Sammy the Not So Nimble (4)

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Copyright 2008 C.K. Goh. All rights reserved.

All characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

This story is the intellectual property of C.K. Goh. Any reproduction or unauthorised use of the material contained herein is prohibited without the expressed written permission of C.K. Goh.

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The rogue player had terrible die-rolling luck in that particular game, failed almost all trap finding die rolls, even rolled the "cannot search for trap anymore". The title of this short story is a jab at that spectacular die-rolling. =)

Hondrel healed the fighter after they helped him out of the latest pit trap, the fighter had dislocated his sword arm and suffered a severe cut on his forehead, besides numerous graze wounds.

The cleric didn't say anything, but the arcane energy within him was dwindling, he would not be able to heal much more without replenishing his arcane reserve.

All magical spells, harmful or curative, require the expend of the caster's arcane energy. The amount of arcane energy a caster possesses increases with the caster experience and aptitude, and replenishes with long hours of undisturbed rest or magical means, like consuming potions or gain through magical weapons. The casters were kept in check with this limitation, for the tremendous power of magical spells would make casters unstoppable without this counterbalance.

Chango gave Hondrel a nod of gratitude as he stood up, the cleric smiled back wearily.

"Doesn't talk much, does he?" Phancenolara asked Hondrel after Chango had moved away to flex his sword arm.

"The silent type I guess," Hondrel replied, "say Phancy, do you have any potion of restoration that you can spare?"

"Sorry Hondrel, I was hoping to find some in this dungeon, those potions are rare, and bloody costly," Phancenolara replied, "running a bit dry huh?" She asked with unusual warmth, elves were usually lofty and regarded the other races as inferior to them.

But Phancenolara was a magic user, she knew the helplessness a caster felt when the arcane reserve was running low. She and the cleric connected through their dependency of the arcane force, it's something neither the fighter nor the rogue could understand.

"It's alright Phancy, guess I just have to regain the arcane force through the chance hit of my faithful crossbow then."

Phancenolara gave him a sad smile. The chance hit of their weapons, another thing the fighter and the rogue would not understand. Almost every casters carried a magical weapon that could restore a small amount of their arcane force when a successful hit was made on living or undead creature, the catch being the restoration did not happen all the time, it's a chance thing.

"Well, at least you are not relying on your arcane force for armour protection. Do you know my magical armour weakens as my arcane reserve dwindles?"

"I didn't know that," Hondrel was surprised, and he realised the mage was more dependent on the arcane force than he was.

"Now you do. Let's go, Chango is already half way across the room."

The halfling had gone ahead of them, following the fighter rather closely and seemed to be steering the direction the fighter was going.

"Does the halfling know what she is doing?" Phancenolara asked, keeping her distance from those leading the way. She could follow their path just fine even at a distance, the fighter's foot prints were visible on the layer of dust. The light footed rogue left no visible foot prints.

"I sure hope so," Hondrel said, "else we will have two casualties instead of one. Sammy is practically walking in Chango's shadow, she will not be able to avoid the trap in time, if they sprung one."

"Stop!"

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(to be continued)

Edited on 13th August 2012, fixed typo and added link.

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