Monthly Archives: March 2007

To Wait or Go Forward?

While the cleric took a moment to use his healing power on the dwarf, Miklos searched Dentiata’s corpse for clues and keys. On his person, he wore an amulet, a ring and a belt pouch. Near his dead hand lied the wizard’s ornate dagger. In the belt pouch, were a small handful of gold and silver coins.

“Feldard, are you sure you want to lead?” asked Nicolai. “Given that Dentiata may well have trapped this stairwell and the approaches to his chambers…”

The dwarf shrugged at Nicolai’s comment and waved the human ahead of him. “If you want to lead checking for such along the way go for it I’ll cover your back.” Feldard falls into step behind the rogue.

Saeth raised her hand, showing the wand that she’d retrieved. “You want to wave this thing around a bit? Carefully?”

“Saeth, please don’t wave that thing around,” said the young rogue. “I’d quite like to get back to Sisak before the Duke’s guard gets here and tries to storm the place.”

“Gentlemen, I get the feeling after all this shouting a swordplay that if there were any further defenders they would have come to investigate the noise. Therefore as Master Feldard is in need of further healing I will take this opportunity to perform some meditiations while you search the upper floors. I also echo Miklos’s fears that this Necromancer may have devised cunning traps to ensnare the would-be thief. Be wary, still.”

With these words Maruc sat himself down and prepared to meditate for the next 4 hours to reclaim his healing.

Mikos stifled a laugh as Nicolai muttered his concern. “My dear boy, if the creator of the wand designed it to go off by mere motion alone he would never be able to carry it around. Have no fear, one must decypher the command word in order to call forth its power.” Fortunately, the young mage had managed to catch Dentiata’s command word utterance just before he had been hit with the wave of paralysis. He gratefully recieved the wand for Saeth. “Thank you Mistress.”

“Now as Maruc has decided to commune with Halav, we have a choice. We can wait for our esteemed monastic colleague to complete his meditations. Or we may venture forth imediately to save time as, as Maruc has said, we are unlikely to meet further resistance.”

Miklos paused a moment, “I must admit I am impatient to see what the Necromancer has studied and what tomes he posesses. However, if he is a mightier a wizard as Sevastian we may need Maruc’s aid. He may have summoned or created more of the undead. Although creatures such as these would have to be programmed with instructions to obey, this may mean that we will indeed find unholy resistance.”



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Needles and Pins

Maruc was thankful that Feldard had hauled him over to a cot, albeit an orc one. The smell was unpleasant. The time whiled away as he lay there still wondering if he would ever move again. Half an hour slipped by then an hour. He drifted into a meditative sleep. There wasn’t much more he could do. The pins and needles he feared roused him from sleep and he sat up shaking life into the offending limb. He got up and pulled his cloak on before realising he was moving.

The memories came back. “We owe you our lives Master Feldard. Halav bless you and your father.” He entoned in the formal priest way. “And I see the others rousing.”

Maruc walked over to the corpse of the Dark Mage. “I recognise this weave, it is the same as dread Sevastian. Feldard you have rid this world of another Necromancer. This is the garb of the Sons of Night. Halav has guided us here so we might be more enlightened. Miklos may know, or guess more.”

He walked over the the sleeping Mage. “Wake up my friend.” he said as he roused the Traladaran. “Your view on these matters are required.”

Miklos had drifted off into a deep sleep. His mind was full of battling masters of arcania. The Lords of Night and Day testing each other and probing for weaknesses. He was a spectator, in awe of the forces being commanded by the Loremasters the pitch of the battle swayed to and for neither side claiming the upper hand for long. A tongue of energy lashed out toward the helpless bystander and it shook his body like a rag doll. He cried out.

“..up my friend, your view on these matters is required.”

“Who? What?” Miklos look around feverishly. A dream, it was a dream. He started to relax. Then a pang of fear. “The slumbering Orcs are they secure? Dentiata what of him?”

“Easy old boy, Dentiata has been slain by Feldard. He servived with hardly a scratch on him. He has also taken care of all those other things you mentioned.” Maruc replied with a grin.

Miklos took stock of the situation and went over to the body of the Mage. “Such a waste.” He said , more to himself. “But for a twist of fate he might have been a LoreMaster in Specularum, not a self obsested Wizard seeking vainglory. Immortality was not for you Dentiata. But perhaps something of your life may be put to the service of expanding the knowledge of wizardry.”

Miklos turned to the others. “This man may have been defeated but he may yet defeat us. Be wary of magical traps and undead servants. For it is plain that he and Sevastian were in league and the Dread Night we have discoverd is being drawn ever nearer. We must determin how many members there are and if we have discovered the leaders. Or if there is worse to come.”

“Our first priority is the scour this Tower for top to bottom. We leave no chair moved or carpet lifted. All its secrets must be revealed. Then we can return to Caldwell and claim our reward. Saeth, what happened to the wizards wand, it is a fearsome thing. It could prove a valuable asset. I would like to determine how to command it.”

“If we’re going to have a look at this nutter’s chambers, I suggest that we at least check for traps on the way up. Arrogant he may have been, but stupid he was not. And we still haven’t found the missing villagers, I’m sure that was at least part of the reason we came here.”

“Missing Villagers? Oh yes, we must find them too.” Miklos added lamely after being reminded by Nicolai.

Feldard merely nodded gruffily at the priests blessing. When the others were ready to continue on up, he took up the lead. Though the chances of there being someone to fight after the demise of Dentiata was quite low, the dwarf still felt it his place to be in the lead.


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The Paralysis Wears Off


Saeth crouched, and poked Miklos, the nearest of the fallen forms. Unwilling to admit directly that she hadn’t the faintest idea, she poked him again, harder, then declared, “If they don’t wake up, we can immortalize them in song… Can you think of a better rhyme to ‘There was a boy from Traladar’ than ‘He had very funny hair’?” While waiting for the Dwarf to answer, she moved to the side of the fallen night-mage, and examined the wand he wielded. It was a thin, smooth, dark metal stick about two feet long.

Miklos’s eyes water at Saeths comment. It was an interesting fight, but even powerful mages struggle to cast whilest being beaten to death by a violent weapon: to witt ‘one dwarf’.

Miklos burned to get up and scour the Tower from top to bottom. Out of the corner of his eye he had caught glimpses of Denetiata. In some way he regretted the chance to talk to him. It would have been useful to determin if any other members of his covern were nearby. Miklos aslo wanted to know what drove an intelligent man to research dark arts as there were many other areas within the feild of the arcane that could use men of Denetiata caliber.

These things and others Miklos idly wondered about whilest he waited the dweomer to pass.

Maruc had collapsed in a heap next to the doorway. His face awkwardly pressed against the rough stone wall. His arm had been trapped behind him with the shiled strap and he couldn’t feel his hand as his dead body weight had slowed the bloodflow to his arm. He wasn’t looking forward to the pins and needles if he ever moved again that was. He also hoped that he would be roused before the orc in front of him came to.

He wondered if one of the others would pull him onto his back at least. Rumour had it that these paralysis incantations could last more than half an hour. Maruc half-hoped that Miklos had caught the command word for the wand.

Nicolai, lying conscious with the other paralyzed combatants, decided to try to catch up on some sleep.

The dwarf just shook his head at the elfs poor attempt at rhyme. “I’m no poet. I’ll leave that to you Elf.”

With a sigh, Feldard set about dealing with both the dead and the paralyzed bodies. “A hand here would be appreciated.” The dead and the paralyzed orcs were looted. Each of them had a handful of gold and silver pieces. The dead bodies were piled to one side. The paralyzed orcs were forcibly tied and moved to the centre of the Hall where they could be watched at all times.

Feldard figured he might need living proof of Dentiata’s foulness. Also the orcs with some ‘persuasion’ might be able to tell them more about Dentiata’s plans.
His paralyzed companions were hauled to the cots and laid to rest there. Once that was all done, he settled himself to wait.

After almost two hours, the effects of the wand began to wear off, and Maruc, Miklos and Nicolai were able to start moving.


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The Dead and The Paralyzed

Feldard nudged at the elven fighter with a booted foot while prepared to step back. He was well aware of her prowess with daggers and while there were none in hand presently that didn’t mean she wouldn’t wake from the magical slumber and not pull one on him before realizing it was he. “Saeth, quit sleeping on the job!”

Saeth’s eye opened halfway, and a groan sounded as she felt around, trying to find her blade. “Give me my sword back, and I’ll make you regret you were ever born!” Only after a moment did she realize that it wasn’t the wizard who had her at his mercy. “Where’d he go? Did he flee up the stairs?”

“I’ve dealt with him already. Come help me watch over the others.. he did something to them.” Feldard lead the elf to the others.

The floor was littered with the bodies of dead orcs. The dwarf and elf stood over where Nicolai, Maruc, Miklos and the last two orcs lied motionless on the ground.

“Will the enchantment eventually fade or is this permanent?”


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Waking The Elf

The dwarf scanned the immediate area but it seemed he was the only one up and moving. He moved to where Miklos lay on the ground and checked if the young mage were still alive. Which he was. So it seemed that his friends were merely sleeping or paralyzed. Feldard didn’t know magick well but he hoped with the darkmage dead that any enchantments cast would soon wear off. Until such time as it did he would stand watch over them.

He then walked over to the stairwell to find the sleeping elf curled up on the floor at the base of the stairs. He then set about to waking her up from the magical slumber.


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The End of Thaddigren Dentiata

This was a new ploy to him but in the end it there wasn’t much he could do but attempt to sidestep as many of the daggers as possible and one by one take out the mages. Feldard gave an audible harumph. Like one mage wasn’t bad enough! As he swung his axe into position to strike, he tried to line up as many in his axes path as possible. Another fear inspiring dwarven bellow energized his attack.

Maruc, Nicolai and Miklos listened helplessly as they lay on the ground paralyzed, yet conscious.

The dwarf swung his axe with ferocity and struck at another of the apparitions was vaporized. With the dwarf momentarily off balance, the mage stabbed at him with his dagger. Though Dentiata wounded the dwarf, his strike also, for a brief moment, revealed which of the three remaining images was real. The dwarf took advantage of this, and sliced his axe into the armorless sorceror.

Dentiata cried out in pain. It had been quite a long time since he had been wounded in combat. He much preferred to have his lackeys handle the dirty work such as this. How could this have happened? He was locked in mortal combat with a dwarf. Most of his orc henchmen were dead. On the eve of his greatest accomplishment, his plans and schemes were being ruined by this maniac demihuman! An expression of deep anger came over the wizard’s face. He stabbed at the dwarf again and again, but the dwarf’s thick armor protected him from most of the attacks.

Feldard eliminated another of the mirror images of the spellcaster. Now, he was left facing just two of them. He tossed a crona in his mind and guessed the one on the right. He again swung his mighty battle axe and its enchantment helped guide the massive blade to the target. Dentiata screamed in agony as the sharp metal dug deep through his torso. The last phantom image evaporated as the wizard was killed.

The room was now still and nearly silent. The only sound being that of Feldard Scarredbrow’s heavy breathing.


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Multiple Mages


Feldard shook his head trying to clear the last of the spell from his mind. Damn Dentiata..try to enchant him, would he?! That in itself was justification enough to kill the mage where he stood. Never mind the admission of preparing for the Dread Night and ruling the world.

With a bellow of rage, the dwarf closed the distance between the two and swung back his battle axe and in a mighty swing. He would cleave this evil mage down just as he had the last—with sheer brute strength.

Dentiata was caught off guard. Twice now this dwarf had resisted his powerful dark magic! But there was no time to ponder, for the dwarf was already upon him! The mage cursed. He should have unleashed the full power of his magic while he had the chance. Now this pesky dwarf was too close to target him with the wand or his dreaded darkning bolt. As Thaddigren prepared for melee combat, he hoped his magical enchantments would be enough to enable him to overcome this annoying creature, but his confidence was beginning to fade. He had time to cast one last spell before Feldard could reach him.

Before Feldard’s eyes, the mage split into five different versions of himself. As the dwarven warrior brought his axe down into one of the Dentiata’s, the mage vaporized into nothingness. He now found himself surrounded by a total four Dentiata’s. The multiple mages seemed to flicker in and out of existence and moved through one another. There was seemingly no way to tell with one was the real Thaddigren Dentiata and which were the figments.

In unison, they drew their daggers and attempted to strike at the dwarf.


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