Long Lost Friends - Not Rapunzel?
When last we left our heroes, Knives and Cronosaj were "on the run" after Knives had "allegedly" embezzled funds from the City of Hamelin while serving as interim Mayor following the scandal involving the Pied Piper. The two adventurers had managed to evade their pursuers and taken shelter in a seemingly-abandoned tower in the Great and Awful Forest. On the second floor, they discovered a pair of prisoners and were attacked by a decrepit and withered hag....
12 Feb 1371 (1828 Grimmlands calendar)
As the woman staggers forward, Chronosaj pulls both of his scimitars from the two sheathes at his hips. Fog rolls off of one and settles toward the ground as the icy blade is exposed to the warm nighttime air while the other crackles and sparks with the power of chained electricity. He raises both, ready to swat away any questing tendrils that reach for him or Knives.
Knives turns to face the woman as she staggers into the room, he puffs out his cheeks, seeking to exhale the final burst of fire breath he has remaining. The cone of flames pours forth and the strands of hair move with blinding speed, forming a shield that takes the brunt of the blast. Much of the hair is burned away, leaving only a pair of tentacles for the two adventurers to contend with. Chronosaj works his blades up and down, swatting the questing strands away while Knives drops into a roll that carries him clear of the threat.
As the acrobat comes to his feet, he draws his rapier, Strife, and Last Resort, the dagger gifted to him by Raven months ago. The former mayor darts forward, jinking left and then right as he closes in one the emaciated woman. Both of his blades punch through moth-eaten fabric and papery flesh and out through her back with the same ease they cut through air. The woman’s face registers no pain, gives no indication that she even felt the attack but spiders begin pouring out of the two wounds, swarming up the sword and dagger and onto Knives’ arms.
Chronosaj makes no effort to close in on the woman, instead focusing on the tentacle-like strands of hair. Despite having the tensile strength of a ship’s mooring lines, the gunslinger’s blades shear through a pair of thick blond tendrils which fall writhing to the floor.
What hair remains reaches out, lashing around Knives’ wrist to pull him in close. The thief lets his legs go loose and he drops, trying to slip free of the hair’s grasp but is hauled upwards and toward the woman’s shriveled face. She leans in and kisses the ex-mayor, her dry lips grating on his before parting to disgorge a torrent of eight-legged attackers all over his face.
As the spiders pour out of the woman's mouth and onto Knives, he reverses his grip on his dagger. The former Mayor of Hamelin rakes the enchanted blade across the steely blond locks. Some of the strands part and he pulls backwards, straining against the tendril and slashes again. The remaining hair splits and the acrobat rolls away, spitting arachnids out of his mouth and wiping his face with his swordarm.
Chronosaj rushes in, his blades crackling with the power of frost and lightning. The energy-imbued blades shred parchment-thin flesh, freezing what desiccated organs remain and causing the body to jerk spasmodically. A chorus of a thousand shrieks erupt from within the animate corpse as spiders are exploded by the coruscating electricity, popping and sizzling inside of their hairy carapaces.
The charred body falls, bursting open on impact with the floor. The surviving spiders scatter, racing toward the shadows at the edges of the room. The hands reappear at the cell window, clutching the bars, “She's down! Get us out of here, please!”
The two adventurers finally get a good look at the man inside the cell, He is tall with broad shoulders, smooth white skin, brown eyes and shaggy blond hair. A gray, fur-lined jacket worn over a knitted blue sweater both show signs of heavy wear and his beard is unkempt and bushy.
The other cell is occupied by a young woman with blue eyes, light skin and freckles with auburn hair what has a white streak running down the right side. She wears a dark blue dress, light blue shirt with an embroidered vest and a heavy magenta cloak. “Yes! Please, release us!”
As the smoke from the burning body begins to roil against the ceiling, the tower shudders and the sound of stone grinding against stone fills the air, almost as if in pain.
12 Feb 1371 (1828 Grimmlands calendar)
As the woman staggers forward, Chronosaj pulls both of his scimitars from the two sheathes at his hips. Fog rolls off of one and settles toward the ground as the icy blade is exposed to the warm nighttime air while the other crackles and sparks with the power of chained electricity. He raises both, ready to swat away any questing tendrils that reach for him or Knives.
Knives turns to face the woman as she staggers into the room, he puffs out his cheeks, seeking to exhale the final burst of fire breath he has remaining. The cone of flames pours forth and the strands of hair move with blinding speed, forming a shield that takes the brunt of the blast. Much of the hair is burned away, leaving only a pair of tentacles for the two adventurers to contend with. Chronosaj works his blades up and down, swatting the questing strands away while Knives drops into a roll that carries him clear of the threat.
As the acrobat comes to his feet, he draws his rapier, Strife, and Last Resort, the dagger gifted to him by Raven months ago. The former mayor darts forward, jinking left and then right as he closes in one the emaciated woman. Both of his blades punch through moth-eaten fabric and papery flesh and out through her back with the same ease they cut through air. The woman’s face registers no pain, gives no indication that she even felt the attack but spiders begin pouring out of the two wounds, swarming up the sword and dagger and onto Knives’ arms.
Chronosaj makes no effort to close in on the woman, instead focusing on the tentacle-like strands of hair. Despite having the tensile strength of a ship’s mooring lines, the gunslinger’s blades shear through a pair of thick blond tendrils which fall writhing to the floor.
What hair remains reaches out, lashing around Knives’ wrist to pull him in close. The thief lets his legs go loose and he drops, trying to slip free of the hair’s grasp but is hauled upwards and toward the woman’s shriveled face. She leans in and kisses the ex-mayor, her dry lips grating on his before parting to disgorge a torrent of eight-legged attackers all over his face.
As the spiders pour out of the woman's mouth and onto Knives, he reverses his grip on his dagger. The former Mayor of Hamelin rakes the enchanted blade across the steely blond locks. Some of the strands part and he pulls backwards, straining against the tendril and slashes again. The remaining hair splits and the acrobat rolls away, spitting arachnids out of his mouth and wiping his face with his swordarm.
Chronosaj rushes in, his blades crackling with the power of frost and lightning. The energy-imbued blades shred parchment-thin flesh, freezing what desiccated organs remain and causing the body to jerk spasmodically. A chorus of a thousand shrieks erupt from within the animate corpse as spiders are exploded by the coruscating electricity, popping and sizzling inside of their hairy carapaces.
The charred body falls, bursting open on impact with the floor. The surviving spiders scatter, racing toward the shadows at the edges of the room. The hands reappear at the cell window, clutching the bars, “She's down! Get us out of here, please!”
The two adventurers finally get a good look at the man inside the cell, He is tall with broad shoulders, smooth white skin, brown eyes and shaggy blond hair. A gray, fur-lined jacket worn over a knitted blue sweater both show signs of heavy wear and his beard is unkempt and bushy.
The other cell is occupied by a young woman with blue eyes, light skin and freckles with auburn hair what has a white streak running down the right side. She wears a dark blue dress, light blue shirt with an embroidered vest and a heavy magenta cloak. “Yes! Please, release us!”
As the smoke from the burning body begins to roil against the ceiling, the tower shudders and the sound of stone grinding against stone fills the air, almost as if in pain.
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