Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Dayel 04 04 06

Dayel emerged from the tunnel after many hours, blinking in the daylight. He looked around moments later, and saw that he was on top of a small hill, the rambling remains of the Temple behind him.

Below him in a valley, he saw a road. Looking more closely, he noticed pieces of metal and wood scattered around one end of the valley, and saw that the road seemed to have long thin pieces of metal running along its length. Steam rose from the pile of metal, and he saw people climbing around.

He had never seen so much metal in his life, and he assumed that an alchemist must have been responsible. He climbed part way down the hill, careful to stay in cover, and came within bowshot of the men at the wreckage. They wore unearthly clothes, seemingly breeches and shirts all of one piece, and with a fine stripe of gleaming white and blue, unlike anything he had ever seen. Realising these must be alchemists of great wealth, he strung his bow, while quickly assessing their numbers. Four were in sight...

He let fly with his first shot at the nearest, and it took him through the chest. He fell with a look of shock still clear on his face. Dayel leapt from his hiding place behind a boulder and drew his Vorpal Blade in one motion....



Dayel leapt over the body of the first, padding silently towards the next man he saw, who was oblivious to the approaching danger. This one was holding a shovel, and was scooping coal into a huge stockpile next to a giant iron cart attached to the steaming wreckage. He began to turn as Dayel was upon him, "watch the spade" Dayel heard in his mind, as the sword tried to help. He easily avoided a desperate swing of the shovel and slid the Vorpal Blade between the man's ribs.

The other two had disappeared, and Dayel crept slowly around the wreck. On the other side, he saw them sitting together, a small shiny object between them. "And then Byrnesy" said the taller one, "the grade was waay too much for a boiler of this capacity, and he overloaded it. The pressure was more than 1.5 times the allowable tolerance..." The one speaking held a talisman, a small metal toy of intricate detail. Dayel was confused - it must be magical, otherwise why would grown men have such a child's plaything? The other one, shorter and fastidiously dressed in the same clothes as the first two, replied "I know, I know. Look, just give me the model and I will show you..."
"No, it is my turn!" cried the other, snatching away the magical bauble.

As they were distracted, Dayel drew from his pouch the materials for a fireball spell...

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