The Glass Prison - Monte Cook, ebook
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The Glass PrisonMonte CookForgotten Realms SingleScanned, formatted and proofed by DreamcityEbook version 1.0Release Date: November, 10 th, 2003©1999 TSR, Inc. All Rights Reserved.All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use ofthe material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of TSR, Inc.Distributed to the hobby, toy, and comic trade in the United States and Canada by regional distributors-Distributedworld-wide by Wizards of the Coast, Inc. and regional distributors.FORGOTTEN REALMS and the TSR logo are registered trademarks owned by TSR, Inc.All TSR characters, character names, and the distinctive likenesses thereof are trademarks owned by TSR, Inc.TSR, Inc., a subsidiary of Wizards of the Coast, Inc. All rights reserved. Made in the U.S. Cover art by Fred Fields.Map by Sam Wood.First Printing: April 1999Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 99-88136ISBN: 0-7869-1343-6 21343XXX1501PrologueRun. The mournful baying of the demonic hounds rolled across the landscape from behind Vheod.He couldn't be sure exactly how far behind him they were or when they might catch up to him. All hecould do was run. The thorns of the gnarled brier that covered the plain tore at his flesh as he ran, but hedid what he could to ignore the pain. The malevolent brier hungrily absorbed Vheod's blood, not allowinga single drop to touch the ground. He didn't worry about the wounds. Vheod was grateful no trail ofblood would betray his passage. The thorns drank it all in.Vheod Runechild's body ached from hours of desperate flight, much of which took him through theFields of Night Unseen, a meadow filled with vampiric thorns. His limbs grew more and more resistant toeach step. Cold sweat ran down his back and clung to his neck. Vheod longed to draw his sword andhack his way through the brier, but he feared leaving an obvious path that his pursuers could trace.Take the intelligent approach, he kept telling himself. Vheod knew the challenge was to not allow hisfear and exhaustion to overwhelm his thoughts. He had to keep a cool head and ignore the deadly forcesthat marshaled against him. Startling images of the terrible, hungry mouths of the vorrs that chased himcame unbidden into his mind. He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes, forcing himself onward.The Taint formed a new, beckoning shape on his arm. The crimson, tattoo-like mark flowed acrosshis flesh like a thing alive. Its changing shape resembled a hand slowly urging him forward. He ignored it.The field of black thorns flowed over hill after hill. Nowhere offered Vheod relief from their constantclawing at his legs as he ran, the vorrs close behind him. The sky above him bore a reddish-brown huethat recalled either rust or dried blood. Not even the whisper of a breeze came to alleviate the dry,parched heat. The thorns required blood, not water to live. The skies of the nether planes were selfishwith their gifts, and usually bestowed moisture only in the form of dangerous storms. Vheod, however,would welcome a storm at this point-it might aid in his escape. Knowing that wishing for help from theenvironment in this plane of darkness and evil would avail nothing, Vheod pushed himself to keeprunning.If I stop, he thought, Nethess's hunters will find me and will offer no mercy.The rush of air as he fled pulled at his long, brick-red hair. It fluttered along with the tattered, violetcloak that whipped behind him like an extra, frantically flailing limb. It caught on thorns and slowed him,probably even left behind bits for his pursuers to find. Reaching behind him he gathered as much of it ashe could and wrapped its length around his arm so it would no longer tangle in the twisted, pointed brier.He wished, too, that he could shed his black steel breastplate. Vheod would do anything for speed now.For a time the only sounds Vheod could hear were his own labored breaths, the soft footfalls hisboots made on the ground, and the tearing of his flesh by the thorns. The vorrs howled again, their bayinglouder than before. His fear granted speed to his feet, and he ran on faster and faster. He veered to theleft, then to the right.The hounds bayed again, louder still, and from right behind him. Had they caught his scent? He couldhear the blood-lusting-no, soul-lusting-glee in their cries. He thought he counted three, if not four, of themfrom their sounds. He had to think of a plan and quickly.Let them come to you, he told himself. Fight on your terms, not theirs.The terrain here rose and fell in rough, jagged little hills amid the thorns. It occurred to Vheod thatperhaps he could use that fact to his advantage. Again he veered to one direction, then another, but hismind focused instead on a plan-and on picking his moment carefully.Leaping into a narrow gully that probably once guided a small brook, Vheod drew his sword andspun even as he struggled to keep his footing. The ravine was deeper than he realized. His foot slippedunder him, but somehow he managed to stay standing, though his body twisted around awkwardly. Thefirst hound leaped over the gully, thinking Vheod had done the same. As it flew over the gully, Vheodsprang upward with his blade. It was barely within his reach, and the lunge sent Vheod tumblingoff-balance, yet he felt the tip of his sword strike something as he slipped. The yelp from the creature wasshrill, its gut torn open. The blow sent it spinning around in midair. The vorr landed to Vheod's side, notto rise again.The next vorr dived down into the ravine, the bristling, brownish-black hair on its back as rigid asdaggers. Vheod pulled himself to his feet and lashed at it with his sword, but the blade cut through onlyempty air. Abyssal magic had granted these creatures incredible speed. The vorr lunged. Its bite almostcaught a bit of Vheod's leg in its jagged, frothing jaws. Vheod's second blow split the gaunt, ragged headof the beast in two.He turned. The glaring, hungry eyes of the third vorr focused on him and narrowed. Thin legs spreadwide, as it thrust its head at him. Savage jaws snapped at him again and again. Vheod pushed the hungrybeast back with desperate parries and thrusts.As he fought to hold the beast back, his ears caught the sounds of a fourth hound on its way. Vheodknew he was in trouble. He had to try something different-and quickly. He reached inward. There wereblack portions of Vheod's soul that he only rarely allowed himself to see, but now he would try anything.He didn't close his eyes but instead simply looked within rather than without. His body raging with heatand sweat, at the center of the darkness within him he found his own cold, icy heart. It was an empty andmotionless place, but he found what he was looking for. In a few short instants, Vheod called on thepower innately entwined about the inhuman portion of his soul. Born half tanar'ri, magic flowed within hisveins as surely as blood. It came eagerly when he called to it-perhaps too eagerly.A tingle of chill fingers ran across his skin as he filled himself with the unleashed power. It felt asthough the cold would eat away at his skin from the inside, and his muscles all tensed at once. Tappinginto that Abyssal energy, he forced the ground away from himself. He pushed down with all his innermight. Beads of sweat ran down his temples and even into his eyes, but he kept them open. Even in theshort time it took to call on the power, he was terrified to take his eyes off the demonic hound.As he concentrated, Vheod rose into the air, levitating out of the reach of the attacking vorr. As hedid, the last of the tracking hounds reached the top of the ravine right at his level. Watching its prey floatup into the air past it, the beast stood wide-eyed long enough for the swing of Vheod's blade to slashacross its face. A second blow brought the creature's life to an end. Vheod looked down at the vorr stillin the ravine as it snarled up at him. If the beast had been capable of speech, Vheod knew that snarlwould be a curse. Muscles aching, he realized he would have to end this battle soon. The long chase hadweakened him too much for a protracted fight.The beast's hateful gaze unnerved him, and Vheod couldn't stay aloft forever. Rather than wait anylonger, he released his grip on the power that held him aloft and let himself drop. As he fell, he pointed hissword down. Blade-first, he crashed into the horrid hound. Vheod's own grunt on impact was drownedout by the vorr's shrill bellow.As Vheod tried to untangle himself from the beast and get to his feet, his hair covered his face.Seeing nothing, he heard only snarls and whines. By the time he stood, the snarling had stopped. Vheodpushed his hair away from his eyes. His sword remained thrust into the vorr, pinning the now still creatureto the ground.Vheod knew that more would come. He stood for a moment over the bodies of the creatures he'dslain, hoping to catch his breath. Syrupy slime and blood covered his tattered clothes and armor. Pantingout tired breaths, his body's aches seemed to beg him to sit or lay-even amid the pricking thorns. He hadto push himself onward, however. He couldn't allow himself to think of anything but his goal. He had toescape ...
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