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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
"Back away! Back away!' Talberth warned the orcs. The mages face
was eerily underlit by the glowing amulet he wore, his expression was
demonic. The shadow of the wand he held was huge, projected against the
wall it terrified the orcs. Their weapons clanged to the floor and they
backed themselves empty-handed into the corner of the room.
Talberth had thought he heard yelling from the far passage, but
the orcs noise had drowned it out. Now that they'd stopped their
gleeful cursing, the chamber had fallen into silence, Talberth's shouted
commands faded into the dark that surrounded the light of his
amulet.
The mage bent and put his hand beneath the scout's nose but
kept his eye upon the orcs, and kept the dweomered wand pointed in their
direction. He felt a slight stirring of air, he shifted his hand
to the scout's chest, its rise and fall could barely be felt, but
it was there and the beating of Derue's heart
* * *
Harold casually searched wear the ranger had lain for the empty
jar of salve. It wouldn't hold much, not a complete body, but he could
save one their heads. If the whole was priceless perhaps the head would
be worth a fortune by itself, he thought.
"Harold," Ivo called, "go see what is keeping the others. Find
Gytha at least, Harald is still injured."
"I'm fine." the ranger objected.
"You're not." Ivo replied. "And no more of such lies. Harold go,
go..." Ivo shooed him away waving both his hands. "And take the
orc with you!"
Harold shook his head in regret, he would have to think of a way
to save one of the little beasts. Walking past the young orc he did
not need to signal or say a word, Little Rat fell in behind.
* * *
"I will have to climb down and fetch the rope." Telenstil said.
Ghibelline was waking but he seemed to be in a daze. The elf tried
to sit up, but his arm slipped on the stone and his head fell back, he
had Telenstil's cloak rolled up as a pillow beneath him, it saved him from
a nasty bruise.
There was a sputtering torch in Gytha's hand, she'd come back
laden with her hands full, Ghibelline's sword tucked beneath her belt.
She was walked awkwardly, the edge sawing at the leather band around her
waist, she'd never used a sword and did not like them, even just to
carry a few yards.
"I'll stay," she said, "I don't think he will be able to manage
the climb till he has slept and rested, he is healed but weak."
"The adventuring life," smiled Telenstil, "I should be growing fat
with a gaggle of apprentices to do the work."
"Never." Gytha smiled too. "You are much too active."
"It is the curiosity," said Telenstil, "there is always something
new to learn." the mage swung himself over the edge of the shaft and
nimbly began to climb. "I will be right back." he called as his head
dropped out of sight.
Gytha was already sitting beside the injured elf. She reached
behind him as he struggled to sit once more and helped him with her hand
across his shoulders.
"I'm alive." he said quietly.
"Yes."
"You saved me." Ghibelline stated sure that it was true. "I should
be dead, that snake, the venom...thank you."
* * *
(To Be Continued)