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News » Bhaalspawns' Tale: As Bold As Bold Can Be
A/N Hey! It's the next Chapter! Yay! Okay, here I go...
All of them trooped in one line, eager to get out of the dungeon. They soon reached a hallway littered with dead bodies. Most of the bodies were hooded figures, and were still fresh, hardly showing signs of decay. Thráwen tried her best to keep in what little food she had left in her stomach. As they went through the hall, Imoen muttered, “What a grim place.”
Thráwen looked at Imoen with a “you think?” look and continued walking. They eventually reached a room with a strange contraption in the middle. The contraption was containing electricity, and doing a good job of it. All of the sudden, a lightning bolt shot out. Not at them, of course, but across the room. There, in the lightning bolt’s place was an ugly imp-like creature.
Jaheira narrowed her eyes.
“Mephits,” she growled.
The mephit squeaked and let loose a lightning bolt at the group. The lightning bolt hit Minsc square in the chest.
Minsc appeared to be unhurt, but he searched in his jerkin for something. Finally, he pulled out a little creature, black, and hair standing on end. The poor creature had been fried by the lightning bolt. It coughed and a puff of black smoke came from its mouth.
“Boo! You are fried!” Minsc said, angrily. He stuffed Boo in his jerkin as he descended on the mephit.
The mephit died quickly and Minsc brushed his hands. Right then, another lightning bolt came out of the contraption and another mephit formed.
Soon, the whole party was killing the mephits as fast as they were appearing.
“It’s not good!” Celüith said. “We’ll be overwhelmed!”
“Gee, you think?” Thráwen shouted sarcastically. Then, something caught her eye. On the other side of the room, there was a switch to the contraption. Thráwen ran over to it and pulled the switch.
After the mephits had been killed, Minsc looked around.
“There are no more electric imps?” Minsc asked. Everyone heard a weak squeak from Minsc’s jerkin.
Thráwen looked around. Jaheira was clutching on to her arm, her hand all bloody. Imoen was squeezing her dagger hand. Minsc was fried all over, but he didn’t seem to notice. Celüith appeared to be unhurt. Thráwen then looked at herself (as best as she could without a mirror) and blood was flowing down her leg. That seemed to be the only wound she got.
She walked back over to the group and fire shot up her leg. Thráwen winced, but did not cry out as she was afraid of getting caught again.
Then Thráwen stepped on a dead mephit body. It crunched underneath her feet and she looked down. Blood was surrounding it; its body sprawled across the floor. It seemed to have anguish on its face. That was it. She let out any food she had left in her stomach on the floor.
Imoen turned her head away, not wanting to blow chokes herself. Jaheira didn’t care that Thráwen was retching; it was a natural process for her. Minsc seemed to be his happy self still, hardly aware of anything bad happening. Celüith looked upon her with a twisted pride. She deserved what she got.
Thráwen’s eyes were teary after she vomited, as the vomit smelled horrible and it burned up her throat. She blinked the tears away and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She reminded herself to never have venison again.
She caught the slightest glimpse of Celüith gloating over her weakness, and she glared at him. What an asshole. Thráwen then stepped over the vomit and mephit carefully, almost stepping on another mephit. After tip-toeing her way through the mephits to her group, Thráwen jumped. A booming voice echoed through the room.
“Ah, Thráwen, Celüith! You escaped somewhat earlier than I thought!” it said.
All faces turned to a figure coalescing into view. It was a genie, but there was no lamp.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have a question to ask you two,” the genie said.
“If it leads to making some sense,” Celüith muttered.
“You and a sibling are trapped in two different cells with a button in each cell. The mage who trapped you explains his sadistic game: if you push the button, you will die, but you’re sibling will go free. If your sibling pushes the button, your sibling will die, but you will go free. If both of you press the respective buttons, both of you will die. If neither of you press the button, both of you will die. What do you do?” the genie explained.
“It depends on which sibling you’re talking about,” Celüith growled.
“It doesn’t matter,” the genie replied.
Thráwen and Celüith thought for a moment.
“I will press the button,” they said simultaneously. Then, they glared at each other.
“Ah, very noble of you…” the genie said. “Deal with this, noble ones!”
The genie disappeared and Thráwen looked around. If he would disappear, what problem would that be? He wasn’t a big help anyway, him and his riddles.
A roar erupted from the back of the group. Thráwen turned her head and saw what roared. It was an ugly creature wearing leather armor. It was well over seven feet tall and very bulky. Its nose was pierced and jewelry hung down from its horns.
Jaheira gasped, “An ogre magician!”
This one appeared to be male. A higher-pitched roar came from the front of the group. This was the same creature, but different gender.
“Oh, crap,” Thráwen said.
The two creatures raised their menacing swords and bellowed out different things.
Thráwen, Imoen, and Jaheira charged the female ogre mage while Minsc, Boo, and Celüith charged at the male (actually Minsc did most of the charging—Boo just squeaked him some strategies).
Imoen winced as she plunged the dagger into the ogress’s back. It wasn’t so much that she was killing a creature, it was the fact that she had a big gash across her hand that hurt a lot.
Thráwen swung her katana around and struck the creature in the stomach with the hilt of her blade, making the ogress bend over forwards, throwing Imoen off her back, and flying towards Thráwen.
Imoen crashed into Thráwen and Thráwen doubled over backwards.
“Thanks,” Imoen said.
“No problem,” Thráwen gasped.
Imoen got off of Thráwen carefully, as Jaheira stabbed the ogress. Black blood poured out of the wound, and the ogress roared.
The ogress muttered some words and there was a magic missile, flying at each of the women.
Thráwen screamed as the missile hit her thigh. It seared through her skin, creating white-hot pain that shot up her waist. After the pain, she groaned. Her thigh was throbbing.
“Was that really necessary?” she asked weakly and rhetorically.
~*~
Celüith strategically pierced the ogre in many different places, while Minsc charged it and chopped off its arm.
The ogre tried desperately to hold in his lifesblood but wasn’t succeeding. Taking one last look at Celüith and Minsc, all bloodied up really bad, it roared a gurgled roar.
Celüith looked at the ogre, slowly falling down on the ground.
Celüith panted with pride, knowing that he had killed one of the toughest creatures so far, but would rub it in Thráwen’s face later.
Taking a look at the womens’ condition, Minsc realized that they were losing. He let loose a war cry and ran towards the ogress.
The ogress didn’t see that coming. She tried desperately to fend off Minsc’s attack with his 2-handed sword, but to no prevail. His attacks were ruthless and eventually brought down the ogress.
Celüith looked around the room. Imoen was unconscious, Jaheira was baring her teeth, and Thráwen was groaning, no weapon in hand.
Celüith ran his hand through his hair, picking up cold sweat.
The figure coalesced again.
“Good! Very good! You are as bold as bold can be! Rievlev looks for such as you! Farewell!” the genie exclaimed, very excited.
“Wait--” Celüith started.
The figure disappeared.
“—who’s Rievlev?” Celüith asked to empty air.
Posted by Meg on Sunday, June 22, 2003 (01:09:37) (1187 reads)
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