of a beautiful relationship -- VII
somewhat disoriented. He didn't understand what had just happened. He remembered
the hand on his ankle, then things went blank.
hurt his hands the way he was hanging from them on the wall. Twisting his
hands around to make them more comfortable, Skeetr could feel that they
were not very tight. The bonds of this dungeon were created for holding
humans and other creatures, all of which were typically much larger than
Skeetr. Twisting and flexing his wrists, with a slight dislocation of his
thumb (he could always do this on command - grossing out his sisters whenever
he made a demonstration), he freed his hands. They slipped through the
iron clasps as if they were greased and he fell to the floor.
His feet were
simply tied with rope. His legs were not long enough to reach the shackles
that were in place to hold someone's feet - the mage had to improvise.
The knots were not easily undone because they were tied with some force.
Skeetr was not sure how long he had slept, but was surprised that he felt
very alert and refreshed - it must have been a deep sleep. His fingers
ached less than before, this gave him a little more strength in his hands
and he was able to free his feet.
over to the table that stood in the middle of the room. He stuffed a cooked
fowl leg in his mouth and tried to grab a small green dagger off the table.
The knife was far too heavy for Skeetr to lift so he left it. The door
to the room was open and Skeetr dashed into the hallway, quickly spinning
his head, looking left and right, the fowl leg still dangling from his
mouth. He had no idea where the mage had brought him. Hearing a door opening
to his right made up his mind for him - he ran to the left. In a second
or two he came to the elevator shaft where he was so near escape before.
This time Skeetr intended to cash in on this little bit of good luck, knowing
- from experience - his luck would turn bad in a moment. He would get out
that hole as quickly as possible. A loud curse reverberated through the
hall, emanating from the room Skeetr had just escaped.
The mage hadn't
noticed Skeetr running around the slight turn in the hall because he was
admiring his new torturing tool, the fire prod. Thinking how he could make
the tip glow white hot and what effect it would have on flesh. Not being
an elder mage, he had not seen nor experienced any form of torturing, but
after being embarrassed by a small boy, his anger had built to the point
where he could hardly wait to start. He would also find out what this little
spy was doing in his master's palace. He stepped into the room and saw
the blank wall where Skeetr had been. He yelled out, cursing the boy and
himself at the same time. In a burst of frustration, he flashed a fireball
at the wall where it exploded leaving nicks and chars on the wall between
the hanging shackles.
The mage ran
from the room and, because he had come from the right, figured the boy
to have gone left. He bolted down the hall, casting a levitate spell on
his way and readied another fireball. As he came to the shaft opening he
saw the boy struggling at the hole. Skeetrís pack had caught again. A grin
came to the manís lips as he saw his quarry struggling.
his pack with a simple wiggle and pulled himself through the hole. He fell
six feet, somewhat sliding on the vertical surface of the wall, before
landing on a cone shaped protrusion. Skeetr gasped and - conscious of his
balance - buckled over. The cone sticking out of the wall had caught Skeetr
right between the legs.
hear a loud roar from inside the hole. The man sounded to be going quite
mad. The mage threw a fireball just as Skeetr had dropped out of site.
It exploded against the ceiling and blasted rock and debris all over. Being
pelted with more stone did nothing to improve the mageís mood. He would
have his vengeance on this boy. Seeing that the hole in the wall had grown
quite large from the fireball blast, the mage thrust himself up the shaft
and through the hole. His obsession with killing Skeetr now at it's peek.