View Full Version : It's Living That's The Hard Part
(This thread is being continued from here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=2439))
Morality was rather low when the unusual band of people ventured into the thick woods surrounding Minas Teradryn. The –mostly new- soldiers of the Bladesinger’s Guild looked like they were about to jump of their horses and run off. And it was hard to blame them for it. It was a clear night, much like the night when Krugor got captured, but it still had a mischievous feeling to it. The big, ancient trees seemed to be alive and whenever an owl would let out even the slightest of sound a Bladesinger recruit would jump up in fear. This wasn’t a war-hardened group of soldiers. These were mostly new, freshly recruited, Elven youngsters. Officer Sidrall was up for a real challenge with these boys, not even counting the skeleton that might destroy the entire plan.
But up until the Obsidian Spire everything went according to plan. Nothing strange happened, no unexpected ambushes took place. The group started to feel more at ease near the building that looked a lot like Velicë Arta, the Grand Palace of Eluriand. Descending from their horses the young soldiers grabbed their weapons and entered the five walls of Minas Teradryn. Within those walls they found a dark and misty courtyard with a dried out fountain and several rotting trees. The soil was colored black and plants, bushes and other flora was decaying. This was the complete opposite of its twin brother in the Elven capital. This tower represented death and decay, while the one in Eluriand created feelings of hope and power amongst the Raiaerian population.
“Hello?” Krugor asked in a tone that revealed his frightened state of mind.
No response came and the group felt a little more at ease, thinking they might be safe after all, hoping that they would just leave now. But Officer Sidrall Warzephyr didn’t let it go at this, he wanted to know for sure that the mighty warlock Xem’zûnd was dead. And just when he was about to speak to his men the massive, rotting wooden door shrieked open and revealed its interior.
“I guess we can enter” the skeleton said, while entering the tower.
Sidrall quickly followed his undead guide but was rudely refused by the Spire. When Krugor entered the building and motioned for the rest to follow the door slammed shut, leaving the Bladesinger’s Guild with nothing but a locked, mysterious tower.
“Those people want to enter too!” Krugor cried, receiving no response.
It was painfully clear that whoever controlled the building, even if it was the building itself, wanted Krugor and only Krugor. The rest of the Elves waiting outside weren’t allowed in the building. They were rudely denied entrance.
“Hello?” the undead man said, hoping to get as much of a reply as he had gotten just now. There was something freaky going on in this tower and Krugor realised that to the fullest. Something was going on here and he needed to know the specific details if he wanted to sleep at night.
Krugor strolled through the deserted halls of the Obsidian Spire as he pondered about why the Elves were denied entry. As soon as he had entered the halls the door had slammed shut, blocking the way for his companions to join him. This wasn’t just an abandoned tower, there was something bigger going on here and Krugor knew it. There was no other way why a massive, extremely heavy wooden door would just open and close so easily and so unannounced. Even without any kind of winds or gusts of air. This was something big going on and the skeleton had sunk into it up to his waist.
The sound of his leather boots against the stone floor echoed throughout the entire building as Krugor ventured further and further into the tower. Hall after hall, stair after stair, he continued his journey. He had just assumed that the door wouldn’t open again, leaving him cut off from the rest of the group. Maybe he was wrong in his assumption or maybe he wasn’t. The undead Master Chef didn’t really care either way; he just wanted to get as far away from those silly Elves as possible. Marking him as a minion of Xem’zûnd; he still couldn’t believe any of it. Just a bed for the night, he wanted nothing more. If he would survive this crazy adventure he would steer clear of Raiaera forever, he promised himself. Damn Elves, they were just too proud to understand, to even listen. Nobody wanted to listen to a skeleton. The fools.
As time progressed Krugor started to tire. He been walking through the twin palace for quite some time now and there still hadn’t be any clue as to what was going on in the middle of the night, in the darkest of towers. The halls were beautiful, that was true, but in the entire building the sent of death was represented. The feeling of something dark, of something bigger, of something sinister going about its business was present. It was only a matter of time before the skeleton would find out what it was for he had no other choice than to stay inside the building. The other option; locked up until he would die –again- was not something he liked to think about, so anything other than that was extremely welcome.
“Welcome, my son” a voice suddenly cried out, echoing through the entire building; “It seems you have made quite a journey. It pleasures me to see you again, Krugor. You’ve grown; you’re no longer the man you used to be.”
Looking around desperately Krugor entered a state of panic. The one talking, the one with the nerve-wrecking voice knew him. It even knew his name. How could this be possible? How could somebody all the way out here knew about him? Maybe it was some sort of friend of Talidus, some sort of fellow Necromancer pulling a prank on him. Yes, that had to be it, there was no other reasonable explanation.
Other than the one that marked Krugor as a minion of Xem’zûnd after all…
“We’re glad you finally decided to return to us” the voice continued, still not giving any information about its name or identity. “It’s an honor to finally meet you face to face, Mister Master Chef.” The voice was much like Krugor’s own, one of death and decay. One of a person long gone.
And his fears became reality when another skeleton came walking towards him. The second undead appeared from right in front of him, as if it just revealed itself out of nothing. Wrapped in a thick mist it continued speaking to the cook, telling him of his uncanny actions and behaviour. It only stopped talking until it was face to face with Krugor. And to the undead cook’s total surprise it looked exactly like him. It seemed to be an exact replica of Krugor. Even his distinctive rucksack was worn in the same way he did, with the steel pot hanging slightly to the left.
“Follow me” it said, in a manner that would make even the sluttiest of women think twice about following.
Krugor did what he was told, realising he didn’t really have any other choice, and quickly arrived near the main ballroom. A giant room, almost completely empty, with no furniture. The only things present in this particular room of the Obsidian Spire were an uncountable number of skeletons. All looking exactly like Krugor, even matching his rare steel bolts in the upper left arm.
“Welcome dear Krugor” they all said at the same time.
The ballroom was decorated in a way like only the richest of people would think about doing. The floor was made from the finest slaps of black marble and the walls were made from real pieces of obsidian, giving the room that the certain atmosphere of darkness that seemed to cover the entire palace. There were no windows in the room, the only source of light was a humongous chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling. It gave the room a strange, silver glow.
“Now, let’s talk about you. Do you know why we brought you here?”
Krugor could answer that question with a quick, meaningless no. But deep, deep inside he knew that he was brought here to be punished for his acts against the Elven community. He even managed to get an entire patrol of Elven scouts killed without leaving his prison.
“I’m here to pay for my crimes...” he said.
Krugor couldn’t quite grasp what was going on here. He played a bit with his shirt as he waited anxiously for what was to come. Things had gone from bad to weird the second the skeleton stepped inside the Obsidian Spire. One moment he was their to be a guide for a group of Elves looking to slay a warlock and another he was their to be a special guest on a party with several creatures exactly like him.
Suddenly footsteps echoed throughout the ballroom. The sturdy boots were being placed on the marble floor with grace, the sound of the footsteps seeming almost rhythmical. The group of skeletons made way for the person that came walking towards them. Krugor and the undead that had escorted him to the room stood in front of the group as it divided into two groups, making a pathway. A man walked up to Krugor, smiling broadly. He was wearing a long, red dress and had thick glasses on the tip of his nose. Brown hair at neck-length covered half of his face as he wore some of it diagonal over his face.
“Welcome, my son” he said as he spread out his arms, trying to hug Krugor.
The cook was completely shocked by this strange figure and rudely pushed him away, almost causing him to trip over. The man looked at him with a face that revealed his state of surprise. He hadn’t expected the skeleton to react like this and needed a moment to recover from this. But Krugor wouldn’t give him that chance as he shouted at all the people in the room;
“Enough of this nonsense. Does somebody care to explain what’s going on here?”
A room filled with slender corpses stared at him but they didn’t spoke. Not even a single word or a simple sigh. They just had stared at him, intensely. The only living man present seemed to have recovered and brushed of his clothes. Adjusting his glasses he moved closer to Krugor.
“These, dear Krugor, are your brothers.”
“What are you talking about? They don’t even look like me!”
A silly thing to say, he knew, for they looked exactly like him. But it was something he didn’t dare think about. There was something really fishy going on and these “Krugor-clones” were a big part of it.
“Oh yes they do. I created them to look like you. They’re created to be like you.”
“But…why?” Krugor asked, suddenly feeling very special.
The man didn’t answered quickly, for he first stroked through his air and looked at his creations with a look in his eye that reminded Krugor a lot of Talidus. How many had he killed to create all of these skeletons?
“I’m sorry. It was rude of me not to introduce myself first. Let me correct my error.”
The man in the dress cleared his throat and walked up to his skeletons. Laying his arms around the shoulders of two of the undead he smiled at Krugor.
“My name is Xem’zûnd. And these are minions in my army.”
For a moment Krugor was dumbfounded. This man claimed to be the great warlock Xem’zûnd, the one who was supposed to be his employer. But he didn’t looked at all like how Krugor pictured the man to look. The cook had expected to find a man like Officer Sidrall, a man of age but still charismatic enough to show some strength. Instead there was this, relatively, young man with a numerous amount of Krugor-clones claiming to be a feared, powerful warlock that had battled with the Elves for a long time. This couldn’t be.
“I don’t believe you” Krugor said honestly.
“Why not?” the man asked a bit disappointed.
“You don’t look anything like a Xem’zûnd that caused a great war.”
“That’s because I’m not that Xem’zûnd. I’m his nephew, coincidentally with the same name.”
“H-his nephew?”
“Yes. But if that’s to confusing for you, you may also call me by my second name. Warren.”
“Warren? Warren…the warlock?”
“Well, I’m not really a warlock” Warren said, turning his back on Krugor taking several steps towards the back of the room.
He took a flask of water from his pocket and slowly poured it over one of the skeletons in room. Krugor watched intensely as Warren revealed his true skills. The wet skeleton shivered for a second, before it crumbled and dropped to ground as a soaked pile of dirt.
“I can’t summon undead like my uncle did.” He explained; “I’m not a real warlock. I’ve spent my life studying the art of sculptures. I’m a sculptor.”
“But how-“
“Please, let me finish. I’ve always wanted to be like my uncle, so it wasn’t a hard choice to take the Obsidian Spire, his old home, as my own headquarters. It has been my lifetime goal to finish his quest to destroy Eluriand but I just didn’t have the powers to summon a massive army of corpses. And if it wasn’t for the magical clay I found in Fallien I never would’ve come near completing that goal.”
“Magical clay?”
“Yes. I was there on a tour with the Xem’zûnd Warlock Foundation when I discovered it. When I used that specific clay the sculptures I made came alive, with the ability to speak and fight. You don’t have to be a scientist to figure out what I wanted to use the clay for.”
“But why me?” Krugor asked, a little bit impressed by Warren’s story.
“Ah yes, you. That’s basically an ode to you, my friend. I was watching the Cell tournament to get rid of some stress. You wouldn’t believe how stressful the life of a sculptor can be. But anyway, I saw you fighting there and you made an impact on me I’ll never forget. You weren’t that great, if I may be so bold, but you looked great. I have great respect for the necromancer that summoned you, you’re in perfect condition. I immediately decided I wanted to have skeletons just like you!”
Just when Krugor thought that the pieces of the puzzle were coming together, someone came around and threw the entire table upside down again. He needed to start all over to figure things out. He wasn’t one of Xem’zûnd’s spies, as the people of Eluriand thought, but he was part of Warren’s Krugor army. Or was he? They were created to his image, but did that instantly made him part of it? They looked like him, but they weren’t him, he knew that. However, the Elves wouldn’t know that, the Master Chef suddenly realised. If Warren would set out with his army and attack Eluriand than Krugor would never ever be able to show his face in this region again. He felt special that Warren had chosen him, but he needed to stop it now.
“Don’t tell me that you’re going to battle with these guys?” Krugor asked frightened.
“Why not? I’m going to finish what my uncle couldn’t, and you’ll be the one they’ll blame for it. Perfect, right?”
“Not for me!’ Krugor cried out “That would destroy my entire relationship with the Elves.”
“They hate you anyway. Have you already forgotten how they treated you?”
Warren did have a point there, the skeleton admitted. The Raiaeran’s weren’t exactly kind to him and whether or not the sculptor would attack, Krugor would be hated anyway. But it was still wrong to start a war. Even if the Elves, maybe, did deserved it.
“Still, I can’t allow you to do that.”
“You can’t allow me?” Warren burst into laughter and his skeletons quickly followed his example. Krugor was left standing in a room with a no good warlock and hundreds of giggling corpses.
“I’m going to stop you, you hear!” he shouted, trying to get above the laughter. But it only caused them to laugh even harder. It was a stupid thought anyway, how could one skeleton stop a deranged sculptor and his minions.
“Listen, Krugor.” Warren spoke, wiping some tears from his eyes “I didn’t expect that the Bladesinger’s would bring you here. Normally they just shoot skeletons on sight, but apparently they thought you could guide them to the real threat. And they were right about that. However, their puny patrol they send out and the ones that are waiting outside now are nothing but a small obstacle on my path to destruction. I’ll have them killed in a minute, so how could you possibly think you’ll be able to stop me all by yourself?”
Again the room burst into laughter.
“Just wait” Krugor said mumbling “I’ll warn the entire region of Raiaera!”
The undead cook turned around and slammed open the doors of the ballroom, and he quickly ran through the vacant hallways of the Obsidian Spire. He could hear the voice of Warren shouting after him; “Run, Krugor, run! You can’t stop me! They will never believe you!”
It was undeniable that the sculptor was right, but it didn’t bother Krugor. He needed to do something or everything would be lost. He just hoped that he could get through to Officer Sidrall. “You’ll be dead before you reach Eluriand!” Warren continued, his voice slowly fading away.
High Elven Officer Sidrall Warzephyr was shocked to see his former captured skeleton coming back through Minas Teradryn’s main entrance. He and his men had been looking for a way to get in for some time now, but found nothing. The massive doors wouldn’t open and there was no secret entrance hidden somewhere in the courtyard. The only thing his men had found were bones, dried leaves and the occasional broken weapon.
All of the eleven Elves looked up in suspense to see what the skeleton would do now. They wanted to know what happened inside the tower, they needed to know what the status of Xem’zûnd’s army was. Krugor held up his arms and shouted something about hundreds and hundreds of skeletons made from clay that would attack Eluriand. It didn’t take long for the first soldier to laugh, causing a second and third to follow his example but Sidrall quickly motioned them to be quiet. The Officer had heard crazier plans in his life, and he wanted to hear this story.
“Xem’zûnd isn’t in there, but his nephew is. His name is Warren and he’s a sculptor. He has made hundreds of skeletons from special clay from Fallien. They all look like me because he thought I was perfect. Warren’s going to attack Eluriand and blame it all one me, because they look like me!” Krugor spoke, without breathing in between.
“Right.” Sidrall responded, unknowing on how to respond. It all sounded a bit strange. “Do you have any proof of this claim, skeleton? Or are you just looking for a way to get the attention of your true master, Xem’zûnd. It wouldn’t surprise me if you made this up to get us away from here so you and your master can continue planning out horrifying schemes.”
The Elf knew had some trouble deciding if the skeleton was lying. Either way, it would result in a disaster for the Elven community. On one hand there could be a powerful warlock with a strong army of undead, and on the other hand there could be the powerful warlock’s nephew with a massive army of clay sculptures. This wasn’t good.
“Alright, skeleton, let’s say I believe you. How many of those clay skeletons are in there?”
“Hundreds, at least. There’s no way we can take them with this group.” Krugor shouted, hoping that the commander would be wise enough to turn around and get the elites of the Bladesinger’s Guild. These recruits would get horribly slaughtered if they would to act now.
“Hmm.” Warzephyr pondered for a second before gave his response; “We’ll act now. Those pieces of clay are no match for my perfectly trained soldiers!”
The Bladesinger’s had already gathered in the main hallway before Krugor could try to stop them. It seemed that there was no way to reason with these guys. They would just barge in and get killed before they would know what happened. The least Krugor could do is go with them. This was mostly his fault anyway, he thought. If he hadn’t entered Eluriand, if he hadn’t participated in the Cell…if he just hadn’t died this all wouldn’t have happened. He was the one that needed to die, not these poor souls.
“If I can’t stop you than I’m going with you” the skeleton said to Sidrall when they made their way through the vacant halls of the Obsidian Spire. Everything had a black color and there were almost no windows. Several torches along the walls were the only things that gave a bit of light in the building. Screams and screeches could be heard almost constantly, indicating that Warren had returned to his work. Maybe the Officer was right after all. The longer they waited, the more skeletons Warren would have. But if he had just send out a messenger…
“If that pleases you. Just stay out of our way. If you distract us too much we’ll kill you. You’re still our prisoner.” Sidrall had that stern tone in his voice again. He probably felt he had control of the situation.
For what seemed to be an eternity the group ventured further and further into the tower. Krugor hadn’t really paid attention when he first entered the building and, as a result, forgot where the main ballroom was. They were lost and checked every room to be sure that they wouldn’t miss it. With every empty room they passed the group felt stronger and they were probably be underestimating the enemy by now.
“This sucks!” one of the soldiers said suddenly “Where are those bastards? I want to take them down now!”
“Yeah, I can’t wait anymore. Those skeletons need to die quickly!” another agreed.
“Are you all so eager to die?! Please, calm down! We’re up against an enormous army, at least be cautious.”
Krugor was about to start a discussion with the bored soldiers when they finally reached the ballroom. He recognized the door and informed the Officer. For a minute nobody dared to breathe. This was it, the showdown could begin.
“Alright men, listen up” Officer Sidrall Warzephyr began “This is the moment of truth. Use everything you learned and don’t hesitate to kill the bastards. Good luck!”
Professionally they formed a triangle, with the highest in rank, Sidrall, in front. Archers stood all the way in the back and in the middle were several soldiers carrying spears and the sword-wielding lesser officers. Krugor just hopped about behind them, not knowing were he could stand without disrupting the formation.
The doors opened and the group charged into the room, catching the waiting skeletons by surprise. They were so surprised that the Elves even managed to take a few down. Before they were completely surrounded by the hundreds of skeletons.
“Damn, that’s a lot bastards.” Sidrall softly whispered.
“Is this the right time to say I told you so?”
“Ahaha! If that isn’t mister Sidrall Warzephyr. It’s been quite a while, officer.”
Warren appeared on a balcony overlooking the ballroom and viewed the scene below with much enjoyment. He could already picture the blood flowing on the black marble floor, the limbs smacking into the obsidian walls. He just really hoped that they would leave his chandelier intact, for that thing was his pride and joy.
“You!” Sidrall screamed when he noticed the sculptor looking down on him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You know him?” Krugor asked surprised.
“You bet I do! I arrested him and some of his buddies from the Xem’zûnd Warlock Foundation a couple of years ago. They were having some sort of demonstration against the discrimination of skeletons, or something. I threw their asses in jail!”
“It pleases me greatly to have you in my home, officer. I will enjoy watching you die on my floor!”
“You bastard!” Sidrall screamed, losing his temper. Krugor was the probably the only in the room how it felt when Warzephyr screamed at you like that. It wasn’t a comfortable experience.
“Sticks and stones, officer, sticks and stones. Now, I will descend from this balcony and join my minions in their assignment to slay you all in a second. Skeletons! Kill them!”
The living corpses cackled and carefully grabbed their weapons. Swords, spears, daggers, throwing knives, whips and axes. Almost anything was represented in the room. Warren probably took great pleasure from arming his minions to the teeth. It seemed he thought about everything.
“Wait!” Krugor screamed when the skeletons charged forward, ready to take down the minority of Elves. “You wouldn’t kill a brother now, would you?” he asked. His hopes to confuse the army were in vain and they continued to charge. The cackling became louder and louder.
“Hold the line!” Sidrall cried out “These stinking piles of bones will not defeat us! The Bladesinger’s Guild will never flee!”
Good thing I’m not a Bladesinger!
The first row of skeletons reached the group in full run but were skilfully handled by the young soldiers. Even if they were outnumbered they wouldn’t back down. Their intensive training would be enough to take down at least half of the room before they would be totally defeated.
“Watch the flank!”
“Nafrill, watch your back!”
“Take down that spear wielder, now!”
The commanders and Sidrall were shouting and ordering the entire group of recruits while still doing battle themselves. It would be a hard battle but they wouldn’t back down. Even when the first casualty on their side came they didn’t let morality drop. A young soldier by the name of Nafrill had been pierced through the heart by a spear wielding skeleton. His screams of agony caused blood to boil and angered the Elves. This was getting personal now.
It was a real battleground in the ballroom. Krugor wondered if the architects ever thought that their magnificent creation would one day be used for a bloodshed. Even outside the Obsidian Spire one could hear the screams of hope, pain and encouragement. From both armies. It was utter and complete chaos inside.
“Damn!”
The sharp sword cut deep into Sidrall’s arm before the Elf managed to break the skeleton’s skull with the hilt of his blade. And he didn’t have the time to care of his wound after that, for the another skeleton quickly replaced the other’s place. This was a pointless battle, he knew, but there was no other way than to fight till death.
“Officer! We’ve lost at least half of our men!” a commander called out, stating the obvious. Bodies were piling up, both from the summoned skeletons as from the Bladesinger’s. The only thing that kept them going was the realisation that the number of skeletons bodies were at least two times bigger than those of their own brethren.
“We need to flee!” Krugor cried out, as he had done for the last couple of minutes. Too much irritation of the Elves who preferred to battle without a whining undead.
“Yes, I realise that! But unless you know of a way to do that, shut up! This isn’t helping!”
The plynt staff soared gracefully through the air before it smacked another couple of clay figures to the ground. Krugor was wielding one of the tallest weapons available and had no problem taking down his brothers two at a time. But it still looked hopeless. Fatigue kicked in and the skeletons were still pushing on. From every side of the triangle formation skeletons stood in line to take a shot at the Elven intruders. They were surrounded and the door was at least 8 feet away, with tons of skeletons in between.
Wait! That’s it!
The cook was suddenly overwhelmed with an intense feeling of hope. It wasn’t common for the man but he had just thought of something great. He had an idea. He knew of a way to get all of the Bladesinger’s out of the room, before they would be slaughtered completely.
“Sir, sir!”
“Goddamn, skeleton. Shut up!”
“Well, if you keep talking to me like that I won’t tell you my plan to get out of here!”
Officer Sidrall turned around and faced Krugor with a look that almost caused the skeleton to feel guilty for saying that. He didn’t even know if his plan would succeed but still the officer looked at him a face that practically begged Krugor to talk. Sidrall ordered a lesser commander to take over his place in the front and made his way towards the undead cook.
“Alright, you have my attention.” He said, while helping Krugor take down some attackers.
Whispering softly the cook revealed his plans, the officer’s eyes twinkling brighter and brighter with every word.
“That’s perfect! Get to work right away!”
“Yes, sir!” Krugor said and whirled around his staff. He took a few steps back, getting in the middle of the soldiers. He couldn’t be interrupted while he was executing his plan or everything would go wrong.
“Here we go, people!’ he shouted as the decoration mushroom on the top of his staff fell to the ground, bouncing a bit before it lay completely still.
It didn’t take more than two seconds for the mushroom grew to full size, at least seven feet tall, bigger than the horses they came here on. Krugor chuckled as he saw the surprised face of both the Elves and the skeletons. There times when he grateful that he had met Talidus, and this was one of those moments.
“Noooo! Take them down now!” Warren suddenly cried out as he came running into the room through the main entrance.
The Master Chef knew that Warren was the only in the room who knew what the giant mushroom meant. Having watched the Cell the sculptor realised what the thing could do. And it was for the first time since they’d met that Krugor saw a hint of desperation on the man’s face.
“Oh my god, this is unbelievable!” Sidrall said while shaking his head. A part of him had thought that Krugor was sweetening his story up a bit when he told him of his spell, but this even surpassed his wildest dreams. Never in his life had he seen such a big mushroom.
“Alright people, get on quickly!” Krugor said when he realised that the skeletons were regaining their focus and charged again. There were only 5 Bladesinger’s remaining, including High Elven officer Sidrall, but it was still a bit tough to get them all on the mushroom. Not only were they being attacked while doing so, the mushroom also kept bouncing a bit. It wanted to go, to charge into some unknowing clay man. That was the spell’s original intent, but Krugor had attempted to use it for something completely different.
The Elves that had managed to climb on top of the 7 feet high mushroom quickly readied their bows and cleared a path around the thing, giving the other some more room to get on. Sidrall and Krugor were the only ones left standing after a while;
“Sidrall! Get on now!”
‘No way! I’m the highest in rank here, I need to go last. This was your plan, you go first!”
“Damn you, stubborn Elf!”
The Elf was now fighting with both his sword and a small dagger, taking on three skeletons at once at a certain point. It wasn’t an easy task, for he was getting extremely tired and couldn’t quite see straight anymore. Several wounds and cuts were showing all across his face and arms, and his valuable cloak had been torn in half. The man didn’t knew what happened when he suddenly felt a hand grabbing him by the collar.
“Now you know how that feels!” Krugor said jokingly before he pulled the Elven officer onto the mushroom. Without hesitation it shot into gear and smacked into the thick layer of skeletons in front of it.
“This sucks…”
Warren couldn’t say anything other than that when he felt the rubbery mushroom charging over him. The big fungus, ridden by a team of Elves and an undead made it’s way through all the skeletons, over Warren the Warlock and through the vacant hallways, moving at the speed of an arrow.
The fungus was already starting to shrink to it’s original size when the group saw the light of the open main entrance appearing in front of them. Sliding across the marble floor they cheered the mushroom on, hoping it would reach the door quickly.
And it did, for it flew a small feet through the air when it passed through the doorway. Five bruised and broken Elves were thrown in the dirt and the mushroom returned to it’s regular place on top of Krugor’s staff. They didn’t have the time to rest though, not yet. Warren had gathered his remaining forces and when chasing them. It was necessary for the apprentice warlock to kill the intruders right now, or they would alert the Raiaerans. And then everything would be lost for him.
That was just the plan that Sidrall had in mind. He commanded his soldiers to climb upon their horses as he pulled Krugor on his own. There were 6 horses without someone mounting them as the skeletal cook sat on the same horse as the officer. The Bladesinger’s ordered their horses and made their way straight towards the Red Forest.
==//==
“Hmpf. Are you sure about that, officer Warzephyr?”
“With all due respect, sir. Do you think I would be standing here, with an uncountable number of wounds, risking my entire reputation and rank if this would be a lie?”
Sidrall Warzephyr had returned to Eluriand safely, together with his excellent group of soldiers. They were given a heroes welcome as the people of Eluriand had already thought of them death before they even left the city. However, every single one of them had been summoned by High Bard Calorfindil Tinil-Galas to give a report of the events and an explanation for the fact that they had returned with the captured skeleton in their arms. He wasn’t happy with that. Never in the history of Eluriand had a skeleton been given the same respect as a soldier of the Bladesinger’s.
“Very well. You may handle the case of the skeleton how you see fit. Now get out of here!”
The High Bard was a bit disappointed by the turn of events. The people seemed to like the skeleton as Sidrall had given a short summary of the battle to the citizens. His judgement was meaningless now, he couldn’t imprison him anymore without angering the entire city.
“Krugor Vrath-darr. Would you please get up here?”
For a third time Krugor entered the room containing the throne of the High Elven Officer. He walked up the steps and kneeled in front of Sidrall. This time was different, he knew that for sure. Now he was being treated like one of their own, instead of some filthy low-life. Sidrall rose from his seat and spoke to the crowd in the room;
“People of Eluriand! We have scolded, mistreated and accused this skeleton in the past! Those accusations were wrong, however! I, Sidrall Warzephyr, have fought side to side with this man and I personally guarantee his innocence! Anyone questioning my decision may take their complaints to Minas Teradryn and see for yourself!”
The officer opened a small chest carried by a young Bladesinger and revealed its contents to the public. He held up a pair of dark red, leather bracers with the Bladesinger’s Guild logo embroidered into it. They were handcrafted just for Krugor, as a way of thanking him for the deeds done to the city. Proudly the skeleton accepted the bracers, followed by a cheering crowd.
“There’s one more thing!” Sidrall said, silencing the crowd. “I hereby allow Krugor Vrath-darr free entrance to the entire city! May no one bother him on his journeys here or face my wrath!”
This news came a bit unexpected to the crowd and their responses clearly stated that. People whispered and pointed, unknowing of how to react to this statement. Rewarding a skeleton for a heroic act was one thing, accepting him as a fellow citizen was something completely different.
“Now, let us start the festivities!’
And with that the crowd continued their cheering, eager to start the party. They would deal with the skeleton later.
((Requested spoils: The dark red, leather bracers with the Bladesinger's logo. They have been specially made for Krugor and fit him perfectly. He now also has unlimited acces to Eluriand (not the rest of Raiaera) and can pass through it unharmed.))
AsukaStrikes
09-15-06, 10:45 AM
Judgement!
I counted this thread and Dying was the Easy Part (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=2439) as a single quest thread.
Introduction - 7/10
It's good and I can understand for the most part what was going on. There was just enough of some back story for me to understand his desperation for a bed, though I must admit had I not read a past thread of yours I would not have known that much about the necromancer and his ostrich obsession. Still, having your thread start out with a mad chase down the streets of Eluriand kept me interested. And that's a good thing.
Setting - 7/10
Seeing that the story eventually shifted through the entire city of Eluriand, plus the Obsidian Spire, that's a lot of ground covered in a single solo of this length. You took a lot of effort to incorporate your surrounding into your posts - from the dark Raiaeran night, the dungeon and the interior of the Obsidian Spire. There was particularly a lot of description about the Spire, even though there wasn't a lot of interaction with it as much. It’s kinda awkward to just go up and “touch” something, but there could be more interaction with your surrounding like. The scratchy dust from when you were being dragged behind the cart. The scent of mildew, moss and fungus in the dungeon. The chilly, empty halls of The Obsidian Spire. Those are a few things you could play around with more, but I think you’ll get the hang of it eventually.
Writing Style: - 6/10
Your writing style was very easy to follow, give or take a few grammar errors I found along the way. The pace flowed pretty well from one event to another, sometimes a bit too fast to effectively leave the reader with a good impression.
Also, at some points you repeated some words that could be left out while still retaining clarity. One I found was “Sighs of relief and sighs of despair met each other…” You could say “Sighs of relief and despair met each other…” and still mean the same thing.
I also noticed you switched back and forth between “Xem’zund” and “Xem’rund” in your posts. They might just be typos, but it is these typos that can really trip the reading pace. Take your time reading over the posts and, highly recommended, write it out on a word processor. MS Word has the tendency to jump at almost every foreign word not in the English Dictionary so you can spot these irregularities easier than just on the Quick Reply box.
Character - 6/10
Krugor appeared to me as if going on a rollercoaster of emotions from time to time – not the kind of thing expected from someone usually optimistic about life. It is understandable, though, that having gone through those horrible treatments would make Krugor more volatile than he would normally be.
Also, Krugor appeared to be well off considering he’s been kept inside a dungeon with little to no light at all. An everyday human would have already been thrown into dementia by the time the two weeks were up.
Asides from that, good work.
Dialogue - 7/10
The dialogue is one of your strong points here in this quest. Each words spoken, including those from the Elven NPCs were quite well thought out and matched their attitude. You portrayed the Raiaeran arrogance well with most of the NPCs introduced, especially during the first half of your quest before being dragged off to the Obsidian Spire.
Your dialogues were playful, witty and original. That I like. Sidrall Warzephyr’s last speech, however, seemed a bit off coming from a war veteran with underlying fear for the undead. The overall quality, however, dwarfed that little bump in the road.
Strategy - 5/10
Straight forward and to the point. There wasn’t a lot of strategy to read about, but nonetheless it suited well with the hasty retreat planned by Krugor. The elves appeared a bit too lax when it came to charging the former stronghold of Xem’zund, so that was a bit of a disappointment. Bringing in new recruits to the steps of a necromancer’s fortress was a bad move, especially after losing a scout party just a little while before.
Rising Action - 6/10
I can sense the tension rising slowly when Krugor was first cut off from the elves at the tower entrance. Still, I think you could do a bit more to add to the suspense. The rising action once the fight began wasn’t all that impressive, either, but nonetheless caught my attention.
Something that works well, especially in an isolation scenario, is to build up the character’s internal emotional turmoil. I understand that this might not work for certain types of character (such as the big bad Rambo-kind of person) though Krugor could look the part of having this emotional confusion.
Climax - 6/10
Charging away from the clay skeletons on a giant mushroom qualifies as a climax point for me. It came quick – a bit too quickly, perhaps – and ended quickly as well. Pretty well-played for a last-ditch attempt to get to safety, I would say.
Plus, mowing down that Warren fellow with the giant mushroom was a riot.
Conclusion - 6/10
Even though it was not exactly an ending to the story, you did a good job at wrapping up that episode. I somehow wonder that some day Warren might actually follow up on his plans to overrun Eluriand with his clay skeletons or otherwise the Bladesinger Guild will sack the Obsidian Spire to end the threat. Either way, this event warrants a follow-up story in the future.
Wild Card - 7/10
Considering that this is my first judged thread, I may have been a bit more critical than other judges. I like your witty thoughts and actions, plus quite a bit of comic relief from Warren. Great job and keep up the good work.
Special Regional Rubric Section: Regional Integration – 2/5
You did well in portraying the Bladesinger Guild and the High Bard Council, though I feel that at times it was not yet what it seemed to be. Great job, nonetheless.
Final Score: 68
Krugor receives 1089 EXP and 225 GP!
Spoil granted – Krugor gets his custom-made wrist band with the insignia of the Bladesinger Guild as well as unlimited access to Eluriand. Some Raiaerans still feel a bit unnerved around him, but he should feel safe to know no one will try to club him in a dark alley.
Cyrus the virus
09-15-06, 04:19 PM
Krugor levels up! Grats skelly.
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