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I Have a Little Plan - Part XVII


Started by Harlwystyr
Post #109614
Writer

310
Faction & Race:
Daggerfall Covenant
Breton
Part XVII

Thalric kicked his leg and blinked. "I can move again! Divines be praised, thank you, whoever-"

The body of Oswyn Balwick came into view, one of the man's hands holding him down by the shoulder, and Harlwysyr's deep voice came from his lips. "Save thy thanks a bit, lad. There're still things to do."

Thalric's eyes narrowed. "Oh? What are going to do?"

"Durana," Harl asked, "are ye up for this?"

"Yes," Durana sighed. "It has to be done."

"Aye, it has."

Thalric scowled and drew his head back, trying to get away. Harl's grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened.

"Suppose you explain what 'has' to be done before you do it, wizard."

"We have to look into thy mind to make certain no magic has stuck to thee on a subconscious level, influencing ye, or tracing ye."

Thalric went pale. "I knew it! I knew you'd find some excuse to-"

"So, you were just as clever as you thought you were, Thalric, and disappointed now, are you?" Burrath Irlen grunted, standing behind Durana.

"He's talking about enslaving my mind, Burrath!" Thalric shouted. "Forgive me if I'm..."

His voice trailed off and his eyes went from fiery rage to annoyed surprise.

Aye, this is what it feels to have a rude and dishonest old archmage mind touches yours, Harl's voice said, in the depths of his own head. The words were the usual gruff tones of the old wizard, but his mind felt friendly, as affectionate as any whimsical old grandfather. Thalric had a brief glimpse of shining, elven towers gleaming golden-white in a distant land, then a full bearded face wearing the crown of Daggerfall, a face that almost had to be a former king of the realm in his prime... then a redguard sorceress standing in the middle of a terrible lightning storm, her fingers radiating with power and eyes ablaze with arcane might... then he was staring down vast dark halls, passages crooking left and right to trail off into other endless corridors.

"Easy, lad, easy. Don't try to see all my remembrances at thy first gulp. It's taken me some eight centuries to assemble them; getting greedy is apt to drive ye mad."

Then Harlwystyr's mind seem to slide past him, like the mighty bulk of a flying dragon, a body that went on and on, revealing frightening size and power as it continued to roll past, and roll past, and kept on rolling...

Thalric's anger was gone, lost in wonder, and most of his fear with it. Harl's mind started to root around his own, and he felt a sudden sting of discomfort as Harl revealed dark and terrible things, some gruesome deaths and sadnesses that made him recoil, but he could tell the Old Meddler was hiding nothing, was letting him explore and feel whatever he wished.

And Thalric Camry realised he liked experiencing this visiting mind. He liked this old man. Truly liked Harlwystyr, as he was beginning - just beginning - to really know him, better than he'd ever known anyone before.

The vast mind turned gently and began to withdraw, the dragon cruising past in the other direction now. He'd seen so little of it, yet beheld enough to know one thing: he could trust Harlwystyr of Daggerfall.

Inside his mind or anywhere.

Tears suddenly welled up in his eyes, lost in a joy he knew was silly yet meant so much. Everyone, especially mercenaries, knew that it was hard to completely trust another, and that such affection often led to disappointment and regret.

Now, at last, he knew - knew - there was one person he could trust.

"Five, lad. There are five, not one," Harl whispered, a warm smile spreading across his lips. "Durana, Halwend, Burrath, Jalinda, and Harlwystyr Ealthar. Now stop weeping, there's still work to be done. Besides, I feel like we're overstaying our welcome here in Lord Irlen's home."

"M-my sister's place," Thalric suggested in a murmur. "I'd like to tell her everything, and there's a hot feast, beds, and the possibility of bathing."

They all fervently agreed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The invisible scrying orbs inside Irlen Manor were quickly proving very useful. He should have done this to every noble home in High Rock months ago!

Arthaurak stretched his vampiric body's arms and legs, spread a wide smirk, and nodded. Yes, this was perfect.

One of his winged twilights swooped down from the tower's ceiling, like a bird, and landed atop a large closet, hissing at him. Arthaurak winked at it.

"Aye, it's time!" he said aloud, clapping his hands in delight and turned back to his scrying sphere.

"Off to the Camry family's home the conquering heroes stroll, eh?" He stroked his chin thoughtfully, as an evil smile crept onto his features.

"Yes," he murmured aloud. "Magic failed me in destroying Harlwystyr before, so let us try older, more brutal methods."

He went to gather what he'd need to work a certain spell that would direct all of his mindslaves in Camlorn to a certain location.

They would need to head for the Camry family's home at once. With all their freshest poisons and favourite weapons.
This post was last modified: November 15th 2013 10:15 AM by Harlwystyr
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