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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
It was past midday when Harald woke. He'd slept since dawn,
hours past the time he'd asked Telenstil to wake him. Everyone else
was still asleep except for that other elf, Ghibelline, and even he
leaned against the rock wall with eyes closed.
"Telenstil," he said to the elven mage who stood by the cliffs
edge, "you let me sleep."
"You needed sleep." said Telenstil. He looked past the ranger at
the others who lay crowded under the overhang of rock. "Everyone needed
some time to rest."
"The fire is almost out." Harald said half to himself. Out across
the valley the thick black smoke was gone, only small wispy trails
of grey were left, cook fires or a last few steaming embers somewhere
within the ruins of the hall. "Telenstil, we should be going. Soon."
"Yes, it is time to find a better camp." said Telenstil.
"We could hide that magic chain somewhere around here." Harald
suggested hopefully.
"I hate to ask you to carry that burden, but it is something of
great value to Nosnra," Telenstil said, "at the very least I wish to deny
him its use."
"If I find a deep enough pit, its going in." Harald told him with
a firm nod of his head.
* * *
They could not wake Jalal. The old man was stiff, his limbs
were cold, Gytha thought he might be dead, but a faint pulse still beat
within his chest. She called upon the Saint. Cuthbert was the strong
arm that supported the weak, that lifted the fallen, and struck against
evil, but his blessing could not make the old young or move the final
moment of life forward one fleeting second.
"You can't aid him?" Ghibelline asked her sadly.
"The giants have worn him down, he is not hurt," said Gytha, "just
old and weak."
"Yesterday his spirit burned bright." Ghibelline put his hand on
the old mans shoulder. "Worn yes, but... I know that for you he is old,
but for me...we are of an age, and to my people I am considered young."
"You have not spent time with humans before?" Gytha asked.
"No, I am of the woods. Humans I have met, but passing through
our lands." said Ghibelline. "I have seen death, but not like this."
"This is not a bad passing," she told the elf, "what pain he feels
is like that in a dream, I think his spirit will leave him while he
sleeps."
"Gytha, what is wrong?" asked Ivo. The old gnome knelt beside
the dying man.
All around them the others had risen and prepared to leave. The
orcs had little enough to take. They dragged the captive scout to
his feet and put a knife to the rope which bound his legs, but Talberth
stopped them. The scout had proven too dangerous to trust even with
his hands tied behind his back. The orcs would have to carry him again,
they grumbled, but remembered the power of the mage and hefted the bound
man up with ungentle hands.
"Jalal is dying." Gytha told the gnome.
"Telenstil will want to know. There are questions we wanted to
ask." Ivo said.
"Is that your concern." said Ghibelline sharply.
"I'm sorry for your friend." said Ivo. He'd just stood and
taken a step away when the elf spoke. He truned back to face
Ghibelline. "I did not know him, but what he knew may have been important
to us, perhaps more important than his life or ours."
* * *
(To Be Continued)