Walking the Dungeons
Standing in the middle of nowhere nothing to
be seen that looks fimilar, nothing at all. Dead skeletons all over the
dungeon, coffins all busted open, swords slamed into the ground, bows in
the walls. A evil troll learking at Rockie as he looks around. Rockie decided
to go wander the dungeons, explore them as Rockie did so, he found a chest
that was pad locked shut. Rockie drew his axe and smashed the lock, busted
it. He then opened the chest and suddenly was attacked by 20 Vampire type
creatures. Rockie jolted, ran around killing each and every vampire he
could before his strengh ran out. Rockie then got so weak he couldn't walk
anymore and he just laid on the floor dead tired, feel asleep. After about
two hours of sleeping on the ground Rockie suddenly woke, jolted real fast,
said "Where am i?", He then remembered he was walking in a dungeon lost.
He was fed up with all the Evilness
that was around in that dungeon, so he ran as fast as he could to try to
get out of the dungeon. as he was running he stumbled into a Stronger beast,
had to slay it to get further into the dungeon, find a way out.
Bill of Sale *Mirage in trade for Sheena*
This Bill hereby states that on this day I
do trade myself for sheena to be released from Trenin. I am a slave unto
him and him only until I am no longer wanted or I am bought. He must not
shackle or abuse me in anyway or this sale is null and void.
Mystran Dust [6]
Gathering her robes to her, Simbul placed her ear against the strider's chest. "He'll sleep for some time." Danthor examined him briefly, concurred, and lifted Krogenar easily, carrying him from the clearing. Laisha and Grandal conferred as they followed.
"I'll get his ship to where we agreed. I think I can work it well enough." Grandal nodded at Laisha. As the female drow entered the ship, he rejoined the other two wizards and their sleeping friend aboard the Mystran airship.
.....
Laying him down on the mud-cracked ground, Laisha regarded her old friend sadly. In the oppressive heat, she knelt over him as the other Mystrans looked on. Casting her mind back some eight decades, she focused on the first time she had spoken to Krogenar - the day she had extended an invitation to him, to join her family, to join Mystra's family. It was painful, but it was a necessary step in the spell's execution.
She had followed him for a few days, to discern his nature. He had recently fled the destruction of Vector, a fugitive MagiTek soldier. Finally, she had explained Mystra's role in the universe to him, and made her invitation. He accepted, and they had been friends ever since.
Laisha removed the Symbol of Mystra from around his neck.
Whispering softly in his ear, Laisha cradled his stubbled face in the palm of her right hand. Her ebon thumb swept across his wide forehead, slowly, wiping the sweat from it. As she stroked his familiar brow, the past eighty years of his life slipped away from him. Grandal, and the other Mystrans looked on solemnly.
"You will not remember Mystra, or your life in Her Church," she husked.
"We will remember you. Go without guilt, and without heartache." Her thumb was nearly across his brow now. "And most importantly, go to the east, where none will know you." She looked upon her friend for the last time. Though they had shared so many years, he only appeared half his age. He seemed to be in his early sixth decade (a newborn, in her long-lived drow eyes) but his actual age was well over a century. The age-refuting effects of The Forest of Mysteries would no longer hold the years at bay, and age would slowly grasp him, enfeebling him.
He would awake as though from a dream. The intervening years were now gone. Lifting her thumb from his brow, a tiny drop of sweat dangled there. Wiping it across the face of a green leaf, she stood, and placed the leaf in her waist pouch. The prostrate strider sighed, and was silent.
.....
"I feel like we're abandoning him." Lanseril said. Grandal turned to the sage, and shook his head. "His choice was to leave. Forgetfulness is our gift to him, and it protects Mystra's children as well. Krogenar saw the truth of it, I think, in the clearing."
The elder wizard walked slowly to his seat at the back of the airship. Lanseril ignited the airship's engines, and looked out the porthole once more.
Krogenar lay on his back, his strange, bamboo airship a few paces away. As the ground fell away from them, the strider's form became smaller, and then invisible. "Was there food enough for him? Water?" These thoughts, and others swam through Lanseril's mind. Laisha placed her hand against his shoulder, as though reading his thoughts. "We've left him in a position of strength. No sense of loss, and the wilderness will protect him from those who will remember his as an enemy. To leave him in a city would be far crueler." The sage nodded at this, and turned back to the controls. Lanseril banked the airship westward, back across the ocean, to The Forest of Mysteries.
Mystran Dust [5]
Guilt flashed across Krogenar's face briefly, and then he was himself again. He crouched down, and offered Laisha his hand. She took it and pulled herself aboard. For the next few minutes, she was led about the strange craft. Her friend seemed proud at the fact that it had no floor. He hopped nimbly from strut to strut, as she hovered through its innards.
As his pride in his bamboo ship became ever more apparent, Laisha became more convinced that Krogenar's future course would take him farther from Mystra's Church.
Since she began her unexpected visit, the two had filled the time with as much chatter about the ship itself as possible - skirting the reason for its being.
Now, as the half-orc swung in his captain's chair (a leather sheet suspended from a convergence of bamboo struts) she could only grin at him. She decided not to let any more chatter divert her attention.
"The first flight was awkward. So much dust!" He donned a pair of aviator's goggles and beamed at her, his canines peeking out at her. "Still self-conscious about his teeth, she noted, and smiled. He droned on about the ship some more.
"... I can push the ship myself, now that the armor is gone." He slipped his bare feet into a set of pedals. Laisha's eyes widened. "You canna be serious? You pedal?" He grinned again, almost shyly. "I can, if I need to - removing the armor has to cut down on the fuel it needs." He shrugged, and frowned. "Lift engines still need to be hot, my legs can only drive her forward, and then, only slowly."
The silence descended that Laisha had awaited. The two stared across at each other.
He was leaving The Church of Mysteries, she was certain. She imagined the many enemies he had earned over the years hunting him down, with no one to protect him. As this understanding passed silently across the space between them, Krogenar misinterpreted the silence. The strider placed his hand across his breast and looked at her grimly. As the Supreme Strider of Mystra in past years, it had been Krogenar's duty to visit and maintain the various secret caches of magical knowledge that were scattered across all of known Faerun. Of all Mystrans, Krogenar knew the secret paths and crypts best. Others might know the Words of Unlocking and Sealing, but their actual contact with the locations were limited to a fingertip on a map.
"No hand, no weapon will ever turn me against Mystra. Our secrets will remain our own."
She returned her friend's gaze and replied sincerely, "I know they will." Gripping his calloused and weather-beaten hand, she motioned to the ignition key. "I'll believe this wicker beast can fly when you show me!" As he swung across the helm in his chair, and started the airship's engine, Laisha's fingers brushed against the symbol of Mystra that hung about her neck.
.....
"Water!" he snapped.
Looking into the Lift Drive Mirror, he could see that engine smoking and coughing. He pulled on a rope, and the engine's throttle was cut down. "Not even clear of the ground yet!" he thought angrily.
Laisha followed Krogenar out of the airship. He moved ahead of her now, towards the stream, a canteen in hand. As she followed him, Laisha steeled herself.
The strider sauntered through the grass, his arms loose at his sides. He slowed as Laisha approached him, then stopped. He cocked his head, and Laisha could see the profile of his nose sniffing at the air. His head started to turn, but he checked the movement.
He sighed once.
Three figures appeared from The Weave, each a staff's length away from the half-orc.
Words of sleep were whispered at him in unison. Laisha leaped ahead, and uttered a sleep enchantment as well. Krogenar staggered, and she caught him. Simbul, Grandal and Danthor helped ease him gently down to the grass.
As his pride in his bamboo ship became ever more apparent, Laisha became more convinced that Krogenar's future course would take him farther from Mystra's Church.
Since she began her unexpected visit, the two had filled the time with as much chatter about the ship itself as possible - skirting the reason for its being.
Now, as the half-orc swung in his captain's chair (a leather sheet suspended from a convergence of bamboo struts) she could only grin at him. She decided not to let any more chatter divert her attention.
"The first flight was awkward. So much dust!" He donned a pair of aviator's goggles and beamed at her, his canines peeking out at her. "Still self-conscious about his teeth, she noted, and smiled. He droned on about the ship some more.
"... I can push the ship myself, now that the armor is gone." He slipped his bare feet into a set of pedals. Laisha's eyes widened. "You canna be serious? You pedal?" He grinned again, almost shyly. "I can, if I need to - removing the armor has to cut down on the fuel it needs." He shrugged, and frowned. "Lift engines still need to be hot, my legs can only drive her forward, and then, only slowly."
The silence descended that Laisha had awaited. The two stared across at each other.
He was leaving The Church of Mysteries, she was certain. She imagined the many enemies he had earned over the years hunting him down, with no one to protect him. As this understanding passed silently across the space between them, Krogenar misinterpreted the silence. The strider placed his hand across his breast and looked at her grimly. As the Supreme Strider of Mystra in past years, it had been Krogenar's duty to visit and maintain the various secret caches of magical knowledge that were scattered across all of known Faerun. Of all Mystrans, Krogenar knew the secret paths and crypts best. Others might know the Words of Unlocking and Sealing, but their actual contact with the locations were limited to a fingertip on a map.
"No hand, no weapon will ever turn me against Mystra. Our secrets will remain our own."
She returned her friend's gaze and replied sincerely, "I know they will." Gripping his calloused and weather-beaten hand, she motioned to the ignition key. "I'll believe this wicker beast can fly when you show me!" As he swung across the helm in his chair, and started the airship's engine, Laisha's fingers brushed against the symbol of Mystra that hung about her neck.
.....
"Water!" he snapped.
Looking into the Lift Drive Mirror, he could see that engine smoking and coughing. He pulled on a rope, and the engine's throttle was cut down. "Not even clear of the ground yet!" he thought angrily.
Laisha followed Krogenar out of the airship. He moved ahead of her now, towards the stream, a canteen in hand. As she followed him, Laisha steeled herself.
The strider sauntered through the grass, his arms loose at his sides. He slowed as Laisha approached him, then stopped. He cocked his head, and Laisha could see the profile of his nose sniffing at the air. His head started to turn, but he checked the movement.
He sighed once.
Three figures appeared from The Weave, each a staff's length away from the half-orc.
Words of sleep were whispered at him in unison. Laisha leaped ahead, and uttered a sleep enchantment as well. Krogenar staggered, and she caught him. Simbul, Grandal and Danthor helped ease him gently down to the grass.
Mystran Dust [4]
The branch of a tree materialized - spearing through the canvas, and becoming entangled in the ropes, pulling on some of them. Engines began roaring into life, and the ship tilted at a crazy angle. Cursing ferociously, Krogenar pulled his knife from his boot-sheath, and slashed at the ropes.
.....
The Weave slid across Laisha's face like the finest silk. Her eyes opened when the sensation ceased, and she found herself on the other side of the Sea of Swords.
While it was usual for Krogenar to be so far from The Forest of Mysteries, it was unusual for him to be building anything.
The female drow passed through Ardeep Forest, Waterdeep City was marked by a distant black cloud to the west. In the clearing, she spied an airship of NyTek design: a Hammerhead.
Murmuring a word of power, she was assumed into the folds of The Weave. From a pouch at her waist she withdrew a small vial of oil. Sprinkling it over herself, her scent was neutralized. After eighty years, Krogenar could scent her easily, cloaked or no.
"An airship? Nay, it canna be," she thought. She remembered Krogenar's first encounter with an airship had induced powerful revulsion in his spirit and his body. He had railed against the idea of bypassing the journey for the sake of the destination. It was like rushing to the point of intimacy with a woman, without dallying to enjoy the contours of the landscape first. That, and the high speed oftravel hadthrown the strider's finely tuned sense of balance into havok. He had staggered through the hallways as though drunk. All his senses had screamed that they were moving dangerously fast, but there was no true danger.
As she neared, Laisha noticed that much of the airship was covered by leather hides stretched across a bamboo platform. Puzzled, she stood beneath the ship.
Looking up into it, she saw a flash of steel. A metal plate dropped towards her. Waving a hand at the wayward armor, it veered away and skidded on the grass. The glade was littered, she noticed, with more armor plates.
Her first impression had been that the bamboo was for making scaffolding needed for altering the ship. To her horror, she realized that the bamboo _was the ship! Krogenar was cutting away the remains of the ship that he deemed unnecessary.
She stared down at a slab of armor plate and shook her head. One shot from another airship, and the strider and his wicker vehicle would be in flames. A sudden wind whipped Laisha's black robes, and a ball of lightning seemed to open before the ship. As the ship was pulled into the existential tear, the wizardress stabbed her walking staff into the soft ground, and steeled herself against the pull of it. The bamboo ship skidded clumsily into the portal, digging up the grass.
She covered her mouth to stifle her laughter when she saw the ship re-emerge at the other side of the clearing, where a nearby tree promptly fell across its bow. Bloody cursing echoed across to her, and she strolled to her friend and let her veil of invisibility fall away. It was a momentary reprieve from the sadness that was creeping into her heart.
.....
The Weave slid across Laisha's face like the finest silk. Her eyes opened when the sensation ceased, and she found herself on the other side of the Sea of Swords.
While it was usual for Krogenar to be so far from The Forest of Mysteries, it was unusual for him to be building anything.
The female drow passed through Ardeep Forest, Waterdeep City was marked by a distant black cloud to the west. In the clearing, she spied an airship of NyTek design: a Hammerhead.
Murmuring a word of power, she was assumed into the folds of The Weave. From a pouch at her waist she withdrew a small vial of oil. Sprinkling it over herself, her scent was neutralized. After eighty years, Krogenar could scent her easily, cloaked or no.
"An airship? Nay, it canna be," she thought. She remembered Krogenar's first encounter with an airship had induced powerful revulsion in his spirit and his body. He had railed against the idea of bypassing the journey for the sake of the destination. It was like rushing to the point of intimacy with a woman, without dallying to enjoy the contours of the landscape first. That, and the high speed oftravel hadthrown the strider's finely tuned sense of balance into havok. He had staggered through the hallways as though drunk. All his senses had screamed that they were moving dangerously fast, but there was no true danger.
As she neared, Laisha noticed that much of the airship was covered by leather hides stretched across a bamboo platform. Puzzled, she stood beneath the ship.
Looking up into it, she saw a flash of steel. A metal plate dropped towards her. Waving a hand at the wayward armor, it veered away and skidded on the grass. The glade was littered, she noticed, with more armor plates.
Her first impression had been that the bamboo was for making scaffolding needed for altering the ship. To her horror, she realized that the bamboo _was the ship! Krogenar was cutting away the remains of the ship that he deemed unnecessary.
She stared down at a slab of armor plate and shook her head. One shot from another airship, and the strider and his wicker vehicle would be in flames. A sudden wind whipped Laisha's black robes, and a ball of lightning seemed to open before the ship. As the ship was pulled into the existential tear, the wizardress stabbed her walking staff into the soft ground, and steeled herself against the pull of it. The bamboo ship skidded clumsily into the portal, digging up the grass.
She covered her mouth to stifle her laughter when she saw the ship re-emerge at the other side of the clearing, where a nearby tree promptly fell across its bow. Bloody cursing echoed across to her, and she strolled to her friend and let her veil of invisibility fall away. It was a momentary reprieve from the sadness that was creeping into her heart.
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