Peregrin Old-Fur: Captured

The past two months had been very busy, for me at least. Hortamus had been tutoring me for long hours on the implement. Tonito and I became closer as we gathered plans for the escape. He still had problems trusting me, but he knew I was his ticket to get him out of that wretched dirty cave. Getting used to the place, I was able to sleep better, and I had hopes that I would survive. Not only was I getting to know the draconic language and Bahamut, I had also healed someone for the very first time.
We were at the table and when a stalwart walked by. It accidentally pushed me when it squeezed through tables. When our bodies collided, I lost control of the blade and it went straight into my arm. The pain was sharp and hot where the knife sank into me. I yanked it out of my arm and dropped it on the table. Blood was now squirting everywhere. I lowered myself under the table and grabbed a rag.
“Reshteliporr.” I whispered. I doubted that it would work. I never tried it before, and Hortamus was not assisting me. As I covered over the wound with the rag, a small glimmer of light appeared. It comforted the wound like a mother’s kiss. Only a scratch was left, but the healing had made me very tired. I tied the rag around my arm and pretended that it hurt. After that I was allowed to spend the day in my room.
Tonito and I spent a lot of time during the last two months secretly designing the mace. We made more mental notes than physical, due to the lack of paper. This was stressful at times, but we managed. We had designed the mace to have six wooden sides. Four sides had three spikes sticking out from them. The bottom had the handle attached to it. The top had a spike which would be used for jabbing and slashing. Tonito suggested taking some leather from the humans to make a comfortable handle. The best part about the mace was the ball on the bottom. The ball detached from the weapon, but was still connected by a rope. This was effective for swinging and throwing the weapon. Essentially, the rope allowed the user to extend the weapon. It looked really nice and we were proud of our work. Tonito and I had our plan and it was ready to go.
Wilscar looked around the table and nodded. He squealed at the top of his lungs and charged at a stalwart, bringing a knife with him in case it was needed. The giant goblin raised a foot, in hopes that it would collide with the Halfling. Wilscar swung to the left of its leg, crawled under it, and then forcefully pushed the knife into the skin. The Goblin roared louder than a bear. It jolted its body towards the Halfling. The dark magician appeared from the black fog of the hallway and entered the centre. He squeezed his eyes while analyzing the fight. A better opportunity could not show up. Tonito and I clung to the wall and let the black fog consume us.
“Doshtplen.” I whispered. Two small pebbles of light covered my eyes. Everything was as bright as day. I could see the bloodstains splattered on the walls. Bones piled in a corner were broken and dusty. There were spears and swords strapped on a wall. I ascended up the stairs and onto the platform.
“Stand right there,” I ordered Tonito, pointing him to the middle of the room.
“Where?” The elf asked. “I can’t see.”
“Walk closer…a little to your right…too far…left, left…one step further…there.”
“Wait! I hear footsteps.” My eyes expanded. I had only one shot. Hurriedly, I tossed the mace into air and allowed it to reach the ceiling. I held onto the rope to guide the mace as it arched over the cloak and descended. Luckily, the mace’s weight yanked the cloak off the ceiling and it slowly glided towards Tonito. The feathery cloak gently covered Tonito’s body. I dropped the mace so Tonito could take it.
“Go!” I whispered. The elf vanished and the footsteps became louder. If I ran down the stairs, the man who was the source of the footsteps would think I was stealing. I jumped over the railing. The fall was scary, but quick. I rolled when I landed onto the ground.
“Tokstydaan,” I whispered, and the lights that floated around my eyes faded away.
“Peregrin,” The voice was not raspy, but it was demanding. What are you doing in my lair?”
“Oh you know,” I replied. “Just checking up, wondering how things are going here in the darkness.”
“If you wanted to know how I was, I could have ignored you out there. I didn’t have to do it in here. Say, where is my cloak?”
“Not here,” I replied. Tylovine grunted.
“I really liked that cloak. Well, someone has to pay for it.” I jolted towards the centre. As I ran, my body seemed to refuse orders. My arms stopped moving back and forth, my legs stopped striding. My entire body was still.
“Idiot,” Tylovine angrily replied. “Have you learned nothing from the time you’ve been here?” My body shot backwards, like an arrow released from its tension. A pillar collided with my spine, and I grunted in pain. It felt like a hammer had struck my back. The puppet master assumed control of my hands, and caused them to tangle around the abutting pole. If I could have seen anything in the room, it would have been the room spinning in an awkward roll. The dark magician picked up something, but I did not see what it was.
“If you can see in the dark, you’re still seeing my ugly face.”
“It’s not as clear though; it doesn’t stick out as much in the dark.” I looked down, knowing that my ugly face would be revealed. Tylovine’s heels clicked in my direction.
“When I first spoke to you, I told you that ‘you don’t screw with me’,” He started. “Now, I’ll show you what happens when you do.” He raised his hand backwards, and snapped his wrist forward.