Aquisitions (III)
After a long journey down the blackened corridor,
and the quick search of many old rooms and personal quarters along its
length the StrifeLord of Intrigue reached a grand summoning chamber. Its
vaulted ceiling depicted great victories and heroic stories of the rise
of Cyric and its walls were carefully and artistically painted with murals,
faded but still evident, of the conquests and exploits of faithful of the
One and All. At the center of the room, a grand black throne stood, with
the skeletal remains of some long forgotten Strife Wizard seated upon it.
More notably, the hands of the figure clutched a dusty but undeniably powerful
artifact. A black staff bearing no marking aside from the silver spiral
circling its entire length. After recasting his detection spell, the figure
slowly crept forward, toward the black throne, and the treasure its seated
occupant, held. Seeing no danger, even after a long pause at the throne
itself, the figure reached for the staff. As the StrifeLord grasped the
Staff, the skeletal figure seemed to leap out of its reverie and begin
to cast a spell. The StrifeLord reacted quicker and drew his silver capped
rod from its belthoop and dashed it explodingly into the side of the creature's
head. The antimagic of the rod broke through the creature's defences and
crushed its skull instantly. The form crumpled to the floor in a pile of
rags and bones. Replacing the rod and picking up a few pieces of the skull
he remembered some words Raistlin had once uttered. Never be too dependant
on magic my friend, for it can be the downfall of our kind. Smiling to
himself on how his antimagic rod had pierced the creature's mantles, it
was only too true. At this he looked at the object in his other hand with
renewed interest. Welcome Setzer, the staff telepathically spoke. You are
the new Magister. Finally, Setzer thought. We can truly begin what we so
long have desired to do. S.
Labels:
Cyric,
Raistlin,
Roleplay Note,
RPnote