Send a spelling or grammar correction to: Tracy Johnson
This site sponsored by Agenda Games LLC
Back to Empire on the HPe3000
... and ...
"I'd rather not go back in there." Harold said and rubbed at his
arm.
"The manticores are dead." said Gytha. "Do not worry."
"What do you need me in there for then?" the little thief stood in
the corridor and peered round the door into the cavernous room.
"The other gate is shut. We need you to find a way to open it."
Gytha put her hand on Harolds arm, he flinched. "Still hurts?" she asked.
"No." Harold put his left hand against his right upper arm where
the manticores spikes had pierced. "No it feels fine now, but it's like
the spikes are still there, sometimes, when I don't think about it."
"Hmmm...your wounds should be healed." Gytha looked at him. "But
I see that you are serious about this pain. Harold, the Saint has healed
your wounds out here." she gave his arm a pat. "You do not have the faith
so the pain remains in here." she tapped his chest over his heart. "I
suspect that when the time has passed that would have seen nature heal
your wounds, then the pain you feel will pass as well."
"Oh great, you fill me with hope and joy when you tell me things
like that." Harold complained.
"Harold." the ranger said. He came from the room and looked down
at the halfing. "Come on, Telenstil has cleaned out those beasts good and
proper. We need a way into their pen, if we're going to escape from this
dungeon."
"Stop pestering, the both of you." Harold glanced from the ranger
to Gytha. "Let's see this gate that needs lifting."
Inside the room Ivo and Telenstil were in deep conversation pacing
across the floor. The two scouts stood near to the southern gate and
Edouard used his newly gained spear to prod the black charred bodies of
the manticores through the bars which blocked off the two rooms. Henri sat
crosslegged in a far corner of the room, his face to the wall, meditating,
or simply ignoring all the others.
"Telenstil!" Harold called. The halfing ran over to the mage.
"Harold, good, we need your skill." said Telenstil. "Let us see
what we can do with this gate."
"Raise it hopefully." said Ivo.
They walked over to the southern wall and had the scouts stand
back.
"Ye gods this place stinks." said Harold.
Ivo sniffed the air. "It is more than just burnt flesh, what was
this, the giants garbage dump?"
"Perhaps." said Telenstil. "Look toward the center of the room."
They peered through the metal bars. "That is a midden heap. The manticores
have smeared it across their floor."
"I've never heard that they were over clean," said Ivo, "but this
is a sorry state for any beast."
"Come then." said Harold. "I want to make this quick. Telenstil do
you have some magic to take away this awful smell?"
"Here, said Ivo, "take this." He handed the thief a brightly
colored handkerchief.
"Is it magic?" Harold held it carefully.
"No but I kept some herbs in it, tie it around your nose and it
will distract you from the other smells."
Harold took a cautious sniff and sneezed. "I don't know which is
worse," then he caught the scent of the rotting garbage on the floor,
"you're right, that room is worse." He tied the cloth around his face.
* * *
(To Be Continued)