Adventurers / Villains in this story: Kale T’Rave and his gaggle of scorpions! Ascher Kraw – First Watchman of Paws! Borin Drake – The Mighty Hammonk! (monk with a hammer) Hans - The Tax Collector of TKB Guest starring Lord Huzke of C^V! (oh yeah and Catalin) Villains: A brief appearance by Zimgar And LOL & Co. The Slayer! Bad Luck! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | | | | | |___________________________| | | | |______________________________| | | | | | | | | |___________________________| | | | |______________________________| | | | | | | | | |_______________CURTAINS___| | | | |_______________________________| | | | | | | | | |___________________________| | | | |______________________________| | | | | | | | | |___________________________| | | | |______________________________| | | | | | | | | |___________________________| | | | |______________________________| | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Catalin stood, slightly disoriented. He reached out and steadied himself on a… stalagmite? His thoughts were swirling as he tried to get his bearings. He was definitely in a cave but he could barely recall what had happened. Why was he sleeping in a cave? Which cave? The last thing he remembered were the glaring eyes of the Ruthless Mercedes; laughing as they had left his body for dead. “Slayer of Krakens! More like a crack pot slayer!” the villains’ laughter still echoed out loud in his mind and further disrupted his concentration. He shook his head and cursed “L-O-L” His thoughts froze and he tried to remain in the shadows when he heard the unmistakable clicking sounds of a scorpyne. Catalin had been through many battles, and known his fair share of hurt; in most cases the pain always passes and man can forget, but prick of a scorpyne’s tail will imbed the pain into the very bloodstream. Every vein, every living cell that survived the first encounter passes on the knowledge of that pain – the pain that is never forgotten. Catalin looked for a way to creep past the fearsome arthropod, but his heart sank when he saw his only path of escape led right into what appeared to be a moving wall. Yet he knew his eyes did not deceive him; the mobile rock formation consisted of no less than three earthen-kind. He crouched back further hoping perhaps for some miracle. Suddenly from behind the scorpyn, he heard a strange command, “Se! attttack!” and suddenly the six legs erupted with motion and charged towards the wall, with lighting speed the tail flashed again and again, the scorpyne crouched and strafed around the wall, piercing only when it knew it could strike, pierce it’s target, and recoil it’s tail without risking it being smashed by the now furious rock formation. Seeing his chance, Catalin sprang out of the shadows and began piercing with his spear, ignoring the flaring pain that burned in his skin as his whole body seemed to scream at him with the memory of the pain. Catalin could tell the earthen-kind quickly succumbed to the poison quickly as their blows softened and their swings became more labored and clumsy. He would have to bolt past them before they actually fell, or risk fighting the same creature that had subdued them. One of the elementals fell to the ground and Catalin moved to dash past them, but that’s when he heard another command “Se! Stay.” And the creature stopped dead in place, poised ready to strike, but yet completely docile as if waiting a command. He finally turned, to see a robed man, a hermit of the cave for how long Catalin could only pretend to guess. The two remaining elementals teetered and then collapsed in the backround drawing Catalin's attention for a moment. The scorpyne seemed to relax and began nonchalantly cleanings its claws and mandibles. He gulped, and then returned his focus to the hermit. “You have my thanks! I am Catalin of Paws and if you had not arrived when you did, I fear the only news you’d hear of me is my obituary! What is your name my good man?” “Kale T’Rave, you can call me. And if it pleases you, I’ll be moving on. Se doesn’t much care for menkind other than myself.” “Sir, at risk of life and limb, you are precisely the reason I believe I am here in this cave this very night!,” Catalin was clearly invigorated, “For nigh over a year, I have tried without success to reach a shrine of Virtue known as Compassion. It is my sworn duty to clear and maintain all the shrines of the Avatar, but this one, surrounded by death and desert, has eluded me. I cannot get but a few steps into the desert before I am met with the sting and pain of scorpyne’s like this one you’ve befriended. Therefore I do insist, and hereby recruit you to accompany me on this quest!” Kale’s response was clearly hesitant, “Very well. I suppose if I’ve no choice in the matter, then I must come.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The candle, lit upon the shrine, brought no short amount of relief to Catalin. He turned and beamed at his company of Virtue - Borin Drake, Ascher Kraw, and Kale T’Rave. Without their sheer might and will, he never would have made it this far. Catalin exhaled a short sigh of relief, followed by a quick puff of air in his chest “SuFLARE VITALE!” Catalin then looked around the desert, and basked in the momentary peace. He had not planned anything beyond this point. Quite frankly he hadn’t planned out anything, he had just started out with a dagger, a traveling bag, and a desire to adventure. And now here he stood. He looked again at his comrades and offered a simple query “Well… what now?” Ascher turned to his satchel, rummaged for a moment, and dug out a strange harp, “Well I did find this odd instrument on one of the earthen-kind. Seems awefully powerful… I’ve never seen these strange runes encrusted on a harp before. And trust me, I’ve seen more instruments than I care to remember.” Borin stepped forward and quietly exclaimed, “Well I’ll be damned. This appears to be fashioned out of the same material that the Monks sent me in search of! This is instrument can surely play the Dischord of Malevolence.” Borin looked around at the group as if perplexed they didn’t follow him, “Why it’s the only tune that can demoralize the Soul Harvester!” A slow grin crossed Borin’s face, and spread quickly to Ascher’s, leaving Catalin alone to guess their shared thought. Then Borin explained, “I know exactly what we’re going to do now!” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Epilogue Lord Huzke chased the thief about the desert for hours. Every time he felt the bandit was within his grasp, the clever fool seemed to just evade the final strike. But Huzke would not give up the chase, he would not allow this thief to escape with his prized harp. But in the flurry, he hadn’t noticed that somewhere back in the dunes, Zimgar had already deposited the instrument, hoping to elude capture and return to reclaim the prize later. After several more hours, Huzke finally resigned the chase, and moved on to other endeavors. He’d heard tales of creatures more blasphemous than demons that dwelt deep in the mountain depths of Hythloth… As Huzke departed for the nearest library, Fate sat over her clothe covered table, and gazed into her ball. With a quick snap of her wrist a curious Taro card appeared betwixt her fingers. She laid it down softly revealing a Tower. She let out a giggle “Ascher never could resist a little danger…”
