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The Adventure of the Horker - Part I

Started by Theodore
Post #122475

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Daggerfall Covenant (Breton)







Retelling his travels through various delights and pleasures, solemnities and divinities and details the holy truce, or cessation of arms and management.

Part I


2E 564

So it came that the humble scribe who is Theodore Lewynth (known by some as ‘the Horker’), found himself, as usual, by his perfectly arranged and neat desk on the second floor inside the tower of archmage Harlwystyr Ealthar. Hardly surprising and ironic, he thought, that today when Harlwystyr had left the tower to meddle in some nearby town, there was absolutely no work to be done. No papers to be sorted, no mail to be read and no pesky visitors to send back home, it was surprising, indeed.

Eventually, despite the sour feeling of guilt bubbling in his stomach, the scribe decided to lean back in his upholstered chair and rest. A cosy and warm feeling soon embraced Theodore, the guilt vanished and he drew his mantle tight around his plump body, so as to truly enwrap himself with this exotic feeling of carnal decadence.

Theodore fell asleep, without a stroke of guilt haunting his mind.

* * *

A deafening sound suddenly shattered his trance. To the pulsating sound resembling something like a thousand flying bees circulating the throughout the interior of the tower, Theodore awoke!

He stood up rashly, with the rolls of fat of his belly bobbing up and down due to the hasty manoeuvre. In his grave confusion, he managed to lash out with an arm and hit an inkhorn which spilled out its contents all over the desk. “Cursed be all the foul beasts!” he thought. Someone or something had triggered one of the numerous warding spells Harlwystyr had woven into the tower. Someone with unauthorised access had tried to teleport into the tower.

He rashly and with stumbling steps, quite similar to panicking hen, ran to the fragile ladder which led up to the roof and climbed the creaking thing with steps all too heavy. Finally having made his way up, he panted heavily and gazed out in the dark night, over the fields. What he saw rendered him speechless.

A group of hostile individuals, it seemed to be, with burning torches and- he swallowed and started sweating. Theodore came to the insight that it was not torches they held. Five unknown wizards dressed in blue robes, holding dangerous-looking red glowing staves, were making their way to the tower.

Theodore had to act on instinct.

* * *

“Quick, quick, quick! The scroll containing the antiphon to silence the thousand bees and to activate the repulsion-of-swanky-intruders-spell, where is it?!” Theodore thought as he hysterically dug through the dusty bookshelves of the second floor. He had to find it, otherwise not even the Divines could be certain of know what would happen to the tower! “Of course they would know, wretched heretic!” he recalled some authority on divine affairs in a book he once read angrily spit out. “I-I am so sorry, sorry, sorry!” he murmured back in response with volatile tone and wiped off a layer of sweat from his greasy face.

Where was the scroll?! It was nowhere to be found! Three wooden throbs on the door resounded throughout the tower, parallel to the humming noise of Harlwystyr’s warding spell. “Harlwystyr, come out!” an aggressive and confident voice shouted. “We know you’re in there, you can’t hide forever,” it said and continued, “We saw your chubby silhouette on the roof, to think that that you’ve added up so much fat over the winter. Comical, eh?”

Theodore dropped to the floor, stricken by fear and overcome by disharmonious sound of the warding spell. For a few moments he laid there, on the ground. Sweating and crawling around like a mudcrab on his back, unable to get back up, his legs flopping around as if he were swimming through the air, he seemed to get nowhere.

During these very weak moments of his still young life, he realised that he would like to ponder many a thing, as heroes do in the tales when they are about to meet their end. What were his thoughts about his family? His duty under the venerable Archmage? His writings and his allegiance to the Cobalt Cloaks? Questions left for contemplation at another time.

It would be from an outside point-of-view, quite comical to bear witness to him right now, Theodore realised. But he could not cease panicking just yet, he needed a reason, a reason that could uplift him from this pseudo-state of a mindless drone.

A metallic tone rang loudly, coming from the door. Then suddenly he remembered. His body calmed down, his eyes closed and he laid still on the hardwood floor, just breathing. The wizards had resorted to magic in their pursuit to breach into the tower.

The metallic tone was heard once more. Then a second time. And a third time.

Harlwystyr’s defences activated.
This post was last modified: February 27th 2014, 11:30 AM by Theodore
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