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Back to Empire on the HPe3000
... and ...
Nosnra swayed, he nearly fell, all around him lay unconscious
bodies of his fallen warriors. The howling of the magic spell increased
and in a flash of blue the cave collapsed. The forces had proved more than
stone and rock could bear. A wave of of air, speckled with a glowing line
of sparkling blue, rolled out. It washed across the clearing and
crested high above the chieftains head. He leaned into the wind and let
his body rest against its strength. His hair blew back and its color
bleached away, Nosnra screamed, his mouth opened wide, the flesh across
his face rippled but any sound he made could not fight free and died
unsounded behind his tongue.
* * *
"Yee!" the halfing screeched and rolled across the floor. A
stinging pain slapped him against the leg. Harold sprinted for the
eastern arch, a half dozen spikes caught him as he ran, three cut
all to close, one struck the leather vest he wore and barely scratched his
skin, but two sunk deep into his arm. He groaned, and another spike
caught him in the leg.
"Harold!" Gytha yelled. The ranger grabbed the bars and heaved,
the massive portcullis did not budge.
* * *
"What did you find?" Ivo asked the mercenary pair.
"Nothing." said Edouard.
"A waste of time." chimed in Derue. "That giant chiefs armory,
nothing but swords longer than I am tall and shields big as a wagon bed."
"Some nice fur hides." Edouard said. "but it seems we will be
busy carrying that." he pointed to the map that Talberth and Telenstil
were busy rolling up.
Talberth puffed as he hefted the rolled map from off the floor.
"This thing must weigh a ton." he told to Telenstil.
"You are out of shape. You spend too much time in books." the elf
had a wiry strength and moved the rolled map aside with ease.
"Show off." Talberth mumbled when Telenstil had walked on by.
"Ivo," Telenstil asked. "Time to retrieve our wayward thief."
the elven mage looked toward the hidden door left open along the western
wall. "I will secure this in the fireplace," he tapped the rolled up map,
"no need to put another hole in Nosnra's roof."
* * *
Harold nearly fell, he had not been this badly hurt in years.
The iron-barred arch seemed far away, his leg felt stiff and reaching down
he felt the sharp point of the manticore spike sticking through his thigh.
His hand was red, he hated blood, it should be flowing through his veins,
not dripping on the floor.
A fierce determination warmed him and wiped away the pain. He ran,
the manticores howled, but now out of range they threw their hollow darts
against the northern wall.
The rangers hand reached out and plucked Harold from the ground
and pulled him through the iron bars. "Gytha, quick, heal him." Harald
said and put the wounded halfling in her arms.
"I can stand. I am not a child." Harold said. Gytha put him down.
Harold stumbled, a cold clammy sweat soaked his brow. "Well, maybe I can't.
Gytha, that healing sounds like a good idea."
* * *
(To Be Continued)