Author: keno
Date:Sep 9 2003
Khargoth crept quietly through the darkened hallway. His footsteps, silent
and overshadowed by the sound of a cricket chirping in the night. Counting
paces he came upon the door through which contained the storage chambers for
the baron he had come to tax. Upon reflection he hadn't thought about the fact
that his into the stronghold had gone a bit too smoothly.
After allowing the door to close slowly behind him, cringing at the squeal
the rusty hinges emitted the human slipped on a ring endowed with the gift of
elvish sight. As the cold platinum band passed the knuckle of his finger the
room took on a red tint. The outline of six chests became apparent as their
outlines were enlightened by the darker magenta hue of the cold stone walls.
The darkened figure made his way around the room. According to the
accountant he had drugged with the dust of fairies tongue, a handy powder he
had picked up from the satyrs or Babel isle, there are two chests full of
magical artifacts the baron has acquired through enslavement of anyone caught
traveling through his lands without permission. The problem was the wards of
protection the local sorcerer had placed upon the chests.
Khargoth had found out there was a glitch in the enchantment of these
chests. If either one of them was opened without saying the proper word it
would trigger a magical alarm and entrap the would be thief with a web of
magic strands. But as the baron of the keep had been too cheep to pay the
sorcerer his quoted price, he had left the final weave of the spell
unfinished. Khargoth had discovered that by opening both chests at the exact
same moment, he would have an additional ten count before the alarm was
sounded. Normally this would be useless since trying to remove any items from
the chest would trigger the spell, entrapping the unfortunate footpad until
the guards could arrive and take them into custody. But this was not a man
without a plan.
The guards had been on watch since the moon crested the battlements. three
of them had spent the last hour playing at dice. Too involved in their game,
they had failed to notice the dark form slip over the wall and into the musty
keep. It came as a supprise when the magical flares the Baron's Spellmaster
had placed to alert them of an intrusion came ablaze coating the inside of the
walls with a green tint.
"Alarm alarm!" cried the captain of the guards, lamps throughout the castle
were unshaded instantly washing the hallways in light. A group of men still in
their bedshorts burst into the treasury swords unsheathed only to find a
particular sight awaiting their eyes. suspended in the air held in place by
blue strands of magic was the evil baron his mouth gagged and a wild look in
his eyes.
Before entering the treasury Khargoth had slipped into the barons room.
Using a potion of sleep he poured a small amount into the sleeping mans mouth
ensuring his cooperation for the next thirty minutes. He gagged the sleeping
man, and placed a blanket of teleportation over him and set the delay. The
blanket was set to teleport the person it enclosed to a location marked by
drops of a cyan dragons blood.
Entering the treasury Khargoth had opened a flask tied to his belt and
poured the dragon blood on the ground between the chests. standing behind them
he opened them both nine seconds before the blanket transported the baron into
the room. With a sharp hiss magical strands burst from the chests wrapping
around the baron and raising him off the ground. Khargoth quickly filled his
pack with the magical devices and stood behind the door waiting for the guards
to enter the room.
As the guards struggled to free the magical bonds holding their lord
khargoth slipped out the door behind them running towards the exit of the keep
with long controlled strides. Catching a flash out of the corner of his eye
he rolled just in time to avoid being decapitated by a large guard's slashing
claymore. three daggers speed from his belt embedding themselves in the
stomach, throat, and eye of the attacking guard. a low groin bubbled from the
mortally wounded man as he fell to the stone floor. Losing two more daggers he
was able to clear the front gate of the remaining watchmen and he burst out
over the drawbridge running in swerving lines to avoid the arrows which had
come screaming from the archers atop the walls towards his retreating form.
Making his way through the darkness he came across a river with a small
rowboat hidden under some bushes he had secured for this nights operation.
Pushing out from the shore he lie down in the boat as it was gripped by the
currents speeding it downstream in the night. Opening his pack he sorts
through his newly acquired riches, smiling he thinks to himself this is the
life.
THE END