The last bit of powdered amber sparkled in the moonlight with a magical glow, then faded into the page of the text, near invisible. His spell complete, Xareen closed the cover of the book. On its spine was inscribed the words Tentacle's Grasp. The magic trap was put in place because Xareen and his brother were to meet with two other adventurers - adventurers they didn't know - and adventurers they didn't know were not to be trusted. No one was.
Ruby let out a whine and a low yelp, sniffing the air and cuddling up next to the Moredhrel wizard's robes. Xareen answered in kind to the small red fox, in a language understood by no one other than master and familiar. From a nearby log, Killian sharpened his swords with a whetstone, waiting, left to wonder what conversation his brother and his pet were sharing. The Sionnodel twins had been waiting, both waiting, for what seemed like an eternity, as if the The Last World of Varda was spun by some elder snail that moved slower than time itself.
Xareen gazed at the lone star in the night sky. He and Killian had traveled the plains for weeks, and little words had been spoken between them. There was little need. They were twins. One look from one to the other spoke volumes, and for many years it was if they shared one mind.
This night, however, as they waited for the others to arrive, Xareen suddenly broke the silence - gaze still fixed on the lone star - in a wistful, almost sensitive tone, very much unlike Xareen's typical demeanor.
"Brother, do you think father is still alive?"
Last edited by Bong Bellowsmoke; 05-29-2012 at 07:18 PM.
The Red Condor shrieked at Sir Darvig in full wrath. Wings flapped storms of fire across the sky. "The Mage-God grows in power swifter than it appears to Paladine. This I know. A warning," Sargonnas told Darvigl, "for you to give to Paladine in your prayers."
“I will,” Darvig uttered.