» Mon Mar 14, 2011 5:20 pm
Oh telekinesis...how I would love you so, if those at Beth would just do you right; give you a chance to be more than you were and give you a new lease on life.
A SHORT TALE OF TELEKINESIS:
Jurgen woke to the muffled sound of soft wood snapping beneath the weight of a stealthy man's step as he approached carelessly from the right. The startled Nord stirred from beneath the blanket of thick white mist that the early morning had draqed over his campsite. The fire of the day before was now all but out; its feasting flames had starved in his slumber and its warmth had vanished with the night. A thin wisp of smoke was all that remained of the once healthy blaze. It lazily drifted upwards from the fading orange embers embedded within the small mound of ash to feed the dense fog that now lingered along the edge of this cliff. Jurgen rose swiftly to his feet and tried to clear the fog of sleep and dreams from his mind. He glanced around to try and get his bearings, to locate the brink of the precipice upon which he stood, but the shroud of white was so thick and his sleepy haze so heavy that he couldn't be sure which way it was that the mountain fell away underfoot. He swallowed hard as he squinted and swivelled his head frantically about. He could feel the glare of unseen eyes staring back at him and so he quickly pulled the small waraxe loose from the hook at his belt. Its weight in his hand was well balanced even though it was of a simple iron make. Jurgen didn't need the flashy gold of Dwarven -- to him a blade was a blade.
"Who's there," he called out into the wall of blinding white. His deep voice answered him back with an echo, followed by an arrow in flight.
He spun at the sound of its piercing whistle, but it still managed to find a home in his leg. The battle hardened Nord didn't even flinch at the sting of its penetration, but he did become grossly enraged.
"Show yourself you coward!"
"Or what," a slimy voice did reply.
"Do you know who I am you arrogant fool?"
"An oaf about to meet his demise?"
The Nord was now steaming with fury, as the mystery voice cackled away. Another arrow suddenly carved through the misty morning, but this time Jurgen the Willful held the projectile at bay. His left hand glowed purple with power, while the arrow hovered in front of his face, then with the sound of five knuckles cracking, he balled up his fist and willed the arrow to break.
More missiles came whizzing his way in a hurry, but each was skillfully waved aside by the Nord's telekinetic might. The barrage of arrows slowly sliced a funnel through the heart of the mist, until the form of his would-be assasin appeared in his sight. The Nord rose his waraxe up over his shoulder and flung the deadly weapon away. It spun through the air with a vengeance before embedding itself in the archer's leg.
"Justice...Skyrim style," the Nord proudly stated amid distant cries of pain and dismay, then he reached out his hand -- its palm glowing purple, and summoned his axe back from his victim's torn leg. The hefty blade; now stained crimson, obediently returned from whence it came, while the injured little Bosmer it had bitten screamed in agony and tried to cowardly scurry away.
"Oh not so fast my little friend, the fun hasn't ended for you. I have a task that needs doing...one that I thought you could do."
The Nord calmly hooked his weapon back to his belt then furiously lunged his arms forward -- magically ensnaring his prey. A radiant burst of raw magic turned the white haze purple -- the frightened Bosmer screamed violently as his body was invisibly snagged. He floated about in a fury, hissing and spitting, swinging his arms and kicking his legs. The Nord reeled him in like a fish on a line -- the prized Wood Elf catch of the day.
"I've been looking for the edge of this cliff, you know, ever since a pesky little Bosmer stirred me awake"
Hovering and helpless, the Wood Elf's eyes went wide with understanding as panic flooded his face -- a fitting end for any story -- a gruesome and well-deserved fate .