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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
There was a clatter on the stony path, half a dozen wolves
came gambling into the clearing. They turned from the trail and
crashed together, gangly as puppies, yipping and yowling, biting
and nipping at one another.
A deep throated growl from the grizzled pack leader sent
the others slinking and whining. One small fellow rolled on his back
so that his white haired belly was up in the air while his tongue
lolled from the side of his mouth. The older wolf walked over, proud
and stately as any king and placed his paw on the younger wolf's
belly then opened his jaws wide and yowled.
The whole pack replied and an answering cry came from above.
The small wolf gave forth a gurgling response but the paw on his stomach
hampered his attempt. A nip from the pack leader as he took his paw
away sent the small wolf scrambling to his feet.
All seven of the wolves formed into a semi-circle that faced
the path, the largest, the old pack leader, at the center. More
wolves came running down the path, but these turned gracefully and
entered the clearing at a slow walk.
These new arrivals were as black as soot and had eyes to match.
None were bigger than the smallest of the grey coated wolves, but there
were a good deal more in number. Just one short of two dozen, the black
coated wolves filled the trail. One small black coated wolf, half the size
of the old grey leader, walked slowly into the clearing and stood facing
the seven larger wolves.
The pack leader of the greys slowly approached the small black
wolf, then stopped suddenly, its muzzle only inches from the other wolf's
nose. The two stared eye to eye for several moments while the wolves to
either side swayed on their feet, some letting their tongues hang loose
or turning their ears one way or another, but never moving from their
place. Finally the black lowered its head and put its nose almost to the
ground.
The old grey put out its paw and almost seemed to tap,
once, on the black wolf's head. The effect was like a thunderclap. The
greys and blacks broke out into a jubilant cacophony of howls and barks.
The two leaders sat back on their haunches while their packmates greeted
each other head to tail then burst into races across the clearing.
Hidden from the senses of the wolves the companions grimaced
and clenched the hilt of a weapon, or muttered a prayer,
or cowered slightly, (Little Rat was not alone in this) or kept
the components of a spell at hand. All unseen, unheard and unsmelt. But
only Ivo paid the wolves no mind.
The old gnome kept up a sub-vocal chant as he weaved his
spell. His mind enrapt on what he wanted the spell to show and only
vaguely aware of the wolves around him. The powerful illusion masked the
humans, elves, halfling and orc, so much so that one wolf who skittered
across the stones into the large ranger's legs, never even thought to look
to see what it had hit.
The wolves played, though fights of a more serious nature broke
out here and there, only to be met with growls and snapping teeth from
one pack leader or the other. Then without warning they all became still
and silence flowed back into the clearing from where it had been chased
by the rambunctious wolves.
* * *
(To Be Continued...)