Hall of Infinite Doors
"STOP!" you shout desperately. You collapse on to the ground, gasping for breath.
"Are ye tired, milord?" Sigord asks you. You give him a dirty look.
"I require rest," you explain, "I have traveled for many days through the, um, 'Spirit World' to get here. I am weary."
"Ah. I see." Sigord looks slightly disappointed. You can tell he wants to find Nifilim as quickly as possible. "Alright then. It is nearing dusk. Let us camp." The rest of the warriors give a cheer, bring out several casks of alcohol and start guzzling down.
"At least make a fire before ye drink to yur deathbeds!" Sigord roars. The warriors look at Sigord for a few moments, then push a younger man out from the crowd.
"C'mon Haliul, Sigord wants ye to build a fire." the warriors chuckle a bit and continue to shower themselves in their beer. Haliul is much younger than the rest of the warriors, he is probably only a few years older than you. He is massive, though, and looks weathered, but because of his age you can guess that he isn't as well respected by the rest.
Haliul walks over to a pack, retrieves a bundle of wood, and throws it into a pile in the middle of the clearing of bones. Taking out what looks like a flint rock and drawing his sword, he scrapes the rock on the blade and produces a shower of sparks. Within a few minutes, the warrior has the fire brazing brightly.
Night soon comes.
You lay there and watch the group. Sigord is talking intently with another warrior whose name you do not yet know. Thiorek, Haliul and a few others are sitting together and laughing about something. The rest of the men are sleeping like stones, drunk out of their minds. There are about twenty of them, each one ragged and weary,
seeming far older than they really are. But from each of their eyes shines a flame, a sleepless power. Even now they are ready for anything that might cross them.
You notice that the warriors seem to be keeping their distance from you; perhaps they find themselves unworthy to be around you. You shake your head and watch them from the shadows. What have you gotten yourself into? You understand that you cannot keep this charade up for long; sooner or later they will look to you for aid that you cannot possibly give. You consider telling them all, right then, right now, of the truth. But you know how angry they all will be. Who knows what they will do to you?
You are surprised and jolted from your thoughts when Thiorek sits beside you. From his breath you can immediately tell that he is very drunk.
"Would ye mind if an...unWORTHY speck like me sat beside ye, milord?" Thiorek grins, revealing rows of yellow teeth.
"No," you say uncomfortably, "I don't mind."
Thiorek leans forward and whispers in your ear, "Ye don't fool me, boy. I ought to spill yur blood NOW..." Thiorek's nasty grin leaves him, "But I know that Sigord will cut off me head for that, that damned FOOl... " he waves his arm dramatically, "ALL of them...FOOLS. But know that ye have put yerself in a nasty situation. Sooner or later they will find ye out... they will know as I do--"
"THIOREK!" Sigord roars. Thiorek jumps in his seat and turns to face Sigord's angry features. "What the DEVIL do ye think yur DOING?"
"Jus' paying me respects." Thiorek grins and swaggers off. Sigord watches him furiously for a few moments, then turns to you. "He may be a burden on our journey. Should we get rid of him?"
« Go Back "Are ye tired, milord?" Sigord asks you. You give him a dirty look.
"I require rest," you explain, "I have traveled for many days through the, um, 'Spirit World' to get here. I am weary."
"Ah. I see." Sigord looks slightly disappointed. You can tell he wants to find Nifilim as quickly as possible. "Alright then. It is nearing dusk. Let us camp." The rest of the warriors give a cheer, bring out several casks of alcohol and start guzzling down.
"At least make a fire before ye drink to yur deathbeds!" Sigord roars. The warriors look at Sigord for a few moments, then push a younger man out from the crowd.
"C'mon Haliul, Sigord wants ye to build a fire." the warriors chuckle a bit and continue to shower themselves in their beer. Haliul is much younger than the rest of the warriors, he is probably only a few years older than you. He is massive, though, and looks weathered, but because of his age you can guess that he isn't as well respected by the rest.
Haliul walks over to a pack, retrieves a bundle of wood, and throws it into a pile in the middle of the clearing of bones. Taking out what looks like a flint rock and drawing his sword, he scrapes the rock on the blade and produces a shower of sparks. Within a few minutes, the warrior has the fire brazing brightly.
Night soon comes.
You lay there and watch the group. Sigord is talking intently with another warrior whose name you do not yet know. Thiorek, Haliul and a few others are sitting together and laughing about something. The rest of the men are sleeping like stones, drunk out of their minds. There are about twenty of them, each one ragged and weary,
seeming far older than they really are. But from each of their eyes shines a flame, a sleepless power. Even now they are ready for anything that might cross them.
You notice that the warriors seem to be keeping their distance from you; perhaps they find themselves unworthy to be around you. You shake your head and watch them from the shadows. What have you gotten yourself into? You understand that you cannot keep this charade up for long; sooner or later they will look to you for aid that you cannot possibly give. You consider telling them all, right then, right now, of the truth. But you know how angry they all will be. Who knows what they will do to you?
You are surprised and jolted from your thoughts when Thiorek sits beside you. From his breath you can immediately tell that he is very drunk.
"Would ye mind if an...unWORTHY speck like me sat beside ye, milord?" Thiorek grins, revealing rows of yellow teeth.
"No," you say uncomfortably, "I don't mind."
Thiorek leans forward and whispers in your ear, "Ye don't fool me, boy. I ought to spill yur blood NOW..." Thiorek's nasty grin leaves him, "But I know that Sigord will cut off me head for that, that damned FOOl... " he waves his arm dramatically, "ALL of them...FOOLS. But know that ye have put yerself in a nasty situation. Sooner or later they will find ye out... they will know as I do--"
"THIOREK!" Sigord roars. Thiorek jumps in his seat and turns to face Sigord's angry features. "What the DEVIL do ye think yur DOING?"
"Jus' paying me respects." Thiorek grins and swaggers off. Sigord watches him furiously for a few moments, then turns to you. "He may be a burden on our journey. Should we get rid of him?"