a_libertine
Literotica Guru
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This thread is closed for Cayleigh and myself.
He had a fleeting glimpse of it once before. Worlds, so very unlike his own, existed; that knowledge gave birth to an all-consuming drive to travel there. His pale skin faintly glimmered as if he had silver throughout his pores, just waiting to seep from his body. Pale hair, almost white, flowed freely down the middle of his back, rustled by the wind.
Brushing it back, he eyed the human before him, saying, “It is time, open the gate that will take me there.”
The old human, his hair long passed silver to a bleached white, looked up. “Are you sure you wish to do this?”
The elf held up a ruby the size of a baby’s fist and said, “As long as you are sure this will work, then yes.”
The old man snuffed, “Of course it will work as long as the place you described is not a magic free world.”
“It can’t be; I saw it through magic.”
“Very well, when do you wish to go?”
“It will take you ten minutes to cast the spell, start in an hour and I will be ready.”
Leaving the mages tower, the elf returned to the town. Entering the inn, the corpulent innkeeper greeted him with a smile and a booming voice, “Lord Malwyn! News of your presence here has reached far and wide, the inn is nearly bursting at the seams with those who wish to hear your stories, and songs.”
Looking at him, Malwyn smiled, “Send them back inn keep. I am leaving before the hour is done.”
The smile fell from the inn keeper’s face like an avalanche, “But, you said…”
The elf’s face tightened as he said, “Things changed.”
Bounding up the stairs two and three at a time, Malwyn arrived at his room, and packed his bags. Taking his time, he loaded his gear up, preparing for a long stay away. Ignoring the innkeeper’s pleas as he walked out of the inn, he nearly sprinted to the tower again.
Magic could be felt from outside, the hair on his head nearly standing on end as he entered.
“It is ready,” the old man said. His voice was weak and thin, the exertion took its toll on him.
“Good,” Malwyn said as he dropped a heavy bag on a side table. “The head your requested is within.”
The old man nodded, “As agreed, I will hold it open for ten minutes, no longer.”
Malwyn nodded and stepped through the translucent circle on the floor.
Stepping through he stood on a patch of grass, surrounded by trees. Looking around him, he saw a large flat rock behind him, deep grooves cut into it in parallel lines.
On the rock stood three men, two holding a woman down, her screams increasing in volume by the moment. The third man, kneeling between her legs was busily working at his belt, trying to undue his pants. Malwyn looked over the scene a moment or two until the he was noticed. The three men charged at him, screaming something he could not understand.
As they arrived, Malwyn whipped out a dagger, throwing into the first man’s throat, the blade slicing up through the throat entering the man’s brain. The other two stopped for a moment, looking in shock at the scene before them. That pause was fatal for both men.
His blade flashed left then right. A thin line on each of their throats immediately preceded two fountains of blood as each man dropped to his knees, the life draining from them. Taking a quick minute to examine each man, he took everything in their pockets and dropped it into one of his bags. Chanting words of arcane power, words she had not heard before, Malwyn approached the woman on the rock, and asked in a dulcet tenor, “Did they harm you overly much?”
He had a fleeting glimpse of it once before. Worlds, so very unlike his own, existed; that knowledge gave birth to an all-consuming drive to travel there. His pale skin faintly glimmered as if he had silver throughout his pores, just waiting to seep from his body. Pale hair, almost white, flowed freely down the middle of his back, rustled by the wind.
Brushing it back, he eyed the human before him, saying, “It is time, open the gate that will take me there.”
The old human, his hair long passed silver to a bleached white, looked up. “Are you sure you wish to do this?”
The elf held up a ruby the size of a baby’s fist and said, “As long as you are sure this will work, then yes.”
The old man snuffed, “Of course it will work as long as the place you described is not a magic free world.”
“It can’t be; I saw it through magic.”
“Very well, when do you wish to go?”
“It will take you ten minutes to cast the spell, start in an hour and I will be ready.”
Leaving the mages tower, the elf returned to the town. Entering the inn, the corpulent innkeeper greeted him with a smile and a booming voice, “Lord Malwyn! News of your presence here has reached far and wide, the inn is nearly bursting at the seams with those who wish to hear your stories, and songs.”
Looking at him, Malwyn smiled, “Send them back inn keep. I am leaving before the hour is done.”
The smile fell from the inn keeper’s face like an avalanche, “But, you said…”
The elf’s face tightened as he said, “Things changed.”
Bounding up the stairs two and three at a time, Malwyn arrived at his room, and packed his bags. Taking his time, he loaded his gear up, preparing for a long stay away. Ignoring the innkeeper’s pleas as he walked out of the inn, he nearly sprinted to the tower again.
Magic could be felt from outside, the hair on his head nearly standing on end as he entered.
“It is ready,” the old man said. His voice was weak and thin, the exertion took its toll on him.
“Good,” Malwyn said as he dropped a heavy bag on a side table. “The head your requested is within.”
The old man nodded, “As agreed, I will hold it open for ten minutes, no longer.”
Malwyn nodded and stepped through the translucent circle on the floor.
Stepping through he stood on a patch of grass, surrounded by trees. Looking around him, he saw a large flat rock behind him, deep grooves cut into it in parallel lines.
On the rock stood three men, two holding a woman down, her screams increasing in volume by the moment. The third man, kneeling between her legs was busily working at his belt, trying to undue his pants. Malwyn looked over the scene a moment or two until the he was noticed. The three men charged at him, screaming something he could not understand.
As they arrived, Malwyn whipped out a dagger, throwing into the first man’s throat, the blade slicing up through the throat entering the man’s brain. The other two stopped for a moment, looking in shock at the scene before them. That pause was fatal for both men.
His blade flashed left then right. A thin line on each of their throats immediately preceded two fountains of blood as each man dropped to his knees, the life draining from them. Taking a quick minute to examine each man, he took everything in their pockets and dropped it into one of his bags. Chanting words of arcane power, words she had not heard before, Malwyn approached the woman on the rock, and asked in a dulcet tenor, “Did they harm you overly much?”