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Old 05-17-2003, 01:34 PM   #11
Wyvern
Ironworks Moderator
 

Join Date: January 7, 2001
Location: Rural Paradise, MI
Posts: 5,701
CHAPTER ELEVEN:

Taking leave of the Stout King, Missy returned to Ishad N'ha. While she still had work to do at the mines, particularly to get that nice set of dragon armor, she was anxious for whatever training was awaiting her. She stopped in at the warrior guild. "Greetz. The stouts said they'd consider the invitation, but they made no promises."

"Aye, 'tis only reasonable. Still, you're the first to get them to at least consider it. That's gotta be worth something. Perhaps we'll be able to call on 'em soon."

"We can only hope," she replied. "Now, about that training you promised...?"

"Yes, you're finally ready for one of the best-kept secrets throughout the land. The making of arrows from things you find along the way... branches from trees, stones in dungeons... all can be used to make arrows to slay your foes. Just grab an arrow to study, and in no time, you can make another just like it. Sometimes, that's the only source of income an older warrior may have. That, and training the misbegotten offspring of drunken elven tailors and haircutters. Arr... some days they make me want to send the whole lot of 'em to the bottom of Erathsmedor's belly, just to see if he could even stomach 'em."

"I met Erathsmedor earlier," volunteered Missy. "'Twas quite... interesting..."

"Ya did? And you're still here? Without protection of the gods, you ought to be comin' back on a barbecue spit!"

"Well, we didn't exactly meet officially," she said. "I sort of ran under him as I burst from the trees. And I high-tailed it before he saw me."

"Har!" laughed the guildmaster. "Well, that's certainly one way to do it! And no one who knows anything would fault you. Dragons is tough meat, no matter how you look at it."

"Aye," said Missy, "but now I've got to run. Freyedies promised me some dragon armor if I can find some dragon ore, so I've got to go looking through the mines for it."

"Good hunting," replied the guildmaster. "Say, you might consider studying the samurai's craft at the bushi dojo. They've got some tricks you can learn."

Missy stopped at the dojo and grinned when she realized the guildmaster only wanted the baton she'd found earlier. She handed it to him, and began her studies of the master swordswomed. Not that she was a slouch herself...

Wandering through the Gael Serran, she picked up experience quickly and trained frequently at the guilds. Soon, she headed back to the Stout Mines, where Freyedies repeated his offer to make her a suit of armor. She headed to the mine shaft area, to where she'd fixed the trolley car on her previous visit, jumped on board, and started to ride.

As she flew down, she noticed some observation windows where the tracks forked. Making a mental note to check them out later, she hopped off the trolley car and began searching.

With a pickaxe she'd picked up, she searched through ore piles, finding the occasional gem of little or no value. Then she spied a piece of silvery metal in one of the lodes and pocketed it, certain that it might be the dragon ore. She continued searching, and came across a fire-breathing dog. That dragon armor was sounding better by the minute, for sure... She did notice that she could withstand the heat. Perhaps she was getting used to it, or perhaps Jathil's mind tricks continued to bear fruit. Or perhaps the fire charms she'd invoked at the wizard's guild were actually working. You never knew with wizards...

She came acros a second piece of silvery ore, guarded by another dog, a mother to the fire-breathing beast she'd slain earlier. "More's the pity," she muttered. "I'd like to have one of those at home for when the company stays too long...".

She headed back up to Freyedies to give him the ore. Excited, he began bashing it with Kraokendon immediately, forgetting she was there. "Come back later," he said. "It takes a while."

She headed back to the trolleys, musing over the devotion the dwarves showed to their one-eyed king. Was it really something they felt, or were they biding their time, afraid to confront him and the dreaded hammer? One thing's for certain -- none of them wanted to talk about it.

She ran behind the trolley as she sent it on its way, hoping to inspect the observation area for clues. She saw a switch that seemed to control the tracks; curious, she reached carefully through the barred windows with her sword to touch the switch. A sudden *CLANK* made her drop her precious sword, and it fell, point first, into the rock floor. "Another repair job," she muttered. "Taking care of a good weapon like a rookie." Grumbling, she used the string from her bow to fashion a loop and retrieve her itinerant sword.

Putting her gear back, she headed up to the trolley area to recall the trolley. Climbing on, she went down to another cave area, this one hiding a small body of water. Apparently, the stouts occasionally misread the rock and opened shafts into lakes. Aside from a giant sea-crab, there was little of interest, so she ran back and flipped the points on the tracks again.

This time, she ran back to change the points on the second fork in the tracks, and on returning, she found herself face-to-face with the rat Scanthril wanted killed. Not giving anything away, she listened to him rant about working for years with nothing to show for it. She looked at the lift he'd created and rode it up, looking for easy booty.

She found herself in a small room with a door that wouldn't open. Frustrated, she pulled out her sword, only to see a small reflection on the wall. Closer examination revealed a lever that opened the stubborn door. Curious, she entered... and found six chests, all heavy.

She debated the merits of stealing from the dwarf who was trying to save her life, but realized that she didn't know if the armor would truly work or not, and the only way to find out was to put it to the test. Saying a silent prayer, she betrayed her benefactor and earned the trust of Rathskalion.

As she descended the list, she realized that she really needed to take care of Scanthril. She asked Rathskalion about the Hidden Circle and the Black Hand, and eventually challenged him to combat. She betrayed the trust she had so recently gained, and wondered if it was really worth it as she slung her sword across and back, inflicting damage on his strong arms. He tried to defend with a pickaxe; alas, it just didn't work...

He died, but not before cursing her and her lineage. Some things would never change... that's what had gotten her into this mess to begin with.

She headed back up to meet Freyedies, collect her dragon armor and head back to town. She toyed with the idea of letting Scanthril know all his quests were completed, but she really wanted to make him pay. No quick and easy death for him... a slow painful one, like she'd watched him inflict on her father as she hid beneath the counter. Her father's teachings had paid off, and soon Scanthril was going to get his due...

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Enjoy.

*B*
Minister, etc. (ret.)
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