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High Fantasy



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Mon Jan 05, 2015 2:21 am
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r4p17 says...



~Renalf~

Renalf marched, or rather rode, toward the rear of the Orc's column. They seemed to love moving at a tremendous pace and they never tired. Renalf managed to make a quick adjustment in the saddle without the Orc running beside him noticing. Every other time he tried to move the Orc rewarded him by shoving the butt of his spear into Renalf's back.

The company moved so swiftly that they were able to keep up Renalf's horse who was moving along at a slow trot. Renalf was constantly being bounce up an down so that he could hardly even observe the scenery around him. About all he gathered was that they seemed to pass through an number of Rivera and streams which nearly caused him to freeze.

After traveling for twelve hours without stopping more than thrice the Orcs came to a halt. Renalf hardly bothered to wonder why. He just hoped that they would get out of the rain that had plagued them sporadically for the past hour. The water had, by this time, frozen him to the bone. He would have wrapped his cloak around him, but it would have only made him feel worse.

Renalf contemplated using a spell to draw the water out, but that probably wouldn't go well the the Orcs who probably wanted him to feel miserable so that he wouldn't even think of trying to escape. He couldn't really blame them for that.

He dismounted and was shoved down to the ground by an Orc. He didn't really care. He was nearly numb from being constantly pelted with rain. Soon, he feared, he would catch pneumonia. The band soon began coming back with wood to start a fire, but he doubted they would get anything going.

The head of the band, the Goblin, strode past Renalf purposely stepping on his left hand which was sprawled out haphazardly. Renalf jerked it back in pain and gazed at the Goblin as he strode past haughtily toward the fire. He shouted a few angry, fiendish words in a language Renalf didn't understand. The Orcs seemed to quicken their pace and work harder. Soon a ring of logs was formed, creeping around the ring of stones designating where the fire was to be started.

After a while Renalf lost interest. The dull thudding of the Orcs going to and fro lulled him to sleep. He was soon dozing unconsciously. He was awakened in another hour by an Orc stopping to bend over him and give him a small piece of stale bread and a little bit of Orcish wine. Renalf abstained from the wine which he knew would make him hallucinate, and not in a very pleasant way either, but hungrily ate the bread after he was done eating he opened his mouth and let the rain pass through his parched lips.

For the remainder of the evening he slept feverishly. Renalf knew that he had to be coming down with something. He didn't care as long as he slept without molestation. Soon however he was forced to get up and ride the horse again. He didn't keep awake for long.

The next morning found him drowsily rubbing his eyes in the saddle. He was quite sore, especially in his thighs. He was obligated to drink some of the wine to help the pain. The rest of the day, or possible days (Renalf couldn't tell since everything was a blur), was a blur.

The next thing Renalf remembered was when the column came to a halt. His vision was blurred and he had a bad headache, but soon his eyes widened as he realized that they had company. A party of goblins, he couldn't tell how many strong, was just a few paces away. With them were three strange companions. The first, and largest was a dragonet. Next in side was a cloaked man. Finally there was a can who was just dismounting from the dragonet. It was the strangest thing Renalf had ever seen.

The man looked up as Renalf was forced to dismount and head toward the goblins. "My, my..." a familiar, smooth voice said, "Fancy meeting you here, Renalf." Oh no! Things just got much much worse! The man was none other than Oqrol the Crimson.
One writer with one imagination makes thousands of new worlds and stories." ~ Anonymous author





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Tue Jan 06, 2015 9:15 pm
NicoleBri says...



Annette Morris

I woke from whatever weakness had occurred to me. I sighed and noticed I couldn't move and that I was freezing. I looked around and noticed I was trapped in a pod. Dominic.

"Dominic!!!!" I yelled in hopes that he could actually hear me. I heard random noises but didn't know what was going on. I yelled once more but nothing. Then I heard someone talk,

"You should check on her."

By the sound of it, it was Kevin. I was relieved. "I'd know if she was suddenly awoke.." someone replied.

I heard foot steps and the pod finally opened. I jumped out in wolf form and felt relieved. I stretched and before I knew it something hit me in the arm. "They are here." someone said.

"What the hell? Please fill me in on what is going on." I tell them and start charging after the nearest intruder I see. Something didn't feel right.
Words are a lens to focus one's mind.



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Sun Jan 18, 2015 9:27 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



Diánterrus – Red and Blue


Oqrol’s gloating had continued for so long, Diánterrus considered using a Silencing Spell on him, but that would not end well, so he endured the torture instead, hoping the Wizard would eventually become tired of hearing his own voice. Unfortunately, he had acquired a horse from the orc and goblin party that had joined their battalion, so the journey wasn’t troubling him as much as it had.

“I hate to spoil your fun,” Diánterrus interrupted, causing Oqrol to shoot him an annoyed glance, “but pneumonia’s going to get to Renalf before you, if you leave him like that.”

Oqrol turned to look behind him, and the other Wizard was indeed slumped in his saddle, appearing to be unconscious. “Hmm, that would be a bother. Do you know any healing spells?”

“Nothing strong enough to cure him, but I might have a potion that could help.”

Oqrol looked up to the canopy, noting the fast descent of the sun. “Oi, Jack!” he called to the front. “Could we stop for today?”

The goblin chieftain ordered the troops to a halt and marched over to them, scowling as he did so. “I suppose you want to stop for the night,” he said more than asked impatiently.

“Gee, that’s the first consideration you’ve shown the whole way.”

Jack had ignored Oqrol though, for he was already shouting commands at the other goblins, who made camp within five minutes. However, they appeared to be just as annoyed with Oqrol as their chieftain, for they dumped the wood for the bonfire in front of him and left without a word.

I would offer to light it for you, Dresdan commented, but firebreathing is as of yet still beyond me.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t help stack the wood!”

“You wouldn’t ask the horses to help,” Diánterrus commented, building his tent, “so you can hardly expect Dresdan to help.”

“But he’s a dragonet, not a horse!”

“He served the same purpose, so you can treat him like one.”

Umm, thanks?

“I saved you from helping, so don’t complain.”

“Diánterrus, do you have a piece of flint and steel in that satchel of yours?” Oqrol asked as he finished building the stack.

“For the love of Lakadeema, you’re a Wizard!” Diánterrus dragged Renalf off his horse and into the tent. “Use a spell to start a fire.”

“Magic isn’t just some ability you can use whenever you want!” Oqrol replied exasperatedly. “Well, okay, you can use it whenever you want, but it comes at a cost: the more magic you use, the more energy it drains. It is not to be used lightly, much less for such trivial things as lighting a fire.”

Diánterrus sniffed in disdain. “Ignisae.” His amulet glowed and a flame appeared in the centre of the wood stack a second later.

“Don’t you suffer from attrition?” Oqrol asked, vexed.

“Do you think my amulet glows whenever I use a spell because I want to look pretty?” Diánterrus asked, sitting down.

The Wizard’s eyes widened. “You have a magical battery?” he asked, awed. “How do you recharge it?”

“It absorbs the magic of most spells directed at me, and being a bounty hunter, that’s quite often.”

“Does it have a limit?”

“Of course, but since I frequently use magic, there’s hardly a risk of overloading it. Besides, the amulet has a way of warning me before it reaches that point.”

You’ve got that right.

An annoying way, no less.

Oqrol seemed thoughtful, but then he asked suspiciously, “Why are you telling me this? If I had a reservoir for my magic, I would definitely not brag about it.”

“Firstly,” Diánterrus replied frostily, “it’s not bragging, since I merely answered a question, and secondly, you are under an oath not to sabotage my endeavours. Informing others of my amulet’s abilities would make me an even greater target than I already am, so I have no concerns about what you might say.”

Whatever Oqrol would have said in response had to remain in his thoughts, for Diánterrus rose and headed into the tent. The Wizard was in terrible condition, and while he was doomed to die anyway, he at least deserved to go out fighting, not like a withered old man. Diánterrus rummaged through his satchel until he found a vial containing a cerise liquid. The old man was asleep though, so Diánterrus produced some lavender and waved it over the Wizard’s nose. When that failed to have an effect, he lightly slapped him on the cheek until the old man’s eyes flitted open.

“W-who are you?”

“A bounty hunter on the trail of a target. Now sit up, you have to drink this.” Diánterrus shook the vial.

The Wizard eyed it suspiciously. “If you want to poison me, don’t bother: I’m already ill.”

“I know – that’s why I’m offering you medicine.”

“Oqrol wants to kill me anyway, so why go through all this trouble? You probably have another reason for keeping me alive.”

“This potion contains snapdragon root, nettle extract and crushed emberwing seeds, as well as essence of great mullein and spiritwort, so if you aren’t going to drink this, just say so; it would save me a lot of time and money preparing another one.”

The Wizard still looked sceptical, but he eventually sat up and opened his mouth, allowing Diánterrus to pour the vivid liquid into his mouth. “Thank you,” he said, lying down. “My name is Renalf, by the way.” Diánterrus recalled having heard Oqrol mention the name before, but frankly, he had forgotten it. “I appreciate the medicine, but you still haven’t said why you’re helping me.”

“You left Oqrol in quite the predicament back at Evincourt. I saved him and promised to help him find you. In return, he would help me track down my quarry.”

“Is that how you came to be with goblins?” Diánterrus could see the Wizard thought very little of the mentioned species.

“No, that story has its origin a bit earlier – with another Wizard, coincidentally. It seems you lot attract more trouble than anything else.”

“Is this Wizard the “quarry” you mentioned?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know Dominic.”

He’s your target?” Renalf asked, surprised.

“Indeed, though he doesn’t know he’s being hunted, of course. He’s quite the danger magnet; the dragonet outside is another of his enemies.”

Renalf uttered an impressed sound. “You managed to persuade a dragonet to join your cause? Wow. Although, it will probably eat you the first chance it gets.”

“We’re past that point already. But enough of him, tell me about Dominic. Last time I checked, you left Evincourt with him, yet the orcs only found you and that mercenary of yours. So, where is he?”

“Some cavern in the hills to the southeast of here. He and his friends were going to save a werewolf right before Roco and I slipped away.”

“Hmm, so they are in the Cursed City of Deela. I had thought as much. Well, Renalf, I know they are heading for Gzomrflt, assuming they escape the city, so that’s where we’re heading as well. Your fate will be decided there. Good night.”

Diánterrus muttered a sleeping spell over the Wizard and left the tent. He found Dresdan to be sleeping already, but Oqrol was still awake. He sat at the same place as before, but he was holding a vial whilst muttering some incantation or chant. When he finished, a crimson liquid appeared in it.

“What’s that?”

Oqrol started. “Oh, you’re back. This,” he said, raising the vial, “is liquid magic. Your amulet set me thinking: if we normal mages can only use a limited amount of magic, then how can we find a way of increasing our reserves without having to find or purchase a rare battery? I thought about it for a while, but shortly, an idea came to me. Well, a chant, actually.

“It took several attempts – several exhausting attempts, mind you – before I managed to distil my magic into a tangible form. I need only drink this, and instantly, my magical reserves will be restored, granting me the advantage in any battle. The only drawback of doing this is the chant immediately depletes your reserves, as is to be expected.”

“You don’t seem tired.”

“I actually feel quite drained. If I were to lie down now, I would be asleep within seconds.”

“We have one more day before we reach Gzomrflt, so you might as well get the rest.” Oqrol lied down, and sure enough, when Diánterrus reached fifteen, he was snoring as loudly as always. Unfortunately, he and Dresdan produced quite the cacophony.

If only the rest of you could sleep as well, eh?

“Oh, shut up!” Diánterrus said. He was about to voice the rest of his thoughts, but then an idea interrupted him. “Quetar.” The snoring ceased immediately.

Lakadeema be praised!
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

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Sat Jan 24, 2015 1:57 pm
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ThePatchworkPilgrims says...



Dominic

Tres Hroth!
Dominic paralyzed Anette as she was about to charge the three statues that stood a few feet away from her.
“Calm down, Anette,” Dominic said, walking over to her, “It’s only a few dwarven statues, nothing more.”
Anette, having shifted into wolf form, merely growled at Dominic.
“I’m going to change you back to human form, so be calm. I don’t want this to end nasty.”
“Neither do I,” Xander said from behind Dominic, “That is my body, after all.”
“What’re you going to do?” Kevin asked.
“Well, we could wait for the rage to wear off, but we don’t exactly have the time for that. Then there’s the option of placing a tungsten collar around her neck...”
“No!” Xander said, “Those collars only bottle the rage, which will make the next transformation worse and wilder.”
“I was getting there,” Dominic said, slightly irritated, “And we don’t have a tungsten collar in our possession, do we?
Xander mumbled something inaudible, but did not protest openly again.
“Don’t you have a spell or something of the sort to retransform her?” Sarris asked from beside Kevin.
“Yes, my dear Ollemcrat, I do. But I would ask of you all to stand back, because I will need to remove the paralyzing spell.”
As the other party members went to stand several yards away, Dominic readied his staff and stood in front of the still growling Anette.
“Hush you,” Dominic said, “I don’t speak Wolfish. Now, I am going to release you, but don’t get any ideas.”
Another growl.
Ope Juro!” Dominic shouted, removing the paralysation spell from Anette. She stood still for a few seconds before realizing she could move.
Just as she was about to lunge at Dominic, the wizard raised his staff and started chanting the retransformation incantation.
Kelio Nartonu Deela Giordo Eis! Kelio Nartonu Deela Giordo Eis!
A green aura started forming around Anette, distracting her from attacking Dominic, starting to slash at the air around her.
“It’s working!” Sarris shouted.
Kelio Nartonu Deela Giordo Eis! Kelio Nartonu Dis!
As Dominic uttered the last chant, the green aura blasted into Anette’s body, making her skid across the ground, crashing against one of the dwarvish statues.
“Anette!” Kevin, Sarris and Xander shouted, running over to where a dust cloud surrounded Anette.
“She’ll be fine,” Dominic said, walking up to stand beside Xander, “maybe a little dazed, perhaps unconscious, but she’ll be alright.”
At that moment, a groan came from Anette’s body, which had returned to human form.
“Anette, can you hear me?” Kevin asked as he crouched beside Anette.
“Wh-what happened?” Anette asked, pressing one of her hands to her forehead.
“You transformed into a wolf,” Sarris said, “but Dominic used magic to return you to human form.”
“I- I transformed into a wolf?”
“Yes,” Xander responded, “We switched bodies when Sarris teleported us to his location.”
“Oh, oh yes, now I remember. And we’re in where-you-me-call-it now?”
“Gzomriflt? Yes we are. Here, let us help you up.”
Xander and Dominic helped Anette upright as Kevin examined her body.
“She looks fine to me,” Kevin said after his examination.
“Just like I said she’d be,” Dominic said, looking pleased with himself.
“What type of spell was that exactly?’ Xander asked.
“It wasn’t a spell, but a chant. Chants are specific to the purpose they have to serve. In this case I returned a cursed beast back to its human form.”
“Wait a minute,” Kevin said, turning to look at Dominic, “If these chants are so powerful and specific, can’t you make a chant to return Xander and Anette to their own bodies and give Sarris his memory back?”
“My dear moomin, if I could I would. However, to return a being’s memory is a very delicate, complicated and dangerous process. One must literally weave the lost memories with magic before inserting it into the person’s mind, and seeing that we don’t know until where Sarris’ memory was removed, it can have rather dire consequences.”
“But you can return me to my own body, can’t you?” Xander asked, a desperate look in his eyes.
“That, Xander, is also a dangerous process.”
“But can you do it?” Anette asked, the same desperation in her eyes.
“I could try, but without the original chant that Sarris used, I won’t be able to make an effective counter-chant,” Dominic said, pacing up and down in the chamber where they were.
“Please, Domi...”
“Quiet! I’m trying to think here!”
They stood in silence for a long time, before Kevin and Sarris started kindling a small fire beside one of the statues, and there they sat, the only sound that of Dominic’s footfalls.

* * * * *

“I think I’ve got it!” Dominic exclaimed. The fire had burned down to mere embers, and the rest of the party had fallen asleep.
“What now?” Kevin asked, starting awake.
“I believe I’ve found a way to return Anette and Xander to their own bodies!”
“Anette, Xander, wake up! Dominic’s found a solution to your predicament!” Sarris said, yawning as he said it.
“I’m not certain if it will be successful, but one has to try.”
When all of Dominic’s party members were awake (almost), Dominic started to explain his plan.
“Have any of you ever heard of Lakedeema’s Lament?” He asked, a slight excitement visible in his eyes.
“I do believe that is part of the great Saga of the gods, is it not?” Xander asked.
“You’ve read the Saga?!” Dominic gasped.
“The old man who raised me read it to me once or twice.”
“Remarkable! So you recall the tale then?”
“If my memory serves me right, then the tale begins when the goddess Tylio switches the god Istar and her own consciousnesses while all the gods were sleeping. In the weeks that followed, Tylio wreaked havoc over all the realms.
Lakedeema, the wife of Istar, realised that this was the work of Tylio, but she had no proof to expose her. She thus set out to find her real husband, but I can’t recall the rest.”
“Don’t fret,” Dominic said, “most of the tale is irrelevant. The main part is that Lakedeema and her husband, still in Tylio’s body, trapped Tylio in a ring of purple flames. Utterly exhausted, Lakedeema started lamenting. Then, by her lamenting, Tylio’s spell was broken and she and Istar were returned to their own bodies.”
“Excuse me Dominic,” Sarris said, “But what does this tale have to do with Xander and Anette?”
“Everything,” Dominic said, “As the two of them are the real life Tylio and Istar. All we need to do is perform Lakedeema’s Lament.”
“Has it ever been done before?” Xander asked.
“I have never seen it done before, but I do believe we have the means to do it.”
“Dominic,” Kevin said, “Even if it were possible, it was done by a goddess, and I don’t see a goddess here with us.”
“No, but we have this,” Dominic took out the Star, “With this, my magical abilities, Sarris’ magical experience, and you...”
“Me?!” Kevin exclaimed.
“Yes, you. Moomins are known for their inherent affinity with Restoration magic, so all we need to do is channel that magic.”
“And the ring of fire with the purple flames?” Sarris asked.
“I gathered this in that chamber back at the Cursed City’s maze,” Dominic held up a pouch filled with nirnshroom, “Powdered nirnshroom burns with a large and bright purple flame when lit.”
“Is this going to be risky?” Anette asked.
“Of course! One, if it doesn’t work, we all might be poisoned by the nirnshroom’s fumes. Two, if it does work, you two might be killed or trapped in each other’s bodies forever.”
After a long silence, Xander spoke.
“Let’s do it,” he said, with sheer determination set on his face.
“Very well. Kevin, how fast are you with the mortar and pestle?” Dominic asked.
“I would like think I am fast,” Kevin said, “but unfortunately I don’t have either here with me.”
“No problem. Grindour Limotis.” And almost instantly a mortar and pestle materialized in front of Kevin.
“Here are the nirnshrooms,” Dominic handed the pouch to Kevin, who immediately started grinding the fungi.
“Now, Dominic said, walking over to Xander and Anette, “The two of you will have to be tied to each other.”
“What?!” both of the gasped.
“Just a fail-safe measure. With your hands tied, palm on palm, your souls and consciousnesses can pass more efficiently between bodies.”
“Very well,” Xander said, “I really hope this works, Dominic.”
“So do I. Now, please stand facing each other and the hold hands as I said. There we are. Please stand still.”
“Just get on with it!” Anette complained, clearly uncomfortable holding hands with Xander.
“You can’t rush magic!” Dominic snapped, “Vampires, honestly.”
“Hey!”
O-Hinara Mertir,” Dominic muttered, causing magical blue bonds to form around their hands, “How is the grinding progressing?”
“Almost done,” Kevin said, continuing to grind the nirnshrooms.
“Good. I’ll start preparing the other parts of the ritual so long.”
Dominic started to draw a large triangular formation around Xander and Anette, with three smaller circular formations at the corners of the triangle. He led Sarris to stand in one of these circles, with Sarris facing Anette and Xander.
Then, after ensuring that Sarris and Kevin knew the Lament, Dominic went and stood in one the other circles.
“I’m done grinding the nirnshrooms,” Kevin said, wiping his hands on his pants, “What should I do with it?”
“Slowly place the powder in a close circle around Anette and Xander. Then stand in the last circle facing them.”
After doing as Dominic instructed and going to stand in the circle, Kevin, Sarris and Dominic held their palms towards the two inside the triangle.
“Now, whatever happens,” Dominic said to Xander and Anette, “Do not speak or move out of that nirnshroom circle. Understand?”
“Yes,” they both answered.
“Good. Now, as soon the ritual begins,” Dominic said to the other two, “You don’t stop chanting until the flame ring stops burning.”
“Of course, Dominic,” Sarris replied, and Kevin nodded.
“Let us begin, then. Hilen Pirela Lakede Mortanis Weor Niat Ista!
As Sarris and Kevin repeated the chant, the nirnshroom ring ignited, creating a bright purple ring around Xander and Anette.
Hilen Pirela Lakede Mortanis Weor Niat Ista!” This time, the circular and triangular formations around the flame ring, as well as the bonds around Xander and Anette’s hands, started glowing white.
As the chanting continued, the glowing and the flames grew ever brighter, starting to engulf the entire chamber in a purple and white light.
Hilen Pirela Lakede Mortanis Weor Niat Ista!
Suddenly, the light reached a climax, before imploding in on Anette and Xander, leaving the room in darkness.
“Is everyone alright?” Dominic asked as their eyes adjusted to the sudden change in light.
“Yes,” Kevin called, “I’m alright.”
“Same here!” Sarris’ voice sounded, “How’s Anette and Xander?”
After a momentary silence, Anette spoke first.
“I couldn’t be better,” she said.
“It- it actually worked?!” Xander said, disbelief evident in his voice.
“It seems like it!” Kevin said. He and Sarris started cheering and hugging, much to Xander’s discomfort.
“Ok, ok,” he said, wrenching Sarris and Kevin off of him, “We might have a slight problem.”
“What do you mean, did something go wrong?” Dominic asked.
“No, but with my senses returned I’ve picked up that we have company.”
“Company? Where?” Dominic asked, looking around suspicious.
“Orcs. I smell their presence deeper into Gzomriflt,” Xander said, “And another, distinct smell coming from the other side.”
“What smell is that?”
“Giant.”
Former incarnations have been:
TheWanderingWizard
TheClockworkConjurer
TheIllusiveIntellect
TheSunderingSorceror
And, TheMaieuticMesmerist


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Fri Jan 30, 2015 1:17 am
r4p17 says...



~Renalf~

Renalf lay on the ground, the moon shining brightly above. The cold was becoming oppressive, but he uttered a spell quietly to warm himself. What was really bothering him was the snoring! The least Oqrol could do for him was allow a couple decent nights of sleep before killing him. Renalf sighed. He was no longer surprised by what was going on. Such was his fate in life. He would always suffer immense misfortune, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. His mind wandered back to where it all started with that dratted fellow YellowFeather! Some day he would deal with that man.

Suddenly the snoring stopped. Renalf looked up and saw Diánterrus prowling around. Perhaps he was the one who did it. He was friends with the Oqrol and the dragonet, after all. Renalf doubted any of the goblins had magical power. Of course, that wasn't meant to imply that they couldn't fight, or be extremely dangerous, though.

Turning over, Renalf breathed in the cool night air which refreshed him. He still wasn't sure whether the potion Diánterrus gave him was poisonous or not, but by now he would expect it to have taken effect.

Soon Renalf drifted off to sleep. He hardly even gave thought to the ground under him. He had been sleeping on it for so many nights in a row that he hardly noticed that it was any different than his own bed at home.

~~~

The next morning Renalf awoke to the noises of those nasty, despicable goblins. One of them, presumably the leader (though Renalf wasn't sure), was in a discussion with Diánterrus. How did a bounty hunter fall in with a group of goblins? That remained a mystery to Renalf.

Shortly, he was brought some food by Oqrol who spit in it before giving it to Renalf.

"You better eat that. I am not giving you any more."

"I guess I will have to sustain on your body after that, as much as I don't like the idea," Renalf quipped.

"You know Renalf, talking like that is only going to get you killed!" Oqrol said with a sneer.

"Oh? I wasn't aware. I thought you were already going to kill me. I suppose you are only returning the favor though. But remember, I left you alive. I hope you will only do the same to me."

"Oh, but that was your mistake. I won't let myself do the same. This way I can finally prove my worth. That I'm better than you!"

"You aren't a true wizard, Oqrol. You weren't chosen to the defend the world. You have chosen to destroy it. But in doing so... it destroys you. You are a sorcerer."

"If I were you I would keep my mouth shut. I was planning to let you burn, but now I think I will chose something that will... take longer."

"Good! All the more time for me to be rescued!"

"Rescued? Your petty friend Roco is sickly as are you. He is also in the hands of Orcs! He can't do anything to save you!" Renalf glared a Oqrol without saying a word. "Nothing to say, eh? Good. I've almost forgotten how sullen and pessimistic you are. The trouble is you are always wrong. You won't be this time though. Ironic isn't it?"

"No, what's ironic is that the last time we met, help came just in time." Oqrol looked as if he was going to say something, but Renalf cut him off. "Not that I needed help, but it did make my job easier."

"And yet you still couldn't manage to kill me?" Renalf made no response. I guess my point stands."

"We need to be on the move again," Diánterrus said in his feline voice. "I'm sorry to have to interupt such a serious discussion."

"Actually, Renalf here was being quite sarcastic." Oqrol commented. Renalf rolled his eyes at the jibe. "He can't even keep a straight face, much less keep his eyes straight."

"I could care less." Diánterrus turned around and walked up to the dragonet. And actually got on its back. Wait. Is he actually going to[i] ride [i]that? Renalf could hardly believe it. Then again, he had said that the dragonet had had plenty of chances to harm him, but had not yet done so.

Renalf sighed and walked over to his horse. He hauled himself up in the saddle and waited for the rest of the party to get ready.

"Perhaps I could ride your horse instead. I have come a long way on foot and I should greatly like to ride a horse for once."

Renalf wanted nothing more than draw Darowë and ram it into Oqrol's gut, but he know that wouldn't do. The wizard would probably do something to avoid being hurt and besides, there was Diánterrus riding on a dragonet.

Finally the party got underway. Renalf wasn't happy about having to walk especially with a group of goblins with to keep up with, but he had no choice. He focused on the ground, not paying too much attention to his surroundings, only staring at the muddy ground in front of him, the goblins feet seemed so soft and they hardly even made any imprints in the ground, despite the rain that began pouring down softening the soil and making it porous.

The dragonet on the other hand made gashes in the ground like a some great monster. It would be a monster soon. Renalf thought of how easy it would be for a beast of its size to overtake a party of goblins, despite the speed with which they moved.
One writer with one imagination makes thousands of new worlds and stories." ~ Anonymous author





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Mon Feb 02, 2015 9:34 pm
NicoleBri says...



Annette

My body and spirit were united as one. I couldn't have been more happier, my excitement got the best of me, and so did my sexual drive being that I hadn't had any sexual contact in weeks. I surprised myself and my lips met Dominics.

I instantly caught myself and pulled away, he wasn't someone I should even try to seduce.. I blushed and knew I had some searching to do..

"I'll catch up with you guys shortly. I need to do something." I said. I looked at Dominic once more and flew off into my bat form.

I sniffed my way through the area and noticed an odd smell, I perched, like a bird, on a branch and stared off, there were goblins and orcs, danger.

Before I could think, I flew back off to where my party were walking, I stood on the ground to turn back to my human form. "I think we will be headed for battle." I tell them. They all looked surprised and I had to tell them what I saw ahead of us.

"We should prepare." I told them.


Spoiler! :
@TheWanderingWizard I do indeed realize what Annette has done and you could possibly take it how you want it, haha. If you don't think it should be there then by all means just tell me. Lol.
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Tue Feb 24, 2015 7:43 pm
ThePatchworkPilgrims says...



Dominic

‘Well, then we had better get moving. Slowly.’
Dominic, Kevin, Sarris, Xander and Anette silently made their way through the hallways of Gzomriflt, with Anette and Xander leading the way (as they either knew the way or could smell any hostiles). Tall dwarven statues lined the walls, with many tunnels leading off the main hallway, black spaces to either side of the party.
They occasionally felt rubble falling from the ceiling, most likely loosened by a consistent boom which came out of the distance, growing ever so louder as the moved along the hallway. The hallway in front of intersected with another long tunnel after a while, and Anette led the down this intersecting road. It was wider and higher the previous hallway, and had a slight upwards slope, leading them closer to the boom
They continued for two more minutes, when Xander suddenly held up his one hand. He quickly led them into one of the smaller passages, no more than an oxcart wide, where they crouched in the darkness.
‘Patrol,’ Xander whispered as heavy footfalls echoed passed them, ‘I smell four orcs, and a Jinopel.’
At that moment, a shrill, screeching voice ran through the hallways. ‘I didn’t do it!’ the voice screeched, ‘Master told me to get the goat flesh for him!
‘Then why didn’t he confirm your story?’ a deep, harsh voice growled.
Ulir would not lie! Ulir would not lie!
‘Shut up!’ the harsh voice said as the orc patrol passed Dominic and the party’s hideout, dragging behind them the struggling Jinopel called Ulir.
‘Dominic,’ Sarris whispered, ‘Do something!’
Reluctantly, Dominic edged to the side of the hideout, to get a clear view of the now still standing orc patrol.
Please do not hurt Ulir!’ the Jinopel was pleading at the patrol captain’s feet, ‘Ulir will be a good slave!’
‘I told you, to shut up!’ the captain growled, drawing his mace and preparing to swing.
Odylla,’ Dominic whispered, stupefying the orc patrol, and before they could respond, he stepped out and directed an Ostinanza at them, turning all four of the orcs into ugly-looking mudfish, would flopped around on the dwarven floors.
‘I never liked orcs anyway,’ Dominic said, gesturing for the other to exit, ‘Can’t stand the smell that surrounds them.’
‘It makes them easy to track,’ Xander remarked as they walked over to Ulir.
Do not hurt us, shadow lurkers!’ Ulir screeched, yanking desperately at the heavy chain with which he was bound.
‘We won’t hurt you, Ulir,’ Kevin said, crouching down to inspect him for any wounds, ‘I can’t get this chain off.’
Dominic looked Ulir in the eye. ‘If I release you, will you promise not to run?’ he asked.
Ulir looked around at everyone who was staring down at him, before swallowing and replying with a terrified note in his voice, ‘Ulir will not run. Ulir promises.’
Laceratus,’ Dominic said, pointing his staff at the chain, making all the links break apart. Ulir lifted his small hands up to his face, and in the light of Dominic’s conjured lantern (held by Sarris), his eyes almost looked aubergine in colour.
Mage elf and his companions freed Ulir? Does that mean Ulir is not in service of false Master anymore?
‘Who is this “master” of yours, Ulir?’ Dominic asked.
Ulir serves the Master Warchief Furlog the One-Hand, but Ulir has another, real, Master.
‘And who is that?’
Ulir’s real Mistress is a Fae Ulir met outside of the Fort, Mistress Caioliss. Ulir was getting food and information for Mistress when Ulir was caught.
‘Why is she outside Gzomriflt, Ulir?’ Sarris asked.
Mistress not say. But Ulir believes Mistress is waiting for fight in the Fort.
‘Is she planning on fighting the orcs?!’ Dominic asked, astounded.
Not alone, Ulir believes. Mistress told Ulir about a dwarfman and a man warrior who she met on the travels, and that they are planning to enter the Fort to find something.
‘Jorgen and Kollek!’ Anette said, ‘They must be nearing Gzomriflt by now, and it sounds like they have a fae with them!’
‘Quiet down, Anette,’ Dominic said, ‘You’ll alert the other orcs. Ulir, go and tell your fae mistress that she will receive the fight she is looking for soon enough.’
‘Thank you, Mage elf. Ulir will go to Mistress right away!’ And with that, Ulir disappeared in a small whirl of smoke the colour of his eyes.
‘So, are we going to attack the orcs, then?’ Xander asked as they rose.
‘Well, Deela’s cursed Priestess will most likely send more minions after us, so why don’t we decide the playing field on which we’ll face them.’
‘By going up against an outpost of orcs?
‘Yes. Orcs despise Deela’s servants, so they might end up fighting each other then, and then we can search for the Quill and the hidden knowledge.’
‘Let’s not waste any time, then.’
And with that, Dominic and his party stealthily continued down the passage towards the orcish outpost...

Spoiler! :
@NicoleBri, I didn’tmention the kiss on purpose, as I have something interesting planned for that little occurrence.
@QueenAnne, your character has now been made unstuck.
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TheSunderingSorceror
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Wed Feb 25, 2015 8:58 pm
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TheCrimsonLady says...



-Caioliss

I bit at my nails anxiously as I stared at the ruins beneath me. Where had Uril gone? I hadn't seen the tiny creature for nearly two days, and I had no way of knowing what had happened to him, or even where he was. Muttering curses at the world, I sat down. My headache was getting steadily worse- I assumed it was a side effect of my impending madness. I had gone over Maeve's wording almost nonstop for the past three days, trying to find a loophole, but none existed. All it had served to do was worsen my mental state. My thinking was still mostly lucid, and my magic was stronger than ever.

A little figure appeared a few feet away from me, and I smiled. I had kept people from discovering me, but Uril had become my constant companion after stumbling upon me.

He bowed low. "Mistress, I come with news!"

I sat up eagerly. "What is it? And where have you been? You told me two days ago that you'd be back in an hour!"

Uril squeaked, "The orcs in the castle captured me, Mistress Caioliss. A wizard freed me from them and told me to tell you that the fight had started."

I frowned. "Uril, how did he know I was here?" My mind was racing. Was this on of Maeve's plots, to draw me out?

Guiltily, he said, "I told them you were here, Mistress."

I let out a sigh. "I told you not to tell anyone about me, Uril."

"Oh, well. I suppose I'll have to at least try to go get the Quill, then." I leave my pack and put my daggers in my belt. I take off my cloak, too and turn to Uril. "I need you to find Jorgen and Kollek. Keep them from getting to the fortress. Do whatever you must. Just make sure that they don't get there." He bowed and disappeared.

Summoning the wind, I let myself float a few inches above the grass and take off running, at fey speed. As my feet hit the air, I laughed. This would likely be my last. When I neared the fortress, I let the wind drop, and I hit the ground in a perfect roll. Observing the orc guards, I cloaked myself to look like one of them. No one questioned me as I walked past throngs, except for one of the orcs that growled at me when I got too close. The scent of a wizard and a hint of a vampire came to me in the wind, and I walked in the direction it was coming from after letting the glamour drop. As I walk, I noticed that my headache was gone.

Suddenly, I caught sight of the vampire in the corridor. I melted into the shadows and scurry forward. The rest of the group emerged from the floor. I followed them in the shadows, wondering what they were trying to do.
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Sat Apr 11, 2015 9:05 pm
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ThePatchworkPilgrims says...



Jorgen

“How much longer do you want to wait?!”
Jorgen turned to face Kollek where they were hiding behind a large pile of rocks. In front of them, the massive entrance to Gzomriflt, trails of smoke rising from where the orc guard kept warm.
“Patience, Kollek,” Jorgen said, “We can’t just go charging into every battle without a plan. You still remember the incident with the frost trolls?”
Kollek sat back against the rocks. “But this never-ending waiting is slowly driving me insane.”
“Me as well. But the two of us can’t hope to breach a orcish fort by ourselves. We’d be killed before even reached the gates.”
A loud groaning sound echoed off the mountainsides, the origin of which was the Gzomriflt main gate.
“They’re moving!” Kollek whispered as the both took cover behind the rocks.
After the silence continued for several minutes, Kollek dared a peak over their hiding spot.
“Why are they just leaving it open?” he asked, confusion in his voice.
“Nobody knows of their presence here, most likely,” Jorgen said, also peaking over the barricade, “thus I believe they think it is safe to leave their gates open once in a while. A dwarven citadel can get quite uncomfortable inside if it stayed close.”
“We should strike now while they’re unsuspecting of an attack.”
At that moment, a piercing pressure was applied on both Kollek and Jorgen’s necks at the back. As Jorgen tried to reach for his sword, he heard the sound of arrows being drawn.
“Turn around. Slowly,” a human voice behind them said.
“And why should we do that when you’ve got blades against our necks?” Kollek asked.
“Because I will order my men to kill you if you don’t.”
Kollek looked at Jorgen, who nodded before lifting up his hands and turning around. In front of them were two halberd-wielding guards (which were the points against their necks), a few more melee soldiers, and six archers. There were also what looked like a healer, two priestly mages (all wearing the robes of Obad-Hai), as well as an authoritive looking soldier.
“Who are you?” this authoritive person asked.
“Why don’t you introduce yourself first?” Jorgen retorted.
“I’ll ask the questions,” the leader said as the halberdiers applied more pressure, “I ask again: Who are you?”
“Alright, alright, feisty much. I am Jorgen Holdt the Bull rider, and this is my companion, Kollek Kollarsson, the Bearer of Sorrows.”
“Jorgen and Kollek? And what are you two doing out here, watching Gzomriflt?”
“No, our turn to ask a question.”
“Very well, what do you want to know?”
“Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“Two questions in one, but I shall answer both. I am Gamleor, and these men around me are some priests of Obad-Hai who were willing to aid me in finding my dear friend, Renalf.”
“And you’ve come to Gzomriflt to find him?”
“I believe it is my turn to ask a question, but yes, I have reason to believe Goblins are bringing him here. N
ow please inform me as to what you are doing here?”
“I’ve come to reclaim something which rightfully belongs to the Dwarves. The Quill of Fazad-Brilf,” Kollek answered.
“Well, then it seems our objectives don’t clash. How were you planning on attacking the fortress without any reasonable force behind you?”
“The orcs just opened the gates, actually. They have no idea we were about to strike until you came along.”
Gamleor stayed silent for a few moments, turning around to talk with the two mage-priests behind him.
“I believe we can help each other,” Gamleor said when he turned around again.
‘And how’s that?” Jorgen asked.
“You will attack beside us. That way you have an extra bit of force to help you find this Quill, and maybe you’d be able to assist us in finding Renalf.”
Kollek turned to Jorgen and whispered in his ear. “I don’t trust this one,” he said.
“Neither do I,” Jorgen replied, “but he has a point, you know. We need their help if only to get inside.”
“Fine, but if this turns out for the worse I’m blaming you.”
Kollek sat back as Jorgen turned to face Gamleor and his men again.
“We accept your proposal,” he said, “as a servant of Obad-Hai myself, I wouldn’t want to deny his other servants their first taste of blood.”
“Then it’s settled. You may remove your pikes now.”

*

After having sat down and sating their appetites, Gamleor, Kollek and Jorgen started planning their assault.
“Well, my guess is there’s more or less five hundred to a thousand fighting orcs in there,” Kollek said, looking over at the still open gates.
“We won’t be able to just charge straight towards the Citadel,” Jorgen said, “The main road and several yards from it is a flat, barren stretch of land. They’d see us coming for miles.”
“What about those rock formations over there?” Gamleor asked, pointing towards a odd scattering of rocks to the west of the road, which almost led up to entrance of the Citadel.
“It will be tough going,” Kollek said, “but it’s better than nothing.”
“Once inside, we’ll need to locate their main supply of flour and fat, and quickly to,” Jorgen said.
“Flour and fat?” Gamleor looked confused.
“Yes. Fat burns extremely hot and just as long, and the flour will create a large explosion.”
“But what if they store their supplies on the far side of their base?”
“They we fight like Guel-ma-Veer’s bloodhounds, and hope to survive for longer than a few minutes.”
The small force made their way through the rock formations, which took al lot of time. Jorgen continuously kept his eye on the Fort, to see if there was any movement, yet it had fallen completely silent.
“I do not like this,” he said.
“Oh, now you don’t like it!” Kollek said, “After you said it’d be fine.”
“Keep your voice down!” Gamleor whispered irritated, “We close enough that they can hear us now.”
One of the archers came to Gamleor side.
“The rocks end up ahead,” he said, pointing.
“Make ready to charge,” Gamleor said, and the archer hurried off to notify the rest, ‘Are the two of you ready?”
“I have been ready for the past two months,” Kollek said, putting on his helmet and drawing his axe.
They waited for five more minutes, just to look for any movement, before Gamleor decided it was time.
“Charge!” he shouted, and they all started running at the entrance.
The orc guards posted outside had barely enough time to blink before the first arrows sent them sprawling on the ground. From the battlements up to came a shout, yet the troops were already just outside of their view, and thus range.
More guards came flooding out of the gates as a horn sounded from the battlements. Kollek, Jorgen and Gamleor led the assault on the guards, hacking and slicing at the poorly armoured troops, slowly forcing their way in through the great lead doors and into the hive of the orcs.
The inside was nothing like Jorgen expected. It was orderly, to the point of perfection, and if he hadn’t known, he wouldn’t have guessed that this was an orcish Citadel. Yet, with the order of the fortress came another surprise. The orcs started forming a great entity deeper into the fortress, all sneering and daring the warrior priests to come closer.
Jorgen looked around, and saw that all of the priests, Gamleor, him and Kollek had penetrated several yards into the fortress, and that the gates were being closed behind them. He now knew why the orcs looked so self-confident.
The y had ran straight into a trap, and the orcs were advancing...

* * * *
Dominic

Dominic’s attention was drawn by a commotion from the entrance gate. He and his companions had been planning their plan to sneak passed the orcs undetected when it had started.
There, standing strong against the flood orcs, was a party of human soldiers. Leading this party, Dominic saw the two warriors who had left their party before their entrance of the Cursed City.
“By Crulienne’s Threads,” Dominic whispered, “How on earth did those two get here, and with a band of soldiers.”
“Those aren’t soldiers,” Xander said, looking passed one of the pillars beside their position.
“What do you mean? They’re wielding weapons?”
“Yes. But those are priests and guards from the Temple of Obad-Hai. I have seen them before.”
A loud creaking sound came from the entrance, and Dominic saw the gates close behind the priests, trapping them inside.
“They’re going to get killed!” Anette whispered, and made to run down the steps and help them.
“Have you lost your mind?!” Dominic whispered, grabbing Anette by the arm.
“But we can’t just let them get slaughtered by those orcs!”
“And we won’t,” Dominic said.
“Dominic’s right,” Xander said, “We can’t go storming in there without a plan. We’ll get slaughtered as well like that.”
“But...”
“No, Anette. We need a plan.”
Dominic started drawing a rough map in the dirt beside the pillar, making marks where the different tunnels, entrances and forces were.
“Okay, so here are we,” he said, pointing with the end of his staff, “More or less twenty to thirty yards from the nearest orc. We’re also at a higher vantage point, which is why we can see this party over here at the entrance.”
“Yes, yes,” Sarris said, “That much all of us know. Please inform us of your plan.”
Dominic looked at Sarris before continuing his explanation. “As I was saying, we’re at a higher vantage point, and I intend to use that advantage.”
“How?” Xander asked, “We have no ranged weapons.”
“Ah, but that is where you are mistaken,” Dominic said, pulling out of his sack two halves of an elvish bow.
“A broken bow?!” Kevin said, crouching closer to the group.
“Yes, my friends,” Dominic said, grinning, “a broken bow.”
“But what are we supposed to do with that?” Sarris asked, looking confused.
“This,” with a gesture of his hand and muttering the spell Anaparis, the bow started repairing itself. The two halves, which had broken exactly in the middle, started mending the break, and the string magically fixed itself and drew taut again. Where there once lay two halves of a bow, now laid a brand-new bow, without even the slightest hint that it ever was broken.
“By Ethenis,” Xander muttered, “I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it myself.”
“Magical can do many wondrous things,” Dominic said, picking up the bow and laying it beside him, “Now, back to the plan.”
The sound of orcs screaming roared up from the entrance.
“They’re moving Dominic!” Anette whispered urgently, making to charge again.
“Okay, okay! I shall, enlighten the orcs on the errors of their ways from up here,” Dominic spoke quickly, “Then, while they are blinded and confused, Anette and Xander can charge into the orc ranks and attack as they know best, with speed and strength.”
“What about me and Kevin?” Sarris asked.
“Do you still know how to use your wand?” Dominic asked.
“I can remember a sleeping spell,” Sarris said, “and a minor shield spell and confusing spell.”
Dominic was silent for a while, before drawing his two daggers and handing one to Kevin and the other to Sarris. “Here,” he said, “Your elementary memory of spells can still come in handy, but you will need this as well. You two can protect my flanks when we too descend into the battle.”
Kevin swallowed frightened. “Do I really have to? I mean, I could try and...”
“No, Kevin,” Dominic said, raising with the bow in one hand, “You willing joined this party, and you are my responsibility. I cannot risk having you go off on your own. You might get caught or killed.”
“But...”
“Kevin, it has been decided. You and Sarris will stay with me.”
“Dominic, how will we know when to return to you?” Xander asked, also rising.
“I shall send a blue spark into the air. Then, you’ll know our location and when to return.”
With that, Dominic stood ready and took aim with the bow, drawing the string even though there was no arrow.
“Dominic?” Anette asked, “Where’s the arrows?”
Boerilo Ragida,” Dominic said, and a magical quiver filled with arrows appeared on Dominic’s back. A arrow also appeared where Dominic was drawing the bow.
“What de...” Kevin said, his mouth gaping open.
Armar Lantarana,” Dominic shouted, releasing the first arrow. While the arrow flew through the air, a bright blast of light started coming from it, which then exploded when it hit one of the orcish huts.
The orcs shouted, many of them blinded by the sudden bright light.
Armarignidre!” Dominic shouted, releasing another arrow, which this time caught fire and created a fiery explosion where it hit in a battalion of orcs.
“Go Xander! Go Anette!” Dominic shouted, drawing another arrow, “I have eight more arrows, then these two and me are joining the melee! Armar Lantarana!
Anette and Xander, who had transformed into a wolf, charged down the stairs and into the orcish ranks. Somewhere close to the entrance, Jorgen, Kollek and the Obad-Hai warriors starting attacking the confused orcs.
The War of the gods had begun...

Spoiler! :
@NicoleBri or @AstralHunter, you're up next, followed by @QueenAnne and @r4p17. Then it is @TakeThatYouFiend with the ending of his character's life.
Also, @AstralHunter, I did include your challenge. Dominic is starting to overcome his enemies the orcs. The next group he'll overcome is naturally Dresdan and the Priestess.
Former incarnations have been:
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TheClockworkConjurer
TheIllusiveIntellect
TheSunderingSorceror
And, TheMaieuticMesmerist


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Mon Apr 13, 2015 8:09 pm
NicoleBri says...



Annette

I ran full force, Xander and I did, wow it was a rush. My half vampire form began to show; when I was angry I was quite the beast. That is saying it nicely.

I clawed the orcs eyes out and cut them in half.

All this anger and rage just soared through me, I looked over at Xander who had switched to his wolf form, he was full of blood.

Blood.

I felt as if my body was surging and out of nowhere, I feel my fangs attach to the tender feeling of flesh. It was amazing. Quickly I killed as many as I could.

I'm feeling weak my body is losing at this point. I get slashed on the arm from a knife and my skin immediately re attaches itself.

"She needs help." I heard one of the others in my group say. It felt like I was some what helpless these past few days. Instead of giving up..

I keep going until there are only a few orcs left.

My energy is racing and before I know it, everyone is down.

Now comes the hard part.
Words are a lens to focus one's mind.



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Sat Jun 27, 2015 3:23 pm
BrumalHunter says...



Diánterrus – Not much of a welcoming…


As soon as dawn broke, Jack had the battalion marching again. Diánterrus and Dresdan had been fine with that, but the Wizards were not and sleepily made their opinions heard. Needless to say, Diánterrus found it increasingly difficult to perceive Wizards as superior mages.

His perception of goblins, on the other hand, had improved. They were certainly as disciplined, and he daresay more robust, as human troops, and though their manners left a lot to be desired, they were fairly decent in their treatment of other races. However, when they reached the fortress – which was technically orcish, but the goblins partly ran it – Diánterrus was a little disappointed: the doors were closed, even though Jack had said the orcs would be expecting them.

“What’s going on here?” Diánterrus asked, having ordered Dresdan to the front.

“I’d like to know the answer to that question myself.” Jack barked an order at the goblin beside him, who then produced a horn and handed it to him. Jack blew on it, deafening Diánterrus in the process, but to no effect. “See what’s going on!” he ordered.

Some goblins ran up to the gate and hammered on the doors, trying to get the attention of any guards, but they received no response. Others scouted the area, sensing a snake in the grass. When said scouts returned to Jack, a look of alarm on their faces, Diánterrus suspected they had sensed correctly.

After speaking to the scouts, Jack turned to Diánterrus and said, “The corpses of the guards were found hidden behind the rocks up front. We think your opponents had entered through the open doors.”

“Well, can we open them, or do we have to wait until the orcs decide to check for reinforcements?”

“Unless you blow down the doors, we’ll have to wait.”

“You forget, I can actually arrange that.”

Diánterrus dismounted Dresdan, strolled over to the doors and, with a simple, two-word incantation, blew them off their hinges. He stepped inside, expecting an abandoned vestibule, but finding a room full of bodies instead.

“I’d say your suspicions are well-founded!” Diánterrus called back at the goblins.

Jack barked another command, to which the goblins assumed their battle formations and began marching forwards. He joined Diánterrus inside, followed shortly by Dresdan and Oqrol.

“I have fulfilled all of my obligations, have I not?” Jack asked Diánterrus.

“You have. May your reinforcements prove to be decisive and earn you much glory, for this is where we part ways.”

Jack nodded. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I hope our paths never cross again.” As he said that, he looked at Dresdan and Oqrol as well. He then turned around and joined his officers.

“Won’t be missing him,” Oqrol remarked. He then surveyed all the corpses around him. “Did the people you’re after really do all this?”

“Apparently. No doubt they found assistance along the way.”

“Ah, but we still have the advantage of surprise.”

“You plan on participating in the battle?”

“Perhaps, but I want to kill Renalf first.”

“It seems you’ll kill both birds with the same fireball,” Diánterrus commented, chuckling. “There he goes.”

Oqrol turned around to see Renalf galloping past the goblins. The old Wizard may have been close to Death’s door, but he seemed to have gathered his wits, since he didn’t attack the goblins, and having escorted him to the fortress, they didn’t consider him a threat.

“Damn! Well, can we call it quits?”

“The spells you have taught me this morning and on the way will prove to be most useful in this battle and in future, so yes, you may consider our arrangement terminated.”

“Excellent! I hope you find your man – err, Ollemcrat – in there.”

“Ditto. Farewell, Oqrol.”

“See you!” The Wizard flashed a devilish grin and jumped onto his horse just outside the doors. Galloping inside, he called, “Into the fray I go!”

“Well, Dresdan, that leaves just you. Isn’t this turning out to be quite the farewell?”

I never was one for teary goodbyes. How about we kill and capture who we came for and then maybe I’ll track you down some day?

“As long as you don’t try to eat me, I’ll look forward to that day.” Diánterrus smiled, but he turned serious directly thereafter. “I’ve grown fond of you, Dresdan. Try not to die today.”

Me? You forget, I’m ten times your size and I’ve picked up some weight since eating those oxen. Dominic is in for the surprise of his life!

Drawing his rapier, Diánterrus muttered a spell of fire-resistance over both himself and Dresdan. With a wink, he said, “Then let us enter the fray as well!”
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

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Mon Jun 29, 2015 3:15 pm
TheCrimsonLady says...



-Caioliss-

As I watch the vampire and her group, an orc rushes past me, nearly slicing my head off with his spear. Wondering what the commotion is about, I slip from shadow to shadow, back to the entrance. A small army marches through the gates, fighting for their lives. In the chaos, I catch a glimpse of Jorgen and Kollek. Cursing, I run away. If Kollek found the Quill today, I would be forced to kill him. Unfortunately, as soon as I get out of eyesight, my head feels like it's splitting open. Words start sounding like jibberish and I fall to my knees, screaming. Slowly, I drag myself closer to Jorgen and Kollek, and the pain fades. Everything returns to normal. Cursing my fate, I resign myself to following them. Perhaps... at the last moment, I could run away.

Half an hour later, a puff of dust goes up into the air, along with a huge explosion of flour. Jorgen and Kollek run for the center of the castle, most likely where the Quill is being kept. I run after them, still forcing myself to keep to the shadows. The citadel is crumbling, slowly. I see a wizard battling an orc, pressed up against the wall, gasping for air. I send the wind out to look for the Quill, but apparently, Kollek can sense it, so there is no need. Hiding from the world, I wait for them to find it, not sure what I'll do. A muttered discussion fills the room we're in.

"Kollek, Caioliss sent that being to keep us from finding the Quill. She said she'd have to kill you if you found it." He sounds exasperated. "Do you really think it's worth it? I understand that the Quill is an artifact, but-"

"If ye had complaints, ye should've told me before we fought our way through that mob of orcs. Besides, what could she do? We could take her, don't ya think?"

Without waiting for Jorgen's affirmation, Kollek grabs the Quill. My vision narrows onto Kollek, and suddenly, all I want is his blood pouring over my fingers as I take the Quill. My lips twist into a savage snarl, and I launch myself out from my hiding place, staff and daggers at the ready. I use the wind to keep the off balance, but their iron takes my strength, and even with the extra power that seems to be filling me, it's hard for me to land a single strike. I let my melee fighting go on autopilot and concentrate on the wind. Slowly, I make a cocoon of wind around Jorgen and wait for the right moment to pull it tight. Just then, an orc rushes into the room, and Jorgen takes a split second to look at the disturbance behind him. I let the cocoon crush him and sweep him into the opposite wall with a gust of wind. Hissing, I let a small tornado whip around Kollek. Some unseen power seems to fill me, and I find that I can do more with my magic than ever before. I pull the very breath out from Kollek's lungs, and when he is at his weakest, I leap on to him and place the dagger at his throat.

Still, somewhere in the back of my mind, I don't want to kill him. As I press the dagger in, a small drop of blood wells and trickles down to the floor. I hear Jorgen yell to me, telling me not to kill Kollek, and suddenly, it feels as though I'm wading through molasses. My head starts to hurt again. What am I doing? I can't, not this- what? I shake my head, hoping to clear my mind. I cannot kill Kollek. I cannot kill Kollek. I repeat that thought, over and over, until I stand up and take a step away. I look at the chaos and destruction I've created. Kollek gets to his feet, however slowly. I take another step back, and then another. And another. I turn and run, wanting to get as far away as possible, but I crash into somebody before I can get anywhere. Killian grabs my arms and keeps me there, no matter how hard I struggle. Fifteen of his fighters are behind him, and behind them, Queen Maeve herself is glaring daggers at me.

"You must kill him, Caioliss. There is no getting out of this." Please, Cai, do it. Don't make me do this. I stop breathing.

Have I gone mad? How am I hearing this voice?

I look at Killian, and the pieces click together. Killian, can you hear me? I picture pushing the words into his mind, and his eyes pop open,

Cai?

Yes. How are we doing this?

It must be because you're so close to being queen. Maeve and I can speak to each other like this too. Please, Cai, you have to. Otherwise, she'll make me make you. You're my best friend. I don't want to have to do that to you.

So you're still sworn to her? No loopholes? I can't do this. Kollek is my friend!

Cai, I can't not be sworn to her, not unless a new queen ascends. Please, Cai, you've got to.

Slowly, I shake my head, and my eyes fill with tears. "I'm sorry, but I cannot. Please release me, and I shall be on my way." Briefly, I wonder why I'm not screaming with pain.

Killian avoids my gaze before replying. "I'm afraid I cannot do tha-"

Maeve cuts him off and strides through the men. "Enough with this. Captain Wyrnson, if the princess heir does not complete her task in the next half an hour, slit your throat."

Her expression doesn't change a bit. She's planned to do this, and she'll do so much more if I don't obey. And now... what can I do?
Let the blood pour down in rivers as the world burns.





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BrumalHunter says...



Three Tales Conclude: Part One – Oqrol


After leaving Diánterrus and the dragonet behind, Oqrol joined the fray. The goblins, recognised him, moved out of the way, but those who got in his way – goblin, orc and human priest alike – were trampled. Oqrol didn’t care, for he had only one objective, and he would not be satisfied until that objective was met.

He scanned the sea of soldiers for the old Wizard, but he was nowhere to be seen. Oqrol cursed and looked again, but again, nothing. He felt like blasting everyone around him, but then he caught a glimpse of teal to his right.

“Renalf!” Oqrol bellowed.

Foolishly, the Wizard turned around. Their eyes met, Oqrol’s narrowing in rage, Renalf’s widening in fear. The former raised his hand and shouted, “Ignizia!”. Renalf dropped to the ground, causing the firebolt to hit a goblin behind him. As if instinctively, the humans, elves, goblins and orcs moved out of the line-of-fire and formed a circular space in which the two Wizards could duel.

Renalf tried to run away, but Oqrol whispered an incantation, after which a wall of fire cut Renalf off. “Didn’t think I’d let you escape again, did you?”

Realising he was trapped, Renalf spun around and faced Oqrol. “Actually, I knew this would happen,” Renalf replied, his eyes darting around.

“And? Are you ready to meet Ariana?”

“Well,” Renalf said, finally focussing on Oqrol, “not quite. Aqia!

The ball of water caught Oqrol off guard and caused him to fall off the horse, which then ran away. Quickly pushing himself back to his feet, Oqrol called Igniver, directing the stream of flames at Renalf. He grinned menacingly.

Renalf, however, would not give in so easily and formed a protective sphere of water around him, which easily absorbed the flames. Oqrol cut off the fire and breathed shallowly. Renalf soon discontinued the sphere, for he too was short of breath.

“Fancy your chances in a swordfight?” the Teal Wizard enquired.

Oqrol grimaced and drew his sword, but not before producing one of his phials and downing the liquid. “If you’d rather be beheaded than burned to a crisp, I’d happily oblige.”

The two Wizards charged, their swords brandished high. Shouting a war cry, Oqrol chopped downwards, but Renalf parried the blow. However, Oqrol did not allow his momentum to be deflected and applied pressure instead. He grinned maniacally when sweat broke out on Renalf’s brow.

“Allow me to dry that off for you,” Oqrol jeered. He chanted Armarigni, after which flames covered the blade of his sword.

Renalf gasped and tilted his sword so that the blade skidded off. “Yon Martek!

Oqrol flew through the air and landed amongst the writhing mass of bodies, winded. Scrambling to his feet, he saw Renalf was once again trying to escape. “Fight me, you coward! Hel o-Minar!

Ropes flew from Oqrol’s outstretched hand and tied Renalf’s legs together, causing the old Wizard to trip and fall. Renalf rolled onto his back and looked up at the Crimson Wizard, who had dashed towards him and had his sword at his throat.

“How… how are you not exhausted?”

Oqrol grinned sadistically. “It’s a trick inspired by a friend.”

“You don’t have any friends,” Renalf spat, but eyeing the blade nervously “only soldiers. And even those you don’t have anymore.”

“A Wizard doesn’t need soldiers – just power. And thanks to a few days travelling with a certain Ollemcrat, I now have more than ever before.”

“Mind sharing?”

Oqrol frowned, his concentration broken. “What?”

Navia Surripis

As if a phantom hand had gripped his heart and squeezed, Oqrol felt an icy chill shoot through his body. Renalf, conversely, seemed to be energised, which could only mean he had used an Equaliser Spell. He didn’t feel physically weaker, so the bloody fool must have equalised their mana.

Speaking of which, where had he gone? The Wizard wasn’t beneath him anymore, only the ropes with which he had been felled. Renalf was undoubtedly a weakling, but he definitely earned points for speed.

“Oh Oqrol!” Said Wizard spun in the direction of his nemesis’ voice. “Evsat!

A pool of clear green slime appeared beneath the Crimson Wizard. Oqrol looked down at it, but it didn’t do anything. “Is that the best you can do?”

Aqia!

Another ball of water hit him, and too late Oqrol realised standing in a pool of slippery slime would result in–

Damn, that hurt.

Oqrol tried to get to his feet, but he slipped on the lime liquid and fell again. Shame on the other person if they fooled you once, but shame on you if they fooled you twice; Oqrol crawled out of the green goo before trying to stand again. Surprisingly, Renalf was still there, waiting for him.

“You aren’t running away?”

“You’d just follow me again. Besides, it’s fun seeing you covered in slime.”

Oqrol snarled and threw a fireball at the other Wizard, but his opponent met it with an equally large waterball, cancelling the attack. Oqrol then directed a stream of fire at Renalf, but that too was met with a spell opposite in nature but equal in power. It was a frustrating battle, but one he was determined to win.

Oqrol pulled another phial from inside his cloak, still directing the stream of fire, and drank the contents. Instantly, his stream increased in size and intensity. Finally, he had the advantage – or so he thought.

Navia Surripis!

Again, that spectral sensation. “Don’t you know any other spells?” he asked, cutting the firestream off.

Renalf cut the waterspout off too. “You’re the one who isn’t learning. I’m just using smart tactics.”

Unsurprisingly, Oqrol saw red. (Crimson, to be exact.) “You think you’re funny? Then try Damnation! Va Za Recta!” A beam of blood-red energy shot towards Renalf, and as Oqrol took in the old Wizard’s shocked expression, he knew victory was his. He didn’t even care to hear which incantation the other muttered.

A fatal mistake.

An orange beam emerged from Renalf’s hand and hit the red one, causing it to rebound and hit Oqrol instead, whose grimace changed from depicting glee to chagrin. Oqrol looked down, and there, in the dead-centre of his chest, blood poured from a large gash in his chest. He sank to his knees, but glared at Renalf defiantly.

“Had you stuck to your strengths, you would have won,” Renalf commented casually, “but since you used forbidden magic, I have. It is most unexpected, but you will be meeting Arianna before me. A pity, since you were always my most promising apprentice.”

“I was your only apprentice!” Oqrol shouted.

“Yes, my first and last. You were my favourite too, but then I wronged you and everything changed. I caused you to follow the path of Destruction, and for that, I am sorry, but I tried many times to make peace; you would not have it. I hope you find peace in the afterlife.” Renalf sighed. “I truly expected old age or some curse would claim me long before your time has passed, but alas, Lakadeema had other plans. Farewell, Oqrol.”

Renalf turned and walked away, as oblivious to the fighting masses around him as they were to him. But Oqrol refused to let his former mentor have the last laugh. He still had one phial of liquid magic left, and he would use it to depart from the world in a literal blaze of glory.

He drank the last of his magic and spread his arms wide. “Tempigni Zeratus!” From the anger in his heart burst a great storm of fire, a tempest of fury that burned his veins and scorched his flesh, but he had been taming fire for almost a decade and commanded some of its power still. Thus, the flames consumed those around him far faster than it did him, giving him time to chant his final spell. “Ignae Prata!” The fiery cyclone shifted into the form of a great Phoenix, the incarnation of both life and death. Oqrol directed the animated fire at Renalf, who had backed up against a nearby wall, hoping to avoid the fire.

But something pulled his attention to his right. Oqrol’s eyes were burning, but he reluctantly redirected his gaze. He saw Diánterrus, who had another Ollemcrat slung over his shoulder, but he was amidst a group of giants. How had they gotten there? He saw a colossal hammer headed straight for his friend, and unthinkingly, he ordered the phoenix at the group of giants instead. The giant stopped midswing, gazing at the fiery bird, before disappearing amongst the flames. Diánterrus appeared beside the inferno, running away. With a backwards glance, the Ollemcrat's gaze met with Oqrol's and an unspoken farewell was exchanged between them. It was Oqrol's last act, for he embraced the fire like an old friend.

And thus ends the Tale of the Crimson Wizard.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.








I was weeping as much for him as her; we do sometimes pity creatures that have none of the feeling either for themselves or others.
— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights