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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
Harold barely had time to scream out a curse before he and the orc
bounced off a small lip of rock projecting from the stones. The
tangled pair flew apart, all eyes turned up to watch, a dark shape with
many limbs and a howling voice that was both a squeak and a sharp loud
screech that came hurtling from the rocks above their heads.
The quickest to react were Talberth and Ghibelline. The mage wore
a magic ring set with stones, each a different type of gem, these housed
the power of magic spells which could be called upon instantly. The touch
of Talberth's hand on a small green emerald chip and an arcane word
unleashed the spell. Talberth directed its energy and an unseen force
washed over the nearest of the two who fell.
Little Rat seemed to swim through the air, his arms and legs
beat like a humming birds, a blur of movement lashing out wildly. At
first his effort did nothing to slow him down, but as the magic that
Talberth cast came over him he began to float. The small orc drifted
like an autumn leaf dancing back and forth in a slight fall breeze.
He landed on his back and lay there looking up at the sky, not moving,
lying still but for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
The thief was not so lucky, Talberth's spell did not take hold of
him. Harold plummeted down, he had only a moment shake the panic from
his head and let his form go slack. Land loose as a drunkard his old
teacher used to say, but still he hit hard.
With a running leap Ghibelline threw himself beneath Harold,
his arms stretched out to catch, but he'd jumped too soon. The little
thief crashed into the elfs back slamming him face first into the stones.
Harold bounced, he knocked himself unconscious, his head smacking
against a rock.
Gytha ran over to Harold first. She saw Ghibelline push himself
up, his face scratched and bleeding, but the thief was her first concern.
"Harold, Harold!" Gytha ran her hand down the back of the
halflings head, it came away wet with blood.
"Is he all right?" Ivo had come scrambling down from his perch
atop the high boulder.
"He is hurt, I do not know yet how badly." The cleric felt
Harold's neck, but was careful not to move him. "Cuthbert, dear Saint,
aid me with your strength again."
She put one hand to the back of his wounded head and the other
behind his neck. The saints power flowed through her hands and bathed
Harold's head in a gold light. Gytha felt his body relax, she hadn't
noticed his breathing before, but she heard his inhale, deeply, then
exhale in a long sigh.
"He sleeps now." said Gytha. "I would rather have him awake,
it is not good to sleep with such a hurt, but he is in the Saints
hands, I can do no more"
"You have healed him?" asked Ghibelline. The elf cradled
his arm against his chest, the bleeding cuts went unheeded, leaving
trails like tears of red down his face.
"It looks like you need some healing too." said Ivo.
"I have done what I could for Harold, let me see your arm."
said Gytha. "Your face needs tending too."
* * *
(To Be Continued)