The Tablets of Trithogoth-
|
As their lives all take a turn for the worst, three men are magically invited into a fantasy war between science and magic.
|
“Send me back. I don't let anyone pull me into doing their dirty work.” Dirk demanded.
Seratain's smile faded, but he held his hand up. The elven Pegasus rider fought the silent order, then responded. “The prophesies have betrayed us!”
“His aid will benefit us.” Seratain calmly assured the representatives. “For he cannot arrive at his home world unless he fulfills his destiny.”
Dirk frowned, not enjoying the tone of the man's voice. “Meaning?”
Seratain continued the story, and pointed to the other tapestries lining the walls. “I am but an Apprentice to the powerful Mystic Varcen, who received a majority of his power from the magic enhancer: the Orb of Varcen. That Orb is in the hands of our enemy: the werewolf wizard, Kovalt, and I will not have the power to send you home until I get that Orb back into the rightful hands of productive users of peace.”
Dirk slunk slowly into his high backed, engraved, wooden chair. “High tailed bug grubbers,” he swore in his own fashion, comprehending what he heard, but finding it raunchy to accept.
Seratain returned to his seat and sat back with a pleasurable smile. “You will help us. And you will be rewarded.”
“Getting us back home would be reward enough.” Dirk mumbled to Eric. “And if that's the case, I'd like mind in advance.”
Eric sat in his chair, uneasy about how this was developing, and stood up.
“Wait a minute. I couldn't possibly be of any service. I design weapons, I don't use them.”
Seratain laughed, a shrill echoing sound that sent a chill up Eric's spine. “You will desire the weight of these weapons, for as I said before, I have seen you many times.” He waved his hand towards the wall.
A section of it disappeared and there, within a crevice were some advanced modern weapons: a pistol with an enhanced, larger barrel and a long-barreled automatic weapon. There was also a modified spear set with it. Included was a chain connected to a bandoleer, which housed the power-source. Both the chain and bandoleer appeared to be cumbersome and awkward. Several other straps were hanging neatly in the crevice, which contained several black clips and additional rounds of ammunition. There was also a larger, metal box marked, “Dangerous Ammunition.”
Eric jumped up and ran towards them, laughing and smiling, which seemed unusual behavior to some of the table's occupants. He carefully reached in and pulled out the long barreled gun and strapped it to his arm. It felt heavy in his grasp, and weighed him down. But the comfort and control of the deadly device kept his attention as he swayed it around.
“How did you know?” Eric demanded, rejoicing.
“Magic is a strange thing, that it does.” Seratain replied.
“What's so great?” Dirk asked Eric as he got up from his seat and made his way to the other's side.
“I designed these weapons,” he said as he lowered it. “I was on my way to sell the designs when I got jumped in the subway.”
“You were needed for your knowledge of these weapons. Magic chose your weapons because of their... uh, fruitful abilities. You were also selected for your battle tactics and leadership skills.” Seratain told him. Turning to Dirk, he continued. “You were required for your strength, endurance, and stamina. And the Third Warrior is needed for his stealth and agility.”
“Wait a second.” Dirk replied. “You got these weapons from our world, right?”
Seratain nodded a positive.
“And if Eric says they haven't been made yet, then where did you get them from? The future?”
Seratain's nonverbal response was answer enough.
“Then I do sell my weapons!” Eric shouted happily.
Seratain frowned at Dirk's deduction.
“Then what about me? What happens to me? I was about to be killed in a prison fight.” Dirk asked desperately.
Seratain turned away. “My sincerest apologies, but aid you I cannot. I've already shown you beyond your temporal knowledge. I cannot tell you more, for fear that it might endanger your future.”
Dirk was not too keen with his response. “Oh, but it's perfectly safe to grab a cache of futuristic weapons and bring them to another world's dark ages.”
Eric smiled as he raised the sleek automatic with little difficulty. “If we're going to have to fight, I select this for my arsenal.”
Dirk reached into the crevice and picked up the large pistol. He tossed it from hand to hand, feeling its weight and style. He took a quick aim down the barrel, then aimed at the table, where the other delegates sat. Immediately, they all ducked, causing Dirk to chuckle. He turned to the old wizard, another question forming in his mind.
“Why are they hiding back over there if we've been prophesied to come for years? Those... people out there ate us up.”
Seratain shrunk from the truth, then released it. “You are men of science from a domain of science. We believe in magic as strongly as your believe in science, and it would be impossible to sway the other. If anyone here were to give up his magical belief by understanding science, he or she would give up his magic heritage and become corrupt, as Kovalt has. You are important to the plan, but still a necessary evil.”
“But there's nothing bad about it.” Eric retaliated, “Let me know you...”
“Warrior!” Seratain shouted, making the room's occupant's cringe, “Do you believe in magic?”
Eric paused. “No.”
“This is a world of magic. If it were to cease to be a world of magic, or faith, then it would become a world of endless destruction and misery... much like your very own world. You and your weapons are here only so that we may understand Kovalt's forces, be able to counter-attack his plans, and even the playing field safely. As you might say: fight fire with fire.”
An empty silence rung in their ears, then he spoke once more, quietly. “Inspect your weapons, and do so without haste. We must plan our attacks immediately while Kovalt is still healing from the day's events.”
Quick and short grunts could be heard up ahead around the corner. They didn't wander in pitch, indicating that the group could still probably catch the guards off guard.
With the others hiding in a not-so-comfortable or secluded area down the hall, Teripin and Shimball crept up to the corner with careful stealth.
Lying on his left shoulder, the elf reached into a pouch and retrieved a shiny stone. Then, while keeping his head back, he held out the stone in his right hand into the hall.
After searching around, he pulled his arm back slowly. He held up two fingers to the dwarf, then slowly stood up. Eric watched as he strung his bow, then found a straight arrow and tightened the end into the string. Shimball held up his ax and prepared to move as Teripin took a deep breath, then walked boldly into the hallway.
A cutting slash darted through the air, and one of the hairy gnolls gurgled in wrenching pain, clawing at the arrow submerged into his throat, then collapsed in a stinking heap to the ground.
The other shot his eyes to him, then spun to hit the alarm button as Shimball tore from around the corner and pounced upon him with this ax swinging. With a crunch and a splash of blood, the guard slipped and tumbled to the ground that was colder than he was onto his dead associate.
Shimball let his ax fly, and the cords and wires activating the alarm were cut, keeping any others from trying to reach the rest of the castle. With the deed done by his weapon, Shimball caught it before its clattering to the ground caught anyone's attention.
Teripin whistled slightly and the others came around the corner to face the door of the main prison. Teripin, his eyes used for night vision and dark corners, peered in. Aspen flew up for a look, and dropped away quickly as the rancid torrent of fumes disagreed with his stomach. The elf also pulled away.
“The Third is present behind this door, but I fear he is not fairing well. He must be taken from this place so that Seratain may undo Kovalt's evil ploy.”
He backed away and pointed to the lock. Aspen, gulping in fear and surprise, positioned himself before the door. Reaching in his own pouch, he produced a tiny shard of stone. He inserted that and his tiny hand into the lock and began to work.
For a few moments, silence was portrayed and gasps were stifled as the delicate clicks sounded from inside. Aspen then pulled away, frustrated, and kicked the lock out of anger.
The lock sprung and the door opened. Khock shot him amused glance, then started in after Teripin.
The whole magic users party was in the door and letting the blackness of the prison swallow them when Trieekch poked his head out of the wall to view them enter. He looked up above the door, where an unnoticed, red light flashed. Fortunately for him, they had forgotten to cut the silent alarm. It didn't matter anyway, for all was set to greet the betrayers-by-heart. He vanished down the hole, preparing to see the small army that awaited the defiling band.
Seratain's smile faded, but he held his hand up. The elven Pegasus rider fought the silent order, then responded. “The prophesies have betrayed us!”
“His aid will benefit us.” Seratain calmly assured the representatives. “For he cannot arrive at his home world unless he fulfills his destiny.”
Dirk frowned, not enjoying the tone of the man's voice. “Meaning?”
Seratain continued the story, and pointed to the other tapestries lining the walls. “I am but an Apprentice to the powerful Mystic Varcen, who received a majority of his power from the magic enhancer: the Orb of Varcen. That Orb is in the hands of our enemy: the werewolf wizard, Kovalt, and I will not have the power to send you home until I get that Orb back into the rightful hands of productive users of peace.”
Dirk slunk slowly into his high backed, engraved, wooden chair. “High tailed bug grubbers,” he swore in his own fashion, comprehending what he heard, but finding it raunchy to accept.
Seratain returned to his seat and sat back with a pleasurable smile. “You will help us. And you will be rewarded.”
“Getting us back home would be reward enough.” Dirk mumbled to Eric. “And if that's the case, I'd like mind in advance.”
Eric sat in his chair, uneasy about how this was developing, and stood up.
“Wait a minute. I couldn't possibly be of any service. I design weapons, I don't use them.”
Seratain laughed, a shrill echoing sound that sent a chill up Eric's spine. “You will desire the weight of these weapons, for as I said before, I have seen you many times.” He waved his hand towards the wall.
A section of it disappeared and there, within a crevice were some advanced modern weapons: a pistol with an enhanced, larger barrel and a long-barreled automatic weapon. There was also a modified spear set with it. Included was a chain connected to a bandoleer, which housed the power-source. Both the chain and bandoleer appeared to be cumbersome and awkward. Several other straps were hanging neatly in the crevice, which contained several black clips and additional rounds of ammunition. There was also a larger, metal box marked, “Dangerous Ammunition.”
Eric jumped up and ran towards them, laughing and smiling, which seemed unusual behavior to some of the table's occupants. He carefully reached in and pulled out the long barreled gun and strapped it to his arm. It felt heavy in his grasp, and weighed him down. But the comfort and control of the deadly device kept his attention as he swayed it around.
“How did you know?” Eric demanded, rejoicing.
“Magic is a strange thing, that it does.” Seratain replied.
“What's so great?” Dirk asked Eric as he got up from his seat and made his way to the other's side.
“I designed these weapons,” he said as he lowered it. “I was on my way to sell the designs when I got jumped in the subway.”
“You were needed for your knowledge of these weapons. Magic chose your weapons because of their... uh, fruitful abilities. You were also selected for your battle tactics and leadership skills.” Seratain told him. Turning to Dirk, he continued. “You were required for your strength, endurance, and stamina. And the Third Warrior is needed for his stealth and agility.”
“Wait a second.” Dirk replied. “You got these weapons from our world, right?”
Seratain nodded a positive.
“And if Eric says they haven't been made yet, then where did you get them from? The future?”
Seratain's nonverbal response was answer enough.
“Then I do sell my weapons!” Eric shouted happily.
Seratain frowned at Dirk's deduction.
“Then what about me? What happens to me? I was about to be killed in a prison fight.” Dirk asked desperately.
Seratain turned away. “My sincerest apologies, but aid you I cannot. I've already shown you beyond your temporal knowledge. I cannot tell you more, for fear that it might endanger your future.”
Dirk was not too keen with his response. “Oh, but it's perfectly safe to grab a cache of futuristic weapons and bring them to another world's dark ages.”
Eric smiled as he raised the sleek automatic with little difficulty. “If we're going to have to fight, I select this for my arsenal.”
Dirk reached into the crevice and picked up the large pistol. He tossed it from hand to hand, feeling its weight and style. He took a quick aim down the barrel, then aimed at the table, where the other delegates sat. Immediately, they all ducked, causing Dirk to chuckle. He turned to the old wizard, another question forming in his mind.
“Why are they hiding back over there if we've been prophesied to come for years? Those... people out there ate us up.”
Seratain shrunk from the truth, then released it. “You are men of science from a domain of science. We believe in magic as strongly as your believe in science, and it would be impossible to sway the other. If anyone here were to give up his magical belief by understanding science, he or she would give up his magic heritage and become corrupt, as Kovalt has. You are important to the plan, but still a necessary evil.”
“But there's nothing bad about it.” Eric retaliated, “Let me know you...”
“Warrior!” Seratain shouted, making the room's occupant's cringe, “Do you believe in magic?”
Eric paused. “No.”
“This is a world of magic. If it were to cease to be a world of magic, or faith, then it would become a world of endless destruction and misery... much like your very own world. You and your weapons are here only so that we may understand Kovalt's forces, be able to counter-attack his plans, and even the playing field safely. As you might say: fight fire with fire.”
An empty silence rung in their ears, then he spoke once more, quietly. “Inspect your weapons, and do so without haste. We must plan our attacks immediately while Kovalt is still healing from the day's events.”
Quick and short grunts could be heard up ahead around the corner. They didn't wander in pitch, indicating that the group could still probably catch the guards off guard.
With the others hiding in a not-so-comfortable or secluded area down the hall, Teripin and Shimball crept up to the corner with careful stealth.
Lying on his left shoulder, the elf reached into a pouch and retrieved a shiny stone. Then, while keeping his head back, he held out the stone in his right hand into the hall.
After searching around, he pulled his arm back slowly. He held up two fingers to the dwarf, then slowly stood up. Eric watched as he strung his bow, then found a straight arrow and tightened the end into the string. Shimball held up his ax and prepared to move as Teripin took a deep breath, then walked boldly into the hallway.
A cutting slash darted through the air, and one of the hairy gnolls gurgled in wrenching pain, clawing at the arrow submerged into his throat, then collapsed in a stinking heap to the ground.
The other shot his eyes to him, then spun to hit the alarm button as Shimball tore from around the corner and pounced upon him with this ax swinging. With a crunch and a splash of blood, the guard slipped and tumbled to the ground that was colder than he was onto his dead associate.
Shimball let his ax fly, and the cords and wires activating the alarm were cut, keeping any others from trying to reach the rest of the castle. With the deed done by his weapon, Shimball caught it before its clattering to the ground caught anyone's attention.
Teripin whistled slightly and the others came around the corner to face the door of the main prison. Teripin, his eyes used for night vision and dark corners, peered in. Aspen flew up for a look, and dropped away quickly as the rancid torrent of fumes disagreed with his stomach. The elf also pulled away.
“The Third is present behind this door, but I fear he is not fairing well. He must be taken from this place so that Seratain may undo Kovalt's evil ploy.”
He backed away and pointed to the lock. Aspen, gulping in fear and surprise, positioned himself before the door. Reaching in his own pouch, he produced a tiny shard of stone. He inserted that and his tiny hand into the lock and began to work.
For a few moments, silence was portrayed and gasps were stifled as the delicate clicks sounded from inside. Aspen then pulled away, frustrated, and kicked the lock out of anger.
The lock sprung and the door opened. Khock shot him amused glance, then started in after Teripin.
The whole magic users party was in the door and letting the blackness of the prison swallow them when Trieekch poked his head out of the wall to view them enter. He looked up above the door, where an unnoticed, red light flashed. Fortunately for him, they had forgotten to cut the silent alarm. It didn't matter anyway, for all was set to greet the betrayers-by-heart. He vanished down the hole, preparing to see the small army that awaited the defiling band.