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 Post subject: The Cell
 Post Posted: Mon Jul 30, 2012 9:50 pm 
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Joined: Wed May 04, 2011 6:50 pm
Posts: 118
Shamus reluctantly slept, the nightmares that had plagued his dreams of the last seven day returned. In this hellish dreamland, he found himself leaning broken and exhausted against a wall as shapes came rocketing into the room. He had to think of them as shapes, he supposed, for if he thought of them as the peoples of his land, some part of him knew that he would lose his grip on reality. Though there were doors in the ceiling and the floor, the bodies appeared in midair with no warning and flew, as if propelled by a catapult, into walls at random, most of them died as they struck the wall ,or that was when there screaming stopped. There were blood and parts everywhere and he found himself red with his own and others’ as he vainly attempted to save those who still breathed. Something grabbed him hard by the neck and he turned as fast as possible, ready to fight…

The guard shouted and shook Shamus “wake up you old fool”

Shamus came to his senses as his shackled arms suddenly stopped inches from the guard, not because he had stopped but due to the short chain holding them to his waist prevented it. The pain cleared his head. This was one of the robed and hooded mages who hid himself from him in his house when he had been arrested. He was to be small to be Eniad. Who was this hooded man?

The Hooded figure pulled shamus to his feet saying “The lord High Magician has a surprise for you.”
Shamus spat on the man, earning a sharp yank of his chains. And out the door they went. He was shoved down the corridor to a door that had not been there a week ago. Fionnigan stood next to the door and was smiling. Shamus couldn’t remember ever seeing the man smile, this wasn’t good!

As they approached Shamus decided to push his luck and hope Fionnigan was in a talkative mood. One of the many rules his old master had taught him was never to over explain, he hoped no one had told Fionnigan. Shamus stopped and his captor walked into his back with a curse, as Shamus exclaimed “It’s not my birthday and I get surprises.”

Fionnigan actually chuckled at that and said “you’re being sent to your new prison cell today, I hope you like it.”

Shamus countered quickly with “I hope your math is better than your gift.” He paused for a breath and continued “You do realize the havoc these spells can cause if done incorrectly?”

Fionnigan just shrugged, and replied “enough stalling I have others to deal with, throw him in.”

The door was summarily opened and Shamus was shoved through by the hooded man. Saying “good riddance to bad rubbish!”

The world spun before him. The whole of time and space spun in front of his eyes and in his ears or so it seemed. Then it stopped, with a thud. The impact had been hard but Shamus was alive barely. His first conscious thought was is there magic here. He looked at his hand the only source of light in his new tomb and smiled. His ring glowed yellow. He wasn’t in the Emerald Hills anymore or even on the prime material plane; but there was magic here.

He shifted to sit up and stopped. There was excruciating pain, his entire right side felt as if it had been set a fire . Shamus’s body was shattered, yet his mind was intact as of yet. He breathed, relaxed, and ignored the pain. He must cast spells regardless of the danger, for even simplest spells could draw unwanted visitors to him. The void harbored no true life, but it teemed with unlife. He would start with the simpler spells and restore himself. Then when the time was right the great spells and escape. Shamus gathered his strength and started to cast:
"Gladius Cut, hastam confodere, clavam has, sagitta PUNCTUM,
Sit album lux sanitatum descendere in te.
Gladio Cut, hastam confodere, clavam has, sagitta PUNCTUM,
Sit album lux sanitatum prohibere tuum effusionis sanguinem
Gladio Cut, hastam confodere, clavam has, sagitta PUNCTUM,
Sit album lux sanitatum mendacium tuum ossa.
Gladio Cut, hastam confodere, clavam has, sagitta PUNCTUM,
Sit album lux curandi proxima tua vulnera.
Gladio Cut, hastam confodere, clavam has, sagitta PUNCTUM,
Sit album lux sanitatum reddere tuum vigor.
Gladio Cut, hastam confodere, clavam has, sagitta PUNCTUM,
Album lux sanitatum te sanavit. "


Shamus breathed a sigh of relief, the pain was gone. Now for light:

eorum esse lux.

The cell was similar to his dream. Just a square cell with two doors one on the ceiling on on the floor. There was blood on the wall! It was Shamus’s blood of course, There was only shamus’s blood so far!

Fionnigan hadn’t gotten the math perfect. Had he intentionally placed Shamus in an area of the void where magic worked or had that been an additional error or necessary evil. Shamus didn’t know the answer, if he ever got his hands on Fionnigan maybe he’d ask him, but killing him, bringing him back and repeating sounded so much better. But if shamus was honest with himself he would just change the combination on the cell he had been in and throw Fionnigan in with a cask of rotting fish for company. He would not kill Fionnigan. One of his compatriots would just summon his corpse, and resurrect him.
There were ways out of the void after all if you were prepared.Shamus was prepared. But it wasn’t time yet. The phrase who are you, what do you know, kept running through his head. He needed to solve this riddle before he left.

The temperature was dropping, he was getting sleepy, something was coming, and something was probably hungry. Everything had consequences, he was about to pay for healing himself.


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 Post subject: Re: The Cell
 Post Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2012 11:38 pm 
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Joined: Wed May 04, 2011 6:50 pm
Posts: 118
The time had finally come for Shamus to leave this place. The last few days had been problematic, but the void stalkers had been dealt with and he had survived… barely.

He looked down at his left thigh resolutely, having always thought that when the time came for this he would at least have a blade in his possession. No such luck. The walls and the floor appeared to be some type of mortar, however, so his fingernails would just have to do. Regardless of the fact that he usually kept them short, he sharpened them carefully on a wall. Every advantage that he could come up with would increase his chance of success in the task to come.

Propping his back against the wall, he began to meditate on the task at hand. He had used this process often to control pain on the field of battle – allowing him to continue casting magic – and this task was no less important or difficult. Tearing his own leg open like an animal trapped in a snare would take all of his not inconsiderable will. He snorted softly with amusement as the thought crossed his mind that he was – in a way – an animal caught in a snare.

He steeled himself and began by scratching open the bottom of his leg, pressing his nails as deeply as possible into the skin. Blood trickled sluggishly from the scratches and would only get worse as the pain mounted in the limb. He could only hope that this would be worth the effort.

Again and again he drew his blunt but sharpened nails down the same line of flesh, pausing only to sharpen them again from time to time. The line he drew down the back of his own femur grew more bold by the moment, weeping tears that collected slowly around his seat. He didn’t stop, didn’t give himself a moment to think about what he was doing, but hoped that he would soon have passed deep enough to tear the muscle itself.

Thoughts of his wife and son having to live on without him were all that could keep him through the long moments between pauses to see if he had completed the task he had set himself. After what felt as though hours had passed, he had what he had so desperately needed. Digging his fingers into the tear in his muscles, he tugged once… twice… three times and was rewarded by the separation of the muscle from the bone.

At last he could take hold of the slender, blood washed tube with his gore encrusted fingers and draw it from the flesh through great effort and agony. Even breathing heavily through the pain, he could take pride in the craftsmanship that had hidden this one salvation next to the bone of his leg.


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 Post subject: Re: The Cell
 Post Posted: Wed Aug 22, 2012 11:26 pm 
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Joined: Wed May 04, 2011 6:50 pm
Posts: 118
Shamus crudely bound his wound with pieces of his robe. Promptly and cautiously getting to work he drew a pentagram on the floor with his own blood. Then while light headedness was coming upon him he healed himself. The first step in his escape complete Shamus could afford to rest for a few minutes.

Shamus broke the crystalline tube into its component pieces. A section containing the gasses from his home fire , a piece with the blood of his wife , a cubit of earth from Cuiviedor Amarth, and a small candle from the shrine of Belimawr, the final piece contained a fine scrimshaw etching of his wife(spirit), each of these pieces would go into a section of the pentagram. The placement of these pieces along with his life bond to Allysiandra would be the prime material components to allow him to open a portal back to his plane. Now his body and mind just needed to fuel and direct the opening.
Shamus incanted a circle of protection around the pentagram, then placed the pieces of crystal in there pertinent positions. It had been years since he had this ancient arcane articulation, yet it was as fresh in his mind as when the Elvin Enchantress Entwistle taught it to him.

Shamus speculated on how much time had passed beyond the rift and started his calculations for the cacophony of spells he was preparing to commence casting. The mental exercises of these magical mystical motions cleared the last remnants of enervation from Shamus mind. The moment heralding his escape was at hand. The return to Shamus’ prime material was not a surety, yet there was little else he could do but pray to the Dagda that he would succeed.

Shamus started the incantation, and the light in the circle changed to red. The floor beneath him started to glow green as he continued the floor steadily lightened to a pure azure fire. The illumination in the circle was almost as painful with the tempest of heat and tornadic winds within, and Shamus obstinately continued. Truly he had no choice, for to stop was certain death. Onward he chanted, and then at the moment of completion he fell.

Shamus fell through the hole between worlds, and cascaded through the portal on the other side. Tucking and rolling as he impacted the lush forested floor in Cuiviedor Amarth. He was free. He was home.

Allys’siandra rushed to him, and Shamus passed out moments later from his exertions knowing he was safe in his wife’s arms.


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