“It got Theodren!” yelled Arturus. “We have to go back for him!
“We have to get out of here!” shouted back Gerolt, pulling Arturus by his wrist. “We have to get to the horses, get a priest, both, I don’t know. But we can’t stay here!”
The two men were running out of the crypt. A half moon was out, and the night sky shone bright with stars. Behind them they heard the shouts of their accomplice, Theodren, followed by an eerie silence. This had all been Theodren’s idea; rob crypts as they moved along the interkingdom roads. Pop a few of the larger tombs open, snag some discarded rings and jewels, then travel swiftly across the roads before the sun peaked over the horizon.
A large rumbling noise started moving towards them at a fast speed. Gerolt didn’t stop to look back, only gripping his friend’s wrist tighter as they made their way towards the large iron fence that bordered the cemetery. Minutes before, he’d been stuffing his satchel with coins. Now, he could feel it getting lighter as items began bouncing out of it during their hasty retreat.
Earlier in the crypt, Arturus had been drawn in by the splendor of the largest casket they’d seen inside the underground crypt. He’d unknowingly triggered a trap of some kind, his right foot pressing down on a pressure plate. The graverobbers were quickly enveloped by a swarm of black smoke from beneath the floor, their torches snuffed out and their vision reduced to nothing. A deep, gravelly moan bellowed next to them. The smoke was brushed aside with a single swipe by a massive arm of a grotesque creature. It had the torso of an ogre, massive arms of a beast, and reversed legs of a goat, though multiplied in size by several fold. It’s arms and shoulders were covered in what appeared to be golden armor. The monster raised its right arm to its left shoulder, and then flung its right arm out. Part of the armor flew off and connected with Theodren, the force of which flung him back two feet.
Theodren’s wrists were now encircled by golden bands. They shined bright with magic as they quickly shrank to tighten around his wrists and then to each other in front of his body, melding together as if of molten metal, yet Theodren didn’t cry out in pain. It all happened in a matter of seconds, setting themselves as tight bracelets with hinges. The monster pulled its arm back again and the new set of manacles pulled Theodren towards the monster.
“Help me!” Theodren yelled. “Do something!”
“Foolish thief,” a voice echoed from around them inside the crypt. “You should never steal from a wizard, alive or dead. Though I have long since passed from this world, my magic is strong. If you want my treasure so badly, why don’t you take a closer look?”
The monster now gripped Theodren by his hands and lifted him up. He squirmed and pulled but the restraints wouldn’t budge. The monster moved to the side of the large casket and pressed Theodren’s wrists into the wall. The metal brightened once more and was soon melded into the wall. The monster moved back, and Theodren hung there by his wrists, his boots kicking but nowhere near close enough to touch the damp floor. The monster turned to the other two men. That was when Gerolt had grabbed Arturus and bolted.
Back outside the crypt, the two were running for their lives. Gerolt felt a tug at his wrist, turning to see that Arturus was on the ground. His ankles were glowing bright and were tightly connected. The monster was now within eyesight, it’s arms and head peeking out from the crypt. Before the two could say anything, the monster pulled its right arm back and Arturus was dragged towards it by the magic. He got a mouthful of grave dirt as he yelled in protest. The monster picked up Arturus and flung him back down into the crypt.
Gerolt was frozen in fear. None of his friends could do magic, and their daggers were not enchanted. He had to run, and he had to start running now. Maybe if he sought shelter in the nearby church it would be enough to repel this monster. He would confess to his crimes, do any form of penance if it meant not being trapped down there. He turned and could see the iron fence maybe twenty paces away. A glint in the corner of his field of vision caught his attention and he ducked. A golden pair of manacles flew over his head, crashing into a nearby headstone.
The monster was moving closer. It’s range and strength were immense, but its movement was slow. Gerolt crawled facedown towards the fence. Headstones were crumbling on his left and right as more magical manacles flew around him. He could feel the ground shake as the monster stepped closer. Now Gerolt was at the bottom of the fence. He drummed up whatever courage he had and jumped to his feet. He readied for as tall a leap he could do. He reached upwards and his hands caught the top of the iron fence, and he began to climb.
His body pressed in suddenly against the bars. His arms were still stretched upwards, his legs tightly holding an attention position. He couldn’t move his arms, his legs, his chest, or even his head. He closed his eyes as bright light enveloped him, and a few seconds later he felt almost completely encased in the metal restraints, save for his face pressed through the bars of the fence. The monster must have willed all the stray manacles at once to converge on him at once. The only parts of him exposed were his nose and eyes. He tasted and smelled gold around his lips.
“I’ll keep you out here as a warning,” the wizard’ voice whispered. It seemed to be speaking through the metal. “No sense ripping up a good fence trying to bring you back to my crypt. Maybe now thieves will finally stay away and let me get some well-earned rest.” The voice went silent. The ground stopped shaking. Gerolt could barely hear anything, and the night was still well away from sunrise.
Manacled Monster! (M/MMM)
I hope there’s more to this!