Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

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Sir Tawmis
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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by Sir Tawmis »

AnnElfwind wrote:Oooh! Jorale has something up her sleeve. I have a feeling that the others should watch their backs around her. Especially Tawmis and his group when they finally meet. Which is the part I'm looking forward the most at the moment. :)
Indeed! I enjoyed the idea of making Sir Karin and Alissa, relatively innocent people. (One a knight, one a princess). Then, to write the other half of their team as ruthless (Jorale, who has no regard for human life, and Stonebreaker a ruthless barbarian)...

Think I have one more part to tell about Jorale and Stonebreaker (giving each of them 3 "backstory" segments) before bringing it back to the island.
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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by Sir Tawmis »

This story brings up and ties into the final origin of Sir Karin & Alissa... bringing these six together...

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Be sure to check out: http://tawmis.com/grimrock/
More information about the story than a Medusa has statues!


The Origin of Jorale and Stonebreaker Bloodrage, Part Three

“He’s too wounded. He would be dead before the night’s fall. Put the savage out of his misery, but keep his head. I will put it on the bow of the ship,” Captain Bairon sighed.

“No,” Jorale said, whispering, but her voice seemed to reach each of the men in their head. “Allow me to apply some alchemy solutions. I do believe I can save this man’s life. Then he will fetch us a great fortune.”

“Us?” Captain Bairon turned to face Jorale. “You are merely a passenger on this voyage. An observer. And a nice roll in the covers. There is no ‘us.’”

“You misunderstand me,” Jorale bowed slight, “I mean ‘us’ as in the crew. If people hear of our ability to capture the savage’s chief – it will raise your worth, and be a victory for us all.”

She was a snake. Captain Bairon knew it. But the way she smiled. He couldn’t help it. He should kill her now. She was going to prove to be deadly. But… she was so good at what she did… Just one more night he would let her live.

Just like he told himself for the last sixteen nights on the way to the Icefall Bay.

On the way back, she had spent her nights below quarters, among the slaves. Captain Bairon checked on her each and every night, hoping she would come up and lay with him, but instead she tended to the barbarian chief.

On the fourth night, the bell in the crow’s nest began to ring violently, waking Captain Bairon from his sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, seeing that once again, Jorale was not at his side.

Captain Bairon slid on his black, leather boots and stormed to the top of the deck. “What is it?”

“There,” one of his men pointed out in the ocean. Fragments of a ship, sundered to a thousand pieces, floated adrift. The mast of the shattered ship, dipped in and out of the ocean, her flags drenched in blood. “Serpents of Harbardar,” the man said, shuddering. The Serpents of Harbardar were slavers, much like those aboard the Elfin Wind; but the Serpents of Harbardar frequently tortured those that they thought were too weak to fetch significant coin, and throw the dead or dying bodies over the edge of their ship to honor their god, Searar, the Serpent God, who is said to be a giant snake that lives in the darkest reaches of the ocean’s bottom.

“We have someone alive,” another person shouted from the edge. “There. Look.”

Captain Bairon signaled his men to throw a line down and fetch what appeared to be a woman. Two men tied themselves to the rope and dove into the water. The rest of the men hauled them back, and they saw it was a woman. Captain Bairon kneeled down and looked at the blond woman. “She’s royalty,” Captain Bairon muttered. “Malanian Empire, by the clothes she wears. We can return her and fetch a high price. Put her up in one of the rooms. Take good care of her. Do not let her below decks. She must not know we’re slavers.”

“Another one!” a crew member shouted.

“Potentially from the Malanian Empire as well,” Captain Bairon smiled. While Jorale had not laid with him for several days; that seemed to drift to the back of his mind as he thought of the money he was about to make. They pulled the next survivor, which was a man, dressed in leathers, but also bore the mark of the Malanian Empire.

That man was Sir Karin.He opened his eyes to warmth. But the ground he was laying on was still not stable. He squinted, still beaten and bruised. A woman leaned over him, “This one’s still got life in him. Take him down below so that Jorale can look at him. He might be happy to know that the woman we found floating in the same wreckage is also alive. They both seem to be from the Malanian Empire by the markings they bare.”

Another? Sir Karin couldn’t help but hope that it was Alissa…

The woman smiled – though not with kindness, and she spoke the words, “Welcome about the Elfin Wind.”

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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by Sir Tawmis »

So since the previous story brought Sir Karin & Alissa together with Jorale & Stonebreaker... I thought why not bring all six of them together (since they were all aboard the same ship when it went down) with Tawmis, Coy, Blaz'tik and Taren... And explain it... So there's the segment with Captain Bairon and how he acquires our original heroes... And then I had to dig up some of the older story segments to add at the bottom to piece it together...

And with this... we resume the current story with where everyone was left off at... Which I will probably need to do a refresher for (anyone reading this as well as myself!)...


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Don't forget to check out: http://tawmis.com/grimrock/
Which has more information about this story than Jorale has had lovers!


Captain Bairon looked at Jorale, who had not slept with him now for several days, preferring the company of the barbarian chief that they had enslaved. She claimed she was “nursing him back to health” to fetch a higher profit, but at night, Captain Bairon heard her moans; he knew them well. He knew that she had been doing more than tending to his wounds. He approached her and said, “We are going to be stopping in Nothampton. Do you need to go by your alchemy store?”

Jorale shook her head, “No, I sold the store when we left. I will stay aboard the ship when we dock.”

Captain Bairon knew why she wanted to remain aboard the ship. “Fine,” he said, his words were intended to cut like a dagger; but she cared little for what he thought, so she kindly offered a false smile.

When the Elfin Wind docked, Captain Bairon walked through the streets of Nothampton and noticed that there was a noticeable amount of energy and people gathered and talking. He made his way to the Broken Dagger; a bar of some questionable establishment. Even there, everyone seemed unusually excited. Captain Bairon leaned on the bar and ordered a drink. When the bartender came and delivered his drink, Captain Bairon asked, “What’s all the excitement?”

“Have you not heard?” the bartender asked. “About the explosion?”

“Explosion?” Captain Bairon sipped his drink. “What explosion?”

“Grimrock,” the bartender replied. “It exploded. Caused massive damage and shockwaves.”

“Grimrock… exploded…” That seemed so unlikely; impossible to comprehend. “The prison? That Mount Grimrock?”

“One and the same,” the bartender assured him.

“How?” Captain Bairon stammered for words. This was certainly not what he had expected to hear. Being out to sea, the roar of the ocean, had covered any chance of hearing the explosion, if it did indeed explode.

“Well, no one knows for sure,” the bartender admitted. “However, there were what appears to be four survivors – people are saying they’re the ones who made the mountain explode. Some slavers docked with the survivors – they were supposedly found around the Great Lake. The slavers intend to sell them for a high price – as ‘the destroyers of Grimrock.’ I can’t help but imagine that would fetch a pretty penny to any slaver. If,” the bartender smiled, “you were into that kind of thing.” Most of the patrons in the Broken Dagger were indeed slavers, or murderers, and the ilk. Usually hiding here, waiting for the next ship to get off the main continent and escape justice.

“If I were into such a thing,” Captain Bairon reached deep into his pockets and slid several gold coins across the bar. “On which ship might I find these ‘destroyers of Grimrock’?”

“Well,” the bartender said, palming the coins, “from what I heard, the last group of slavers that has these ‘destroyers of Grimrock’ are the ones aboard the Night’s Moon.”

“Thank you,” Captain Bairon finished his drink and slid it across the bar and began to walk out.

“Be cautious however,” the bartender called out, fiddling with the coins. “From what I have heard, that’s the fifth ship they’ve been on; seems the slavers all have the same idea, and keep killing one another, to try and steal the slaves. So if you get them – you might think of sailing out as quickly as possible.”

Captain Bairon reached into his pouch and flipped another coin to the bartender who caught it easily, as if money simply gravitated to his hand. “Thank you for the advice,” Captain Bairon smiled.

He returned to the Elf Wind and gathered several men who made their move at night. Most of the crew of the Night’s Moon were extremely intoxicated, celebrating their victory of how much these slaves would fetch them. Captain Bairon’s men moved through the ship, slitting throats and throwing bodies over the edge. Below the deck, they found three prisoners unconscious – a human, minotaur, an insectoid and even a Ratling – who was the only one conscious. “What an odd collection of prisoners,” one of Captain Bairon’s men whispered.

“What are you doing?” Coy, the Ratling prisoner asked.

“We’re here to liberate you from the Night’s Moon,” Captain Bairon smiled.

“You’re slavers too,” Coy sneered.

“And you’re observant,” Captain Bairon snarled back. “Make a sound and we slice you wide open. Is that understood?”

“Crystal clear,” Coy replied. “But you will get yours before this is all done.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Captain Bairon replied, as he gestured his men to try and lift Taren, the Minotaur.

Several hour later…

Tawmis opened his eyes, and looked around. There was a familiar sight. And for a moment, he wondered if he had dreamed the entire event of Grimrock – and wondered if he was still in the prison cell in Curvia, where this had all begun.

But when he could barely stand, and not because he was groggy from the explosion, but because the ground seemed to sway beneath his feet; he grabbed the bars for balance. Then he could smell it. The fresh ocean breeze. The sound of waves crashing against a ship.

He looked around him and saw Taren, Blaz’tik and Coy.

“Where are we?” Tawmis asked, having no memory after the explosion that shook Grimrock.

“We’re on a slave ship,” Taren muttered, recognizing the interior of the ship.

“The Elf Wind,” Coy said, “to be exact. Chances are we’re headed up Daejon for Gladiator combat slavery.”

“What happened?” Tawmis asked.

“The explosion drew a lot of attention,” Coy replied. “Mages. Warriors. Thieves. All interested in what might be within Grimrock’s remains. Apparently we were fortunate enough to be found by slavers and traders down stream from the Great Lake.”

“That’s just wonderful,” Tawmis sighed, and sunk against the bars. “What else could possibly go wrong?”

They spent several days aboard the Elfin Wind, occasionally visited by an attractive woman, who seemed interested in how they had “destroyed” Grimrock – but none of them felt like talking.

Later that evening, Tawmis stood, hands on the bars of the cage and rattled them as much as he could, as if hoping he could bend them. "I refuse to fight in a gladiator ring again. I refuse to be a slave." Tawmis' eyes drifted to Taren who had been unusually silent. For both of them, they met in a gladiator ring. Together, they fought side by side and earned their freedom. But the time as a Gladiator was harsh. They had witness so much death, so much brutality. "We will find a way out of this," Tawmis assured the massive minotaur.

Taren turned and looked at Tawmis and gave him a weak smile. "I am sure we will. Our path is just unclear at the moment."

Suddenly the ship lurched to the right unexpectedly, sending all of them crashing painfully into the metal bars, unable to adjust to the sudden shift in the ship's direction. Blaz'tik tried to pull himself up, but the ship was still pulling hard to the right. "What -tic!- is going on?"

"I've been on enough ships," Taren replied. "This is not natural. I don't even hear any wind. Something is pulling the ship to the right. And pulling very hard."

Coy peered through one of portholes of the ship. "You may not hear winds, but those skies have turned black! Look!"

Outside it was as if a grey bottle of paint was spilled across the sky. Slowly, it spread, devouring the once blue skies, and making them dark and grey. Accompanying the change, the sea also began to surge; large waves slammed up against the ship, which rocked the entire boat. Down below, Tawmis and others found themselves being batted around their prison cages. Above deck, the crew members were shouting; the voices of most were clearly drenched in just as much fear as they were wet. Tawmis turned to Blaz'tik, "This you're doing?"

"I'm afraid not," Blaz'tik replied, his mandibles clicking nervously.

"This is not a natural storm," Taren stared out the porthole. The ship took a massive dive, her front piercing deep into the ocean as she came over the wave. As she came back over the next wave, an island came into view.

"That's Nex," Coy replied.

"Isn't that where you're from?" Tawmis asked.

"Yes," Coy replied, though he didn't sound excited.

Just then, someone in the crow's nest shouted something about land.

Then came the crash; and the coral reef ripped through the bottom of the boat, cutting her open, filling her with water.

The last thing Tawmis heard before the water washed over him was Coy mentioning something about "The Master."

Elsewhere on the island…

The tide crashed violently against the shore, and with it, more bodies and tattered remains of the slaver ship, The Elfin Wind. One of the bodies rose up, coughing and choking. It was a large, burly man, whose muscles showed signs of constant usage. His tribal markings up and down the left arm, as well as those on his forehead marked him as a barbarian from the Endless Tundra far to the northern lands.

Next to him, another body stirred; a tall man, whose long blond hair, and trimmed mustache showed he was someone of some class. On his side, a massive sword that had clearly meant something to him. He was helping a woman wearing red robes, whose blond hair and blue eyes, were striking and unusual features.

The fourth person to wash ashore was also another human, who wore slaver’s clothing. The fourth person stood up and immediately took a defensive position. “Do not try anything,” she warned, as she reached for her pouch and pulled out a crimson flask.

The large barbarian growled in response. The human with the large sword, put his hand back. “Hold,” he said to the barbarian. He looked around. “That was no natural storm that brought the ship down. And this island is not on any map that I have ever seen.”

“It was magic,” the woman in the red robes told him, still coughing and vomiting ocean water from her lungs. “I told you that I sensed magic as soon as the storm appeared.”


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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by AnnElfwind »

And that's the one missing segment that we needed to tie 1 and 2 together. :) I DID wonder how exactly Tawmis and his group got on the slave ship... Now I know. ;)
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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by Sir Tawmis »

AnnElfwind wrote:And that's the one missing segment that we needed to tie 1 and 2 together. :) I DID wonder how exactly Tawmis and his group got on the slave ship... Now I know. ;)
Hah. I wondered the same; the story eventually came together as it wrote itself. :lol:

I am almost sad that I already did away with Captain Bairon having become the statue on the Isle of Nex... it was actually beginning to get really fun writing him...
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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by AnnElfwind »

Sir Tawmis wrote:
AnnElfwind wrote:And that's the one missing segment that we needed to tie 1 and 2 together. :) I DID wonder how exactly Tawmis and his group got on the slave ship... Now I know. ;)
Hah. I wondered the same; the story eventually came together as it wrote itself. :lol:

I am almost sad that I already did away with Captain Bairon having become the statue on the Isle of Nex... it was actually beginning to get really fun writing him...
Then find some kind of a roundabout way to revive him. Jorale might do it... She looks like the type that would. :D If she got tired of the barbarian, that is. Or the keymaster might do it himself, just to throw a monkey wrench into everyone's plans. :D

Oh, and the Phantom character whose portrait I was admiring, I just re-read his profile and it seems like he's alive... I would love to see him make an appearance. And if he's dead, then his ghost. :D
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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by Sir Tawmis »

AnnElfwind wrote: Then find some kind of a roundabout way to revive him. Jorale might do it... She looks like the type that would. :D If she got tired of the barbarian, that is. Or the keymaster might do it himself, just to throw a monkey wrench into everyone's plans. :D
Oh, and the Phantom character whose portrait I was admiring, I just re-read his profile and it seems like he's alive... I would love to see him make an appearance. And if he's dead, then his ghost. :D
I am okay with Captain Bairon's ultimate fate as being a piece on the island; seems deserving that someone with a heart of stone, be turned into stone himself.

As for Phantom, I could definitely see Phantom sending his ship to The Isle of Nex, after hearing rumors that Taren might have been one of the survivors, just so he could personally put an end to Taren himself... But I couldn't imagine a third party landing on the island and writing them - as much fun as that would be...

Unless some people perish and open some slots... ;)
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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by Sir Tawmis »

This isn't a new post - this was previously posted - just reposting (as a reminder for myself) where everyone is currently now that all the origin stories are out of the way...

Reposted:

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“I know those robes,” Tawmis said, “and that odor. The odor is embalming fluid. Those robes are ones traditionally worn by embalmers in the temples.”

Blaz’tik shrugged, “I –tic!- would wear them,” he pulled on his current, tattered rags, “over –tic!- these robes.” Taren reached down into the coffin and pulled out the robes and handed them to Blaz’tik.

“So where’s the sword?” Tawmis suddenly realized. “I thought that’s why we dug this hole up?”

“We –tic!- assumed that the –tic!- sword was here,” Blaz’tik countered, as he slid the embalmer’s robes on.

“That would have been too easy,” Tawmis finally said and sat down on the mound of freshly dug dirt.

“Over here,” came the rumbling voice of Taren. Tawmis looked across the field, and with the moon watching over them, could see Taren’s massive form.

“What is it?” Tawmis called out. “Another mound? Another coffin? Another statue?” His sarcasm carried on his voice over the quiet night.

Taren turned his head slightly, “It would seem the Island Master has another riddle in mind.”

Tawmis, Blaz’tik (wearing his new robes, and observing how they glistened in the dark night) and Coy made their way to stand next to Taren. “What is this?” Tawmis blurted out loud, gesturing to the square stones on the ground.

“I believe –tic!- it is another riddle, as the minotaur said,” Blaz’tik commented.

Tawmis eyed Blaz’tik from the corner of his eye. As an insectoid, Blaz’tik wasn’t able to fluctuate his voice or even smile; but Tawmis got the impression the insectoid was indeed trying to be funny.

It was three rows of three square stones, in the form of a larger square. “We’re supposed to figure out what to do with this?” Tawmis asked, looking at the others. He turned and faced Blaz’tik, “Can you magic something? Get a tingly sensation? Maybe a clue?”

“I sense no magic vibrating from these stones,” Blaz’tik confessed immediately.

Coy was looking at the edge of one of the squares. “There’s gears. I can hear them. These are pressure plates.”

“So we step on the wrong one and potentially meet a painful death,” Tawmis muttered beneath his breath. He was about to say something about Mages; but looked over at Blaz’tik and silenced himself before the words came out of his mouth.

“What if these are all linked?” Taren asked.

Tawmis looked at his best friend, “What do you mean?”

“We’re looking for the Captain’s sword,” Taren explained. “The note made references to the love of the sea and commanding his crew. So what if this,” he gestured, “what if this is where ‘X’ marks the spot?”

“I’m not following you,” Tawmis replied, raising an eye brow questioningly.

“Put a stone, heavy enough to trigger the pressure plate on these two corners and one in the center – it would form an ‘X’ like on a map,” Taren explained.

“That sounds almost entirely too logical to be right,” Tawmis said.

“Have you any other ideas?” Taren smiled, his teeth glistening in the moonlight.

Tawmis stood there for a moment and finally said, “Come to think of it, no.”

As they set the last stone in the center, Tawmis closed his eyes – expecting death to come in the form of some fireball or other magical means. After a few moments, he opened his right eye and looked around – they were all still standing there – alive. He opened his other eye and smiled when he saw a door that they had not noticed was now open.

“Well,” he said, as if he had always believed this plan would work, “now we’re getting somewhere.”

Elsewhere on the island…

Uncomfortable about traveling into the unknown, and unusually thick woods, Sir Karin had recommended making camp at the mouth of the cave that had led them into the Twigroot Forest. Jorale agreed to the idea, wanting to take the time to go through the journal that they had recovered from the deceased person that they had found. Such knowledge would be useful to an alchemist such as herself. Alissa seemed to care neither way; she was primarily concerned with getting off the island and completing her mission to Terradin, in the Western continent to open up a trade route between the two kingdom as her King has requested of her. After all, she felt that anything that was on this island was not up to facing a trained mage from the Malanian Empire. Stonebreaker sighed at the idea of needing rest, but agreed. He immediately offered to take the final watch.

When Sir Karin woke up, he could smell fresh meat cooking. He sat up and saw Stonebreaker sitting by the campfire. “What did you hunt?”

“Hunt?” Stonebreaker turned. “Why hunt when there was good meat here?”

“Good meat?” Sir Karin rubbed his eyes. He then noticed that a skull hung from Stonebreaker’s belt that he had not noticed before. “Where did you get…”

Suddenly Sir Karin sat up. “By the Sha-Raessh Serpent! You’re cooking the dead man! And you have his skull on your belt!”

Stonebreaker seemed unaffected by Sir Karin’s accusations as the others began to awake. “I carry his skull because my people believe that if we take the skulls of those who have fallen; we carry them with us, gaining their strength, insight and wisdom. This man was clearly a wise man, from what he noted in his journal. Carrying his spirit with us seems to be a wise choice. As for cooking his flesh,” Stonebreaker continued, “it is better than it feeds us, who respects what he once was, rather than savage animals who would disrespect his body.”

Alissa looked over at Jorale, “Still think he would be good under the covers?”

Jorale smiled, “More convinced than ever,” she smiled.

Alissa should have known. Jorale was a slaver. Not a civilized person.

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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by Sir Tawmis »

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“Put a stone, heavy enough to trigger the pressure plate on these two corners and one in the center – it would form an ‘X’ like on a map,” Taren explained.

Tawmis folded his arms in front of his chest, glancing back and forth between the oddly shaped stones and his large minotaur friend. He nodded a few times, before he said, “You know, that sounds almost entirely too logical to be right.”

“Have you any other ideas?” Taren smiled, his teeth glistening in the moonlight.

Tawmis stood there for a moment and finally said, “Come to think of it, no.”

As they set the last stone in the center, Tawmis closed his eyes – expecting death to come in the form of some fireball or other magical means. After a few moments, he opened his right eye and looked around – they were all still standing there – alive. He opened his other eye and smiled when he saw a door that they had not noticed was now open.

“Well,” he said, as if he had always believed this plan would work, “now we’re getting somewhere.”

Tawmis peered through the doorway and saw an open field. "Looks like we're clear."

Just as the entered the center of the field, a humanoid creature resembling the mixture of a human and a frog leaped out in front of them, squawking an odd sound and shaking it's spear. Tawmis took a step back and cast a side glance to Coy, "I suppose you know what that thing is?"

"Zarchton," Coy replied. "Aquatic creatures. They only come out on land to gather food."

"So if we leave it alone, it will go back to the water," Tawmis began.

"No," Coy added quickly, "they're also extremely territorial and aggressive."

"Of course they are," Tawmis muttered. "And us without weapons."

"I wouldn't -tic!- say that," Blaz'tik smiled. He gestured his hands in the air, forming small circles, then throwing dust into the air. A white sphere, composed of pure light, shot from Blaz'tik's hands and struck the Zarchton in the eye. The creature howled and reeled back. Blaz'tik tapped Taren on the arm. "Do you -tic!- thing!"

Taren lowered his head, charging the Zarchton and impaling it on his horns. The stunned, blinded, creature dropped its trident, and flailed, hopelessly, perched on Taren's horns, until the light died from his blind eyes. Taren lowered his head, and the hapless, dead Zarchton slid off his bloody horns.

Coy looked at the towering minotaur and said, ever so softly, "I see now, how you got your last name..."


Elsewhere on the island…

Suddenly Sir Karin sat up. “By the Sha-Raessh Serpent! You’re cooking the dead man! And you have his skull on your belt!”

Stonebreaker seemed unaffected by Sir Karin’s accusations as the others began to awake. “I carry his skull because my people believe that if we take the skulls of those who have fallen; we carry them with us, gaining their strength, insight and wisdom. This man was clearly a wise man, from what he noted in his journal. Carrying his spirit with us seems to be a wise choice. As for cooking his flesh,” Stonebreaker continued, “it is better than it feeds us, who respects what he once was, rather than savage animals who would disrespect his body.”

Alissa looked over at Jorale, “Still think he would be good under the covers?”

Jorale smiled, “More convinced than ever,” she smiled.

Alissa should have known. Jorale was a slaver. Not a civilized person.

Sir Karin stood, "Alissa and I can not travel this island with you two..." He blanched as Stonebreaker took another bite of the dead man's flesh he had been cooking. "You - you're a slaver," he pointed to Jorale, "who got us into this whole mess... and you... you... you're an uncivilized... beast."

Stonebreaker chewed the meat of the cooked dead man, before standing and towering over the tall, valiant, knight. "Go on. Leave," he gestured with the limb of the dead man, with meat still dangling on it. "See how long the two of you survive. This island is a death trap," he gestured towards the remaining carcass of the man he had cut up and cooked. "Whatever killed this man surprised him. This man shows no signs that he put up a fight. Something attacked him and killed him before he could even defend himself. If you think you and your lady friend can survive this island... then go. Me? I will do what it takes to survive. Make no mistakes - if either of you die, I will cook your flesh, and honor your skull - and take your power into myself. Because I will do what I must to survive."

Alissa looked at Sir Karin. "He's right. We need each other if we hope to survive. At least, long enough to get off this island."

"The beast just said he would eat us if we perished," Sir Karin pointed at Stonebreaker. "How can you even think to travel with such a beast?"

"Because that beast has the power to survive," Alissa replied. "He's a Northerner, who has survived in frozen wastes, with next to no food. And look how strong and powerful he is. I may not like it - I may not like him - but there's no denying that to separate from him and even the slaver, who from what I am told - is an accomplished alchemist - would be foolish. The barbarian is right - this island is a death trap. I can feel it all around me - there is magic at work here. Foul, dark magic. And we are being watched... like chess pieces on a board, being moved ..."

Sir Karin shook his head and heaved a deep sigh.

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Define ... 'Lost.' Neverending Nights - The Neverwinter Machinima that WILL make you laugh!
Also read: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance here on the forum! Check out the site I made for Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.
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Sir Tawmis
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Re: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.

Post by Sir Tawmis »

What's this? A new portion added to the story? After almost a year? Yes! Yes, it's true! The two parties have continued their adventure in this segment! Tawmis & Company get a weapon on the island; while elsewhere, Sir Karin struggles with what must be done to survive on this island - and even the one he has sworn to protect, Alissa, has caved in, in order to survive... will Sir Karin eventually give in as well? All this and more in future episodes? Let's hope so! In the meantime, read below for the next, new, piece of this Grimrock fanfic! The largest on the site! (And probably on the web as well!)

http://tawmis.com/grimrock/

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Tawmis kneeled and picked up the spear that the slain Zarchton had dropped and examined it, judging its weight and balance. He looked over at Coy, “So how many of these Zarchton things live on this island?”

“They live in every body of water,” Coy answered, searching the dead Zarchton and discovering two daggers, which he quickly slid into his own belt. “They’re also out there on the beach – they tend to salvage through wrecked ships that get too close this this island. That’s where they get most of their weapons.”

“Good to know,” Tawmis said, turning from Coy to Blaz’tik. “So… you got some magic up your sleeve? Remembering spells?”

“Some spells are -tic!- coming back to me,” Blaz’tik admitted. “I have found some -tic!- components around the island that I can use for my -tic!- spells. Some of it I am -tic!- improvising, so I am not always -tic!- sure what the end result will be. -tic!-“

“With out luck,” Tawmis heft the spear onto his shoulder, “you’re probably going to end up killing us. But then,” he patted Taren on the shoulder, “we will finally be out of our misery and done with the ill luck that seems to cling to us, eh, old friend?”

Taren smiled, his rows of glistening teeth and fangs, shined in the moonlight. “And my life debt to you will finally be over, and I will be able to go my own way in the After-life, and be free of the bad luck you bring,” Taren joked, his laugh sounding like boulders being crushed.

“Me?” Tawmis feigned offensiveness, “What do you mean me? You’re the one who was in the arena because of your bad luck.”

“You had wizards picking apart your brain,” Taren laughed, “which certainly explains why there isn’t a lot left there.”

Both situations were dire; and no one, but these two, could make fun of it. Had anyone else made fun of Taren in the arena, Tawmis would have run his spear through them; and likewise, had anyone mocked Tawmis for having his mind ripped apart by wizards, Taren would have crushed their heads in. These two shared a unique bond of unbelievable strength and loyalty towards one another.

Elsewhere on the island…

Sir Karin had watched as Stonebreaker continued to cook the remains of the dead body. He had to admit, despite his disgust, the meat was beginning to smell good. He had eaten only berries while on the island, and he could feel his muscles suffering for it. The armor was getting heavier. It was more of a strain to walk and take each step forward. If he wasn’t careful, if he wasn’t strong, then the death trap of an island would claim him too. Stonebreaker smiled at the valiant knight and extended some cooked meat towards him. “Don’t think of it as a person,” Stonebreaker said. “Think of it as whatever animal you ‘civilized’ people eat. You may not like it – may not like me, like you said – but, in the end, I also need you to be as strong as you can be.”

Sir Karin pushed the meat aside. “No thank you, savage.”

Jorale ate a portion of the meat. She was surprised. “It’s not bad,” she admitted. “It’s very tender. Juicy.”

Sir Karin blanched at the thought, his stomach churned. “You’re eating the flesh of a person.”

“I am doing what I must to survive,” Jorale replied. She reached into her pouch and pulled out some spices that she worked with and applied it to the meat, allowing it to soak for a moment before taking another bite. She offered it to Alissa, who looked at Sir Karin, then back to Jorale and took the meat.

“You’re not thinking of eating that,” Sir Karin said, shocked.

“I’m hungry,” Alissa replied, her voice low. “I tire of just eating berries and plants. My body is getting weak, and so is my mind. I can feel the spells slipping away, because I can’t focus on anything but my hunger.” She took a bite of the meat and slowly chewed. She was surprised. She had never eaten human flesh before; she did not know what to expect for taste… but… It did not taste bad. Her next bite she took with more confidence and enjoyment, removing from her mind that it was human flesh, as the hunger consumed her.

“A curse,” Sir Karin whispered, “a curse will fall on all of you. There is a legend in our lands, of those who devour human flesh, become monsters who prowl the night looking for more human flesh.”

“Probably,” Stonebreaker said between chewing, “because it tastes good.”

Sir Karin shook his head; and tried to hide the sound of the rumbling of his stomach as the smell of meat wafted into his nose.

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Define ... 'Lost.' Neverending Nights - The Neverwinter Machinima that WILL make you laugh!
Also read: Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance here on the forum! Check out the site I made for Legend of Grimrock: Destiny's Chance.
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