Re: Mini-Grand 5106 [Round 2: The Graben]
09-07-2011, 10:43 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Protoman.
The mage blinked once or twice, trying to grasp what exactly had just happened. Once he felt he had a nice hold on the situation, he looked up at his attacker and gave a smug smirk.
"A spear? How quaint. If your cries and sudden harsh demands were meant as an intimidation ploy, I'll give you credit, you almost had me going there. But not quite."
The spearman narrowed his eyes and glared at his hostage. Mattilus decided it was not the time to be a sarcastic, condescending douche.
"N-Now then, would you mind elaborating on what you mean by 'the spi---' oh my, it's Naiima, isn't it?"
"Insolent wretch! You speak the name of the goddess with such audacity?!"
The young warrior tensed up, prepared to kill the heathen, should his blasphemous tongue offend him any more.
"Goddess? Oh my. She got you to believe she's a--- I mean, yes, the goddess, I apologize for being so... rude. Now then, to answer, yes, I am a friend of your spider's. Now then, would you mind telling me where she is? I have a horde of tribal zombies combing the jungle for me, all of them under the control of some crazy river spirit zombie chik, and I'd like to meet with your queen spider before i get skewered on a sta----"
"You speak too much, wretch! I know not where you're from, nor what your purpose here is, but today, you diaugh"
the man collapsed, a much older man in green robes having hit him from behind with a book.
"You. You spoke of a river spirit, of her mindless servants in the forest?"
Mattilus loosened up and sat up straight once more. "Why yes, yes I did. Have you run into the same problem?"
The mage's gaze strayed from the old one's incredibly manly beard to the book he had clutched.
"There is no need to gaze at this so covetously. I know you are it's owner, and a wicked and powerful one you are. I have seen it in my dreams. I know what destruction you have wrought with this book. But I am an old man, not a thief, and what's yours is yours. And though i fear it, it may be the only salvation we have from this succubus."
Mattilus took hold of the book as the man handed it to him. He skimmed through the pages. Several were covered with blood, others with mud, leaving them illegible. It seemed spells involving portals, as well as any healing spells were out.
"State your name, purpose, and how this book came into your possession."
Ransajan sighed and shook his head. Such a disrespectful tongue in the mouth of one so young was unheard of amongst his tribe. But as undesirable as this alliance was, it was necessary.
"Ransajan the Eldest, of the Tribe of the Green Leaf. My entire tribe has been made into slaves of the River Spirit. My tribe found the book in the hands of a man from the tribe of the Red Spider."
"Very well. Now, then, Ransajan, what would you propose we do to stop this demonic sparkklechik?"
"I know not what a sparkklechik is, friend, though it sounds very silly, and I'd prefer to be serious in these dire circumstances. As for the River Spirit, I feel the only thing we can do is enlist the Red Spiders. It's a risky move, and I may be killed on sight, but I fear there are no other options. This man is of their tribe as well. Once he awakens, he may be able to lead us there."
The mage sighed, removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.
"Can't imagine him being incredibly eager to do that. But I doubt he can do much to me, now that I have this book."
"...If we should work together, friend, I would like to ask some questions. The book had memories attached to it. Bad ones."
"Like what?"
The old man sighed a sigh of ages, stroking his beard and gazing into the moonlight. It was the only light that shone for the cave, as a fire might attract the hordes.
"Well..."
And so the mage and the elder sat and spoke through the cold dark night, awaiting the revival of the young tribesman.
The mage blinked once or twice, trying to grasp what exactly had just happened. Once he felt he had a nice hold on the situation, he looked up at his attacker and gave a smug smirk.
"A spear? How quaint. If your cries and sudden harsh demands were meant as an intimidation ploy, I'll give you credit, you almost had me going there. But not quite."
The spearman narrowed his eyes and glared at his hostage. Mattilus decided it was not the time to be a sarcastic, condescending douche.
"N-Now then, would you mind elaborating on what you mean by 'the spi---' oh my, it's Naiima, isn't it?"
"Insolent wretch! You speak the name of the goddess with such audacity?!"
The young warrior tensed up, prepared to kill the heathen, should his blasphemous tongue offend him any more.
"Goddess? Oh my. She got you to believe she's a--- I mean, yes, the goddess, I apologize for being so... rude. Now then, to answer, yes, I am a friend of your spider's. Now then, would you mind telling me where she is? I have a horde of tribal zombies combing the jungle for me, all of them under the control of some crazy river spirit zombie chik, and I'd like to meet with your queen spider before i get skewered on a sta----"
"You speak too much, wretch! I know not where you're from, nor what your purpose here is, but today, you diaugh"
the man collapsed, a much older man in green robes having hit him from behind with a book.
"You. You spoke of a river spirit, of her mindless servants in the forest?"
Mattilus loosened up and sat up straight once more. "Why yes, yes I did. Have you run into the same problem?"
The mage's gaze strayed from the old one's incredibly manly beard to the book he had clutched.
"There is no need to gaze at this so covetously. I know you are it's owner, and a wicked and powerful one you are. I have seen it in my dreams. I know what destruction you have wrought with this book. But I am an old man, not a thief, and what's yours is yours. And though i fear it, it may be the only salvation we have from this succubus."
Mattilus took hold of the book as the man handed it to him. He skimmed through the pages. Several were covered with blood, others with mud, leaving them illegible. It seemed spells involving portals, as well as any healing spells were out.
"State your name, purpose, and how this book came into your possession."
Ransajan sighed and shook his head. Such a disrespectful tongue in the mouth of one so young was unheard of amongst his tribe. But as undesirable as this alliance was, it was necessary.
"Ransajan the Eldest, of the Tribe of the Green Leaf. My entire tribe has been made into slaves of the River Spirit. My tribe found the book in the hands of a man from the tribe of the Red Spider."
"Very well. Now, then, Ransajan, what would you propose we do to stop this demonic sparkklechik?"
"I know not what a sparkklechik is, friend, though it sounds very silly, and I'd prefer to be serious in these dire circumstances. As for the River Spirit, I feel the only thing we can do is enlist the Red Spiders. It's a risky move, and I may be killed on sight, but I fear there are no other options. This man is of their tribe as well. Once he awakens, he may be able to lead us there."
The mage sighed, removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.
"Can't imagine him being incredibly eager to do that. But I doubt he can do much to me, now that I have this book."
"...If we should work together, friend, I would like to ask some questions. The book had memories attached to it. Bad ones."
"Like what?"
The old man sighed a sigh of ages, stroking his beard and gazing into the moonlight. It was the only light that shone for the cave, as a fire might attract the hordes.
"Well..."
And so the mage and the elder sat and spoke through the cold dark night, awaiting the revival of the young tribesman.