S.Y. 317.5
(April 6, 2003)
Awakening
By Sardel
From Sardel's
Journal
In
a small dark room a beam of light poured through a crack on the wall,
focusing it's energy on the face of a sleeping man. Sardel groggily
opened his eyes. It had been days since he had a clear thought. Sardel
faintly remembered a sea voyage, he had felt the steady rocking of the
ship as it sailed forth from Yew. Lack of food and constant drugging
had kept his thoughts dull but his captor seemeded to have forgotten
to apply such measures this last eve. Captor he thought, Sardel didn't
even know who held him and for what purpose.
One thing was clear to Sardel. He remembered the night of the bazaar,
he remembered stumbling along through the Spiritwood trying to make
his way home before a local farmer brought him in. All doubt was removed
from his mind. He had not killed Reebdoog.
Why then the elaborate plot? Who could gain by his demise Sardel pondered.
Despite the seriousness of the situation Sardel chuckled to himself.
There were at least a half a dozen folk who wouldn't mind seeing him
dead. His big mouth had created enough enemies to last a lifetime. Strange
he thought. He had always figured it would be straight forward, like
a knife to chest. Not some scheme to discredit his name.
Better to ponder such matters later he thought. His captor could return
at any moment and notice his level of alertness. Any thoughts of escape
needed to be conducted quickly and efficently. Sardel took a quick bearing
of the room in which he found himself. Outside of the lightbeam coming
through the crack in the wall there was no other source of light present.
Sardel slowly paced around the room feeling the texture of the walls
and measuring the perimeter of the cell.
It was a small stone room, roughly six by six feet. There was a door
made of metal on one end. The room had an earthy smell to it and a small
tapping sound vibrated through the stone so that it could faintly be
heard. It was a rythmic sound...*crack, crack, crack*.
Discouraged by what he found, Sardel took a quick inventory of his belongings.
Outside of his clothing he possesed no reagents or runes.
A quick exit would not be possible it seemed. While pacing around the
room Sardel's boot caught something soft. He bent over and picked up
the object. It was Sardel's blue feather cap. Sardel grinned broadly
in the dark. Though often seen as a terrible fashion statement the hat
provided a valueable source of magic for Sardel.
Excitedly Sardel plucked the feather from the hat and felt the hat dissipate
into small motes of glowing dust. Sardel gathered as much of the dust
as possible and spread it over the feather. Speaking an arcane tongue
not native to Sosaria he placed the feather in the crack and watched
as it shot towards the surface.
The feather wriggled up the crack and out into the open where it transformed
into a hawk that set off for Skara Brae. The hawk's flight was true
and speedy, aided by the magic of Sardel's homeland. As the hawk approached
it circled the town hall and entered through an open window where it
settled on the council room's table.
With a flash the hawk disappeared and in it's place sat Sardel's blue
feathered cap. Dust fluttered off the cap that had become encrusted
with a thick red clay to form a pattern on the table. I.O.N.M.C