The Mechanics of Peace

Chapter 8 - The Trap

by David "Lord Davidian", posted on April 17th, 2001

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 -
Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

       The cobble-stone streets were getting much darker and quieter now; more so than those Delvun had travelled along to get to this point. The eerie lack of activity and ambient lighting was cause for the young anxious Elf to be put on edge. In fact, the otherwise calm and collected Delvun actually jumped at the sudden sound of two fiercely competitive alley cats fighting to determine which one was most worthy of the small scrap of food lying invitingly between them. Amidst the ensuing struggle, the clumsy duo managed to knock over a large metal trash can. The can smacked against the stony ground with a thunderous CRASH! as they nearly killed each other for the paltry prize.
"Find your center. This is no time to be taking leave of your senses," Delvun told himself. He took in a deep breath of the decidedly foul night air and then slowly let it out. He repeated this cycle several times, waiting patiently for his rapid heart rate to return to its accustomed rhythmic pace.

       Soon Delvun came upon the building he was directed to by the Half-Orc in the Saloon. He carefully inspected the drab uninviting structure, but could see no signs indicating that this uninspired edifice was a Copper Exchange nor that it was the property of Mr. Thundersmith. All that could be seen was a simple metallic plate sign badly oxidized and tarnished with age which read simply 'ENTRANCE IN REAR'.

       Being the next logical step, Delvun turned around the corner and headed down the dark, quiet alley towards the back entrance of the building. He reached the halfway point of his destination when he heard the distinct sound of shuffling feet far behind him. He quickly whipped around to see two Half-Ogres lumbering slowly and steadily towards him from the alley's entranceway; each wielding huge wicked looking, but crudely fashioned, spiked clubs. An evil grin formed on their ugly toothless faces in unison when they saw that they had been noticed.

       "You come to wrong part of town. Now we take what you have," the bigger of the two Half-Ogres warned as he stretched out his powerful right arm and pointed a threatening fist at Delvun. Delvun's eyes were suddenly transfixed upon the big, ornamental ring the Half-Ogre was wearing on his middle finger. A slight blue glow emanated from its center oblong jewel.

       As he glared wide-eyed at the irresistible glow, a strange, new feeling came over Delvun; that of genuine terror. He was so terrified, he actually forgot to draw his longsword in retaliation. This was the one thing he swore he would never fail to do in the presence of an enemy. Delvun turned and ran towards the back door which would allow him to sheltered protection within. After what to him felt like an eternity, he reached the door and frantically twisted the securely-fastened bulbous doorknob...nothing. He repeated this action several more times while the confident Half-Ogres drew ever closer...still nothing. The door to Delvun's only means of safety was locked!

       Now frozen in fear, his back pressed firmly against the impenetrable door, Delvun suddenly saw two Half-Orcs emerge from behind two large trash cans which were lined up against the alley wall opposite Delvun. "A trap!" the stunned Delvun now realized as one of the Half-Orc attackers lunged at him followed closely by the other, both with monstrous axes in their leathery hands.

       The razor sharp axe came down towards Delvun's perspiring forehead, poised to make bloody contact with its exposed flesh and bone target. Delvun's only desperate, confused attempt at protection was to thrust both of his forearms arms in front of his face and cover his forehead with the old, worn bracers he wore in hopes that (futile though it clearly seemed) the death-dealing blow would be absorbed.

       A split second before the blade could make contact, a subtle golden glow emanated from the blessed bracers. To Delvun's utter disbelief, the offensive blow was not absorbed, but rather deflected! It was as if they had detected the danger and created a small invisible barrier. The Half-Orc's axe arm bounced back with enough force to cause his entire body to swivel around and crash into the Half-Orc still behind him. They both preceded to stumble uncontrollably backwards into the trash cans they were hiding behind
a moment ago.

       Witnessing this bizarre turn of events, the two Half-Ogres looked first puzzled, then quite angry as they growled and picked up their casual pace. Before they could even get a few steps closer, Delvun heard a window quickly open above. He looked up to see a mysterious figure peering out the now opened window. It was too dark to make out the cloaked figure clearly, even with Delvun's keen night vision. The suspicious silhouette aimed some kind of small weapon in front of the fast approaching Half-Ogres and fired what looked like three large pellets in rapid succession. Just as quickly, three separate clouds of nauseous-looking green vapor appeared almost in unison before the surprised Half-Ogres. Coughing and gagging could be heard from within the heavy gaseous clouds seconds before two solid THUDs as both Half-Ogres collapsed face first onto the hard cobble stone ground.

       Delvun finally regained his composure, but the green gaseous vapor was rolling dangerously close to him and the two Half-Orcs were now starting to regain their footing. Delvun's only chance to at least temporarily evade this impeding death trap was to break down the securely looked door. "At least it's wooden," he assured himself. "There IS a chance." Turning so that his left shoulder faced the obstacle before him (he dared not use his injured right shoulder), Delvun took two broad steps away from the door. Then, with all the speed he could muster, he rammed the stubbornly sturdy door, desperately putting his full strength behind the blow. BANG!...nothing! Not a budge!

       The situation had now surpassed the realm of dire and was swiftly approaching hopelessness. The noxious cloud was now looming just feet from Delvun and the Half-Orcs were readying their next angry charge, this time separately. Delvun had but one last try before all was lost. Again he took two broad steps away from the door and charged at it full force. In mid-stream, the door swung wide open and a surprised Delvun staggered into the sheltered sanctuary, trying in vain to stop himself. As the door was quickly shut and locked behind him, he stumbled and fell head first into a large pile of empty crates and cardboard boxes stacked high in the opposite corner of the spacious, apparently abandoned, building.

       Delvun was visibly shaken and felt some pain, but the boxes seemed to cushion him from any serious injury. As he laid there, trying to once again regain control of his rapid breathing, he heard coughing and gagging just outside the door. The two Half-Orcs had given up on the notion of killing Delvun and were now frantically trying to seek shelter before succumbing to the effects of the poisonous cloud they were now engulfed in. One was shaking, pulling and twisting the doorknob in vein while the other was fiercely hacking away at the solid door with his axe, unable to penetrate the thick wood. In seconds they both suffered the same fate as the Half-Ogres, falling to the cold, hard ground with a THUD. Feeling that the immediate threat was now over, Delvun shifted his attention away from the door and looked around to find the mysterious stranger who just saved his life. After a moment, his eyes locked on to the figure approaching him. He gingerly rubbed his aching head as his vision began to blur. Delvun did not know whether it was the poisonous vapors he accidentally breathed or the impact of falling into the crates, but his vision began to blur before he could see the face of his unknown, cloaked savior. Just as the mysterious figure began pulling back the hood of the cloak, unconsciousness fell over Delvun as he gave in to the inevitable.