Posted on 04/13/2002 1:25:25 AM PDT by acnielsen guy
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'If you wish to remain alive, you will do exactly as I say.' Arselen wished he wouldn't do that to her. Her head pounded enough already. Rollo had his hand around her throat, and Rathe was down for the moment. He was shaking his head and blinking. Rollo had tossed some dust like powder into his eyes, and judging from Rathe's reaction, it was pretty bad stuff. The corners of the room started to recede into black when she decided to try what Karsh had 'told' her. She looked at Rollo's face and concentrated. The wall next to his head burst into flames. Ooops, close enough...
Rathe was rasping in his breath and looking for something to splash onto his face to wash that vile powder out. He grappled his hand around on top of a dresser and found two objects that were promising. He hoped he wasn't going to splash the aged, expensive burgerack into his eyes. That would be a crime, and painful too. He made his choice, blindly grabbed and flushed his eyes out. It was the most refreshing, intoxicating mistake his eys would ever make. He hit the floor wishing that he could've downed that drink instead. At least he could see now. He stood up in time to watch the wall burst into flames.
Rollo looked over at the wall with a strange look on his face. What manner of trickery was this? He never got an answer, a chair smashed across his back as a half blind and brewery smelling Rathe was back for round two. He turned around in time to see a well heeled boot smashed into his face, forcing him out the door.His slash was fouled by the fact that the Queen's bustier was armored. The steel and tivak creation stopped his blade short without damage to itself. The steel bore scratches and dents.. the tivak plates had no marks on it. The covering fabric flapped down in tattered rents. Once again, Rollo's mind reeled. Just in time for the Queen to drag a spiky plant across his face. Today wasn't his day. He hoped that he wouldn't find out the Arselen was an expert sowrdswoman....
Downstairs, the fight between Karsh and the Archon was getting downright evil. They both knew that they were an even match, and that the only way one could win over the other... would be measured by the amount of mistakes the other made. Karsh was making whirling sword attacks, which the Archon defended against with his serrated rapier. It was an intricate ballet of instant death that made the eyes swim to watch. They'd already made several gaping rents in each other. Karsh's left hand was, for now, a permanent fist. The back of his arm open to the breeze. He was already dead anyway, so with no heartbeat to pump blood and no need to breathe, he was in no real danger. He wasn't going to bleed to death. Still, he didn't want to become a trophy of the necromancer's 'art'. He heard two swords ringing off of one sword upstairs. So she had done as he had suggested. And she'd actually heard him. He hoped she wouldn't come into the lower halls. That would ruin his plans in more than one way.
The banquet hall seemed to get darker. Maybe a mist had come in from outside. Or maybe the lights had guttered. Whatever the cause, it was soon going to be pitch black if no-one did anything about it. The two combatants fought in a blackness that could be felt like water. The Archon chnated something and made a lightly glowing fog behind himself. Karsh knew better than to touch it. He'd seen what it could do, back when he'd fought the Necromancer before. He'd lost several men that way. They'd shriveled in their skins, and yet remained alive. Karsh was still safely enshrouded in his self enveloped veil of darkness. He took the time to place three carefully chosen slashes. The Archon was ready for it, so he couldn't do mortal damage. But he could do enough to slow the old nemesis down. The sound of other combat came closer.
'Please do not come into the banquet hall. Please, Arselen.' Too late, her presence was felt already, and Karsh's sword started to illumine it's bearer. First, the pommel stone began to glimmer. It's inner fires kindled. Then a strangely dark light slammed into the whole of the room. Karsh was revealed completely. The Archon grinned his ghoul smile and made a quick thrust. Karsh was making a quick attack of his own, he ducked the movement of his enemy and made a deep cut to his opponents' abdomen. They both made conact at the same time. The Archon's blade made contact with Karsh's leg, it's poisoned blade stopping when it met bone. He then twisted it and broke the blade off. He then grunted as his own body was violated with steel. Arselen made her way into the room in reverse as Rathe followed Rollo from the other side.
"Rollo! We are done here." The Archon's voice was gargled in pain. Karsh hoped it was bad. Rollo made a strange hand motion and muttered something. There was a flash and a smell of something foul. They were gone. They'd made it back to the roof where their flying beast was. It was over, for now.
If you want fishing info and other Baja stuff...
...Westy..
Good people, it's that time again....
The lights are out, the candle lit...
Salute as you go by it....
The perfect whatever should be around somewhere....
I'm gone, see you all Mañana, with luck...
....Westy. ...
Is this anyone you know?....lol....
....Westy....
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Sunday April 21st 2002 St. Anselm |
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Granny's Chimney Korner  |
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