Keepers of the Glade

A huge gong was bellowing deep within the castle of the Overking Bathezid. His son lay writhing on the ground before the Keepers of the Glade, his mighty limbs loosing their final few moments of impotent rage upon the cold stone beneath him. Turning almost in unison the remaining Keepers began sprinting for the doorway, desperate to beat the mobilizing Di'zok Royal guardsmen to the ancient withered Queen.
With despair filling their eyes the keepers were cut short, watching the massive stone doorway that led into the princes ornamental throne room swing ponderously shut, and hearing the firm fatal click resound as it closed. The princes dying breaths seemed to mock the trapped warriors who gazed with desperation, fear, or anger upon their entrapment. Grriffon quickly pushed his way to the front of the pack clustered around the door and with sweat gleaming on his face, soaking his beard, set to work on the lock that was attempting to damn them all.
A few tense moments was all it took for the mechanical genius of Grriffon to release the party, which catapulted down the corridor, cutting down sorcerers and warriors who hurled themselves mindlessly in the Keepers path to delay their progress to the Queen.
Unnoticed in the helter skelter rush for glory (and death) a shadow slipped up the ramp away from the Queens chamber. Guards rushed by, their foul serpentine speech grating on Haldin's ears.
Why in the name of Brell's bloody beard does he permit these stinking lizards to dwell in his holy rock!
His irritation took nothing from his skill, honed and tested thousands of times, and Haldin slipped past the battleready guards through the shadows as though he were one himself.
Now the only problem will be getting over the...
No...
It's too easy, entirely too easy...
The gate stood wide open before him, a single beam of sunlight just barely struggled down into the depths of the cave calling Haldin out of the magic laden, lizard stench that permeated the Di'zok brood's cave. A brood missing a prince, and a prince missing a scroll... a very special scroll that would soon make a mage miss a great deal of coin. Grinning with anticipation Haldin slipped from shadow to shadow across the open courtyard and stepped out the doorway.
That was when he knew he was in trouble, because that was when the tripwire went off.
Cursing violently Haldin abandoned his stealthy tread and began sprinting towards that faint glimmer of daylight that called to him like the very wellspring of hope.
Launched off his feet by a bolt of magical energy Haldin fell into the chasm below the drawbridge, body spasming as electrical energy ripped through his stocky dwarven frame until he hit the water far below and was thrown downstream as the powerful current and unconciousness consumed him.

Hours, perhaps days later, Haldin awoke on the bank of the Lake of Ill Omen, muttered a few choice words to himself about the appropriateness of the location, and held a soaking wet scroll to the sky with a devilish grin.

(*disclaimer*) all persons places or times that don't match up are used for the sake of telling a good story, get over it.... I will write more in teh future if people like this, if not, I will keep it to myself

Haldin Hidenstab
50 rogue
Keepers of the Glade