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diamonds and rubies, this he handed to the small boy, who had shouted, who than took it to Torg....
Torg recieved the amulet, and touching the child on the shoulder, revealed him to be a strong man, who could lead the colony...
Torg then took the amulet and placed it on the wall, it fit much like a jigsaw puzzle would fit, he turned it to the left, and in a great flash of light the room turned into....
intriquet detail scrolled into the upper ceilings of brass and pilars..
the marble floors so shiney and cool.. yet bold were the walls that surrounded the open space.. walls made of plaster and tailored with silks..
Mrs. Wartzog. "You accomplished a lot. Cheap Plaster and scribblings on the walls that look like a three year old did them. Never did care for brass much. Gaudy and Junky looking if you ask me..." As the cranky woman droned on and on, all Torg could think of was...
The strangest hundred people that Torg had ever seen...He was glad that at least HE was normal. He looked at the odd gathering....man. There were some dirty, some greasy, some both and others just wierd. It was like a 7-11 at three a.m. on saturday night.
Stickfoos the janitor would be in charge of training his wards anyway he could..But he has never did any building himself. Soon torg touched him with the amulet and he gained the knowledge of a builder
when actually it was a combination of chlorine and chlorine resistant algae that Troog had never seen before in any gym locker, the goblin assured him that it was quite delishious and nurishing. The scientists on this planet were chosen for stupidity after many of their experiments went wrong and almost destroyed the planet once. Now all inhabitants believe in magic. He also warned Stickfoos that the majority of the surface land was four foot deep mud and that he would have to include stilts "or something" to his desognes. Mrs. Wartzog grabbed Troog by the ear then and threatened....
"Doom is upon us", Torg having had enough of Mrs Wartzog quickly touched her with the amulet, turning her into a kind and caring person, as she made her way through the crowd she could be heard saying comforting things to all...
Now Torg could turn his attention to....
The biker chick with green hair a nose ring and a tatto of an orchid on her right breast who was already eating algae by the handful. Little did Troog know but the change to Mrs. Wartzog was only temperary...When it wore off she would be twice as bad as before...
Even now, the slight changes could be detected. The comforting words were gradually turning to carping sentiments; accolades to accusations; pleasantries to persecution....
Stickfo saw these foolish antics. And lead his small band of wards to a barracks to prepare for clases he would be training. The amulet only had so much power yet not enough to give alot of people knowledge...
Forbidden, dark, arcane knowledge...along with the secret ingredients of twinkies, Juicy Fruit Gum, and the addictive properties of Doritos.
Torg Sickfoos the Janitor was considering why he was thinking of himself as Troog again. It was an old High School nickname. It had started out as Trog for Troglidite. Maybe it was because of the old bat...screeching he vileness...he could feel her eyes searching for him, her dark presence hunting him...it was like she could smell his fear...wait a second...he thought...are there 2 of me...who is that guy leading those people with HIS...or MY...amulet?
The village was named after its most famous idiot who had escaped the bounds of his serfdom and become the Lord of the castle above...in his rule he had quite a few setbacks...this is his story...it was on a night like this
Lintot had gotten word from the village and knew there were only a few young males capable to fight. He aquire a messanger to go to the next village(not in his jurisdiction). To post a sign asking for men to protect his village.
But a raider had been calabanting among the bars and saw the sign and took this iformation back to the Raider leader Malatan who was in a rage after that
"I am terribly vexed." Malatan stated sternly. Lorg, one of his most trusted aids sheepishly approached Malatan and spoke "I beg your pardon sire but that turn of phrase has already been used." Malatan eyes narrowed with great consternation then after a great pause he uttered "Then I am quite peeved." Lorg nodded slightly with approval. "So, Malatan continued, the Great Fool thinks he can outmaneuver me and fortify his village. Lorg, fetch me ...
My horse and sword. I will have the pleasure of defeating this stupid Lord. With about twenty raiders,Malatan could not penetrate the castle for lord Limtrot had no gate or windows. He had a secret passage that only he knew of..
His castle was once a Monastery and the monks had laid dead monks down there. I f a Blizzard had not wiped them out theywould still be there. Legend began growing the castle was haunted, but limtrot showed
no care when he moved into it
little did Limrot know that the Castle was REALLY haunted and that Malatan had the only amulet that would garuntee safety from the dark powers that now inhabited the abandoned monastary. Legend had it that there had once been a mad monk who dwelled there and after practicing forbidden rites from forbidden tombs, his arcana had unleased an evil that had killed all the other monks and himself as well. Malatan had dug the amulet from the lone survior's tomb. The monk who had snatched the amulet from his crazed brother and fled while the ill-fated man was in turn devoured by his creation...
Malatan did not even know that the amulet he won while beating a blacksmith at cards was powerful. How did the Blacksmith get it from the surviving Monk?
Malatan, while being a natural battlefield commander and an even more brilliant tactician, has shown to be a bit addle-minded of late. He needs to be reminded from time to time that the amulet he won from the blacksmith is indeed a well crafted forgery of the amulet Malatan would later obtain from the traitor monk's tomb.
The slight head wound which Malatan had recieved from walking into a doorframe throbbed as the dizziness began to subside...he remembered his plan...he'd gotten the real amulet and duped the fool blacksmith into making a duplicate...conning the fake from him and not having ta pay for it was part of the fun....he'd wear the fake copy around his neck openly and pretend great safeguards around it...while the true amulet he wore around his wrist, hidden in a steel gauntlet, magic in itself. THe gauntlet gave its wielder the power tocatch thrown spears or javilins in the air, and cast them back at their owner with 3 times its original force...he knew that the gloves worked on daggers and sling stones as well....
The Gauntlet of Theragon which adorns Malatan's wrist was believed by ancient lore to have been created by Bruvaire, the Blacksmith to the God's themselves. The Gauntlet was not meant for Malatan's world and carries with it a great curse to any mortal who wears it.
The raiders had to stay overnight in a barn of a deserted farm. The put the horses next to a well, over Malatan almost fell and his leather bag fell on the ground and with a sprinkle sprinkle sound the amulet found the ground... ehmm, not the ground but the stoneformation the well was made from.... and *sprinkle *sprinkle... fell into the deep...
"NO!!!!!!"Malatan shouted.. trying to grap it.. but... it was too late! The amulet fell into the deep, deep well..
Malatan cursed and then realised that it was the fake that he had dropped...for the real one was still tied to his wrist. Meanwhile, Lorg his aide got out the rope. It would be a long climb down", thought Lorg.
Meanwhile, Limtrot, the Dimrot(as they called him as a boy), idiot of the people...
Limtrot stood in horror as he watched all but a few brave men scatter to the winds. Then from the mayhem approached a pale, hooded figure who spoke in a very solemn tone.
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