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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
Gytha put her hand to the scouts chest, it did not seem to move,
she thought he might be dead. He started, Derue's hands strained at the
ropes which bound them. Flashing, angry eyes glared up at Gytha, but the
fire in them died and a gleam of recognition took its place.
"Are you injured?" she asked him.
He breathed deeply, but even the filling of his lungs was
restricted by the rope wrapped about his chest.
"Didn't you hear the falling stones or feel the rumbling?" Gytha
shook her head in wonder.
Derue closed his eyes. He tried to rise, but just rocked back and
forth. There was a slow, careful deliberation to his movements. The rope
gave a little and he slipped his shoulder beneath a loop.
"Let me help." Gytha tried to untie the knot, but Harald had tied
it with a ranger's skill. It tangled and the rope snarled badly around
the knot, twisting hopelessly. As she worked Derue kept up the movement of
his back and shoulders, another loop slipped over his head. He squirmed
and shed his bonds like a snake leaving behind a covering of skin.
There were wounds around his wrists, places where the flesh had
been rubbed away, they bled. Each attempt to free himself had cost Derue
a layer of skin and a small quantity of blood.
"You're hurt again." Gytha touched the scouts injured wrists
lightly. "I have a knife in my pack. I will cut you free, don't try
anymore," she glanced at the bloodsoaked rope and he followed her eyes.
"you will only hurt yourself more."
He nodded and stood unmoving while she went to find her
pack and retrieve a knife.
"Gytha!" Ghibelline called out, then broke into a painful
cough. Each heave sent lancing pain through the elf's chest and he doubled
over with his arms wrapped tightly around his aching ribs. "Help me
Telenstil, she might be injured."
"Stay here." Telenstil commanded. "I will go and find her."
"Go then," the wood elf gasped, "I'll stay here, go."
Telenstil left him behind, it was only a short way across the
hall to where she had lain. The floor was covered with stones fallen from
the roof. A glance up at the vaulting ceiling showed cracks running from
pillar to pillar. The statues themselves appeared untouched, protected
no doubt by the enchantment which had been placed on them and still
lingered after countless years.
"Gytha." Telenstil called as he neared the small fire. He did not
see her at first, his eyes were fixed on the motionless scout. A dagger
appeared in his hand unbidden by his conscious mind, a spell was on his
lips. "Gytha." he called louder and concerned.
"I'm here," she called back, "I'm fine. Where's Ghibelline?"
she demanded.
"Good." said Telenstil relieved. "Good, you were not injured?"
"Where is Ghibelline?" Gytha abandoned the pack she'd been
searching.
"A stone hit him," Telenstil began but saw the fearful look
that came over the cleric's face, he raised his hand, "wait, he is
hurt, yes, but I think not badly. Go to him, near the pit, on this
side of the chamber."
She looked out into the dark. "Take me to him. I will need a
light."
"Take a torch," Telenstil pointed to the fire, "there were some
laid by, they should be there. What of him?" he asked looking at Derue.
"His wrists are hurt." Gytha said as she rushed to the fire. She
brushed away dirt and debris that covered a small pile of wood and finally
found a cloth wrapped branch.
"Derue." Telenstil walked to the scout and looked him in the eyes.
The evil madness was gone, now there was only a deep sad emptiness.
* * *
(To Be Continued...)