Trademeet

Remove all ads!

Dalamar lept off the wall onto a small building, a group of soldiers patrolled the courtyard below. He pounced silently on one, landing on his shoulders and slicing his neck artery at the same instant. IT was dark enough that his assassination went unnoticed, two were talking nearby and one was near the other wall urinating. He went for the pair, somersaulted above, slashing out his knives. One took a knife in his eye going into his brain, the other took it in the cheek. He was able to cry out before his neck was broken by the toe of Dalamar's boot. The urinating one, held a spear and threw it at Dalamar, Dal caught it, spun it around and launched it back. Surprisingly he got his sheild up, but the pine wood didn't stop the iron from breaking through it and piercing the man's heart.

Dalamar stole some souls and ran up the stairs that lead to the hall, a guard had his back to him, Dalamar sucked in a breath. And gave thee man a verocious bear hug, his suit underneath, sprung ou it's spikes and pierced the man in many places. He ran on, leaving the man's soul unstolen.

 

Elwithral carelessly floated along the wall, silently humming the tune of an elven song used to rattle the brains of other humanoids. Elwithral often used it to pass by mortals unnoticed; although, there were no more guards on this section of the wall, he just liked the tune.

Suddenly, an imminent sense of danger rushed at Elwithral like a Rashemeninan barbarian. Elwithral braced himself as the feeling ended, and bent the light quickly. He sent a thought to Dalamar, who he sensed was creeping through a dimly lit hallway.

Fyr, did you feel that!?

 

"Usstan xunus ke satiir ol, ol zhahus z'ress, drill naut gareth z'lonzic ulu vrine'winith ussta velven, Dorn ser ukta pholor ukt yiben, saph l'Ilythiiri telanth, "nindyn vel'uss kyorl ninta ratha thalra elghinn dal l'alust." Dalamar spoke in Drow, he liked the language and he didn't like the feeling that hit him. And mind reading wasn't that hard to intercept, he doubted anyone spoke Drow here. One can never be too cautious.

*For one's who don't understand Drow, here's it in Common. "I did indeed feel it, it was powerful, but not strong enough to stop my blades, I'll keep him on his toes, like the Drow say, "those who watch their backs meet death from the front"."

 

Tania slipped along the wall her hammer connecting with the head of guard. She caught him and silently dropped the body. Moving on around the wall she saw a group of guards ahead. Too many to take out quickly, she sent a mist of sleep over them and they sank to floor. Easily disposing of them she moved on but suddenly she felt a powerful presence. She stopped and cast about her. The feeling was coming from a building across the courtyard and it made her shiver.

 

Elwithral felt the prescence again, this time more powerful. He cast a protective spell silently and kept moving along the wall. He looked to the east, The sun will rise in a few hours. We have little time. Elwithral bounded down a flight of stairs, and caught an unaware guard in the neck with his swords. He caught the man and set him on the ground. Elwithral looked around; he was in a long, wide corridor, with several torches lining the wall. He sensed more chambers beyond the wall beside him.

He wondered to himself, Where would Tyraquit be? He may not even be here. I cannot even sense his life.

 

Dalamar heard footsteps coming down the hall way, he leapt and shot out his legs. He was being proped up by pushing against the wall with bothe legs. A guard walked towards, and then underneath him. Darkness enshrouded him, as did a globe of shade.

Dalamar ran up the hall, he burst into a large chamber, he was on a balcony looking down on the throne room. A large man stood there, dead ugly and hoisting nice axes.

I've found big ugly. Do you want me to killl him now. or give someelse a chance?

Dalamar just said that to make Elwithrawl happy. He liked being the leader, but he'd never admit it, and Dalamar didn't mind letting him think so, but he never did really follow any his commands. He jumped off the balcony and zoned in on the kill. The barbarian eyed him and took up his axes. He was too late, his eyes widened as Dalamars swords came in an arc.

Dalamar landed gently, the barbarians head bounced noisely at his side, the body slumped down with a thud.

Well thats taken care of one.... Dalamar turned, the body had risen. A new head was sitting on it's shoulders, it looked bigger too. He sent a blade of darkness and sliced the meaty thigh. The barbarian fell, his leg twitched and sprouted blood, but the blood cloted and the wound healed right before his eyes. Dalamar cursed, regeneration.

Well I guess there is plenty for all of us. He thought as he sliced some meaty sausage fingers. It howled like... well a barbarian, and hoisted his axes. They were fast, they were acurate, but he was messing with the wrong demi-god, and the wrong tiefling. Dalamar did a very nice sommersault in the air, and lashed out some magic missiles at it's eyes. "Damn, they heal too." He tried some fire, but burns were inneffective aswell. Finally he just cut off some limbs for fun, until the others came up with an idea.

 

As the barbarian kept throwing attack and attack towards the pair, regenerating everything they tried to disable, a shadow appeared in the corner. As the pair was currently engaged with the barbarian, they would have a hard time noticing the swift shadow quickly moving towards the large monstrous humanoids.

However, it would be impossible for them to not notice the handaxe that was firmly planted in the back of the barbarian's head only moments later. The barbarian turned to see a man in dark chainmail, a dark cloak, and a helmet with a faceplate covering the scarred appearance of his face.

"Good day, savage. The name would be Ygor Wytchbane, and I need these opponents of yours for later. Mind if I cut in, Irenicus?"

The barbarian responded with swinging his main axe towards Ygor who responded like he promised, with an incut that severed the right hand from the barbarian's arm. However, before Ygor had the chance to swing his axe again, the monster drove his skull into Ygor's which made him stumble and drop his handaxe, leaving Ygor seemingly unarmed and prone on the ground.

 

Elwithral sensed Dalamar's mind speech and ran down the hallway with perfect poise. He took a mental picture of Dalamar's vision and found it quickly. He jumped down into the throneroom and found Dalamar being assaulted by a large man, very ugly and smelly. Elwithral walked towards the battle and took out his swords.

Elwithral then spotted a man beside the battle, looking dizzy and woozy. Elwithral slid the man along the marble floor with a blast of magic, so that he was not in the way. He guessed that the man was a servant of some kind. Elwithral teleported Tania and Galliel to the room as well. The aasimar tried to hold the barbarian with magic, but with little avail. The man's magic resistance was great, but not enough.

Elwithral summoned up dark power, and blasted the barbarian against the opposite wall, giving the group time to plan.

 

Using mind speak Tania called to Elwithral, The heart, if we could stop the heart. That might give us a chance.

 

Replying, Elwithral said, His resistance is blocking Dark and Light Magics; that basically rules out myself and Dalamar. Tania, you are the most fluent in the ways of Water. I sense he is not very resistant to it.

 

Dalamar leapt forward and struck out his black magic. The bolts past the barbarian and slammed the ceiling, bit of mortat fell, and then the whole section gave way. It crumbled down on the beast of a man. When the dust lifted, Dalamar grinned devilishly. The barbarian was crushed, suddenly the rocks went flying and the tattered barbarian, stood there defiantly. His broken bones being repaired quickly.

"Ah, hell! I thought that would work, I am getting tired of this guy." Dalamar groaned.

 

"If he regenerates, why in the Nine Hells would you think that would work!?" Elwithral yelled, frustrated that his magic wasn't working against the monster of a man.

 

Tania reached for the moisture around her and then cast fingers of ice through the body of the barbarian. They closed around his heart tightening until the heart ceased to beat. His body fell to floor. The fingers reached to the brain clawing and shreading it.

She wasn't sure if this was enough but maybe it would give the others time to finish the job.

 

"I dunno, I thought crushing him would..." Dalamar blinked, "well you know the boom, would squish him flat." He punched his hand down into his palm. "Well I tried goddam it I didn't see you trying nothing." With the multiple odd words and use of onomatopeas Dalamar was frustrated. "Why am I talking fuuuuunnnnnnyyyy." He said funny very slow motion like. (He says the rest in slow motion too) "Now why am I talking slow like?" Dalamar gave himself a very quick slap, and joltled his head. "Why me! That was wierd, letsh get on with thish fight." Dalamar eyes widened, hearing his new lisp. "I have a lishp, a Lishp, LISHP!" He shut his mouth and planned never to speak of that experience again. He looked above him and groaned, an imp.

"Damn you wasscaly wimp!" The imp giggled, and ran off, with Dalamar, and his speech inpediment, hot on his heels. "I'm a gonna shlit yout troat!"

Dalamar returned with a new skull on his necklace, talking perfectly fine.

 

A crease appeared in Elwithral's forehead as Dalamar ran off with the imp. He walked over to the body and leaned down. He took a knife from his belt and scratched the body. Blood trickled out of the wound. He waited for a moment, but the cut did not heal.

Elwithral got back to his feet and called Tania over, "I need to use some of your energy to transport the body to my friends near Baldur's Gate, okay?" Tania nodded and they began. Green magic flowed out of their fingertips and encircled the barbarian, transporting him to the headquarters in Baldur's Gate.

 

A small explosion and poof of magical energy appeared near Elwithral. When the smoke cleared, Galliel stood there with a skirt made of grass around her waist, a bag attached to her belt, a glass with orange juice in it in her hand, and nothing else.

She looked around a little bit, then saw Elwithral.

"Damn it, I KNEW that guy was a genie! That dance was going to be fun tonight."

Elwithral and Tania looked at her questioningly.

"Oh, I suppose I should explain. It was fun adventuring with you all and stuff, but then I got the itch for a little sun and sand, you know? So I teleported to this great little island off the coast of Calimport. Great beaches, well endowed pleasure slaves, you really out to go there sometime. Well, anyway, I was talking to this great looking guy, Fabo, and telling him about you guys and all, and I said, 'I wish I knew what those guys were up to now,' and he said, 'Your wish is my command,' and here I am. Go figure."

She looked at her well tanned skin.

"I guess I've gotten enough sun for awhile. And that pirate captain was getting a little too pushy, I'm not sure I could've kept his hands off me for much longer. I guess I'll hang with you guys for awhile again."

Looking at everyone with armor and weapons ready, she said, "Good thing I keep all my gear in my fanny pack. That island's nice, but it's not the type of place you would want to leave any valuables out of eyesight." She took off her pack, opened it up and dumped an enormous amount of stuff onto the ground.

"So who are we fighting now? Why don't you fill me in while I gear up?" She started to put her armor and weapons belts on.

 

After the barbarian had been slayed, Ygor collected his dual handaxes and sheathed them in his belt. Apparently, this was the whole crew he was chasing, but they had another mission in mind. It was time to play it smooth.

"Excuse me, adventurers. I was in the area, looking for something, and I would like to propose a business agreement."

He dusted of the dirt he had unvolountarily gathered during the skirmish, and removed his faceplate. The face showed a bald man with grey eyes and with a scarred face and a Van Dyke-styled beard.

"The name is Ygor of Targos, and I would like to ask you for this; I will aid you in whatever quest you might partake in, and in return, you will listen to the proposition I have after we are done. No other requirement from your side, that is all I ask."

 

Elwithral gave the man a hard stare until he had to avert his grey eyes from the aasimar's white ones. "I'm sorry young Earl Ygor Wytchbane, but I need to know more, and your mind is defended to an extent beyond my power. You carry the skill to destroy spell-weavers. Your blood is ancient, and full of power. Some of which only I can see, and you cannot." Elwithral shifted his body and inclined his head.

"Tell me, young one; do you know to whom you speak? Not many come to us and speak freely."

[ January 18, 2007, 01:01: Message edited by: Elwithral Irenicus ]

 

Ygor smirked slyly. Apparently, his fame, or infame, was larger than he thought, as the man knew of his taken last name from his time amongst the Inquisition, even though Ygor never presented himself with it. He turned his back to the group and donned his helmet again, hiding his appearance quite well.

"It have been many years since someone called me 'young one'. I must say, Irenicus, it is a bit of a fresh air."

He turned back towards the group, grinning heavily from behind the faceplate attached to the helmet.

"But yes, I know of you and of your own bloodline. Of your companions, I do not know, but I'm inclined to learn."

 

"I am Tania, Cleric of Lethander." She studied Ygor impassively. No hint of what she thought showing on her face and then turned to Elwithral and waited silently.