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From the ground, H'Dero's eyes shot daggers at Saere. She chirpily brushed herself off and danced over to the rest of the group. H'Dero clenched his fists together and darted his head around looking for something to destroy in his madness. Smoke billowing out of his head he lashed his sword up in the air and stabbed it into the ground with all of his explosive strength. The handle remained above ground and H'Dero's eyes were wide, he began to let out his compressed anger.

He threw his arms out and screamed in anguish across the hillside. He stomped around in a circle, arms whipping about. His face was red and veins pumping.

His hatred was releasing, his strength fueled by all of the gruesome images of his past. The adrenaline flowing he wanted to let it all out on something. Anything. But nothing was around him.

He screamed out again, clutched his forehead, and collapsed. He lay sweating on the ground, panting.

He screamed out again before losing consciousness.

Last edited by Rumble on 06-23-2001 at 06:37 AM

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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
HHHHHGGGHHH!

By The Holy God Phen's Robe! What was THAT?

Suddenly jolted from his semi-concious rest, Matthew heard an earsplitting roar. That almost didn't sound human...

Matthew considered going to investigate, but his leg, although feeling better, still protested. Instead, Matthew brushed aside some of the twigs that were at eye level, giving him limited visibility of the mine entrance. The small "viewing hole" was no more that 6 inches long and two inches high.

Nothing looks out of the ordinary... But then again I might not have a complete view...

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“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
HHHHHHGGGHHH!”

The sound tore through Ileni’s body. She froze where she stood. Below her, the blacksmith was….was….acting possessed! Ileni started to shake. H’Dero’s head whipped around, as if he was looking for something. Suddenly, he lashed his sword up into the air and stabbed it into the ground. Ileni made the sign of The Three instinctively. The blacksmith threw out his arms and started screaming. His face and his neck contorted. The sound was inhuman. It ripped through her conscious mind, into the place where fear and anger lay buried for over 30 years and resonated there. She began to shake harder. And feel very afraid. She started to back away, hands held out, to ward off…something…the unknown…the fearful, anguished, soul-wrenching sounds that the blacksmith was making. She couldn’t even take in what was happening with the other two. She was totally focused on the madman that used to be the blacksmith. All her instincts screamed RUN! And then just as suddenly as it started, the blacksmith grabbed his forehead and collapsed on the ground. Aftershocks rolled through her. The cessation of sound was shattered once again, with one last unholy scream. It ended abruptly when the blacksmith passed out.

“Dear, Holy, Merciful…..” Ileni ran out of platitudes and sank slowly into the grass.
Her entire insides felt twisted in fear and pain, as if someone had run an emotional sword through her solar plexus. Thoughtlessly placing a healing hand there, the warmth tingled through her, totally outside her consciousness awareness. It was hard to take her eyes off the twitching body in front of her.

An unsettling stillness echoed through the hillside, as if a backwash of non-sound rushed in to fill the place where the screams had rent the air. She gulped a great breathe of air into her shaky lungs. She shuddered, closed her eyes and concentrated with all the skills Old Freidric had taught her. Grant me guidance, I beg thee, Wise Three. Help me see what needs are here…. she shut out her thoughts and the world around her. Nothing. Nothing. She finally open her eyes and looked at the now still body of the blacksmith in front of her. She could see his chest rise and fall in the rhythmic motion of one in a deep, deep, unconscious sleep.

“There is nothing we can do for him…” she whispered softly. She repeated herself more loudly. “There is nothing we can do for him.” She looked towards the two that were left.

Last edited by GoldenFlight on 06-23-2001 at 07:24 AM

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Silver had healed quite well since his escape from the monastary, and was acting normal. (ooc: normal for him) he was preparing to go on another hike, to try and find some sign of humans. As he was wlkaing he heard something, it sounded soft, like sweet voice yelling and laughing at the same time. About 30 seconds later, the hills resounded with a giant yell. It sounded inhuman! But, yet it was so familiar. Then it hit him at once. That lady's coice. That must be Saere-ly! And that yell.....in Phens name only H'Dero could make that loud of a yell. Silver began screaming out for help

"In Phens name! Hear me Saere-ly! Hear me Blacksmith! I need you now!"

He repeated this as he began running towards where he heard the sounds. He stopped after running as far as he could, and once he had his breath he began to shout

"Saere-ly! Please sing your most beautiful song! Lead me to you!"

Silver sat down in frustration. It seemed there was no hope for him. Out of nowhere, a beautiful voice began singing. it was saere-ly. She had heard him.

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NPC: Goblin’s View


Pant…pant….Gormuk…brave! Gormuk take Orc boss knife. Pant…pant… Leathery, green feet slapped the floor of the tunnel leading out of the mine. …find….Mlak…. “Klik, klik, shlak, klik” The little goblin suddenly stopped and turned his head to one side. Sound. New sound. Eyes wide, it slid forward along the rough mine wall. Mlak follow Nagfoot last moon. Nagfoot go past early day. More sounds crept down the tunnel from the opening. The goblin frowned and scurried towards them.


“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
HHHHHGGGHHH!”

TALL-PEOPLE! Nagfoot bring Tall-people! The goblin jiggled in place. Orc boss be mad at Nagfoot! "Gleeeeeeek!" the goblin chortled. Slipping closer to the entrance, he watched the tall-people. Dark One scream like Orc Boss! Dark One fall dead! “Gleeeeeek!” The goblin danced. Dark One, Bad One dead dead dead! He danced in the opening of the mine, waving bony arms up and down. Suddenly he spotted the other one who’d been in the mine before. Lady Fire-Head! Pretty lady! Trying to decide whether to run out and grab her for the Orc boss again, he suddenly heard singing.

“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
SSSSSCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRR
RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK
!!!!!!!!!!!!!” The Goblin screamed as pain ripped through his head.

Blinding white light burst in Gormuk’s head and he fell to the floor of the opening, writhing in agony. He screeched over and over and over as the light grew brighter.

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OOC: Strudle!! We need nagfoot to say something!! PLZ!!

IC: Orc Boss:

Still looking down at the silent goblin with fierce eyes, the Orc Boss yet still awaited a reply. "Out with it nagfoot," the orc growled, reaching for his knife. What?! Where is it? The Orc growled low in his throat. Nagfoot cowered lower. Gormuk, again. Gormuk is dead The Orc Boss, after glaring at the quivering Nagfoot, roared for one of the goblin thieves. "BLORK! Get here!"


Goblin thief Blork:

Blork do bad thing. Orc Boss yell at blork. This time was Gormuk not Blork. Blork good this time. Blork not steal anything from Orc-Boss for ten fires! Blork looked at Nagfoot. Nagfoot scared of Orc Boss. All goblins scared of Orc Boss. Orc Boss have sharp sword and loud voice. Blork scared of Orc Boss too. The Orc looked at Blork and began in a low growl, "Blork, Gormuk has stolen my knife. You will get it back..." The Orc's eyes glowed a menacing yellow. Blork inturrupted, "Long shiney pointy red knife with shiney stone in middle?" The Orc, now irritated, replied, "Yes. Bring it. Now. Fail and I use THIS one on you! The Orc shook his longsword at the frightened goblin. "Go!"


Orc Boss:

As the Orc Boss saw the goblin running off, he growled an inhuman sigh, or at least an attempt at a sigh. It came out as more of a sputtering breath. Curse them. Curse them all. So stupid... stupid as newborn gnolls. Turning back to Nagfoot, the orc spat out, "Now, Nagfoot, speak now..."

Last edited by TheMatt2000 on 06-26-2001 at 02:14 AM

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NPC: Blork’s View

Blork ran down the passageways of the dark tunnels, chanting “Find Gormuk. Find knife. Find Gormuk. Find knife.” Blork good. Orc Boss happy. Blork live. Tunnels turned left and right and went uphill from the cavernous throne room. Sure-footed, Blork wound his way upward towards the last set of twisting mazes that led to the outside world. Blork hate light-world. Hate. Hate. Hate. Find Gormuk. He chanted again. Find Knife. Find Gormuk before light-world. Go fast Blork. Sniffing, Blork found Gorumk’s scent and followed it. It was rapidly dissipating in the air flowing in from the entrance. No! Not light-world. Gormuk go out…. Suddenly Blork heard horrific screeching.

“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
SSSSSCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRR

RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK

!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Gormuk dying! NO! Blork get knife first. Blork ran blindly forward. Get knife. Get knife. Blork live. He slammed into the shrieking goblin he was looking for. Both of them tumbled out of the entrance to the mine, Gormuk still screaming as if he’d never stop. Blork smashed into the ground and lay there panting. Get knife…get… Suddenly Blork’s head began to vibrate. Sound! New sound! Sound hurt… White light tore through Blork’s head and he began shrieking as loudly as his prey.

Last edited by GoldenFlight on 06-26-2001 at 05:58 AM

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Matthew, who had been drooping off again, suddenly jolted awake, again.

“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

SSSSSCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRR

RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK

!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Ugh. Too much screaming. With any luck some of that potion will help my ears...

It was unmistakably the shriek of a goblin in pain. By Phen, they must really be plowing through there...

Groggily, Matthew pushed some leaves away so that he had a clear look at the mine's entrance, and the clearing below it. Right as Matthew was getting a good look at the screaming goblin, another one slammed into it, and they both flew out of the entrance, falling with a loud THUD, almost next to the bush. I knew the blacksmith was mad, but isn't throwing the goblins a little too much?

“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

SSSSSCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRR

RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK

!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

He could have at least killed them first, Matthew thought as he attempted to shove some balled-up leaves into his ears. At that moment, the other goblin began to shriek. Matthew growled inwardly Thats...the...last...straw...I NEED SLEEP! Matthew grabbed his katana and crawled out of the bush on one knee, dragging his left leg behind. As he came close to the howling goblins, as he raised his katana, he bellowed, "QUIET!!!!!!"

With two slashes of his katana, all was quiet. Matthew almost kissed the hilt of his blade, and let out a very long sigh.

Matthew was about to head back to the bush when he noticed a flash of ruby red from one of the deceased goblin's hands. On closer inspection, it was a very expensive-looking knife, and was neatly sharpened. Hum. This one looks almost as good as mine. "Thanks," he mumbled to the dead goblin, as he crawled back into the bush, admiring the knife. Well, you can never have too many daggers. Matthew thought as he began to doze off...

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Screams, shouts, shrieks, singing, bellowing all roared through Ileni’s head as she sat on the ground by the blacksmith. Chaos swirled in the air around her. Cacophony of sound buffeted her from all sides. The blacksmith screaming. The shout from the forest. Silver! Saere’s vibrant response ringing through the air. Joy at the thought that Silver was found drowning in the high-pitched screech that inhibited mortal intellect. Followed closely by a second shrill goblin. Followed again by the sudden bellow for “QUIET” erupting from the bush near the mine. And lastly, followed, by the softly trailing notes of Saere’s last refrain. Then silence. Peaceful, blessed silence.

Blessed be, Norumen, Goddess of Peace. I thank thee. Ileni sighed as relief shuddered through her. And thank thee, also, Master Foxhead. Ileni thought with a slight nod in his direction. That was timely.

Ewyn, short sword out, was already more than halfway to the dead goblins, intent on checking them, when Ileni saw a glint of silver through the trees. Ileni rose, clumsily to her feet, in hope. Saere, light-footed child, had immediately swept gracefully in that direction, hands held out. One lost. One returned. She looked back at the blacksmith. And one lost again. She frowned. Was that wishful thinking on her part, or had she seen her friend start to stir?

Last edited by GoldenFlight on 06-26-2001 at 06:09 AM

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Candra had been walking through the forest to collect some mushrooms for dinner that night, when she heard a horrible sound. It had sounded like a man, but it was almost.....not human. Minutes later, there was another, a sound like she had nevr heard before!


“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS


SSSSSCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRR


RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE


EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK


!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Candra began to get scared, when she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her back. She looked down at her chest, and saw the bloody tip of a sword sticking out. She gasped, and slumped over and died.

Silver of Keldrin's View

Silver withdrew the sword from the woman, horrified at the horrible attrocity he had just committed. He couldn't understand why he did it. He soon began walking again, and forgot about the whole matter. The Curse of the Goblin was growing stronger....

"Ahh, hello Sister GoldenFlight, Why the long face?"

"The..the...blacksmith!"

"What happened to him?"

"I...I...don't know."

"He will be alright, hes just a little tense"

Silver smiled and wiped his bloody sword off in the grass, and then sat down on a rock. He looked over the small group and said:

"The moment the blacksmith wakes up, we continue on the quest!"

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Saere stood beside H'Dero, nursing his stricken body. He had bitten a good portion of the inside of his lip, and a small chunk was visible. She rolled down his lip and looked away as Ewyn reached in a cut it off. 'Ileni, c-come here p-please.' Saere stammered, feeling the warm blood flow over her hand.

Ewyn threw the flesh aside and poured a healing potion in the blacksmith's mouth. He wondered if they would ever reach the Mines, now that every member of the Fellowship was going slightly or completely mad, and one couldn't stop being joyful. Not to mention Sister Ileni, who looked as confused as an Elf out of Galar. 'It seems that our gods do not favour us as much as the scroll likes to say.' he mumbled, 'Norumen, save us now.'

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Ileni felt like her mind was shrouded in linen strips. As if there was a gauzy curtain between her and the world. She could perceive things happening around her, but could not form coherent thoughts about them. She existed and moved and breathed but could not think. Not clearly. It was very unsettling. She vaguely remembered this feeling, but could not remember when or where. That added to her unsettled state.

Silver is here. That is good. Ileni noticed with disinterest that he had blood on his sword. He wiped it off and sat down, nonchalantly on a rock. There was something about him that should have bothered her, but it couldn’t get past her blanketed mind.

She watched, apathetically as Saere and Ewyn attended to the blacksmith. 'Ileni, c-come here p-please.' Saere stammered. Ileni looked at Saere. Part of her struggling mind screamed at her to focus. Focus on Saere. She repeated the urgent thought over and over. She was dimly aware that Ewyn had taken over the healing process for the blacksmith. The part of her mind that could still see but not react, took it all in. Focus on Saere! It commanded. The thought grew stronger. Building... Saere. Growing... Saere. Stronger... Saere! Something ripped through the curtains in her mind. “The Quest!” she gasped. She shook her head to clear the gauzy shards. Her mind still felt foggy around the edges, but it was centered now. Centered on their mission, the quest. The determination that had always fueled her life came flooding back, renewing her comfortable sense of self-control. With a sharp intake of breathe, she tightened her shoulders and she reached for her pack full healing potions. Fernglenn’s Remembrance for me, and Nightthread for the blacksmith… She shuddered a little as she went back to the job she'd been trained to do.

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It seemed the curse was affecting everyone but the esquire. Silver was watching Lady Saere-ly and Ewyn attend to the blacksmith, when Sister Goldenflight suddenly gasped, "The Quest!"
Silver smiled and softly said, "Yes Sister, we are on the quest. I think you should lay down for a little while. You are not well."

An evil thought began pounding in Silver's head. Then he heard a voice..

"Yes Joseph Silvran.........you can hear me can't you? You must kill them all Silvran....they are your enemies......I know what you did to that little girl Silvran.....you are evil.....you deserve to die...but not more than they do Silvran...your worse than a goblin Silvran..."

Silver looked down at his hands and saw they were turning green. He tried to speak but all that came out was inhuman grunts....He was shaking....shaking......so.....bad...

Silver awoke to the healer shaking him.

"Wake up Silver! Silver wake up!" Sister GoldenFlight was practicaly screaming.

"What happened?"

"You fell asleep, and apparently were having a bad dream"

"Its not a dream.....its real..."

Silver took off his armor, and said to Illeni, "Goodbye."

With this, Silver unsheathed his dagger, and screamed into the air "Shatka! Norumen! Phen! HAVE MY SOUL!."

With that, he plunged the dagger deep into his chest, and fell to the ground. He looked up at Saere-ly, and closed his eyes.

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Last edited by SilverHorse on 07-02-2001 at 03:17 AM

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H'Dero's unconcious mind vented his destructive thoughts. Inside his mind he exited out of his dark possession and entered a more normal state. He opened his eyes. Blurry figures and the landscape presented itself around him as he focused.

The group had forgotten about H'Dero and was huddled around something else.

H'Dero groaned softly. His fists unclenched and he rolled onto his side, hoisting himself up with one arm. He looked over and saw the handle of his sword sticking up out of the grass. The past events suddenly hit him. He shook it off and sat up, rubbing his throbbing neck. "What's going on?" he called out, speaking somewhat softly.

Last edited by Rumble on 07-02-2001 at 05:17 AM

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"Wake up Silver! Silver wake up!" Ileni insisted. Silver was moaning and shaking in his sleep. Something was not right with her friend Silvran. His eyes opened, but comprehension was not apparent there.

"What happened?" he asked her.

"You fell asleep, and apparently were having a bad dream" She replied.

"Its not a dream.....its real..." his voice took on a strange, intense quality. His face looked both sad and determined. With his mouth set in grim lines, he took off his armor and told her, "Goodbye."

Without any warning to anyone in the group, Silver suddenly unsheathed his dagger, screamed into the air "Shatka! Norumen! Phen! HAVE MY SOUL!." and plunged the dagger deep into his chest, and fell to the ground. He looked up at Saere-ly, and closed his eyes.

“PHEN HAVE MERCY!” Ileni cried out and fell to the ground over him, uttering the strongest invocation for healing she knew. Ewyn had lept forward when his sharp eyes and equally sharp mind realized Silver’s intent. The Esquire was too late to stop Silver, but managed to cradle him on the way down. Ileni, oblivious to everything else around her, her once sluggish mind totally focused on her task at hand, whipped the cloak from around her and pressed it into Silver’s chest. Ewyn, hovered, hand ready to pull the dagger from Silver. At her sharp nod, he did so. Blood pulsed out as Silver breathed. He breathes! Thank You Three! She pressed with all her might on the cloak covering and sopping up the paladin’s deep red blood. She heard a muffled sound from Saere’s direction but could not stop to look.

“My pack…the purple vial….” She commanded Ewyn in a tense voice. Ewyn, quickly complied, even going as far as to unstop it for her. Ileni poured half the bottle into the open wound. Handing the vial to Ewyn, she said, “Please pour this into his mouth, slowly…” Continuing to press into Silver’s deep wound with her hands over her cloak, she closed her eyes and willed every once of energy she had into her hands. She intoned the prayers for the highest level of healing she had ever been taught. Time was of the essence now. The cost to herself was great, but the need was greater. If she was ever going to have a chance to heal this warrior, now was the only time.

Her chest burned. It hurt. Deep, stabbing pain erupted from within her chest and spread down her arms. She closed her eyes, as her whole body contorted. Sweat began to drip down her face, her lips caught between her teeth. She was vaguely aware of the salt-iron taste of blood in her mouth. The veins in her arms pulsated and bulged. Her lower arms and hands turned a deep, vibrant purple. She continued to shake, now chanting “Giver of Life, channel through me, heal Your child.” Over and over she chanted until gold light shot out the ends of her fingertips.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAgggggggghhhh
hhhhhhhhhhh” she screamed. The pain was so powerful she almost passed out on top of Silver. It felt like she was suspended for an eternity in an endless sea of pain. It buffeted her, wave after wave rolling through her. She kept her hands in place though, determination and calling combined to hold her there. She continued to shake until the glow subsided. As quickly as it had shot through her arms, it receded, leaving her limp and panting.

She slowly raised her head and opened her eyes. Silver was breathing shallowly, but the pulsating blood had stopped. The wound was sealed over, although red and angry. It would be a long time before Silver was fully healed, if he was fully healed.. She motioned Ewyn to her pack again, too tired to speak. She sat numbly as he found more linen strips and herbal salve and began to apply them to Silver’s wound. She nodded one look of encouragement, then crawled away on shaking hands and knees. She made it to the rock Silver had been sitting on, before she retched. She lay there, half-draped across the rock. Shaking, limp, exhausted. Sweaty hair drying in the breeze made her feel absolutely chilled. The shaking grew stronger. She curled up into a tight little ball and shook until she gained blessed unconsciousness.

Last edited by GoldenFlight on 07-02-2001 at 04:53 AM

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"Shatka! Norumen! Phen! HAVE MY SOUL!!!!!!!!"

Slowly sipping away at the vile tasting vial, Matthew was suddenly jolted back out of his partial sleep. There was the sound of metal on metal, soon followed by a sound that resembled "Shpluk"

“PHEN HAVE MERCY!” That was Sister Ileni's voice.

Too much shouting. Matthew need to kill something.

Shaking off the primitive thoughts of his sleep-deprived mind, Matthew put the potion and the other dagger back into their respective pockets. He managed to crawl out of the bush, then after a little bit of rolling and pushing, Matthew stood up.
Walking with a slight limp, as his leg was still in its makeshift splint. He took out his katana, ready to plow through thousands of goblins if it was necessary to keep the quiet. He hobbled around the bush, and tried to crouch down, so he could get a better view without being seen. His leg still hurt, so he shifted occasionally, trying to maintain his balance without crashing back into the bush.

The view from there shocked him out of his self-absorbed state.

There, on the ground, not too far away, lay the maniac who had ran out of the monastery shrieking like a goblin. Except there were two differences: For one thing, he wasn't wearing his breastplate, and for another, he had a dagger in his chest. Ileni, who was crouched on the ground right over him, nodded to the man who was standing over the wounded maniac.

There wasn't a single thought of himself in Matthew's mind as he watched what happened next.

The other man shot his fist down towards the limp body's chest, and yanked out the dagger, which flew through the air and landed, blade down into the ground, with a loud thud. With what seemed like a painful heave, the body breathed, and the other man appeared again with a large purple bottle in his hand.

A crystal violet potion! Matthew remembered back to when he was young. His mother taught him all about the different healing potions, as they came in several variants. Simple potions contained only enough magical power to heal a cut or cure a light cough, but no real power. A blue potion could heal something like a large rash or bruise, or tend to pulled muscles. A crystal blue potion could do everything that a blue potion could, but was much stronger, able to do things such as mend bruised bones. Sister Ileni had given Matthew one of these such potions for his broken leg. A violet potion, which was normally only carried by healers who accompanied troops to battles, could heal many injuries, from shredded flesh to shattered bones. A crystal violet potion, the strongest of all potions known to man, was used only on a man or woman who was about to die, as it did everything the violet potion did, but administered life energy into the one who needed healing, allowing them to live for a few more precious minutes.

If she is using a crystal violet potion, that must mean that the man is dying... Flashbacks came flooding back to Matthew as if they would never stop. Images of his mother using many of those potions on the defenders of Ethren, after assaults by evil creatures, some orcs, some ogres, some elves.

Now, Ileni poured half of the potion directly onto the limp form's chest. I remember something like this... As another flashback came into existence, ...Where the gatekeeper had a spear shot straight through his heart... Mother poured one crystal violet potion onto the wound, and another into his mouth... Then she had... As Matthew trailed off in thought, as if on cue, Ileni began muttering incantations. At that moment, Matthew knew that this would get ugly. He knew that when this powerful magic began, it was best to stay as far away as you could until it was over.

Ileni screwed her eyes shut, chanting the same words over and over again. Giver of Life, channel through me, heal Your child. Just like mother... But does Ileni have the same power as mother did... The question answered itself as Matthew observed what happened next: gold light suddenly shot through Ileni's fingertips, finding their way to the paladin's chest, and swirled into it. The skin there began to form, and the bleeding began to lessen. After this, mother moaned and grunted, and after it was done, she told me to keep the guard as warm as possible, and then she passed out for nearly an entire day. Ileni began to scream madly but kept her eyes and fingers focused on the chest of the wounded man. She began to shake, and her chest began to glow an angry red. Soon, she was surrounded in a dim red light. The veins in her arms pulsed and grew, and then began to turn gold colored, just like the healing spell that shot from her fingertips. After she finished, she made sure that the other man put various herbs from her pack onto the maniac’s wounded chest, shakingly crawled over to a rock, and vomited profusely, right before passing out.

Watching her pass out, shook Matthew into action. He knew he had to get to her and the wounded man, and fast. As he approached, a wary and defensive look shot from the eyes of the man who had pulled the dagger out. Desperately, Matthew said, "Don't worry! I'm a friend! Now, we need to get both of them warm," Matthew said as he pointed to Ileni and the limp body that was sprawled out. The man hesitated. Taking orders was getting old for him. Especially from what looked like a common thief. No time for this now... Ileni's magic may not have been strong enough… Matthew hopped over to the unconscious man, ignoring the pain in his leg. Sure enough, the man was very cold. "He's freezing! The blanket, please!" The wary man pulled a blanket from his pack. As the blanket settled over the paladin, Matthew hobbled over to Ileni's pack. In it, he pulled out two Blue Potions. Looking at the healer, crumpled up into a ball like a helpless animal almost brought Matthew to tears. No time for that now, though... Taking the two potions in his hands, he limped over to Ileni, then said, "Come on... Wake up... Don't pass out yet!" No response, but she was breathing. Shallowly, but still breathing. Good... Now... Open your hands to me... Almost as if Ileni had heard his thoughts, she flopped her two hands to her sides. Matthew rolled her over, so that the bottoms of her hands, and her face, were showing. There was a silver streak running through her hair, which began as a single line, but as it reached her forehead, it parted in two, as if branching down her arms. That’s new… Her hands were bright pink, as if they had been burned by the breath of a dragon several times over. They were still bleeding in some spots. Carefully, Matthew poured half of one potion on each of Ileni's hands, just as he had done with his mother's. He set the remaining bottle down next to her, for when she would wake up, she would need to drink all of it.

Receiving a wary glance from the man again, Matthew decided to ignore it, he sat down next to the healer, feeling protective for some reason, and for a long time, simply sat there, staring at her limp form, the silver streak, and her potion-covered hands. She'll probably have those scars forever... was the last thing Matthew thought before falling asleep against the hard stone.

Last edited by TheMatt2000 on 07-04-2001 at 07:00 PM

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NPC: goblin’s view

Sklanmurkd watched Blork scurry out of the Orc Boss’ throne room. His little, beady eyes narrowed in malice. “Sklanmurkd watched flame-lady. Sklanmurkd know something about flame-lady. Blork let flame-lady go.” The goblin had survived for a long time by sniffing out information and reporting back to the Orc Boss. He enjoyed being the number one goblin with power, next to the Orc Boss. There must have been some Orc blood in him, he always thought because he was smarter than the other goblins. Smarter than Blork, who let flame-lady get away. Still seething over his missed opportunity with the Orc Boss, Sklanmurkd decided it was time to pay Blork back.

“Follow Blork. Steal Knife from Blork who steals from Gormuk. Return knife for reward.” His yellow teeth glowed as he grinned in satisfaction. As a gatherer of information, Sklanmurkd had “discovered” various ways to kill that did not require weapons. Patting the stone chip he carried in a pouch at his waist, he padded softly after Blork.

He followed for a while, making sure he was one or two passages behind. Far enough behind that when Blork suddenly grabbed his head and started screeching, rushing out and tumbling Gormuk with him, he was unaffected. Mostly unaffected. Sklanmurkd felt vibrations in his chest and his whole body started to feel like he’d been poked with sticker-leaves. The pouch at his waist started to get uncomfortably warm. He heard a faint sound wending down from the mine entrance as well as screeching. Then abruptly, a tall-one voice screaming, “QUIET!”. Then nothing.

Sklanmurkd dropped to his hands and knees, flattening himself against the rough rock floor and crawled and slithered to the mine opening. He looked out, busy little mind recording details. He noted, half-dejectedly that both Blork and Gormuk were dead and that a dark tall-one walked off with the Orc Boss’s knife. “SKLKRKLK!” he muttered to himself. His active eyes took in the shiny one shouting and sticking himself and falling down. “Stupid tall-ones! Not wait until have to.” He watched the gray lady one shout and fall and turn funny colors. Then the dark-one-thief-of-Orc-Boss-Knife come back and sleep. “Shkkeleeerk.” Sklanmurkd seethed. Dark-one-thief is dead-one! He looked around at the others. Fire-lady back. He smiled. The Orc Boss will be happy to hear from Sklanmurkd. He suddenly noticed more movement in the tall-ones pack. He saw a big, dark, tall-one, sit up and rub his head. There was a sword in the ground next to him. Sharp eyes foucsed and he lost his smile. GOBLIN-KILLER!! Demon-Goblin-Killer back! He’d seen enough to report. Slithering backwards until he was well into the dark mine, he stood up, with one backward glance towards the opening, and ran for the throne room.

Last edited by GoldenFlight on 07-04-2001 at 07:39 PM

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OOC: We're putting nagfoot on hold

A few minutes of silence passed as the massive Orc peered intently into the scrawny goblin Nagfoot's eyes. Just as he was preparing to blast another roar into Nagfoot's face, Sklanmurkd came dashing into the Throne room at full tilt. The Orc's right hand goblin came running up to his ear, and whispered news intently. Sklanmurkd's beadly little eyes darted across to Nagfoot as he whispered, finally, "Nagfoot bring Demon-Goblin-Killer back!"

With a mighty roar, which shook a few stones loose, the Orc stood up to his full height, and bellowed, "THE GOBLIN-KILLER INVADES MY MINE?! As he finished standing up to his full height, Sklanmurkd backed away, grinning, and the Orc slammed the back of his hand into Nagfoot. The small goblin flew across the room, landing in a wall that oozed with gelatinous slime, and whimpered a slight "Schlurpeeeek."

The Orc bounded through the mines, like an enraged bull, scooping up every single goblin that he passed. By the time he reached the entrance to the mine, he had about a dozen goblins in each arm.

With the tall-people in sight, the Orc flung all of the goblins out of the mine, and thundered, "GOBLINS! FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
IIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!"

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Ewyn drew his sword as the mass drew closer. The metal rang as it slid out of the scabbard. He swallowed involuntarily, and, as always, the stump of his tongue moved and found no purchase in his parched mouth.

Saere drew her lute. It was her best weapon, but even fighting these little creatures made her feel sick.

The battered Fellowship could barely stand against the mob. Ewyn, Saere and the Quest were to be overwhelmed.

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'Ah, I see they are in trouble.'

'Call the cavalry, Sire?'

Taro, brother of the slain Caspian of House Caspian, stood in front of the massive might of the Army of Keldrin. He and his scouts stood upon the mighty hill, and he took a deep breath. 'Cavalry on my mark. Legionnes, FORWARD!'

The clanking of many armors froze the attacking goblins. More streamed out and every form of orc, troll and gnoll staggered out of the low entrance.

Screams and battle cries rang out as the white plumed cavalry charged on magnificent steeds. The armor they bore glinted and the blessed swords rang and clashed. Caught flat footed, the Green and Black Army stood dumbly as the White Army of Keldrin attacked.

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Pain drifted through Ileni’s dreams. Her hands hurt, her chest hurt and she wondered dimly why her bed felt so hard today. She just wanted to sleep. …sleep….must…sleep.. She tried to roll over but her bed started shaking. Ileni groaned in her head, and her unfiltered thoughts bobbed on the surface of consciousness, “….Phen Blast Sister Eglantine! Stop shaking my bed!” Little bubbles of anger started to burst, bringing her more fully awake. “UH!!” Ileni tolerance for the foibles of others was amazingly vast, except in one area. Anyone impeding her hard-won sleep was at risk; depending on the depth of her need and how far into the dark memories of her nightmares she had sunk. Most of the good priests and sisters knew this. Eglantine never noticed. The hard bed shook more and it sounded like a herd of galloping horses was thundering through her room. Curse her big feet….get her out of room, now! Get OUT NOW!

“UUUUUUH!” Ileni sat up abruptly, eyes bloodshot, hair in wild disarray around her face. Through gritty eyelids she saw what looked like hordes of goblins clashing with men on horses. Still ensnared in the black tendrils of her tormented childhood nightmares, what she saw was a continuation of those lifelong dreams played out in front of her. Screams, blood, swords glinting, arms and legs thrashing, wild sounds of terror from man and horse and beast. Fallen…so many fallen….parents….fallen…..

“NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” burst out of from the depths of her soul. “NOT AGAIN! NOT EVER!” She rose to her feet, eyes glowing fanatically. Her limbs, already shaky from lack of sleep, shook even more violently from the force of her emotion. She swayed, teeth clenched, face set, eyes burning with a forceful stare. Something inside her was building, something from the bottom of her fears and anger..it grew and twisted and shot up inside her. COLD. ICE COLD. She could feel it coursing from inside her stomach and out through her arms, stiffening her limbs as it slid through. Instinct, hurled her arms over her head. It drove a guttural scream from the back of her throat .. she was no longer in control. The ice thing inside her had taken over and was focusing whatever energy she had her hands. Her hair danced in the crackling energy surrounding her hands. She could hear it. Her fingers curled into claws and suddenly she lunged forward, throwing every once of herself into the thing above her head. She poured herself into the thing as she flung it, nay, flew with it, into the heart of the battle.

The ice sphere burst above the goblins, splintering into a hundred shards of ice that sliced jaggedly through the greenish-black skin. Tormented screams erupted and green blood oozed
from weakened goblins. The orcs and gnolls and trolls behind them were made of stronger stuff. The battle was only beginning.

A backwash of cold coursed through her veins, flowing back up her arms and into her stomach. If she’d had any energy left, she would have heaved on the spot. Drained, limp, still half-asleep, she slumped back down to the ground and continued to watch the nightmare around her. Her mind was as numb as her limbs.

Last edited by GoldenFlight on 07-08-2001 at 09:37 PM

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WHUMP! THUMP! WHUMP THUMP! WHUMPATHUMPATHUMPATHUMPA

Ughh. Too much noi- MERCIFUL PHEN!

Matthew Foxhead, still a little dazed, a little sleepy, suddenly felt a surge of pure adrenaline rush through his system.

Standing at the entrance to the mine was an enormous orc, who suddenly shouted in an almost understandable voice, "GOBLINS! FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
IIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!"

After literally throwing a few dozens of goblins out of the mine, the large orc retreated back into the mine, but swarms of goblins began pouring out of the mine like a punctured dam spilling water. It looked as if there were thousands of goblins. There were gnolls, trolls, and orcs scattered in amongst the sea of goblins, but the large one was nowhere to be seen. Well, mother, father, I'll be joining you soon! Standing up, the pain in his leg was completely gone, as he had finished the entire potion, but it was still a little stiff and hard to bend. With a solemn face, set with determination, Matthew withdrew his katana. Just then Matthew spotted, a flood of gleaming white that came up and over the same hill that he had travelled over. An avalanche...? But there's no mount... As realization crossed Matthew's mind, he suddenly grinned.

The sea of gleaming white, was actually an army of glimmering armor and weaponry. That must be Taro, and he's brought his brother's army, too. The flood of green and black almost came to a dead halt.

Matthew stood there, demonically grinning, holding out his katana, while suddenly at least a hundred horsemen rode right past, shouting their battle cries and raising their swords and shields. Their armored steeds put their heads down and literally bashed into the goblins, sending a few blobs of green ooze flying.
Their swords sliced right throught the green army, but then the horsemen reached the orcs. The orc slammed their hammers into the horsemen, and the they fell off their steeds.

Right behind him, Matthew heard Ileni stir. Stir, of course, was putting it mildly. NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! NOT AGAIN! NOT EVER!” Bolting upright, with a bellow that startled a few of the army's nearby spearmen, Ileni's eyes began to glow an angry red. Whoa! Ileni suddenly thrust her hands up over her head and began to violently shake.

A flashback took Matthew back to Ethren where he remebered seeing the dark wizards perform similair acts, but they had much more control.

Ileni screamed out, then lunged foreward. Matthew slammed into the ground to avoid a collision. As she lunged, icy wind shot from her hands, and began swirling around, forming a ball of pure ice inbetween her hands. As she began to fall, the ice ball launched iself into mid air, and Ileni came down with a THUD.

Looking up, and spitting out dirt, Matthew saw the icy sphere fly over the clashing armies, and then it shattered. The ice flew down, harmlessly clanking off the horsemen's armor, but ripping through the goblins, killing a few.

Ileni almost landed on top of Matthew, but he rolled over in time. The ground around Ileni felt very cold. As Matthew looked up, he saw the old man from the monastery, as well as his healers.

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NPC: Old Freidric’s View

Riding at the back of the army with Young Timac at his side, Old Freidric wondered why he had allowed the army into his monastery and now was riding with them. Well, very behind them, anyway. He chuckled ruefully, earning a quizzical look from Young Timac. He sighed. I really am getting too old for this.

As they crested the hill, he saw that Taro Caspian had already charged into battle. Horses reared, swords flashed, battle cries, grunts, moans, dying sounds filled the air around the entrance to the mine. Swords clanked on rusty knives. Goblins gibberish and monster roars from the orcs cleaved the air. Men shouted encouragement and orders. “Over here! Behind you! Keep going!” The scent of blood wafted up. Bright-red patches of iron-blood and black-green splotches dotted the area. Horns rising above helmets pinpointed the location of various monsters. Indistinct grunts from Trolls mixed with the solid thuds of bodies clashing. Shaking his head and muttering more prayers for protection and blessings, Old Freidric turned his attention to the group that was vital. So far the Fellowship was untouched. For now. “They must be moved!” he yelled to Timac. Urging his sluggish mount over to the group, Old Freidric arrived just it time to see Ileni surge to her feet. The black magic gathered in her hands caused his old bones to twinge. Young Timac, coming up behind him, gasped in shock. “Stay, Timac.” Old Freidric threw out an arm to stop him. Old Freidric had known this was coming, from the incident with the goblin in the kitchen. They watched silently as a storm of ice flew over the heads of the soldiers and shattered, slicing through goblin skin. Dismounting quickly, for one so old, he was followed by Timac. Dire consequences, indeed.

He managed to reach Ileni, seeing her blank eyes turn numbly towards him. Directing Young Timac, they both quickly shielded the entire group, including the black-haired youth sprawled on the ground next to Ileni. The other healers that had come with them, were now approaching. Directing half of them to fall back behind the rocks, he motioned the older ones toward the Fellowship. The blacksmith looked like he needed attention. As did Sister Goldenflight. He felt Young Timac suddenly stiffen, then shout urgently, “Sir, here!” The Songstress was pointing at a fallen paladin…Silvran. The Esquire, standing vigilant, looked fiercely determined to protect the group. A quick nod in his direction, and Ewyn turned back to face the horde, ready to defend. Old Freidric could see that Silver of Keldrin had been seriously injured, almost fatally. Healing had begun here. He saw the remains of the purple potion beside Silver. Ileni’s work, no doubt. he grimaced. Hands out, Old Freidric began to chant instinctively while searching for the magnitude of the wound. “Gold potion” he commanded Timac. A vial was placed carefully in his hand. Downing half of the potion himself, he forced the rest into Silver’s mouth. He placed his hands squarely on the paladin’s chest and invoked the highest level of healing known. Calling on Blessed Norumen for assistance, Old Freidric gave himself up to the healing. Timac stood by helplessly as he saw his mentor drain himself into the paladin. If the injury is fatal, we shall lose them both! Young Timac worried.

Last edited by GoldenFlight on 07-09-2001 at 04:44 AM

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NPC: Foot Soldier

'Cavalry on my mark. Legionnes, FORWARD!'

Tom Nerlank surged forward with the rest of the army. He thought briefly of his wife and little Tom-Tom. His feet pounded the ground. His sword felt heavy. His leather armor snug and reassuring. Tugging on his chain mail helmet he roared, hoping to sound fierce and frightening. Lewin the Sound next to him roared in response. A momentary grin shared between them spurred him on. He brandished his sword high in the air, tucked his head down and charged at the Goblin heading his way. All thought fled. Slash! Clank! Turn. Slash! Turn. Thrust. Slash. Sweat dripped into his eyes. One last upward thrust and the goblin fell. He pulled out his sword, now dripping with gelatinous green-ooze and felt a rush of elation. He roared again, deep in his throat and charged again, this time at an Orc. “AAAARRRRRRRRRRR” he growled lifting his sword high to slash it down on his foe’s neck. “UUUUUUUUUUUUUH” cold steel sliced through his insides. Cold and hot clashed in his stomach. Time stopped. Feeling stopped. He looked down to see a rusty sword protruding from his stomach. The world tilted. His last sight was the leering face of gnoll. “Beth…..Tom-To…” His dead eyes never saw his friend’s head roll by, chopped clean off by the Orc’s battle axe.

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Joseph slowly opened his eyes. He was laying on the hard ground, surrounded by healers. The eldest, Old Freidric, was bent over him, obviously putting every last bit of power the poor man had into Silver's body. Without getting up, Silver turned his head. He saw that more healers were healing the entire party, and that only himself and Illeni were left. Silver suddenly turned and glared at the old healer who was healing him, and brandished his sword. With one quick slice, he beheaded the goblin who was about to attack the healer. Silver suddenly felt rejuvenated, as the healing was complete. He stood, and saw a scene of utter carnage. There were goblins, orcs, gnolls, trolls, and more pouring out from the mine, and the Keldrin Army was fighting them. Silver looked at Young Timac, and quietly said
"Get Illeni healed, and then move the group somewhere safer than here."
Silver then charged bravely towards the battle, sword brandished and ready.


NPC View, Horsemen:
Arthur Mucko quickly stopped his horse, so he could assess the situation so far. It seemed the Keldrin Army was winning the battle, but not without heavy casualties. He looked to the right and saw an orc charging. He turned his horse and charged it. The orc, confused with this, stopped in its tracks. Arthur silently laughed and stabbed the beast in the neck. He withdrew his sword, and looked up. He saw a glint of silver running towards the battle. the face was recognizable immeidieatly. It was Joseph Silvran, a member of the quest. And what Arthur saw next scared him. A gnoll was about to slice down into Silver's head, and Silver did not even notice it. Arthur quickly yelled "Yah!" And the horse took off. Just as the gnoll was about to slice, Arthur jumped off his horse and tackled it. He fought with it hand to hand before a gleaming rapier was poked through the gnoll's heart. Arthur looked up and smiled, seeing Joseph Silvran's face.

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"Thank you, kind sir," Matthew said to one of the healers who had fully mended his leg, so that it was no longer stiff. It had only taken a few seconds and very little energy. Matthew looked over to where the crazy paladin had been, then looked around. Sure enough, he had joined the fray. He's crazy allright... Matthew grinned inwardly. He then looked over at the old man, who he had heard called "Old Fredric." He looked just as weak as Ileni did after healing the paladin. Goblins were coming in on their position, their crooked knives seeking flesh to rip. These people need defending! Whipping out the two daggers that he had in his possession, Matthew lunged at the twin goblins. The first dagger, which he himself had made, sliced clean through the frist goblin's right wrist, knocking the knife out. The second dagger ripped jaggedly through the second goblin, sending green slime everywhere.

I'm glad H'Dero is here... We're all going to need a lot of help very soon! We're gonna be the only ones defending the healers!

Putting his own dagger away, Matthew whipped out his katana, and tossed the jagged dagger into his left hand. Running back to the now-retreating healers, Matthew felt quite energetic. Must be adrenaline. An orc approached, running full speed towards Matthew, who grinned. It paused the moment it saw the dagger. A moment is all I need! Matthew threw the dagger towards the orc, with a slight spin to it...

Last edited by TheMatt2000 on 07-09-2001 at 05:50 PM

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H'Dero stood up. He stood frozen as the historic battle began. Gaping at the most horrific sight he ever would view. Weaponry. Blood. Armour. Screams. Reality flew back into his mind and his fists clenched.

Goblins... he thought Goblins.... He began to hyperventilate as his fists began to shake. Goblins... he thought again. His thoughts ripped out of his mind and came out in words. "GOBLINS!" he screamed insanely. " AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
HHHHHGGGHHH!!!!!"

He let out a monstrous scream. His pupils turned into fire. Burning sweat dripping down his face he felt around his belt to find his sword. Thrusting the gleaming blade out he began to charge. " AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
HHHHHGGGHHH!!!!!!!!" he screamed again, tears beading in his eyes.

He sprinted the distance in what seemed a few seconds. He rammed into the horde from the side. Holding his blade out he absolutely mangled the closest goblin.

" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
HHHHHGGGHHH!" He screamed again. The mad adrenaline pulsated through every inch of his body. He spun around, blade hanging low. He grabbed a goblin by the neck and crushed it's throat. He cleaved a gnoll's head. He kicked an orc in the throat. He felt like he was burning with possessive madness, fueled by his ambition of vengeance.

He was stabbed in the back. The sensation of pain ripped into his mind.

" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
HHHHHGGGHHH!" he screamed again...

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Ileni felt renewed strength flow through her. Her head cleared and she seemed to finally snap awake. Taking a big breath and shaking her head, she felt herself throw off the last vestiges of exhaustion. Mind alert and eyes alert once again, she realized she had been healed by some of her peers from the monastery. Looking around, she saw Young Timac bent over someone with a flowing white beard. Freidric? Ileni scrambled over to where he lay, propped up against a rock. His face was grey, eyes closed, breathing shallow. She could see Timac carefully administering healing potion, his own cloak draped over the limp figure. “Timac….” She questioned quietly, laying a hand on Young Timac’s shoulder. She felt, more than saw, Timac flinch away. She looked at him questioningly. Just then, Old Freidric stirred. His eyes opened and he lifted a hand towards her. Taking his hand gently with hers, she saw him smile weakly. “Ileni…” he began faintly. Young Timac glared at her and said testily, “He just administered a healing to Silvran. He needs to rest!” “Psssfht!” Old Freidric admonished and waved him off. Timac snorted, but heeding his mentor, left to join the other healers now tending to wounded soldiers. Freidric and Ileni watched him go. “He’s a fussy old maid, but he means well, “ Old Freidric voiced, with a chuckle, his cheeks looking pinker. Ileni looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Well, child. Your day of reckoning has finally occurred.” He looked at her seriously. Ileni stared back, smile fading. Something in his eyes, the eyes that saw so much of the world, sent warning signals along her nerves. The air between them seem to snap, charged with tension. She could sense something significant was about to change between them. The moment hung heavy in the air. It seemed to stretch forever. Behind them, the sounds of battle continued. Muted, except for an occasional muffled shout. There was an unreal quality to situation…battle in the background, blue sky, green grass, soft breeze. The wind lifted her hair. Old Freidric reached out and touched her new white streaks. Smiling grimly, while fingering her hair, he murmured, “The price of magic…” She continued to stare, searching, waiting….

Suddenly someone shouted: “The blacksmith! Get to H’Dero!” and rushed past.

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The blacksmith was flailing his arms and screaming at the pack of healers that had descended on him.

“Get off me! I’ve got Goblins to kill!” Ileni waded through the healers, and told the oldest, Josef, she’d take over. Josef looked relieved. Pulling out a blue healing potion, she thrust it at the blacksmith and said, “Drink this!” while she moved to his back, and started to pour healing through him.

H’Dero hastily swallowed the potion, swiped his hand across the back of his mouth, and stood up with Ileni trailing behind him. He flung the vial away and shook his sword in the air. “WAIT! You big lummox! I’m not done!” He paused long enough for her to get a shield around him before he went screaming back down the hill and into action.

“GO!” she yelled after him, and rolled her eyes mentally. How many more times am I going to do that for him? She wondered, then looked around for the rest of the group.
Where is The Esquire and ...young Foxhead?

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*SSShhhhhhzzzzooooooommmmmmm*

The spinning dagger swished clean through the orc's arm, neatly chopping off his battle axe-wielding arm, and landing right next to the orc's oozing arm. Leaping up, Matthew swung towards the orc, landing a forceful kick to it's stomach. Unfortunantly, it's left arm was still there. It swung a few powerful punches towards Matthew, who intercepted them with his katana. The result was a bent sword.

"YOU BROKE MY BLADE!!!!! SONOFAN OGRE!!!!!" Matthew, clearly enraged, punched the orc's nose, then grabbed its axe with his left land, dropping his katana. Gripping the orc's 6 foot tall weapon, he attempted to slam the axe into the orc's heart. Because it was so heavy, it actually fell between the orc's legs, so Matthew heaved up with all his might. The axe cleaved right through the orc like a rapier through a cooked pig. Half of the orc fell to the right, half fell to the left.

I like this war already! A new dagger, now a new axe! Matthew now looked at the axe with admiration. He put his bent katana back into his robe, along with his jagged dagger. I wonder where H'Dero is... I'll need my katana fixed. Matthew, with a full faced grin, set off at a run towards the group of healers.

Last edited by TheMatt2000 on 07-10-2001 at 04:54 AM

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