Leaning on his battered old Halberd the mail clad
guard sat back on the wooden railing of the bridge, the humid heat was
oppressive even in the darkness of night. Letting out an exhausted sigh he
removed his helm and set it atop the railing running a hand through his sweaty
hair and with eyes cast back towards the keep behind him. "Fuck I hate this job"
he muttered to himself as he lifted his arm to rub along the back of his neck,
sticky and itchy from the sweat. His eyes widened as he felt the sharp jab under
his armpit, his shout of pain silenced as a gloved hand sealed firmly over his
mouth, trying to struggle he felt the sharp cut slice through the exposed
leather of his underarm deep into his ribcage. It was all over before it even
started, the struggling twitch in the Troll's arms finally gave way to a limp
jerk as his blade found the weak spot in the guards armor and shoved his blade
right into his heart. Perhaps a design flaw in the great creator races plan, but
the narrow channel of flesh and muscle that lead directly to the heart was no
match for the rapid sawing in and out of the blade, ensuring the practiced blade
of the Troll sped the man's journey to his maker. Drawing the guards blade he
twisted it through his tabard and sank it through his belt before driving it
into the thick wood of the railing. Stepping quickly away he sank back down over
the edge of the bridge leaving the guard to slump on the railing, the weight of
his body supported by his belt and tabard. Peering up at the keep the Troll
moved quickly, at first glance the Guard appeared to just be resting but closer
inspection would rapidly reveal the truth, so time was at a precious
minimum.
Reaching the wall of the Keep, sharp eyes quickly scanned the battlements, his form almost invisible against the water of the moat illuminated by the light of the moon, rested looking to find a pattern in the passing of the guards above. A large hand slipped into his pack producing a a three pronged grappling hook attached to a length of silken cord, crouching down he tugged out a length of crusty dried bread and broke it into three pieces impaling each on the end of the spikes. Eyes watched the battlement above, eager and ready and when the time presented itself his arm snapped up sending the grappling hook upwards and over the top, an ear cocked heard only a soft crunch as the bread absorbed the hit on the stone and broke apart leaving the metal hook to sink and grip into the wooden substructure on the ledge of the stone battlement. Giving an appraising tug he quickly slid rope between two toed feet and rapidly ascended the cord, rolling over the top and tossing the hook and rope into the water below with a small splash, a quick sweep of his foot sent the crumbled bread scattering, obscuring the method of entry in seconds. Turning on his heel he bolted for the stairs leading down, tucking into the darkness of a doorway he pressed his body back into the shadow willing the shadows to creep further down obscuring his movements as two guards passed by his position unaware. Eyes closed he expanded his perceptions out feeling the shadow around him, focusing on his training he reached out with unseen hands drawing curtains of shadow around nearby light sources, dimming them ever so slightly to let the shadows grow in that courtyard, opening the path to the tower looming across the open ground.
With a burst of measured speed he bolted across the courtyard leaping from shadow to shadow to mask his passing, at the last moment his blade flew free of it's sheath slicing through empty air as the shadow eclipsed about him, making that blade find not air, but the exposed neck of a guard standing watch over a large oaken door. Allowing the momentum to carry him he aimed a spinning kick at the guards stomach sending the gurgling guard flying backwards onto the soft ground beyond the tower. Eyes obscured in shadow watched the man clutch at his neck trying to stem the flow of lifeblood as it poured out from his slashed throat, each attempted scream sending a wretched spray of hot gore onto the ground around him. Having not the time nor inclination to watch the outcome of his grizzly craft the Troll tried the door, tugging it open he quickly slipped inside and closed it behind him. Turning to look over the room he froze in place as a robed human rose before him his hands raised in alarm, the surprise written clearly on the face of Human and Troll alike. Eyes snapped to the stairs leading to the tower above before quickly returning to the human whose hands lowered to aim at the Troll, wiggling his digits wildly the man barked out in broken Orcish "HAH HAH! My Power Will Consume You Tr-". Unfortunately as bold and stirring as his speech may have been it was cut short buy the curved blade sticking out from between his eyebrows, with a confused stunned look the man had time enough to cross his eyes trying to see what rudely interrupted his words...and his life in fact before falling forward onto the table. Eyeing the unmoving mage the Troll snorted "Ahh shaddup" and quickly ran towards the stairs leading up.
Reaching the top he found an enormous Library, stocked from floor to ceiling with every kind of Tome, Scroll and Libram a Sorcerer could ever want. Quickly moving around he selected various texts and Scrolls from memory, stuffing them into his pack as he collected the virtual shopping list he was sent to gather, yet one was missing the most important one on his list and quickly rescanning the shelves he confirmed it was not here. With a low grumbling growl he looked to the stairs leading upwards and hung his head, if it wasn't here...then the master of the tower surely had it, something he had hoped wouldn't be the case, guards and apprentices are one thing...Archmages are another entirely. Turning to start up the stairs he paused a moment as a title caught his eye, peering at the spine of the book it had etched in garish gold print 'Troll Sex Magic'. Shifty eyes searched left and right a moment as he quickly tucked that tome into his pack as well...for..you know later investigation....after all Troll culture was important. Finishing his ascent of the stairs he found a small hallway with another door and pressed his ear quickly to the door to listen to what was going on in within.
Hearing no sound he tried the handle and found it predictably locked and given the thick door was entirely to heavy to kick in he slipped his fingers into a pouch on his leg withdrawing his picks. With practiced ease driven by years and years of practice he held an ear to the lock as he began to work on it, deftly lifting and pinning tumblers into place until with a satisfied grunt he heard the click of the lock come open. Stuffing his picks away and confident he made little to no sound he slowly pulled open the door and started inside. His eyes narrowed as he tried to adjust to the brightness of the room which seemed oddly well illuminated for a bedchamber at this hour, and it was then he realized that the source of the illumination was rapidly flying in his direction on the form of ball of flame an arms length in size. "Chit!" was all he managed to say before the ball impacted at his feet, a burst of heat and fire washing over him knocking the air from his lungs and hurling him back roughly to slam into the stone wall of the hallway. Dazed and singed he tried to use his arms to lift himself up and found his vision blurry, and a loud ringing in his hears nearly deafened him. Staring down at the smoldering carpet under him he could hear words, distant and jumbled like heard through water, and he slowly turned his head to look up. Barely five meters from him stood the Archmage, his arms waving wildly as he chanted, the enraged expression on his face clearly outlined as a globe of fire the size of a man circled above his head, throwing his arms outwards towards him the Mage clearly sought to finish off the wounded Troll. His body slow and sluggish responded with the first thought that came to his mind, and the Troll rolled to one side kicking the door closed as he fell back against the inner wall for cover.
A loud explosion rocked the tower shaking it to the foundation as large gouts of flame surged out from under the stop of the door, and a roar of flame heated the the stone of the tower to the point some of it began to crack. Blinking slowly the Troll dared to peek his head out from the balled up form he had assumed and watched as the heavy door creaked and slowly fell down in the hallway with a THUNK, the back of it smoking and on fire. Risking a quick glance around the door jam inside he saw the Archmage...or what was left of him laying on his back, blown clear across the room, charred and smoking. Letting out a relieved laugh, he leaned against the wall laughing so hard tears rolled down his cheeks as he rose to his shaky feet and gathered up his pack. Stumbling inside he spotted a large tome on a nearby desk and rushed over to it quickly patting out the smoking leather binding enwrapping it. Making out the words on the binding this was the last book he came for and he blinked as he read the title 'Ki'Rahn Sha'lai - The Poetry of The Blind Prophet'.."poetry!?" he thought "POETRY!? I was nearly cooked for damned POETRY?". With an annoyed growl he stuffed it into his pack..which like the book and himself were slightly burned, making a mental note to ask more questions in the future when Doc sends him on a mission. The sound of shouting in the tower below quickly brought him back to the reality of the situation, as he could clearly make out the mailed clank of feet rushing up stairs.
Running towards a nearby window he kicked the shutters open and peered outside seeing the moat below and the bank beyond. With a quick spin he hurled the pack out the window watching it sail through the air and land on the grassy bank, bouncing and landing in a pile of bushes. Giving a quick look back he could see the shadows in the hallway as torchlight illuminated the forms of men rushing towards the door, stepping to the window his head tilted slightly as he made out the glittering golden links of a necklace from which hung a single large pearl. Smiling he stuffed it into his shirt thinking it would look much better around the neck of his mate then it would in some crusty old burned mages tower, and he turned and hurled himself into the water below, landing with a splash. Scrambling quickly up the bank he found his pack and without looking back charged off into the night to the sounds of the general alarm being called behind him.
Reaching the wall of the Keep, sharp eyes quickly scanned the battlements, his form almost invisible against the water of the moat illuminated by the light of the moon, rested looking to find a pattern in the passing of the guards above. A large hand slipped into his pack producing a a three pronged grappling hook attached to a length of silken cord, crouching down he tugged out a length of crusty dried bread and broke it into three pieces impaling each on the end of the spikes. Eyes watched the battlement above, eager and ready and when the time presented itself his arm snapped up sending the grappling hook upwards and over the top, an ear cocked heard only a soft crunch as the bread absorbed the hit on the stone and broke apart leaving the metal hook to sink and grip into the wooden substructure on the ledge of the stone battlement. Giving an appraising tug he quickly slid rope between two toed feet and rapidly ascended the cord, rolling over the top and tossing the hook and rope into the water below with a small splash, a quick sweep of his foot sent the crumbled bread scattering, obscuring the method of entry in seconds. Turning on his heel he bolted for the stairs leading down, tucking into the darkness of a doorway he pressed his body back into the shadow willing the shadows to creep further down obscuring his movements as two guards passed by his position unaware. Eyes closed he expanded his perceptions out feeling the shadow around him, focusing on his training he reached out with unseen hands drawing curtains of shadow around nearby light sources, dimming them ever so slightly to let the shadows grow in that courtyard, opening the path to the tower looming across the open ground.
With a burst of measured speed he bolted across the courtyard leaping from shadow to shadow to mask his passing, at the last moment his blade flew free of it's sheath slicing through empty air as the shadow eclipsed about him, making that blade find not air, but the exposed neck of a guard standing watch over a large oaken door. Allowing the momentum to carry him he aimed a spinning kick at the guards stomach sending the gurgling guard flying backwards onto the soft ground beyond the tower. Eyes obscured in shadow watched the man clutch at his neck trying to stem the flow of lifeblood as it poured out from his slashed throat, each attempted scream sending a wretched spray of hot gore onto the ground around him. Having not the time nor inclination to watch the outcome of his grizzly craft the Troll tried the door, tugging it open he quickly slipped inside and closed it behind him. Turning to look over the room he froze in place as a robed human rose before him his hands raised in alarm, the surprise written clearly on the face of Human and Troll alike. Eyes snapped to the stairs leading to the tower above before quickly returning to the human whose hands lowered to aim at the Troll, wiggling his digits wildly the man barked out in broken Orcish "HAH HAH! My Power Will Consume You Tr-". Unfortunately as bold and stirring as his speech may have been it was cut short buy the curved blade sticking out from between his eyebrows, with a confused stunned look the man had time enough to cross his eyes trying to see what rudely interrupted his words...and his life in fact before falling forward onto the table. Eyeing the unmoving mage the Troll snorted "Ahh shaddup" and quickly ran towards the stairs leading up.
Reaching the top he found an enormous Library, stocked from floor to ceiling with every kind of Tome, Scroll and Libram a Sorcerer could ever want. Quickly moving around he selected various texts and Scrolls from memory, stuffing them into his pack as he collected the virtual shopping list he was sent to gather, yet one was missing the most important one on his list and quickly rescanning the shelves he confirmed it was not here. With a low grumbling growl he looked to the stairs leading upwards and hung his head, if it wasn't here...then the master of the tower surely had it, something he had hoped wouldn't be the case, guards and apprentices are one thing...Archmages are another entirely. Turning to start up the stairs he paused a moment as a title caught his eye, peering at the spine of the book it had etched in garish gold print 'Troll Sex Magic'. Shifty eyes searched left and right a moment as he quickly tucked that tome into his pack as well...for..you know later investigation....after all Troll culture was important. Finishing his ascent of the stairs he found a small hallway with another door and pressed his ear quickly to the door to listen to what was going on in within.
Hearing no sound he tried the handle and found it predictably locked and given the thick door was entirely to heavy to kick in he slipped his fingers into a pouch on his leg withdrawing his picks. With practiced ease driven by years and years of practice he held an ear to the lock as he began to work on it, deftly lifting and pinning tumblers into place until with a satisfied grunt he heard the click of the lock come open. Stuffing his picks away and confident he made little to no sound he slowly pulled open the door and started inside. His eyes narrowed as he tried to adjust to the brightness of the room which seemed oddly well illuminated for a bedchamber at this hour, and it was then he realized that the source of the illumination was rapidly flying in his direction on the form of ball of flame an arms length in size. "Chit!" was all he managed to say before the ball impacted at his feet, a burst of heat and fire washing over him knocking the air from his lungs and hurling him back roughly to slam into the stone wall of the hallway. Dazed and singed he tried to use his arms to lift himself up and found his vision blurry, and a loud ringing in his hears nearly deafened him. Staring down at the smoldering carpet under him he could hear words, distant and jumbled like heard through water, and he slowly turned his head to look up. Barely five meters from him stood the Archmage, his arms waving wildly as he chanted, the enraged expression on his face clearly outlined as a globe of fire the size of a man circled above his head, throwing his arms outwards towards him the Mage clearly sought to finish off the wounded Troll. His body slow and sluggish responded with the first thought that came to his mind, and the Troll rolled to one side kicking the door closed as he fell back against the inner wall for cover.
A loud explosion rocked the tower shaking it to the foundation as large gouts of flame surged out from under the stop of the door, and a roar of flame heated the the stone of the tower to the point some of it began to crack. Blinking slowly the Troll dared to peek his head out from the balled up form he had assumed and watched as the heavy door creaked and slowly fell down in the hallway with a THUNK, the back of it smoking and on fire. Risking a quick glance around the door jam inside he saw the Archmage...or what was left of him laying on his back, blown clear across the room, charred and smoking. Letting out a relieved laugh, he leaned against the wall laughing so hard tears rolled down his cheeks as he rose to his shaky feet and gathered up his pack. Stumbling inside he spotted a large tome on a nearby desk and rushed over to it quickly patting out the smoking leather binding enwrapping it. Making out the words on the binding this was the last book he came for and he blinked as he read the title 'Ki'Rahn Sha'lai - The Poetry of The Blind Prophet'.."poetry!?" he thought "POETRY!? I was nearly cooked for damned POETRY?". With an annoyed growl he stuffed it into his pack..which like the book and himself were slightly burned, making a mental note to ask more questions in the future when Doc sends him on a mission. The sound of shouting in the tower below quickly brought him back to the reality of the situation, as he could clearly make out the mailed clank of feet rushing up stairs.
Running towards a nearby window he kicked the shutters open and peered outside seeing the moat below and the bank beyond. With a quick spin he hurled the pack out the window watching it sail through the air and land on the grassy bank, bouncing and landing in a pile of bushes. Giving a quick look back he could see the shadows in the hallway as torchlight illuminated the forms of men rushing towards the door, stepping to the window his head tilted slightly as he made out the glittering golden links of a necklace from which hung a single large pearl. Smiling he stuffed it into his shirt thinking it would look much better around the neck of his mate then it would in some crusty old burned mages tower, and he turned and hurled himself into the water below, landing with a splash. Scrambling quickly up the bank he found his pack and without looking back charged off into the night to the sounds of the general alarm being called behind him.
No comments:
Post a Comment