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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
"Ivo, he is not coming." said Harald. "I've given him the five
minutes, and more."
"Then it is time for us to go." Ivo replied.
"Telenstil won't like it but I say we leave." chimed in Talberth.
"I could climb down..." the ranger began.
"No." said Ivo. "If the giants catch us here, Talberth and I could
not hold them back."
"Leave the rope," said Talberth, "as Telenstil instructed, we've
given him every chance."
"Let's collect our packs then and find the others." Harald
said. He gave a deep sigh and a final pull at the rope, then let it drop
back against the wall of the chute.
* * *
Edouard gave a growl and grabbed Derue by the throat with both his
hands. For a moment Gytha saw the red streak coursing through the scouts
body, wrapping around him like a vine around a tree, then Edouard pulled
the sword from over his brothers shoulder. Smoke rose from his hand and
the smell and crackle of burning flesh pervaded the silence and stench of
the room.
With a scream Edouard threw the sword from his hand, it clanged
from the stone wall. Derue jumped for it and turned to face his brother,
the flames racing across the steel as soon as he put his hand to the hilt.
"Ineptire!" Derue yelled. "Where is your blade? Hah! You have lost
it, you cannot claim mine!"
"No!!!" Edouard howled. He kept his injured hand clutched to his
chest and backed away from the burning sword. Suddenly he whipped around
and ran from the room, pushing past the others with a maniacal strength.
"Kalfashow!" he screamed into the cleric's face. He knocked her back and
she swung out her metal staff to trip him up, but he took the fall with a
roll and was on his feet with only Jalal, the old Bakluni, standing in his
way.
The old man backed up and tried to press himself against the wall
out of the madmans way, but Edouard clubbed him to the ground with his
bare hands, striking a sharp blow to Jalal's head with his open palm, then
grabbing a thin arm and twirling him about. Ghibelline jumped forward to
aid his friend but Edouard flung Jalal into the elf, then slammed into the
door. He hit with force enough to open it a crack and slid through,
scraping shoulder-blades and ribs between the stone frame and the iron
straps across the wood.
Derue screamed out his brothers name and dropped his sword, the
flames disappeared the moment it left his hands, then he cried out again.
"Ardare!" he screamed, then fell to his knees and scrabbled across the
stones to grab the hilt again.
"I see it!" Gytha shouted. "There is a red serpent inside of him,
it is that cursed sword!"
Outside the cells, the orcs watched Edouard as he ran
about. He kept going back and forth, looking for his sword, making
further and further sweeps of the room.
One of the newcomers who had not seen Derue or his magic sword,
and obeyed the scouts commands, struck out at the crazed man as he
shoved by. Edouard slid past the blow, and into the orcs reach. One hand
grabbed the orcs wrist, a strong thumb digging into the palm, his other
hand, the calloused edge, struck across its throat.
The sword dropped from the orcs numbed grasp, it grabbed its
throat and let out a barking, strangled cough. Its companions yelled in
fury and surrounded Edouard with their weapons drawn and ready.
* * *
(To Be Continued)