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*THIS IS A ROUGH DRAFT, CRITICIZE AS YOU SEE FIT*
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“What did he say?” Goblet asked. He frantically twisted his head side to side. The floor light intensified. He raised his hands.
“It cannot be good,” said Claudia. The brightened light gave way to engraved runes along the tiles. She saw some of the same patterns from when they were in the vault all together. “It is a…” she felt herself being cut off as a piece of the floor flew up, wrapped itself into a rope and tied itself around her mouth. The rest of the stone she stood on followed suit. The stone began to peel off in layers and wrap itself around her body. It was cold. Stung. And she could feel any power and energy slowly fade and dissipate from her being. All she got was a sense of drowsiness.
Olivier got to his feet. He rested one hand along the railing and brushed the dirt off his robe with his free hand. He reached behind his robe and pulled out the jagged edged knife from the vault. “This is the knife Colt used to make Siguard obey us and go after Hugh and Goblet.” He shook the knife. It clattered inside its sheath. “This is some of the most accursed magic in the whole world. Yet it is no bigger than a forearm.” He shook his head. “Magic these days.” He looked around and saw that the four remaining party members were restrained by the peeled tiled floors. He removed the knife from the sheath. Its jagged blade refracted the light around them. The runes engraved along the blade dipped the light in before bouncing out.
Hugh was able to muffle out, “What are you going to do?” before the rest of the peeled floor covered his mouth.
Olivier nodded. “What am I going to do?” He dropped to a knee beside Goblet. He raised the blade under his eye. Goblet’s face beamed a hot red. His eyes bulged large. Hot air blasted from his nostrils. Sweat started to bead and drip down his skull. The blade got closer. Olivier tapped the tip of the knife against his skin. Goblet’s skin pushed in an centimeter before Olivier removed the knife and his skin flattened back to normal.
Colt slung his bow over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I have a plan.”
“Of course.” Colt walked up to him. “But like, what is it?” He waved his hands in front of himself. “Do not worry. Just,” Olivier placed a hand on Colt’s shoulder. It was firm, but thin, “get those horrid Blues outside and bring them here.”
“But you were their inside contact.”
“Yes. But,” Olivier flipped the knife blade around and cut Colt’s upper arm. His shirt tore and a thin line of blood bubbled and flowed from the surface.
Colt grabbed his arm. “Wha-what?” he murmured. He took a weak limp into Olivier’s torso.
“Just please get those soldiers.” Olivier opened Colt’s bloodied hand and placed the knife into his hand. Blood smeared Olivier’s palm and fingers. “Make sure they all get a little knick on them.” He pushed Colt away from him. His shoulders were slumped and gait was stumbled and sloppy. His eyes were dilated and drowsy. He took off-beat steps down the hallway. Olivier watched him walk into the shadows of the hallway and disappear.
Olivier turned his attention to the four adventurers tied up on the floor. They were squirming, wriggling, and fighting to be free. Evelyn in particular was kicking and flexing maddly to escape. No such luck came however. The stone bindings gave no pull or give at all. Her skin quickly reddened from the rubbing and irritation from the stone. He smiled at his work. He then dug in his robe sleeve and pulled out a fully bloomed teleportation flower. He held it between his thumb and index/middle finger. The chained up group started to hyperventilate. Olivier snapped his finger. The flowers went up in a furious purple flame. Small portals encircled the four members. They fell down the hole.