Post by GreyEidolon on Oct 17, 2006 12:49:02 GMT -5
"Adaeli- A small mountainside village erected by miners and their families, seems an apt description, no?" Varika asked Uthro, her morale bolstered by their arrival.
"Indeed. Now you said something about an inn?" He asked, obviously in higher spirtits as well.
"Don't worry, 'The Bloody Strings Inn' is right over here." She said, motioning to a tall oaken building barely forty feet from where they stood.
"Oh, thank The Nine..." Uthro said exasperated. Varika laughed, feeling for the first time in a long time that it was warranted.
She looked up at the ashen sky, remebering how much she loved the rain. She had been scolded countless times as a child for playing in a storm or sudden squall. But it was theraputic for her, simultaeneously calming and exhillirating. Alive and lifeless. A quiet cacaphony.
A sudden shout shook Varika from her trance.
"You two!" It said, rough and nasle. "You must be cohorts of Vindhart!"
Varika turned to find the origin of the noise. Several yards away stood a lean man, wearing a white robe trimmed with silver and gold. He was balding with a thick mustache under his pointed nose.
The robed man was flanked by two guards on either side, each wearing full suits of white ebony armor. A thin silver line traced a dragon across the cuirass of each suit. A symbol of the Nine Divine...
"Clergymen." Whispered Uthro. "Allow me."
He took several steps toward the priest.
"Forgive me, Sera, I know naught of this 'Vindhart' you speak of?" He said truthfully.
"Likely!" Said the pointed figure, his voice now sharp and sarcastic.
"Please, Sera, we are simply two weary travellers looking for a place to re-!" Pleaded Varika.
"Enough!" The priest interrupted. " I've no time for this! Seize them!"
The two armored men advanced.
Varika weighed her options. She could run, but she wouldn't get far. Could we fight?- She thought, noticing Uthro's hand resting readily on the hilt of his sword- No, not in the condition we are in. Damn! It's so hard to think! Especially with this music!
Music?
Someone nearby had struck a single chord. Varika turned to look for it's source, noticing the guards looking up at the building behind them. There, on a low hanging part of the inn's roof, sat a man with long black hair.
He was young-looking, perhaps in his early twenties, with a short beard on his chin and thin stubble where the rest of it should have been. He was wearing a long, dark red robe with a pair of tan pants. Oddly enough, he was also wearing a pair of steel boots. The man was holding a lyre, one hand across the strings, and he was staring directly at the white robed priest.
"Corsy! It has been far too long!" said the man in a mock-excited tone.
" 'Corsy?', Damn You! You shall refer to me as 'Sera Corcepius Rayul The Third'!" Said white robe.
Red-robe jumped down from his rooftop perch.
"I doubt either of us have the time for such formalities." He said.
Even in the darkness it was obvious that Corcepius was fuming.
"It's over, Vindhart, we have you!" He said.
"Excuse me for a moment, I've yet to introduce myself to our guests." Said Vindhart, turning towards Varika and Uthro and ignoring Corcepius's threat.
"Damn you! Seize those two!" Yelled the priest.
"I wouldn't..." Said Vindhart knowingly.
The two men in white ebony lunged forward. Vindhart let out a sigh and struck another chord. Rather than realising a note however, the lyre began to hum-and then glow. Soon it was shrouded in it's own opalescence, radiating a strange white glow.
A sphere of white-hot energy burst forward from the instrument and collided with Varika's attacker. He staggered for a moment, then suddenly fell forward unable to move.
"A burden spell, and a powerful one at that." Said Vindhart, holding up his now normal colored lyre.
Sensing oppurtunity, Varika lunged at the remaining guard, grabbing his wrist were it was exposed between the man's guantlet and vambrace. She shouted her own spell and black smoke issued from the his arm. He screamed and pulled away, throwing his guantlet on the ground cursing. His hand had turned a horrid grey color, like that of a corpse and was blistering and shaking wildly. Infuriated, he removed his helmet and grabbed Varika by the hair. She screamed and tried to break lose, but the man's grip was too strong.
"Cut it!" She roared at Uthro who had already drawn his sword.
Without hesitation he brought down the blade against Varika's hair, severing it from her head and realising her from the guards vice.
"Damn it!" Bellowed Corcepius." You! Get the other and get out of here!"
After some arcane mumbling the priest was enveloped in a purple light, and then suddenly he was gone. The other guard ran over to his fellow and performed a similiar spell.
Vindhart approached the two bewildered travellers.
"As you've probably gathered, I am "Bloody Strings" Vindhart, and you, my lady are a necromancer."
There, finally part four. Enjoy.
"Indeed. Now you said something about an inn?" He asked, obviously in higher spirtits as well.
"Don't worry, 'The Bloody Strings Inn' is right over here." She said, motioning to a tall oaken building barely forty feet from where they stood.
"Oh, thank The Nine..." Uthro said exasperated. Varika laughed, feeling for the first time in a long time that it was warranted.
She looked up at the ashen sky, remebering how much she loved the rain. She had been scolded countless times as a child for playing in a storm or sudden squall. But it was theraputic for her, simultaeneously calming and exhillirating. Alive and lifeless. A quiet cacaphony.
A sudden shout shook Varika from her trance.
"You two!" It said, rough and nasle. "You must be cohorts of Vindhart!"
Varika turned to find the origin of the noise. Several yards away stood a lean man, wearing a white robe trimmed with silver and gold. He was balding with a thick mustache under his pointed nose.
The robed man was flanked by two guards on either side, each wearing full suits of white ebony armor. A thin silver line traced a dragon across the cuirass of each suit. A symbol of the Nine Divine...
"Clergymen." Whispered Uthro. "Allow me."
He took several steps toward the priest.
"Forgive me, Sera, I know naught of this 'Vindhart' you speak of?" He said truthfully.
"Likely!" Said the pointed figure, his voice now sharp and sarcastic.
"Please, Sera, we are simply two weary travellers looking for a place to re-!" Pleaded Varika.
"Enough!" The priest interrupted. " I've no time for this! Seize them!"
The two armored men advanced.
Varika weighed her options. She could run, but she wouldn't get far. Could we fight?- She thought, noticing Uthro's hand resting readily on the hilt of his sword- No, not in the condition we are in. Damn! It's so hard to think! Especially with this music!
Music?
Someone nearby had struck a single chord. Varika turned to look for it's source, noticing the guards looking up at the building behind them. There, on a low hanging part of the inn's roof, sat a man with long black hair.
He was young-looking, perhaps in his early twenties, with a short beard on his chin and thin stubble where the rest of it should have been. He was wearing a long, dark red robe with a pair of tan pants. Oddly enough, he was also wearing a pair of steel boots. The man was holding a lyre, one hand across the strings, and he was staring directly at the white robed priest.
"Corsy! It has been far too long!" said the man in a mock-excited tone.
" 'Corsy?', Damn You! You shall refer to me as 'Sera Corcepius Rayul The Third'!" Said white robe.
Red-robe jumped down from his rooftop perch.
"I doubt either of us have the time for such formalities." He said.
Even in the darkness it was obvious that Corcepius was fuming.
"It's over, Vindhart, we have you!" He said.
"Excuse me for a moment, I've yet to introduce myself to our guests." Said Vindhart, turning towards Varika and Uthro and ignoring Corcepius's threat.
"Damn you! Seize those two!" Yelled the priest.
"I wouldn't..." Said Vindhart knowingly.
The two men in white ebony lunged forward. Vindhart let out a sigh and struck another chord. Rather than realising a note however, the lyre began to hum-and then glow. Soon it was shrouded in it's own opalescence, radiating a strange white glow.
A sphere of white-hot energy burst forward from the instrument and collided with Varika's attacker. He staggered for a moment, then suddenly fell forward unable to move.
"A burden spell, and a powerful one at that." Said Vindhart, holding up his now normal colored lyre.
Sensing oppurtunity, Varika lunged at the remaining guard, grabbing his wrist were it was exposed between the man's guantlet and vambrace. She shouted her own spell and black smoke issued from the his arm. He screamed and pulled away, throwing his guantlet on the ground cursing. His hand had turned a horrid grey color, like that of a corpse and was blistering and shaking wildly. Infuriated, he removed his helmet and grabbed Varika by the hair. She screamed and tried to break lose, but the man's grip was too strong.
"Cut it!" She roared at Uthro who had already drawn his sword.
Without hesitation he brought down the blade against Varika's hair, severing it from her head and realising her from the guards vice.
"Damn it!" Bellowed Corcepius." You! Get the other and get out of here!"
After some arcane mumbling the priest was enveloped in a purple light, and then suddenly he was gone. The other guard ran over to his fellow and performed a similiar spell.
Vindhart approached the two bewildered travellers.
"As you've probably gathered, I am "Bloody Strings" Vindhart, and you, my lady are a necromancer."
There, finally part four. Enjoy.