Jessi: Just for you Gwen6.
(Waves fingers in air and Chel appears)
Tiamet: Done?
Jessi: Almost. I do not own Forgotten Realms but the characters are of my own invention.
Chel: Excuse me but what am I doing here?
Jessi: Well, I have this friend right and he... (inaudiable whispers)... with chocolate sauce.
Chel: O.O
Jessi: Anyway on with the fic. Sorry Gwen6...
Three arrows struck Chel as he pinned Vale to the floor, using himself to shield her. Vale watched as he vanished, the magical abilities he possessed taking him away to regenerate.
"Gast!" Vale pulled herself up from the dirt, swearing loudly in her native tongue of Cymraeg. The two paladins began stirring, reaching for their swords instantly.
Vale concentrated, calling upon the power that flowed in her veins... The power of a sorceress...
Magic missiles sailed into the undergrowth, and screams floated up on the breeze.
"Tiamet! Bring your wrath upon them through this, your imperfect vessel," clutching her holy symbol Vale summoned one of the strongest clerical spells she possessed, visualizing the deadly motes of golden light.
A bang like a Shou cannon sounded and Vale was flung against a tree, hard. The elf's spell had failed.
"But... but... Lord Tiamet... Why?" Vale saw the camp in front of her eyes waver and, as her world faded into black, her last though was a desperate plea to Tiamet.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tiamet Pendragon sobbed and fell against a tree. He had heared the plea of the young elven cleric and... he had tried... He'd tried and failed.
Failed his worshippers...
He could hear them now, screaming, pleading... and soon... they would be dying.
He dashed a hand across his leaking, mammal eyes and struck out. He would not fail this one.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Vale came to in a cage and instantly wished she hadn't. These bandits had been unusally precise in their dealings with the magically talented.
Her body was beaten and bruised, expertly so, and they had taken the holy symbol from around her neck and the daggers from her belt. Even if she had her holy symbol she doubted that she could muster the concentration needed for either clerical or sorceress magic.
"You're awake. Good," her cage opened and she was hauled across the ground and onto her feet. To her suprise Vale found she could move without too much difficulty... Maybe they didn't expect her to fight.
She did, however, feign weakness... the element of suprise was needed.
The elf was led into the centre of a ring of bandits. Vale's heart sank.
There were fifteen of them... Much too many to fight. They sat, eating the remains of a few deer carcasses, an almost feral glint in their eyes and weapon within easy reach.
Their leader, a giant of a man with a possible trace of orc blood in him, stood and swaggered over to her,
"Our new prize," he circled her, as though she was a horse he was deciding to buy, "You're wasted on those paladins, my pretty."
Samera and Keroigar were bound and gagged, tied to a post a little way away.
The bandit took her head in one massive hand,
"Maybe your death won't be so swift after all."
Vale smiled,
"Maybe not." She lashed out, kneeing him in the crotch. As she spun to deliver a kick on his chin the other bandits were reaching for weapons, and charging toward her.
Vale fought bravely and skillfully, the Church of the Dragon had taught her well, but eventually they had one man holding each limb while she was pinned, spread-eagled, on the ground. Another human reached causually for the belt holding her white robes in place.
No... Oh please... no! Vale shrieked in her head, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing her plea.
All of a sudden a snarl filled the air and Vale's would-be-rapist was hualed aloft by a slender figure with terrible strength.
The bandits shrank back and Vale didn't blame them. Chel's fighting style was plain terrifying. His alabastar hair writhed in the air like a nest of serpents and his lips were drawned back to reveal fangs.
With a growl he took the bandit's head in his hands and twisted sharply. The human's head lolled loosely, the neck broken.
Vale struggled to her feet as Chel turned on another. He dispatched him by fixing his fangs into the neck and tearing the throat out. He spat his bloody prize onto the floor and batted away an almost tentive sword strike.
The young cleric sobbed and when a hand pushed itself into hers she did not resist as it led her away.
(Waves fingers in air and Chel appears)
Tiamet: Done?
Jessi: Almost. I do not own Forgotten Realms but the characters are of my own invention.
Chel: Excuse me but what am I doing here?
Jessi: Well, I have this friend right and he... (inaudiable whispers)... with chocolate sauce.
Chel: O.O
Jessi: Anyway on with the fic. Sorry Gwen6...
Three arrows struck Chel as he pinned Vale to the floor, using himself to shield her. Vale watched as he vanished, the magical abilities he possessed taking him away to regenerate.
"Gast!" Vale pulled herself up from the dirt, swearing loudly in her native tongue of Cymraeg. The two paladins began stirring, reaching for their swords instantly.
Vale concentrated, calling upon the power that flowed in her veins... The power of a sorceress...
Magic missiles sailed into the undergrowth, and screams floated up on the breeze.
"Tiamet! Bring your wrath upon them through this, your imperfect vessel," clutching her holy symbol Vale summoned one of the strongest clerical spells she possessed, visualizing the deadly motes of golden light.
A bang like a Shou cannon sounded and Vale was flung against a tree, hard. The elf's spell had failed.
"But... but... Lord Tiamet... Why?" Vale saw the camp in front of her eyes waver and, as her world faded into black, her last though was a desperate plea to Tiamet.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tiamet Pendragon sobbed and fell against a tree. He had heared the plea of the young elven cleric and... he had tried... He'd tried and failed.
Failed his worshippers...
He could hear them now, screaming, pleading... and soon... they would be dying.
He dashed a hand across his leaking, mammal eyes and struck out. He would not fail this one.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Vale came to in a cage and instantly wished she hadn't. These bandits had been unusally precise in their dealings with the magically talented.
Her body was beaten and bruised, expertly so, and they had taken the holy symbol from around her neck and the daggers from her belt. Even if she had her holy symbol she doubted that she could muster the concentration needed for either clerical or sorceress magic.
"You're awake. Good," her cage opened and she was hauled across the ground and onto her feet. To her suprise Vale found she could move without too much difficulty... Maybe they didn't expect her to fight.
She did, however, feign weakness... the element of suprise was needed.
The elf was led into the centre of a ring of bandits. Vale's heart sank.
There were fifteen of them... Much too many to fight. They sat, eating the remains of a few deer carcasses, an almost feral glint in their eyes and weapon within easy reach.
Their leader, a giant of a man with a possible trace of orc blood in him, stood and swaggered over to her,
"Our new prize," he circled her, as though she was a horse he was deciding to buy, "You're wasted on those paladins, my pretty."
Samera and Keroigar were bound and gagged, tied to a post a little way away.
The bandit took her head in one massive hand,
"Maybe your death won't be so swift after all."
Vale smiled,
"Maybe not." She lashed out, kneeing him in the crotch. As she spun to deliver a kick on his chin the other bandits were reaching for weapons, and charging toward her.
Vale fought bravely and skillfully, the Church of the Dragon had taught her well, but eventually they had one man holding each limb while she was pinned, spread-eagled, on the ground. Another human reached causually for the belt holding her white robes in place.
No... Oh please... no! Vale shrieked in her head, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing her plea.
All of a sudden a snarl filled the air and Vale's would-be-rapist was hualed aloft by a slender figure with terrible strength.
The bandits shrank back and Vale didn't blame them. Chel's fighting style was plain terrifying. His alabastar hair writhed in the air like a nest of serpents and his lips were drawned back to reveal fangs.
With a growl he took the bandit's head in his hands and twisted sharply. The human's head lolled loosely, the neck broken.
Vale struggled to her feet as Chel turned on another. He dispatched him by fixing his fangs into the neck and tearing the throat out. He spat his bloody prize onto the floor and batted away an almost tentive sword strike.
The young cleric sobbed and when a hand pushed itself into hers she did not resist as it led her away.