# The Akeema Story Hour - Following the Adventure Path Series (Updated April the 11th)



## Daniel Knight (Jun 18, 2002)

*Forward*

The world is full of defining moments.  It is said, that one could simply be sitting watching a beautiful sunset when it occurs that elsewhere, that very same sun is the cause of heat exhaustion and the very soon death of some poor sod who’s lost his way in the desert.  Or that while the idea of shoving pinecones up ones bottom might be considered somewhat erotic in Al Kelyar, unless you have sufficient lubricant it can actually be quite a painful experience.  Or that love, the greatest joy known to sentient kind, is actually the cause of depression and suicide when there is a lack of it.  They are all things people would rather not think about.  Especially the pinecones.  But they are all things that occur.

Along the same lines, it can be said that in an infinite universe with an infinite amount of possibilities, not only will a room full of monkeys type out Hamlet but they’ll also put on a production to make Kenneth Branagh give up his silly obsession with Shakespeare and spend his new found time on something closer within his talents… such as black lit tapestry weaving.  This is all using logic.  Science is not only unable to dispute it, but seems to support it to some extent.  Somewhere, out there, there is an alternative you that’s living a perfect life with their perfect partner.  Not only do they have great sex each night, but they also _happily_ go shopping for shoes with one another.  With an infinite amount of possibilities, logic dictates that this is a truth.  Even if it is depressing knowing that this you is out there.

With these thoughts in the forefront of our minds, we can now accept that that following story is true.  The people, places, and events are all real and _have_ occurred in the not to distant past.  The strange thing about this set-up, is not that this true story contains magic, dragons, and the occasional pinecone, but that there are a group of people sitting around a table re-enacting the events they couldn’t possibly know has occurred.  These Players of the Game, are convinced that they have invented a bunch of misfit characters, who’s fate is dictated by the roll of a dice. Occasionally they’ll get a bit of corn dip on their character, and file them away at the end of the night ignoring them for another week.

Meanwhile, in this location where our story takes place, the bard Zyphnobod, is sitting on a hill looking up at the stars.  His companion, a half-orc warrior by the name of Grod, sits next to him decked to the hilt in arms and armour, trying to remove a stone from his boot.

“Do you know,” said Ziphnobod “That up there, there is probably a planet impossibly far away, where our life is re-enacted in the form of a game?”

Grod squinted up at the night sky with a critical eye.  “I’m not entirely sure I understand you there Ziph.  Are we talking a game of cards?”

“Maybe.  I’m not sure.”

“You are of course referring to the gods, yes?”

“No, no.” sighed the bard, “I was rather thinking of a world without magic, or people attacking each other all the time with swords, and where people dream of our lives to escape the boredom of their own.”

Grod examined the stone from his boot, rubbing it between his beefy thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. “You been at the spice again, haven’t you?”

And thus the conversation continued throughout the night, until of course Grod had the sense of mind to slap Ziphnobod over the back of the head with the palm of his hand.  The two later on went down into the village pub, and got drunk and had a bar fight - but that as it were, isn’t really important to the overall story arc of the Players of the Game sitting around their table, so won’t be continued here.  That’s not to say that Grod didn’t get kicked in the ribs, or Ziph didn’t have ale spilt down his tunic, it’s just that no one on this planet really gave it much thought.

So, without further a due, you are presented here with the life stories of some people from another planet.  It’s not a work of fiction (as science seems to dictate that fiction is an impossibility), but rather a coincidental re-enactment of actual events.  Some of the events have been created by some Players of the Game sitting around the table drinking far to much Red Bull and Coke, and some have been written by a bored cinema projectionist wishing that all he had to worry about were dragons, instead of bloody relationships, sour friendships, and the occasional suicidal tendency.


*To Be Continued...*


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## cthuluftaghn (Jun 19, 2002)

*Mind boggling....*

Your prologue is the kind of stuff we used to ponder while staying up all night during the summer months of my high school years... drinking imported beer, and trying to solve the questions of the universe.

I look forward to the future posts of someone with a mind nearly as twisted as my own.

By the way... what IS at the end of this infinite universe?  More infinity?  A brick wall?  An infinitely thick brick wall?  Ack.... migraine.


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## Daniel Knight (Jul 1, 2002)

*Re: Mind boggling....*



			
				cthuluftaghn said:
			
		

> *I look forward to the future posts of someone with a mind nearly as twisted as my own.
> *



I'm sure that was meant as a compliment!   Thanks. 


			
				cthuluftaghn said:
			
		

> *By the way... what IS at the end of this infinite universe?  More infinity?  A brick wall?  An infinitely thick brick wall?  Ack.... migraine. *



Ever see _Men In Black_?  I think they had it pretty spot on.


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## Daniel Knight (Jul 1, 2002)

*...Story Hour Continued*

*Prelude*

Sparks rose into the night air, wafting on the summer breeze.  King Liam I of Krailem dismounted his horse and moved forward, sweat beading on his brow.  Seven of his best knights followed suit, as he pushed past an onrush of screaming soldiers covered in flame.  He had no time for the wounded – the clerics would have to see to them.  His aching feet continued forward, crunching as he tried to keep balance on the smouldering remains of soldiers long since gone from the world of the living.  A roar echoed through the night sky as another dragon was destroyed.

“My Lord, please you must away!”  A young boy – barely a man – staggered up to the king.  His blue eyes squinted through ash caked around his eyes, burn marks running along his left cheek and down his neck.  His clothing hung on him, dirty, battered and burnt.  “There’s nothing left of the West Tower but rubble and fire.  The wizards could only hold against so much.”

Liam stopped trudging forward.  The heat was becoming unbearable now as his armour started to scold his flesh at the edges.  “How long ago?”

“What?”

“How long ago, boy?”

“Just moments.”

“And Heldun?”

The boy hesitated.  Heldun was the kings advisor and trusted friend.  There were nine other countries involved in the war, and Heldun was also the only arcanist under Krailem’s banner.  “He’s still in the remains of the tower my Lord.  He’s magiced up some sort of a see through wall around himself.  There’s also a sorceress from the desert lands and some elf, I think.”

The king squinted towards the flames in the distance.  “Why didn’t the Blue Banner troops make it there?”

The boy frowned and looked away.  “They did my Lord.”

“So where are they now?”

Another roar echoed through the night, bouncing off the nearby mountains.  “The dragon my Lord, it came in so quick!  I was with the Green Banners but there was nothing that could be done.”

Liam unscrewed the top of his water-skin and let the cool liquid slide down his raw throat.  The initial rush of fleeing soldiers had passed, leaving the group alone on the battlefield with the moans of the dieing at their feet.  One more rise, thought the king, and the tower would be visible.  “And my daughter who was leading them?”

The boy remained motionless and didn’t answer.
Liam stared off into the distance and nodded at the silence.  The wind changed direction and a blanket of heat wafted over them - the thick air filled his lungs and smothered his body sucking the energy from his muscles, and yet he felt icy cold fingers sliding their needle tips into his heart and stomach.  He closed his eyes and the world seemed to change.  The polluted air’s scent changed from blood and smoke to that of the salty sea, and the wind cooled and tumbled through his hair.  He looked down to his daughter sitting on the edge of the pier, all grown up with her feet playfully splashing in the water.  They were in the city of Melzibeth for diplomatic reasons.  She looked so much like her mother, he thought, so beautiful and so defiant against all the odds.  He liked to see her like this, when life’s hardest punishment was making her decide what sort of flower to put into her hair.  She’d chosen a tulip.  Things had been so different a week ago.  He felt dizzy.

“Did she lead the contingent well?”

“She did my Lord.”

King Liam turned around and looked at his knights with coal black eyes.  Battles continued to rage around them through the countryside.  His knight stood before him, battered and bloody, exhausted and coughing up smoke and blood.  A tear rolled down his cheek to his beard, cleaning a line in the soot.  He sniffed the air and looked back towards the boy.  “Now go and keep safe, you’ve done well for Krailem.  If you want to continue helping, please see to the wounded – more then enough blood has been spilt today.”

The boy watched as his king once again started moving forward, knights in tow.  “But my Lord, you’ll never live!  To face the dragon is to stare into the face of Death himself!”

The king continued forward, ripping the burning armour from his pain-wracked body.  “Good.”  Liam said simply clenching his jaw, “I’ve got a score to settle with him.” 


*To Be Continued...*


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 1, 2002)

It's good to read an effective dragon attack, and the danger that the soldiers are undoubtedly in seems very real - nice, descriptive writing. Keep it going...



> By the way... what IS at the end of this infinite universe? More infinity? A brick wall? An infinitely thick brick wall? Ack.... migraine.




And who built that brick wall? Where did they come from? Ack.... migraine.


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## cthuluftaghn (Jul 2, 2002)

This reads like a movie script from a good action/drama.  [Russel Crowe enters from stage left]


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## Krellic (Jul 2, 2002)

*Meanwhile on this side of the Multiverse...*

So far - great, you've got a cracking writing style that bodes well for the future.  I only hope your players are up to it!!!


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## cthuluftaghn (Jul 3, 2002)

*Re: Meanwhile on this side of the Multiverse...*



			
				Krellic said:
			
		

> *cracking writing style*




I thought only Wallace used the term "cracking"... or was it Grommit?  Which one's which?  We Americans ain't edumacated 'bout such thangs.


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## Daniel Knight (Jul 3, 2002)

cthuluftaghn said:
			
		

> *This reads like a movie script from a good action/drama.  [Russel Crowe enters from stage left] *



Hehehe… depressingly enough I could probably see Russ playing Liam.  He’s about the same age and frame.  As for it reading like a movie script, that’s probably true.  My strength is that I’m very visual and my weakness is I’m far too overdramatic.  Both of these things are fantastic for film or theatre (which is good, ‘cause that’s what I do), but I’m very interested to see if I can pull it off in story writing.


			
				Krellic said:
			
		

> * I only hope your players are up to it!!!
> *



Hehehe… I actually don’t have _any_ players yet.  I haven’t been able to organise a group since I moved states.  This so far, is just setting up what’s gone before.  I’m trying to build a solid background for the events that occurred involving Ashardalon, giving the beast a bit more weight then a couple of scared landmarks etc.

I’m glad people seem to be enjoying it.  Thank you for your kind remarks.


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## cthuluftaghn (Jul 3, 2002)

Your user ID still says Australia.  Where in the States?  There are lots of resources for finding players.  Glad to help out.

I play with a couple from Melbourne myself.... Florida!


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## Daniel Knight (Jul 4, 2002)

cthuluftaghn said:
			
		

> *Your user ID still says Australia.  Where in the States?  There are lots of resources for finding players.  Glad to help out.
> *




Australia is made up of states as well.  I moved from the city Perth in the state of Western Australia, to the city Melbourne in the state of Victoria.


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## cthuluftaghn (Jul 4, 2002)

*feels stupid*


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## Daniel Knight (Jul 8, 2002)

*...Story Hour Continued*

Thunder ripped through the broiling pitch sky as a young girl, no more then thirteen, watched the intense battle with sadness in her eyes.  The dragon had just destroyed what was left of the wizards and was now systematically destroying the remains and his men.  She stood barefoot atop a rocky hill and looked down onto the tower’s wreckage, her simple white robe and daisy studded blonde hair blowing in the gentle ash kissed wind.  She was certainly an odd fixture in the landscape as her metallic ice blue eyes shifted from the remains of the tower to the other fiery battles raging across the countryside.  The dragons could not be allowed to win this battle.  Too much destruction had all ready passed.

“It is time.” She said simply.  The handful of other robed individuals surrounding her looked to her, sorrow creasing deep lines on their wise and weathered faces.  From their simple garb to the herbs and pouches hanging from their belts, they stood toe to nose as druids from Tübel.

Thunder grumbled across the land as lightning stabbed jaggedly from cloud to cloud.  And demonic shadows were cast around the massive dragon in the centre of it all.

*  *  *  *  *

Gulthias looked up at the clouds to the west and snarled.  So the druids had arrived he thought to himself, and they had probably bought the girl with them.  The wizard moved towards the sergeant currently in charge of the battling dragons over Krailem Castle.

“Sergeant, I see that you have everything in order here.  I must see to our master.”

The sergeant nodded.  “Please let me know,” Gulthias continued, “If we manage to breach those walls.  Once they get across, I am sure it will not to hard to erect some ladders.”

The castle was situated in the middle of a large lake known as Loc Grai, which had been built with large stone bridges radiating inwards towards the various entrances.  The bridges had long since been demolished by the people of Krailem, and now the goblinoid armies were having to get to the walls by boat.  The inky black water reflected fires coating the arrows shooting down from the castle walls.  It was an impossibly hard task to breach the walls and many of the dragons had already died in the flights over, shot down with catapults and magic.

As if to illustrate this, a large green dragon roared in pain as a boulder flew into the beasts wing and snapped it in flight.  The creature quickly careened out of control and smashed into one of the walls sending the massive stones, dust, and more then a few defending soldiers into Loc Grai.

“Well done sergeant, it appears we don’t have to use the ladders after all.”  All ready the goblin boats were heading towards the breach.  “I will be with the master if you need me.”  Gulthias turned around and walked into the dark, and if the sergeant had of been watching, slowly faded out of sight.

The wizard reappeared again moments later.  He was at the West Tower now and the stench of burning flesh overwhelmed him.  In the centre of the massacre stood the clawed remains of the flaming tower.  Ashardalon stood in the middle coated in blood and roaring to the sky in challenge as lightning continued to split the sky.  The colossal dragon dominated the scene as he continued to thrash about, clawing and biting at the three remaining individuals.  Liam avoided another claw, only to have the giant tail thunder into his side sending him hurtling painfully into the destroyed masonry.  Fire licked the cracked stone walls from all sides, giving the battleground a more than hellish experience.

Rising his legendry sword Dragonhammer, the king once again charged.  A white glow trailed from the blade as it swung towards the beasts neck.  Time seemed to slow as Liam’s battle cry rang through night, tears flowing freely as his daughters empty carcass lay less then a few yards away, crushed under tons of rock.  The king twisted his wrist, holding the sword with both hands now as he put his entire weight behind the charge.  The dragon however, was quicker.

Gulthias smiled to himself as he casually walked into the ruins.  He watched as Ashardalon shook the king in his mouth like a rag doll, the accompanying little toy sword Dragonhammer now lost in the rubble of the dragon’s playpen.  Fractionally opening his mouth the dragon lowered his head to the height of the last two knights, holding the king speared on the bottom row of teeth through his chest, stomach, and legs.  Liam looked at his men with glazed eyes, blood pumping from a cut in his neck as he tried to raise his head to speak.  The man was still alive.  The two men in chorus raised their swords and charged in at the dragons face, hatred slashed across their faces and anger pumping through their veins.

And then the dragon breathed.


*To Be Continued...*


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 8, 2002)

> The dragon however, was quicker.




Music to my ears! 

Superb writing by the way, I got a great image of the girl standing on the rocks with ash raining down around her.


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## Krellic (Jul 9, 2002)

Love the build up I think the Ashardolon thread is one of the best bits in the Adventure Path series.

Still think your players are going to have their work cut out matching it!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 6, 2002)

I hereby Holy Smite this thread with my Flaming Dire Bump +1.

*This is one of the story hours that made me start writing up my own story hour! Your flair for description made me start writing again!*

And you honestly cannot trail off with "and then the dragon breathed". That simply is not fair.

Spider.


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## CoopersPale (Aug 7, 2002)

Yeah, I thought I'd chime in with some words of encouragement!

Post more!

You write really well - like reading a novel!
And we haven't met the PC's yet (or have we?).

Go the green and gold


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## Daniel Knight (Aug 10, 2002)

Whoa… thanks for the encouragement guys.  I had no idea people were _this_ into it.   I promise I’ll start regular updates again as soon as my turn passes in the ENWWC… I think it’s a couple of slots away.


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## Daniel Knight (Aug 16, 2002)

*...Story Hour Continued*

Flame engulfed the king and soldiers until nothing remained of either but a cloud of ash and memories.  As the flames died down Gulthias stepped before the dragon.  “Master, Krailem’s walls have fallen and the armies are now entering the city.”

Thunder gravely rolled above.

“Will there be gold?”  The cavernous voice of the dragon easily competed with the storm above.

“More then you can imagine, master.”

“And jewels?”

“Oh, yes.  The Krailem treasury has the third largest supply of jewels in the world.”

The dragon slowly and deliberately turned his massive head towards the human.  “Then why, wizard,” Ashardalon spat the word, “are we here?”

Gulthias looked nervously at his master.  The human loved the creature before him – loved the power, loved the strength and loved the danger.  Gulthias had searched for the beast ever since he had heard tales of him as a child.  The dragon of the Steel Barons - the Juggernaut of Doom .

The wizard had set out on his search and eventually found the beast.  Ashardalon spared his life, considering Gulthias a curiosity and an amusement.  Meanwhile the wizard in all his devotion did everything he could to appease his new master.  He scoured the land for ways to win the creatures contentment, increasing the dragon hoard and forming a cult of worshippers.  All in dedication to the godlike reptile he loved more than life itself.

“The other countries will come next, my master.  We take Krailem first for political reasons.  From there it will become easier to pilfer the outlying lands, and your hoard will increase hundredfold.  You will be worshipped from pole to pole, and you will take your place amongst the stars where the gods will shudder and tremble in your presence.”  Gulthias nervously watched the dragon as it slowly flexed its mighty muscles; scales the size of shields syncristically moving over the dragons flesh.  Oh, how Gulthias loved the beast.

“And there will be more destruction?” the dragon asked.

“Oh yes.”  Gulthias smiled.  “More then you could ever dream.  I know how the smaller races think, my master.  They will worship you or die.”

The dragon smiled toothily and spread his wings, a cloak of shadow eclipsing the surrounding fires and rubble.  “Then let us away to the castle.  My thirst for destruction grows ever more.”

Gulthias breathed a sigh of relief and started moving to the dragons side.  He then froze staring at a large block of stone near his foot.  There, near the middle, was a single drop of water.

Thunder chuckled savagely above.

Another drop joined it.

“Master we must haste - the druids come.”  Gulthias squinted into the darkness beyond the reaches of the splintered tower’s shell.  In the shadows he saw a small group of figures moving towards them, in the lead was a young girl dressed in white.

“It’s just a handful of humans, wizard.  I’ve defeated armies today.”

Gulthias flexed his fingers in panic, “They bring the girl, master.”

Ashardalon looked at the wizard curiously, making no effort to move.  “The girl?”

“Yes,”  Gulthias’ head swam as rain started to shower down, “the girl!  Saphernia I think she is named.  You destroyed a large portion of forest near them.  They say this child has powers beyond those known of any mortal.”

“Then your sources are wrong, dog!”  The dragon roared at the wizard upset at his worshiper’s lack of faith.  “Now move before I take you with them!”

Gulthias closed in eyes and held his breath.

His sources, creatures of the afterlife, although dishonest could have no possible reason for being so in this instance.  When they said that his master should fear this girl, he trusted them.  They had everything to gain from Ashardalon defeating Krailem.

Gulthias slowly let his breath out.  He loved his master he reminded himself.  More than life itself.

“Master, I urge you to please reconsid-“

Gulthias flew backwards hitting the wall with a sickening thud.  He numbly lay there as the girl entered the light, her bare feet stepping over the debris.

The dragon lowered his taloned claw.  “Reconsider _that_, wizard.”  Ashardalon turned to face the girl.

The rain softly fell, little pops fizzling as drops hit the fires.  The dragon lowered its head, eyes narrowing at the girl, scales glinting with the moisture.  The other druids remained standing on the outskirts of the ruins, cloaked in shadow.  The girls slowly held out her arms and looked towards the skies.  The rain softly pattered the flesh on her arms and face.  She could taste the rain on her lips.

Gulthias watched as his master remained motionless watching the girl.  Lifted an elbow and tried to move forward, but couldn’t.  A long piece of bent metal poked through the right side of his chest.  He looked down at it and the blood patch that was clinging his black and red robe to his body.  He coughed, blood staining his lips and chin.

The young girl lowered her head and looked to the dragon.  Both stood motionless no more than three metres from one another.

The rain was falling more solidly now.  The girl slowly stepped forward holding out a hand.  The ash, now turned mud, seeped between her toes.  The wizard watched intensely as she rose her arm to the height of the dragon’s nose and tenderly ran the tips of her fingers over it.  Her dress and hair were now plastered to her moon-pale skin.

She kissed the dragon.

The dragon reared back as if to lunge forward and attack, but quickly stopped itself.  The young girl stood still and looked questioningly at the dragon.  The dragon gave a half-hearted snarl, but there was no meaning in it.

Through the haze of pain the wizard watched.  Something was happening between the girl and his master but he couldn’t figure it out.  His vision was starting to blur now and he tried desperately to remain conscious.  The ghostly white form of the girl moved up past the dragon’s neck climbing over rock and wreckage, and rested both hands outstretched on the beasts chest.  Gulthias watched as the girl caressed the huge scales and rested her ear to the dragon’s chest.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

Darkness blanketed Gulthias’ vision, and he passed out.

Saphernia moved her head away from the dragon’s immense chest and looked up into his eyes.  She moved a hand up to her own eyes and rubbed them.  Even though the rain washed away the tears, her eyes still hurt.

Ashardalon looked at the girl puzzled.  Her shoulder’s were trembling.  She was crying.  Why was she crying?  What was she whispering?

A large peal of thunder shook the tower stones, and a quick wind picked up.  A mist of blue energy arced sizzling through the rain, radiating outwards from the dragon’s chest.  Screaming in pain, Ashardalon tried to rear away from the girl but found he couldn’t.  His claws racked the ground tearing up flagstones, roaring as lightning stabbed viciously and randomly about the sea of rubble.

Pulling back the dragon gave a mighty heave and felt an immense pain.  He stumbled backwards and watched as a red haze misted his vision.  Something was wrong.  He couldn’t feel his chest.  He trembled and watched in terror as his heart fell to the ground in front of the girl.  Blood spilled from the gaping wound through his ribcage and washed around the child’s feet.

Covered in blood, Saphernia smiled.

And then she died.


*To Be Continued...*


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 24, 2002)

That was a great read. Always a good way to finish an installment: "And then she died".

Good to see you writing again.

Spider.


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## Daniel Knight (Apr 11, 2003)

*...Story Hour Continued*

Gulthias slowly and painfully opened his eyes.

It wasn’t yet light at the West Tower, but all ready the scarlet fingers of dawn were spreading in the east.  Gulthias blinked painfully and looked about the war torn landscape.

Although it had stopped raining several hours ago, the ground and grey stones of the ruined tower were slick with moisture.  Tangled bodies littered the ground, and all ready crow caws could be heard as they awoke with the coming light.  The large heart of a dragon rested in the centre of the tower, the massive arteries viciously torn.  A child lay beside the muscle, coated in the dragon’s blood and lifeless.  Her hair spread out around her as a crown, floating in the inch deep pool of blood and water.  Even the gods could forgive an observer for thinking of such a scene of mutilation and despair as beautiful.  It was clear that this child was more than human - even in death she had presence.

The druids had left her body for the planet to reclaim.  They believed that burial, and certainly cremation, was the ultimate selfish act.  After all the planet had given to you, why rob it of the nutrients your body no longer needed?

The dragon was nowhere to be seen.

The numbness started to subside in Gulthias’ body, as the pain regained dominance in the wizard’s brain.  Nerve endings sparked haphazardly as they sent a message via the spinal collum that all feeling had been lost below the waist.  He coughed up a stream of blood as the pain in his chest engulfed his mind.  Once again his vision started to blur.  Biting into his cheek, he started to randomly focus his eyes on things around him to remain conscious.

The tip of the metal pocking through his torso.

The scars in the flagstones from Ashardalon’s talons.

The crow leisurely flapping its wings as it came in to land.

The cloaked figure moving beyond the bird.

Gulthias quickly felt a surge of adrenalin pump through his veins as he noticed the hooded man.  It was difficult to see what he was doing, but it was obvious he was moving from body to body on the battlefield.  Probably a looter.

“Heh… hel… peh…”  Gulthias coughed.

The figure quickly looked up at the wizard and stared, obviously surprised at someone living.  He slowly rose and moved towards him, lifting his hands up to remove the hood from his head.  Gulthias’ heart skipped a beat.  A polished human skull stared.

Moving in closer, Death moved his skeletal hand over the man’s cheek caressing his skin.  Gulthias was frozen, the blood slowly draining away from his face.  Death leaned forward and tenderly kissed the wizard forehead, leaned back, and shook his head in refusal.

“Not yet.”  The words sounded as from the wind itself, and as soon as uttered – seemed more imagined then real.  Death looked to his left pointedly, and Gulthias moved his head to look.  A figure strolled through the carnage and out of the darkness towards them.

It was a young man, not much older than twenty, short blond hair in dreadlocks and a wicked grin on his face.  He wore an array of green garments cut in a style not of Krailem, or any other country on the continent of Crimea.  The wizard mentally tried to sort the individual as friend or foe.  He waltzed up to Gulthias, sat down on a torn stone, and glared in the direction of the sun to soon rise above the edge of the horizon.  He didn’t seem to notice Death.

“Bundwa!” he casually quipped.  So, he was from Drophlooga, Gulthias thought.  There was no immediate allegiance with either side then.  Bundwa was the common greeting of those from the jungle planet, even now visible in the night sky as a green crescent beyond the moon.  The inhabitents of the planet mostly kept to themselves.

Gulthias stared at him.  Great, he thought sarcastically, I’m about to die and all I have for company is a talking skeleton and a man from space.

“It’s your lucky day Gulthias – I’m about to make you immortal.”

“Hhh… who…are…”

“Please don’t try to talk, it’ll only upset your breathing.  My name is Krifston, and it appears we have a mutual friend on the other side.  And I’m about to make her exceedingly happy.”  The boy grinned.  Death continued to stare at Gulthias.

Something ruptured inside him, and he could feel blood slowly start to fill his left lung.  He didn't have much time.  “Who…”

“I said a friend.  Now leave it at that – it appears your pet dragon has caused rather a stir in the underworld.”  The boy grinned again.  Gulthias found it annoying, as he watched Krifston glance to the east.  “Now, if you don’t mind I have what you might call: a deadline to meet.”

Leaning forward, the boy grinned a final time, a pair of white fangs hungrily pocking out beneath the lip line.

As the wizard felt the teeth dig into the flesh of his neck, he was sure he heard whispering on the wind a word that could have only been formed by Death.

“_Now_.”

*To Be Continued...*


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