Legends of Belariath
Christolf
Level 15 Quest
The catman began his day as normal, wandering through the woods, searching for solace and peace. This was a new section of the woods for him to be exploring, and, well, he seemed more than a little inquisitive. Little did he know something else had drawn him here...and that something was his calling.
Upon coming to the water, there was a strange smell in the air...like that of death incarnate. The catman reached down to get a drink of water, thinking something was seriously wrong, and as his finger touched it, he felt a shiver run over his body...and that meant trouble. Quickly the catman pulled out a bottle, having been used long ago for a healing potion given when he was but a learner...and he tested the waters. Nothing came up, but deep down inside, he knew something was very wrong. Along the river he began to walk, upstream, trying to find the source of the taint.
The damage further upstream was worse, as he had expected. Plants everywhere, and not just near the water's edge, were dying...a sight that broke the Hierophant's heart. Senseless killings these were, and, he was going to make someone pay. Here the path split...he could go into a valley, where it seemed the devastation was worse, or, off to the west, a series of caves waited...a larger one, and a smaller one. He decided that hiding places would be at a premium, so the caves would be his best bet.
He moved quickly over the ground, his footfalls barely making a sound as he came to the smaller cave first. He examined inside there, trying to figure out any clues as to what was harming the woods...and found a think substance, which was pitting metal, and eating through the wooden barrels he found. The catman decided from the stench that this had to be the culprit, and he had to find who was making it. The second, larger cave beckoned him...and, he decided to answer it's call.
Moving through the cave seemed easy at first, until the inky blackness began swallowing him and light alike. He had had bad luck in the past with his movement through caves, so for the first ways, he stumbled through the darkness. A torch he passed up, unlit, because he feared the foul stench that radiated from the cave would be combustible. He felt a cold presence surrounding him...and he decided to risk a little light. Whispering the words he knew all to well, he allowed light to spill from his hand...and, he found his hunch had proven to be right...what he felt was the opening of a chasm beneath his feet. Not one to take chances, he immediately began floating across the walk, his magical flight aided by his light. Finally, he came to a safe footing, and he landed. His light was no longer needed, so he dispelled it.
Two torches illuminated the way now, and the catman saw three paths...right, middle, and left. The barrel tracks he had seen from this point were more distinct...more used. He thought for a moment, and decided on trying the center passage first. Inside, he found darkness...but he heard sounds...louder than before. He also found a dead-end...and that surprised him a little. He moved to the back wall, and began feeling along it...trying to figure out if there was a trap, or a trigger that would open a door...well, he found a door, hidden in the rock, but no way to open it. Finally, defeated, he left this room, and started for the right passage.
Inside the right passage he found a few barrels, and something most odd...one of the larger barrels was filled with sand, and also contained a shovel...'Odd', thought the catman, but he let it go. Some of the other barrels were filled with that same foul-smelling substance, the stuff the catman had determined had caused the death of the woods nearby. Checking the walls for triggers, or levers, proved fruitless, so he was stuck in the same predicament. Back to the central passage he went, and this time, he tried the third way...the left.
The left passage was a little different than the two others...what dominated the landscape was a large set of scales...along with a alchemist's bench, and several buckets of the foulest-smelling stuff imaginable. The catman nearly passed out there, but, he was able to control himself. He tapped himself on the nose as he thought, looking around at the various items here...and came up with something. He stepped into a basket hanging from the scales...and, he heard something open. A door from the top of the scales. The catman smiled in triumph, and decided now was the moment. He reached for a bucket of the foul-smelling substance, and set it on the sling/basket...and, well, that's when hell broke loose. The bucket tipped, and spilled it's contents out...eating through rope and metal alike, and utterly destroying the scales. A door he heard open, and he assumed it was the one in the middle...but, he heard footsteps as well. Grabbing a random vial of chemical, he snuck along the wall, trying to get the drop on the person who had emerged.
The aura he felt from the man was one that was familiar to him...yet subtly different...the aura of death. The catman thought for a moment he had come upon Shaka, and was prepaired to die this day. However, the voice the man spoke with was not that of the person he thought it was...much to his relief.
'Who...dares to disrupt my work!'
The catman gathered himself, and in his loudest voice, responded...
'A servant of Gaea does.'
Christolf hid the vial behind his back, as he stepped into the light, revealing himself and continuing...
'And, what you have done is foul and evil in her eyes...I ask you once...stop, or I will be forced to make you.'
The Necromancer seemed to rally his dark arts around him, trying to drive the catman away with the sheer force of his will, and the spell of fear he had surrounding him...
'Stop eh ..why would I stop making my Gaea's blood? What better to name the poison I shall drown the lands in.'
Those words steeled the catman's resolve, and allowed him to break the spell of fear the Necromancer had placed upon himself...and, steeled his resolve. He spoke in that commanding voice again, as if all of nature was behind him...
'Then...I suppose that I will have to stop you now...before you destroy more of my forest. Gaea has condemned you for your crimes...and, the penality is nothing less than...death.'
With that spoken, the catman threw out the vial from behind his back, and, with perfect aim, it struck the man in the chest...Christolf rolled to the right, bringing his defenses to the fore. The Necromancer just laughed as the green smoke enveloped him...
'Helping me are you ..? here, let me show you how real mage does it ..'
The Necromancer began belchng out the same substance, but due to the vial's smoke, he was blinded, and the attack went awry. Christolf's follow-up didn't however, as he pushed his palm forward, and the energy he could channel flew out, striking the man in the chest. The Necromancer howled in pain, but had a bearing on the catman now...and, his attack was that of flame...Christolf's most-hated element. The catman was prepared to move, and as a result, was only burned slightly, his right arm catching a wave of the spell. As he rolled this time, however, he came close to the edge of the chasm. Reaching into his satchel, he removed one of his precious herbs. Infusing it with the power of Gaea, he threw the plant at the man, and struck him in the chest. The Necromancer howled once again, black blood spilling from his wounds. His voice was heard over the sounds of the fighting...
'You are too late! Too late to stop me. My plans are already in action, my partner will not fail me...this land will die...'
More fire spilled from the Necromancer's fingertips, and the catman had no where to go...his robe and magical defenses took most of the blow, but his body did as well, sending him tumbling to the edge of the chasm. On his back he was, looking up towards the Necromancer. The strength of Gaea still infused his bones, and he had a plan...he played opossum for a few moments more, as his hand inched along towards his sword...seeming long-forgotten. The Necromancer caught this movement, and spoke again...
'Is the little kitten man gonna hurt me with his sword...I don't even have a weapon...isn't that against your laws ..your code of honor...?'
The Necromancer kicked up a cloud of dust, mocking the Hierophant...at that moment, he lunged to his feet, the blade hissing free of the scabbard. It swung in one fluid movement at the Necromancer, who seemed to make no move to dodge it...but, at the last second, the catman changed it's trajectory, missing him completely. His left hand, however, did not miss, hitting the Necromancer in the temple, and knocking him out cold. It was then that the Necromancer's spell became evident, as Christolf felt the inky blackness of unconsciousness begin to creep into his vision...but, he thought quickly, and was able to very it with a quick healing spell of his own. Kneeling, burned and hurting, the catman had been victorious. He had a task ahead of him...destroying the lab, bringing the Necromancer to justice, but that was another story for another time.