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Back to Empire on the HPe3000
... and ...
This is a story set in the World of Greyhawk. It is based upon
my own campaign so many of the persons, places and things may be different
from published material.
I'd like to get a review of the story so any helpful comments
or suggestions are very welcome. The same is true for the other story
I am currently working on "An Unsung Death in Geoff", anyone who would
like to review a copy of that can email me and I will email it along.
Jason Zavoda
Telenstil had elf-handled the map over to the chimney and used
a spell to rise with it up to the roof far above. The stones were layered
with soot but the chimney was immense, he had no trouble staying to the
center away from the blackened walls. At its top a large flat rock capped
the opening but the sides were vented, more than space enough for the
elf to step through. He left the map floating in mid-air, the spell would
last for quite some time.
To the east of him smoke was billowing out, luckily the wind was
blowing in that direction, away from where he now stood. The yard below
was filled with giants, they were busy trying to stop the blaze. Huge
buckets of water were being brought by hand from inside the main building,
while in the yard, giants were digging with pick and shovel, throwing
spade-fulls of dirt against the burning logs. A steady rain beat down, and
the wood was always damp, more smoke than fire was produced.
"Good." Telenstil said to himself. The maximum of confusion but
he did not want the steading destroyed, not yet.
A gonging alarm beat out a steady rhythm but it was muffled by the
high peak of the great halls roof. Telenstil stood on its most northern
edge, on the opposite side the guard tower had only a blind wall but would
be out of sight in any case because of the blocking peak of roof.
Around the corner lay their bags and the hole cut through the
beams over Nosnra's trophy hall. Telenstil trotted off to retrieve his
pack. A small but thick and dark plume of smoke rose from the square hole
that his magic had burned through the wood. The smoke must fill the hall
below, the elf thought. "Better and better." he said.
Most of the packs were fairly small, they had brought just
the bare minimum of supplies. This was only a quick raid, not a long
campaign, but a small voice spoke from a pendant on his chest, "Veer-Res"
it said,
"Guests" Telenstil voiced aloud. These supplies might be all they
had, a ward had gone off back at their camp. He touched the pendant and
said "Var-Tio" but it did not respond. That was bad, he thought.
The rain was cool and the wind was shifting south. Telenstil
grabbed three bags, Talberth's, Ivo's and his own. He would leave them by
the map then go back and gather the rest, so that they could depart in
haste when the others returned.
* * *
"Hand him up to me." Edouard bent down and took the halfling from
the old ranger. "Derue, go up the next stair and I will hand him to you."
"Right," said the scout, always quick to obey his brothers
commands.
"What am I." complained the halfling. " A sack of grain."
"A sack of grain wouldn't weigh half this much." Derue said.
"Or be so noisy." Edouard added. He climbed to the next step and
the two brothers took turns, from one hand to the other, passing the
halfling up the stairs.
"What's this?" Ivo said as they returned. The two scouts were
performing a strange ritual, one would climb the stair, then turn,
and then the other would race ahead up the next stair and do the same.
"They're playing..." Harold said as he was handed up. "Toss the
halfling...."
"Is he hurt." Ivo asked.
"Only my pride..." Harold called out.
* * *
(To Be Continued)