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Back to Empire on the HPe3000
... and ...
This could not be, Burrfoot could not believe his senses, this was
the place of cool-drinking, but now it roared at him and spat. His ears
heard the rushing water, he smelled the scent of silt pulled from a
riverbed, tasted the wet mist, felt the rumble of boulders and mighty
tress carried along, tumbling over and over. First to arrive, he felt
alone, Burrfoot backed away, his tail between his legs, then at a safe
distance he howled out his distress.
* * *
"Curses," Talberth swore and kicked at a stone. "We didn't even
make it to the walls."
"How many have returned?"
"All but our thief and ranger and Ivo." Talberth said.
"Someone comes!" Edouard cried from the caverns mouth. "Its our
thief. He's floating along like a big fat bee."
"What!?" Talberth exclaimed, "This I have to see."
Outside the cave, a tall mans height above the ground, came their
halfling thief and friend. He seemed to fly, but in the most strange and
awkward way. He'd bound forward a good few feet, then shake, jarred up and
down, then fly again.
"That is bizarre." Talberth said.
Telenstil just laughed. "Both our scouts return. Now where is our
good master gnome."
At the caverns entrance the halfing stopped and levitated to the
ground. He grabbed his stomach and groaned, then with careful steps, so as
not to jar his aching sides, he entered in.
"ohhh!" Harold cried. "Misery, misery, he's shaken me up
inside."
"Listen to him complain." a spectral voice declared.
"Harald is that you?" Talberth asked. "Why don't you appear?"
"I don't know how." the voice complained. The halfing gave a
laugh them grimaced at the pain from his bruised sides.
* * *
Ivo walked along the trail and as he did he weaved small
distorting spells. He made nine shadows that always had their backs
to those who watched and placed them on a patch of rock far off the
path. If any approached them they would seem to slip away and run off
toward the south. Then with a disc of bronze in one hand and an iron rod
in his other, he cast a spell upon the trail, and where the bronze and
iron metal touched they liquefied and formed a pool. It glowed and
gave off a sharp metallic smell and then was gone, absorbed into the dirt
and rock, but waiting for the next passerby to step within its sphere.
Time was passing and his companions would be worried, he cast just
two more spells to hide and misdirect their foes, then he hurried on,
walking fast for home.
* * *
"Where can he be." Gytha asked the elven mage.
"He is safe, Ivo is a master of his craft," said Telenstil.
"do not worry, I have seen him disappear for days, then on his return
explain away his absence as idle curiosity."
"He wouldn't go for days." Gytha said surprised.
"Oh no, not when on a campaign such as this, no." Telenstil
reassured. "I mean to say that our gnomish friend follows his own course
and council. He is a greater mage than I, though his craft is less
direct."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Master Ivo weaves spells of light and dark, they fool the eye
and confuse the mind, and sometimes are real. His is the way of illusion,
mine, well I am a journeymen to all the magic crafts."
"And master of none." Gytha concluded.
"A fledging master of one or two." Telenstil laughed. "The
benefits of great age, I knew master Ivo's grandsire when he was young."
And as he talked the gnome in question appeared before their eyes.
"How long have you been back?" Gytha asked with glee, then frowned
to scold the greyhaired gnome. "Thats rude, listening in on what we've
said."
* * *
(To Be Continued)