~~~~Back in business...  I ought to repost the last few in my standard format ... You get the drift, right?  Anyhow, feel free to comment on either my piece or my rantings.~~~~

     The last time Maze had purposefully snuck into a bandit camp, it had been to gather information on the Asassins' Guild's plans with Weaver, and that was about 500 years ago.  Maze almost laughed at the thought, but held his tongue as he crouched behind a long-disused mine cart for cover. Given that it was early morning, most of the bandits were sleeping, having spent the better part of the night enjoying the spoils of the previous day. One bandit "stood watch" at the fire, or rather, kept himself awake while the others slept.  Considering the beer bottles that littered the ground around his feet, his consciousness was an achievement in itself.  Maze considered just shooting him, but it seemed likely that this would wake the others (not that most of them would put up much of a fight with pounding headaches from the hangovers and the disorientation of being woken up too early, to boot).  Instead, Maze decided to use a little trick he had learned a while back. 

    Drawing his sword as quietly as possible, Maze waited for the watchman to scrounge through a crate for a fress bottle of beer.  When the bandit turned his back to the crate, Maze came out of hiding and came up from behind, stabbing the outlaw while running a charge of lightning through the blade.  Laying the body down silently, he prepared to deal with the rest in a manner that was more suited to his tastes.  With no sentry to give him away, Maze stood in the center of the camp at the fireplace, with the bandits arranged in bedrolls around him.  Concentrating with his Will, Maze cast arcs of lightning in all directions from his body, each latching on to a different bandit and electrocuting them within seconds.  The bandit camp was now a graveyard.  "Oi! What the hell have ya done to me lads?  You're gonna pay for that, fairy man!"
    

   With a speed exceeding that of any natural means, the bandit leader who had stood at least eight meters away suddenly became close enough to smell the alcahol on his breath (not a pleasant smell). Maze instinctively brought his blade to a blocking position behind him, narrowly avoiding a painful death by skewering upon a rusty cutlass.  With no time to charge up a Will spell, he whipped out his pistol and spun around, but the bandit was now a six meters away in a different direction. "Ha ha ha! They call me dash 'cause I'm the fastest bandit in Albion. I'm the leader round here cause anyone stupid enough to cross me gets a sword in the gut before they draw a weapon. Impressed the lads so much they made meChief Bandit in Roookridge.You can't touch me, so ha!"  Maze fired a shot from his pistol in response, but Dash moved out of the way as though the bullet were a lazy butterfly.    

   Slow Time, Maze guessed, though the bandidt didn't seem the type to study magic at any length.  The first spell seemed to be a variant of the Assassin Rush spell, but it seemed almost instinctive for Dash.  In that case, he probably wouldn't do well against counter measures to the spell.  Now reloaded, Maze fired at Dash and quickly cast a time slowing spell.  Dash, apparently unaware of the spell, was running towards Maze at what now seemed a normal speed.  This gave him plenty of time to launch a fireball at the unsuspecting bandit.  As the slowing spell wore off, Maze had just enough time to see Dash's body fly past him like a meteor, then disintegrate into ashes on the wind.  All that remained was to notify the gate guards in Oakfield that the pass was clear to start repairing the bridge on the path to Bowerstone.

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

   The second room had been just as infested with hollow men as the first, and Margaret had quickly become a reluctant expert at killing them.  Hannah kept as close as she could, which was almost as tiring as Margaret's fighting given the weight of the urn she carried.   They arrived at the final chamber at last, expecting more rotting assailants.  They were not disappointed. *Bang* A hollow man fell flat to the stone of the cave floor, headless. Slash.   Another fell to Margaret's sword, torso shattered by the blow.  Fwoosh.  A fireball incinerated a group of three as they charged mindlessly toward the pair.  More came, wave after wave crashing against Margaret's whirlwind of attacks.  As the last hollow men fell, Hannah blessed the water, but a monk soon came bearing ill news . . .

~~~~Although I will continue to reference Margaret's journey as a Hero, it is about time to shift the focus and find where Maze's path lies, now that a new Hero has risen to save Albion from Lucien.  Well, that's the plan for now at least.  I need to get away from the straight F2 storyline.~~~~

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Yay I think you got it. Very human aspect of feeling and discribing, all the little things such as mud, and alcohol smells. Makes it more realistic.I so love to hear about Maze. To bad there isn't a way to bring him back I really liked him.
But then maybe with the choices of family, is it possible the hero was related to the latest hero? Could it happen?  Ah well, at least there are your stories. They keep him alive.

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I used a little tweaking of events myself, but F2 did allow for resurrections... Lady Grey (though she looks like more of a busty goth doll than a haughty and powerful mayor now).  Victor's device wasn't broken after the quest, just never used again... Anyhow, I could even bring back the Guildmaster if I were being flexible woth the rules of the story (but that's no fun, I need to be working on new villains as soon as i get through the F2 line, which held me for longer than I had planned, using it to develop Margaret to replace Maze and free him up from the F2 plot.  Speaking of which, I need to review and check some details for future use.

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

   Maze's return to Bowerstone was relatively uneventful once villagers from Oakfield came to repair the bridge.  Once there, he was greeted by waves from the townspeople who had known him and suspicious stares at his Will lines from those who had not. Bowerstone itself had changed little in his rather short absence, and the small house he had bought with Margaret was still in repair.  Unlocking the door, he stepped over the threshold and sent a small enveope skidding across the floor with his foot.  The letter, it appeared, had been slid under the door while he had been away, but it did not seem all that old.  Slitting the unmarked envelope open with a dagger, Maze read the message written on a single sheet of parchment.

     To the wizard Maze: Margaret's progress in Oakfield in her hunt for the first Hero has unlocked the true potential of her Heroic blood.  I had previously held doubts of her ancestry, but it now seem apparent that she is one of the Bloodline.  As such, she needs to be tempered by danger and self reliance to reach the level of power that she is most certainly capable of.  To this end,your services are no longer required in the fight against Lucien.  Do not interfere with her progress, and I will send you notices on events in Albion that need a Hero to deal with.  Margaret will be quite busy, and your aid will be useful in stabilizing Albion while Margaret thwarts Lucien's bid for control through the use of the Spire.  This will be quite important after Lucien's fall, as a shattered and chaotic kingdom will *not* do.  Regards, *T*
    Maze pondered over the message in his hand.  Theresa was effectively cutting him off from the hunt for Lucien, and planned to distract him with odd jobs while she worked her designs for Albion through Margaret.  What she planned to do after Margaret defeated Lucien was the predominant question in Maze's mind.  It was time to do some research, but the text that likely held the answers lay hidden somewhere in Albion, an ancient letter the only clue to its whereabouts.  The Thaumaturgica: an ancient arcane text of the Old Kingdom, bound with enchantments that would preserve it for eternity from the elements of nature.  Disposing of Theresa's letter with a conjured flame from his hand, Maze recalled the old letter he had found wedged in a book, in the ruins of the Heroes' Guild.
   Dear Agatha, I'll need to keep that Thaumaturgica and those other references until I can make copies for my research.  William was also interested in any of those old atlases you found; he seems to think that they might bear locations of significance to his collection of Old Kingdom artifacts.  He and Elvira are expecting a child soon. If you don't hex any townsfolk, you should go visit them some time.  You did blow off the wedding, after all.I found some odd fungi in the back of a cave last week.  It was glowing when I found it, and I decided to keep it for you when you come to pick up your books.  Scythe hasn't been seen since he left, and Maze still hasn't appeared.  I think that he's gone for this time. Regards, Briar Rose     

   The corresponding map he had found listed Briar's residence as Hobbe Cave, though this one would likely be located somewhere in Brightwood, not in Rookridge.  It also seemed likely that the entrance would be either colllapsed, overgrown with plant life, or underwater (if it had been absorbed by Wraithmarsh rather than Brghtwood- it had been on the border of Darkwood, which overtook Oakvale after its mysterious fall).

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Hmm, will Maze stay out of it. Very interesting take on the story. 
Well done. Wonder where Briar went off to?

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or where her grave is, hmm? . . .  It gives me a nice way to shift focus in any case, and I can draw on elements from my last story rather than F2's for some nice twists.

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

twelthdoctor:

or where her grave is, hmm? . . .  It gives me a nice way to shift focus in any case, and I can draw on elements from my last story rather than F2's for some nice twists.

Sweet, I wonder where it will lead to? 

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I finally got around to reading this again. Awesome way to get Maze out of the F2 story. job

I'm working on the next piece, trying to make substantial posts when I put them up.

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

      It was a long and tiring journey through the south of Brightwood to get to the border of Wraithmarsh, but this seemed to be where the old Hobbe Cave would lie, amid the dying vegetation and smell of rot from ancient trees.  The ground was moist and soft, the fog and water draining from the swamps into the dirt.  The stench of rot was almost overwhelming, but Maze covered his face with a hand and looked for any sign of a cave entrance.  Nothing was immediately apparent, but he eventually came to a stagnant pool that seemed deeper than the swampwater and bubbles of air occasionally broke the surface.  It could have just been gas rising from rotted vegetation at the bottom, but it was the only lead nearby.  Taking a deep, full breath, Maze dove into the pool headfirst.  He swam down for several seconds with only stone at the sides and murky water  below.  A gap in the stone became slowly visible through the brackish water. 

      With a burst of extra effort, Maze propelled himelf through into a widening gap that led upward.  After what seemed an eternity but could not have been more than a few minutes, Maze broke the surface, gasping for air and dragging himself to the dry rock at the edge.  He shivered in the cold, dank cavern.  The next thing he noticed was the darkness.  With the light cut off by the cave walls ant the entrance below the water, the inky blackness completely enveloped him.  A fireball brought some much needed light and equally welcome warmth.  With the newborn light, Maze could see a series of ancient torch brackets affixed to the walls.  One by one, he relit them, until  the cave was bathed in flickering, glowing light.   Five hundred years had left the cavern's contents in  state of decrepit dereliction.  Tables and chairs lay strewn on the ground in various states of decomposition.  On the wall near the end of the first chamber was painted a notice of sorts, in scrawling black paint. 

      It read Those who would terrorise Albion by way of Will, that unnatural scourge of man, and call themselves a Hero, know that ye shall be hunted down by we, the Albion Anti-Hero League (and our notable comrades, the Witchspotters) until there shall be no more.  This place, once the home of wtetched witch and Hero Briar Rose (who shall not elude us . . . again), shall be a haven for Will no longer. We will be triumpha-- The writing ended abruptly, and the wall below was marked by a scorched  round burn mark.  It seemed as though Briar had taken offense at the organization's intrusion into her home. 

      At the far wall, the passage onward was blocked by a large Old Kingdom stone, covered in ancient glowing runes and carved with the Guild Seal entwined by thorns that bore roses in four corners.  A symbol of her legacy- and a message to allies.  Pushing and pulling the stone proved to be a useless endeavor; it was as heavy as it looked.  Then Maze thought of the obvious, and placed his hand over the emblem of the Guild Seal, imbuing it with his Will.  The runes glowed brighter, then the stone melted into the wall, allowing access to the rock tunnel to the next chamber.  As he walked past, the stone returned to its original position, grating into place.  Briar's study awaited Maze's exploration.

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Brilliant

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Thanks, I have a prequel if you didn't see the link on the first (or second? third?...whichever it was) page. That  was my firs work, and has some details that I referenced here.  Orakaius made a thread of classics on the board to read, if you ever feel like looking at it.  I am a particular fan of Marcasite's work, but it's fairly mature stuff, and updates are sparse (due to much detail and editing, I'm sure).

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Hm, seems as if you are filling in the gaps. Wonderful story. Thanks for your story, it's so entertaining.

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I find myself getting all warm and fuzzy about the next bit I'm working on.  I just feel like connecting to the past a bit, tying my particular interpretation of Albion to its past, and the figures in it.  Historians often say that the study of the past is the study of humanity's future (though they say such things in different ways, I'm just paraphrasing and generalizing [and disgressing]).  I want the old to be entwined with the new, fires lit by the spark of past events, and to feel the rush of eternity flowing through time.  Oh dear, I wax poetic . . .  Anyhow, back to writing and thinking and doing . . .

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

   The stone that had sealed off the main chambers from the entrance chamber of the cave had apparently sealed out the moisture and rot that caused the decay of the ancient furnishings.  The air here was drier, and warmed rather quickly when Maze lit the torches in their brackets in comparison to the clammy chill of the first room.  As the light illuminated dusty tables and armchairs, bookshelves and display cases, what Maze saw raised his hopes of finding the Thaumaturgica.  The shelves were stocked with ancient tomes and volumes in near perfect condition; sealed away from light, moisture, and insects, time had little effect on the pages.  Maze smiled, Briar would doubtlessly have appreciated the preservation of her beloved books, and it seemed quite plausible to him that she had planned it this way.  An expression of her legacy, or perhaps a gift to the academic posterity, he thought.   A round table in the center of the room was occupied mainly by a nailed-down map of Albion, marked in areas with small 'X' symbols tagged with an alphanumeric designation.  A small journal at the edge of the table contained the key; marked areas were sites of historic battles or residences in the first few pages, while the rest of the journal described the results of trips to the sights, including any discoveries made there.

     Against an empty stone wall in a corner, away from everything else, stood a desk.  It somehow seemed even more grand, worn, and ancient than anything else in the room, though it was simply decorated with twisting patterns up its legs and a carved inlay of weaving lines across its edges.  On it stood a single candle, dried wax flowing like an ancient waterfall to the wood on which it stood, next to a bottle of ink (long since dried out) a quill made from an eagle's feather, and an ancient, bound manuscript. The source of Power: An Exploration of Albion's Hidden History by Briar Rose.  It seemed fitting that she would write a book, Maze thought.  The Old Kingdom scholar who once trusted only in the comfort of the written word.  It must have been like her child, he thought, her last gift to the world perhaps, and the one that likely brought her the most peace at its conclusion. 

   Changing focus, Maze scanned the shelves and displays for the Thaumaturgica.  There were certainly a many interesting artifacts in the glass-paneled cases, some with an obvious utility and others whose purpose was decidedly unclear.  One case, however, was empty and the front panel hung ajar on its hinges.  The label inside read  "This ancient book of Old Kingdom magic once belonged to the Heroes' Guild, but was spared the Guild's destruction when it was on loan (to me, ironically . . . and I still haven't heard from Agatha since), and includes information on magical barriers, seers, and the concentration of Will for powerful artifices.  Although ancient and mystical, it reads rather like an instruction manual when translated.  A highly valuable part of this collection."  Valuable, and apparently gone . . .Maze thought sourly. kicking a sheet of parchment on the ground.  In retrospect, he decided to bend down and pick it up, hoping for a clue as to the Thaumaturica's whereabouts.  A short note was written on it in spidery handwriting. 

   If you are reading this, then you managed to get past the Will-activated stone.  To discover the fate of the book, go to the Cow and Corset. Sit at the corner table upstairs and bring this note.  Regards, V.    

    Reaching into his coat pocket for his Guild Seal, Maze paused.  Briar's manuscript deserved to be read.  Tucking it under his arm, Maze touched his Seal and felt the familiar rush of energy as he was teleported to Hero Hill.  A meeting with "V" awaited.

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

This is a story, and it's starting to pick up.

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Everybody get drunk.

thanks.  Oh dear, I forgot to change the chapter heading.

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

twelthdoctor:

thanks.  Oh dear, I forgot to change the chapter heading.

lol, I always forget to do that, and then I remember five seconds after I post so I have to go back and edit it...

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1 year on the forums and counting! Get it? Counting? Oh never mind...

I can't wait for the next chapter. Already waiting at the Cow and Corset.
I am really loving this story. 

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er, I've been fairly busy recently, but I'll try to work on the next bit soon.

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Just as an update, I got to work on the next bit, and hope to post soon.  I know it's been a while since I posted here :/

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

twelthdoctor:

Just as an update, I got to work on the next bit, and hope to post soon.  I know it's been a while since I posted here :/

Hey no problem. Most people here are busy nowadays because of finals and such, me included. Take as much time as you need!

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1 year on the forums and counting! Get it? Counting? Oh never mind...

I have a deal written, more than most of my posts, but I still need to tie it up and polish a bit before posting.  I am still here though.

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Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .