(no subject)
Pineapple #21. Wait Until I Give the Signal with Hot Fudge
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1270
Word Count : 1014
Rune looked from the map with its promise of civilization a good two days’ travel from where they stood to the real road the squiggle under his thumb represented, a broad track of beaten earth cut through the overgrown prairie, and sighed. “Where’s the temple when you need it?”
The grin Reida flashed him had him regretting those words. “You want the temple?” she said. “That shouldn’t be too hard to arrange.”
With a hand curled around the back of his neck, Rune gave his companion a sidelong look. “How do you figure?”
Reida shrugged as if the answer were obvious. “It comes when it thinks you’re in danger.”
“While I appreciate the value of having a traveling building that comes to my rescue, I don’t really see how we can make practical use of this.” Assuming that would be the end of things, he folded the map shut and stuffed it into his bag, which he then slung over his shoulder, and started down the road.
“Ah,” said Reida, shouldering her own pack as she scurried to match his pace. “But this means you can summon it.”
Rune did his best to ignore her as she pulled her cloak open and started rummaging about inside. “I’m not about to put myself in danger every time you think it might be convenient to use the temple for a lift. Besides, we don’t know how it decides where to put us down either. We could wind up even further away from wherever we’re going than we started.”
“We’ll get to that part later. Now give me your hand.”
There was no ignoring the knife clutched in her fist now, with one of her sigil-lined cloths bunched around its hilt, or the eager look she was facing him with as she held out her other hand. “So we’re skipping straight past danger and on to injury? I think not.”
Reida rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to be injured; the temple is just going to think you are.”
“With my hand and a knife,” said Rune, edging a bit further away. “I fail to see what part of my being injured you’re intending to fake.”
“If you want to call a prick an injury. I need a drop of blood. Don’t trust me, you can get it yourself.” She flipped the knife to her other hand and held it out, hilt first, where Rune still eyed it warily. “And put it on this,” she added, waving the cloth.
Rune stopped and Reida skidded to a halt beside him. “And this will bring the temple to us?” he said, taking the knife, and wondering as he did so why he was even still listening to her.
Reida shrugged, though her eyes lit up as she watched him unfold and examine the cloth. “It’s worth a try. At least I figure it is. I suppose maybe it’s a bit of a sacrifice on your part.”
Rune waved her off. “I think I’ll live.” He pressed the tip of a finger to the tip of the blade and a drop of blood welled from it. He quickly pressed it to the center ring, leaving a blotch among the lines. He pressed his thumb to the cut and, with little more effort than a breath, sealed it. “Now what?”
“Activate it.”
“That’s it?” He touched the edge of the sigil and felt the pop and hum of the spell. He turned slowly in place, scanning the fields for the squat stone building and finding only grass. “No temple,” he said, as if Reida couldn’t see that for herself. “But what’s that smell?”
“What do you think it is?” said Reida, and he supposed he should have phrased his question a bit more carefully. “It’s blood.”
“Obviously,” said Rune, and she snickered at him. “Why does it stink of blood?’
“The forms spread whatever is on them through the air. I wouldn’t go repeating that around anything you might make hungry with it,” she added with a grin.
Rune sniffed. “I suppose not. Still,” he said, turning the cloth about for a better look, “this could be useful for other things.”
Reida wasn’t listening. She slipped the knife from his hand and squatted in the middle of the path to use the pommel as a drawing tool in the dust. “I’ve got another idea.”
Over the top of the cloth, Rune watched her sketch a large, rough form.
“Step in,” she said, when it was done.
“And then what?”
“And then nothing. Here, I’ll show you.” She stepped carefully over her shallow lines into the ring and turned to face him with her hands on her hips. “Go on, activate it.”
Rune knelt and touched the rim. Not even a pop. “Nothing,” he said, pushing himself back to his feet. “But I don’t see how that proves anything.”
“Oh?”
“That’s a basic death form and well, you’re not me.”
“Oh! Been paying attention, have you?” Rune met her giddy grin with a scowl, and she rolled her eyes. “Just get in, would you,” she said, picking her way back out of the form.
“Fine.”
He took her place in the ring, and Reida got down on her knees and laid her hands along the rim. The lines flared gold, but instead of the usual pop and thrum, it was as if the whole world got quieter and everything around him went a bit hazy at the edges.
Rune shook his head, though the effects seemed to be clearing already. “So, what did it-”
“Shhh!” said Reida, as if they were hunting something one might scare away with a few words or sudden movements. Grinning ear to ear, she pointed behind him.
Rune turned slowly around to find the temple firmly planted in the grass, just a few paces from the other side of the road, and the mammoth oak that always accompanied it beside it, as if it had always been there.
“Well, what do you know,” said Reida, as Rune shook his head again. “Looks like someone got our message.”
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1270
Word Count : 1014
Rune looked from the map with its promise of civilization a good two days’ travel from where they stood to the real road the squiggle under his thumb represented, a broad track of beaten earth cut through the overgrown prairie, and sighed. “Where’s the temple when you need it?”
The grin Reida flashed him had him regretting those words. “You want the temple?” she said. “That shouldn’t be too hard to arrange.”
With a hand curled around the back of his neck, Rune gave his companion a sidelong look. “How do you figure?”
Reida shrugged as if the answer were obvious. “It comes when it thinks you’re in danger.”
“While I appreciate the value of having a traveling building that comes to my rescue, I don’t really see how we can make practical use of this.” Assuming that would be the end of things, he folded the map shut and stuffed it into his bag, which he then slung over his shoulder, and started down the road.
“Ah,” said Reida, shouldering her own pack as she scurried to match his pace. “But this means you can summon it.”
Rune did his best to ignore her as she pulled her cloak open and started rummaging about inside. “I’m not about to put myself in danger every time you think it might be convenient to use the temple for a lift. Besides, we don’t know how it decides where to put us down either. We could wind up even further away from wherever we’re going than we started.”
“We’ll get to that part later. Now give me your hand.”
There was no ignoring the knife clutched in her fist now, with one of her sigil-lined cloths bunched around its hilt, or the eager look she was facing him with as she held out her other hand. “So we’re skipping straight past danger and on to injury? I think not.”
Reida rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to be injured; the temple is just going to think you are.”
“With my hand and a knife,” said Rune, edging a bit further away. “I fail to see what part of my being injured you’re intending to fake.”
“If you want to call a prick an injury. I need a drop of blood. Don’t trust me, you can get it yourself.” She flipped the knife to her other hand and held it out, hilt first, where Rune still eyed it warily. “And put it on this,” she added, waving the cloth.
Rune stopped and Reida skidded to a halt beside him. “And this will bring the temple to us?” he said, taking the knife, and wondering as he did so why he was even still listening to her.
Reida shrugged, though her eyes lit up as she watched him unfold and examine the cloth. “It’s worth a try. At least I figure it is. I suppose maybe it’s a bit of a sacrifice on your part.”
Rune waved her off. “I think I’ll live.” He pressed the tip of a finger to the tip of the blade and a drop of blood welled from it. He quickly pressed it to the center ring, leaving a blotch among the lines. He pressed his thumb to the cut and, with little more effort than a breath, sealed it. “Now what?”
“Activate it.”
“That’s it?” He touched the edge of the sigil and felt the pop and hum of the spell. He turned slowly in place, scanning the fields for the squat stone building and finding only grass. “No temple,” he said, as if Reida couldn’t see that for herself. “But what’s that smell?”
“What do you think it is?” said Reida, and he supposed he should have phrased his question a bit more carefully. “It’s blood.”
“Obviously,” said Rune, and she snickered at him. “Why does it stink of blood?’
“The forms spread whatever is on them through the air. I wouldn’t go repeating that around anything you might make hungry with it,” she added with a grin.
Rune sniffed. “I suppose not. Still,” he said, turning the cloth about for a better look, “this could be useful for other things.”
Reida wasn’t listening. She slipped the knife from his hand and squatted in the middle of the path to use the pommel as a drawing tool in the dust. “I’ve got another idea.”
Over the top of the cloth, Rune watched her sketch a large, rough form.
“Step in,” she said, when it was done.
“And then what?”
“And then nothing. Here, I’ll show you.” She stepped carefully over her shallow lines into the ring and turned to face him with her hands on her hips. “Go on, activate it.”
Rune knelt and touched the rim. Not even a pop. “Nothing,” he said, pushing himself back to his feet. “But I don’t see how that proves anything.”
“Oh?”
“That’s a basic death form and well, you’re not me.”
“Oh! Been paying attention, have you?” Rune met her giddy grin with a scowl, and she rolled her eyes. “Just get in, would you,” she said, picking her way back out of the form.
“Fine.”
He took her place in the ring, and Reida got down on her knees and laid her hands along the rim. The lines flared gold, but instead of the usual pop and thrum, it was as if the whole world got quieter and everything around him went a bit hazy at the edges.
Rune shook his head, though the effects seemed to be clearing already. “So, what did it-”
“Shhh!” said Reida, as if they were hunting something one might scare away with a few words or sudden movements. Grinning ear to ear, she pointed behind him.
Rune turned slowly around to find the temple firmly planted in the grass, just a few paces from the other side of the road, and the mammoth oak that always accompanied it beside it, as if it had always been there.
“Well, what do you know,” said Reida, as Rune shook his head again. “Looks like someone got our message.”