Send a spelling or grammar correction to: Tracy Johnson
This site sponsored by Agenda Games LLC
Back to Empire on the HPe3000
... and ...
This is a first draft of a story set in the world of Greyhawk.
It is based on a home campaign so some of the people, places and things
may be different. Any helpful comments or suggestions are very welcome.
Thanks
Jason Zavoda
"What was that?!" asked Ghibelline the elf. He had backed away
when the cleric entered the cell and remained unnoticed while she cast
her healing prayer over Edouard.
"Gytha! Are you all right?" Telenstil tried to go to the cleric's
side but Derue roughly shoved him out of his way.
"Edouard!" he said and ignored Gytha who staggered up, dazed, on
unsteady feet.
"Brother." Edouard spoke. "Where am I? What has happened here?"
"You are in the giants cells, I don't know how you came here, but
you were badly injured." Derue told him.
"I feel fine," he said. Edouard felt his chest and jaw. "But I do
remember great pain, it was like a dream. Derue! Where is my armor, my
sword!" he grabbed his brothers arms so tightly that the links of Derue's
own chain shirt bit into him like metal teeth.
Telenstil held Gytha up by the shoulders, she shook her head,
then steadied herself. Reaching out she gave the elf's shoulder a squeeze,
then took the metal rod from where it rested against the wall. She leaned
upon it and seemed to take strength from the black iron, recovering from
her brief daze.
"Thank you." she said.
"Come, let us step from here and let Derue and Edouard speak."
Telenstil lead her from the cell. "And you sir, who are you?" he asked the
elf who followed them.
Gytha turned, a bit surprised, she had been aware that someone
else had been in the cell, but had not taken note of who or what he was.
The elf looked worn and his injuries, old and new, showed plain.
"I am Ghibelline of Derelion." the elf said, then pointed toward
the door behind them. "And this is Jalal-ud-din of Zeif, Master Builder,
and my friend."
Telenstil and Gytha both turned to look at the small old man,
he placed his hands together and bowed deeply at the waist.
"I am Telenstil and this is Gytha, one of Saint Cuthbert's
staunch followers." said Telenstil. "I have many questions for both of
you, but this is not the place."
"Will you take us with you?" asked Ghibelline.
"Of course," said Telenstil. "I would not leave anyone in the
hands of the giants."
"Gracious Elf." spoke up Jalal. "If that be true I must ask you
for your help. There are others held captive, they have worked alongside
me and one I hold dear to me as kin."
"We will see what can be done." said Telenstil. "For now there are
others, my companions, who we must rejoin. Then we can speak and discuss
how to help your friends."
As they spoke a commotion rose from the cell, then Derue backed
out, his hands before him. Edouard followed, his pale face was red and he
shouted and pushed at his brother.
"...done with it." Edouard yelled.
"Nothing, it was gone, Edouard, gone when I found you." Derue
protested.
"No!" it can't be." Edouard shouted. "I can't hear it anymore,
what have you done with it?"
* * *
The wolves could not run, some were left behind, half-dead to fend
for themselves. The giants plodded along the path, like the wolves they
had been stripped of their stamina and strength. Only Nosnra still walked
with his shoulders back. In his arms he carried the body of his friend, a
mere souless husk, drained by the powers he had wielded in life.
Only one more hill and a valley then they would be home.
* * *
(To Be Continued)