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Stories of a Cleric | Korba the Faithful
Stories of a Cleric
A small bound book scuffed and stained from many adventures.
Friday, 09 September 2005
Under the Wall

The four adventures lined up in the desert, the sun hot on their faces as the gigantic wall loomed above them all. The Cleric looked over the party, two warriors and an enchanter made up the company. Too weak to venture into the wall alone, together they would combine there abilities to get to the legendary golden age machine. Set at their feet was a sack containing glowing crystals wrestled for the hands of various guardians slain across Valorn, carefully horded until they could venture to the machine.

As the Cleric had expected the young enchanter ran ahead ignoring the dangers she faced, the two warriors ran after her, despite her youth she had quickly captured their hearts with her courage, wit and charm and no one wanted her hurt by this adventure.

Following more slowly the Cleric took one last look at the sky before ducking his head and plunging into the deep darkness. He was the only one in the group who was safe here, the monster hid from him and would no longer attack. The Cleric had volunteered to aid their quest as a healer although it would be a long hard fight for the others without his blade.

Catching them up in the corridor the Cleric stood back unable to help as the first Wall Zombie lumbered slowly towards the others ahead, unable to inflict much damage against two powerful blades and the enchantress's staff the Zombie presented a slow target that was no match for their enthusiastic hacking. The cleric was pleased, he had not expected the zombie to fall so easily, with a healing touch on each adventurer they advanced deeper into the passageway.

They were attacked again at the top of a winding staircase that led to a service passageway, this Zombie was more experienced than the others, parrying the enchantress's staff he thrust out knocking the little enchanter to the floor. Concerned but unable to help the Cleric had to watch the two warriors bravely fight together. The burley male warrior withdrew a sandburster claw, with a crack acid sprayed over the zombie, with a bellow of pain the Zombie pressed a furious onslaught against the female warrior. Under a rain of biting blows the Cleric locked in horror as the acid burned creature caught the female warrior across the arm with a blow that exposed the white of bone. Making a final desperate effort she ran further back along the corridor and collapsed. The Cleric rushed to her aid before more Zombies were alerted to her helpless form. Bending over her the Cleric focused the power of his Golden ring stemming the copious blood flow, laying both hands on her wounded arm he began to pray.

Color returned to the young warrior as the flesh on her arm knitted, returning to consciousness the Cleric helped her to her feet. Realizing that time has passed and the male warrior had been left to deal with the Zombie alone they hurried down into the wall passageway. Despite the situation the Cleric had to smile, the young enchantress was sitting up looking uncomfortable but mercifully alive while the warrior was covered in Zombie gore and has dark green acid all over his amour. The acid must have burned terribly but the heat of battle was still with the warrior as he stood triumphant over the slain Zombie corpse. The clerics healing touch restored the enchantress to her feet and with the help of a rag returned the Warriors dignity.

Gathering together they all peered down the staircase ahead, their path lay down deeper under the wall. It would get tougher yet for the group. Again the enchantress led the way, her pluck unaffected by her lucky escape, the two warriors followed with the Cleric bring up the party.

Arriving at the bottom the Cleric was surprised not to find a battle raging, instead the others were clustered in a group in the middle of a room that appeared to have once been a kitchen. A foul breeze wafted from the south only made bearable by a fresh draft descending down a chimney from the kitchen fireplace. The cleric focused his attention in the direction of the stench certain attack would come from that direction. Instead the tread of heavy footsteps descended the staircase alerted by the commotion upstairs a Zombie as large as the previous came into view. There lesson learnt from their previous opponent the fighters advanced more cautiously this time. The male warrior burst another sandbursterclaw to weaken the enemy while the Cleric focused on his Holy ring, a piercing light radiated, the Holy light and acid had done its job, the Zombie fell soon after, however the Cleric had noticed a Zombie advancing from the south and more noises upstairs warned there were more heading their way, grouping together quickly the Cleric healed the young enchantress as best he could and turned to the female warrior, A cry of anguish alerted the Cleric too late, the Zombie from the south had advanced to quickly and was fighting furiously with the already wounded male warrior, only partially healed the female warrior ran to the aid of her companion. The Cleric knew the group was in great danger, a rush of darkness swept over the Clerics shoulder racing for the young enchantress, already weakened she swung around and bravely faced the enemy, holder her staff aloft lightening lanced out slowing the shadow scourge but it still slammed into her, a deadly blow the cleric knew he could do nothing about.

Else where the Zombie had the upper hand against the two warriors, footsteps descending the stairway meant retreat was impossible, despair filled the Cleric, the group was falling apart and he was powerless to help. With a grunt of triumph the zombie managed to thrust his sword deep into the male warrior chest, with a load groan he collapsed on the floor, another beyond help, as reinforcements arrived zombies surrounded the loan female warrior. Unable to face the pain of watching another of his party fall the Cleric fled back to the desert. The adventure though a brave gesture had been doomed to failure, the Cleric realized strength and skill in arms alone was not enough to protect his friends in Valorn.
Korba posted @ 03:43 - Link - comments
Monday, 05 September 2005

The Cleric bellowed with a mixture of rage and frustration, he leapt onto a large boulder and sprung down again surprisingly light footed in heavy chainmail shoes. The Clerics cloak billowed behind him as he dashed between another set of large boulders that had fallen from the cliffs above. Diving around a stumpy weathered tree just in time to see the red glow he had be chasing slip away further up the mountain pass unreachable. Sighing with frustration and exhaustion the Cleric slumped down on the tufty grass with his back against a gnarled tree to compose himself.

Refreshed from his pilgrimage the Cleric had visited Branishor and had a set of plate leggings made up. The training to use these had been hard but that had added to his sense of accomplishment. The Cleric ad expected to return to the western mountains and resume his hunt just as before, however this was not the case. Many marcs have passed without success for the Cleric, the distant clatter of hoofs seemed to taunt the Cleric, he could not even hunt these creatures now for the plentiful gold they provided.

The Cleric sat and fiddled with his sword, although Radient Slayer was close to his heart the Cleric had hoped to soon have enough weapon primitives for his ultimate weapon. It seemed he would now have to rely on the sporadic supply at the local market and the generosity of friends. Despite the setback the Clerics mind was now clear, the parts were only one part of the ultimate quest, the forge guardian would have to be fought and defeated he would need to do much training.

The Cleric raised himself to his feet drew himself up and focused his mind, he would work out his frustration in the anthill.
Korba posted @ 06:09 - Link - comments
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