Vance Moore - Magic the Gathering - Odyssey Cycle 01 - Odyssey

VIP免费

2024-12-20 0 0 1.05MB 326 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

The detonation rocked Kamahl back. The light

was bright enough that he could see through his

eyelids as the edge of the energy brushed him. The

crowd was stunned into silence. The magic ignited the

spore cloud and the explosion sped back to the mole,

devouring it as the molds detonated in sympathy with

Kamahl's attack. The dementia caster rolled on the

ground, unable to stand. She had been flung back

several yards, and the sand stripped most of her

clothes off as well as much of her skin. Her teeth bared

and bloody, she stood, gathering herself to summon

more monstrosities.

Vance Moore

CHAPTER 1

The sun lay sullen to the west. Hovering on the

horizon, its rays cast the hills in shadows. The pits lay

ahead. Finally he was drawing near after months of

travel. Kamahl looked at the heart of the games and

saw only a gaping hole of darkness. The twilight

prevented him from seeing the city that lay in the

hollow. Even as he watched, torches were lit, the dull

red light illuminating the site of Kamahl's future

triumphs. From mountain obscurity he traveled

toward his destiny.

Cabal City was the largest in the continent's

interior, but only a few signs of its size were visible

from Kamahl's vantage point. He could see just the

roofs of a few buildings and the residential quarters'

laundry hanging in the still air. The city was held in a

huge rocky crater, its sides uneven but highest on the

western outskirts. The glow of torches and the

streetlights near the great dome of the arena began to

color the walls of the buildings as Kamahl moved

closer. The flare of both ordinary fire and magic lit the

streets, but the dark shadow cast by the crater walls

shrouded most of the city in darkness.

The barbarian started down the shallow incline

at a slow run. He breathed easily, even with the armor

in his pack and the great sword strapped to his back.

Skin the color of brass showed no flush of exertion. His

smooth beardless features were calm. No sweat

dampened his inky hair, and his violet eyes were clear.

Living in the mountains had given him good night

Odyssey

vision, and he looked through the increasingly dim

light to the town's gate. The road began to rise, and he

breathed harder as he neared the city limits. The

crater walls were notched, and the entrance reminded

the barbarian of a pass through mountains, though far

smaller in scale than the peaks of his childhood home.

Drovers hurried a string of camels into the city, their

whips snapping as they moved the animals through

the high gate. Merchants from across the continent

come to satisfy the tourney crowds, the warrior

thought.

Kamahl breathed deeply, the prospect of the

games exciting his blood more than the run. Years

mastering the fighting arts lay behind him, and now

he rushed to show his skills before the wider world.

Veteran of many a duel in his home mountains, he

wanted more than the championship of an alpine

valley. The best fighters on the continent converged on

this tourney, and he belonged here.

His stride lengthened as he left the hills, his

boots pounding into the road's surface. The guards

waved the merchants through, uttering only a few

threats to increase the bribes offered. They turned

their attention on the jogging figure. His light

throwing axes softly rubbed against Kamahl's wallet.

He had run for days approaching the contest and lost

what little fat he might have had. The strict regime of

exercise had refined him down to his essence. He

pulled up to the gate without any sign of exertion

except his deep breaths.

"Another jack," muttered a guard as he took a

firmer hold of his halberd and moved out from the

gate, Kamahl frowned, for the soldier used the term

Vance Moore

for an arena fighter as if it were an insult. He was a

champion, and only the obvious inferiority of the

speaker prevented a demand for satisfaction. The man

looked nervously at a stack of orders. The rest of the

troops had withdrawn inside to the guardhouse. Two

stout men-at-arms slowly lugged a crossbeam to brace

the gate when it closed for the night. The road lead

directly into town with only a portcullis to bar the way.

The wall was only twelve feet high and the guards

served more to collect tolls than defend the city.

"Why have you come to the pits of the Cabal?"

intoned a guard who drew away from the gate as if to

duck behind the wall.

"I have come into my own," Kamahl said

absently, looking to the city beyond. The guard was

confused and unconsciously gave way as the massive

barbarian came closer. The fighter drew his attention

to the minor servant before him. "I will compete in the

tourney. Where would I find the Master of the

Games?"

The guard blinked at the bald statement but

regarding the warrior seemed uncertain how to

respond. Shouting broke out on the road behind him,

and he turned from the barbarian to the commotion.

There were several wagons backed up the causeway

leading down to the pit. Kamahl could see soldiers

gathered in a clump in front of the waiting vehicles.

"As you can see, the road is backed up due to a

wreck." The guard said, drawing a little confidence

from the sight of his fellows so far away. "The elevator

cable snapped and killed a mule." Kamahl just strode

forward, ignoring the guard's outstretched arm.

Odyssey

"No profit from crazy men anyway," the soldier

muttered as he stepped away from the barbarian.

The road's decline prevented horses hauling fully

loaded wagons into the city. An elevator dropped cargo

from the staging area just inside the guardhouse to the

bottom of the depression. Once relieved of their loads,

merchants could then safely take the horses down the

slope. Traffic headed into the city rode the brakes all

the way to the flat at the bottom, using the animals

just to steer. The elevator had just broken, however,

and the snapped cable had beheaded a mule,

overturning a wagon and blocking the causeway.

Kamahl drew a dagger, holding its blade against

his arm. He used the hilt to prod people out of the way,

ignoring angry words. The decapitated beast lay

tangled in its traces, its blood pouring down the steep

roadway. Kamahl gathered a whisper of power and

wrapped it around the dagger's blade. He shoved aside

the owner and guardsmen and skimmed his blade

along the beast's side with a single stroke. Harness

leather and chains parted like air before the blade,

singing as tension released. Kamahl shoved the corpse

hard with his boot. The barbarian's physical power

became plain to the angry guardsmen. The donkey

shot down the ramp lubricated by its own blood. The

animal hit the railing, wood coming apart in a spray of

rotten timbers. The remains of the beast and fence fell

to the ground below with a heavy thud. Kamahl

withdrew power from the blade and continued down

the road, walking just along the bloodied skidway.

"The Cabal pit masters bought that carcass!"

bellowed someone. Kamahl's ears picked up the

conversation even as he continued away.

Vance Moore

"Leave it alone," he heard someone else hiss.

"Jacks are all crazy; just consider the meat

tenderized."

* * * * *

Fighters from throughout the continent moved in

the streets. Kamahl saw races of all descriptions—

faerie, human, dwarf, centaur, and others that he

could not name. They came to the pits to compete for

their own glory and the prizes offered. Everywhere in

the land the contest between warriors played out every

day, but it was in the pits that jacks of known mettle

found opponents worth the sweat of battle. Kamahl

came for worthy adversaries and to prove his mastery.

Most of his opponents were there for more.

The Cabal had opened up its vaults to supply the

prizes. Booty from centuries of collecting and a

thousand battlefields was available. Sages and

historians were nearly as prevalent as fighters in the

city. All converged to see the treasures drawn from the

rock deep below the pits. With the fighters and the

learned men, an influx of gamblers and enthusiasts

filled the avenues. Moving among the throngs worked

pickpockets, whores, and sellers of the forbidden. The

barbarian sauntered over the cobblestones, seeing

unfamiliar sights. Tents stood with ragged and dirty

men calling for custom. Though from the sparsely

settled mountains, Kamahl was completely civilized in

his cynicism. False wonders filled the streets as the

hopeful went from stall to stall, determined to find the

lucky prize that surely must be hidden in all the chaff.

Torches flared and some burned brightly with

magic enhanced lights. Kamahl took a second to feel

Odyssey

the warmth of the energy with his mystic senses.

Stretching forth his mind and spirit he felt the beat of

power and dissonance as contesting magics fractured

against each other. It could only be the pits that called

to him, and he hurried through the collected throngs to

take his place.

* * * * *

The crowd roared its approval as two men moved

into the arena, the masses calling encouragement.

Kamahl had bought entrance with a small nugget of

gold from a mountain stream. He imagined the Master

of the Games would be in the arena, and the barbarian

was determined to find him. The building was huge,

seating thousands. The walls leaned inward overhead,

evoking the feeling of an underground cavern. Huge

torches flared continuously behind reflectors, directing

the magic light onto the floor of the stadium. Red and

black sand covered the circular fighting area. Inside

the wide ring were obstacles and a few obvious trap

doors. Despite himself, Kamahl was impressed. For

the first time he was in a building that made him feel

closed in even though it was several spear-casts across.

The two men on the sand moved together, and

Kamahl shook his head. The opponents were hesitant,

and the barbarian wondered how any could find such a

match interesting. A young man standing close by

noticed Kamahl's mild contempt and spoke.

"Do not give up hope just yet, sir," he said,

shuffling near.

His clothing was dark and loose, the tailoring and

richness of the fabric suggesting a person of means, yet

he was young and had no attendants. Kamahl thought

Vance Moore

him likely to be a lord's servant though he saw no

obvious crest or standard to announce his affiliation.

"The name is Chainer," the man said, moving

closer. The pair are partners against Lieutenant

Kirtar, a champion from the Northern Order."

"Kamahl," the barbarian said, glancing briefly at

the youth and then to the stands, "here to win the

tourney. Where do I announce myself?"

Chainer's eyebrows raised slightly at the boast,

and he smiled. Kamahl turned more of his attention to

the young man.

The youth still had a trace of innocence in his

face, but already the fighter could see some of the

hardness and cynicism that characterized city toughs.

The boy's hair was in tight corn-rolls that grew down

over his eyes. His only visible weapon was a large,

ornamental dagger that he wore at his side. As

Kamahl considered him, Chainer's fingertips lightly

brushed the hilt in an apparently unconscious gesture.

"You'll want to speak to the Master of the Games

then," Chainer said. He pointed across the enclosure to

the box seats across the arena. "There's the master

now, talking to the Mer ambassador."

The other side of the building held a host of

individual boxes, most of which were empty now, these

being only the early elimination rounds. Kamahl could

see separate floating pods hovering over the boxes,

clustered around doors and a narrow platform high on

the arena wall.

"Those are only used by high officials and wealthy

patrons of the games." Chainer said as he followed

Kamahl's eyes. "Usually the Master of the Games

oversees from there, but with so much work still to be

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

ThedetonationrockedKamahlback.Thelightwasbrightenoughthathecouldseethroughhiseyelidsastheedgeoftheenergybrushedhim.Thecrowdwasstunnedintosilence.Themagicignitedthesporecloudandtheexplosionspedbacktothemole,devouringitasthemoldsdetonatedinsympathywithKamahl'sattack.Thedementiacasterrolledontheground,...

展开>> 收起<<

Vance Moore - Magic the Gathering - Odyssey Cycle 01 - Odyssey.pdf

共326页,预览66页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

Vance Moore - Magic the Gathering - Odyssey Cycle 01 - Odyssey

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: