Sneaky excerpt from the first draft of TTATE #5... Enjoy! - Aranok yawned. “It’s been half an hour. What on earth can they find to talk about?” “They’re women, Kondiel, they don’t need an excuse to talk; in fact most of the time I suspect they talk about men.” Joran sipped from the tankard Icoblu had brought him. “Are you sure that’s safe?” Kraaz glared at the tray of food and drink the two gremlins had put on a small table in front of them. “I added a potion to the pitcher, it neutralises any poison or sleeping potion they might have slipped into it.” The mage smiled as the Orc grabbed the pitcher and poured himself a drink. Aranok ignored it. “There’s something wrong here, I can feel it. Like a storm.” “Relax, nothing’s wrong. Our disguises are perfect, the dwarf in the lift won’t remember us and there’s no one on this floor except us, one dark mistress and two gremlins.” Joran stretched. “I might even have a nap.” He closed his eyes. The Direwolves had laid their heads down and even Kraaz had settled back into his chair. Aranok sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “I really don’t like this.” A faint scratchy, clattery sound made him look up. “what was that?” “Probably just the gremlins. Calm down.” Joran said without opening his eyes. The noise came again, louder. “It’s coming from behind the double doors.” Aranok stood up, one hand on his sword hilt. “I’m going to check on Kalt… Kalliddaelia.” Joran opened his eyes and looked up as the warrior stood up. “I think you’re being paranoid.” Sunrise lifted his head. “I smell death. Cold death.” Moonrise stood and padded across to Aranok as he strode toward the double doors behind the desk. “I smell it too.” A scarlet mist rose from the tiles around them. Aranok cursed in elvish and drew his sword. “We are discovered!” Joran looked at the floor. “A Bloodmist makes you think we are being attacked? It could have been triggered by your heavy footed advance over the tiles.” Kraaz used his staff to pull himself out of his chair. “We must retrieve the Lady and leave.” Joran stood, sliding his hands along the crimson length of his own staff. “You may be right.” He started toward the door through which the women had disappeared, scooping up Aranoks helm and throwing it to him in one smooth movement. Aranok put it on, dropping the visor with a clang. The scratchy clattering noise doubled and the doors behind the desk burst open, a squad of skeletons bearing red crystals in their chests whooping and hollering as they charged through. The Direwolves growled and would have charged at the creatures had Aranok not stopped them as Kraaz moved forward, fury painting his face. “What is the meaning of this?” he bellowed at the creatures. They stopped and milled around a little, seeming confused. A growl from the other side of the room straightened them and made Kraaz whirl round. “You there! Why are we being menaced in this fashion?” The scarlet mist parted to reveal a large dragonisk, his blue scales shining in the lamplight and a large red crystal pulsing in his chest. “You are to be detained by order of my Lady Lych.” It growled. “That’s Ser Driack.” Aranok gasped, his sword point dropping slightly in shock. “I killed him in the Alethdin dungeon just after Loriel was taken from us.” The dragonisk’s tail swept over the tiles, the mist surging in waves over it. “I cannot die. The Lady Lych accepted me as her commander and until she says otherwise, I am hers to command.” The creature moved forward and Aranok realised he was backed up by other creatures: a troll carrying a stone hammer, a poison demon rattling maces from his horns and several vampires, all with red crystals in their chest’s. Kraaz fell back to where Joran stood. “I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding, there’s no need for violence.” “And with one sentence you condemn yourself, Urakh.” The voice that slipped out through the lift doors raised goosebumps on the back of Joran’s neck.
Posted on: Sun, 06 Oct 2013 08:55:12 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015