Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Scrawl Session 3

Our heroes are in deep trouble, the party is split and things are looking rather unripe. A ramp has separated the two groups: Swann and Jestur and Malfor and Onilio. Alas how does it happen, sounds like a serious serious session with the good ol’ mantrap man. The Gods have not figured on how to get them out of there, thus we switch stories to Otilio and Malfor- the farmer still out from the fight with the Ettin. 
     Malfor coughed, his mind racing after the soul-ring grasped his consciousness from the lost worlds. Upon the brink of death the white-gold carried him forth, returning him to the realm of the living. We wakes but he is very weak, the ring pulling his consciousness from the brink of doom. It floated there and the metal surrounded his spirit until it rushed back to the mortal world of wonder, an greatness to behold. But Malfor returns incredibly weak and tired, barely able t carry his wondrous stuffings.
     Otilio heard the heroes fall down the hall. Heard the familiar slide, it was an old trick devised by a more intelligent culture, but he thought but could not place the magnificent tiles upon the service. The Gnorc entered the tomb from its eastern face, coming across it upon the cliff he scaled with a party. 
     The Gnorc, Otilio rushed down the corridor from where his new-found companions recently screamed from, he found nothing, the handle was on the base, he did notice the curtains waving a bit and the sand-marks of a drag or scuffle. 
     “They must be about here, I am sure of it” he thought to himself. Blazing forth toward the room, the Gnorc knew that this only meant doom to touch the torch but surely there was an alternate trigger. He noted about there was a sconce in the wall behind the torch
     Gnorc grabbed a length of rope, tying it about his waste and flung it over one of the railings supporting the curtains. Hanging himself from the waist he placed a torch upon the sconce. He felt a click, closed his eyes and hoped for the best. 

     Deep below Swann and Jestur fought flinging the remains of a former guest into the leech-flooding hole, they suddenly heard a clang, and the iris of the hole shut, slicing a leech in half.