ftp.ee.pdx.edu/2014.02.ftp.ee.pdx.edu.tar/ftp.ee.pdx.edu/pub/frp/stories/qelrik/70.old

Internet Message Format | 1995-04-18 | 7KB

Path: usenet.ee.pdx.edu!cs.uoregon.edu!reuter.cse.ogi.edu!uwm.edu!cs.utexas.edu!swrinde!pipex!uunet!not-for-mail
From: [e-mail] (Guido Roessling)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp.archives
Subject: STORY:  Qelrik  part 70
Followup-To: rec.games.frp.misc
Date: 17 Apr 1995 10:04:34 -0400
Organization: UUNET Technologies Inc, Falls Church VA USA
Lines: 112
Sender: [e-mail]
Approved: [e-mail]
Message-ID: <3mtshi$[e-mail]>
NNTP-Posting-Host: rodan.uu.net



                         ==============
                           The Shaman
                         ==============

     Tsog paced his office, heavy leather boots clumping against
the rock floor as he walked.  The orcish shaman had a dilemma and,
as usual, sitting still and thinking didn't help.  He briefly
considered bashing something, but shrugged of the urge.

     When the prisoners had arrived, he was one of the first ones
to find out that one of them was a mage.  Being the most powerful
priest in the complex certainly had it's advantages in that
aspects.  Whenever something magical came up, he was the first one
called... and also the first one to claim any magical treasure that
went with it.  When he arrived at the cell, he was moderately
surprise to find the mage was not clad in the typical robes that
human wizards seemed to prefer.  Tsog admitted that his first
thought was that the patrol members had been mistaken, however, a
brief search had revealed the extraordinary metal arm.  It
obviously had some sort of magical enchantment.  Then, he
discovered the amulet around the mage's neck.  He cast a quick
enchantment that allowed him to see magical auras, and was
delighted to find several powerful auras on various items in the
mage's possession.  Immediately, Tsog removed them, claiming to all
orcs present that the items were magical, and likely dangerous.  He
soothed the orcs' fears by volunteering to keep the items in his
chambers where nobody but him would suffer any ill effects from
them.

     After removing the mage's weapons, he returned to his chambers
with his prizes clutched in his hands.  Yrgoth would likely
complain, but it would take little more than the offer of the
mage's enchanted dagger to pay off the commander.  Like most orcs,
Yrgoth was naturally suspicious of anything magical that wasn't a
weapon or armour, and would gladly allow Tsog to keep everything
else.  Besides, though Yrgoth was the official commander of the
lair, there was no doubt in anyone's mind who was in charge.  Not
only was Tsog the most intelligent of all the orcs, he was also
powerful in shaman magic, and strong enough to beat most orcs in
combat.  He was, in his own mind, the perfect example of the ideal
orc.

     His self flattery did not keep his attention for long though,
as the importance of his current dilemma weighed down on him once
again.  Amongst the mage's belongings were some powerful magical
items.  The arm was left with the mage due to the difficulty of
removing it without killing the mage.  First, Tsog would let him
regain consciousness in order to torture him for information
regarding the amulet and the arm.  Besides, from what Tsog knew of
magic, he was fairly sure the arm was of little use to someone
possessing two arms already.  Then there was the amulet.  The magic
aura on it was a strong as anything he had ever seen.  Tsog was
sure it possessed great power, and he was determined to claim that
power for his own.  Lastly was the pouch the mage carried at his
side.  Judging by the magic in it, Tsog was sure it was enchanted
to hold far more than it appeared, but Tsog was certainly not going
to be the one to open it.  Mages were tricky and suspicious, and
Tsog admitted that even he himself fell into that category.  There
was no doubt that this pouch would have magical wards on it as
well, wards that could possibly kill him if he opened it.  But, he
also was not going to let some expendable guard open it either, in
case there was treasure in it that the guard could see.  There was
no choice but for Tsog to try and neutralize whatever trap the
pouch contained.

     Resigned to his decision, Tsog began a ritual prayer,
beseeching the orcish gods for the magic to neutralize the trap.
He was not disappointed, as the proper incantation appeared in his
mind.  He carefully placed the pouch in the middle of the wooden
slab he claimed for a desk, and in a deep voice, he intoned the
prayer.  As he finished, he sent a burst of negating magic toward
the pouch, which caused the pouch immediately to flare with
crackling energy fighting the prayer.  As the energy died down,
Tsog once again called upon his powers to view the magical energy
of the pouch.  There was no change.  Tsog cursed, as only the
orcish language would allow one to curse.  In a rage, he swiped a
massive arm across a nearby shelf, causing expensive glass flasks
to shatter against the floor, spilling strange liquids onto the
rock.  Then he spied his flail, sitting in the corner of the room.
The enormous weapon sported almost two feet of wooden handle, over
three feet of chain, and a massive ten pound spiked ball on the
end.  With a roar he grabbed the weapon, swung it around his head,
and smashed it into the wall.  The flail bit deep into the stone
wall, leaving a head-sized indent next to several other similar
marks from previous rages.  His rage temporarily sated, he dropped
the weapon into the corner and walked back to his desk.  There, he
stared in astonishment as the amulet, sitting next to the pouch,
slowly vanished.  He stared at the empty spot on the desk for a
moment, then tentatively groped where the amulet used to be.
Nothing.  He apprehensively looked at the pouch, half expecting it
to disappear as well, but it remained as solid as ever.

     "Damn him!!", he growled in orcish, "The mage has escaped!".

     With quick strides, he crossed the room to grab his flail.  On
the way, he grabbed a jet-black dagger with wicked-looking serrated
edges suitable for rending flesh into nasty wounds.  After grabbing
his flail, he flung the oak door open leading from his lair.
Outside, two guards cringed as the shaman emerged.  They had
obviously heard his rage earlier, and they both eyed the flail
nervously.  He opened his mouth to bark orders at the guards when
suddenly a thought hit him.  If the mage was loose, and he couldn't
claim the pouch by magic, that would mean the mage would come here
to get it.  Tsog smiled wickedly, causing the guards even more
alarm.  He quickly turned and re-entered his lair, slamming the
door shut behind him.  He made sure the door was unlocked, and
positioned himself in the shadows behind the door, prepared to lock
the mage in the room when he entered...