Rivers' originals (updated 06 April 2024)

[RiversD]

Some generic-fantasy-setting female elf sneezes. She's part of a group of thieves robbing a wizard's tower, which should be about all you need. Magic-sensitivity sneezes.

 

 

 

“You definitely deactivated the alarm spell?”

Filve could hear Beldry rolling his eyes, even as she concentrated on picking the now-unmagical lock on the window shutters.

“I’m not an amateur, Carver.”

“Do you think he feels it when the spell deactivates?” Filve wondered.

“No. Wizards only feel the spell go if they’re continuous-casting something. For that they have to be paying at least some attention to the spell the whole time it’s active, and most alarm spells are designed so the caster can get some sleep while they’re up. Can’t continuous-cast while you’re asleep unless you’re some kind of archmage.”

Carver grunted. “Guess we’ll just have to trust you on that.”

“Damn right!” the halfling grunted. “I didn’t do three years of spell college to stand here being questioned by a couple of sell-swords. Hurry up!”

Filve swung her legs through the open window and stepped into the Wizard’s parlour.

It was a hexagonal room, with bookcases against two of the walls, large comfortable armchairs set between them. Opposite the bookcases was a long wooden cabinet with a key in its lock, and a statue of a satyr playing with three lovingly-rendered cats. On the floor was a tasteful circular rug in violet and blue.

Filve moved around the room to let the others follow in behind her.

“Doesn’t look like you need me for this one,” she said, coming up to the cabinet. “Can’t be anything too valuable in it if he leaves the key lying around.”

Before she could try the lock, Beldry thrust himself ahead of her, batting her hand away.

“Make no assumptions, elf!” he huffed. “And you’ll let me take first look at anything you’re thinking of touching. Now give me space!”

He gave her a rough shove and she took a couple of steps back, so that her heels were resting on the edge of the central rug. Beldry squinted at the keyhole, not having to bend down to look since the cabinet had been built for members of a taller race.

“Hm, there’s something off with the shine on this key. Give me a minute.”

Beldry began rummaging in his component pouch.

Behind him, Filve was starting to feel uncomfortable. It was as though something was affecting the air she stood in, making it feel thicker, somehow, almost dazing her. Within a few moments it felt as though she was breathing in static electricity, however that would work.

Her throat felt strange. Her pointed nose twitched, unwilling to tolerate the change. The tingling sensation in her nostrils grew stronger as she took another breath, and before her stupefied senses could catch up to what was happening, she sneezed.

“huah’choo!”

Beldry jumped like a startled cat, spinning around to glare at her. She supposed she might have caught him somewhat- the sneeze hadn’t felt wet, but then she hadn’t had the presence of mind to cover it.

The tingling static feeling was building up again. This time, she steepled her hands in front of her face, knowing it couldn’t help but cause her to sneeze again.

“hih...huh’’choo!”

“What’s wrong with you?” Beldry demanded.

Filve tried to think. She had felt something like this before. A tingling thickness of the air, but when?

“I, uh… hhuh’choo!”

…when she stood too close to Beldry during some of his bigger spells, with the longer casting times. Filve forced her increasingly cotton-filled brain to work. This must be the feeling of magic building up in the air, this heaviness crackling with potential, that numbed her mind but made her nose tickle-

““ah’choo! hhuah-choo! s-something magic’s h-hhah’choo! happening…”

Beldry thrust his arm past her, feeling the air, and cursed. He grabbed her arm.

“Get off the rug!”

“huah’choo!”

Filve stumbled forward into blessedly clear air, though her nose was still buzzing with built-up charge.

Beldry bent down and whipped the rug sideways. In the space it left, complex runes glowed in a rose-pink arc.

“Summoning circle!” he yelled. “Everybody run!”

Carver was out of the window in moments. Filve ran towards him, her mind clearing rapidly even as her nose prickled towards one more irritated sneeze.

“hih… hh- hiihh’choo!”

It overtook her as she was halfway out of the window, sending her tumbling into Carver. He set her on her feet and reached back to help Beldry. In the parlour beyond, a large, clawed form was beginning to come into focus above the rug.

“Oh, hells, no,” Carver muttered.

“Go!” Beldry shouted, leaping from the window-ledge.

They ran for their lives.

 

(Don't worry, they lived)