Friday, May 1, 2009

Magical Backpack Is Magical

Thin droplets of icy mist needle my face, quickly becoming painful as I settle my dragon into a tight, steep spiral towards the camp below. I welcome the pain, as it reminds me that I'm in control. Calling upon the power of demons can be quite fragmenting to one's mind. Sometimes it's refreshing to be reminded that I am indeed still human.

At the last moment, I pull up hard on the dragon's reigns, causing her to spread her large wings out majestically and hover for a second before lightly touching down. Gusts from her wings startle the nearby horses, who whinny in protest. The stable master shoots me a glare of annoyance in response.

Guy's a jerk anyways, I recall. Weren't they all? I mean they sit around all day and make you take their crappy horse out and do battle on it. I have a perfectly good steed, thank you very much. It has big spikes and flaming hooves. What do you have? That's what I thought... nothing! Did you steal your steed from a Demonic Lord? I think not.

Reaching into my magic backpack, I withdraw the wooden lance and shield combination that had been given to me back at the tournament grounds. Don't ask me how the over sized lance fit in there... magic backpacks are magic. Striding over towards the annoyed stable master, I ignore his glare as I pick out which one of his plain and uninteresting steeds I'll be torturing for the next ten minutes.

Near the fence surrounding the makeshift camp, I spot a bridled horse that looks more pissed to be here than I am, if that's possible. Perfect. I approach the horse and grab it roughly by the reigns, expecting it to shy away or rebel against my authority. It just stares angrily back at me. This is going to be fun.

Hopping into the saddle, I guide the horse out of the busy camp and into the wasteland that is Icecrown. The chilly sleet continues to pelt my head, so I flip my hood up, taking care to avoid the heavy gem as it flings down towards my nose. Looking around, I survey the area. There seems to be nothing except frozen rocks and uneven tundra. The lack of living things resonates deeply with me in a way that only a warlock could understand. Or maybe one of those undead fellas. They're a smelly lot, but I'm generally okay with that. Nothing that a little fire can't cure.

I decide I'd better go about activating my magical defenses. Who knows what's hiding out here, right? Icecrown isn't exactly know as the "friendly" zone (OOC: though it is of Texian size). Reciting the spell taught to me back at the tournament grounds takes only a minimal focus, and I am quickly rewarded with a red magical shield revolving around my body. Now, I'm not too crazy about the aesthetics of this spell, as I'm far more partial to fire and shadow, but at least it's red. Still, I don't understand why a spell meant to protect my steed orbits me, but I guess you'll have that when you trust those damned elven sorcerers for magical advice. The nether addicts.

I was about to repeat the spell again for added protection when a bolt of lightning from the sky slices down through the air, zapping my horse in the butt and removing the protective spell I had just cast. What in the unholy hell was that? I look around for the source and spot an ugly looking gargoyle hovering about a stone's throw away. Reaching into my magical backpack, I'm amazed to find a short spear inside, presumably made for throwing from horseback. I don't remember putting that in there, but I suppose stranger things have happened. I mean, magical backpacks are magical, right? Besides, there was this one time with a Dwarven barmaid...


Right, annoying gargoyle. Focus.

I chuck the spear at the gargoyle, hitting it in the face and dropping like a stone. Hitting the ground, it shattered into a plethora of small pebbles. That was easy, I thought. Then, since I appeared to be alone again, I decided to go about recasting the protection spell.


Another one? Seriously, these things are really annoying. Reaching into my bag, I withdraw another one of those crazy spears and hurl it at the flying creature. Once again, I was rewarded with a very scattered pile of pebbles.

*Zzzaap! Zzzaaap!*

What the hell? Two more? Were these things breeding or what? I guess we did just have the Noblegarden celebration, and that's all about new life, right? No wonder I hate it...

My already peeved horse is starting to get really irritated at my lack of provided protection, and stirs restlessly under me as if to emphasize the point. I reach into my backpack to grab two more spears and take care of this annoyance.

*Zap! Zap! Zap!*

My horse, completely unenthusiastic about the situation we now find ourselves in, decides to rear up, shucking me from its back and sending me unceremoniously to the ground. With one angry glance back at me, he trots back towards the camp with an almost contemptuous gait.

*Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap!*

Aw, hell no! My horse is gone, you did NOT just shock me you little bastards. You're making me angry, and trust me, you won't like me when I'm angry.

*Zap! Zap!*

All right, that's enough of this shit! I quickly cast the spell to call upon my full demon powers, transforming my visage into a horrific winged terror. Violet lightning crackles along my shadowy body as I stretch my wings out menacingly. Let's do this.

Quickly I cast the spell to corrupt each of their souls, following quickly with a curse of agony. As they begin squirm uncomfortably in the air, I fan my rage into to full inferno, surrounding my body with a furious green flame. Charging the lot of them, I engulf them in the green fire, delighting in their horrific squeals.

Mmmm fire... *Fwoosh*

Several charred corpses drop to the ground, disintegrating into ash at my feet. Ash, not pebbles, that's more like it.

*Fwoosh Fwoosh Fwoosh Fwoosh*

Breathing heavily, I survey the scene around me. Naught is left but some lose pebbles and a whole lot of ash. Even as I watch, the steady Icecrown wind begins to scatter these remains, leaving little evidence of the slaughter that just occurred.

The sleet begins to sting my face again, alerting me that I've reverted to my human form. One can only stay a demon for a short period of time before permanent corruption occurs, you know. Sighing longingly at the aching void left by my more powerful form, I call for my dragon.

Gracefully, she swoops down from high in the sky where she'd been circling... or doing whatever it is my dragon does when I don't need her. What a beautiful creature, I think as she lands lightly in front of me, a faint flame smoldering in her nostrils. Heat radiates from her body as I climb on her back before patting her lightly and we take to the air, heading back towards the makeshift camp.

That horse and I are going to have words...


  1. Did you steal your steed from a Demonic Lord? I think not.

    <3 <3 <3

    Love that line.

  2. I must admit, that was pretty cool! (I've never done much RP'ish reading hehe)

    Very nicely done!

  3. TY both - I've just been doing this 'cuz its fun and flexes the ole creative writing muscle. I don't really RP much but do sometimes think about how pissed my character must be at doing some of this stuff. ;-)

  4. *Purses her lips, glaring at Fulguralis* Excuse me, 'nether addicts?' I mean, I understand being suspicious of mages and their arcane magic... but watch how you talk about elven women that teach you protection spells.

    *crosses her arms in a huff*

    I can't believe they upgraded you from the wooden training lance. I mean, I know these tasks are dreadful, but...

    (Loved it! :D P.S. my word verification is 'bacon' lol)