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The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - Assault in Stormguard By AaronDennis Characters: 5333

Updated: 2018-01-04 12:02


"Why would they fight down here?" Larson dry heaved and burped.

"It isn't obvious?" Tannish remarked, trying to hold his breath. "The fight erupted upstairs, and the cultists dragged the priests down here to slaughter them."

"But there as many White Wraith corpses, " Yoris argued.

"It doesn't matter, " Larson rebutted. "Let's press on and secure the basement before we make any assumptions. There is someone down here, remember?"

Yoris drew one of his swords before taking another step. Wilma also pulled her spear from her back. At the end of the corridor, past a dozen or so dismembered corpses, and some truly horrifying—beheaded, with their eyes open, their tongues protruding—was a single, bloody door. As the warriors steeled themselves for battle, more sounds reverberated from beyond, something like pots or pans falling to the stone floor.

I don't wanna' get stabbed, Larson thought, I really don't wanna' get stabbed again. Yoris made to hand the torch to Larson. Surprised by the orc, he ceased his reverie, and received the light. The orc pulled the door open, so the fighter pushed beyond him, sword and torch at the ready, and with wide eyes, he took in the sights of a storage room full of shelves, which were filled with molding breads, fruits, rat chewed sacks of grains, and the rats, which scurried about.

"Damn it, " Yoris grumbled, having bolted in right behind Larson and poised for battle. He turned to address them all, saying, "It was rats knocking things over!"

As they were about to heave sighs of relief, a deafening explosion rattled their ears; La

hey had laid him onto a cot. Tannish had his robe pulled up and was making an effort to stop the bleeding. "He needs a healer."

"I know, " the elf sighed. "Yoris."

"On it."

The orc took off with tremendous speed. Larson approached the priest. His aging face was badly bruised, his left leg was bleeding profusely, and his femur was protruding from flesh. Rubbing his hair, Larson searched for a place to safely drop the wood burning in his hand, when he didn't find one, he stomped out to the portico, and dropped the wood on the stone floor. Cooling breezes caressed his face. He noticed the sky had lightened, and heard the chirping of birds in the distance along with a muffled chorus of voices; people were up and about, a few even walked by, giving him a scanty glance.

Exhaling, Larson popped his neck and trudged back into the priests' quarters. The other two were still tending the priest's wounds. While Tannish tried to sop up the blood, Wilma claimed the priest had been tortured for information.

"You don't know that, " Tannish snapped.

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