Aquisitions (II)
Now in a large hallway, and up to his knees
in running water the cloaked form articulated a few arcane words to a light
spell and saw his robes runes increase in their intensity. A couple slight
sharp hand gestures and he floated above the frigid underground stream.
His detection spell still active, he proceeded down the hall and avoided
or disarmed any wards or traps found and travelled down the tunnels he
had once walked as a neonate of the Prince of Lies. He came to a large
room that seemed to list to one side, as if the entire plateau had shifted
in a great quake. One half lay dry, with a doorway clearly visible and
the other lay in deep water, its doorway nearly completely submerged beneath
the watery depths. Concentrating on the now much clearer whispers in his
mind, he discerned that the dry path was the one to take. Relieved, he
landed lightly on the dry floor and after a brief scan of the archway,
and the hall beyond he moved gingerly through it. A thunderous snap sounded
as his protective spells absorbed the brunt of the hidden ward. Stunned,
and sent sprawling he shook off the daze and regained his senses. Muttering
an oath not so polite to Raistlin's heritage he narrowed his eyes at the
now apparent ward. It was definitely Raistlin's, the stylized 'R' being
a clear indication. Watching in silence as it slowly faded he scanned the
room again as he recast his protective mantle against lightning. He stood
and stretched his statically charged muscles and then continued, more cautiously,
down the corridor to a dim glow at the other end. He found himself standing
in a large circular room with several other exits, some viable and others
collapsed and impassible by normal means. The glow emanated from a single
sphere hanging in the air at the center of the chamber. The chamber seemed
to silence the mind whispers that had brought the StrifeLord here. Glancing
at the other exits, there was no indication of the correct one to take.
Most certainly, the wrong direction would lead to several wards and potentially
fatal injuries. He unstrung a symbol from his belt and sneered as he gazed
upon the emblem bearing a Flame surrounded by Eight Stars. A Holy symbol
of Mystra recently taken from the corpse of a high ranking Wizard within
that faith. Completing another arcane phrase, the object softly glowed
and levitated from his hand. It suddenly cracked and fell into dust on
the floor. The Lord looked at the marking the dust had formed. An arrow
pointing directly to the first exit to his left. S.
Labels:
Mystra,
Raistlin,
Roleplay Note,
RPnote