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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
The ball of fire roared out, it swallowed the giants near the
center of the herd and set the trees and underbrush ablaze. Outside the
confines of a room or a dungeons narrow halls the spell spread out
to its full limits, a huge spherical burst of flame.
Their was a second roar, this time from a score of voices and it
went on and on. The giants swirled as if they were huge candles being
spun like tops, their greasy hair and beards aflame. They screamed out,
a terrifying bellow of rage.
The cattle were worse, they cried out in terror and in pain. Half
had their hides ablaze, they gored those ahead and like a fan they left
the trail running through the woods and underbrush, up the southern slope
toward the places where Telenstil and the others hid.
One knocked a twisting giant to the ground, another trampled him
underfoot, a third was struck by a massive fist and fell, still afire it
lay across him burning like a torch. They struggled together, the giant
tried to rise and throw the huge steer from off his legs while hooves
scraped and dug into his flesh. The two became a living pyre, another
steer crashed into them both and ran off, blinded by the seering flames.
They came bellowing up the slope, tore bushes up by their roots
and knocked down small trees. Up the trail ran a burning cow, its head
blackened, eyes rolling wildly, a froth coming from its mouth surrounded by
skin cracked and raw. Telenstil cursed his spell, he'd thought to kill
them all with a single strike and scare the rest. He stepped out into the
road to meet the charge.
"Az-Trapa!" the mage yelled out and sent a bolt of magic lightning
booming down the trail. It struck a dozen of the cows and steers, a streak
of bluish white that leapt from one beast to another. Many had been badly
injured from the flames, the power of the bolt was too much, every beast
it touched, it killed. They dropped in a dreadful row, their cries were
drowned out by the snap of thunder that accompanied the spell. Some fell
to one side, others took a few steps, stumbling on legs already bereft of
life, but Telenstil had not killed them all.
Half a dozen of the beasts ran to the right, while two broke off
through the brush that was on the lefthand of the trail. Harold dived
between the hooves of a cow that had come up on the lefthand side. He
moved fast as any cat, faster than the cow or the stamping hooves. Once
through he tackled the young orc who stood frozen before the second cow.
They rolled clear, Little Rat breathing hard lying on his back still
paralyzed with fear.
On the right Harald ran out and swept his blade low across the
legs of a charging steer. The creature fell and with a quick and
merciful second stroke the ranger killed the beast with a blow that would
have pleased a master of the butchers guild.
Talberth used his wand, drained a charge, the silver glow fading
from a rune along its side. Three cows fell, but a forth brushed the mage
aside, it flung him into a tree like a childs doll. The orcs had been
behind the mage, they ran as the two remaining steers came rushing on.
One went down beneath the hooves of an enraged beast. Another lodged
upon a goring horn and was carried off still yelling as the steer ran
through the trees and out of sight.
The remaining steer stamped the orc into a red and bloody pulp.
Ghibeline ran up and stabbed it with his sword, it did not seem to feel
the blow, but a second cut made it turn its head.
Four of the orcs had not run, all were armed with weapons they had
taken from the bugbear guards back in the dungeons of the steading. Boss,
the leader of the orcs held a scimitar, Meatstealer had a rusted
longsword, one orc held a ball and chain the other had a long-bladed axe.
They charged the beast and struck it from horn to hoof, a weak
swing of the morningstar barely grazed its flesh, while the axe clove
deep and dropped the steer. The swords stabbed in and ended the poor
creatures life.
Telenstil shook his head, their strength and power used against
a cattle herd. Below him two of the giants survived. They'd beaten out the
flames, burnt stubble all that remained upon their heads, and with
angry shouts were charging up the slope as the herd had done.
* * *
(To Be Continued)