As you read this part you may be getting a feel that, well, things are different in Book II, especially now. Darker, and without hope. What can I say? Did not the Xavier prophesy foretell this already? Should be no surprise... :P The prophesy said that the Xavier Team would be tried in the fire... And I think that's what's happening now--albeit in a much colder fashion than a fire.
Part XLVII: Scattering Wind
Date: Yippah 11th, 114 A.U.
Iron chains held him to the wall where he slumped, helpless and hopeless. Wifts of spirit and glimmers of the woman passed by him, a woman holding a cup of water, a woman with compassion in her eyes. A woman who didn’t hate him. One who promised to work with her position in the Triumvirate to regain him his freedom. One who brought him books. One who helped him.
All in one motion torn away and put in the face of a maniacal foe who wished death and destruction for all races. An elf so twisted and corrupted that he would wrack his vengeance on his previous companion in the Xavier Team because she would not allow him to gain power. One whom Reynyagn had thought dead before he had seen her face as the Governor of Araelia. One who had too soon be torn away as Reynyagn had to accept his own destiny as one of the new Xavier Team.
A destiny which seemed all too sure to have a speedy ending.
A cold wind whipped the snow into Reynyagn’s face as he contemplated what was underneath him for several minutes as his brain awoke. The cold penetrated his senses and warned Reynyagn of the coming danger. Sla’ad were much more vulnerable to the extremes than normal beings. Their ability of being unable to be hurt by most physical material came at an extreme price—their vulnerability to the elements.
Reynyagn stood up, rubbing his fur coat as he looked around. The last thing he remembered was stumbling off the cliff after being attacked by that orc. Now he found himself in the middle of a deep gorge with long cliffs around either side and a wind blowing into him. He would have to get moving—fast—before his body froze. Because once that happened, there was no going back.
Reynyagn quickly moved, trying to run through the snow as he looked for shelter. Reynyagn’s run was a weak run. His joints already were stiffening. He should still be able to survive a couple hours, but… The distance he was able to cover each hour would dramatically diminish as his body continued to freeze up.
Rule Number 43: At any opportunity, use your enemies to benefit your cause.
Number 994 stared at Monty’s limp body nearby as he looked back up at the great distance that the avalanche had carried them. They had gone far and deep. And his ruse had kept him alive. His companions were gone—either dead or captured. And that suited Number 994 just fine.
Number 994 slowly nudged Monty’s body. Monty groaned and rolled to the side. Number 994 was slightly irked. As much as he didn’t care for the human, Number 994 knew that it wouldn’t be wise to be in an icy wilderness such as this and be alone. Besides—their companions were gone. He could always take out Monty. And Monty knew nothing of his true allegiances.
“Get up,” Number 994 said, nudging Monty some more. He wondered if Monty was dead. Bending down, Number 994 pushed Monty’s hood back, opening Monty’s face to the cold air. Number 994 wondered why Monty’s face was blue. Number 994 hesitantly poked Monty’s face, wondering if it was a dye. It wasn’t. Number 994 wondered why and how humans were able to change their skin color.
Number 994 had finished searching Monty’s pockets and pilfering all of the useful weapons that Monty had when Monty began to move. Number 994 stepped back, hiding his stolen items in his coat. Number 994 hadn’t thought he needed the coat—not like electric-orcs like him minded the cold—but then again, the coat was a pretty good place to hide stolen materials.
“Uhhhh…” Monty said. “What… what…?”
“We’re down here in gorge,” Number 994 said. “An avalanche carried us down.”
Monty looked around. “But what… what attacked us—where is Astrid?”
“Renegade orcs attacked us,” Number 994 said. “I tried to defeat them but got carried away in avalanche. Your sister was knocked out. I don’t know where she is.”
“We have to find her,” Monty said quickly, struggling to stand up. Number 994 put his hand out to help him up.
“We will leave the gorge,” Number 994 said, bobbing his head as if in agreement. If Monty was too intent on rescuing his sister, he could always kill him off if he proved to be more of a hindrance than an aid. It would be what the Garum would want him to do. Number 994 turned back to Monty, who was strangely fidgeting and bobbing and shaking uncontrollably.
“Why the shaking?” he asked, gesturing toward Monty.
“It’s called shivering,” Monty said. “It’s what we do when we’re cold. Don’t you shiver?”
“Only the weaker fire-orcs hate cold,” Number 994 said. “Our race born and raised here. I no suffer cold.”
“Wish I could say the same for me…” Monty said, continuing to shake in a shiver. “Do you think we can find shelter to build a fire?”
“We can find shelter,” Number 994 said, seeing the importance of finding a base to stop at to consider their options. “You can build fire if you have ability so that you can stop shaking in a shiver.”
“Good,” Monty said, trudging forward. “Tell me when you see one.”
“Aye,” Number 994 said, taking up the rear. “We will look for a shelter.”
Question of the Day:Give me one of the ninety nine orc rules to follow... The best one gets points...
Part XLVII: Scattering Wind
Date: Yippah 11th, 114 A.U.
Iron chains held him to the wall where he slumped, helpless and hopeless. Wifts of spirit and glimmers of the woman passed by him, a woman holding a cup of water, a woman with compassion in her eyes. A woman who didn’t hate him. One who promised to work with her position in the Triumvirate to regain him his freedom. One who brought him books. One who helped him.
All in one motion torn away and put in the face of a maniacal foe who wished death and destruction for all races. An elf so twisted and corrupted that he would wrack his vengeance on his previous companion in the Xavier Team because she would not allow him to gain power. One whom Reynyagn had thought dead before he had seen her face as the Governor of Araelia. One who had too soon be torn away as Reynyagn had to accept his own destiny as one of the new Xavier Team.
A destiny which seemed all too sure to have a speedy ending.
A cold wind whipped the snow into Reynyagn’s face as he contemplated what was underneath him for several minutes as his brain awoke. The cold penetrated his senses and warned Reynyagn of the coming danger. Sla’ad were much more vulnerable to the extremes than normal beings. Their ability of being unable to be hurt by most physical material came at an extreme price—their vulnerability to the elements.
Reynyagn stood up, rubbing his fur coat as he looked around. The last thing he remembered was stumbling off the cliff after being attacked by that orc. Now he found himself in the middle of a deep gorge with long cliffs around either side and a wind blowing into him. He would have to get moving—fast—before his body froze. Because once that happened, there was no going back.
Reynyagn quickly moved, trying to run through the snow as he looked for shelter. Reynyagn’s run was a weak run. His joints already were stiffening. He should still be able to survive a couple hours, but… The distance he was able to cover each hour would dramatically diminish as his body continued to freeze up.
Rule Number 43: At any opportunity, use your enemies to benefit your cause.
Number 994 stared at Monty’s limp body nearby as he looked back up at the great distance that the avalanche had carried them. They had gone far and deep. And his ruse had kept him alive. His companions were gone—either dead or captured. And that suited Number 994 just fine.
Number 994 slowly nudged Monty’s body. Monty groaned and rolled to the side. Number 994 was slightly irked. As much as he didn’t care for the human, Number 994 knew that it wouldn’t be wise to be in an icy wilderness such as this and be alone. Besides—their companions were gone. He could always take out Monty. And Monty knew nothing of his true allegiances.
“Get up,” Number 994 said, nudging Monty some more. He wondered if Monty was dead. Bending down, Number 994 pushed Monty’s hood back, opening Monty’s face to the cold air. Number 994 wondered why Monty’s face was blue. Number 994 hesitantly poked Monty’s face, wondering if it was a dye. It wasn’t. Number 994 wondered why and how humans were able to change their skin color.
Number 994 had finished searching Monty’s pockets and pilfering all of the useful weapons that Monty had when Monty began to move. Number 994 stepped back, hiding his stolen items in his coat. Number 994 hadn’t thought he needed the coat—not like electric-orcs like him minded the cold—but then again, the coat was a pretty good place to hide stolen materials.
“Uhhhh…” Monty said. “What… what…?”
“We’re down here in gorge,” Number 994 said. “An avalanche carried us down.”
Monty looked around. “But what… what attacked us—where is Astrid?”
“Renegade orcs attacked us,” Number 994 said. “I tried to defeat them but got carried away in avalanche. Your sister was knocked out. I don’t know where she is.”
“We have to find her,” Monty said quickly, struggling to stand up. Number 994 put his hand out to help him up.
“We will leave the gorge,” Number 994 said, bobbing his head as if in agreement. If Monty was too intent on rescuing his sister, he could always kill him off if he proved to be more of a hindrance than an aid. It would be what the Garum would want him to do. Number 994 turned back to Monty, who was strangely fidgeting and bobbing and shaking uncontrollably.
“Why the shaking?” he asked, gesturing toward Monty.
“It’s called shivering,” Monty said. “It’s what we do when we’re cold. Don’t you shiver?”
“Only the weaker fire-orcs hate cold,” Number 994 said. “Our race born and raised here. I no suffer cold.”
“Wish I could say the same for me…” Monty said, continuing to shake in a shiver. “Do you think we can find shelter to build a fire?”
“We can find shelter,” Number 994 said, seeing the importance of finding a base to stop at to consider their options. “You can build fire if you have ability so that you can stop shaking in a shiver.”
“Good,” Monty said, trudging forward. “Tell me when you see one.”
“Aye,” Number 994 said, taking up the rear. “We will look for a shelter.”
Question of the Day:Give me one of the ninety nine orc rules to follow... The best one gets points...
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