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Dawn
Posted: 24 Nov 2004 03:26 PM |
“I’ll tell yeh, Byron, cause ay have a kind face, an’ yeh’ve bought meh more then mah share o’ drink’s tonight!” Byron grabbed the swaying dwarf’s shoulder.
“Steady there, Mero.” With his free hand, Byron moved the dwarf’s half-filled tankard to the other side of the table. Mero did not seem to notice, so Byron continued, “You said used to be able to find anyone, anywhere.” Byron let go of the dwarf’s shoulder. “How?”
He had met Mero earlier that day, while browsing the wears at the Buckshire Trading post. Byron had taken an instant liking to Mero, the dwarf’s direct nature and lack of patience for what he called ‘Th’ unimportant th’ngs,’ was a refreshing change for Byron. They went to Carfax that day, where Mero’s prowess with an axe impressed Byron.
They had retired for the evening to the Four Wind’s Inn. Mero had planned to start the journey back to the Halls of Bregodim the following day, and as Byron had no intention of following, they decided to celebrate their newfound friendship over an ale. One ale turned into many, at least for Mero, who did not seem to notice that Byron nursed a single drink the entire night. The more Mero drank, the more elaborate his tales became, until he began speaking about his days in the desert.
“See, laddie, I useta work down a the big Dig.” Byron looked at his friend blankly. “Yeh know, Byron,” the dwarf pronounced the name Bi-rune, “the one down at Ankarur.” Byron nodded; he knew the place. Mero smiled, “Then ya know of the crypt’s undaneath there, eh.” Mero continued, but by now Byron could tell he would have ignored any comments not his own. Realizing this, Byron remained silent as Mero spun his tale. “I was workin’ down there, ya see, in meh ‘unger days.” The older dwarf chuckles, “Me an a bunch o’ mates decided one day that there was treasure ta be had in that crypt. So we sneaked down there wun night, quite as can be, lookin’ fer something that’d make us some money.”
Byron frowned. He has not realized Mero has such mercinary tendancies. “Aw, close yer yapper ‘fore ya let a fly in.” Byron straightened, and set his face. “Yeh’re surprised that ole Mero was a grave robber, eh? Well, this was a long time ago, an’ I was a diff’r’t dwarf then.” Smoke from Mero’s pipe coiled over his head. He sat back and looked seriously at Byron, “weh found sumthin’ all right. A crystal, beautiful as any I’ve ever seen.” The dwarf stared into the roaring fire. “’Twas a magic crystal, ya know.”
A wide grin crossed Mero’s face. “Th’ crystal, yeh see, laddie?” Byron shook his head in what he hoped was a sign of encouragement. “Found deep in th’ crypts. It was. Me and meh mates took it back to th’ surface, or we tried ta. Th’ mummies blocked us in a rom, an’ we had no place a go.” The dwarf reached for his ale and, being quick even for his size and lack of sobriety, was able to find his mug. He gook a deep draw from his newly liberated ale before continuing.
“Ah took th’ crystal, ya see. An’ when I did, I suddenly aw see me brother workin’ in th’ forge at the Hall. Funny thing was, Ah had only just wished at see my brother’s again.
Mero continued. “I thought the crystal may be a wishgiver, so I wished us all out of there right quick. That didn’t work, but I did get an’ image of a dinji.” Byron tried to gauge if the dwarf had had too much to drink.
“A dinji?” questioned Byron.
“Yeh heard me, laddie. A genie. A wishgranter. But that didn’t help me none, we were still corned in those blasted crypts. I tells th’ wizard with us, a dwarf named Fistforge, who took the crystal. Didn’t take him long to learn that the crystal didn’t summon at all. Rather, “ The dwarf pointed to his eyes, “it lets yeah see with me own Minds Eye. Er so ‘e told me. Let’s see anyone…find anyone,’ is what he said.”
Byron bout Mero several more drinks, and with each one the dwarves lips became looser, and Byron discovered me about this crystal Mero and his mates were caught in abject fear. To appease the undead of the crypts, Mero quickly returned the artifact to it’s rightful place. He also told Byron exactly where it could be found.
Byron thanks Mero by placing a few more gold coins on the counter next to the passed out dwarf. Byron had to gather his family, and his friends. This crystal may hold the key to solving the problem of what to do about Mr. Loccard.
He could not fine Loccard, but perhaps this crystal could. |
My name is Byron Lorian....I am the Last Son |
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Re: Dawn
Posted: 30 Nov 2004 10:14 AM |
“Ouch!” Byron quickly pulled his hand from the hidden compartment he had discovered on the ancient stone throne. He glanced at his hand quickly and, seeing blood, quickly tucked his hand between his left arm and body.
“What happened,” Eliana said urgently. She has checked the compartment for traps and had found none. Even so, anything was possible in the deep crypts of Arkanur.
Byron shook his head. “I will be fine,” he said tightly, though his hand was throbbing. “The crystal is not here…It looks like grave robbers have gotten to it already. Who knows how long…”
A cold, terrible voice echoed in the cavernous crypt. Byron whipped towards the sound, ignoring the shooting pain in his hand. “Curse onto you, thrice given!” The fetid smell of the mummy lord’s putrid flesh assaulted Byron, causing him to gag. The pain in his hand was spreading to his arm, and sweat beaded his forehead.
Arcane, the brash paladin of Midoran, rushed towards the mummy lord, his sword at the ready. Byron moved to help, but he lacked the strength to raise his sword. Someone grabbed his arm and started to lead him away. “No,” croaked Byron, “Just get out of here. Leave me.”
“No,” said someone, was it Macha? “We will leave together.”
“Ahead!” shouted Arcane, “Mummies. Lots of them!”
The sounds of combat surrounded Byron, but he could not move. He leaned against the cold stone, trying to catch his breath. Blood roared in his ears like a waterfall, and his heart pounded in his chest. Breath came in short, ragged gasps. He leaned harder against the stone as the strength in his legs left. He sank to the ground.
“Byron” The voice seemed distant and surreal, as if from a dream.
“Byron, get up”
“Byron!!”
Darkness. It was all around him, yet he was not blind. The images he saw were familiar, yet alien at the same time.
He saw a legion of knights (they were his knights, right?) dressed in black and gold armor, standing in formation. He was one of those knights, he knew it. He wanted to join the formation, but his armor was being cleaned by his squire. ‘Blast, where is that boy!’
He knew the High Prince did not like to be kept waiting, especially by a company captain. Worse still, it was rare for a captain to be personally inspected by the High Prince. It was a great honor.
“Daniel,” he shouted, “You had better be finished with that armor!” A young boy, no older then fifteen, scampered in from the other room, “Aye, Sir Lorian, it is ready,…”
Darkness. It surrounded him, giving him vision of things he did not know, yet were so familiar. He heard voices around him.
“The poison runs deep, my prayers have no effect.’
“Will he live?”
“I do not know.”
He normally would have smiled while returning his friend’s salute. Recent events, though, gave him no reason to smile. “Well met, Sir Vandris. What word have you?”
Sir Vandris, a tall man with dark hair and swarthy skin, nodded crisply and presented a letter sealed with an eagle crest. “Eight people have broken the quarantine of the southwestern districts.”
He grunted at the news, these were not the first that broke the quarentine. “Has it spread?”
Sir Vandris nodded, “We have reports of the illness in the north and east parts of the city. Captain, we cannot stop it now.”
“I know, Sir Vandris, I know.”
“There is more,” Vandris continued after the captain nodded. “The ones that have fallen from this plague….they are rising again. Captain Lorian," voice dropped, "Richard...they are undead.
“Undead,” frowned Richard. “Gather what is left of our regiment. Then divide them into squads of four and send them to patrol the city.”
Vandris saluted briskly and turned on his heal. “Good luck,” said Richard as the his comrade rushed off to carry out the orders, “May the greater good be served. May our faith bless us, and see us through this crisis….”
Darkness. Impossibly, it was blacker then before. He could feel the heat from the fever and the pain in his hand, yet his mind still wandered. Words came unbidden to his mind.
Uphold Justice, ….
Fight inequity, ….
Protect the weak....
Show strength....
Be humble in all things, ….
Be merciful to all, ….
Be peaceful ….
Walk with honor …..
Fevers can produce strange things, most of all visions and hallucinations. Byron did not know how long he was in that feverish state. He woke up at the Seven Sister’s to see Eliana sitting next to his bed. She seemed worried, so he asked what was wrong. Eliana informed him how he had been delirious in the crypts of Arankur. She explained how they dragged him to the Sisters, all the while listening to him babble in what appeared to be another language.
A wave of tiredness overwhelmed Byron, and he fell asleep before Eliana was finished speaking. |
My name is Byron Lorian....I am the Last Son |
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Re: Dawn
Posted: 30 Nov 2004 11:19 AM |
Excellent as always!
((BTW, I almost got confused by the name Vandris. I was like "When did I make a Vandris?" And was about to check my logins...lol)) |
I'm The Cult of Personality. |
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Re: Dawn
Posted: 30 Nov 2004 12:02 PM |
| ((saviour and devil...)) |
Purpose in life: finding better ways of allowing players to kill themselves. Repeatedly.
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"...Cause he mixes it with love
And makes the world taste good."
--
<@James42> Lawful good isn't in your vocabulary, it's on your menu.
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Re: Dawn
Posted: 20 Dec 2004 11:20 AM |
Returned from Maldovia,
Returned from the brink,
Returned to a peaceful rest.
Outside, the sun rises into the sky,
Marking the end of the dawn. |
My name is Byron Lorian....I am the Last Son |
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