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
The door swung open and Gytha came running out. Harold saw her
first, the others were still mesmerized by the carnage that Talberth's
lightning bolt had wrought. The little thief ran over to her, the orcs
who had not fled cowered against the wall or in the corners, afraid of
even the halfling, not knowing what terrible powers he might possess.
"Harold," Gytha called. "Am I glad to see you."
"Gytha, what happened? we heard a commotion."
"Those scouts, the swords that Henri handed out, they were
cursed." she told him.
"That figures." Harold agreed. "That's how our luck has been
going."
Telenstil left the cells as well but did not run. He looked slowly
from side to side but walked straight toward his companions, stopping
beside Gytha and putting his hand down to pat the halflings shoulder.
"A timely arrival my friend." he said to Harold.
"We could have simply come with you, that Henri never showed.'
Harold said.
"I had hoped he would. I hate to leave any of our group among
these monsters." Telenstil shook his head and glanced again at their
surroundings.
The room was a dank cave, though torches were set all along the
walls throwing off a smokey light. The ceiling was high and dim, and where
Telenstil stood, part way to the center of the room, the torchlight barely
reached. The orcs had begun to slink away, some crept off up the stairs,
others disappeared down the small passage by the cells. The large
passageway was clogged with the bodies of the dead, none of the orcs would
go that way.
Telenstil lead them back to the cells, they were a quiet group,
unhappy to find themselves back underground again.
"Telenstil, these orcs will alert the giants," said Harald as
they crossed the threshold of the door, "we had best leave, and quick."
"I agree," Telenstil replied, "but we have lost Edouard, again,
and now Henri has abandoned us, and Derue, our scout has been cursed by
that magic sword he found."
"More reason for us to go now." spoke up Harold. "Who is this?"
he asked as he spotted Ghibelline.
"I am Ghibelline," the elf answered. "You are the friends of
Master Telenstil and the good lady cleric, I take it."
"How is Jalal?" Gytha asked him.
"He is awake, but weak, Telenstil, he wishes to speak with you."
said Ghibelline.
"Who is this Jalal?" asked Harold. "Telenstil have you enlisted
an army to join us?"
"No," said Telenstil, "we have just found some of the captives
the giants had kept. Gytha, come with me, we will have to move Jalal,
you too Ghibelline."
"Is that Derue back there?" Harold asked as Telenstil and the
others went into the cell where Jalal lay.
"Yes, do not untie him." Telenstil warned.
"Don't worry about that." said Harold to himself. "Well this is
fine don't you think." he said to the ranger.
"Eh." the ranger shrugged. "It could be worse." he leaned against
the open door and kept watch, eyeing the last of the orcs as they crept
away. A small group had not left, they stood near the arch of the
stairwell and cast long glances toward the cells.
* * *
(To Be Continued)