The Lore Knights ride again! Morning Star Issue #1

The Lore Knights

Admin wrote:Stop the madman or save St Johns?

Bowcaster instinctively went for St Johns. He had to hope that the swords choose as well as were chosen and that in the case that he was wrong, he could still count on them to fight with him rather than against him.

Pulling St John's free, of the falling ceiling, he lifted him easily to his feet, glancing back at the Master and what to do next. With a thought his bow was in his hand, arrow notched and ready to fly, which it did. Another freezing arrow ready to hit the Master and stop him where he stood.


Sj

"Thanks," Gerard said. "Now take him out and let's get our swords back."

The Lore Knights

Saving St Johns had been a no brainer - unfortunately it'd delayed Bowcaster long enough that the Master was able to pull one of the swords free from the magic torrent!

And all hell broke loose!

St Johns was thrown from his feet again by a raging torrent of wind! Random magic beams blasted out heat, light, cold, all kinds of energy! The ground began shaking and rumbling the walls swaying and the ceiling finally cried enough! Bowcaster gaped for a second at the apparently giant human mouth in the ceiling that'd said the word!

The Master cried out, his hand and lower arm a mass of pustules and the fingers curled into a claw! "CURSE YOU!" he cried, then waved a pattern in the air with his good hand...

Bowcaster fired... and hit empty air as the Master vanished!

The place was truly falling apart now, and fire spat from holes that opened in the floor! Rocks rained down from above, and Peterson, waking finally, muttered "What's going on? Did we win?"

His eyes widened in terror at the falling masonry!

St Johns ducked aside as more rocks and earth fell from above! They were about to be buried! he saw a sword on the floor, instinctively knowing it was his! The thing was blazing bright white though, brim full of absorbed energy!

Then it came to him - two swords had been enough to stem the flow of magic that the Master could call on. A third would quash it completely, but was it now too late? Rainbow beams shot out from the sputtering magical torrent as it split open at random intervals.

Over the howl of the wind, Peterson shouted "Should I take the other sword from the magic stream?"

Bowcaster cursed at having let the Master escape, but they had over problems right now! He had a bad feeling about that magic though - now that it's containment was breached, would it be a good thing, or a bad one if the last sword, brim full of magic itself, was taken from it?

He looked back/ The way out was no longer guarded by the two humanoids at the door! One had transformed into a 3' high snail, the other was changed into a collection of tiny flitting lights! Magic had gone wild!

The ground shook again, the walls finally giving way, and the floor split open with orange boiling heat spewing forth, as if hell itself had opened to claim those souls foolhardy enough to stick around!

The hole through which the stars could be seen, directly above the spitting, raging magical torrent, started to topple inwards... this whole place was being swallowed into the Earth!

OOC a few choices in there - sometimes its better to live to fight another day of course...

Bowcaster, had seen nothing like this in his day. In truth he was more than a little stunned by what he was seeing. He was grateful that the master hadn't been able to take advantage of the sword's power. But was even more uncertain as to what Petterson should do about withdrawing it. He'd seen what it had done to the master, what would his fate be if he was to withdraw it full of power as it was.

"Peterson I don't know what to do? If you withdraw the sword, it might kill you the amount of power it has. But we can't leave it here, England needs its champions more than ever."

With that Bowcaster took his bow and moving forward placed his hand on the sword, intending to place one in Petersons hand and then attempt to do the same with St John's. "All this talk about being a hero was no good unless one was prepared to be one." Bowcaster muttered to himself.

OOC: Here goes nothing, whatever option we takes seems filled with risk. If I leave things then we might loose the swords down here buried for ever. So I think I've got to attempt to get them back into the hands of those to whom they belong.

Sj

LORE KNIGHTS

With that Bowcaster took his bow and moving forward placed his hand on the sword, intending to place one in Petersons hand and then attempt to do the same with St John's. "All this talk about being a hero was no good unless one was prepared to be one." Bowcaster muttered to himself.

OOC: Here goes nothing, whatever option we takes seems filled with risk. If I leave things then we might loose the swords down here buried for ever. So I think I've got to attempt to get them back into the hands of those to whom they belong.

"I think we should put all three swords into the stream," Morningstar said. He repeated the pledge, summoning his power. "It might stop the flow of magic here permanently, like cauterizing a wound. I will do my best to shield us from falling debries while we do that."

LORE KNIGHTS

DavidMcMahon wrote:"I think we should put all three swords into the stream," Morningstar said. He repeated the pledge, summoning his power. "It might stop the flow of magic here permanently, like cauterizing a wound. I will do my best to shield us from falling debries while we do that."

Bowcaster stopped then nodded and set about doing what Morningstar had suggested, also being ready to make the same pledge.

Sj

The Lore Knights

With the Lore Knights agreeing to plunge their weapons into the stream, Bowcaster saw his own bow transform into a sword, taking his powers with it again! The same with Morningstars mace, as he transformed into Gerard St Johns once more!

Rocks and rubble continued to rain down from above, and the floor cracked open violently as a blinding flash dazzled all three heroes, their swords shining like the sun! The magic torrent sputtered and slowed, finally stopping as the glowing bright swords clattered to the floor... and shattered like glass into thousands of fragments!

The earthquake stopped, though dust and rubble sporadically fell.

They'd sealed the magic rift that had seen a madman and his deluded followers rise to a position of dark power, before taking it from him and closing the door to the realm of pure magic! No one would be able to use this particular door now, and all those who survived in the labyrinthine dungeon felt a wave of relief as the Masters will no longer commanded them! Those who had been transformed into strange creatures became human once more, and the piles of shattered bones scattered about the remains of the room were, sadly, laid to rest forever.

"Guess that's that then." said Harry Peterson.

Then the rest of the roof fell in!

=========

Elsewhere, Frank Burton, the man who would be 'Master' to his subjects, and Asmodeus to his enemies, closed the door behind him

"That you love? You were out a long time! Did you get the tea bags and loaf I asked for?"

Burton scowled, drenched in rain and sweat, covered in dust and dirt from the falling rocks in the room. He pulled his robes off, rolled them up and stashed them in a cupboard behind a broom, glancing to the doorway where his prattling wife's' voice had come from. 'You'll get yours' he thought. 'You and everyone else who dared belittle me!'. He moved over to the kettle, then smiled, waving a hand at it to instantly boil the water. He would return to the castle later and clean up. His magic powers were diminished thanks to those fools with the swords, but he would return later, clean up, and dispose of their bodies! Pulling the swords from the magic stream would restore it to its full flow and he would use its magic once more! He fingered the ancient amulet under his shirt, remembered how he'd come across it when he'd clubbed the antique dealer over the head with the candlestick he'd brought to pawn. Stupid old fool! He'd not known what he had! The magic had called, and the amulet had shown him the way. Opening the gate to flow of power had been the first step, then getting acolytes had been the second. Frank Burton was a weasly, horrible little man, but as the Master? None of that mattered! He could make people follow him! He had more power than he knew what to do with, and that'd been part of the problem - the magic relied on imagination, and Frank was a dreary, whining, unimaginative sort.

All that would change!

He would be a power to be reckoned with, at the head of a fearsome army! He would...

He glanced at the kettle, frowning. No whistle. He touched the side. Cold. Frantically he pulled out the amulet... no longer glowing! "Nooooo!" he cried.

"Frank? Put the kettle on love!" came that loathsome voice from the other room!

Eye flickering with rage, Frank Burton knew the three strangers had thwarted him! But he would rise again! There must be other sources of power! he would learn, and grow! The whistle of the kettle made him jump, and he got the cups out. Yes, he would rise again, and become Asmodeus, feared master of... no. He would be Beelzebub! Or maybe... he looked about.

No tea bags!

"Nooooo!" he cried.

Looking outside at the torrential, driving, freezing cold rain, Burton sighed, grabbed his coat and went out to get wet.

Like any other ordinary man would.

=========

The hand grasped onto the rubble and pulled...

Gerard St John gasped with the effort and climbed from the hole, turning to help the other two out. The place had more or less caved in, and was now a great bit crater. Others were emerging, mostly women in shock and tattered clothes. Peterson held up a piece of the swords he'd recovered, then ground it easily to dust between his fingers! "Gone!" he coughed, wiping dirt from his mouth. "Just like that! Some magic swords!"

St Johns and Moore knew different. The swords had effectively cauterised the wound that had been the flow of magic, cutting its supply to the madman who'd used its power to create an army of darkness! They'd stopped him... but the price had been high!

Peterson dusted himself off. "Ah well, back to the real world. Speaking of which..."

All three looked about. Aside from the ruined, empty castle and the moors, they seemed to be in the middle of ...

"Typical. We're in the middle of bloody nowhere." said Peterson.

The dazed women were coming out in greater numbers now, not far away.

Suddenly a young voice called out behind them. "Nowhere? Did someone call?"

The three turned to see the young lad who'd been at Caer Alwyn! Where'd he come from?

"Need a lift?" he chuckled. "Oh don't worry about them. A few miles in any direction and they'll come across a road. We're in the highlands of Scotland, though I won't pretend that a trek across miles of heathland in the rain and wind will be any fun. Serves 'em right. Their story will sound like nonsense to the Police, and you've destroyed the evidence it seems. Here..." he said, offering a hand. "Let's get you back to Caer Alywn..."

=========

Epilogue...

The old Earl chuckled, shaking his head at the tale told by the three men sat in the lounge. Nowhere Boy was stood over by the roaring fire. All three had cleaned up, changed clothes and eaten, and now having told their tale to the Earl were resigned to the fact their superheroic careers had been short lived!

"Eh? What's that you say?" said the Earl. "I think not! So long as Caer Alwyn exists, there will be Lore Knights! You see, when those swords were found, and set in the stones in the throne room downstairs, they fit in perfectly to the stone, interlocking with every intricate rune and carved line! And I had a perfect cast made of the facing out side too. Give me a week or so and you'll have new swords forged! All they were was metal, blood, sweat and tears! Nothing that can't be remade!"

The Lore Knights looked at one another in amazement...

"Once remade, set it back in the stone, say the oath and.. well, bobs your uncle! Your were chosen as the Lore Knights! The sword is a conduit, an amplifier of sorts. The Land grants the magic, and channels it through the sword into you, granting you your terrific powers! So by all means, have a rest, get back to your lives. Gerard, son, you'll start to learn the ins and outs of becoming landed gentry I hope! You two are welcome to stay - I have an extensive library that needs cataloguing and for which I'll pay a wage, young Moore, and Mr Peterson here will be welcome in the area as a recruiter for the armed forces. I've already sorted that out!" he tapped the side of his nose "Helps to be connected y'know!"

"So the Lore Knights will ride again." stated Nowhere Boy, leaning against the fire place. "I'm glad, and I hope I've repaid some of my debt that I owe for the wrongs I've done. For now though..."

The voice was young, but the eyes told a different story. Of a man who'd crossed time and space, unleashed a terrible evil on all of reality and had dedicated his life to stopping that evil. This day though, he knew Britain was a safer place, with men such as these to defend her.

There would be other challenges though, other trials for the brave Lore Knights to overcome!

And that, dear reader, is a tale for another time!



Finis!

For now...

Excellent epilogue mate.

I was mighty surprised by that turn of events with the swords and love the way the old man came up to his own mortality.

Anyway, look forward to the next part when you're back from holidays.

Sj