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The Tale of the Merchant Prince
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Falotar



Joined: 22 Jan 2001
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Location: Yaro'on the Fair

 PostPosted: Thu Sep 04, 2003 8:20 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

It was dawn in Falconheim. Xan leaned on the casement of the window of his room in the southeastern tower, staring bemused at the sunrise. He only partially appreciated its splendour, however. His mind was on the disappearance of the Peasant.
No ordinary monster attack. Trolls, Goblins, or Minotaurs would have stayed to loot the town, the same for the remnants of the Serpent Legions. Dragons would have torched the settlement. Undead he and Shoti would have found some sign of in their expeditions through the valley. What could be responsible for the disappearance? The answer eluded him.

Sometime later Prince Grimfalcon rose from his bed. He strolled out into his study, then outside into the courtyard. His chambers were built into the north wall of the Palace - they were only temporary, of course, until he could afford a proper keep.
Breakfast was being served in the courtyard. Peasants, Guards, and various other henchmen strolled about, picking up their food from the open firepits. Grimfalcon snorted to himself, and went over to the table which had been erected for him, his friends and his guests. Shoti and Xan were already there, as well as that Dwarf and a Ranger whom the Prince did not recognize. The Healer was not present; doubtless she had chosen to break her fast in the privacy of her own quarters.
"Your Highness!" Xan hailed him. "I bid you a fair morning."
"The same to you, Limelleq'. And to you, Firearrow." The Prince took his seat at the centre of the table, between his two companions. Shoti nodded to him.
"Good morning, my lord."
Keifew accepted a platter of bread and eggs from a servant, and poured himself a goblet of pale wine from the pitcher on the table. He glanced at the Ranger.
"Who is this?" he asked.
"My name is Taron Farsight," replied the Ranger. He fidgeted; obviously he was unused to dining with royalty.
"So, how do you like my settlement?" asked the Prince.
"It is . . . all right," replied Taron noncommitally.
"I trust you will stay? You will have noticed the Rangers' Guild being constructed."
"Maybe," he replied. "But I am fond of wandering."
"Well, that is what we need. Limelleq' and Firearrow cannot explore this valley by themselves!"
"My lord," said Xan, "might I speak?" Grimfalcon frowned at his mercenary friend. His voice had an unwonted somberness.
"What is it?"
"It is about the Rangers' Guild. I checked on the progress of its construction tonight, and one of the two Peasants was missing."
"Missing? What do you mean, 'missing?' Is he dead?"
"I mean missing, sire. He is not to be found in Falconheim, dead or alive."
"Kidnapped?" asked Keifew in disbelief. "Who would kidnap a Peasant?"
"I should like to know too," said Xan. "My lord, I bring this up ecause the idea intrigues me. Who indeed would kidnap a Peasant? there are more valuable things to be had here. Allow me to investigate."
"I shall go too," said Shoti.
Xan shook his head. "No, Lady Shoti. I would prefer to go alone. Besides, you will soon have duties of your own."
"Limelleq' is right," said the Prince. "I cannot have you both gone, and the Rangers' Guild will be completed today, one Peasant more or less will not change that. So, Firearrow, you cannot be spared."
"Very well," she said. She finished her meal quietly, and rose to check on Siyoam. Xan also got up, and went to prepare for his self-appointed task. The other heroes continued eating, but Keifew ignored them as well as the taste of the food he put in his mouth. He was planning his city, and nothing could distract him from that.

"Delivery, one Peasant," said a harsh voice outside the door to Henraaph's laboratory. The Elf got up, his eyes flashing from within the shadow of his hood. He opened the door. There stood the Rogue he had hired to acquire a test subject.
"Thank you, Manyvaults," he said, taking the unconscious body of the Peasant into his own arms. He gestured with his head. "come inside, and I will give you the rest of your payment."
Inside there was nothing beyond a table and a shelf, which was only halfway filled with books and potions. Henraaph dragged the Peasant over to the table and stretched him out on it.
The Rogue cleared his throat. "My payment?"
"Ah yes." The Wizard turned. Raising his hand to point at the Rogue, he said softly "Cadas in somnum." The Rogue fel to the floor, snoring.
Henraaph smiled humorlessly. Reward, indeed! The fool would receive more than he looked for, or wanted.
 
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Raistlin, Archmagus



Joined: 08 Jul 2001
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Location: Krynn, Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas

 PostPosted: Tue Sep 09, 2003 6:00 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

Shoti padded silently through the halls of Prince Keifew's palace, watching the floor. A missing peasant - that was strange. She would have liked to go with Xan, but - well, the Prince was right. She would have her duties, recruiting rangers for her guild; it seemed a more difficult job than she had first thought. She had one ranger already - but she wasn't relying on him too heavily, unsure if he'd stay or not. In any case, she could check on the Healer.
Coming to the door she had had seeked out, Shoti stopped and knocked. Her ears picked up some shifting within the room, and soon the door opened, revealing Siyoam's slim figure. She looked out at the world through dark blue eyes, topped by light brown eyebrows. It was the only thing to reveal her hair color, as it had been shaved off when she became an advocate.
"Shoti," she said, a smile touching her lips. "I trust your night went well? What brings you here?"
The ranger nodded, smiling in return. "It went quite well, thank you, and hope yours was just as good. I came to see if you needed anything, actually. Do you have all you require?"
Siyoam nodded. "Indeed, I do, good Ranger. I'm quite grateful to you and your prince."
Shoti nodded. "Good, good. I have other duties to attend to, but please, don't hesitate to ask if you want for anything." When Siyoam had agreed, Shoti went on her way, intending to watch as the last of the Ranger's Guild was finished.
The Healer stayed within her room, kneeling at her prei-deu. There she continued where she had left off in her prayers to the Great Mother, adding Falconheim in them.

In that wpdded area that housed the abdondoned castle, a knock sounded at Mothflower's laboratory door. Talilah waited outside it, the hand that had made the noise settling back at her side. Brown hair cascaded around her like a rain fall; completed by the bright, lightning white streaks that flashed through her hair. Her clothes were form fitting; bright yellow and light gray twisted themselves around her, a lovely adition to her. She was like a perfect outfit; her eyes were bright gold, and matched, to perfection, her hair and clothes. "Master Henraaph?" She asked. Her face had smoothed its annoyed creases away, and she waited for the elf to open the door.

[ 09. September 2003, 08:49 PM: Message edited by: Raistlin, Archmagus ]
 
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Falotar



Joined: 22 Jan 2001
Posts: 2579
Location: Yaro'on the Fair

 PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 12:16 am    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

Henraaph straightened, his face turning in irritation towards the door. He had been tying the Rogue down alongside the Peasant. Now he wondered what he lieutenant wanted.
"Yes, Talilah, come in," he called. His voice was hoarse - an effect of the burns. He did not bother to hide his irritation at the interruption either.
The Sorceress came in. He watched enviously as she strode into the room. Her she, a human, had more grace and beauty than he could ever have. Why she had joined him, the Wizard neither knew nor truly cared. He assumed she was after power, and saw him as a means to achieve it. No matter; he was after revenge, he meant to use her to achieve that. If she could use that to further whatever ambition she held, then so be it.
"What is it you want, Talilah?" he asked. "You may have noticed that I am busy at present, so be quick."

[ 10. September 2003, 11:07 AM: Message edited by: Falotar ]
 
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Raistlin, Archmagus



Joined: 08 Jul 2001
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Location: Krynn, Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas

 PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 1:33 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

The woman's eyes strayed towards the two bodies, and she lifted an eyebrow. "I see, sir. I wondered," she walked forward, her slik clothes making soft swishing sounds as she moved. "If I could provide any help, Master Mothflower." She schooled her features before sttling her eyes on the elf, and his mishapen face. When she'd first seen him, she'd been disgusted; Talilah had grown up around beauty. Henraaph's face had terrified her, at first. It had been a long time before she'd been able to teach herself to look at him without showing her digust.
She started forward again, moving to stand close to the elf, overlooking the peasant and Rogue. She would have said she'd come to inquire about his health; but that question she had stopped asking when Henraaph began finding it tedious - which, it seemed he had from the start. Instead, she asked a different question, fingers tracing a small patten of lightening and thunder clouds on the sleeve of her outfit. "What do you plan to do with them?" She be his lieutenant, but he did not tell her all his plans.

[ 10. September 2003, 02:34 PM: Message edited by: Raistlin, Archmagus ]
 
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Falotar



Joined: 22 Jan 2001
Posts: 2579
Location: Yaro'on the Fair

 PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 2:30 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

"Do you really wish to know?" he asked, his lips twitching. She shrugged, then nodded. "Very well then.
"You knew from the first of my plan to get revenge: revenge on the nobles of Ardania, for letting the Minataurs raze my home; revenge on Agrela and her followers for cursing me to live like this; and revenge on the Wizards for trying to deny me that same revenge, and attempting to halt my pursuit of magic - the only joy I have left. What you may not have known was the method I chose." He drew a scroll from his sleeve which he tossed to Talilah. It was written in an arcane script, and signed by Pyrog the Shadowed.
Henraaph watched her reaction to the vile enchantment described on the scroll with bitter satisfaction. "Yes. Teratogeny. If you have guessed before, now you know. I have suffered agony - pain the like of which you can have no comprehension. I have been scarred for life - and for eternity. It is only fitting that, in attaining my revenge, that I make others suffer as I have done.
"That starts today, now, in this laboratory. I have long studied animals, manipulating their bodily components and rearranging the integral information the gods implanted in them to determine their form. But I have never attained what I truly want - a thinking, feeling person. Animals and monsters cannot share their agony with the rest of the world, nor can they communiate their horror. But a man - ah! And so I have these two now, and more I will have in the future."
He turned to the cabinet. He took down a vial and a long, hollow tubule with a sharp, narrow needle-like projection on the end. He uncorked the vial and thrust the needle in. The tubule, made of clear glass, filled with reddish-tinted liquid. He restoppered the vial and replaced it. He turned to face Talilah, who was watching in fascination.
"As you know, this castle was inhabited by Vargs before we came here and claimed it as our own. Now, all Vargs are infected by a certain virus, which causes creatures to mutate and assume both lupine and human characteristics - in short, lycanthropy. But most Vargs have a natural inhibitor which grants them immunity to this same virus. That is why Varg bites do not generally infect people with lycanthropy; because the inhibitors are passed along with the virus, and both soon pass out of the victim's system. However, in a few Vargs the inhibitor is defective, causing them to transmit the disease - in a very few, the defect is compounded to the extent that they show signs of it themselves. People bitten by such Vargs become infected by an activated virus, which quickly alters their foundational bodliy structures so they take on lupine characteristics - transforming the person into a werewolf.
"So. I have drawn the blood of several of the Vargs who were unfortunate enough to be caught by myself. I have been working to isolate the virus from the inhibitors, and have at last succeeded. What this needle contains is a culture of the virus. All that must be done now is ascertain that I have the virus, pure and virulent. One experiment must be performed. Observe."
He walked over to the Peasant. The man moaned as Henraaph raised his arm. Selecting a location, he rolled back the loose jerkin sleeve and plunged the needle into his muscle. The man jerked, and moaned louder, but did not awaken. Henraaph watched the liquid drain into the man's arm. When the needle was empty, he withdrew it, tearing off a piece of the man's own clothing to staunch the blood.
"Now we wait until tonight," he said, withdrawing to study his handiwork.
"Why tonight?" whispered Talilah. She was trembling slightly, wondering how anyone could be so cold-blooded.
"Because some humans have a sort of immunity to lycanthropy, too, though not as strong as a Varg's. Moonlight breaks down these inhibitors. Thus the connection between the full moon and werewolves. For most people, though, the inhibitors are not very strong, and a half-moon such as we have will be enough to destroy whatever immunity they have and completely activate the virus." He smiled mirthlessly. "And people actually worship Lunord!
 
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Raistlin, Archmagus



Joined: 08 Jul 2001
Posts: 1805
Location: Krynn, Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas

 PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 5:04 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

And to think, she had once thought herself willing to go to whatever means to achieve power. But lycanthropy? Teratogeny? That was a magic she had never delved into. Unwillingly, she felt her gaze drawn towards the peasant, and her stomach turned. She felt as if she was going to be ill.
"Gods," she murmered, looking away. She fized her eyes out the window, not wanting to see the elf's disfigured face. He was vengeful; and he would continue to see vengeance until he'd succeeded, or died. Though Talilah wasn't even sure if that would stop him.
"My lord," she started, carefully forming her face into a mask. She looked at the elf again, feelings hidden from her face. "I have not studied teratogeny; nor lycanthropy to an extent. I excel at weather work - but if there is anything I can do to help, Master Henraaph, please tell me." It was good that she'd asked. She understood teratogeny, but she did not know enough about it. Finding that he was willing to use it would be good to know for future plans; for her betrayl.
But that was a long way off, still. She was not yet strong enough; she'd learn from the elf until she had the power she sought. And if that meant teratogeny, so be it.

Shoti stood near the Rangers guild, watching as it was finished off. Her arms were crossed, a satisfied look on her face. Once the remaining peasant left for her home, she would examine every inch of her guild; and, hopefully, Xan would return with some clue as to where the peasant's husband had gotten to.
 
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DragonWizard012



Joined: 23 Feb 2002
Posts: 424
Location: The Dragon's Castle of Rivendell

 PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 6:45 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

Taron sat by a tree, watching the consturction.
"Its very well done, isn't it?"
Taron jumped. He didn't realize some one was with him. He turned around and saw a the female ranger from breakfast.
"Good day, m'lady."
"Good day, to you too," she said, sitting down beside him. "Amazing how wild this Rangers' Guild looks."
"I may stay after all. This place is the most intuned with nature I have seen. Have you heard anything about the missing peasent yet?"
"Nothing yet. Hopefully Xan will be back soon."

[ 10. September 2003, 07:51 PM: Message edited by: DragonWizard012 ]
 
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Raistlin, Archmagus



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Location: Krynn, Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas

 PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 7:28 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

Shoti stood near the ranger, silently pleased that he would stay. Her first guild member! Watching as the peasant walked away, tools in hand, the Ranger smiled. "Care to come look at it with me?" She turned to Taron, nodding towards the newly finished guild. She started walking forward, hearing the other Ranger follow. "I do hope Xan will return soon," she sai, conversationally. Her heart went out to the poor woman; her husband was missing, and still she had continued to work. It reminded Shoti all too vividly of her own husband; before he'd been taken from her. She closed her eyes momentarily, her face a mask of pain and sadness.
 
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Falotar



Joined: 22 Jan 2001
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Location: Yaro'on the Fair

 PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 9:06 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

Henraaph studied Talilah with his single eye.
"Yes," he said, "I believe there is something you can do. Not in the laboratory; neither of us will benefit by that. But, I will require a clear sky over this area. I need the Moon, at least until I discover how to integrate the virus myself. Also, if you can manage it, I would appreciate having the new village covered by clouds. Being perpetually overcast will break their spirits, rendering them more easy to manipulate."
 
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Falotar



Joined: 22 Jan 2001
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Location: Yaro'on the Fair

 PostPosted: Thu Sep 11, 2003 12:19 am    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

Xan had not had much luck. He had started going over the Rangers' Guild, searching for some sign of the Peasant or his kidnapper. There was nothing. The kidnapper might have gone anywhere, for there was nothing to indicate his direction - he might even have gone through the village, though that seemed unlikely.
At least the lack of information pointed to one thing: the kidnapper knew what he was doing. Xan needed to think, and he knew where he could do it undisturbed. He headed downstream, about a mile away from Falconheim. Looking south towards the pass cut by the stream, he sighed and sat down.
"Skill," he mused to himself. He spoke aloud, for he loved to hear the play of sound his voice created. "A creature with the skill to take someone and leave no clue. But what about motive? What creature would kidnap a Peasant? Only a person would, and the skill points to an Elf or Rogue. But what would they want with a Peasant? Somebody could have hired one to kidnap a Peasant. Yes, that would fit the pattern. There are monsters that torture people for pleasure. Rogues have the skill to procure them and the greed to ignore their victim's fate. Not a beautiful scenario, but I fear it is the correct one. Still." He shook his head. "Where should I look? Where would such a fiend lair in this area? We have found no trace of such a monster. But then, we have not explored everywhere. I wonder." He stood, and gazed off to the northwest. "Neither Shoti nor I have explored there, for the forest is too dark. We agreed that it would be best to wait until Grimfalcon recruited more heroes. It is the perfect place for my hypothetical fiend to hide." He continued to gaze northwest. Again, he shook his head. "Still, it is only logic. Grimfalcon will want proof before he sends an expedition there. I shall have to see." He mused a minute longer. "It will likely be dangerous. Should I return, ask Shoti to accompany me? No. She is busy, and surely I can handle whatever minor guardians the fiend has in place. After all, I am going there to infiltrate, not fight."
So saying, he set off.
 
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Raistlin, Archmagus



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Location: Krynn, Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas

 PostPosted: Thu Sep 11, 2003 4:10 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

Taliliah nodded towards the wizard, and bowed. With a last glance at the poeasant and rouge, the sorceress strode toward the window, yellow and gray silk billowing out around her. A wind grew around her, pulling at her hair until she looked as if she were gracefully walking through the eye of a storm. The excess wind whipped through the room, flapping at Henraaph and the unconcious men's clothes. Opening the window, Talilah pul;led herself onto the pane, and stepped out onto empty air.
Wind caught her, swirling beneath her, blowing clothes and hair every which way. And still, she looked composed. She lifted her left hand slightly, and the gust grew, taking her up higher.
Standing on empty hair was as comfortable as standing on ground for Talilah. In fact, she found the air more comfortable. When it didn't sap her energy.
Looking up, she lifted her hands towards the heavens. It wasn't particularly cloudy this day, but she could sense them moving in. Looking at the sunlight through her spread fingers, Talilah spread her arms slowly apart. The clouds obeyed immediately, spreading with her hands, and leaving the sky over the castle. Twisting her fingers in an intricate pattern, she pulled her arms down in a quick jerk. The clouds disapeared from the sky as far as she could see. The woman closed her eyes momentarily, visualizing the castle. Lifting herself up a bit higher, she could actually see the settlement. Smiling wickedly, she lifted her right arm, palm up. Carefully, slowly, she arched it forward, as if she were tossing something. Clouds appeared above the kingdom, small and white, fluffy at first. They grew quickly though, darkening until the entire city was covered in storm clouds. Satisfied, she let her arm drop, the wind bringing her down slowly. She stoped at the roof of the castle, stepping onto the hard stone and laying down, closing her eyes. Clouds were not too hard to manipulate - but making them disapear and reform was harder. Breathing deeply, Talilah stood, and stepped off the castle to have the wind bring her down slowly to the window she had left through. She looked tired, and not hlaf so pretty as she had. "It is down, Master Henraaph," she told the elf.
 
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Falotar



Joined: 22 Jan 2001
Posts: 2579
Location: Yaro'on the Fair

 PostPosted: Mon Sep 15, 2003 11:56 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

"Very good." Henraaph nodded, though whether to himself or to Talilah could be questioned. "You may go." She nodded and left. The Wizard turned to the shelf and took down another vial. He held it up, frowning at it. Then he took down the lycanthropy serum, and held them side by side.
"I wonder," he said quietly. "I wonder."

The Moon was once more riding in the sky. Xan strolled along, seemingly at ease but aware of every blade of grass beneath his felt boots.
Soon he came to the forest's outlying trees. Above the sky sparkled with a hundred thousand stars, but back towards the southeast the sky looked stormy.
"Foul weather for the Prince," he said to himself. "It seems very singular - but hark! I hear wolves' voices!" He listened to the shuddering howl of a Varg. He had heard it not a few times before, and was familiar with its pitch and meaning - whether it was a hunting howl, or a call to gather, or just a cry of triumph over a settlement torn to pieces. But this was different. This cry was filled with anger and outrage.
"Interesting," he said softly. The howl was answered, a cry filled with sorrow and pain. Yet another howl, scornful and hateful. Then a howl so heart-rending that Xan shivered. "Vargs may be intelligent and malevolent," he said looking about and shivering, "but never have I heard one howl with a voice so human!"
He drew his swords. He turned slowly around, for although the Vargs did not sound as if they were hunting, still those howls had sent ice coursing through his blood. something more sinister than even the twisted cousins of the wolves was about, and he knew it.
Something rustled to his left. He turned, rocking back on his heels as he waited for it. He strained his ears to hear the sounds of paws behind him, for Vargs are cunning monsters and might very well try a double attack, with the noises before him masking stealthier movements behind him. But all he heard were branches crackling in the shadows before him, and - or did his ears deceive him? - whimpering. He caught a flash of grey highlighted by a shaft of moonlight that slipped through the trees, and he shifted into a fighting pose.
The creature burst from the bushes. Xan had just time enough to see the flashing teeth and warped, clawed hands before the monster hit him and they both tumbled to the ground.
A werewolf, he though. No wonder the Vargs were upset.
No more time for other thoughts, save the reflexes of battle. Xan twisted and rolled, trying to shake the monster off him. The werewolf scrabbled with its claws - the long, sharp claws on its hands that would never be worn down by trodding the soil as a full-blooded wolf or Varg's would be. The claws tore through his silken tunic, ripping open the flesh along his chest and stomach. Xan rolled and thrust with one of his swords; the werewolf snarled in pain and jerked off him. He rose, and watched with narrowed eyes as the creature fell back, clutching at a bleeding shoulder. It shook its head and howled once more.
In that instant, with the monster's neck exposed as it tilted its muzzle back for the terribly mournful sound, Xan leapt forward. His swords slashed, and the werewolf's head fell from its shoulders to the ground.
Even as it did so, it began shifting back to its original shape. The virus that forced the transformation disintegrated with the host's death, releasing the enchantment that bound the victim.
This one was a human, as were most. Xan at first did not recognize the face, for it lay sideways and in shadow. But, when he held it up and in the moonlight, the pain-ridden visage of Ferdor Byborough. Xan stared at it a long while, his face twisted in disgust.
"How . . . ugly," he said at length. He put the head down, aligning it with the neck so that the body still appeared intact. "What spirit could be so deformed that it would inflict this vile curse? This was not caused by the Vargs themselves, for by their voices they were as revlted as I by this atrocity. Moreover, Vargs do not kidnap people." He scowled down at the pathetic form of the Peasant, torn rags of his clothing still clinging to his corpse, now human in death.
Xan shook his head. "Well. As the man died by hand, so shall he be buried. At least I can send him to Krypta knowing his body is laid to rest beautifully."
He performed his task in silent sorrow. No tear fell from his eyes, although they were unnaturally bright. Then, the job done, he turned back towards Falconheim to report his findings and his deductions to the Prince.

Henraaph leaned back in his chair, his finger tracing the scar on his face. He had been tracing the aura of his experiment to see whether it was successful - it was not, after all, safe to be in the Peasant's immediate vicinity if the moonlight did activate the virus. When he detected the shift in the Peasant's energy which indicated the transformation, he was going to cancel the scrying spell, when he suddenly found another aura.
It was most peculiar. It was a strong and singularly unique signature. Strength of will was indicated, as well as grace and skill in the body. Both sympathy and intelligence were there, but they were disconnected, divorced to the farthest ends of the man's mind.
Henraaph had followed the owner of the aura with interest, even conjuring up a visual image of him. He watched as the he fought with the transformed Peasant, and watched his reaction when he discovered who it was he had slain.
"No emotion, other than disust at the ruining of the Peasant's body," mused Henraaph. "No pity, no compassion. Most interesting. And a most perfect specimen for my final experiment, when I am ready to conduct it. But first . . . " Henraaph laid his left hand lightly on a covered bowl which sat on a small table next to his scrying chair. He was careful not to put any weight on on it, for he did not want any of the liquid within to escape or fall onto his skin. His right hand continued to trace the scar, its motion slightly altered as Henraaph's smile drew the scar into a different shape.
 
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Falotar



Joined: 22 Jan 2001
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Location: Yaro'on the Fair

 PostPosted: Wed Sep 17, 2003 11:45 pm    Post subject: The Tale of the Merchant Prince Reply with quote Back to top

Grimfalcon scowled at the sky.
"These clouds came out of nowhere," he muttered. "Why? How? It doesn't seem right! If I but had a Wizards' Guild or a Sorceror to advise me." He shook his fist at the overcast sky, and went back into his rooms, where he began drafting a letter to King Jorias of Mayhew concerning the opening of a trade route between the two realms - Mayhew coin for the lumber that could be harvested from the lush forests in this valley.

Xan walked onward. He was beginning to feel weary - even his well-conditioned body could not go on for a day and a night without rest. It was early morning, though he could not see the Sun for the clouds that rose in the eastern sky.
He paused on the western bank of the stream. He was somewhat south of the town, since it was necessary to go across the stream there until a bridge could be built closer tp Falconheim. He looked north. The village looked grey and drear under the pall of the clouds.
"Werewolves and clouds," he said to himself. "Perhaps this valley is not so fair as I had thought."
He strode swiftly north, ignoring his tired limbs' protests. He saw that he had to reach his Prince quickly, before something worse occured.
 
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