|
|
Post by Child of Immanuel on Dec 29, 2005 21:08:14 GMT -5
There was no peace in the thing though. His theft tormented him, but the stone would not come off his neck. After a few hours he found himself back in the throne room, weeping. If only King Malcolm was there! Thinking back, though, he was not so sure Malcolm would relent.
He moped back to his room.
|
|
|
|
Post by kg00ds on Jan 1, 2006 10:42:42 GMT -5
Tired and frustrated he plopped down and dozed off.
|
|
|
|
Post by CynanMachae on Mar 15, 2006 19:00:35 GMT -5
To his surprise, he awoke to find that the stone was gone. Gasping, he sat up. Where was the stone? His heart beat fast as he threw the bedsheets off. He knew that he would loathe the thing when he wore it again, but now that it was missing, it's power was drawing him. He had to find it! He tore through the dressers. Scattering things about, he went on with his mad search. Sorry, but I haven't added in a while. If this contridicts anything, just change what it says.  Next... |
|
|
|
Post by karenee on Mar 16, 2006 14:52:08 GMT -5
Meanwhile, in the forest, a dark-hooded man hurried through the trees, furtively looking over his shoulder.
|
|
|
|
Post by kg00ds on Jun 22, 2006 23:01:02 GMT -5
Coming to his senses he realized it was no longer there.
Rap, rap! someone was at the door.
|
|
|
|
Post by Child of Immanuel on Jun 27, 2006 8:26:06 GMT -5
Ian peeked under the door, recognized the sandals of King Malcolm, and flung himself away with a yelp. Malcolm knocked harder as Ian desperately fled down the length of the hall-like chamber and began to clamber up the fireplace. Malcolm burst in just as Ian's legs disappeared from view.
He wandered about calling "Ian! Ian!" as the lad in question wriggled further up. The rough stone was giving him extra traction... until the chimney suddenly narrowed and he found himself stuck. The only way he would get up would be to break stones, and the only way to get down would be to lose an arm. Too humiliated to shout, he hung there feebly kicking the air.
|
|
|
|
Post by karenee on Jun 28, 2006 16:16:39 GMT -5
Malcolm noticed the black dust filtering down into the fireplace and chuckled to himself. "Young man, it seems you have what you justly deserve. I will go in search of the stone. Await my return here."
Ian wriggled. "Ah, how did you know it was gone?" But noone answered. "Help! Oh, no... I'm stuck." He kicked and twisted. "Uh...help? Heeeeeeelp! Aaaagh, help me!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Child of Immanuel on Jun 29, 2006 7:20:49 GMT -5
He managed to attract some servants who stood around in a knot and cheered when he kicked down a particularly big clump of soot. Growing angrier, Ian kicked and writhed so hard that he heard a thump of stone falling. His behind was now resting on a stone ledge. Putting his hand back tentatively, he felt neither a stone wall nor the outside air, just long stone floor.
He wriggled himself into the tunnel and set off cautiously. Anything to get rid of the cheers and whistles of the servants and the humiliating dictum of King Malcolm.
|
|
