It's only a three day weekend in Malta, oddly enough (as it is a very Catholic country), but given the sheer number of public holidays they have, it's a good thing :) Orthodox Easter also isn't for another week, so if you fancy two four-day weekends in a row tell work you've converted to Orthodox Christianity next Tuesday :)
Unfinished Whatever Rystin did -- Fabian was pretty sure that he didn't know how you were supposed to perform magic -- the effect was dramatic. The stone altar seemed to flicker momentarily, as though it wasn't quite real, and then Rystin changed. His feet altered first, his boots turning from soft, brown, mud-stained leather to shiny steel armoured boots and the change moved steadily up his body. By the time Fabian had counted ten heart-beats the change was at Rystin's waist: from the top down he looked like the Rust-elf artificer and from the waist down he looked like a armoured knight. It took several seconds more before it reached the top of his head. "You look like one of my figurines!" said Fabian, finally recognising what was in front of him. Rystin stepped down off the altar and Fabian heard the clank of metal plates pressing together and the rustle of soft cloth joints. He stepped a little way from Fabian and drew a sword from a scabbard at his side; the blade seemed to gleam in a ray of sunlight that found its way through the leafy canopy above at just the right moment and he swung it easily one-handed. There was a swish of parting air and the snick of something cutting and the grass around Rystin's legs was suddenly half the length it had been. Fabian wanted to go and pick it up but he felt strongly that getting too close to the sword was a bad idea. He looked at the altar and then back at Rystin, his eyes now drawn to the helmet where tiny twinkles of light suggested there might be eyes hidden within the visor. "That's amazing," he said. "How long does it last for?" "Does what last for?" asked the knight and Fabian frowned. He knew that he'd asked the question for a reason but now that he thought about it, it made no sense. "I've no idea," he admitted. "I must have been thinking of something else. We were... going somewhere?" "You're not dressed properly," said the knight, and Fabian looked down at himself. The knight was right, where was his armour? "Oh! I should put my armour on!" He looked around and again felt a sense of puzzlement. Where had he left his armour? He took a step away and then another and then halted. A tiny niggling voice in the back of his mind was asking him why he should be wearing armour. He hesitated, took another step and then looked back at the knight. "Should I be wearing armour?" he asked. The altar flickered again. "Rystin"? he said, but there was only the knight there.
The knight turned and suddenly the armour faded away and Rystin was stood back there again. The grass around his feet was as tall as it had always been, and there was no sword in his hand. "That was impressive," said Rystin. "You resisted the spell. It was unfinished, and it took you a while, but you resisted it." "Is that unusual?" Fabian was already wondering how he could tell people that he could resist wisp-elf magic without sounding boastful. Rystin waggled a hand in the air at about waist-height, his palm aligned with the floor. "Some people are better than others," he said. "Some practically never resist, others will fight it to their dying breath without knowing about it. You did quite well though, for someone with no training."
Greg - well I've been sick all week, so the weekend has been extra long (even if I've worked part days from home... but I finally took today completely off). We'll see how tomorrow goes.
Aw, I kinda wanted to see Fabian get all kitted out in a knight's suit of armor and go marching into town before Rystin let him off the hook...
2 comments:
It's only a three day weekend in Malta, oddly enough (as it is a very Catholic country), but given the sheer number of public holidays they have, it's a good thing :) Orthodox Easter also isn't for another week, so if you fancy two four-day weekends in a row tell work you've converted to Orthodox Christianity next Tuesday :)
Unfinished
Whatever Rystin did -- Fabian was pretty sure that he didn't know how you were supposed to perform magic -- the effect was dramatic. The stone altar seemed to flicker momentarily, as though it wasn't quite real, and then Rystin changed. His feet altered first, his boots turning from soft, brown, mud-stained leather to shiny steel armoured boots and the change moved steadily up his body. By the time Fabian had counted ten heart-beats the change was at Rystin's waist: from the top down he looked like the Rust-elf artificer and from the waist down he looked like a armoured knight. It took several seconds more before it reached the top of his head.
"You look like one of my figurines!" said Fabian, finally recognising what was in front of him. Rystin stepped down off the altar and Fabian heard the clank of metal plates pressing together and the rustle of soft cloth joints. He stepped a little way from Fabian and drew a sword from a scabbard at his side; the blade seemed to gleam in a ray of sunlight that found its way through the leafy canopy above at just the right moment and he swung it easily one-handed. There was a swish of parting air and the snick of something cutting and the grass around Rystin's legs was suddenly half the length it had been. Fabian wanted to go and pick it up but he felt strongly that getting too close to the sword was a bad idea. He looked at the altar and then back at Rystin, his eyes now drawn to the helmet where tiny twinkles of light suggested there might be eyes hidden within the visor.
"That's amazing," he said. "How long does it last for?"
"Does what last for?" asked the knight and Fabian frowned. He knew that he'd asked the question for a reason but now that he thought about it, it made no sense.
"I've no idea," he admitted. "I must have been thinking of something else. We were... going somewhere?"
"You're not dressed properly," said the knight, and Fabian looked down at himself. The knight was right, where was his armour?
"Oh! I should put my armour on!" He looked around and again felt a sense of puzzlement. Where had he left his armour? He took a step away and then another and then halted. A tiny niggling voice in the back of his mind was asking him why he should be wearing armour. He hesitated, took another step and then looked back at the knight.
"Should I be wearing armour?" he asked. The altar flickered again. "Rystin"? he said, but there was only the knight there.
The knight turned and suddenly the armour faded away and Rystin was stood back there again. The grass around his feet was as tall as it had always been, and there was no sword in his hand.
"That was impressive," said Rystin. "You resisted the spell. It was unfinished, and it took you a while, but you resisted it."
"Is that unusual?" Fabian was already wondering how he could tell people that he could resist wisp-elf magic without sounding boastful.
Rystin waggled a hand in the air at about waist-height, his palm aligned with the floor. "Some people are better than others," he said. "Some practically never resist, others will fight it to their dying breath without knowing about it. You did quite well though, for someone with no training."
Greg - well I've been sick all week, so the weekend has been extra long (even if I've worked part days from home... but I finally took today completely off). We'll see how tomorrow goes.
Aw, I kinda wanted to see Fabian get all kitted out in a knight's suit of armor and go marching into town before Rystin let him off the hook...
Impressive bit of magic though, I must say.
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