks like.
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted April 04, 2011 05:28 AM |
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Great story! Additions are good, well thought out and flow smoothly. Great job.
Now follow these three simple steps...:
1) Become an author.
2) Sell books.
3) Get rich.
Trust me, you could easily do this.
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 04, 2011 05:39 AM |
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Haha! Well, we'll see if I can at least write better than the guys behind H5's story. ;P I think I'm doing at least okay so far.
I want it to go kinda like this:
1. Practice writing
2. Get job as writer for Blizzard
3. Write story for BEST VIDEO GAME EVER.
I can always fall back on being an author, of course.
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted April 04, 2011 05:46 AM |
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Well, there's that too I guess...
Thing with Bizzard is, they sort f stopped making the new games and are focusing on making expansions for their old one (WoW)... SC2 was made because enough fans got really, really grumpy at them for not releasing it for a few years...
But they are still a good company to try out, since they gots moneys and they gots fans.
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 04, 2011 05:49 AM |
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Actually, they've been pulling people off WoW to work on Titan. That's the next-gen MMO that they're making atm. It's supposed to be unrelated to any previous franchise, from what I hear.
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted April 04, 2011 06:00 AM |
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Interesting... Well, here's what I have to say to that...
Great! That is excellent news for you! This means that they are probably going to keep cranking out new ideas and games for a while.
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 11, 2011 03:16 AM |
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After two weeks, Chapter 3 is now complete. Sorry it took so long and please enjoy.
Next chapter we'll be checking up on some of the other characters who appear in this story.
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted April 12, 2011 04:32 AM |
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Ooo? Like the clan lords?
Once again, a very well written chapter.
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted June 08, 2011 03:45 AM |
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Edited by KuzAnn at 03:53, 08 Jun 2011.
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Actually I wasn't planning to include them, but I might add a segment on them if I can fit it in.
As usual there may be a few errors which I will weed out as I re-read this section.
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Chapter 4: And Elsewhere...
Isabel let out a lengthy sigh and leaned against one of the apple trees in her personal orchard, the location of which allowed her a relatively clear view of the road leading up to her small manor. The trees had been enchanted by an elf druid who had stopped by for a visit once, causing them to bloom and bear fruit year-round at the cost of additional water and plant food. Petals from the tree that Isabel leaned against rained down around her as a falcon with dawn-colored plumage landed on one of its lower branches.
“Peach,” Isabel said, holding out a leather-gloved hand. The bird—one of a special breed known as the dawn falcon—jumped lightly from its perch and landed on Isabel's hand. “Did you find him?”
The falcon screeched and shook its head in reply. Dawn falcons were more intelligent than other birds due to the magic used by their breeders, it was one of their good traits along with the fact that they could find anyone that they had met. These qualities made them excellent messengers, and they were used extensively in the regions around the Free Cities. Peach had been a gift from Raelag during one of his visits, to help keep in touch.
Isabel fidgeted, subconsciously closing her fist around several of Peach's talons. She only realized what she was doing when the falcon's annoyed screeches met her ears. “Sorry,” she said, relaxing her hand. Isabel sighed as Peach readjusted her talons, “I wish I could send you to Zehir, but you've never met him before. I hope he's alright, thought he would be here by now.”
The dull thud of horse hooves on the firm loam of the orchard reached the pair, and Isabel turned towards the riders with an expression of mild annoyance on her face; she had told people countless times to keep their mounts out of her orchard. This had better be important, Isabel thought, her mouth drawn into a thin line of aggravation.
“My lady!” one of the riders—the guard captain from a nearby town—said as he jumped off his mount and gave her a hurried bow. “There's trouble. A dire bear is rampaging through Stonehill Village, we need your help to slay it!”
The lady knight's annoyance vanished instantly upon hearing the news, replaced by alarm and tension. “A dire bear. They're supposed to stay in the deep forest and mountains, why would one attack a village?” Isabel turned to her footman, who had just arrived with her own steed. “Thank you Stanley,” she said, mounting up after allowing Peach to take to the air. “What about my gear?”
“The packhorse is waiting by the stable. She's carrying your armor and a few different swords and lances, as well as your shield,” Stanley replied.
“You're a lifesaver, Stanley,” Isabel said, kicking her horse into a canter. The mild-mannered packhorse was waiting for the group at the stable entrance, with Isabel's gear strapped securely to her back to allow her to move quickly without losing any of her cargo. Once they reached the main road the riders moved up to a gallop, hoping to reach Stonehill Village as soon as possible.
A few minutes of hard riding brought the group within viewing distance of Stonehill, and Isabel immediately noticed the large amount of smoke that hovered in the sky above it. Dire bears were known for being massive and ridiculously strong, but she had never known them to do something like this. Soon the sounds of burning wood and panicked screams could be heard as the group drew even closer to their destination. Isabel stopped just outside the village and jumped off of her horse, waving for Peach to land on her shoulder before hurriedly unpacking her battle gear. “Peach, go find the bear and lead me to it once I'm ready. Try to get it out of the village if you can,” she said, pulling a thick leather shirt out of the bundle to wear under her breastplate.
Peach screeched in reply, telling Isabel that she understood, and shot up into the air. Isabel winced as the falcon's talons briefly dug into her shoulder, but continued to focus on getting her armor out and readying herself for battle. The small raptor soared quickly towards the center of the village, avoiding pillars of smoke that would interfere with her sight as she searched for the beast responsible for the destruction. One of the cottages exploded as she flew over it, startling her. The dire bear reared its massive head and roared in fury, spewing red-tinted spittle as it continued to destroy the house that it had gotten into. Apparently a local who had been slow to leave the house was now trapped beneath one of the bear's huge paws, and he screamed in terror as it prepared to maul him to death. Peach dove on the beast, screeching a shrill war cry as she landed on its face and dug her talons into one of the bear's eyes. The bear reared and pawed at its face with another loud roar, giving the man beneath it a chance to escape as it tried to dislodge its attacker.
After dodging a few of the bear's swipes, Peach disengaged and took to the air once again, circling the monster's location briefly before returning to her owner. Isabel was throwing on the last of her light plate as the falcon returned, calling a warning before veering to the right and darting away again. The dire bear's enraged howling could be heard from within the village as it followed Peach past the group; the beast had taken the attack quite personally.
Isabel's eyes widened in shock as the beast emerged from the village and barreled past; dire bears towered above even the largest normal bears, standing fifteen feet at the shoulder while on four legs and bulging with muscle. She hurriedly secured the last pieces of her armor and grabbed sword and shield, mounting her warhorse once again and galloping after the bear, hoping that she could get to it before it tired of chasing Peach and turned its fury on an unlucky bystander instead.
The dire bear barreled through the light scrub of the forest outskirts as it followed Peach, leaving a swath of crushed vegetation and terrified animals in its wake. Isabel's mount—a bold and spirited stallion called Warden—bucked in fear and tried to turn off the track of leveled greenery as they neared the beast, further proving that there was something very wrong with this particular dire bear. Normally Warden wouldn't flinch, even at an opponent of this size and ferocity, but this bear was different from their usual adversaries. As Isabel drew nearer she noticed that the fur coat of the beast was patchy, revealing not only skin, but also muscle and bone, meaning that the bear was somehow rotting away while it was still alive. Soon the horrible stench of death and decay reached her nose, and Isabel gagged slightly; obviously there was some foul necromantic magic at work here.
It was clear that sword and shield had been a poor choice for this phase of the battle, as the bear was outpacing even Warden at its current speed. She would have to immobilize it somehow before she could fight it with the sword, a lance would be the most effective weapon for that. The call of a soldier caught her attention, and Isabel glanced briefly behind her; the riders were trying to catch her, many carrying her weapons in case she needed them, including the lances that would be required to stop the bear. She strapped her sword and shield to her saddle and allowed Warden to ease off in speed until the foremost rider drew level with her. “I need a lance! Someone throw me a lance!” she yelled over the thunder their horses' hooves and the furious roars of the bear.
“Lady Isabel!” one of the riders behind the first moved up to her, carefully tossing the lance once he was close enough.
Isabel caught the lance and clipped it to a free strap on her saddle, allowing it to sit across her lap while she worked. She now guided Warden with her knees as she pulled a small mirror out of a belt pouch and began reflecting the light of the sun towards the small speck that was her falcon. “Come on Peach, see it!” she grunted.
As Isabel watched the speck that was Peach dipped noticeably and kept moving, meaning that the dawn falcon was now paying attention to her and awaiting orders. Isabel smiled grimly and held up her arms, her left curved in an arc while the right was held straight with the fingertips touching the left just below the wrist, directing Peach to lead the bear in an arc which would allow Isabel to intercept it with better force than what she could achieve by chasing it. Peach dipped again and changed course as Isabel gestured for the riders following her to fall back to a safer distance; the bear would likely start thrashing wildly once she had driven her lance into one of its leg joints.
Warden frothed and sweated with fear as Isabel angled him to intercept the bear, but he obeyed his mistress's commands and poured on speed, charging through the light brush and leaving his own flattened trail behind him. Isabel hastily unclipped the lance and lifted it into position, her hands remaining firm despite her excitement. Her heart pounded in her ears as Isabel neared her target; she would have to be precise in order to bring the bear down. At one point the tension in Warden's body reached a fever pitch, and Isabel worried that he would balk before she could get a clean shot; the horse would need to rest soon after so much running, so she wouldn't get another chance like this.
“Come on Warden! Just a little farther and you can leave, I promise!” Isabel called as she leaned forward over the horse's neck and took aim.
The sound of his mistress's voice seemed to relieve some of Warden's fear for the time being, and he panted heavily as he cleared the final stretch between them and the bear. With a loud cry Isabel thrust her lance as they drew close enough, burying the steel tip into the bear's right rear knee joint. The hard wood of the lance shattered as Isabel and Warden drew away, the stallion skidding to a halt and rearing in terror as the bear howled in pain and crashed, its momentum causing it to roll and slide before finally coming to a halt.
After getting Warden under control Isabel leaped from her saddle and grabbed her sword and shield, dashing for the bear as it struggled to rise and searched for this new attacker. It spotted Isabel with its good eye almost immediately, its other having been left a bloody ruin by Peach's attack. The monster bellowed angrily and swiped at Isabel with one massive paw, barely missing her as she skipped out of the way.
“Lady Isabel, fall back!” one of the riders called as they approached. “Let us weaken it from a distance first!”
Isabel glanced around, noticing the group of crossbowmen and archers that were approaching on horseback; she would only get in the way of their fire if she remained near their target. Quickly she maneuvered out of harm's way and fell in with the riders, one of whom had apprehended Warden and was now leading the stallion along with his mount. She sheathed her sword and slung her shield onto her back, soothing the massive warhorse as she watched the marksmen dismount and ready their weapons; staying on their horses would only risk ruining their aim if the beasts moved.
In its current condition the bear was an easy target, being unable to move after Isabel had damaged its leg so severely. Peach landed on Isabel's shoulder plate as the lead rider gave the order to fire. Dozens of arrows whistled through the air as they hurtled towards their target, striking the dire bear in its head and body. The beast howled angrily as most of the arrows bounced off of its thick hide and head.
“It's too tough, sir!” one of the marksmen called as they loosed another volley.
“I'm going back in,” Isabel said, offering her arm to Peach. “My greatsword, does anyone have it?” she called to the riders as Peach hopped onto her left arm.
“It's too dangerous,” the lead rider replied as one of his comrades handed Isabel the requested weapon. “It's as good as dead now, all we have to do is keep shooting.”
“I'll be fine. I don't enjoy the thought of just leaving it here to die slowly, and who knows what tricks it could pull if we leave it long enough? These creatures have much higher stamina and strength than any normal bear, it could very well charge us despite the injured leg,” Isabel said, releasing Peach to the air before briefly inspecting her blade. “If I can hit one of the large arteries in its neck the fight will be finished quickly and we can get on with finding out why this thing was here in the first place.”
The captain slumped in his saddle, his dismayed expression invisible behind his helmet visor; there would be no convincing Isabel otherwise, and she did have a point about the dire bear's remaining strength. “Very well. At least allow me to distract it while you move in for the final blow.”
“Peach will help you with that,” Isabel said, glancing at the falcon, who had alighted on Warden's saddle. Peach screeched quietly in acknowledgment and bobbed her head before taking to the air again and darting towards the bear. “Just stay out of its reach,” Isabel said as the captain accepted a bladed polearm from one of his men. “I don't want you to get hurt either. The people of this village still need you.”
The guard captain gave another short bow in reply. “Your concern is appreciated, Lady Isabel.”
Isabel nodded, “Let's get moving, Peach has already started.” She pointed at the bear, who was now furiously batting at the agile little falcon as she darted in and out of its reach. The two warriors separated, each moving to either side of the bear as it thrashed about in a growing puddle of its own blood.
“Oy beast!” the guard captain called from the bear's left side, swiping at one of its paws as it tried to hit Peach again. The bear snarled in reply and turned its good eye on him, slamming a paw into the ground in front of the captain but still unable to reach him. The man slashed at the paw, this time drawing blood and another wrath-filled roar from the bear.
On the bear's right side, unnoticed for the time being, Isabel moved into position and prepared to strike. Just before she could leap at it, the beast surged forward at the guard captain, charging in and knocking him over just as Isabel had warned that it could. The bear's teeth came dangerously near the man's head before Isabel charged in and buried the blade of her greatsword into the side of its neck.
With a gruesome gurgle the beast hesitated, spilling blood down the sword's blade and onto Isabel's hands and arms. She quickly abandoned the sword and hauled the guardsman to his feet before helping him to safety, with Peach hovering overhead, ready to distract the bear if it tried to attack them again. The dire bear moved sluggishly now, its paw scratching jerkily at its neck, trying to dislodge the blade. At the bear's movements the blade slipped out of the wound and fell to the ground, releasing the flow of blood that it had been holding back. The beast let out a long, gurgling sigh as the blood flowed unhindered, draining the last of its life.
Isabel turned and watched as the body stopped twitching, then moved back a little farther and let the guard captain sit in the long grass. “Anything broken?” she asked.
The guard captain tried to suppress a cough. “Cracked a few ribs I think,” he replied huskily as the medics arrived to tend to his injuries.
“Could have been worse,” Isabel said, reaching up to wipe the sweat off her brow with her hand and stopping when she remembered that it was covered in the dire bear's blood. She hurriedly pulled off her gauntlets and bracers, throwing them to the ground as she called to one of the riders, “Get some priests from the abbey nearby, we need cleansing spells done on everyone who came into contact with the bear. It's obviously diseased and we can't have it spread through the village.”
“Yes milady,” the rider replied, turning and kicking his horse into a gallop.
“The rest of you,” Isabel called, turning to the part of the group that wasn't occupied with tending to the guard captain. “Take a piece of the carcass and burn the rest. I have a bad feeling that there's necromancy involved with this, and we don't need this thing coming back to life on us.”
A worried murmur rose from the group as she said this, and they quickly set about clearing the brush around the corpse and gathering wood to set it alight. One man severed a claw from the bear's right paw and carefully brought it to Isabel, who directed him to a square of cloth that she had prepared for it. She sat on the grass, careful to hold her arms away from herself; she felt soiled from her contact with the beast, and she was sure that the feeling didn't come only from the fact that it had gotten her dirty. Isabel was sure that there was some foul magic at play here, and she didn't want to risk being further contaminated by it.
The group had set fire to the carcass and gathered most of the villagers who had been exposed to the disease by the time the priests arrived with the rider. One of them immediately walked over to Isabel while another approached the guard captain. “Stay still,” he said, holding the palms of his hands over Isabel's bloodied arms and muttering an incantation. The priest's holy magic burned the disease away, causing the blood to turn gray and fall from Isabel's arms like fine ash.
“Thank you,” Isabel said, rubbing her arms to get the last of the ash off. “We saved a piece to examine, perhaps find out exactly what the disease is,” she said, gesturing towards the severed claw.
The priest nodded. “We'll get to that once everything's clean.”
Isabel returned to her home to clean up and rest while the priests busied themselves with cleansing the village and its residents of any contamination that remained, ensuring that the disease would not spread through the surrounding area. She looked around hopefully as Warden trotted up to the manor, half expecting to find that Zehir had arrived while she was gone.
“No visitors while you were gone,” Stanley said from his chair by the front door as Isabel came within speaking distance.
Peach wobbled slightly on Isabel's shoulder as the lady knight slumped in disappointment.
“Get some rest. He'll arrive when he arrives, there's nothing we can do about it,” the footman said, nodding towards the house with his head.
“Right,” Isabel said quietly, dismounting and leading Warden to the stable by foot. She would allow the stable hands to care for him this time, as she was feeling drained and wanted to be ready in case the people Stonehill needed her again. There had been a time when she could lead several fights like the one earlier that day and not feel the least bit tired. “I must be getting rusty,” she mumbled in annoyance before asking one of her servants to prepare a bath; the priest's magical cleansing had removed the disease, but she still felt thoroughly soiled after the encounter with the bear.
Isabel let out a long sigh once she had lowered herself into the soap-clouded water of the bath, trying to relax and release the stress of the day. She wondered about the dire bear as she rubbed the dirt and sweat off of her skin, pondering whether its illness had been caused by a rogue necromancer or someone officially sanctioned by Heresh.
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted June 08, 2011 04:11 AM |
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The next chapter!  I'll read it soon... (Probably tomorrow, since it's late tonight and I have finals.)
This means that I have to work on my story now... 
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted June 08, 2011 04:15 AM |
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Haha, only work on your fic if you want to, gnomes.
And jeeze you're still not out for the summer yet? That's a bummer. :[
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted June 08, 2011 05:26 AM |
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I will be in two days... Or tomorrow when he weather burns down our school. 100 degrees F and 75% humidity is bad...
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted June 08, 2011 06:40 AM |
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Yay to the getting out of school soon, and boo to the weather! But then my hometown somehow forgets that it's supposed to be summer... It's been so cold lately.
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted June 12, 2011 09:51 PM |
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Ahhhh! So sorry, so sorry, so sorry! Been busy with RL stuff, got about 1/2 way through before my battery died, and then I had no wifi yesterday. 
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted June 13, 2011 08:32 AM |
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Jeeze that sucks! D: It's fixed now thought right?
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