……….2007,2008,2009. The priest counted off his steps through the murky slime that passed for ground in this hellish place. His eyes which could penetrate even the blackest night, couldn’t see more than a few feet through the choking gray smoke that apparently covered this whole cursed plane. His once bright white cloak had been quickly dulled to the same bland gray that covered everything else here. From time to time he could glimpse the barbed tip of a wing or a sharply clawed foot of the bat-like demons that seemed to be the only other inhabitants of this desolate land. He winced involuntarily as an old pain in his shoulder decided to show itself again. He had felt those black claws, and the wounds although long healed, still ached from time to time. The wicked bats had learned to stay away from him though. A rare smile crept onto his face then at the memory of the piles of bodies it had taken to teach that lesson. He stopped for a moment and pulled out the fine elvish sword that hung from his hip. The glow from the blade was an eerie green candle in the smoke. He closed his eye
. . .
But first, where there is a dragon, there is a dragons hoard. He looked over to where his magic blade had fallen from his grasp and stared at it suspiciously for a moment wondering if it might be causing his nightmares. s and felt for the subtle tug from the blade which was his only compass through the land. By now he had lost count of the times he had lost count. Despite the pain he raised his head and looked around frantically.
With a great gasp of air Valik Silvereye opened his eyes, the one silver iris from whence he took his name flashing in the darkness. Then the dull pain throughout his body brought back the memory. He was being led somewhere, but by whom and for what purpose he couldn’t tell. They had both somehow survived the battle, and the hunt could continue for the evil mind bending psionic and her noble captive. The battle that came next lasted many minutes, with spells, blades, and the beasts razor claws and teeth flashing in the darkness. The thought of treasure making his silver eye sparkle. None of his divinations, or spells that might allow him to escape this place seemed to work here, and his God, the great Corellion Larethion protector of the elves, either wouldn’t or couldn’t answer his pleas for help. He was relieved to see a warm shape lying next to him.
Approximate Word count =
740
Approximate Pages =
3 (250 words per page double spaced)
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