Friday, November 5, 2010
Tales of the best laid plans
So my brother is dead, wrapped up in some assassination plot, and they are digging around in the Nightstalker’s plans and plots. Hammer wanted to avenge his brother’s death but knew he was unwilling to risk eternal torment in hell or existence as some horrible undead creature to do it. Some time in the Driftdowns seemed to be in order. Hammer knew his meeting with them in the morning would be a risk but they had told him about his brother and showed uncommon bravery. Hammer would risk the meeting and then make himself scarce. Were it not so close to the winter solstice he would consider a job taking him out of Stormhaven, for now he would have to hole up for a few months and test the air in the spring.
Hammer took to the sky, flying back towards his rooftop home, deep in thought, cloaked in invisibility, his last thoughts being a hope that Son Commodities would serve a good breakfast. A thin green ray struck the back of his head, bathing it in green light before the head disintegrated, his corpse falling to the grounds below. A wingotaur soon landed near the dead ogre magi’s body, easily picking up the dead weight and flew off into the night.