08-13-2004, 05:01 PM
(if anyone wants to continue it let me know)
Chapter 1: A Storm Rising
As the storm blew on, he pulled the hood to his cloak up and trotted on, looking from house to house for someone hospitable enough to take him in. The storm grew strong and colder as the night wore on. He walked up to a house and knocked on the thick oak door with his small fist, making little more than a gentle clock when compared to the deafening noise of the beast thundering around him. He knocked again before preparing to turn and leave for the next house. A tall broad shouldered man with a sstern and almost frightening face opened the door a smidgen and peered out at the young hooded boy. The boy’s face lit up with hope.
“Dear sir, this eve is atrocious, if you please be kind enough to shelter me till it passes, I will be on my way and trouble you no longer.”
The man’s face filled with anger as he shouted out into the night, “Get out of ere you filthy mange, your kind is not welcome here.”
With that the door slammed shut with a booming that could be heard a good 10 feet away. With a sigh and a tear on his cheek he turned and walked away. He decided he had better make his own shelter before he died from a chill. Running from alley to alley he searched for a roof which jutted out just enough to keep the rain from pouring on him. Finding one he quickly took his cloak off, shivering as he ringed it out as much as he could and wrapped it back around his shoulders and laid on the ground, curled into a ball, and closed his eyes. No sooner had he closed his eyes then he found himself asleep.
“Get up now, you dirty rat.”
He was waken by the light of day and a kick to his ribs. He groaned as he turned and looked into the face of a guard. As he tried to stand, he was hit in his face by the blunt of a cold sword. Its iron burned him with just a touch and he soon found the nasty metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He scrambled to his feet and ran for his life. Finding sanctuary in an apparently empty monastery. He sat on a bench and cried.
Chapter 2: Not So Abandoned After All
“Halt! Who goes there?” a voice shouts from the shadows.
The hooded boy takes a step forward and replies, “No one but me.”
“I am Shep and this is my gang’s house, who are you that intrudes.” The boy says as he steps towards the doorway. He looks to be about 12 years old and stands about 5 feet tall with tattered clothes and a somewhat muscular build.
The hooded boy replies with his head down and eyes averted, “I’m no body. If you want I will leave.”
Shep comes and stands by him and looks him over. “No you may stay in my house as long as you like, but you must not start trouble or talk back to me. From this moment on your name is Niuadh (Ni-Wath), meaning “no one”. Your job will be to scavenge for food, and you must make sure we have food to eat before you do, is that understood?”
Niuadh answers, “Yes Shep, I agree to those terms.”
Shep looks at him then points to the door, “Then search for food.”
Niuadh steps out and walks down the street. So this is what a family is like?, he thinks. The job is not that hard and I will have shelter from the storms. I could get use to this.
Chapter 3: Weird Happenings
Niuadh decided to go hunt in the forest just outside town. As he was walking along he heard a snap of a twig. He turned and looked and saw a dwarf with a long yellow beard and wearing druid robes and another dwarf with him. Niuadh hid behind a tree.
"We're lost!" yelled the druid. He took a step forward, nearly tripping over his long beard.
"How can we be lost, ye danged fool?" said the other dwarf. "Ye got all them birds leadin' ye, don't ye?"
The other dwarf shrugged and made an "Oooo" sound. He looked down at his feet clad in sandals and not the typical heavy dwarven boots, and kicked a nearby rock, sending it bouncing into the brush.
"Ye said ye could get me there!" Ivan Bouldershoulder roared on. "A shortcut? Yeah, a danged shortcut that's got us somewhere. Near to Mithral Hall? No! But somewhere, and ye're right, ye stupid doo-dad, ye got us here fast!"
The blustering dwarf stood up straight and adjusted his chainmail jerkin, fixing the quiver of crossbow bolts.
"Tick, tick, tick, boom," his brother warned wiggling a finger at those crossbow bolts each fitted with a small vial of oil of impact.
In response, the angry Ivan drew out a handheld crossbow, and wiggled it back at Pikel.
"Boom yerself, ye stupid doo-dad!"
Pikel's eyes rolled up into his head and he whispered a quick chant. Before Ivan could tell him to knock it off, a small branch snapped down at the dwarfs arm, enwrapping the wrist and tugging back up to put Ivan on his tip toes.
"Ye don't want to play like this," Ivan warned. "Not now."
"No boom," Pikel said firmly wiggling his finger like a scolding mother.
Ivan gave a little laugh, one that promised his brother that he'd be meeting a fist very soon. Pikel just ignored it and walked and sat under a tree.
"Ye gonna let me down?" Ivan called from his perch beneath the entrapping tree.
"Uh-uh."
Ivan gave a little chuckle, held his free hand out under the trapped arm and dropped the handheld crossbow to his waiting grasp.
"Oooo!" Pikel howled when he noticed. He lifted a small log from beside the fire and uttered a quick chant, proclaiming it a "Sha-la-la," and charged for his brother.
Ivan calmly and deliberately set the quarrel in place on the crossbow, then took up the weapon, pointing it at the entangling branch. Realizing that the howling Pikel was too close, though, Ivan matter of factly lowered the weapon the charging Pikel's way and fired.
The quarrel hit Pikel's raised enchanted club squarely. A blinding, concussive flash halted Pikel's charge and left the stunned dwarf standing there, his beard and hair smoking on the right side, his right arm still upraised, but holding only a blackened stump instead of an enchanted club.
"Oooo," the druid dwarf moaned.
"Yeah, and yer tree is next!" Ivan promised, and went for another quarrel.
Pikel hit him with a flying tackle that became more of a flying tackle when the hugging dwarves flew backward, only to be pulled forward by the strong branch, and of course to rebound backward again.
And so they went, bouncing back and forth, Pikel grabbing at the crossbow and at Ivan's swinging arm, and Ivan punching Pikel, though they were too tightly embraced for him to do any real damage. All the while, the stubborn branch held strong, and the two struggling dwarves only seemed to gain momentum on their back and forth and all around ride.
They were nearing the highest point of one such bounce when Pikel's enchantment let go, sending a ball of dwarves soaring into the air to land with a communal "Oof" and go rolling away.
The last Niuadh heard was Pikel chanting "Ooo Eeee Oooo Aaaa Aaa" before they rolled into a tree and disappeared. Niuadh got up from his hiding place and blinked and shook his head. "Weird! Was I dreaming?" Niuadh said as he carried on with his hunting.
Chapter 4: A Dream
Nuiadh finished hunting and laid under a tree for a nap before he headed back.
Niuadh woke up with a start. He had seen the terrible Eye. What did the Eye mean? He wondered. Shaking the sleep from his eyes, he returned to town.
When he got back to town, the first person he saw was the old man by the wheat cart. The old fogey was still tending it, but instead of smiling when he saw Niuadh, the guy looked like he was going to burst a valve.
"Get away, you little thief!" He yelled, turning red in the face. He started threateningly towards the boy.
"There's nothing for your kind around here! Go on! Shoo!"
Niuadh ran, confused. Hadn't he talked to that guy just a little while ago? Why was he acting like he didn't know Niuadh? Once again, when he rounded the corner, he nearly knocked over the same woman that he had before. As before, the woman cried out.
"Watch it, kid!"
Again, Niuadh apologized. "Sorry. I just want to get back to the church to meet with my dad." "What are you talking about? Father Hulk has no children! Who do you think your fooling?!" This time Niuadh stopped. "Who's Father Hulk? My dad is Shep. Don't you know him?" The other woman spoke up. "Shep? There's no one by that name in this town! You're a lying little thief! St. Eva will punish you!"
Now Niuadh was thoroughly freaked out. Something was definitely wrong. Why didn't anyone recognize him? He couldn't understand it as he ran into the church hollering for his father and sister.
"What's wrong child?" A kind, elderly man's voice came from behind him. Niuadh fought back tears as he turned around. Standing there was a bald, mustachioed man in priest's raiments, smiling kindly. "Is there anything this old priest can do?"
"I. . .can't find my family. . ." Niuadh choked out, wiping his eyes on his arm. "I don't know where they are, and no one knows me. . ."
"Well, St. Eva's church always welcomes the family-less and the homeless. We cannot turn away an orphan, no matter what their past is. Even if you are a thief, consider this sanctuary your home."
That night, Niuadh laid awake in bed. A bed that he knew was his, but at the same time was not anymore.
Everyone in town thought he was one of those thieving orphans who preyed on sympathy, so no one trusted him. This town was no longer his home.
He was just closing his eyes when the boy in the bed next to him got up. He was a nomad, with big ears, big brown eyes, and a cherubic look to him. Now he paced back and forth through the room, obviously diappointed.
"Hmmph. What a dive." He muttered to himself. "Not even one piece of gold in here."
The boy sighed and blew out the only candle in the room, placing the cold candle in a pouch. "Guess I might as well take the candles."
He was going to leave, when Niuadh sat up. "Hey, where're you going?"
"Hi, my name's Arafel. You're like me, right?" Arafel smiled a gap-toothed grin. "Pretend you're an orphan, and when they let you in, you loot?"
"Well," Niuadh shifted uncomfortably. "I guess I am an orphan now."
"I'm gonna skip town. There's gotta be better things than this little hovel." Arafel looked him over. "Say, you wanna come? We'll have adventures. . ."
Niuadh thought about it. Gate was no longer his home. He had no home, and the only person who treated him like a friend was this boy. "Why not?"
"Cool! Let's split!"
It was a simple matter to leave the church; Father Hulk had dozed off during his evening prayers, and the front door was unlocked. In a very short time, they left town. They passed through the surrounding forest in silence, and made it out onto the plains.
They'd been walking for an hour when Arafel just stopped mid-step. Nose twitching, he sniffed the air. "Uh oh. . ." He said. The sky was overcast, but he felt that it was coming. "Smells like rain. . ." No sooner than he'd said it, the rain came down. In buckets. Lightning flashed through the sky with terrible intent.
"We gotta get to shelter!" Arafel cried, covering his head with his shirt. Niuadh looked around for a group of trees, or a cave or something. Then he recognized the area they were in. There was an off-limits cavern nearby that they could wait out the storm in.
"This way!" Niuadh yelled over the pounding rain. They found their way to the cavern and made it out of the rain.
"Jeez it's dark in here." Arafel complained. "I can't even see my hands in this darkness." In the dark, Niuadh crossed his arms. "Why don't you light that candle you 'borrowed'?" There was the sound of Arafel slapping himself in the forehead. "The candle! Right!" Spark. Spark. Then the candle caught the flame and lit up. Now they could see for a few meters. "Let's look around." Niuadh said. "We can't go out until the storm ends, so let's see how far this cave goes."
They followed the winding passages deeper into the cave, when the stumbled upon something strange. It didn't stay for long, but they did get a good look at it in the candle light before it disappeared into the dark. It was a long, segmented, armoured tail, with a little spiky fin at the tip. A sort of gray-purple in colour, it was edged with blade-like extensions of carapace.
"Wow." Arafel breathed. "What do you think it is?"
"I dunno." Niuadh replied, staring where it vanished into the darkness. "I don't think we should follow it, though."
But Arafel disagreed. After a few minutes of convincing, Niuadh finally gave in. They followed the tail deeper.
Left. Right. Left. Left. Right. Each time they found it, it was pulled away into the darkness. Finally, they ended up in a dead-ended cave, or cul-de-sac. Bow rushed forward with the candle to illuminate the tail.
Now they saw it was attached to something huge and mean looking. From a crouch, it rose to its full height of nearly twenty feet. Massive, lumpy, heavily armoured targone-like forearms spread to reveal two foot long claws and segmented set of legs. Under-evolved wings sprouting from its back. The head was five feet wide, wedge-shaped with massive horns and three eyes, all of them closed. The creature turned towards them and opened its three eyes. Suddenly, the light from the candle was insignificant; the creature's eyes gave off an evil light that lit up the entire cave.
"Oh! It's a MONSTER!" Was all Arafel could manage before being swatted aside by the creature's tail.
Niuadh cried out in anger and rushed the beast.
"Who are you?" The monster asked in a distorted voice. It used a shell-covered forearm to block Niuadh's pitiful attack with his stick.
"I'm Niuadh, and you hurt my friend! You'll pay for that!" He yelled, swinging uselessly at the monster.
"Niuadh? Are you the child for the mission?" The monster seemed amused and surprised. It lowered its massive head down to his level. "Face me Niuadh. I must know. Face your nightmare!" It swatted him aside, flinging him into the stone wall. He hit it and nearly blacked out. In his daze, he heard the monster tsked him. "Let's see you complete the prophecy. Let's see you open the gate, Niuadh. Prove you are the chosen one. . ."
Niuadh passed out to the sound of the beast's demonic laughter.
Chapter 1: A Storm Rising
As the storm blew on, he pulled the hood to his cloak up and trotted on, looking from house to house for someone hospitable enough to take him in. The storm grew strong and colder as the night wore on. He walked up to a house and knocked on the thick oak door with his small fist, making little more than a gentle clock when compared to the deafening noise of the beast thundering around him. He knocked again before preparing to turn and leave for the next house. A tall broad shouldered man with a sstern and almost frightening face opened the door a smidgen and peered out at the young hooded boy. The boy’s face lit up with hope.
“Dear sir, this eve is atrocious, if you please be kind enough to shelter me till it passes, I will be on my way and trouble you no longer.”
The man’s face filled with anger as he shouted out into the night, “Get out of ere you filthy mange, your kind is not welcome here.”
With that the door slammed shut with a booming that could be heard a good 10 feet away. With a sigh and a tear on his cheek he turned and walked away. He decided he had better make his own shelter before he died from a chill. Running from alley to alley he searched for a roof which jutted out just enough to keep the rain from pouring on him. Finding one he quickly took his cloak off, shivering as he ringed it out as much as he could and wrapped it back around his shoulders and laid on the ground, curled into a ball, and closed his eyes. No sooner had he closed his eyes then he found himself asleep.
“Get up now, you dirty rat.”
He was waken by the light of day and a kick to his ribs. He groaned as he turned and looked into the face of a guard. As he tried to stand, he was hit in his face by the blunt of a cold sword. Its iron burned him with just a touch and he soon found the nasty metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He scrambled to his feet and ran for his life. Finding sanctuary in an apparently empty monastery. He sat on a bench and cried.
Chapter 2: Not So Abandoned After All
“Halt! Who goes there?” a voice shouts from the shadows.
The hooded boy takes a step forward and replies, “No one but me.”
“I am Shep and this is my gang’s house, who are you that intrudes.” The boy says as he steps towards the doorway. He looks to be about 12 years old and stands about 5 feet tall with tattered clothes and a somewhat muscular build.
The hooded boy replies with his head down and eyes averted, “I’m no body. If you want I will leave.”
Shep comes and stands by him and looks him over. “No you may stay in my house as long as you like, but you must not start trouble or talk back to me. From this moment on your name is Niuadh (Ni-Wath), meaning “no one”. Your job will be to scavenge for food, and you must make sure we have food to eat before you do, is that understood?”
Niuadh answers, “Yes Shep, I agree to those terms.”
Shep looks at him then points to the door, “Then search for food.”
Niuadh steps out and walks down the street. So this is what a family is like?, he thinks. The job is not that hard and I will have shelter from the storms. I could get use to this.
Chapter 3: Weird Happenings
Niuadh decided to go hunt in the forest just outside town. As he was walking along he heard a snap of a twig. He turned and looked and saw a dwarf with a long yellow beard and wearing druid robes and another dwarf with him. Niuadh hid behind a tree.
"We're lost!" yelled the druid. He took a step forward, nearly tripping over his long beard.
"How can we be lost, ye danged fool?" said the other dwarf. "Ye got all them birds leadin' ye, don't ye?"
The other dwarf shrugged and made an "Oooo" sound. He looked down at his feet clad in sandals and not the typical heavy dwarven boots, and kicked a nearby rock, sending it bouncing into the brush.
"Ye said ye could get me there!" Ivan Bouldershoulder roared on. "A shortcut? Yeah, a danged shortcut that's got us somewhere. Near to Mithral Hall? No! But somewhere, and ye're right, ye stupid doo-dad, ye got us here fast!"
The blustering dwarf stood up straight and adjusted his chainmail jerkin, fixing the quiver of crossbow bolts.
"Tick, tick, tick, boom," his brother warned wiggling a finger at those crossbow bolts each fitted with a small vial of oil of impact.
In response, the angry Ivan drew out a handheld crossbow, and wiggled it back at Pikel.
"Boom yerself, ye stupid doo-dad!"
Pikel's eyes rolled up into his head and he whispered a quick chant. Before Ivan could tell him to knock it off, a small branch snapped down at the dwarfs arm, enwrapping the wrist and tugging back up to put Ivan on his tip toes.
"Ye don't want to play like this," Ivan warned. "Not now."
"No boom," Pikel said firmly wiggling his finger like a scolding mother.
Ivan gave a little laugh, one that promised his brother that he'd be meeting a fist very soon. Pikel just ignored it and walked and sat under a tree.
"Ye gonna let me down?" Ivan called from his perch beneath the entrapping tree.
"Uh-uh."
Ivan gave a little chuckle, held his free hand out under the trapped arm and dropped the handheld crossbow to his waiting grasp.
"Oooo!" Pikel howled when he noticed. He lifted a small log from beside the fire and uttered a quick chant, proclaiming it a "Sha-la-la," and charged for his brother.
Ivan calmly and deliberately set the quarrel in place on the crossbow, then took up the weapon, pointing it at the entangling branch. Realizing that the howling Pikel was too close, though, Ivan matter of factly lowered the weapon the charging Pikel's way and fired.
The quarrel hit Pikel's raised enchanted club squarely. A blinding, concussive flash halted Pikel's charge and left the stunned dwarf standing there, his beard and hair smoking on the right side, his right arm still upraised, but holding only a blackened stump instead of an enchanted club.
"Oooo," the druid dwarf moaned.
"Yeah, and yer tree is next!" Ivan promised, and went for another quarrel.
Pikel hit him with a flying tackle that became more of a flying tackle when the hugging dwarves flew backward, only to be pulled forward by the strong branch, and of course to rebound backward again.
And so they went, bouncing back and forth, Pikel grabbing at the crossbow and at Ivan's swinging arm, and Ivan punching Pikel, though they were too tightly embraced for him to do any real damage. All the while, the stubborn branch held strong, and the two struggling dwarves only seemed to gain momentum on their back and forth and all around ride.
They were nearing the highest point of one such bounce when Pikel's enchantment let go, sending a ball of dwarves soaring into the air to land with a communal "Oof" and go rolling away.
The last Niuadh heard was Pikel chanting "Ooo Eeee Oooo Aaaa Aaa" before they rolled into a tree and disappeared. Niuadh got up from his hiding place and blinked and shook his head. "Weird! Was I dreaming?" Niuadh said as he carried on with his hunting.
Chapter 4: A Dream
Nuiadh finished hunting and laid under a tree for a nap before he headed back.
Niuadh woke up with a start. He had seen the terrible Eye. What did the Eye mean? He wondered. Shaking the sleep from his eyes, he returned to town.
When he got back to town, the first person he saw was the old man by the wheat cart. The old fogey was still tending it, but instead of smiling when he saw Niuadh, the guy looked like he was going to burst a valve.
"Get away, you little thief!" He yelled, turning red in the face. He started threateningly towards the boy.
"There's nothing for your kind around here! Go on! Shoo!"
Niuadh ran, confused. Hadn't he talked to that guy just a little while ago? Why was he acting like he didn't know Niuadh? Once again, when he rounded the corner, he nearly knocked over the same woman that he had before. As before, the woman cried out.
"Watch it, kid!"
Again, Niuadh apologized. "Sorry. I just want to get back to the church to meet with my dad." "What are you talking about? Father Hulk has no children! Who do you think your fooling?!" This time Niuadh stopped. "Who's Father Hulk? My dad is Shep. Don't you know him?" The other woman spoke up. "Shep? There's no one by that name in this town! You're a lying little thief! St. Eva will punish you!"
Now Niuadh was thoroughly freaked out. Something was definitely wrong. Why didn't anyone recognize him? He couldn't understand it as he ran into the church hollering for his father and sister.
"What's wrong child?" A kind, elderly man's voice came from behind him. Niuadh fought back tears as he turned around. Standing there was a bald, mustachioed man in priest's raiments, smiling kindly. "Is there anything this old priest can do?"
"I. . .can't find my family. . ." Niuadh choked out, wiping his eyes on his arm. "I don't know where they are, and no one knows me. . ."
"Well, St. Eva's church always welcomes the family-less and the homeless. We cannot turn away an orphan, no matter what their past is. Even if you are a thief, consider this sanctuary your home."
That night, Niuadh laid awake in bed. A bed that he knew was his, but at the same time was not anymore.
Everyone in town thought he was one of those thieving orphans who preyed on sympathy, so no one trusted him. This town was no longer his home.
He was just closing his eyes when the boy in the bed next to him got up. He was a nomad, with big ears, big brown eyes, and a cherubic look to him. Now he paced back and forth through the room, obviously diappointed.
"Hmmph. What a dive." He muttered to himself. "Not even one piece of gold in here."
The boy sighed and blew out the only candle in the room, placing the cold candle in a pouch. "Guess I might as well take the candles."
He was going to leave, when Niuadh sat up. "Hey, where're you going?"
"Hi, my name's Arafel. You're like me, right?" Arafel smiled a gap-toothed grin. "Pretend you're an orphan, and when they let you in, you loot?"
"Well," Niuadh shifted uncomfortably. "I guess I am an orphan now."
"I'm gonna skip town. There's gotta be better things than this little hovel." Arafel looked him over. "Say, you wanna come? We'll have adventures. . ."
Niuadh thought about it. Gate was no longer his home. He had no home, and the only person who treated him like a friend was this boy. "Why not?"
"Cool! Let's split!"
It was a simple matter to leave the church; Father Hulk had dozed off during his evening prayers, and the front door was unlocked. In a very short time, they left town. They passed through the surrounding forest in silence, and made it out onto the plains.
They'd been walking for an hour when Arafel just stopped mid-step. Nose twitching, he sniffed the air. "Uh oh. . ." He said. The sky was overcast, but he felt that it was coming. "Smells like rain. . ." No sooner than he'd said it, the rain came down. In buckets. Lightning flashed through the sky with terrible intent.
"We gotta get to shelter!" Arafel cried, covering his head with his shirt. Niuadh looked around for a group of trees, or a cave or something. Then he recognized the area they were in. There was an off-limits cavern nearby that they could wait out the storm in.
"This way!" Niuadh yelled over the pounding rain. They found their way to the cavern and made it out of the rain.
"Jeez it's dark in here." Arafel complained. "I can't even see my hands in this darkness." In the dark, Niuadh crossed his arms. "Why don't you light that candle you 'borrowed'?" There was the sound of Arafel slapping himself in the forehead. "The candle! Right!" Spark. Spark. Then the candle caught the flame and lit up. Now they could see for a few meters. "Let's look around." Niuadh said. "We can't go out until the storm ends, so let's see how far this cave goes."
They followed the winding passages deeper into the cave, when the stumbled upon something strange. It didn't stay for long, but they did get a good look at it in the candle light before it disappeared into the dark. It was a long, segmented, armoured tail, with a little spiky fin at the tip. A sort of gray-purple in colour, it was edged with blade-like extensions of carapace.
"Wow." Arafel breathed. "What do you think it is?"
"I dunno." Niuadh replied, staring where it vanished into the darkness. "I don't think we should follow it, though."
But Arafel disagreed. After a few minutes of convincing, Niuadh finally gave in. They followed the tail deeper.
Left. Right. Left. Left. Right. Each time they found it, it was pulled away into the darkness. Finally, they ended up in a dead-ended cave, or cul-de-sac. Bow rushed forward with the candle to illuminate the tail.
Now they saw it was attached to something huge and mean looking. From a crouch, it rose to its full height of nearly twenty feet. Massive, lumpy, heavily armoured targone-like forearms spread to reveal two foot long claws and segmented set of legs. Under-evolved wings sprouting from its back. The head was five feet wide, wedge-shaped with massive horns and three eyes, all of them closed. The creature turned towards them and opened its three eyes. Suddenly, the light from the candle was insignificant; the creature's eyes gave off an evil light that lit up the entire cave.
"Oh! It's a MONSTER!" Was all Arafel could manage before being swatted aside by the creature's tail.
Niuadh cried out in anger and rushed the beast.
"Who are you?" The monster asked in a distorted voice. It used a shell-covered forearm to block Niuadh's pitiful attack with his stick.
"I'm Niuadh, and you hurt my friend! You'll pay for that!" He yelled, swinging uselessly at the monster.
"Niuadh? Are you the child for the mission?" The monster seemed amused and surprised. It lowered its massive head down to his level. "Face me Niuadh. I must know. Face your nightmare!" It swatted him aside, flinging him into the stone wall. He hit it and nearly blacked out. In his daze, he heard the monster tsked him. "Let's see you complete the prophecy. Let's see you open the gate, Niuadh. Prove you are the chosen one. . ."
Niuadh passed out to the sound of the beast's demonic laughter.