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Author Topic: Time's Up  (Read 1182 times)
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Agran Velion
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« on: 13 October 2010, 07:12:19 »

Cyhalloi was cold, the wind was biting and digging into his skin and drew him closer to the fire. He could feel the snow even through the heavy fur coat he had draped over his shoulders, the frozen water clung to him and chilled his bones. His breath was like fog, heavy and thick, he recalled the marshes he had visited when researching the Tei’Hai, the low fogs that hugged the ground low and gave all of his search parties bad feelings. Even the orcs were effected by the cold, their heavy plate armour had no doubt reached a temperature so cold even ice would could not compare to it.

The orc mercenaries were garbed in the best armour and wielded the best weapons a Compendiumist Apprentice could pay for…which wasn’t technically the best. He had equipped them well enough however, thick plate armour and chainmail, and halberds, long swords, and orcish warbows for their weapons. The mercenaries numbered in over a dozen, two dozen were purchased, but several had been sent to New Santhala to deliver the newest edition of the crossbow, he hadn’t heard from them yet, he worried for their safety.

It had been about a week, he had ran, he had hid, he had bought the best mercenaries he could afford. Agran Velion gazed across the tundra and wondered, not for the first time, if he had made the wrong choice by criticizing Valan Nonesuch.

"Vhodka is wonderful..."-Agran Velion
Valan Nonesuch
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« Reply #1 on: 13 October 2010, 14:26:14 »

From out of the wind and biting chill emits a grim howling. The snow blew up in the faces of the mercenaries and then subsided to calm. Burried in the ground was a great shard of twisted black rock. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to have a packet stuffed into a crevice wrapped in twine. The contents of the package, a bundle of notes, marked in distinctive gold ink, a sealed envelope, and a bent and rusted butter knife. The edges of the packet were smoking slightly.

"Apprentice Velion," the letter began, "as you may have noticed, my absence from the compendium halls has left me somewhat incapable of returning the notes you left on this crossbow. I have finally found the time to have them brought to me in Ravaelem and have found them wanting. How you expect to complete them in Cyhalloi without an exemplar or other research materials is beyond me. I suggest you return forthwith.

Hoping this finds you well,
Valan Nonesuch

Post Script:
You may wish to start running. My understanding is that rock from the Mists can be unstable."

The rock began to emit a series of disturbing noises, wails and moans of a harrowing volume. Those mercenaries that had not already fled, turned tail at this.

Beyond the horizon where the earth and the heavens meet
lies a certain point where they are not joined together and where, by stooping,
one might pass under the roof of the heavens.
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