Send a spelling or grammar correction to: Tracy Johnson
This site sponsored by Agenda Games LLC
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
"What does that tell you?" asked Harald. The ranger bristled
with impatience.
"Look, the wire is frosted near the end where I held it to the
mist." Ivo held the piece of enchanted silver in his hand and waved
it toward the ranger. "But further on it is merely cold to the touch.
It tells me a little tale, listen and I will tell it to you."
"Sorry Ivo," Harald apologized, "I'm just worried about Talberth."
"I'm worried myself." said Ivo. "The mist looks no more than
half a foot thick, the frost on the wire goes no further. The wire was
not destroyed, it was not yanked from my hand, as it might be if magic
had transported it. It is not bent, so no trap was triggered by it passing
through the mist."
"That is no test for traps." the thief spoke up.
"No Harold, but what else do you suggest?" asked Ivo.
"Use that sword of yours." he said to the ranger. "Let it drag
across the ground. See if there is a floor beyond that smoke, we could
take a step and end up falling down a shaft like the one we saw back in
the room of statues."
Harald drew the long blade and stared at it for a moment, he hated
to use the blade in such a way.
"I don't think it will break." the thief said sarcasticly.
"All right, I'll give it a try." Harald said, but he was
reluctant and moved with excessive care.
"I thought you were in a hurry." Harold complained.
The ranger held out his claymore, the hilt in both his hands and
let it slide across the edges of the mist along the frame. He felt a firm
resistance and the blade ground against some unseen surface beyond the
smoke filled portal, but he could hear nothing from the other side. Using
the strength of his arms and shoulders he pushed hard against the ceiling,
the walls and the floor, but there was no result. Nothing gave, no
trap opened up beneath the blade, only the feel of something that
stopped the point from moving further and a growing cold which chilled
the metal of the sword.
"There is nothing." Harald said, then the ranger stepped into
the mist and disappeared.
"Wait!" Ivo and Harold called out together. The thief grabbed for
the ranger and passed through the mist close on his heels.
"Hey!" Little Rat shouted. The young orc followed Harold without
a moments hesitation.
Ivo still held the silver wire in his hand. He looked at the mist
filled gate for a moment then carefully bent the wire into four even
lengths and slipped it into his pack, then stepped into the mist.
* * *
Chilling cold reached for him but Harold brushed it aside and
stepped through the mist. It had only been the lightest touch, then
he found himself standing in the dark.
The ranger stopped and tried to sense the room around him. There
was a different feel then what he had expected. Through the mist his sword
had pressed against some obstruction to the right and left, he shifted the
claymore so that the blade swung to either side but met no resistance.
Harald stepped back and as his foot slid across the stone floor
something collided with his leg. It squeaked out with alarm and sent the
ranger jumping forward in surprise.
"It's me! It's me." the halfling thief cried out.
"Curse it Harold." exclaimed the ranger. "You're lucky I didn't
cut you in half!"
"What're you stan..." Harold began to say but Little Rat came
leaping through the mist and knocked him down.
* * *
(To Be Continued...)