Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2004 12:08 am
G-10
Majisto's Workshop
Among piles of scrolls, dust, and half-eaten bread, two voices penetrated the deep silence.
"Lord Void?"
"What is it, Jarvick?"
"I think this land has been cursed."
"How so?"
"What is that white stuff that is falling from the sky?"
The question was so odd Lord Void looked up from his scroll covered in Orcish scrawls.
"White stuff?" he queried, adjusting his monocle.
"Look."
Lord Void glanced out the window, looked back at his scroll, then did a double-take. 'White stuff' was indeed falling from the clouded skies.
"Heh...I never thought I'd see it here." commented Lord Void, turning back to his work.
"What is it?"
"Honestly, Jarvick, you have never heard or seen of snow?"
"That is snow?"
"Yes, though why it is falling here is beyond me. Unless BloodVaine's freak storm that froze Kingdom Isle has resurfaced, this means Dametreos is in for a cold, hard winter. Dragonar almost never gets snow so far south. I suppose that's why you've never seen it, eh, cooped away on your tropical paradise?"
Jarvick shrugged.
After another twenty minutes, Jarvick said, "I suppose I should teleport some supplies into before the snows get too heavy."
"Jarvick, are you truly that snow-illiterate?" snorted Lord Void, his quill scratching away, "Snow will not block teleportation, just like any other substance."
"With all due respect, Lord Void, this is more than snow, unless snow is always saturated in dark and dense magic."
Lord Void looked up sharply. "Magic?"
Then his face fell. "Alas, the burden of my magicnessless hits home again. I feel nothing."
Jarvick stood, his movements now urgent. "We should..."
He stopped, the grabbed his staff. Muttering incantations, Jarvick grabbed his staff hard until bundles of food, bolts of cloth and cords of wood appeared on top of another, cluttering the room more.
"Jarvick, calm do-"
There was a crack, and the parcels stopped coming. A smell of sulfur filled the air. Lord Void jumped forward and grabbed a particular bag. Or, at least, what was half a bag. The rough burlap suddenly ended in a blackened smear, the smear of an object that has been wrenched from on dimension to the next.
"That's it..." Jarvick moaned gravely, "I'm as powerless as you. This so-called snow has blocked my sense of the Mana."
"Then here we must stay until the snow melts." replied Lord Void gravely, "The snow has already blocked the door."
Majisto's Workshop
Among piles of scrolls, dust, and half-eaten bread, two voices penetrated the deep silence.
"Lord Void?"
"What is it, Jarvick?"
"I think this land has been cursed."
"How so?"
"What is that white stuff that is falling from the sky?"
The question was so odd Lord Void looked up from his scroll covered in Orcish scrawls.
"White stuff?" he queried, adjusting his monocle.
"Look."
Lord Void glanced out the window, looked back at his scroll, then did a double-take. 'White stuff' was indeed falling from the clouded skies.
"Heh...I never thought I'd see it here." commented Lord Void, turning back to his work.
"What is it?"
"Honestly, Jarvick, you have never heard or seen of snow?"
"That is snow?"
"Yes, though why it is falling here is beyond me. Unless BloodVaine's freak storm that froze Kingdom Isle has resurfaced, this means Dametreos is in for a cold, hard winter. Dragonar almost never gets snow so far south. I suppose that's why you've never seen it, eh, cooped away on your tropical paradise?"
Jarvick shrugged.
After another twenty minutes, Jarvick said, "I suppose I should teleport some supplies into before the snows get too heavy."
"Jarvick, are you truly that snow-illiterate?" snorted Lord Void, his quill scratching away, "Snow will not block teleportation, just like any other substance."
"With all due respect, Lord Void, this is more than snow, unless snow is always saturated in dark and dense magic."
Lord Void looked up sharply. "Magic?"
Then his face fell. "Alas, the burden of my magicnessless hits home again. I feel nothing."
Jarvick stood, his movements now urgent. "We should..."
He stopped, the grabbed his staff. Muttering incantations, Jarvick grabbed his staff hard until bundles of food, bolts of cloth and cords of wood appeared on top of another, cluttering the room more.
"Jarvick, calm do-"
There was a crack, and the parcels stopped coming. A smell of sulfur filled the air. Lord Void jumped forward and grabbed a particular bag. Or, at least, what was half a bag. The rough burlap suddenly ended in a blackened smear, the smear of an object that has been wrenched from on dimension to the next.
"That's it..." Jarvick moaned gravely, "I'm as powerless as you. This so-called snow has blocked my sense of the Mana."
"Then here we must stay until the snow melts." replied Lord Void gravely, "The snow has already blocked the door."