Post Three
By: Mage
The astral landscape was serene, a little too quiet for Adrian's taste, it felt like the calm before a storm. He deftly made his way through the woods,
making not a sound on the leaf-covered forest floor. He stopped instinctively, swinging his arms back with as much weight as he could. He fell backward and he saw a very large tree-trunk sized club crash into an
oak right where he had been standing. He kicked his feet up and back, rolling onto his knees; he then hopped to his feet, and darted to his right,
searching for his assailant as he drew Fearstryker from it's sheath. The Onyx sword blazed with magical intensity, the ruby pommel aglow, casting red
light on the forest floor. He looked about wildly, seeing not a soul. Dropping down to his haunches, he put his back against a redwood, hoping that it would provide ample protection from the monstrous weapon his opponent was wielding. It just so happened that he had barely moved in time, as the club smashed through a sapling in front of him, and he finally confronted his enemy.
Before him towered a Zealot, standing 16 feet at the shoulder, it's arms thicker than Adrian's head. His skin was a pale yellow-grey, and his eyes glowed a fierce blue. All along his body were tribal tattoos of the Metathran Astral Tribe.
The creature brought the club up behind it's shoulder and around, swinging it down in an overhead chop at Adrian. He darted left and forward, coming in
too close for the weapon to hit him. The giant's forearms slammed down onto Adrian's shoulders, and his arms came free of their sockets, hanging limply
and now painfully at his side. His knees collapsed out from under him. As he fell, he brought his sword up, and with a pain-filled yell, he swung at the
beast's shins with Fearstryker, and the enchanted blade bit deeply into the corded muscles of the Zealot's legs. The runes etched into the sword flared
to magical life and began to flood the monster's body with venomous poison that made it's way straight to the creature's head, twisting and tearing away at the creature's mind. The giant screamed in anguish, it's voice piercing the chill night air as it crumpled to the ground. It began to shrink, bones popping, and it's form twisted as a cloud of black mist gathered around it. As the fog floated away, a familiar form emerged from the cloud.
"Nehru, you miserable cur!" he shouted at Bastiaan's impish familiar. He glared at the pitiful creature for several silent seconds, and then inquired "What news?".
"He has made his move," the imp said quite simply, and turned to leave. Adrian sat, thoughtful, in the silence before deciding what to do. He rose
to a stand, placing his palms together, and the concentrated, falling inward as he let himself be carried along by the astral winds. When he opened his eyes again, he was in an aviary. He looked about, seeing people through the lush green growth of the indoor garden. He made his way down through the dense vegetation to a cobblestone path that wound about several small knolls that hosted similar patches of growth. He found his way to an exit, and ended up in a back alley. He left the alley that emptied onto a
main thoroughfare, and looked about for a certain building. He spotted it almost immediately, and walked straight for it. Keeping his eyes on the sign, he did not notice the other occupants of the sidewalk, and he collided with a very large man. He fell the the ground the man just glared and spat, "Watch where you're bloody going!!" and stalked off. Adrian rubbed his head, which had made very intimate contact with the cold, unforgiving wall of a local grocer. He could already feel a lump forming. He hopped to his feet,
wavering unsteadily for a moment, and then started off toward the inn that was his destination, this time a little more wary of his surroundings.
He entered the main dining area, and waded through the crowd the counter and tossed a gold sovereign onto the counter, and simply said "Room, food, and board." The innkeeper flung a key at him, which he happened to catch with the side of his head. He bent down and retrieved the key, and then made his way wearily up to the room indicated on the key. He fell asleep shortly
after his sore head made contact with the pillow.
