.Did he get to screw one of the elf chicks ? Me wanna know
A Piece at a Time (Fantasy, D&D based)
Moderator: LadyTevar
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Imperial Overlord
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 11978
- Joined: 2004-08-19 04:30am
- Location: The Tower at Charm
-
Imperial Overlord
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 11978
- Joined: 2004-08-19 04:30am
- Location: The Tower at Charm
Grandfather Troll walked through the lightless depths of Kaaz-Netrul. A thousand dwarves had worked the stone with tools and spells for ten years making the dungeons and laboratories that Malgon had required. The eldest of the Troll Gods descended the long winding stairs to the great doors of rune inscribed steel. Two constructs of iron forged to resemble axe wielding troll warriors guarded the door. They let him pass.
Inside there was light and activity. A walkway lead across a floor set with eight massive pits. In each one creatures were slit open and pinned on slabs with hooks and chains or were floating in vats of green liquid. Silvery runes marks walls and esoteric devices of glass, iron, and mercury channelled and projected magical forces at different subjects.
Malgon rose from one of the pits, suspended by sorcery. "Grandfather."
"What have you accomplished?"
"Many useless, squirming piles of flesh," the Troll King responded. "I need more stock."
"Nothing?"
"I have idiots and mutants in vast numbers. I do not have a quick breeding soldier. Perhaps humans would make better source material. They're stupid and breed quickly already."
"There are almost none of the magic dead savages this close to the Wyld lands and the elves pay attention to them."
"We can go farther afield."
"Too much chance of being seen. In the Wyld Lands even the vision of gods is obscured."
"So we are stuck with them."
"For the moment. You are learning, yes?"
"Yes Grandfather."
"Good. Then your experiments should bear more fruit."
"If they don't?"
"A changestorm reshapes reality with out the direction of a concious mind. It can do what we want. Therefore it lies within our abilities. If you wish to report you inadequecies to the others go right ahead."
"As you say," said Malgon stiffly. Grandfather Troll did not reply. He had handed this task to Malgon because he was the one most likely to succeed at it. If Malgon was encountering difficulties then measures would have to be taken to strengthen their position.
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The spell of apportation projected Varanthus across space from the hidden vally of the grey elves to the capital of the High Kingdom. The drow magician appeared next to a fountain carved with the images of elven maidens standing on the backs of dragons. Slender towers and broad domes of gleaming white stone and decorated with gold leaf stood next to ancient groves of trees. Before him stood the Shining Towers, a ring of eight slender spires larger on the inside that the outside, reaching up into the sky. Magic had altered the stone, increasing its strength an allowing the towers to be built to such a great height. The Eastern sky was mix of pink and orange light with the coming dawn.
A drow boy in dark clothing was cleaning the flag stones around the pool with a rag and a bucket of water. His moth was gaping open. "Hello," said Varanthus.
"Hello. Maitre."
"No need for that. I am Varanthus."
The boy averted his gaze. "As you say." Varanthus scowled for a moment and then smoothed his features. He didn't like this at all.
"This is the Shining Towers?"
"Yes maitre."
"Thank you," said the young sorcerer. He walked towards the base of the tower at the end of the road. The doorway was engraved with golden griffins and sons. The double doors themselves were ten feet tall and made of polished oak. There was no knocker.
The doors opened as he approached. A lean and tall elf, brown of hair and skin, awaited inside. He wore a green tunic and brown breeches. A wood elf. "You are Varanthus?" he asked.
"Yes, that's right."
"Then I have the honour of being your guide maitre. I am Lelewan Venisar."
"Thank you Lelewan. How did you get this job?"
"Night time duties get assigned to those who are not of the high blood lines."
"I see," said Varanthus. Lelewan lead him inside. Magical illumination made the tower unpleasantly bright. Four corridors extended away from the entry hall.
Lelewan walked down one. "I am to be your guide for as long as you need it," said the wood elf. There was a doorway of golden light set into the wall. Lelewan walked through it. Varanthus followed.
There were in another hallway, a T junction. Unsurprisingly, there was a doorway of golden light behind them. Lelewan lead off to the left and then up a flight of stairs. "This is Shyanne Tower," Lelewan continued. "Only the most junior instructors have rooms here. You'll also be managing a student dormatory."
"Scut work."
"Yes."
"You're remarkably forthcoming."
"High elven arrogance has the virtue of being honest," said Lelewan.
"Exactly where does a drow trained by the Eldest rate?"
"Hard to place. As a drow you're at the bottom of the social standings, but all respect the Eldest's knowledge and power. So your the lowest kind of plebe, but one with useful talents. Honestly, I think a lot of them are having trouble figuring out how to rank you."
"And you?"
"Me? I'm a talented apprentice from an important family. A family from a client people of barbarians, but still important."
"Ahh."
Lelewan stopped climbing the stairs and went down another corridor. "You've got the room at the end. The dozen odd hellions here are your direct charge, although they'll probably pawn off more jobs on you. That's what drow are good for," he said with a smile.
"I've noticed."
Lelewan pointed at a room on the right, one of the two closest to Varanthus's room. "That's my room. If I can be of assistance, let me know."
'Thank you mighty prince."
"You are welcomed, honoured maitre."
The door to his room opened at Varanthus's touch. An oak desk and chair and an empty bookshelf took up the lion's share of the room. Off to the side was a modest bedroom and bathroom. Varanthus crossed the room to close the shutter's on the window. He had no desire for light to flood the room when the sun rose. He took off his staff and leaned it against the wall. His swords he placed on the desk and his pack on the carpet. "Now what?" he wondered.
Inside there was light and activity. A walkway lead across a floor set with eight massive pits. In each one creatures were slit open and pinned on slabs with hooks and chains or were floating in vats of green liquid. Silvery runes marks walls and esoteric devices of glass, iron, and mercury channelled and projected magical forces at different subjects.
Malgon rose from one of the pits, suspended by sorcery. "Grandfather."
"What have you accomplished?"
"Many useless, squirming piles of flesh," the Troll King responded. "I need more stock."
"Nothing?"
"I have idiots and mutants in vast numbers. I do not have a quick breeding soldier. Perhaps humans would make better source material. They're stupid and breed quickly already."
"There are almost none of the magic dead savages this close to the Wyld lands and the elves pay attention to them."
"We can go farther afield."
"Too much chance of being seen. In the Wyld Lands even the vision of gods is obscured."
"So we are stuck with them."
"For the moment. You are learning, yes?"
"Yes Grandfather."
"Good. Then your experiments should bear more fruit."
"If they don't?"
"A changestorm reshapes reality with out the direction of a concious mind. It can do what we want. Therefore it lies within our abilities. If you wish to report you inadequecies to the others go right ahead."
"As you say," said Malgon stiffly. Grandfather Troll did not reply. He had handed this task to Malgon because he was the one most likely to succeed at it. If Malgon was encountering difficulties then measures would have to be taken to strengthen their position.
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The spell of apportation projected Varanthus across space from the hidden vally of the grey elves to the capital of the High Kingdom. The drow magician appeared next to a fountain carved with the images of elven maidens standing on the backs of dragons. Slender towers and broad domes of gleaming white stone and decorated with gold leaf stood next to ancient groves of trees. Before him stood the Shining Towers, a ring of eight slender spires larger on the inside that the outside, reaching up into the sky. Magic had altered the stone, increasing its strength an allowing the towers to be built to such a great height. The Eastern sky was mix of pink and orange light with the coming dawn.
A drow boy in dark clothing was cleaning the flag stones around the pool with a rag and a bucket of water. His moth was gaping open. "Hello," said Varanthus.
"Hello. Maitre."
"No need for that. I am Varanthus."
The boy averted his gaze. "As you say." Varanthus scowled for a moment and then smoothed his features. He didn't like this at all.
"This is the Shining Towers?"
"Yes maitre."
"Thank you," said the young sorcerer. He walked towards the base of the tower at the end of the road. The doorway was engraved with golden griffins and sons. The double doors themselves were ten feet tall and made of polished oak. There was no knocker.
The doors opened as he approached. A lean and tall elf, brown of hair and skin, awaited inside. He wore a green tunic and brown breeches. A wood elf. "You are Varanthus?" he asked.
"Yes, that's right."
"Then I have the honour of being your guide maitre. I am Lelewan Venisar."
"Thank you Lelewan. How did you get this job?"
"Night time duties get assigned to those who are not of the high blood lines."
"I see," said Varanthus. Lelewan lead him inside. Magical illumination made the tower unpleasantly bright. Four corridors extended away from the entry hall.
Lelewan walked down one. "I am to be your guide for as long as you need it," said the wood elf. There was a doorway of golden light set into the wall. Lelewan walked through it. Varanthus followed.
There were in another hallway, a T junction. Unsurprisingly, there was a doorway of golden light behind them. Lelewan lead off to the left and then up a flight of stairs. "This is Shyanne Tower," Lelewan continued. "Only the most junior instructors have rooms here. You'll also be managing a student dormatory."
"Scut work."
"Yes."
"You're remarkably forthcoming."
"High elven arrogance has the virtue of being honest," said Lelewan.
"Exactly where does a drow trained by the Eldest rate?"
"Hard to place. As a drow you're at the bottom of the social standings, but all respect the Eldest's knowledge and power. So your the lowest kind of plebe, but one with useful talents. Honestly, I think a lot of them are having trouble figuring out how to rank you."
"And you?"
"Me? I'm a talented apprentice from an important family. A family from a client people of barbarians, but still important."
"Ahh."
Lelewan stopped climbing the stairs and went down another corridor. "You've got the room at the end. The dozen odd hellions here are your direct charge, although they'll probably pawn off more jobs on you. That's what drow are good for," he said with a smile.
"I've noticed."
Lelewan pointed at a room on the right, one of the two closest to Varanthus's room. "That's my room. If I can be of assistance, let me know."
'Thank you mighty prince."
"You are welcomed, honoured maitre."
The door to his room opened at Varanthus's touch. An oak desk and chair and an empty bookshelf took up the lion's share of the room. Off to the side was a modest bedroom and bathroom. Varanthus crossed the room to close the shutter's on the window. He had no desire for light to flood the room when the sun rose. He took off his staff and leaned it against the wall. His swords he placed on the desk and his pack on the carpet. "Now what?" he wondered.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
-
Imperial Overlord
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 11978
- Joined: 2004-08-19 04:30am
- Location: The Tower at Charm
-
Imperial Overlord
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 11978
- Joined: 2004-08-19 04:30am
- Location: The Tower at Charm
Varanthus walked into the classroom, a halo of shadow around his head. The wall of floor to ceiling windows filled the room with harsh and unforgiving sunlight. A dozen young high elves with golden skin, light coloured eyes, and dark hair sat in chairs waiting for Varanthus to arrive. They wore either light coloured linens and silks or dark colours with bright and bold designs embroidered upon them. Three were laughing in a corner. Eyes turned towards Varanthus as he entered the room.
The drow still carried his blade staff. He wore a plain tunic of midnight blue without fancy flourishes or embroidery over breeches of the same colour. He uttered a spell and a clap of thunder rang out. Conversation died away and all eyes turned to him. "Greetings," he said. "My name, on the off chance you do not already know who I am, is Varanthus."
"You are here because you are sufficiently priviliged and talented to get the best education the Shining Towers has to offer. I am here because I am very good and the job of teaching less advanced students is not coveted by those higher up the status ladder.
"I will be your primary instructor, although you will have see several others on a regular basis. Should you desire someone who is not darkborn then your families will have to exert more pressure or you can be a problem. If you choose the latter course, you might not like the results." He smiled. "Elethen Sha Felalethan, you're reputation and that of your family preceeds you."
The dark clad high elf smiled and gave a mocking salute. His two cronies grinned. Varanthus continued. "A noble line of heroes stretching back before the High Kingdom. Of course, that's old history. Your families more recent activities as magnates and power brokers is far more relevant. You may be assured that you will continue to enjoy the privileges that your family allows you." Elethen nodded in acknowledgement.
Varanthus continued speaking, laying out a program of evaluation and instruction in the fundementals of sorcery, with emphasis on practical use rather than theoretical principles. At the end of his lecture his students trailed out of the classroom. All but one. She waited until the others left. "I can't believe you said that."
Varanthus looked over at her. She wore sky a sky blue tunic over white pants. Her long dark hair was caught up in a braid. She was an inch taller than him. "Tehala Sha Nelavaina. You are bold. Its as almost as if you had sufficient status that you can challenge your instructor without fear of consequences."
Her eyes narrowed. "You practically cleaned his boots with his tongue."
"Indeed. How long will it be until the news of my boot licking reaches the Pinnacle?"
"Not long."
He nodded. "For now the Shining Towers still has more power and influence than the Felalethan family. They will lose prestige if the quality of their education is diminished. It is one thing to give tutors to the students of prominent families, but it is another to let them graduate with unearned awards."
"They'll transfer him to another class is what you're saying."
"Yes," said Varanthus. "Someone who he can't intimidate. Someone senior who will hate the job."
"Why couldn't you just-"
"I don't live in your world," he replied. "I don't have an exalted lineage or a family that can bend the rules for me. Those of you with power are used to getting your way, used to your very name changing the circumstances around you. Mine doesn't. Getting caught between the Shining Towers' reputation and Felalethan entitlement isn't healthy for me. The Towers can send me back to the minds as indentured labourer. I'm sure I don't have to tell you where Felalethan's financial intrests lie. He can make it very difficult for me and mine."
"So you maneuvered him out of the way," she said. "Clever enough I suppose. Why are you telling me this?"
"It doesn't matter if you know now," he said. "It's too late to stop. I do have a little protection from the Pinnacle. And Elethan Sha Felalethan is not the only one in my class whose name and history preceeds him."
"Are you saying you trust me to keep a secret?"
"Your family name opens doors, but that isn't all that it does. Perhaps you should set about learning what else it triggers in the minds of those that hear it. It might prove useful to you."
"You like being cryptic."
"It's a pleasure an instructor can rarely indulge," he replied. "And this exercise will, I think, be quite useful to you."
"Alright," she said and then turned and left. Varanthus followed her out. He had two projects to work on for members of the Pinnacle and each of them involved enormous amounts of work. It still beat the mines.
The drow still carried his blade staff. He wore a plain tunic of midnight blue without fancy flourishes or embroidery over breeches of the same colour. He uttered a spell and a clap of thunder rang out. Conversation died away and all eyes turned to him. "Greetings," he said. "My name, on the off chance you do not already know who I am, is Varanthus."
"You are here because you are sufficiently priviliged and talented to get the best education the Shining Towers has to offer. I am here because I am very good and the job of teaching less advanced students is not coveted by those higher up the status ladder.
"I will be your primary instructor, although you will have see several others on a regular basis. Should you desire someone who is not darkborn then your families will have to exert more pressure or you can be a problem. If you choose the latter course, you might not like the results." He smiled. "Elethen Sha Felalethan, you're reputation and that of your family preceeds you."
The dark clad high elf smiled and gave a mocking salute. His two cronies grinned. Varanthus continued. "A noble line of heroes stretching back before the High Kingdom. Of course, that's old history. Your families more recent activities as magnates and power brokers is far more relevant. You may be assured that you will continue to enjoy the privileges that your family allows you." Elethen nodded in acknowledgement.
Varanthus continued speaking, laying out a program of evaluation and instruction in the fundementals of sorcery, with emphasis on practical use rather than theoretical principles. At the end of his lecture his students trailed out of the classroom. All but one. She waited until the others left. "I can't believe you said that."
Varanthus looked over at her. She wore sky a sky blue tunic over white pants. Her long dark hair was caught up in a braid. She was an inch taller than him. "Tehala Sha Nelavaina. You are bold. Its as almost as if you had sufficient status that you can challenge your instructor without fear of consequences."
Her eyes narrowed. "You practically cleaned his boots with his tongue."
"Indeed. How long will it be until the news of my boot licking reaches the Pinnacle?"
"Not long."
He nodded. "For now the Shining Towers still has more power and influence than the Felalethan family. They will lose prestige if the quality of their education is diminished. It is one thing to give tutors to the students of prominent families, but it is another to let them graduate with unearned awards."
"They'll transfer him to another class is what you're saying."
"Yes," said Varanthus. "Someone who he can't intimidate. Someone senior who will hate the job."
"Why couldn't you just-"
"I don't live in your world," he replied. "I don't have an exalted lineage or a family that can bend the rules for me. Those of you with power are used to getting your way, used to your very name changing the circumstances around you. Mine doesn't. Getting caught between the Shining Towers' reputation and Felalethan entitlement isn't healthy for me. The Towers can send me back to the minds as indentured labourer. I'm sure I don't have to tell you where Felalethan's financial intrests lie. He can make it very difficult for me and mine."
"So you maneuvered him out of the way," she said. "Clever enough I suppose. Why are you telling me this?"
"It doesn't matter if you know now," he said. "It's too late to stop. I do have a little protection from the Pinnacle. And Elethan Sha Felalethan is not the only one in my class whose name and history preceeds him."
"Are you saying you trust me to keep a secret?"
"Your family name opens doors, but that isn't all that it does. Perhaps you should set about learning what else it triggers in the minds of those that hear it. It might prove useful to you."
"You like being cryptic."
"It's a pleasure an instructor can rarely indulge," he replied. "And this exercise will, I think, be quite useful to you."
"Alright," she said and then turned and left. Varanthus followed her out. He had two projects to work on for members of the Pinnacle and each of them involved enormous amounts of work. It still beat the mines.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.