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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
"I am worried about your friend." said Ghibelline.
Gytha reached out to check his arm but the elf backed away.
"Heal him first, Jalal was injured so, he did not wake, the
same as your friend." Ghibelline nodded toward the thief.
"Jalal was old, his time had come." smiled Gytha. "I feel
that Harold's time is not today. Trust me, he will wake, but
you are injured now and we may need that arm of yours."
Talberth looked down at the snoring thief, he bent with the
thought of turning the halfling to make Harold more comfortable.
"Don't!" yelled Gytha. "Don't touch him, Talberth you may hurt him
worse if you try to move him."
The mage held up both his hands and turned away, chastened by
Gytha's angry shout.
Ivo grabbed the edge of Talberth's robe and lead him aside.
"Best not to interfere, she has things well in hand."
"I was just trying to help." muttered Talberth.
"Harold will be fine, but you and I will need to take watch,
and decide what to do with our scout, and these orcs."
The two wizards looked over at Derue and beyond him to where the
orcs sat in a rough circle. Their leader talked with them and was
answered with a few grunts and sullen looks, but they were a quiet lot.
"I would prefer them to be loud." said Ivo.
"They are nothing to worry about." Talberth dismissed them
from his mind.
"Well then, I will worry for you." said Ivo. "A knife is always
dangerous especially if it is behind you."
* * *
They soared, but Harald did not feel like a bird, he just
felt sick. Telenstil brought them over the hill, sweeping in from
the south. If any watched from the steading they would see a strange sight
indeed as the elf and the ranger crossed the sky.
The land below was bare atop the giants hill, the trees cut down
long ago to help build the steadings halls. They stripped the land around,
but new growth had begun fill the slopes around their hill. At the top the
giants had pulled the roots from the ground and hacked down anything
taller than a man, but beyond the crown they did not care if the
trees returned.
Harald scanned the slope, his eyes were old, but still sharp,
sharper than an elves they used to say. He yelled out when he caught sight
of the ledge where they had camped the night before. He waved to
Telenstil and shouted over the rushing wind.
"There!!!" He cried. "Look!"
Telenstil waved back, then directed the orb down toward the ledge.
They passed by their old camp then followed the trail, flying straight up
the hill. The elf's head turned right then left, beside him Harald did
the same, searching for the friends they'd left behind.
As they rose the mage felt a weight begin to drag at him, the
orb had changed, no longer white, it dulled. No time to warn his friend
he set them down, the power draining completely from the orb before they
landed.
Harald was taken by surprise, he brought his feet up but
skidded across the uneven trail on his knees. Telenstil nimbly
stayed on his feet and ran to aid his friend.
"Harald, my apologies, are you injured." asked Telenstil
solicitously.
"I've skinned my knees." Harald gave a groan as he stood. "I
had worse when I was boy falling down a tree, but I wish you could have
told me we were going to land."
* * *
(To Be Continued)