Brian Rogers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
subplotkudzu) wrote2007-01-31 06:49 pm
subplotkudzu) wrote2007-01-31 06:49 pm
Entry tags:
Emirikol, Part I scene 6
Undeterred by the noises ahead of them our four stalwart heroes pressed on, knowing that doing so would mean spending the evening in the company of the coach horses, which their coachman had brought into the room to get them out of the storm. Stll, such hardships must be taken with good grace, and the quartet bedded down for the night, with Cybele, Hiram and their coachman taking turns watching the entrances and tending the fire. The only sign come morning of the room's earlier verminous intruders is the contented sensation in the belly of Renee, the lady Florane's reptilian familiar.
With the morning the storm had lessened to the traditional north winter rain, and the coachman said that he should be able to get the carriage back on the road in minimal time. Deitrich spoke for them all when he told that worthy to not declare the repairs finished until he was certain, and the companions took the additional time to explore the other passages out of their campsite quarters. The coachman watched them head to the north with the surety that comes from noble upbringing and valorous hearts, and a few moments later heard a scream wrenched from the very puts of hell. The animals went wild, defying his best attempts to calm them, and to the coachman was most relieved when Hiram returned to assist him; the young gentleman was able to sing a calming song, accompanying himself on his hurdy-gurdy (the very paragon of instruments) that quickly restores the sense of equine equilibrium.
When the coachman plucked up the courage to ask what had occurred, Hiram informed him that a sarcophagus in the northern room was topped by a flying demon head, but that Deitrich had been able to skewer the thing through the eye as it charged and pin it to the wall with his rapier, that the others might make short work of it. If Hiram failed to mention how the demon's scream had incapacitated him in unnatural terror, well, vanity is a fault not know only in youth. Within a few moments the others had returned, informing Hiram that the stone casket did indeed have hinges (a point of some debate earlier) and that inside were both ashes and a ring of magical nature and extraordinary craftsmanship, it's circle depicting a hand wielding a quill pen.
With that the nobles headed down the southern passage, and a few moments later Cybele emerged, asking in passing of the coachman were familiar with a symbol of a face with two bleeding closed fists in place of eyes. At his stammering certainty that no, he had never seen such a horrific thing she headed deeper into the Tor, returning bearing a small sledge, crow and spike recovered from the beast men's excavating equipment. Within a few moments the sound Hiram singing again, the sorts of songs that dwaves and men used when breaking up the stones for construction. Overlaid on that was a hammer striking a spike and the a striking stone, followed almost immediately by a loud exhalation of air and a yelp.
Whack - pffft! Ugh!
Whack - pffft! ugh!
"Lay some cloaks down over it..." comes Deitrich's voice.
Whack - pffft! ugh!
Then a brief pause, The lady Florane exclaiming "that's it, someone else can try."
Whack - pffft! ugh!
Whack - pffft! Ugh!
"That's broken it. Who puts that many needles in a chest trap?" Muttered Hiram.
"Inside there's just a huge supply of needles and springs I expect..." came Melas' unmistakable baritone.
"No, it's another skull... and it's circlet is magical," Came Cybele's whisper, carried through the stone of the Tor to the coachman's sharp ears. With that the coachman figured the rest were things he ought not hear, and he returned outside to finish repairs...
after a few seconds the noblemen returned, with Cybele bearing a written description of the stone chest's lock, Hiram and Deitrich carrying the chest's contents (not just the skull, with pearl eyes and an enchanted generals circlet) and Melas looking only slightly the worse for wear from the venom still in his system. Within short order the items of interest in the Tor were packed and made ready for their coachman to strap to the roof of his vehicle that the noblemen might return to the road to Emirikol, bearing some treasure and much mystery.
To be continued...With the morning the storm had lessened to the traditional north winter rain, and the coachman said that he should be able to get the carriage back on the road in minimal time. Deitrich spoke for them all when he told that worthy to not declare the repairs finished until he was certain, and the companions took the additional time to explore the other passages out of their campsite quarters. The coachman watched them head to the north with the surety that comes from noble upbringing and valorous hearts, and a few moments later heard a scream wrenched from the very puts of hell. The animals went wild, defying his best attempts to calm them, and to the coachman was most relieved when Hiram returned to assist him; the young gentleman was able to sing a calming song, accompanying himself on his hurdy-gurdy (the very paragon of instruments) that quickly restores the sense of equine equilibrium.
When the coachman plucked up the courage to ask what had occurred, Hiram informed him that a sarcophagus in the northern room was topped by a flying demon head, but that Deitrich had been able to skewer the thing through the eye as it charged and pin it to the wall with his rapier, that the others might make short work of it. If Hiram failed to mention how the demon's scream had incapacitated him in unnatural terror, well, vanity is a fault not know only in youth. Within a few moments the others had returned, informing Hiram that the stone casket did indeed have hinges (a point of some debate earlier) and that inside were both ashes and a ring of magical nature and extraordinary craftsmanship, it's circle depicting a hand wielding a quill pen.
With that the nobles headed down the southern passage, and a few moments later Cybele emerged, asking in passing of the coachman were familiar with a symbol of a face with two bleeding closed fists in place of eyes. At his stammering certainty that no, he had never seen such a horrific thing she headed deeper into the Tor, returning bearing a small sledge, crow and spike recovered from the beast men's excavating equipment. Within a few moments the sound Hiram singing again, the sorts of songs that dwaves and men used when breaking up the stones for construction. Overlaid on that was a hammer striking a spike and the a striking stone, followed almost immediately by a loud exhalation of air and a yelp.
Whack - pffft! Ugh!
Whack - pffft! ugh!
"Lay some cloaks down over it..." comes Deitrich's voice.
Whack - pffft! ugh!
Then a brief pause, The lady Florane exclaiming "that's it, someone else can try."
Whack - pffft! ugh!
Whack - pffft! Ugh!
"That's broken it. Who puts that many needles in a chest trap?" Muttered Hiram.
"Inside there's just a huge supply of needles and springs I expect..." came Melas' unmistakable baritone.
"No, it's another skull... and it's circlet is magical," Came Cybele's whisper, carried through the stone of the Tor to the coachman's sharp ears. With that the coachman figured the rest were things he ought not hear, and he returned outside to finish repairs...
after a few seconds the noblemen returned, with Cybele bearing a written description of the stone chest's lock, Hiram and Deitrich carrying the chest's contents (not just the skull, with pearl eyes and an enchanted generals circlet) and Melas looking only slightly the worse for wear from the venom still in his system. Within short order the items of interest in the Tor were packed and made ready for their coachman to strap to the roof of his vehicle that the noblemen might return to the road to Emirikol, bearing some treasure and much mystery.
no subject
How true. I love the never-ending supply of needles in the chest.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2007-02-01 02:04 pm (UTC)(link)Bec