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Writer: Nymaya
Date Sat May 29 14:30:58 2010
To New_Thalos All Keylan ( Reklah ) ( RP )
Subject The Line
The hours before dawn always seemed darkest and within the desert, oft
held a bitter chill.
They were hours she had come to enjoy, though there was a lament to be found
in them as her gaze trained southward, toward a black Keep that contained
many of the answers she sought alongside many more questions yet.
Her sword drew a slow half circle in the sand at her feet as her dark blue
gaze angled down. She could feel something coming, in the shadows that
passed before the face of the black moon. In the wind that ran etheral
fingers through her long silver hair and whispered incomprehensible things
within her ears.
She felt it ring true down into the depths of her soul - and lifted her gaze
beneath long lashes to mark the heady presence that stepped into the sword
circle.
She'd have known him anywhere, in any form, in any reincarnation. From the
black hair that hung to his shoulders through which, her fingers had run
time and again; the brown eyes - now black with intent - that had captivated
her so completely, to the lips that had uttered portents to change a world
within.
He stood opposite her, a long black blade grasped in one hand, a shield in
the right. His armor was tarnished, as if it had withstood the flames of
Hell but carried the scars even as he did.
There was nothing in what she saw now within his gaze that suggested the man
she knew remained.
"Does the Abyss still have you?" She breathed, her voice a ghostly thing.
As if she'd already crossed over that precarious line.
No. Came his answer and one black boot took a step closer, angling into a
stance she'd seen him take before.
She knew she'd die if this happened - here and now. She was not his match.
She wouldn't back down though, and she knew he knew that.
It has you.
And he took another step closer to the line that kept them apart. The wind
arose then, lifting about them both as his eyes narrowed, promising so many
more things worse than death.
The whisper in the wind breathed otherwise though.
And she awoke with a gasp so violent and deep that white spots burst before
her nearly sightless eyes, her lithe form arching slightly from the bed in
the throes of the nightmare.
The first hand that touched her shoulder broke with a clear resounding snap
as her own hand shot out in response, dropping the young man to his knees
with a cry of pain. The second about died as her left fist connected
solidly along a specific point upon his throat, nearly crushing the airway,
when he tried to intervene.
"Nymaya."
The voice was familiar, threading power and command with elegant ease, and
she found herself blinking back unto full awareness. She still had the
broken wrist of the first apprentice in her grasp while he writhed and the
second had collasped, blood dripping from his mouth, hands unconsciously
clinging to his throat.
This wasn't the first time she had injured those attempting to rouse her
from ill rest but as she looked upon them, she felt a moment of intense,
black rage that they still lived - followed by profound embarrassment that
she had lost control and injured the hapless fools. Even in a warded room.
What was she destined to become if she could not contain herself?
When her gaze finally settled upon the robed form of her brother standing in
the archway, she could barely bring herself to believe that she saw concern.
It was easier to handle his mockery and harsh sense of humor. She turned
away from what she saw in his eyes as she released the apprentice with a
mumbled apology and strode to the southern window. She had no idea if her
dreams were supposed to mean anything beyond what they tended to stand for
in the moment, but what remained was never simple to navigate.
Writer: Kestian
Date Sat May 29 23:26:50 2010
Writer: Keylan
Date Sun May 30 01:50:19 2010
To New_Thalos All Nymaya Dar'shin ( RP ) Imm
Subject The Summoning
The altar that Keylan stood before was low, a long block of obsidian, the
newest stick of incense barely managing to instill its scent over the foul
smoke that had permeated the room. Unholy symbols had been burned into it,
glowing now with the same infernal pulse as the large crimson circle of
power at his back.
Exhaustion dragged at him, but with so much power beating at his back, he
couldn't afford one wrong step. Not with what he was dealing with.
Black and red candles adorned the altar and the floor, placed precisely in
accordance with the rituals he had performed, and yet more stood upon tables
that sat against the circular walls. They All seemed bound, each leading a
path toward the pure gold chalice at sat directly center upon the altar,
filled with a red viscous liquid. Before it, an onyx bracelet set with nine
perfect rubies, eight of which now swirling with black mist.
A hellish purple flame erupted behind him, bathing the room with sinuous
shadows, and he knelt again to lift the bracelet. Arcane words whispered
forth, sounding as abysmal as the forces he was playing with but smooth and
confident as they left his lips.
The purple flame pulsed once, violently, and in its place a twisted
black-skinned creature with small wings appeared. It hadn't enough time to
move let alone discover just who had summoned it before a bluish symbol
shimmered in the air within the circle, before sealing itself into the very
flesh of the imp's face - and the last ruby in the bracelet fell into
darkness.
'How dare you, mortal! ' The creature screamed, its voice high and shrill,
almost enough to make the ears bleed.
Keylan rose back to his feet, taking a moment to smooth his robes, and
turned to approach the circle of power, making sure not to disturb any of
its edges or step within. Holding the bracelete before him, he held it up
for the imp to view.
'You are mine for now. Disobey me and suffer. ' To punctuate his words,
the newly darkened gem began to glow and the imp fell to the ground,
screaming and writhing. 'Do we have an understanding? '
'Y-yes, Master. ' It hissed as the glow of the stone dimmed, allowing the
creature to grovel instead.
'Please me and you will be rewarded with your freedom. ' Keylan went on,
his tone cold and unforgiving. 'I need information, on a creature within
your realm by the name of Uvall. Find out who and what manner of demon it
is."
Revealing a terrible grin, the imp grovelled again before hissing, its voice
a grating gurgle, 'As you wish. ' And with a wave of Keylan's hand, it
dispersed.
He felt his shoulders slump and he closed his eyes before slipping the
bracelet into a pocket, the almost feral image of his sister before his
mind's eye.
Nine imps in one night. I'm surprised I survived. He thought to himself
as he turned around to depart the room, his mouth twisting with a sardonic
smile. I suppose they may yet find a way to turn on me, but not before I
find what I'm seeking.
Needing rest in a terrible way, he warded the archway and the door of the
room before he continued down the hallway, intent on his chambers and rest
even as the dawn began to light the eastern horizon.
Writer: Ardeshir
Date Sun May 30 18:55:18 2010
Writer: Ardeshir
Date Mon May 31 12:39:43 2010
To All New_Thalos Nymaya Ryllae Ursah Dar'shin IMM RP
Subject That's not a knife...
Igor pulled the blade out from behind hs counter to let me see it.
"This; is the Khopesh, the "sickle-sword", in Thalosian known as sappara. A
typical khopesh is fifty to sixty centimeters in length, though smaller
examples do also exist. The blade is only sharpened on the outside portion
of the curved end. This makes the khopesh not a true sword, but a
specialized "battle-axe-sword". However, unlike an axe, the khopesh does
not make push-cuts, but rather slashes, like a Sabre. It is a very
Thalosian weapon, my Prince.... "
It looked rather unwieldly, honestly. Frightening to see coming at you, but
unwieldy. It would need a great deal of practice. Luckily, time was
something I had plenty of, and Nymaya would make sure that I learned to use
it well. My bruises still had bruises. Ah well, the burned hand teaches
best
This blade would take some dexterity to use effectively. More attention to
my footwork as well as learning to slash more and not thrust. I wondered
about how well a pair of them would work together. Probably much more
elegant and deadly in my head than I would be. At least to start with.
Grace, however, I had. Ryllae had been shown that when she asked me to
dance with her. I had Mother to thank for that. Dancing lessons, music
lessons, instrument lessons, All before I was allowed swordplay lessons.
Amazing how close dancing was to fighting. And I despised dancing. At
least until I was dancing with Ryllae. That was pretty nice. Dancing with
a nice looking young lady was much better than dancing with an aged
instructor.
But I digress. And daydream.
"I'll take this one, a smaller one, and two practice blades of the same
sizes. " Maybe I will catch Nymaya off guard with these next time we spar.
Yes. And the Vallenwoods will be welcoming me with open arms soon
thereafter. Also, pigs will fly, goblins will bathe, and All of Gareth's
Knights will die of rust poisoning.
Writer: Emylae
Date Mon May 31 18:38:00 2010
Writer: Emylae
Date Mon May 31 18:43:05 2010
Writer: Aoibheann
Date Mon May 31 20:04:14 2010
Writer: Emylae
Date Tue Jun 1 11:33:59 2010
Writer: Emylae
Date Tue Jun 1 11:36:02 2010
Writer: Kaerlia
Date Tue Jun 1 12:40:16 2010
Writer: Kaerlia
Date Tue Jun 1 12:46:32 2010
Writer: Emylae
Date Tue Jun 1 13:56:31 2010
Writer: Emylae
Date Tue Jun 1 13:59:47 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Tue Jun 1 16:23:15 2010
Writer: Emylae
Date Tue Jun 1 17:58:52 2010
Writer: Aoibheann
Date Tue Jun 1 20:31:12 2010
Writer: Emylae
Date Tue Jun 1 23:04:28 2010
Writer: Aoibheann
Date Tue Jun 1 23:27:43 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Tue Jun 1 23:38:20 2010
Writer: Xelin
Date Wed Jun 2 04:06:12 2010
Writer: Emylae
Date Wed Jun 2 05:49:53 2010
Writer: Bradlee
Date Wed Jun 2 06:00:09 2010
Writer: Gayb
Date Wed Jun 2 08:48:52 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jun 2 18:26:38 2010
Writer: Lavinah
Date Wed Jun 2 21:13:56 2010
To All immortal religion dragoth
Subject Time Returned
Time passed. This was inevitable.
She couldn't remember what had happened after that day in Althainia, not
anything past reaching the fountain as He had directed. She had made gifts
of her things, trinkets really - except one that would need reclaiming
and...
Black. His blackness.
Time passed. Hours or a decade, she wasn't sure. It mattered not.
Things were different - change was His, and as such it was also inevitable.
But for everything she felt and saw changed around her, she was much the
same. Skinnier, if that was even possible, but that could be just wistful
thinking. Her hair was the same length, even the color was unchanged once
she washed out the dirt. The maggots were new, but quickly expelled with a
forceful vomit. Looking down at the floor of the garden where she woke,
they amused her.
And with that, she began again. A few short notes to some beings of note
the off to a sermon being announced throughout the land.
She never wondered if she was remembered, or how if she was.
Things had changed with her in the most subtle of ways. It would take more
time passing for her to realize it - her limp slightly more pronounced, her
voice quieter, her eyes now more black then green and countless other,
minute changes. In time, perhaps, she would realize what they meant.
Writer: Bryanna
Date Wed Jun 2 23:12:54 2010
Writer: Arreana
Date Wed Jun 2 23:56:58 2010
To All Justice Arkane Alerius
Subject Unexpected Exile - Flight (ii)
The time that elapsed was much shorter than what it felt like to Arreana. The
mysterious third man had drawn closer to her now so that she could feel the heat
of his breath on her. Whatever he was, it didn't feel right and she quickly began
to hush the part of her that hoped he was friendly, that he would save her. That
part of her was silenced entirely as he suddenly spoke, 'The others are fools, I
know. But it does not change my allegiance, for HE is not a fool. I could capture
you easily, resisting will only make it take longer, make it more difficult for
you in the end when I present you to him. Be rational here, and come quietly, hmm?'
She could not see, but she hoped that her blue eyes were glaring at the audacious
assassin. She reached out to slap him, but his reflexes were quick and he grabbed
on to her wrist, quickly binding her in an iron-grip of a hold. His emotionless
eyes stared back at her, 'Bad decision.' he said, though he did nothing more.
Something occurred to her in that moment, and she leaned forward, giving off the
impression of submission as she did so. The man took the bait and relaxed his grip
on her wrist, allowing her face close to his. Then, just as soon as she felt her
wrist was free enough to slip out of his hand, she let out a deafening screech.
The move was suddenly and entirely surprising to her assailant. Disorientated by
the pain of the screech, and the sudden lack of sound that engulfed his world, he
stumbled backward and fell out of the tree to the ground below.
The crunching sound upon his landing was rather sickening to hear. But Arreana
knew she had to act quickly, she couldn't let her reflexive emotions take over.
Without a thought she leaped from the tree branch and glided to the ground with
outstretched wings. By the time that the only one of her attackers left alive
registered that another of his comrades had fallen, and that Arreana was still
alive and not captured, she had grabbed a dagger from the assassin's broken body.
She was unsure of what to do with it, but she felt safer armed than unarmed.
The final attacker charged her in the fully fury of his emotions. Even if she had
been attacked unprovoked, she had resulted in the death of two of his comrades.
She was, to him, the violent enemy. His attack was borne out of vengeance, lust
for blood, and a certain desperation to live. His desperation, however, made his
attack ill-aimed, and Arreana easily parried the blow despite her inexperience.
His charge ended several feet behind her, and they each turned to face each other.
In his eyes was the burning of hatred and loathing. In hers, she knew, though she
could not see, there was fear, loss, amd compassion. She desperately wanted to
find a way out without killing.
'Stop!' she cried, plaintively. Her words were loud and clear, and, for a moment,
he did stop. He had turned, but had not charged her again. Then his eyes narrow
and his body tensed in the preparations of resuming attack.
'...this is pointless.' she continued, 'why do you fight for a man who wipes out
entire races who weren't a threat for him?'
Her opponent's eyes were suddenly wild and feral looking, she shook a little
involuntarily as she dreaded the response that was most inevitably going to come.
She wanted to shut her eyes, to close out the mad look, but she couldn't afford to
give up anything that would make her defense weaker. She knew this man wanted to
kill her right now, and he was perfectly capable. It was in her best interest to
get him to simply not attack. Though the concept sounded far more accessible than
it truthfully was.
As her attacker gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his weapon, a passing
thought of 'how am I going to live through this?' went through her head. Her
slender fingers wrapped tighter around her dagger as she prepared to respond.
Writer: Arreana
Date Wed Jun 2 23:57:56 2010
Writer: Eryc
Date Thu Jun 3 05:10:43 2010
Writer: Eryc
Date Thu Jun 3 05:15:40 2010
Writer: Ardeshir
Date Thu Jun 3 07:16:46 2010
To All New_Thalos IMM RP Drakkara Nymaya
Subject The first lesson
There is so much of my home to explore, there is no way you can see it
all. Just when you think you have, a new side street appears where there
was not one before, a doorway you have never seen before stands out to you,
or something you could swear was there yesterday is now gone.
The Jewel is alive. I firmly believe this.
So I was not surprised to find myself walking down a street I had never seen
before. It led me to a darkened alleyway ending in an overshadowed doorway.
Over the doorway was a faintly drawn symbol to the Dark Mother herself.
Definitely my kind of place.
There was no actual door in the doorway, so I did not bother knocking, but
instead just walked right in. The doorway was on the eastern wall of the
building and as I walked in the first thing I noticed was a seven-tiered
platform in the southwest corner of the room. An ebony statue of Drakkara
in All her dark beauty stood in the middle of the platform surrounded on all
sides by dark purple and black flowers. Not black as in dead, but black as
in fully in bloom and the color of midnight. Braziers of incense burned
around the platform, only enhancing the full effect of standing in awe of
this holy place.
The rest of the room was mostly bare with just woven reed mats on the floor.
I was so enraptured by the room that when I heard the voice speaking to me,
my hands went directly to my khopesh.
"Salaam, Prince Ardeshir. Please, do not be alarmed. I mean you no harm.
Blessings of our Mother upon you, and welcome to our Kalari, or training
grounds. I am asaan Nadir, master and teacher here. You are, of course,
welcome here. " He stood only about five and half feet tall, dressed only
in a simple, threadbare robe.
As salaam-alaykum, assan. Tell me, training grounds for what?
"An excellent question, my Prince. Here we teach Kalari Payat, which
translates directly as 'school of fighting'. Aside from being an art of
self-defence, the ancient Thalosian saints and ascetics formulated Kalari
Payat as a form of physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual
development. They realised that the greatest accomplishment is not martial
skill but 'moksha' or enlightenment, so Kalari Payat served as a vehicle to
attain higher levels of spirituality and thereby attain self realisation. A
fully trained practitioner should be conscious of any movements in the
surrounding area and be prepared to defend themselves at All times. And in
this Kalari... We worship the Dark Mother, Drakkara. "
I had to wait a moment, quietly thinking, and letting it All soak in before
responding. "Why have I never heard of this place, or this art? And why,
in All my travels in the Jewel, have I never found this place before? "
"Because, my Prince, it was not meant to be before now. Either you were not
ready or it was not ready for you. But now is the time. You are here for a
reason, and that reason is to learn. Now, shed your weapons and khalat and
take your place beside me. " As simply as that he spoke, then turned from
me and took a wide legged, very solid stance, just waiting for me.
Who was I to keep him waiting?
Writer: Aoibheann
Date Thu Jun 3 18:59:17 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Fri Jun 4 17:04:49 2010
Writer: Aoibheann
Date Fri Jun 4 22:22:24 2010
Writer: Peridur
Date Fri Jun 4 23:55:49 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Sat Jun 5 21:32:34 2010
Writer: Ryllae
Date Sun Jun 6 23:57:56 2010
Writer: Ardeshir
Date Mon Jun 7 16:03:47 2010
Writer: Xelin
Date Mon Jun 7 19:44:41 2010
Writer: Nazmi'len
Date Mon Jun 7 20:42:45 2010
Writer: Datai
Date Tue Jun 8 02:06:10 2010
Writer: Aoibheann
Date Tue Jun 8 16:30:58 2010
Writer: Aoibheann
Date Tue Jun 8 16:32:24 2010
Writer: Aoibheann
Date Tue Jun 8 16:35:14 2010
Writer: Aoibheann
Date Tue Jun 8 16:36:57 2010
Writer: Tongpu
Date Tue Jun 8 17:33:40 2010
Writer: Tiernyn
Date Wed Jun 9 02:17:33 2010
To Shalonesti Shalonesti_Kingdom Seraphim Zypher All ( RP )
Subject Outside of Time part 1 - The Premonition
It began with a low stirring of unease that turned his gaze skyward.
The tops of the trees - great vallenwoods, elms, oaks and maples All bowing
before a burst of warm southern wind and followed by the ominous rise of
clouds cresting above them.
The sun's light became hazy, yet another portent of the storm brewing, and
then All the wind simply stopped. It seemed the calm before the storm but
he could sense that there was still time before those dark clouds broke open
to let fall upon the thirsting wood.
Morning had dawned three hours earlier and he'd been up before it, sword
drawn and ready to meet the eager blade of his Aspirant charge. The elf
with the flashing emerald eyes, rosy blond hair and a ready smile. Her
energy enticed him and they'd sparred until her House duties had called.
So it was that he stood upon the balcony of his rooms, slowly becoming aware
of an underlying current that filled him with disquiet. And it wasn't the
storm building strong and high to the southwest that had brought it on.
No, instead, he felt his senses drawn toward the shadows in the direction of
the deep wood of the forest. Shadows he knew well, along with sacred paths
and hidden places.
The longer he stood there, the greater the sense of urgency that settled
upon his mind. But it wasn't until a knock upon his door, followed by the
presence of a Page asking him some inane question, that he stirred.
Interrupting the well-meaning young elf, he spared only enough time to relay
the message that he needed to depart quickly before his path lead him from
the expensive suite of rooms and out. Away.
He took no pack, only the armor and weapons he wore, as his long legs lead
him surely from the populated city, through the well traversed forest and
into paths and places known only by the elves who had heard the call of
weariness.
For two days and two nights he traveled without rest, until evening found
him in a familiar glade following a line of ancient oaks. In times of
festival, she had adorned them with streamers of gold, green and red.
Placed carven faces upon their old, rounded trunks or strung wreathes of
colorful wildflowers All around. Fond memories, those. But he was
suspicious now.
Tension seemed to grip his chest and his footfalls held a greater deal of
caution, his very silence telling the tale of what he felt drawing him ever
closer to the cottage settled far back. It sat a scenic picture at the end
of the glade, a low valley they had claimed for themselves.
Images filled his head as he approached, of burning houses and bodies. Of
the pain and anguish that had filled him to see his family broken by a dark
elven raid. How many years now had it been since he'd tracked that ancient
memory to New Thalos? He shook his head and rounded the pathway, to see the
cottage standing still and serene within late day shafts of light. It had
been built hard up against a cove of tall vallenwood, built to encircle a
pristine statue of Austinian yet surrounded by a natural spring.
Its walls were soft yellow, like the memory of a Spring dream. Its shutters
a light green to match and its roof, tiled brown to revere the bark of the
trees. It was quaint, to match their equaled tastes - and untouched.
Yet the current of unrest was not set at ease.
Writer: Cairhien
Date Wed Jun 9 08:07:31 2010
To Knighthood Nordmaar Gwaine All Nadrik ( Immortal RP )
Subject Journal Entry II: Will and Mind
'The mettle that is the foundation of the holy warrior requires both a
strong arm and an eye for battle, strong will, and keen mind, to see our
principles upheld. '
The words of the Lord Knight echoed in Cairhien's mind as he once again
found himself holed up in Gareth Keep's library.
'From w'ere ah come from sir, aets All arm and eye. ' was the lancer's
response. The discussion was a somewhat lengthy one and by its conclusion,
it was ascertained that though change had begun in the area of Cairhien's
"will and mind", there was still some way to go.
In order to complete the process, the Lord Knight had assigned him two
additional tasks apart from his tasks for rank. The first of these tasks
was finding a suitable squire to mentor. The second involved studying the
archives for that which is expected of those seeking the path of the Holy
Warrior. Cairhien was also to make frequent journal entries stipulated
towards his newfound knowledge.
As such, the Nordmaarian soon found himself spending more time perusing
ancient texts, writing journal entries and even composing verse than on
patrol or in battle.
''ope ah dinnae turn into ah bloodae bookworm.' The highlander grumbled.
Of the two tasks set before him, Cairhien had already completed the first.
He had overseen the final tasks of Page Callathiel Rhyask and after an
interview with the Lord Knight, made her his squire.
Rolling up the scroll he had been working on, Cairhien proceeded to lift
a candle from the desk and dripped hot wax onto the edge of the parchment.
He then pressed the ring bearing his family seal onto the cooling wax.
Now All that was left was to deliver the scroll to the records keeper to
make squire Rhyask's promotion official.
Learning forward, his hands rubbing at his temples, the knight exhaled
loudly. 'Ah hope t'eres not much more o' t'is paperwork stuff left fer mae,
t' bloodae do... W'y couldn't th' path t' paladinhood involve smitin' evil
o'er th' 'ead repeatedlae instead.'
Grumbling and cursing, the knight rose from his seat. After returning his
quill and ink pot to their rightful place, he snuffed out the lone candle
upon his desk and began to make his way to the record keeper's office.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jun 9 16:14:15 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Wed Jun 9 20:35:35 2010
Writer: Emylae
Date Wed Jun 9 20:38:03 2010
Writer: Corrynthea
Date Wed Jun 9 23:48:30 2010
Writer: Lunez
Date Thu Jun 10 05:14:16 2010
To All Nostra Conclave Immortal RP Kantilles Necrucifer
Subject What Can Change The Nature Of Man - 1 -
The Apprentice sat at a large round table, surrounded by texts of all
sorts, both recent and old. He toiled over Balanx scrolls revealing
accounts of ancient battles and unworldly relics. He mused over political
manuscripts from across the ages telling tales of the rise and fall of lost
civilizations and races.
This process would go on for days at a time within the doorless and
windowless vastness of the large library of his Master's private sanctuary
in the sky. The very floors themselves would invigorate All who reside
within it with the timeless patience and vigor of an eternity. The archive
of knowledge sealed away within the library was unmatched across Algoron,
harboring the infinite knowledge of the ages past, present, and future.
A man in black stepped from a nearby shadow and into view through an unseen
entry and approached his Apprentice. "Lunez, what have you learned within
this room? "
The apprentice was dressed in the ashen garbs of his Order, given to All of
the Apprentices of Shinalstin. Lunez looked up with unknowing child-like
eyes at his mentor. "Master Nostra, as per your instruction, I have studied
the nature of man and I have determined that they are a destructive force
bent on repeating the same mistakes over and over again. "
Nostra gazed down upon his young apprentice through the knowing eyes of
infinite ages and asked, "Then how shall my Dominion of this world come
to be, if they are but unknowing animals of their own pathetic design?"
Nostra insisted that it be spoken about the races of the world as if they
were helpless ants and referring to them as "they" as if he and his
apprentice were of a privileged existence, burdened with the task of
enduring the resident sentience of Algoron. "I do not know, Master
Nostra. "
Nostra nodded prophetically and as if anticipating a predestined answer from his
apprentice, he placed a book down in front of Lunez. It's leather bound
cover read, "Ibidor the Heretic." "Read this book, my young apprentice,
for it will reveal to you something about yourself. "
Lunez bowed his head before his master and turned his attention towards the
book in front of him, opening it's cover and beginning his descending gaze
upon the very first page.
It reads, ......
Writer: Lunez
Date Thu Jun 10 05:27:14 2010
To All Nostra Conclave Immortal RP Kantilles Necrucifer
Subject What Can Change The Nature Of Man - 2 -
IBIDOR THE HERETIC - 1 -
A crowd flooded into the courtyard like a mob of savage ants swarming the
carcass of a bound dog.
"Where's the heretic? Where is he? " yelled one of the frenzied villagers.
In the middle of the courtyard stood a large pole with a man bound to it by
his throat, legs and arms. Gathered below the man's feet were bundles of
thickets and logs
The mob soon closed in around the bound man on display, welcoming him with
fists full of rocks and rotten fruits, which they continued to volley at him
ruthlessly. A lavishly robed man hammered his small wooden mallet against
the podium beside the bound man.
"Silence! There shall be order in my Court! "
The crowd soon calmed to a low whisper as the village Council leader began
to announce the proceedings.
With his fat finger, he pointed towards the bound accused. "Bastard son
Ibidor, you have been found guilty of the crimes against you by your peers,
the good citizens of Krudelay. "
Ibidor spat at the ground in response to the speaker.
The Council leader gritted his teeth slightly with an obvious look of
disgust on his face as he continued.
"Among these crimes are:"
"High treason, murder, arson, acts of heresy, plotting against human-kind
with the likes of the elves, demi-humans, and other such foul creatures, and
finally, a willful practicioner of black forbidden magic. "
"How do you plead to these charges? "
Ibidor swallowed half hazardly, forcing his jugular around the rough rope
bound tightly about his neck, followed by a scratchy, restrained, chuckle.
"Maynard... " the name spat from his mouth.
"May you be eaten alive by ants and your living entrails picked at by rabid
buzzards. "
Maynard just stared over at Ibidor from atop his podium silently for a
moment as the image settled into his brain before turning back to the
quietly awaiting mob around him.
"You see, good citizens? He doesn't even attempt to deny his crimes and
even threatens your brave leader with such a murderous rage only fit for the
likes of animals and beasts. He must be punished! "
The crowd went wild with excitement, yelling and shouting cries for blood
and justice.
"Burn the heretic!! Burn him till he's dead, " yelled one of the more
ignorant of citizens.
The speaker gave a long nod before responding in a stoic voice of cold
resolve and utter lack of remorse.
"And so the people wish it, so shall it be done! "
Maynard gestured towards the guard to light the thickets at the bound man's
feet. Beads of sweat ran down Ibidor's bald head, face and bare chest as
the flames fed on the dry debris surrounding him.
The crowd grew into a roar as they danced in unison with the flames as it
grew larger and larger like a burning demonic beast, devouring Ibidor with
it's fiery jaws from below. Soon Ibidor's flesh began to boil slowly as the
water and oils poured from his skin with the tormenting scent of his own
roasting flesh.
The burning man cried out in pain violently as the torching continued,
unable to force his hands and legs free from the iron chains binding him to
the heavy wooden pole propped up in the middle of the fire pit.
Unworldly screams breached forth from the flames like fiery hounds leaping
forth from the pits of Hell itself. Finally there was silence from within
the flames, and hushed expressions fell upon the onlookers faces as they
watched like children mesmerized by the juggling of a town fool.
Writer: Lunez
Date Thu Jun 10 05:32:22 2010
To All Nostra Conclave Immortal RP Kantilles Necrucifer
Subject What Can Change The Nature Of Man - 2 -
IBIDOR THE HERETIC - 2 -
Within the peak of the thickets, a face could still be seen through the
flickering flames, it's sunken bloodshot eyes fixed steadily onto Maynard
like Death gazing down at its list of new arrivals over the river styx.
With the very last bit of energy somehow locked within the very heart of the
burning man, he began to speak his final words to his people:
"You'll All pay for your sins of ignorance. With the burning of my flesh, I
curse you All with the burdens of my demise. When I return to these dark
and shattered lands, through my rebirth, a thousand fold, I shall rain down
upon you All with a wrath unlike this world has ever known!! "
The flames soon became a great inferno, swallowing Ibidor whole with it's
mouth of ember and smoke. Ibidor gave out one last cry of pain as he
lowered his gaze down towards Maynard's stare. Ibidor's head was soon lost
within the flames as the last remains of water soon boiled from his body and
melded with the flaming pole that he was bound to.
Maynard slowly turned away from the burning mass and towards his people with
a look of content in his eyes.
"Justice is served, " he uttered under his breath.
Almost instantly as the last word breached from his lips, an explosion
erupted from the belly of the flames like dragonfire, sending volcanic
embers across the courtyard, burning those lucky enough to have been the
furthest from the hearth while ignighting those unfortunate enough to have
been the closest to the burning thicket.
The courtyard was now in flames as burning people ran and crawled screaming
from the unexpected inferno. Maynard was sent flying a few yards away from
the blast, crashing against the far wall and was sent tumbling out the
southern gate before they collapsed, closing the exit back into the town
behind him.
Fear and shock raced through his mind and frightened eyes as he scrambled to
his feet and ran a distance from the burning town. Screams resounded over
and over again from within the confines of the great walls surrounding his
home.
Walls whom were raised in hopes of protecting the town and it's people from
harm however only proved to be their demise as they became trapped within it
like an oven of wood, stone, and fiery human forms falling to the ground in
charred heaps as the flames spread from structure to structure and barring
the gates.
His people cried out to him for protection vainly from within their own
private, burning, hell.
"Help us Maynard! Please help us! "
He fell to the ground on his knees, watching his home burn to the ground
while his people screamed with agony from within. The fire continued for
almost an hour as he watched to see if any survivors would emerge from the
flames... But none had. When the cries of the burning soon fell silent
within the crackling of wood and mortar, he knew they were All dead.
Maynard fell to All fours and sunk his face into the dirt as he cried to
himself:
"What have I done, what have I done.. "
A voice soon answered him-
Writer: Lunez
Date Thu Jun 10 05:39:08 2010
To All Nostra Conclave Immortal RP Kantilles Necrucifer
Subject What Can Change The Nature Of Man - 2 -
IBIDOR THE HERETIC - 3 -
A voice soon answered him-
"You have set into motion a most extrordinary series of events that will
change this world forever. "
Maynard looked up to see the form of an old humble looking man standing over
him.
"Wh-who are you?? " Asked Maynard with a frightened quiver in his voice.
"I am the whispering winds, I am the angelous errare, I am both the light
and the shadow, I am anything and everything, but today, I am the one who
saved your life. "
Maynard remained fixed within a shocked, confused expression, unable to
speak as he lay frozen in the presence of what may have been the demise of
his people.
"I am Azekiel, and you have two choices, die now by my hands or build a
gateway to another world. A great temple, a Ziggurat. Choose quickly
because I am angry and have very little patience for the likes of you right
now. "
"Wh-what? A Ziggurat? " Asked Maynard shakily.
"Quickly now, foolish man, you have two second to reply before I feed your
flesh to the ants where you will die a most gruesome death. "
"Fine! I'll do it! Just please spare me," cried Maynard selfishly. "I'll
do anything you tell me to do! "
The old man grinned feverishly.
"Wise choice. "
The old man pulled a large tightly bound scroll out from his robe and tossed
it to the ground before Maynard.
"These are the plans that I desire. See that they are followed perfectly or
else you'll suffer far worse a death than what you forced upon Ibidor. "
The mysterious old man turned without another word and dissapeared from
sight with the passing of a single blink. Maynard took the thick scroll in
his hands and unraveled it a couple feet. There must have been at least a
hundred feet of paper rolled up within the scroll as he thought to himself
outloud:
"These plans are insane..... "
Writer: Jadess
Date Thu Jun 10 12:55:29 2010
To Ardeshir New_Thalos All ( Daygan Imm RP )
Subject Like Mentor, Like Pupil (Part One)
"Again. "
"What do you mean 'again'?! It was perfect! "
"Again, or we end this now. " Arrogance was not getting him anywhere. This
was Jadess's arena, and Ardeshir would play by her rules or leave. It was
as simple as that, just as it had been with her training. Questioning the
lessons meant questioning her, and that she would not put up with, prince or
no. Honestly, Jadess could take or leave the lessons; she'd let the
Thalosian prince decide if they continued or quit. If he truly wanted to
understand her strength, he would have to do as she said. Gods, I sound
like Daygan...
Ardeshir looked on the verge of saying something, but one cold glance from
the red-head seemed to have made him change his mind. "Fine." He stretched
his arms over his head before darting between the trees of the Holy Grove.
She didn't know what other styles he was currently being taught, and she
really didn't care. All she knew was that it made her job as mentor All the
more difficult. Gods, I really -do- sound like Daygan! Hadn't he
mentioned the same thing about her during her own training? Karma was
definitely biting her in the ass now as she watched the Prince do has she
had done what felt like years ago. Jadess saw a lot of herself in him,
especially when it came to learning. She had to unlearn everything she was
taught as a swashbuckler to make room for what Daygan had to offer. The
only difference was that Ardeshir wasn't unlearning a style of fighting,
simply adding to his already extensive courseload. And it showed.
"Dammit, Ardeshir! Up on your toes! "
"I -am- on my toes! "
"Don't you -dare- lie to me! Up! Aren't you suppose to be an elf? Move
like one! " Oh, he did not like that one bit, not that he approved much of
what she said or did during their sessions. The Thalosian Prince came at
her with that wicked blade he always carried with him. Bad move. Before
the khopesh could be brought down on her, Jadess had grabbed Ardeshir by the
arm and, using his own momentum against him, flipped the Prince over her
shoulder and onto his back--HARD! The force was enough to send the wind
from his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath, defenseless. Unsheathing
the dagger strapped to her right calf, Jadess sat on his chest, her knees
pinning his knees to the ground. Midnight pools met a watery gaze as the
dagger moved to the flesh of the Prince's neck. There were no emotions in
the stare, save for Ardeshir's own look of surprise. Jadess spoke, her tone
calm and flat, making her appear even more threatening as the Elvish words
flowed from her lips...
Writer: Jadess
Date Thu Jun 10 13:01:19 2010
To Ardeshir New_Thalos All ( Daygan Imm RP )
Subject Like Mentor, Like Pupil (Part Two)
"If you let your anger get the better of you, your enemies will as well.
You want to strike fear into the hearts of those who threaten the Jewel--"
She waiting for him to nod before continuing "--Then show your calm, not
your rage. A calm in battle will unnerve anyone who wishes to cross your
path. Understood? "
"Yes. " It was a growl of an answer, but she knew he got the message. She
could read it in his eyes. Suppose they really are the window to the soul.
"Yes, what? "
"Yes... Ma'am. "
"Good. " Jadess removed the dagger from the Prince's throat, quickly
returning it to its sheath as she hopped off of her pupil. He slowly rose
to his feet, a hand rubbing his neck where the steel had previously been.
"Now, again, " she barked in Elvish. "And this time, up on your toes. " A
quiet grumble later and he was back to walking around the clearing. A faint
smirk tugged on the assassin's lips as she watched Ardeshir bounce with
every step he took. At least it was entertaining. Her thoughts drifted
back to her own lessons. I wonder if Daygan was just as amused with me as I
am with the--Dammit, he's flat-footed again. A couple of tossed caltraps
under Ardeshir's feet caught his attention.
"Boy, I said on your toes! " By the Gods, this was going to take a while.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Thu Jun 10 19:55:46 2010
Writer: Draelghor
Date Fri Jun 11 17:48:16 2010
To All Leb'kamai Mencius IMM (RP)
Subject The Icy Trek
Grunting against the cold, a dimunitive figure leans against the furious
winds of Icewall. A black speck against the white wasteland of the north.
Jagged mountain ranges cut the landscape like frosted teeth of some open
mouthed carnivore. A blizzard batters at the small boulder making its trek
across the besieged plain. Howling winds drive the snow like so many small
daggers into whatever soft targets that might be exposed. Buffeted, the
dwarf marches on.
Swathed in the shaggy coat of a black grizzly, this Draelghor squints
through the small cracks of the cloth wrapped around his head nearly blind
with the reflected sunlight always focused on the same peak. Snarling and
uttering a curse against the elements he moves steadily through the heavy
snow banks. Leaned low he makes good use of the terrain, a sturdy walking
stick and an ice pick to keep moving. Pots, camping equipment and gear
clank dully beneath their wrappings with every movement, this one dwarf
expedition has prepared well.
'By Lord of Rage, they said it be here' Draelghor growled to himself while
shrugging his burden about.
'ah'll likely die out here, just like they did. ' He though sullenly, and
then bellowed shaking a fist at the unforgiving mountainside 'LIKE BLOODAE
HELL AH WILL!! '
The wind howled an angry response as if challenging the rage and will of its
stalwart invader.
Writer: Draelghor
Date Fri Jun 11 17:52:44 2010
To All Leb'kamai Mencius IMM (RP)
Subject The Prelude
'Wait a few months, ah'll go with ye lads' Draelghor said shrugging a
small pack onto his shoulder.
Baldaan shook his head, 'We 'ave to go now while th' seas are good. Dunnae
worry 'bout us cousin' Soon we'll All bae rich on ferrite crystals en
asterite ore, en besides ye just started yer apprentice to learn th' Rage.
Kinnae bae leavin tha' behind to go on some crazy minin' expedition leave
tha' to me en the ole codger yer father. '
'Ye think ah dunnae know yer stoppin in Nordmaar t' visit th' Black Rose?!?
' Draelghor replied angrily. 'You en th' old bat are gonna get rip roarin
drunk on scotch wit'out me en ahm bloodae pissed' Shrugging, Baldaan
retorted 'thats it, give in t' the rage young grasshopper'
'Ah'll bloodae headbutt you so hard ye'll have to breath out of yer ears,
c'mere you GIT!!!! ' roared Draelghor, grabbing Baldaan by the straps of
his platemail.
'Let me go ye sheep lovin tree hugger! ' Balaan chuckled out. 'Besides
ye've got yer bonnie lass Dorondi to be lookin after. En ah'll be askin ye
to watch mae lil' one Brumhilda, and ye know how cousin Druffel bae wantin
to learn the rage just loike you. We need ye here'
'Foine, ye'll get t' keep yer pretty nose, but ye call me a tree hugger
again en ahm splittin yer brain piece. '
Writer: Draelghor
Date Fri Jun 11 18:24:33 2010
To All Leb'kamai Mencius IMM (RP)
Subject The Base Camp
As if worn out from a days frustration the elements gave way to a dead
calm, and a silence crept over the icy terrain like a fog. The dark sky was
pinpricked by a myriad of stars unobscured by a single cloud nor diminshed;
by the light of they white moon. The red hung low in the heavens, only a
red fingernail of a sliver casting a red hue on the white canvas of snow.
The very negative space of the black moon notable only by the absence of
light around around it, hovered like a gestating threat in the barren sky.
The form of the small shack was muted by a thick layer of snow and ice, but
was unmistakable in this wasteland as something made by the hand of a living
creature. Several of the planks jutted through the pile of snow as if
bearing witness to the construct beneath.
Draelghor unshouldered his burden allowing it to collapse in a unceremonious
heap on the frozen ground. He stood glaring about the small clearing as if
daring it to tell its tale. Trudging over to the side of the shack, he
landed a heavy kick against one of the walls dislodging a mountain of snow
and several icicles.
Inside the shack were meager accommodations for two. A small iron stove, a
pair of cots, and some hastily assembled shelves littered with mining
supplies. At the back of the shack a pair of slanted doors led down into
the mountainside at a good angle. A dwarven mine, is a good mine and this
was no exception. The entrance was well supported and sconces were
installed every 10 feet like clock work leading down into the bitter
darkness.
Draelghor nodded as if satisfied with the work, but his questions remained
unanswered.
Writer: Draelghor
Date Fri Jun 11 18:35:18 2010
To All Leb'kamai Mencius IMM (RP)
Subject The Barrow Mound
/************************************\
< |
< I still don't know what beast twas|
< got ahold of the codger. But |
< today I finished the barrow mound, |
\ wanted more than anything to brin__|
\home for a proper burial but I w/
<make it tryin to carry him alon/
/ I'll bury him tonight and brin/
\ the horn back with me. Me an/
/ Draelghor ca/\_come back _d /
\_that demon./ \ think i/g\/
\od feelin/ \methin/
\-ange h/ |t /\/
\ghts/ \/
Draelghor stared at the ripped page from the journal in disbelief. Confusion and anger furrowed
his thick brow. The offending paper was crumbled and summarily thrown into the burning coals of
the iron stove. He slid from the stool and grabbed his axe in one smooth motion, the mound had
to be nearby.
Light spilled into the inky darkness of the night air as the door to the shack burst open.
Draelghor's wide form temporarily blotted out that strange intrusion as he bolted forth into the
deathly still scene. His eyes squinted in adjustment trying to make out forms in the white
terrain. Absently he kicked the door shut behind him and his eyesight began to improve. A soft
gnoll crested just yards from the shack, not something he would've seen in the glaring brightness
of day.
In a rush, the dwarf hustled over to the gnoll looking for the telltale flatness that would be
entrance to the mound. There along the southern side a yawning blackness awaited to consume him.
Setting the lit torch into the sconce, Draelghor beheld the lone occupant of this mound, his
father. A strange feeling gripped his heart as his eyes set upon the black horn ominously
perched on his patriarch's barrel chest. Reverently taking the horn with two hands, Draelghor
assumed head of the family. The Horn of Gleimdigg had been his family for a milennia.
Supposedly wrest from the head of a Baalrog and hollowed, this horn had struck icy fear into
the enemy with its mournful howl on countless battlefields. He turned it about in his hands
mesmerized by its lore and daunted by the responsibility.
I knew you would come....they spoke highly of you, you will serve nicely
And Draelghor knew only darkness.
Writer: Kinear
Date Sat Jun 12 13:41:08 2010
Writer: Jadess
Date Sun Jun 13 07:22:54 2010
To Raije Gunnarr Religion All ( Imm RP )
Subject You have been weighed. (Part I)
It was strange. The Deacon of Raije had left only a few minutes after
their little "introductory meeting", but Jadess still felt as though she
couldn't move. Her heart pounded against her chest, threatening to burst
from her chest. She finally got the attention of a priest of Lord Raije,
and now, after he was gone, she couldn't help but feel elated, relieved...
And terrified.
The assasssin never realized how intense it was, the study of faith. Even
when she was trying to learn of Austinian All those years ago, she never
once felt as connected to her deity as she did now. She had explained
everything, from her childhood to her present predicament of seeking to join
the military (Mujahid, she corrected herself) of New Thalos. Frustration
filled her as she began pacing the lounge, her ability to walk finally
returning to her. Why did it have to take this long to realize what
fighting and battle really menat to her? It could have saved her a lot of
trouble...
Maybe this is how it was meant to be? If so, Fate was a wench for making
her struggle this long with her faith. She stopped pacing and looked at the
leather bound book Deacon Gunnarr had given her to look over. It was His
word. His book of study for His Army. A smile crept to her lips as she
moved closer to the book, her fingers faintly brushing over the cover. She
could tell, even with such gentle strokes, that she was suppose to be here,
in this moment. She was being weighed, measured. I will not be found
wanting. She quickly unsheathed her sabres and laid them across the top of
the book, making an X with the blades. Her daggers were soon to follow, a
cross this time, resting on top of their longer cousins. Placing her hands
on the table, one on either side of the book, she whispered...
"Lord Raije, I come before you now in hopes of joining Your Army. It has
taken many years, but I have finally found where I belong. The battlefield
calls to me more than I ever realized before. Even after retiring from
Althainia's military, I longed for a good fight. I yearn for it with each
passing day and I am afraid I can fight these desires no longer.
From this day forth, I dedicate my life to battle and to Your ways, Lord.
My weapons, my hands as well as my blades, are Yours. This I swear on my
life. "
Midnight pools opened slowly (When did I close them? ), Jadess's attention
turning to her hands placed on the table. She was gripping the edge with
enough force that her knuckles had begun to turn white. She released the
table as a faint, knowing smile graced her lips.
I will -not- be found wanting.
Writer: Kinear
Date Sun Jun 13 08:52:50 2010
Writer: Arreana
Date Sun Jun 13 20:03:34 2010
Writer: Arreana
Date Sun Jun 13 20:04:38 2010
Writer: Arreana
Date Sun Jun 13 20:05:27 2010
Writer: Valefar
Date Mon Jun 14 04:52:30 2010
To All Taliena Imm Religion Arreana
Subject Misplaced Faith
This is my favorite tenet. It speaks of peace through love above all
meterial goals. I don't know if it means peace within an individual or
globaly. I would like to think of it as a global peace. But. Global peace
can never be achieved. Although it can never be achieved, it is still
something well worth fighting for. I was a follower of Devion, though
loosely. I liked the trickery and misdirection more than anything. I liked
the feeling I got when I lied to someone. It brought me joy. Made me
laugh. In then end, however, I realized these were hollow pleasures. My
enjoyment wasn't real. People may say, "well if you were enjoying yourself
then it had to be real". No. And this is why. Something within me slowly
began to die with each new deception. I became a shell of hatred and
developed a malice toward everyone. Even friends. People began to realize
that I could not be trusted. I felt empty. Abandoned. I lost All faith in
anybody or anything. Eventually I found myself tricking people out of eggs
and other items. Not for joy this time, but out of anger and spite. The
pleasure was dead and I was left alone and without friends. The treasures I
had accumulated became worthless to me. Then one day an opportunity arose.
I won't need to mention his name, but there was someone who was struggling
to survive. They were fairly new to the world and had limited knowledge of
how to stay alive. They didn't know how to obtain the necessities for
survival. He was frustrated because no one was offering him a hand. In
fact, there were some who were laughing at him. Even gossiping. I still
don't know why I felt bad for this person. Maybe it was momentary clarity
granted by Taliena herself or maybe it's because I went through a similar
trial. So I decided I would be the one to offer him a hand. I gave him
advice. Offered training. I even relinquished some of my treasure to help
aid in his survival. It goes without sayin, he was grateful. This act of
charity woke something in me up. Rather, brought something back to life. I
felt it not only emotionally but physically as well. The moment I realized
that this made me happy, my body felt lighter. A tingling sensation ran up
my spine and I knew what true happiness was again. This event is what
prompted me to seek out the ariel, Arreana. I sought her for guidance and
understanding. Even with a red aura, she accepted me. She offered a
blessing and prayed for me. It was a brand new experience and was something
I -truly- enjoyed. And for this I am thankful. I vow now to continue to
strive for a more peaceful, loving Algoron as my knowledge of the gifts of
Taliena expands.
Writer: Daygan
Date Mon Jun 14 09:18:28 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Mon Jun 14 15:46:42 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Mon Jun 14 19:27:08 2010
Writer: Jadess
Date Mon Jun 14 21:14:25 2010
To Raije Gunnarr Daygan Ardeshir All ( Imm RP Religion )
Subject You have been weighed (Part Two)
I never claimed to do what was good. I claimed to do what was right.
Growing up doesnt mean growing evil!
All followers of Raije do what is right.
You are training a dark prince to kill!!! You sure as hell arent good
anymore if you think thats alright!
The question is, what form of "right" will you do?
Jadess awoke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat on the floor of Raije's
temple. Gods, it was only a dream... The assassin pushed herself to sit
up before digging through her pack to pull out a towel and using it to dry
off her face. The voices of the Deacon and her former mentor still echoed
in her mind. Just because I'm training the Prince to fight as I do does not
make me evil, she tried to reason with herself. I'm doing what is right
for my kingdom.
She stopped. Since when did she start calling New Thalos -her- kingdom?
Probably about the same time she began calling Ardeshir "my Prince". Jadess
held the towel over her mouth, midnight eyes glazing over in thought. She
had sworn fealty to the kingdom and the Sultanate when she moved, but she
had not sworn to assimilate. The Prince, however, had managed to earn her
utmost respect and -that- earned him her loyalty.
New Thalos is my home now, she finally gave in. I have to do what is right
by my Prince and my kingdom. Her eyes turned towards the statue of Raije,
lowering the towel away from her face. "Lord Raije, I will not ask you to
guide me. I ask, though, that you grant me the courage to make the
decisions I need to make. To do what is right, I will have to turn from all
I knew, and All I was taught. " She rose to her feet, draping the towel
over her shoulder and walked up to the statue. "I am here to do what is
right... Not what is good... " Jadess knelt down before the statue of
Raije. "I can hope that they will understand in time, but I will not be
surprised if they All turned me away. I pray I have the strength and
resolve to do what is right. "
Writer: Jadess
Date Tue Jun 15 08:17:14 2010
To Raije Gunnarr All ( Imm RP Religion )
Subject You have been weighed (part three)
The bath in the Burning Sands had no cold water in it. It had been
filled with as much hot water as it could give, which would scald any one
else. Jadess, however, loved the heat. The sunburn she received after
first moving to the Jewel hadn't even hurt. The weather in the desert
didn't really phase her. Heat she could stand; the bitter cold of Icewall
she could not. And after spending the past several hours hunting the Yeti
Queen for the spear, the assassin felt she deserved a hot bath.
A slight smile tugged on the corners of her lips as the water lapped at her
skin. This is -so- much better, she thought before dunking her head under
the water, the heat burning her closed eyes. The Deacon had worked her hard
today, having her help him with the Yeti Queen. By help, she did mean he
told her when to go, and she went. Nothing had come from the hunt, though
the Deacon told her she had done well. Maybe it wasn't just the spear he
was after?
Jadess's lungs began to ache for much needed oxygen. She wasn't about to
drown in a tub (Of All places. ), So she acquiesced her lungs' desires and
popped her head up out of the water. Was he testing her? Seeing if she
would quit? If that was the case, she could take anything he threw at
her... I hope.
She brought a leg up out of the water and watched as the water turned to
steam on her skin, her lips going under the water. The red-head blew a few
bubbles in the water, bringing her leg back to the warmth of the bath. My
Lord, she prayed, I've learned so much of Your ways from the Deacon
Gunnarr. I never realized until recently how much I already lived by Your
ideals and structure. Perhaps I was always meant to be a soldier in Your
army. Jadess chuckled, more bubbles floating to the top of the water.
That is a selfish thought, but I am beginning to wonder if this is exactly
what I was meant to do. I was meant to lose my faith in Austinian. I was
meant to find Deacon Gunnarr. I was meant to wrack my brain on what I
should say to You.
The assassin ducked back under the water, leaving her eyes open so that she
could look up at the ceiling of her room from under the water. I meant
everything I said the first time I prayed to You, Lord Raije. My weapons
are Yours. I am Your soldier. I will go where You wish, do as You wish, no
matter the consquences. I have joined the military once more and plan to
teach All I know in Your name.
Her lungs were burning again. Perhaps it was time she crawled into a bed
and not drown in a tub. Jadess poked her head out of the water and stood,
using her toes to pull the plug and drain the water. She quickly toweled
off and clothed just as fast. After dragging a brush through her hair, and
tied the fire-red tresses back out of her face, Jadess collapsed on the bed
of her room. She didn't even bother hiding under the blankets. The moment
she had curled up on the bed, she was fast asleep, exhaustion taking its
hold on her.
Writer: Kinear
Date Tue Jun 15 09:31:36 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Tue Jun 15 11:04:54 2010
Writer: Iaymor
Date Tue Jun 15 20:02:05 2010
Writer: Cairhien
Date Tue Jun 15 22:22:01 2010
Writer: Draelghor
Date Wed Jun 16 10:50:43 2010
To All Leb'kamai Mencius IMM (RP) Kyri
Subject Predators Know Their Own
The vessel lurched and bobbed in the icy water, groaning its complaints
at every crest and fall. The white moon hangs low in the night sky like a
pallid sore, lighting the steady path of the Nomad. A loan figure swathed
in black, haunts the stern. Oblivious to the sometimes violent rocking of
the wooden ship.
Fins slice through the water like black razorblades churning the wake into a
red slush. He couldn't help but allow a smile to tug at the corners of his
mouth. Stroking the black mass of a beard, he passed his hands over the
beads threaded into the braids there which represented the Gleimdigg clan.
The predators were there after a meal, which they had received. Tiring of
his diversion, he passed his hand over the water barking a sound in an
archaic language. To a one the fins disappeared into the murky depths of
the Arsataw Yaw. Predators know their own, and more importantly, when a
bigger fish was about.
His eyes were drawn to the black line along the horizon, the vestiges of his
iceland exile of countless milennia. The Nomad was well on its way to the
shores of Althainia, and making good time having lost a passenger during the
night.
Writer: Draelghor
Date Wed Jun 16 11:08:18 2010
To All Leb'kamai Mencius IMM (RP) Kyri
Subject Gold Changing Hands
The heat opressed the city like a suffocating blanket of wool. The arid
sky was still hued scarlet by the rays of a dying sun. In the mysterious
twilight of sunset the city changed hands from the merchants and shopping
nobles to give way to the vagrants and darker elements. The guards march
by, stepping over beggard and half starving children, making their rounds
and keeping their heads. Contempt.
The monolithic gates opened before the fully cloaked short figure. The
darkness and quantity of clothing drew the curious glance of the gateguards,
but the notion to look away and wave him through was stronger than any the
desire for more information. And so death entered the desert jewel.
Making his way through the emptying streets, he found the unassuming door he
was seeking and entered smoothly. Inside was lit softly by lanterns along
the length of the long corridor. On the wall a small wooden sign:
All visitors and members welcome. Membership may be purchased from
Lady Tamahra of the White Sands. All visitors may pay the small entry
token to be allowed entrace, consiting of 10 gold.
No goblins are allowed within these premises.
Thank you,
The Management
There are worst things than goblins.
The corridor gives way to a foyer, spiral staircase, opulent chandelier and
a young attendant. All of which insignificant to this dark visitor.
'Good evening my lord' lilted the young man, 'Room for the night? ' he
asked while offering a bronze key.
'Aye'
'Will my lord be desiring a companion? ' he furthered nodding to the soft
music from the next room.
'Aye, send me somethin' to th' room. '
'My lord wishes to choose, or shall i take the liberty? ' the attendant
asked, smoothing his hands over his dark suit.
'Send me th' one ye like least. '
Tilting his head to the side as if to ask a question, the young man thought
better of it and nodded, "As you wish my lord."
And gold changed hands.
Writer: Draelghor
Date Wed Jun 16 11:17:13 2010
To All Leb'kamai Mencius IMM (RP) Kyri
Subject New Alliances
Draelghor stopped short on the great eastern road. An ominous sensation
followed by a rumbling in the ground. Something big was coming this way,
from below, crossing the road and stopping just north, but not quiet
begining the slow rise to Moria.
Morbidly curious, he risked a detour even with the impending dawn. The
earth trembled once more and she opened her gaping maw as if to swallow the
sky. From the darknes,
'We seek a those of the Flock of Rage, he will send us a priest'
'It will be done'
'They will also assemble...and fight in the sacred place, the winner shall be Ours'
'it will be so, How should I call m'lord?'
'We are Leb'Kamai, the Brown'
Writer: Jadess
Date Wed Jun 16 13:39:05 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jun 16 15:07:42 2010
Writer: Aidyn
Date Wed Jun 16 17:51:29 2010
Writer: Aidyn
Date Wed Jun 16 17:55:06 2010
Writer: Jadess
Date Thu Jun 17 04:38:24 2010
Writer: Lavinah
Date Fri Jun 18 02:24:59 2010
To All ( religion rp immortal dragoth )
Subject New Days I
She spent her time where she always did: between the city and temple, her
home and the garden, Lavinah found a pleasant balance between work and
study. Her time to re-acclimate had passed, and there was much to do.
First, the rose. She went to the gardens at dusk, for whatever reason it
just seemed proper. Carefully unwrapping the blood soaked cloth, she saw
what it held, as it always had been to her. She couldn't fathom how those
who had held it in her absence didn't see of feel what it was, but it was
once again hers. And after a few days of feeding, the rose seemed more
radiant than ever. Lavinah studied it for hours, gently grasping as the
thorns pricked her skin endlessly. After a short time, tiny bugs began to
gather on her hands. A soft grin crossed her face, her eyes transfixed.
It was mid-day when she returned to the kingdom, a day of speaking, of
aiding. When time came for her prayers, she retired to the temple. She
felt Him immediately, there with the Novitiate. Instinctively, she knelt.
Lavinah remembered nothing of her absence. But she missed. Oh, how she
missed His voice.
* * *
They sat in the temple for some time after He left, speaking of Him and the
Swarm. Lavinah spoke of bugs and spiders, of humans and elves and goblins -
their breath, their step. How His servants were too numerous to count. How
He was everywhere.
'Go, ssee the world with fresh eyess.' she said.
* * *
In her laboratory, Lavinah thought of spiders, and the poisons they
delivered.
She went to her library, and selected two specific books. Lavinah kept
arguably the world's worst library, with too many books and no order at all.
Still, it took her only a few moments to locate a dark elven farmer's diary,
and a work on animal mating.
Writer: Laithayn
Date Fri Jun 18 12:47:20 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Fri Jun 18 14:14:25 2010
Writer: Zayin
Date Fri Jun 18 14:26:57 2010
Writer: Ardeshir
Date Fri Jun 18 16:40:43 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Fri Jun 18 21:15:03 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Sat Jun 19 01:48:37 2010
Writer: Jadess
Date Sat Jun 19 10:04:13 2010
Writer: Jadess
Date Sat Jun 19 10:08:41 2010
Writer: Zayin
Date Sat Jun 19 11:13:03 2010
Writer: Zikariza
Date Sat Jun 19 16:41:44 2010
To All ( Imms Dragoth Relgion RP )
Subject An Opening of Eyes and Mind
'Go, ssee the world with fresh eyess. ' the priestess had said.
Zikariza left the temple after a brief prayer of guidance. She pondered the
words they had spoken. She had been looking perhaps too deep, expecting
more than the pure simplicity of the words.
Where could one explore the world yet see oneself in new eyes? A tale came
to mind, rumours of a body so large one could enter inside of it.
Upon reaching the location mentioned she discovered the mentioned body, the
scent of the onset of decay reached her nose. The first signs of life giant
sized maggots; minions of her lord. She watched as they went about ignoring
all but their duty. Exploring further she discovered signs of battle, deep
fatal wounds. No matter who he served he was her Lords now.
Entering into the body itself she observed signs of disease, some due to the
state of the body, others the results of habits; habits seeming so benign
and innocent, leading to death and decay.
Then on into the mind, hopes and dreams. Nightmares bringing fear, dread
and doubt, eroding away at the aspirations and goals.
Everywhere she looked signs of her Lords presence. He was everywhere, and
all served him eventually.
She returned to the Temple to meet the priestess. There Zikariza spoke of
her travels and exploration, discussed her thoughts and feelings.
The discussion over, the lesson began, 'His Cycle'
Writer: Enduriel
Date Sat Jun 19 17:48:03 2010
Writer: Zayin
Date Sun Jun 20 12:46:31 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Sun Jun 20 22:59:07 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Sun Jun 20 23:44:52 2010
Writer: Lavinah
Date Mon Jun 21 02:02:54 2010
To All ( religion rp immortal dragoth )
Subject New Days II
The books were an utter waste of time.
Besides being poorly written, they offered nothing of what she sought.
After ten pages on reading how to properly mate various farm animals in
heat, she gave up and decided that nothing worth nothing would be lost if
the book were burnt.
She sat in her laboratory, a few of her specimen jars open, the spiders from
them crawling on her hands. These weren't poisonous, so she just watched as
they roamed about - their touch amazingly light, barely a breath.
Goosebumps ran up her arm at the thought, her mind wandering to her lover's
breath down her back as they slept. The feelings were eerily similar.
Her initial attempts at crossbreeding had resulted in wildly inconsistent
findings. Most ignored each other completely. Some lunged at each other in
vicious attacks that leaves one or both dead in moments. What more, spiders
didn't seem to behave the same within each species. They were maddeningly
individualistic. She had run out of spiders and did not have a single
mating.
The more Lavinah thought about it, the more she believed she was going about
this entirely the wrong way.
She collected another host of spiders in tidy glass tubes and boxes, then
spent a few days drawing poison from some of the deadlier varieties,
testing potencies. It was time consuming work, as each carried precious
little venom - and Lavinah quickly learned that in many cases, the poison
ceased to be dangerous shortly after the poison was drawn.
Research never frustrated her. This was perilously close to exactly that.
Lavinah arranged her workshop and headed towards the gardens. She had
decided to simply watch His servants at work.
Writer: Zayin
Date Mon Jun 21 10:36:46 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Mon Jun 21 12:28:33 2010
Writer: Gwaine
Date Mon Jun 21 15:01:20 2010
Writer: Pae'lan
Date Mon Jun 21 18:54:43 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Mon Jun 21 20:29:57 2010
Writer: Pae'lan
Date Mon Jun 21 20:30:44 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Mon Jun 21 22:00:00 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Mon Jun 21 23:59:19 2010
Writer: Kelthas
Date Tue Jun 22 04:43:44 2010
To All Immortal RP
Subject What Once was Lost
Kelthas stretched out on the bed within his chambers in the Halls of New
Thalos with a groan.
"I'm getting way too old for this," he whispered to himself.
He had just gotten back from another woodcutting trip. Although the
centuries had treated him well, how many had passed now? There were
definite times that reminded him that this body would not last him forever.
He had not know how long a body would last actually. He knew from the
ancient texts that he had uncovered All those years ago had stated that the
magic involved in the ceremony would add longevity to the body his spirit
would inhabit but it failed to mention how long. Certainly this body did
not hold it's own in battle any longer as he had so discovered during his
short stay within the clan of Bloodlust. Kelthas snorted. Bloodlust.
Rightfully named. He couldn't believe he had actually believed there was a
truly honorable faction within that clan of killers. Oh, certainly there
were those who truly believed in honor, roses among countless thorns, but
most were a truly ruthless breed. Caring only for the love of the kill.
Murderers and assassins of the worst sort. No better than Malice. Kelthas
couldn't understand why they just didn't keep the name.
He hadn't been back to Verminasia in years. It was time to return for a
visit..... In the morning at least. Soon his snores were reverberating off
the halls.
The next morning, Kelthas climbed out of bed, strapped on his armor, and
headed to the portal room. Within moments, he was standing on the Arkanian
docks. Kneeling down, he prayed to Necrucifer and a black charger appeared
before him. Mounting up, he rode down the road to Arkane. After many long
hours, the Dark City stood before him. He rode through the city and out the
east gate, stopping by the temble along the way. Finally, he had come to
his destination. Tying his horse to the deteriorating gates, Kelthas
entered his home. The Keep had been completely detroyed, between the Yaenni
and time itself, only crumbling stone walls remained.
Kelthas made his way through the rubble to a set of blackened steel doors.
Pulling a silver key from around his neck, he unlocked them and, with some
effort, pushed them open. This had been the first time in centuries that
the doors had been opened. Try as they might, no others could break the
enchantment upon them. Kelthas walked down the stairs, into the Crypts.
Without even a glance around, he found himself standing before a crypt, the
name almost obliterated by time.
K.... H.... S G.... I.... LF GEN.. R.. L O.... H.. S.. ULL
Kneeling down before the tomb, he whispered a prayer.
Kelthas awoke with a start in his chambers. There was a great battle being
waged within the Keep. Quickly he strapped on his armor and grabbed a huge
morning star. Racing from his chambers, into the main hall, Yinn were
everywhere. With deadly precision, his blows told again and again until,
finally, sheer numbers alone made the mighty minotaur fall.
Writer: Kelthas
Date Tue Jun 22 04:48:05 2010
To All Immortal RP
Subject What Once was Lost (Part 2)
Kelthas shook his head. That had been many many years ago. He stood and
climbed up the stairs once more. He entered what was once the main hall. A
stone throne, once grand, stood in this hall. A stone throne, once grand,
stood in this hall. To smaller thrones sat slightly behind the largest.
Walking up, Kelthas took a seat in the front throne.
"This should have been mine. Perhaps, my brethren, if it was, we would
never have fallen."
Kelthas looked to the sky.
"Here me, oh Great Lord Necrucifer. Those of the Purists have failed you.
Allow me to show your might upon this land. I hereby claim the throne of
the Highlord of the Eclipse so that we may be able to serve you once more.
I beg you, guide others to me so that we may raise your banner high and sing
your praises unto the realm."
Stripping off his armor, Kelthas walked over to a large stone block that had
collapsed. Grunting under it's weight, he sat it upon the stone wall.
Slowly, one block at a time, the Keep of the Eclipse began to return.
Writer: Leslille
Date Tue Jun 22 06:13:41 2010
Writer: Danadoir
Date Tue Jun 22 12:08:48 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Wed Jun 23 01:03:40 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Wed Jun 23 08:28:56 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jun 23 18:01:54 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Wed Jun 23 19:28:01 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Wed Jun 23 20:30:38 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Wed Jun 23 21:18:27 2010
Writer: Cherrae
Date Wed Jun 23 21:44:35 2010
Writer: Kyrlynn
Date Wed Jun 23 22:41:15 2010
Writer: Mercerion
Date Wed Jun 23 22:42:07 2010
Writer: Ianto
Date Thu Jun 24 15:51:04 2010
To All Taiyoukai
Subject Restless Spirit
Ianto sat on the bench in Althainia's garden swinging his legs. He had
been here many times before. Back when life was easier, when things were
happier. He remembered running around with his two sisers, wrestling with
Jyuuken despite his mother's frantic yelling. He remembered his grandmother
Lae'nyr giving him everything he ever asked her for. He would sit and watch
her for hours until Inutaisho returned home. Ianto wanted more than
anything to grow up and be everything like his grandfather. Strong,
reliable, wise.
Ianto sighed as the tears welled up in his eyes. He had stopped crying a
long time ago when he finally gave up searching. He was alone. He had
accepted this fact. He even began to grow accustomed to his solitude. It
must have been fate that day when he walked into the city and stumbled into
his uncle. Where had he been? Years without any word and suddenly his
uncle was here. The old pain had resurfaced. He began thinking about his
family again. Many people sought him out asking about his parents and his
grandfather, wanting to know if either were alive. He wished he knew.
Ianto wandered in the forests for a week, not eating or drinking until he
became delusional. He fell asleep under a tall oak tree, waking up to the
sound of voices. He got up slowly, looking around searching for the source
of the voices that sounded like his grandparents. He rose shakily and
wandered further into the forests until he came upon a cloaked figure.
Something seemed strange about the person whose gender he couldnt determine
due to the layers of clothing covering it. The air seemed to shimmer around
the figure and as he looked around the small clearing he was standing in the
trees seemed to sway in a rhythmic pattern, a song emanating from their
branches.
The figure turned to him, and a voice flooded his mind.
Your spirit is strong young Taiyoukai. Train hard, and you will find that
which you seek.
Ianto stumbled backwards from the clearing as the figure's clothing slipped
away and All that remained was a shimmering apparition of a woman. The
figure floated quickly up to Ianto and reached out touching him in the
center of his forehead. There was a bright flash and suddenly...
Ianto opened his eyes and jumped up, looking around frantically for the
spirit before realizing he was still in the garden in Althainia and not much
time had passed.
Writer: Pae'lan
Date Thu Jun 24 18:32:35 2010
To New_Thalos ( All imm rp religion Austinian )
Subject A time of fasting - part 3
Spending the last week or so of his fast studying the sacrements Pae'lan
had almost forgotten his hunger. He slept when he was tired, drink when he
was thirsty. He had even had a morning ritual in which he bathed in the
cool spring. Resisting the urge to call on the Father's nurishment he picks
up his tome and again begins to read only to put it down again. He will
need to do something else for the time being, he is too excited. He will
begin his journey back home today. Home? Is that what New Thalos had
become to him? Making his way through his meager camp he thinks about this
for a while. New Thalos was ruled by followers of Darkness, devout of
Drakkara, and yet, he found himself having a great respect for the ruling
family. They've welcomed him and his faith in Austinian not only into the
city, but into the church as well. He has made it to Imam, though the word
is unfamiliar, the idea is the same as anywhere. He is ranked within a
guild. Though that in itself grates on his nerves, he is not saddened by
that prospect, actually it encourages him. Yes, he admits to himself, New
Thalos is my home. Turning his face to the heavens he stretches his arms
wide in worship and prays 'Father, I am saddened by my leaving the gray, but
my faith in You is unwaivering. I thank you for openening the doors to
Thalos, and I pray you speak through me to those that would listen, help me
to speak to their hearts, and their souls. In All things Father I give you
praise and addoration. Amen' Picking up what little he has in the forest he
starts his walk home. His home, the jewel of the desert, New Thalos.
Writer: Datai
Date Thu Jun 24 22:42:01 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Sun Jun 27 14:31:14 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Mon Jun 28 11:23:12 2010
Writer: Josiuh
Date Tue Jun 29 13:03:45 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Wed Jun 30 02:31:08 2010
Writer: Datai
Date Wed Jun 30 02:44:15 2010
Writer: Datai
Date Wed Jun 30 02:47:54 2010
To All Knighthood
Subject Gambling for Keeps (2)
Now, Kadiya must be rolling in Her grave to hear how this lovely and
gentle psalm is being abused. Guards and the Lord are momentarily placated
so that everyone can instead of being peaceful and have a picnic, choose a
new, higher priority to kill target, and commence killing them. Thus my
comrades now take me along on nearly every dangerous keep assault they can.
After all, it is perfectly safe with me along to sing song of peace.
Providing I can reach the enemy in one piece to sing it. All of the sudden,
living until the next monster slaying session for my bet got a whole lot
harder. This is coupled with the fact that my comrades are always more
eager to capture dangerously guarded keeps with me around. They seem to
feel safer, and that the risk reward calculations are All in line. My
record with the High Priest suggests otherwise for me.
Now, with enough knights and allies along, at least things can go quickly
and painfully. They seem pretty shy about going into these horrible
situations with less than five or six knights, so I was feeling pretty safe
the other evening sitting around with Lord Gwaine, Sir Akasi, Sir Acre and
Lady Anysse. The only Keep in the hands of the enemy was the mighty Citadel
which is such a bother to take that usually we turn a blind eye to it and
pretend it isn't there.
Unfortunately Paladins tend to be really bad at that kind of thing. They
are also pretty bad with white lies too. You should never ask them what
they think of the latest fashion you brought home from Shalonesti. No
sooner had I started to relax with my holy beer did Sir Acre mention the
word, "keep."
Keep apparently is a magical word, as it made the General of the Shield
vanish. Lady Anysse is nobody's fool, and being a highly educated
enchantress is very good at calculating odds and risk reward. Unfortunately
that left me behind with three paladins. Three paladins and a bard are very
bad at calculating these sorts of things. Though I did have a nagging
feeling it was a bad idea, and voiced it, constantly, unendingly, through
out the entire adventure; I was soundly outvoted by the paladin majority.
I thought I was off the hook as the Citadel is so hated a Keep that no one
among the three Knights really knew exactly where it was. However those
sorts of details are not the sort of thing that ever deters a paladin on a
quest. Certainly not three paladins. Though not the sort of lance leaders
who know where a keep is, and how to assault it, Sir Acre is the bookish
sort of paladin that can read a map and follow instructions. He found some
old battle plans of our former Lance General Thrakhath in our library, and
now thusly armed with a book and map, we set off on high adventure in the
frozen north.
As the three of them tried to interpret the map, I knew my odds of survival
were slim. Maybe if Sir Rithor, Lord of the Lance, had been one of the
three paladins I might have had a chance. Lord Rithor has never lost me in
a Keep, ever, and his record for returning the bard home safely is unmatched
by any paladin of the Knighthood. Lord Gwaine's record on the other hand is
terrible. In fact I'm not convinced that he's really a paladin at all, but
suspect he's still an assassin considering how often he gets me killed. I
was already composing my explanations to the High Priest as to how exactly I
was killed by my ex-assassin ex-boyfriend while assaulting a keep with three
paladins who had no idea where they were going or what they were doing and
why it shouldn't count against my progress on my bet with him.
To be cont...
Writer: Datai
Date Wed Jun 30 02:50:30 2010
To All Knighthood
Subject Gambling for Keeps (3)
Somehow, though, much like the legendary tortoise, they crept through the
Keep. Dutifully, in true paladin fashion, they threw themselves in harms
way and killed every guard in their path that challenged them. Normally in
Keeps everyone runs around like idiots trying to sneak past the guards, and
it is in that fray and fracas that I tend to get lost. I have to say, I've
never minded a paladin's penchant to taking things slow, and I'll do just
about anything paladin style. Especially with a paladin. Slowly we ground
our way to the pinnacle. Where at my comrades decided we aught rest, and
rebless our armors. Stripping and sleeping with me is pretty much the best
idea those three knights had ever come up with, and I gleefully agreed to
that plan. Icewall is very cold, and they kept me very safe and warm in
that tower.
Now, what is tragic here is at the very climax of our journey, at this point
of ecstasy where for a moment victory was surely in my grasp; somehow it was
dashed from my hands in the final charge to the portal. I don't quite know
what happened, but it may have been some sort of divine retribution for the
previous paragraph. I blacked out. Completely. The spark that keeps me
moving was gone. I was completely without power to move. I came to to a
very familiar sight after a Keep assault, however. I was in the altar room,
and somewhat see through. And I don't mean my blouse. I mean I looked like
one the spirits I summon to prevent situations like that. This makes me
wonder if in this state if it would be possible for me to summon myself.
While I sat there flummoxed as to how I'd somehow snatched defeat from the
jaws of victory, my three companions mounted our flag upon the Citadel and
rode home.
While rightly quite impressed with their victory, the fact they had somehow
lost the bard did weigh heavily on their paladin hearts. And that was a
state of being I was entirely willing to take advantage of. Paladins have a
hard time with guilt. They seem to feel a lot of it, which is strange
considering they typically lead far purer and more goodly lives than the
rest of us. Particularly people like me who are more than willing to play
this for All it is worth. So the rest of the eve, I had the pleasure of Sir
Acre St John feeding me grapes while listening to Lord Gwaine go on and on
about how they couldn't have done it without me. It was nice of him to try
to reassure me that I was more than just moral support, however, they had
technically pretty much taken the Keep without any aid from me. The fact
that they would have never gotten the stupid idea into their head and dared
do it without me there pretty much defines what moral support is. However,
I let that detail slide, and tried to focus on enjoying the flattery.
Something that rarely anyone hears from Lord Gwaine.
Since ruining my bet with the High Priest, they have dutifully been
protecting me everywhere I go. Escorting me night and day to slay All those
terrible monsters for me. Because of this, my endless quest is nearly at an
end, and that leaves me to consider a small problem:
I rather enjoy their company. I mean, sure, they are heroic, knightly,
idiots and tend to get me killed, but it's been nice spending All the time
out with them battling monsters. If my endless quest were to come to an
end, then what excuse would I have for getting a paladin alone? It is no
wonder I have no idea how to figure out what is proper risk versus reward.
However, any time Sir Acre wants to assault Gareth Keep, and take me as his
prize; I'm pretty sure that is one Keep adventure that will be well worth
it. And I'm not going to sing "Song of Peace" to make the paladins stop.
Now that's a gamble I can't loose.
The end.. or is it? Silly endless quest...
Writer: Cherrae
Date Wed Jun 30 11:20:39 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Wed Jun 30 13:22:57 2010
Writer: Gwaine
Date Wed Jun 30 17:04:31 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jun 30 22:12:25 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Wed Jun 30 22:13:56 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Wed Jun 30 22:14:01 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Wed Jun 30 22:14:05 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Wed Jun 30 22:14:09 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Thu Jul 1 11:58:52 2010
Writer: Ianto
Date Thu Jul 1 12:21:39 2010
Writer: Ianto
Date Thu Jul 1 14:31:56 2010
Writer: Ianto
Date Thu Jul 1 16:39:38 2010
Writer: Ianto
Date Thu Jul 1 17:06:24 2010
Writer: Rassilon
Date Thu Jul 1 19:04:38 2010
To All Althainia Knighthood Austinian Immortal (Storyline)
Subject |Wilting Lotus - Dark Sting|
When Rassilon was small, he studied the ways of the Gods at the feet of a
shakenja, or wandering monk, who visited the Shiroken caravan. The shakenja
told him of the creation of the world, how the Great Forger had created
Algoron and it lands, its seas, its skies. And then the spirits of all
mortal races would come to dwell there. And each God would impart unto them
universal truths that All of the humanoid species shared.
The Heavenly Emperor bestowed upon mortals compassion. And his wife the
Empress imparted love. The Dark Trickster spread humor amongst the
fledgling races. And then the Heavenly Wu-Jen imparted dreams, and the Dark
Mistress created nightmares. The Great Gladiator gave them the courage to
fight. And each was shared by all, providing them with a common link. No
one force would be dominant in any mortal, and All would share, at the core,
the same life.
But the one he remembered most clearly, the one the shakenja stressed to him
most strongly, was the gift the Dark Damiyo bequeathed to mortal races. The
gift of fear.
Fear was his weapon and his tool, his means of controlling the mortal races.
His servants would know or would spread terror across the land, destroy all
who opposed them, until the Prophecy was fulfilled and the world was
shrouded in darkness. When the sun and moons would dim, and the stars would
die, and the end of everything would come at last.
Fear was the weapon of evil. Thus, to walk in the Light, one had to conquer
fear. Not destroy, for to destroy a part of yourself was to deny the Gods
influence. It was to make yourself incomplete. Less than mortal. Less
than nothing. But to conquer, and control, and discipline that fear.
His reflective obsidian eyes drifting open, Rassilon beheld his fear.
A terrible buzzing filled his ears, and his right hand twitched. In an
instant, it could be on the hilt of Sonzoku. He delibertly forced himself
to remain still, however, and kept watch. It wasn't a large threat, it was
scarcely the length of his thumb to pinkie with its wingspan. But it was
deadly, at least to him, since he was allergic (something else he had
learned when he was small). But only if provoked. He remained perfectly
still, despite how his heartbeat picked up.
It came to rest on the palm of his hand, and he felt his hair prickle. In a
single instant it could sting him, and barring some exceedingly good luck on
his part, it could prove lethal. The slightest twitch could set off the
giant Shokonoese hornet on his palm. And oh, how terrible was the urge to
simply smash it under his other hand. To kill before it could kill him.
But after a few moments, which seemed to stretch out as long as a millenium,
the hornet decided that Rassilon's palm was neither a threat, nor food, and
thus of no interest to its tiny insect brain. It lifted up, and flew off,
and vanished back into the foliage from which it had emerged.
Discipline had conquered fear. The Dark Damiyo held no sway over him.
Writer: Khamisin
Date Fri Jul 2 00:35:48 2010
To All Althainia Knighthood Hasaki Rassilon Maika
Subject Heavy Dreams
They say dreams can tell you more about a person than they themselves are
willing to... Not that Rassilon kept anything from her intentionally that
she could think of, but in sleep he was completely honest. Watching him
dream; remembering things in the safety of sleep, various emotions that he
hid most often from the rest of the world, and often times from her, played
across his features.
Even now concern etched his brow, an errant sable lock of hair falling over
his face and giving her a view visible to only the seldom few kept in the
intimate company of family. He tossed and turned nearly continuously in
thought and dreams and he did not sleep peaceful, but at least her husband
slept.
Carefully getting out of bed, as not to wake Rassilon, and standing,
Khamisin wrapped a kimono style robe about her form and slowly paced the
room at the end of the bed. Sleep would not come easily for her this
night... Nor had it for the past few, honestly, with this mess concerning
Hasaki still as of yet unresolved for so many. She cast one last glance
over her husband's sleeping form before slipping out the door and into the
hallway of the estate, Maika's steady breathing reaching her ears as the
young woman slept just a few doors away. Listening a moment even Maika
tossed and turned, the occasional heavy sigh in slumber due to crying
escaping her lips and Khamisin could not help for feel for her.
Slipping outside it was still dark yet, and cool, the rosy fingers of dawn
not having yet taken hold of the day, and allowing Khamisin her time of
solace. It was times like these that she often discussed the events of the
day before with the koi that Rassilon had imported from the isle. While
they obviously never spoke, the silent rhythm of their swimming about in the
pond and mere presence made them perfect listeners. After unloading what
was sure to be the most intense conversation she had given the fish in some
time, ranging from politics to religion, she headed inside as the sky
bloomed pink.
As was habit, her next stop was the kitchen but after making tea she made a
tray for Maika as well and gently knocked on the sliding door before setting
the tray on the floor in the hallway. While Maika may have come into her
life as a potential niece, and though she was not wholly certain as to what
she might become if anything; Khamisin was drawn to the young woman that her
nephew, in his exploits had harmed, even without intent.
It was not much, but she could offer her a place to stay and think. Which
she was finding more each day might be exactly what she might need, now to
find and talk to Hasaki.
Writer: Maika
Date Fri Jul 2 06:58:12 2010
Writer: Ramias
Date Fri Jul 2 13:58:03 2010
To All Knighthood Kantilles Shalonesti_Kingdom Shalonesti
Subject Observing the Vallenwoods
The former mage was fond of the bi-annual celebrations held by the
villagers out-skirting Shalonesti city. In the past few years, Ramias had
become somewhat of a celebrity amongst the children at these events, whom he
bedazzled with fireworks and a venue of simple magic tricks made grand by a
small touch of the Arcane.
Dried leaves and twigs cracked under the horseshoes of Ramias' steed as it
lazily strode through the Vallenwood. Flashes of the pathway to the
Silverstar Estate occasionally crossed his mind with All the haste of
lightning, though more lingering thoughts of walks with his departed spouse
also surfaced now and then. Aside from that, there were no personal
memories of the forest; only the refreshing enjoyments they presented each
time he passed through it.
For whichever reason, whether it be the Sun or Moons, the massive, ashen
trees were always bathed in sparkling light. There was a permanent feeling
of spring or fall here, scantly swayed by the true season. The denseness of
the trees and protective cover of their canopies both shielded the
Vallenwood from harsh winds and oppressive sunlight.
Oddly enough, it was not odd at All to see snow on the ground, or feel the
occasional breeze - it was surely the home of the Nature Goddess, basking in
her own element. Further in, the Elves who lived outside of the city built
their villages within the trees, providing a view of both architectural and
artistic genius. Fine wooden rope bridges spanned tree lengths, connecting
the homes which seamlessly melded into their natural surroundings; an effect
produced by various sanding and polishing, the priest noted. The people, if
not up in arms or hustling about in a busy, were pleasant; few were hostile
to Ramias these days, but not so many were willing to halt their daily
activities to stop for a chat. What's more, the glimpse of a bared ankle or
well toned leg was not an irregularity when speaking to a lady while
standing below on the ground. And beautiful, the priest again noted, was
the only variety these ladies came in. He then also noted these were
un-knightly thoughts, and continued to guide his horse forward.
As Ramias progressed into the thickset woods, whose massive trunks were now
painted orange by the setting Sun, he began to hum a Nordic folksong and
slumped back into his saddle.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Sat Jul 3 15:05:05 2010
Writer: Alyster
Date Sun Jul 4 02:14:07 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Sun Jul 4 06:09:07 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Tue Jul 6 12:55:43 2010
Writer: Thurias
Date Tue Jul 6 15:24:52 2010
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Wed Jul 7 22:38:11 2010
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Wed Jul 7 22:39:56 2010
Writer: Danadoir
Date Thu Jul 8 15:25:01 2010
To All Raije (rp) Religion Betha Grumf Imm
Subject Lessons from Cardinal Grumf
As a Novitiate, Danadoir had a lot to learn and a long way to go, before
he would be able to properly hold teaching of his God Raije. Lucky for him
he had of the greatest mentors to bear the mark of Raije in Cardinal Grumf,
but as everyone knows, and also have trained Ragers, Grumf is no pushover.
Grumf Thislebeard walks in.
You say in a deep voice (to Grumf) 'Lord? '
Grumf says (to You) 'tha words 'e gave ye regarding finding the gaps,
falasies ahn weaknesses en ah foe. '
Grumf says (to You) 'ye will consider well tha vision 'e gave ye. Ye will
write ah thesis upon tha matter before ye are te preach upon et. Then ye
will deliver et te mea. '
You say in a deep voice 'I will have ta cancel ma sermon... '
Grumf says 'after ah review yer thoughts ahn theories we will discuss them,
then after whot changes may come, ye will add et te yer book ahn sermons.
'
Grumf says (to You) 'Nae, ye will sermonize upon what ye 'ave already been
taught. '
Grumf says 'tha precepts ahn that o' life raised daily en tha Glory o'
Raije. '
Grumf says 'noth'n o' matters o' 'is faith should bea rushed. '
Grumf says 'No commander joins tha battle wit 'is men until tha last plan es
mastered ahn tha final order es given. Do ye understan'? '
Grumf says (to You) 'ye are o' is faith, ahn 'is servants are always under
'is gaze. '
Grumf says (to You) 'after ye give yer voice te tha populace, ahn should ah
feel et satisfactory, ye ahn ah will pray te Raije together fer 'is guidance
on tha next leg o' yer journey. '
Grumf says 'Raije guide ye borther Danadoir. ' Grumf places a firm hand
upon your shoulder before marching down the steps.
Writer: Rochford
Date Thu Jul 8 21:22:39 2010
To All Shadow Cahlizna Necrucifer ( Scorn Quest RP )
Subject The Chronicle of the Book of Shadows: Prologue
--------------------------------------------------------------
| Several days earlier, deep within the belly of Storm Keep. |
--------------------------------------------------------------
Rochford sat alone on a thick blanket within the chamber of rest while
clutching at the temples of his head. His eyes twitched as the pain coursed
through his body.
"A cure, master, " said Rochford under his breath. "I have done as you
asked, I found it, I retrieved it, it is safe-- it is safe-- it is safe. "
There was no answer, only pain, only the intense, near mind-numbing pain.
He slowly began to rock forward slightly in his humbled seating upon the
large blanket. It was a rare moment when there were none around to witness,
granting him an opportunity to allow such a mental collapse. A moment where
he could take rest from the undying struggle inside his head to hold himself
together.
He let it consume him, swallow him whole as he sank deeper into a
trance-like state of agony and endorphins, sometimes lasting minutes, hours,
days. It was then when the lights within the room faded to black and there
was nothing but darkness. Like a great weight lifted from his shoulders,
the pain had evaporated, leaving in its place, the perfect joy of waking
moments without pain.
"THE CURE IS CLOSE. "
Rochford relished in a burst of absolute clarity as he praised his Lord and
Master, "Thank you master! My life for you! My life for you! "
"YOU HAVE PROCURED AND GUARDED THE JEWEL WELL BUT THERE IS STILL WORK TO BE
DONE IN MY NAME. FIND THE LOST BOOK OF SHADOWS AND YOUR CURE WILL BE WITHIN
SIGHT. "
Rochford bowed his face down against the cold stone floor and beamed a rare
and genuine smile into the comforting darkness that surrounded him. "I
shall find the Book, master, it shall be done, " said Rochford obediently.
"GO FORTH IN MY NAME. LET NOTHING STAND BETWEEN YOU AND THE CURE. ANY
MEANS NECCESSARY. "
Then All at once, the sanctuary of a world without pain was ripped away from
him as heat and light restored itself within the chambers of Storm Keep, but
at a price. With the renewal of light, also came the renewal of agony
within his skull. He grimaced as he reached up to clutch at his temples
with talon-like fingers.
Slowly, he began to rock back and forth in a pathetic pile upon the floor
and repeating the same obedient prayer under his breath over and over again,
"My life for you... My life for you... My life for you... My life for
you... "
Writer: Enduriel
Date Thu Jul 8 21:25:17 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Thu Jul 8 21:54:58 2010
Writer: Fhaeeus
Date Fri Jul 9 15:35:00 2010
Writer: Penthus
Date Sun Jul 11 02:50:56 2010
To Asthenae Tief Fastia Zandreya ( imm RP All )
Subject Sonata: Centering Dance [1]
The night was quiet save for the soft chirps of the crickets in the
garden. Penthus lay awake in his bed, Asthenae deep asleep and nestled
beside him. He could hear the soft wheeze of her breath, sometimes
punctuated by a hacking cough. Yet every time, she would settle quietly,
tightening her grip across his chest possessively. She was positively
unflappable.
Penthus was growing used to waking up at odd hours of the night, haunted by
the memory of the raiders. He was on a special mission for Fastia, who was
still the Sultana at the time. He was on reconnaissance among them,
disguised as one of them. He had been discovered, and they did not react
well.. Or maybe they just didn't like elves. They imprisoned him, beat and
tortured him. They starved him for days in a row. Nearly two years he
spent in a cage and treated like an animal. No, no decent person would
treat an animal the way he was treated.
His memory only hazily recalled the great, dark blue shadow that descended
upon the camp one evening, the alarmed shouting of the raiders, and the
smell of ozone and burned flesh before he was carried away on leathern
wings. He spent months in recovery with the scent of sand, water, and the
dank aura of a cave.
Yet even now, months later, he could not wipe the images from his mind. Add
to that the worry for Asthenae's deteriorating health. She spent so long
house-bound just waiting for him, and such a long time away from the forest
that it seemed to have drained the years from her. She seemed so frail at
times; Penthus felt guilty. Yet despite his guilt, she chided him whenever
he would sink into melancholy over it. She was happy that he was home, and
she couldn't wish for anything more. She had her Velvet.
And here he was, laying awake again, silently begging for the images to
leave him at peace. The daytime was typically bearable, as he could be
distracted with busywork or with his unspoken game of seeing if he could
annoy the Althainians for just hanging around in their temple. Something he
had yet to succeed in. (Actually, in one instance, he found himself rather
annoyed with a winged priestess who thought it was a pity that he did not
bear a golden aura. As though she had any right to judge him. Humph!) But
every night was the same. The summer crickets, the occasional barn owl, and
Penthus laying wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, praying for sleep.
[Cont'd.]
Writer: Penthus
Date Sun Jul 11 02:53:15 2010
To Asthenae Tief Fastia Zandreya ( imm RP All )
Subject Sonata: Centering Dance [2]
Carefully slipping out from the grasp of the sleeping high elf, the dark
elf crept from under the furs and pulled on some loose pants. He left the
bedroom and climbed the stairs until he reached the garden of his home.
There was lots of space despite the overgrown areas, bushes and flowers and
crawling plants that he left to grow as nature had intended, and he found a
place in the rough cobblestones of the meandering path and he sat down. He
looked up at the moons. Kantilles was high in the sky, full, casting rays
of white over the courtyard and Sebatis was lower, only just peeking over
the trees with its waning crimson light. He could not see Drakkara, the
hidden moon. He was okay with that.
Inhaling deeply of the night-blooming flowers around him, Penthus closed his
eyes, held his breath for a few heartbeats, and then exhaled slowly through
his mouth. He repeated this a few times before he took to his feet, his
eyes still closed, and he began a slow, deliberate dance. It almost seemed
martial with the palm thrusts and kicks, the foot placements and the
movements, but it was slow, languid. It was tranquil. He focused inward,
finding his center, his root.
The dance continued for a time, he was unsure of how long. But by the time
he was finished, he felt relaxed and at ease. He opened his eyes, and found
that he had ended his dance in the northern part of his garden. He looked
upwards into the immobile face of the statue before him, that of an elven
woman of great beauty.. A woman he had seen before. He knelt down, pushing
the pad of this thumb into a rose thorn until a bead of crimson formed. He
touched his thumb to the center of his forehead, then his lips, then his
heart before wiping a line across the stone of the pedestal.
'My thoughts, my words, my heart. Your will forever be, ' he prayed softly.
He slept the best he had in years that night.
[End]
Writer: Kraxul
Date Sun Jul 11 17:49:18 2010
To Thaxanos Wargar All ( Kyri Imm Rp Cliath )
Subject Twigshredder
"High King! I 'ave tha gems readae, ef ye bae readae ta start!" ,
Roared the Runesmith Spellcrafter of the mountain.
"Aye, bae there shortlae." Kraxul made his way to the hall of Dwarves and
sat in quiet meditation. When Betha arrived with a bag full of gems, the
king looked up at her expectantly.
"How manae swords ye got fer mae ta blow up?" , She snickered.
Kraxul reached into a spirit hoard and pulled out a pair of swords, and sat
them down on the cavern floor, prompting the Thane to raise an eyebrow. The
king smirked and reached in again. After a minute there was a stack of
twenty of the finest grand arcanium swords on the floor.
"Tha Cardinal crafted each o' those. I mined All tha arcane ore tha' went
inta Kyrlynn's bars ta make tha beasts. They bae tha verrae best."
Holding one of the swords, Betha tested its superior balance, before running
her finger along its edge to feel its sharpness. The Thane nodded her
approval, as the blood ran out of her finger. "Aye, p'raps we'll nah use
all o' em up then."
Betha peered at the King, cocking her head sideways and asked "Ye bae
readae?"
Kraxul knelt on the floor and began to murmer a prayer to Raije. After a
few low-spoken words, he stood up and nodded. The Thane placed a vampiric
gem into the hilt of the weapon, then began to set a shocking gem into the
other side.
GABLOOEY!!!
The sword fragments showered them all, embedding themselves into flesh, and
rock, and clothing.
Kraxul snorted and asked, "I thot ye were gud at this, lass?"
Betha's eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at Kraxul in the way that only
a woman can manage. Without a word, she placed a gem into the hilt of the
second sword, then turned it over and glanced at the King before attempting
to place a gem into the other side.
Kraxul nodded, and shielded his eyes a bit from the inevitable blast.
Shaking the metal shavings from his hand, he looked at Thane Betha, who said
"Mayhap ye better bae prayin to a few o'er gods as well."
Kraxul smirked and said, "I'll not test tha wrath o' lord Raije, thank ye."
The Thane shrugged and said "Suit y'self, King. They bae yer swords."
Without a word she blew up another, and another.
"Stop a minnet, lass."
Betha raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"AKXO!" , The King roared, his voice reverberating around the cavern walls.
The priest came running into the chamber.
"Tha Thane bae puttin gems on mae sword. I think p'raps she cud do better
wit' tha blessins o' Cliath."
Akxo nodded and answered affirmatively before taking a knee and asking for
Cliath's blessings. A feeling of divinity overtook the room, and the priest
nodded quietly at Betha.
She exhaled slowly, placing a gem on one side. She slowly turned the fine
sword over, then quickly turned around to look behind her.
Kraxul looked at her quizzicly, while Akxo merely watched her with a knowing
smile.
"I thot I saw... In tha reflection..." She looked up and glanced at the
King. "Ne'ermind."
Quickly, she grabbed another gem out of the bag, inspected it, and placed it
into the opposite side of the hilt. She let out the breath she had been
holding, then handed the sword to the King.
Kraxul examined it and nodded, before handing it back. "Magi, ef ye wud."
Betha infused a gem of the magi into the base, examined the finished sword,
and handed it back to the King.
And thus was born... Twigshredder.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Sun Jul 11 22:22:08 2010
Writer: Beydalar
Date Mon Jul 12 00:53:53 2010
To All Shadow Cahlizna Necrucifer ( Scorn Quest RP )
Subject The Chronicle of the Book of Shadows: I - Study (1 of 2)
The Gray Church had graciously allowed him into their library. He could
spend as long as he wished, poring over the dusty old tomes contained
therein. That said, he hoped he would be here for a very short period of
time. Hours passed.
--
He was tired and pissed. None of these dusty pieces of junk masquerading as
histories had anything. This one written by some wizard who wanted to make
his predecessor look bad. Nothing more than a list of bad things about the
old guy and great things about whoever had taken over. This one bloke,
Norbert del Beaureguard, went on for TEN pages about how much he'd improved
the tower's plumbing. Norbert's janitorial expertise aside, he did mention
something about a rogue mage... Studying some of the darker aspects of
Necromancy... Residing in some overgrown temple or something on Tropica. A
tidbit. Not a big one, but a morsel of intellectual sustenance nonetheless.
All that we would be getting from Wizard Norbert del Beaureguard, he was now
into what looked to be a long treatise on how much better his design for
apprentice robes was than that of Gertrude of
Hammerclampenshanwicklebeyer's. He pushed the tome aside and opened
another.
--
Why the hell would anyone keep this? It was a registry of shipments of
various alchemical components from some fellow on White Moon Isle. Hmmm.
Some hermit still lives there... Maybe a decendent or relative of the
fellow mentioned here? Most of the components were easy to imagine growing
on a tropical island... Flowers and roots and berry extracts and the
spittle of some particular lizard, the web of a spider collected at midnight
that sort of thing. But demon bile did not sound like a flower. Distilled
succubus tears did not either. And unless he was very much mistaken, a
"hellstone cooked in the fires of misery and lust itself" did not grow in a
jungle. Yet they were All recorded here as having been received from the
supplier on White Moon. Which meant he had access to Hell. He was also
recorded as having a collection of Which meant he was worth further
research. Next book.
Writer: Beydalar
Date Mon Jul 12 00:56:39 2010
To All Shadow Cahlizna Necrucifer ( Scorn Quest RP )
Subject The Chronicle of the Book of Shadows: I - Study (2 of 2)
Now this was the sort of thing he was looking for! A list of donated
manuscripts from the library of an old (and very wealthy) wizard emiritus.
No, the Book of Shadows was not amongst them, but perhaps one of the books
listed here would have clues as to its whereabouts.
Here. Here it was. One of the older books listed. Included probably just
as a collector's item. A catalogue of tomes at one of the libraries near
Serpantol. This was exactly the sort of place one might expect to find the
Book of Shadows. Tel Kereth was the name of the library. Perhaps the Tome
was there. No, too much to hope for, but perhaps some book mentioning the
tome had survived. Something else worth checking out. He scanned through
the rest of the list, nothing of note.
--
Ah, a map. Tucked into a book on summoning golems. It was an older tome,
the methods had not yet been perfected. The map was cracked and faded, but
he could make out the basic shapes and outlines. It was to a tower in the
southern part of Althainia. Near to where Koskun Keep now stood. Perhaps
that loathsome place might be worth searching for clues as well.
--
He looked at the pile of paper and parchment before him, out the small
window at the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Morning already. Time
to return to the Keep. There was much to be done. Though it felt like
little had been accomplished, he had several at least half decent leads.
What, he expected to find the Book sitting there... Waiting for him to come
pick it up? If this was that easy, it would have been accomplished ages
ago. No, this road would be long and difficult, as All worthwhile things
were. And as with All things, faith in God would be the key to success.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Mon Jul 12 12:53:43 2010
Writer: Madilyn
Date Mon Jul 12 22:51:09 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Tue Jul 13 00:43:01 2010
Writer: Peridur
Date Tue Jul 13 11:33:31 2010
Writer: Reiun
Date Tue Jul 13 17:02:07 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jul 14 15:21:53 2010
Writer: Peridur
Date Wed Jul 14 15:55:15 2010
Writer: Gayb
Date Wed Jul 14 18:52:18 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Thu Jul 15 01:29:47 2010
Writer: Xuerin
Date Thu Jul 15 09:56:24 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Fri Jul 16 08:27:36 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Fri Jul 16 22:48:11 2010
Writer: Tief
Date Sat Jul 17 19:35:48 2010
Writer: Thorasos
Date Sun Jul 18 00:40:58 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Sun Jul 18 10:04:39 2010
Writer: Jadess
Date Sun Jul 18 10:53:07 2010
Writer: Annemari
Date Sun Jul 18 11:15:25 2010
Writer: Talik
Date Sun Jul 18 13:10:28 2010
Writer: Talik
Date Sun Jul 18 13:37:52 2010
Writer: Talik
Date Sun Jul 18 14:07:09 2010
Writer: Peridur
Date Mon Jul 19 09:18:17 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Mon Jul 19 09:27:50 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Mon Jul 19 11:18:11 2010
Writer: Lanival
Date Mon Jul 19 14:19:28 2010
To All Shadow RP Imm Necrucifer
Subject The Death of Crelius Atennim
I await you in the Sanctum, came word from Crelius. Lanival obliged, of
course, stepping through the sacred archway and onto the purest of sand.
Their meetings in the Sanctum had always portended the launch of the next
great mission, whatever it was. In a sense, this would still hold true for
this night's meeting, though Lanival would only realize this much later.
Crelius stood in a far corner of the unholy chamber and unleashed an
uncharacteristic sigh. After a moment, his hooded visage turned to Lanival.
You have done well. A bit cryptic, thought Lanival before responding, but
what else was new. What is on your mind, Chancellor? Crelius bowed his
head and walked slowly toward Lanival. Standing in front of the Dark Lord,
Crelius pulled back his hood and placed his hands on his comrade's shoulder
with brotherly care. It is time.
This sent a jolt of spiritual pain throughout Lanival, though he did his
best not to show it. Lanival opted to play ignorant despite knowing the
truth. He looked at Crelius quizzically. What do you mean? You have
transcended, my lord. It is as I have foreseen. My time here is now at its
end. You must send me to god's embrace. Bitter tears welled in Lanival's
eyes. At least dispense with your formality at this most wretched hour.
The brilliant azure orbs that had replaced Crelius' eyes briefly flashed
compassion upon his old friend, but only briefly. No my lord, now we need
it most.
With this, Crelius took a step back and began removing his armaments and
placing them upon the divine sands. A few stray tears forced their way down
Lanival's weathered old face. Do not make me do this. You cannot make me
do this! Lanival shook his head bitterly. Crelius only continued to
remove his things. You are the greatest knight the world has known. Shadow
needs you. The Sanctum needs you. I need you. Crelius carefully placed a
mighty artifact upon his saddlebag, the final remaining item upon his
person. He shook his head.
None exceed you, Lanival. Come now. Crelius took to one knee and bowed
his head, exposing his neck for a blade. Lanival did not oblige, instead
dropping to one knee himself in front of Crelius. He placed his hands on
the back of Crelius' neck and pressed the crown of his head against that of
his truest friend. Lanival wept openly. It is god's will, my lord. Steel
yourself now, Crelius whispered. Lanival lingered there for a few long
moments, unwilling to accept what must be done.
He could think of nothing but the history they had shared. From Crelius'
first arrival at Storm Keep from Eclipse as Lanival skeptically looked on,
to Lanival's return to Shadow years later, disgraced. It was only Crelius'
support for him that had allowed Lanival a chance to redeem his name. He
thought also of the heroic mutiny, their search for Shay Kayen, the
discovery of the Reliquary and its entrance to the Abyss, the balanx amulet
and its double-edged spoils, the dragon jewel and its unfathomable
history... There were countless episodes and tales of their trials and
adventures. Lanival loved Crelius dearly, moreso than he loved any other
person or thing in this life. What a cruel end to their tale, he thought.
But then another thought rushed into his mind, sent perhaps from the
blackwinds themselves or elsewhere: If it must be so, it must be you. And
he knew this was right.
He thereupon rose to his feet and gripped his regal blade. He hated this
moment. It would haunt him forever. As he readied himself for the
unthinkable, he blurted out one final query to his brother in arms. What
will I tell the men?
Tell them the truth.
Writer: Ardias
Date Mon Jul 19 15:52:10 2010
To All Shadow Cahlizna Necrucifer ( Scorn Quest RP )
Subject The Chronicle of the Book of Shadows: II - Kingdom Come Pt 1
'Of course you realize Sir, that my leads say that Serpantol should be
our destination? ' Beydalar said casually towards Ardias as they rode
through the forested trail together.
'Yes Esquire' Ardias said absently studying the trees before taking a
wandering right turn into slightly denser brush.
'And you realize that this is actually in the opposite direction of the
location of Serpantol Sir? ' Beydalar said ducking a branch and moving
through the shallow opening into the gladed area.
'Yes, Beydalar, I do' Ardias muttered as he pulled his horse up short to
study the stonework ruin on the ground.
'Just wanted to be sure you knew Sir.. ' Beydalar glanced at the same ruin
and then back to Ardias quizzically.
Ardias hitched his horse to a nearby tree and then loosed his sword in it's
sheath. Glancing around the area he stretched his neck and then turned to
face Beydalar.
'You can either guard the horses or come with me. ' Ardias put on a look of
supreme patience as he watched Beydalar.
'I know you think that's comical, but I really don't think it's All that
funny. ' Beydalar muttered as he too tied off his horse and joined Ardias
in loosing his swords and readied his arms for strenuous activity.
'I was merely offering you a choice'
'So you were'
'And you've chosen'
'So I have'
'Good'
'Great... '
Ardias pushed the brush away to reveal the grown over ruins of Old Thalos,
the stone gates dilapidated and decayed beyond even recognition of the once
grandeur they stood for. The city beyond was a mess of ruins, each building
barely even a shadow of foundation on the streets overgrown with grass and
bramble. The two swordsmen moved quietly through the streets as to not
disturb the indigenous beasts.
Turning a corner Ardias guided them down what once must have been a seedy
back alley, but now was no more cover than was a pebble on the beach. A few
taller, more resilient ruins stood in front of them as they neared it
cautiously.
'You see Esquire, when I was an Applicant to Storm Keep I needed a place to
keep my families books and records that might fall into enemy hands when I
was walking alone. ' Ardias spoke softly aside to Beydalar as they entered
the ruin with clandestine stealth.
'So I found a cellar here in old Thalos that was sturdy and could be locked.
I remember a book that might give us some clues where to find this great
tome we are bequested to find. ' Ardias stopped inside the ruined structure
and looked down.
On the ground between them lay a large brass ring, and inside it a very
thick lock lay rusted to the latch.
'I don't suppose you brought lock picking tools? '
Writer: Ardias
Date Mon Jul 19 16:24:05 2010
To All Shadow Cahlizna Necrucifer ( Scorn Quest RP )
Subject The Chronicle of the Book of Shadows: II - Kingdom Come Pt 2
'Are you kidding me? You forgot your own key? ' Beydalar's thick
baritone was barely audible as a whisper, but the irritation in his voice
granted the timbre a little extra volume.
'You told me you could pick locks' Ardias said with his own flair of
irritation, and his gentle voice edging to the side of sharp.
'I never said that! You're thinking of Zuknal or Salainn! '
'I am not... Maybe I am... But that's beside the point, you can't pick a
lock. We're going to have to bash it open' Ardias grumbled.
He pulled a short sturdy knife from his boot and handed it to Beydalar who
promptly wedged it under the locked ring and started stomping the hilt to
pry off the lock. The thunking echoed across the ruins as they worked for a
dozen minutes with little headway. Ardias, grew restless watching the
Esquire pry and pound away at the lock. He decided to poke his head out of
the ruins and see if they'd attracted any attention.
Skirting the low wall that protected them, Ardias lifted his head briefly to
catch a glimpse of the area. Nothing to the north, and the west was clear
as well. He moved over to the other side and stepped out in front of the
east side of the building.
Faster than he could react, more than a dozen magical bolts began to impact
the wall All around him. One skimmed his left shoulder, and another hit him
a glancing blow to the right hand, singing the back of it. He dove for
cover trying to avoid the volley of fire that was impacting All around him.
Finally the salvo let up and Ardias peeked his head up for half a second to
see his assailant...
A White Robed Magi stood in the clearing in front of him, frantically
reading from his book to prepare more combat magics.
Ardias stood and unclasped his cloak. As he drew his sword and leapt over
the rubble that had given him cover it fell away from his shoulders and
granted him just a little extra agility as he tumbled through the grass to
engage the human magi.
His first swing was a wide graceful arc designed to push back an enemy, the
Magi did as was meant to and leaned away from the swing, giving Ardias the
edge to push in for a jab with his off hand knife. Connecting only with
padded armor, Ardias felt a moment of slight irritation at missing, then he
felt a stunning pain in his forehead as the mage brought the head of his
staff down to crack him on the skull.
'I got it open! ' Beydalar's voice called from beyond the ruins.
'Good. I could use a little help out here! ' Ardias said woozily through
his dented skull, swinging his sword at the magi and connecting only with
his staff.
Throwing his knife blade first into the soft ground, Ardias drew his second
sword and changed to an offensive stance. Moving his feet as quick as he
could he managed to land a few scoring strikes against the magi who was now
completely on the defensive.
Feeling a familiar hand on his shoulder he instinctively lowered himself
into a kneeling position and felt the heavy boot of Beydalar step onto his
arched back. Sailing over his head Beydalar's feet connected heavily with
the Mage and Ardias quickly stood to follow on the offensive. This proved
to be too much for the Mage and with a whispered word he disappeared in a
miasma of magic coalescing.
'Lost the taste for battle I suppose.. ' Ardias said, his brown beginning
to dampen with sweat from the exertion.
'Here. ' Beydalar handed him a satchel of four books and Ardias smiled as
his hand rubbed the binding of the one he'd come for specifically.
'Excellent, now.. Where was it you wanted to go? Serpantol? ' Beydalar
couldn't help but chuckle slightly as they made their way to the horses for
the next leg of their journey.
Writer: Syndruinen
Date Mon Jul 19 18:27:48 2010
Writer: Nagintal
Date Mon Jul 19 21:12:34 2010
Writer: Nagintal
Date Mon Jul 19 21:52:52 2010
Writer: Nagintal
Date Mon Jul 19 22:24:00 2010
Writer: Reyga
Date Mon Jul 19 22:31:34 2010
To All Linhi Conclave Justice Rp Imm Storyline
Subject (Homecoming) Triumph pt1
Linhi wiped her brow with the sleeve of her robes and landed on a branch a
fair distance away from Agnis, refusing to tear her eyes off of the traitor
in front of her for a second for two reasons: she wanted to burn the memory
of what the poison of Malachive has done to her people and because her life
depended on it.
Her eyes ached from not blinking and she could smell the salt of her sweat
permeating from the sleeves of her robes. Her muscles burned from the purs-
uit of living. She raised a hand to her chest to check on her vitals and
examine the depths of the mana she has remaining.
'A comfortable sum,' Linhi thought to herself as she lowered her hand
Agnis hovered over a branch for a moment before landing roughly on top of it.
He stared appraisingly at Linhi for a moment, his eyes holding prison to a
fire as far-reaching as his greed and lust for power under Malachive's wing.
"You are certainly the most spirited of our people. It is too bad I'll have
to collect your head," barked Agnis at her while running a hand through his
raven hair.
The gesture reminded Linhi of her partner. She clenched her teeth and shout-
ed back at him, "I'd be more concerned about your own head once I get ahold
of you!"
Agnis laughed his hollow laugh and raised his dagger as he flew towards Linhi.
The white robe mage thrusted her hands towards Agnis and out came a beam of
light as white as snow: a spell of disjunction. The shade leaned to the right,
comfortably evading the crackling bolt of white energy and sliced at Linhi's
neck. She ducked underneath the blow and looked up at Agnis' chest as he flew
overhead.
She formed a fireball between her fingers as large as her short window of time
allowed and lunged it into the breast of the pixie man. He yelped and jumped a
few branches away from Linhi to examine his wound. The shade ran his finger a-
round a perfect circle burned into his shirt with a few embers still glowing
from the heat of the fist-sized fireball. The skin was tender from the burn
and it looked as though breathing had become a little complicated for him as
he took in his air heavily.
Not just for him, but for Linhi as well. Her fingertips tingled and the hairs
on the back of her neck stood on end.
She felt a cold chill underneath the canopies they fought on and Linhi felt
herself succumbing to the frigid cold from below. She breathed sharply and her
wings fluttered rapidly in an attempt to keep themselves warm and unfrozen. She
pulled her robes closely around her and kicked off of her branch before she lost
feeling in her wings and hovered above far above the trees.
The cover of the canopy was thick and she could see nothing of what was going
on below on the ground level of the encampment. She fixed her eyes on Agnis,
who was writhing from the cold and the burn wound to his chest. His wings flu-
ttered in an attempt to keep feeling in them, but the cold had already took
them as they moved no more.
"What.. I.." stammered Agnis as he fell victim to the mysterious chill, his
eyes fixed on Linhi's position in the sky.
The pixie man tucked his knees into his chest, shivered while his skin turned
a light shade of purple. He extended an arm towards Linhi as if wordlessly ple-
ading for help, but she would not help him. She stared at Agnis until he tucked
his arms close to his chest and the cold took him.
Linhi rubbed her hands together to get feeling back in them and gently descended
with the retreating cold, though she was careful not to get too close to the sen-
sation as it dissipated. She stood before the pathetic frozen corpse of Agnis for
a moment, absorbing the look of fear and helplessness in his face and decided to
descend below to meet with Reyga.
'Should I have saved him?' wondered Linhi.
(Cont..)
Writer: Reyga
Date Mon Jul 19 22:34:22 2010
To All Linhi Conclave Justice Rp Imm Storyline
Subject (Homecoming) Triumph pt2
She hadn't liked Agnis at all, and absolutely hated what he had done to his - to
their - people. Masquerading as an innocent to lure out the scattered remnants of
their people, stabbing them in the back after their show of hospitality, siding
with Malachive and the horrible collection on display in the jar below. There
wasn't a thing she had liked about Agnis and yet, she felt sad.
'Maybe this is why Reyga doesn't trust anyone in the outer continent,' she thought
to herself inwardly as she held in her tears.
Absolutely nothing good came from her expulsion from her home and after this she
wasn't sure if she wanted to come here again. Maybe there are more like him on
Tropica. She stopped to think about how similar Agnis and Reyga were and shook
the idea from her head.
She crawled through the partially frozen vines and shivered as each one of them
made contact with the skin on her hands and feet. Where did this cold come from?
Who made it? What happened? Linhi's head buzzed with questions as she made her
way towards the tree where she had left Reyga behind.
She arrived at the tree where the two had earlier separated, but he was not there.
She looked around and whispered his name, but she got no answer in return. Linhi
froze for a moment, not because of the cold, but because she knew where the chill
came from..
Reyga is not here, Linhi panicked.
Writer: Zorreau
Date Tue Jul 20 13:01:07 2010
Writer: Nagintal
Date Tue Jul 20 13:16:37 2010
Writer: Nagintal
Date Tue Jul 20 13:16:53 2010
Writer: Nagintal
Date Tue Jul 20 13:16:58 2010
Writer: Datai
Date Tue Jul 20 14:40:47 2010
Writer: Jalm
Date Tue Jul 20 16:02:36 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Tue Jul 20 19:25:54 2010
Writer: Aeabyne
Date Tue Jul 20 20:19:30 2010
Writer: Beydalar
Date Tue Jul 20 21:52:00 2010
To All Shadow Cahlizna Necrucifer ( Scorn Quest RP )
Subject The Chronicle of the Book of Shadows: III - Silent Answers Pt 1
First stop was Koskun. A dank place, a dusty place, a forgotten place.
The gargoyles that stand watch barely turn their heads to look at me, stone
grating against stone. I enter, brushing aside cobwebs and stale air. Some
priest lives here, an old man mind worn by time and trials of life. He may
have answers.
Dripping, constant dripping of musty water onto mossy stone. The smell of
mold hangs heavy in the air. Up the stairs. Hear a voice. Rambling,
chanting. A madman's soliloquy to his madness. I step quietly, softly to
the door. Firelight flickers beneath it. I listen for a bit.
The path to righteousness is gone it's d-dead I killed it there is no way to
get it back I cannot find it is gone is gone is gone no way back no way
back... More I need more I need to find more more then I will have my path
(my own) I will be like... like... (Him)... Yes it is possible of course
it is others have begun but I will finish He cannot see All He cannot know
all there must be someway to hide to flee to overcome I have some power and
through power comes power eventually I will have enough and now ah yes (I
see I hear I know) who will be next now SLEEP
My legs give out, my eyes roll back, and I hit the floor. Last thing I hear
is soft, gentle, quiet laughter coming from the other side of the door.
Writer: Nagintal
Date Tue Jul 20 22:56:05 2010
Writer: Mordagan
Date Wed Jul 21 08:34:52 2010
To All Bloodlust Dragoth Rp Imm
Subject The Rhyme of Old Man Mordy (pt1)
Outside a human youth plays swordfight in the meadows
until the dying sun summons forth dusk's shadows.
Mother warns that the night grows closer,
"Dinner is set, don't let it grow cold."
"But the day is not over!"
"Get inside and eat, do as you are told!"
He dropped his wooden sword and ran inside for supper,
a meal shared between only him and his mother.
Mother sits down at the table and starts a prayer,
"Dinner is set and here we sit, thank you for this."
"Be thankful for what. Where is my father?"
"He's gone for the war and we pray for he is missed."
The boy became angry and thought nothing of her words,
"If pop doesn't come home then I'll join the fray,
I will find his old armor, run and lift up his swords!"
"You will not unless you want to be stolen away."
The Mother warned the boy of ancient story of old
about a spirit that roams the country, a dwarf he was told.
The story of a ghast that stole children from their beds,
a horrible apparition which took children's heads.
"Not just heads but your mind he does take
being loud at night wakes him,
do not make that mistake."
The boy finished his steak and he ignored his mother,
"these old stories of yours aren't scary, they're a bother.
I'm not a little kid and I can hold a sword,
a man is brave and would never be scared of spoken word."
He left the table, leaving his mother behind,
he put on his one-piece and began the nightly grind.
Washed his face in the basin,
folded his clothes minding the lacing
and paid this routine little mind.
He climbed into a bed,
facing the window he did sleep,
into his dreams he did fall deep.
A scratching at the window woke him,
he opened his eyes to nothing,
then slept.
A whisper at the foot of his bed woke him,
he opened his eyes to something,
a finger on his lips it kept.
A shade of black and a smell so foul
peered at the young lad bearing an ugly scowl,
"Open yer mouth or even so much as cough,
ae'll bae showin' ye yer lips when ae rip them off."
The ghost sat by his bedside
and no matter how he tried,
the boy couldn't move an inch so he began to cry.
"Tha's wot am talkin' 'bout, show me yer tears.
Show mae wuts goin' on in yer head, show me yer fears"
crowed the ghost in a voice gruff with appraise.
The ghost put a hand on the lad's head and closed his eyes,
"So ye think yer a fighter, ye think ye ain't 'fraid te die?
Lad, don't ye know? It ain't polite te lie.
Ye ain't so tough an' yer heart's not hard.
Hell, yer hands dun 'ave a single bloodae scar.
Wut makes ye think yer man enough te fight in ae war,
te be like yer father an lift up his sword?
Give mae ae reason why ae shoul' leave ye as ye are,
give mae ae reason why ae shouldn' tear yer mind apart."
The ghost cackled quietly for a moment and watched the boy,
the foul apparition who thought the youth just a toy.
The young man thought long and hard and sucked up his tears,
the boy thought long and hard in front of the shade's ugly sneers.
His green eyes lit up as he discovered why,
why he should be allowed to live for tonight,
"I promise to enjoy every moment I am awake.
I will not live and be ungrateful to draw breath,
I will live and be grateful even at my death,
but it won't be tonight because my mother would cry
if she were to come into my room just to see me die.
I'll enjoy what I have but when to die comes my turn,
to you in the afterlife will be to who I sojourn.
It must be lonely to stalk shadows and to shun the light,
you'll be wanting my company when it comes time to stalk the night."
(Continued..)
Writer: Mordagan
Date Wed Jul 21 08:38:42 2010
To All Bloodlust Dragoth Rp Imm
Subject The Rhyme of Old Man Mordy (pt2)
The ghost thought for a moment and then came a chuckle,
every dreadful sound from him made the boy's knees buckle,
"Ae'll have te pass ye up on yer offer fer companionship
for ae 'ave no need fer tha liokes of a waif's friendship,
but ye got courage fer sayin' those words so calm
so maybe ae'll leave ye here fer wit yer mom.
This is yer last warnin' though so don't ye ferget,
should ye not cherish wut ye 'ave
it'll bae ae mistake ye'll regret.
Ae'll feed ye te my worms an' my Master would much so like
flesh such as yours te feast on, tha flesh of a tike."
The boy fell unconscious but awoke the next morning light
with memories of what happened hours ago in the happenings of the night.
Never again was the boy ungrateful for living alone with his mother,
even when news came of the death of his war-ravaged father.
"Death is tha price wae pae fer our experiences in liofe,
every silver-linin' is measured wit' tha subtle knife.
Cherish wot ye have lad an' don't think ye have it worse,
we All do in tha night, for as nightwalkers we are cursed."
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jul 21 09:31:10 2010
Writer: Aoko
Date Wed Jul 21 14:00:52 2010
To Malachive Admin Scorn Aoko Enduriel All ( RP Religion )
Subject Savior in Stasis: Prologue - Aoko (Part One)
The memory was fuzzy and creased at the edges, something distant that her
fingertips could just barely trace the surface of, but Aoko could still
remember the powdery white snow that blanketed Shokono in the winter. The
substance under her sandals had awarded her with a crisp crunch, but only in
return for the chance to bite into her tabi socks, thoroughly soaking them
in its hungry embrace. Small flurries had fallen from the heavens, dancing
gracefully through the winter air -- pirouetting more times than she could
think to count as she watched them, cerulean eyes wide and small fingers
numbing -- to find a new home in her sable strands, or the new kimono that
her mother had specifically asked her not to get wet.
Because of the cooling temperatures, the sanctuary of the restaurant
belonging to Riyou offered tea so warm that it tingled when it found its way
to her stomach. The warm udon and the stories that the dark eyed man
offered to accompany it were usually more than enough to restore her
resolve, and on the rare occasion that they were not, Yokemi would sweep
gracefully into the bustling restaurant. Her arms brimming with ruby
poinsettias. Riyou had eventually learned to stop arguing, as whatever his
articulate reasoning was, the flower shop owner would have his establishment
strung with flowers within the hour -- and none of the customers seemed to
mind.
Tugging her cobalt cloak closer for warmth, the monk realized that winters
in Shokono were but a sliver of the strength Icewall demonstrated.
T was difficult to tell how long she had been walking -- had it been days
since she left the sanctuary of the ship and its kindhearted crew? Or was
the numbing cold toggling her sense of time, stretching hours? -- but she
knew it was not enough, however long it had been. A strong wind tousled her
sable strands and shoved roughly against her, but the monk dug her
soft-soled boots into the snow, determined not to be detoured by the
elements. Her eyes stung and so she clamped them tightly shut, her chapped
lips silently counting.
Ichi, ni, san!
One determined push was All she had been lacking. Trusting the heel of her
boot to propel her forward and free her from the snow that had encased her,
Aoko propelled herself forward, cerulean eyes fluttering open. A soft,
almost soundless chuckle tumbled from her lips as she felt herself bounding
across the unbroken fields of white, her own footsteps the only mark against
the breathtaking white terrain -- and within minutes they, too, would
disappear, leaving no trace of her existence. Disgruntled goosebumps
trailed up and down her arms but she payed them no mind, lost in the rush of
renewed hope: something as warm and encouraging as warm udon and banter had
been.
Writer: Aoko
Date Wed Jul 21 14:10:00 2010
To Malachive Admin Scorn Aoko Enduriel All ( RP Religion )
Subject Savior in Stasis: Prologue - Aoko (Part Two)
Each new intake seemed to be littered with snowflakes, their countless
forms making it practically impossible to see more than a few feet ahead,
but as her boots pounded against the ground in a resounding beat, Aoko
remembered something she had learned some time ago: each one of them was
different. Though they blurred together to create curtains and hills of
white, none of the snowflakes were exactly alike. They clung closely to
their individuality, refusing to become anyone but themselves -- but worked
together, creating something bigger than what they could accomplish alone.
They stood for everything she believed in, constantly reminding her of why
she was here.
How did they make it look so easy?
There was only one who could make everything appear as simple as they did,
the corners of his lips curling upward in an amused smirk whenever she
playfully challenged him. More than once the winds had attempted to fool
her, nuzzling against her small form and whispering to her in the carrying
tones of his voice, but he was not here. This journey was her own, a chance
to prove to herself that she was more than what she thought herself to be --
a chance to do something for the God that had promised her freedom, that
hoped freedom for All of Algoron.
Momentarily lost within her thoughts, she failed to notice the abrupt dip.
Cerulean eyes widened with surprise as she shifted to her side, placing her
left boot in front of her right -- kicking up clouds of snow as she slid
down the terrain. The wind tugged her hood down, snatching away her
protection from the elements. Forced to tuck and execute a quick roll, she
pushed herself onto one knee, drawing a breath and expelling it in the form
of a delicate white puff.
Where was she?
A vast forrest waited just ahead, the trees fighting for dominance --
towering over one another, their branches stretching closer and closer to
the sky above in search for a warming ray of sunlight. Below her feet was a
lake that had been frozen over, the water that had once playfully lapped at
the banks forced to pause, the only remnants of life trapped deep below its
surface. Wetting her lips, Aoko sunk her knee against the stubborn ice, her
palms and fingers following soon after. The unguarded flesh of her digits
stung, but it was not enough to dissuade the small monk.
" Please, " she whispered, the quiet words almost immediately snatched by
the swirling winds that littered her sable strands with small tokens of
their affection. " Please, Lord, guide me. I can feel you here -- please,
show me the way. "
Writer: Aoko
Date Wed Jul 21 14:19:26 2010
To Malachive Admin Scorn Aoko Enduriel All ( RP Religion )
Subject Savior in Stasis: Prologue - Aoko (Part Three)
She bit down against her lower lip -- the prayer was simple and short
lived, but was it enough? -- before bowing her head, wincing only subtly as
the numbing ice bit sneeringly at her forehead. " I .. I have found my
strength, the strength that I kept turning from, that I overlooked before, "
Aoko murmured quietly, her fingers curling to test the feel of the ice
gliding against their pads. " I have found myself, just like you were
waiting for me to. I am still finding pieces here and there, but I am not
who I was before. Now I listen for your guidance. Amen. "
A smile stole across her lips as she drew a deep breath, allowing the
flurries of snowflakes to tickle her throat. Pushing up with one knee, the
monk found her footing, her arms stretching high above her head. It was as
if a searing weight that had dug itself deep enough to slice through her
porcelain skin had been lifted from her shoulders, leaving her as light and
weightless as the snowflakes that danced about her, exalting their
existence. Her cobalt cloak fluttered against her form, silently joining
the tiny white frames as she drew a quill and piece of parchment from her
bag.
It might have been less difficult to write among the sanctuary of the trees,
but for some reason felt more urgent. It was as if the letter would lose
some of its meaning, separated from the connection she had found here. Ink
colored the page of parchment in sweeping motions, each syllable legible --
but with traces of excitement, lines that carried on a little longer than
they should have, or letters that looped a little more whimsically than
called for. The parchment was tucked away into an envelope and shoved
unceremoniously into the small, worn satchel at her side for the next time
she neared a village, a pink orchid blossom accompanying it.
He would be here soon -- not the impression of him, or the memory, but the
reality of his piercing blue eyes.
Her boots skid across the frozen ice, momentum causing her small leaps and
bounds to carry her further than before.
They would find Deathmeer, she could she could feel it.
Writer: Jalm
Date Wed Jul 21 17:59:28 2010
Writer: Jaedruh
Date Wed Jul 21 18:27:43 2010
Writer: Teirnan
Date Wed Jul 21 18:52:41 2010
Writer: Khalin
Date Wed Jul 21 19:20:07 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jul 21 23:04:20 2010
To Malachive Admin Scorn Aoko Enduriel All ( RP Religion )
Subject Savior in Stasis: Prologue - Enduriel (Part One)
Sometime last month...
Small, thin, black claw like lashes curled and hugged on the porcelain white
skin of the assassin's face. They flutter and split like a hundred tiny
arms opening up to the world as pale irises rise up like twin blue stars on
a white horizon. The contrast of his unfocused eyes is nearly absent, set
upon the white skin still preserved by the youth of the human. He draws in
a breath, the silky black hair of his companion cascades off his slender
frame and pools at his side and she stirs to wake. Enduriel wet his lips
and swallowed, looking down to Aoko's head planted securely against the
center of his chest. They exchanged brief smiles, neither caring to move at
the moment in knowing this was the last morning they would spend together
for some time.
'Good morning, ' Enduriel whispered, tracing the pads of his fingers around
the frame of Aoko's face and pushing the black hair to the side, tucking it
behind her ear. His pale blue eyes followed his work and to what it
revealed to him: similar alabaster skin framed by dark black hair.
A simple hum of appreciation was her reply, 'Mmm... ' Aoko murmured with
her lips curling into a pleased smile and then offered, 'I... I'm ready. I
leave, today. '
Enduriel issued Aoko a singular, soft, nod in understanding and continued
his silent admiration. The, still-waking, assassin quirked a brow to Aoko
in an inquisitive expression, whispering, 'Tea? ' after a brief pause.
Aoko beamed up to Enduriel and leaned in to steal a quick kiss from the
rogue's lips and exclaimed, 'I'll get it ready! ', her words rushing
against his mouth with excitement.
The monk lifted her frame from the bed and padded off out of the room, her
bare feet slapping against the cold tile floor as the assassin's eyes
widened a bit following the carefree form. Enduriel would typically have
coffee, at this hour, though he knew Aoko preferred tea. She would drink
coffee, but mostly to please her company. He was trying to break her from
such habits and smirked at the irony of his most recent request.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jul 21 23:06:51 2010
To Malachive Admin Scorn Aoko Enduriel All ( RP Religion )
Subject Savior in Stasis: Prologue - Enduriel (Part Two)
They didn't spend much time away from one another. Enduriel was normally
surrounded by people at All times, for that matter, but Aoko and he had
found most of their moment's shared. He was turned off, right now. He
would fade to the background often times when others were about and talking
amongst themselves, just to recharge. The mannequin put forth a decent
amount of energy in portraying each role people posed him into and enjoyed
the company of those he trusted, given he could simply "be".
He would smile faintly a bit each time he heard Aoko murmur a question to
Dalaban as they spoke near his fireplace. Dalaban was a druid, a follower
of Malachive and has learned how to live from what Algoron provided him in
many ways. The survivalist spent the better part of the early morning
talking to Aoko about what to expect on the tundra, how to acquire clean
water away from fresh snowfall and what she can do to forage for food when
everything seems frozen. Enduriel paid little attention to what was
actually being discussed, but simply looked from one companion to the next,
observing their reactions to one another. The difference in their demeanor.
What made them unique from one another.
The door opened. No knock. The decorative mask came off in a flourish and
Cyran walked along the long black rug of the Artreri Estate's grand hall.
Enduriel expected little else from the peculiar sailor, he was unpredictable
even in his days of Storm Keep. Whatever captain harnessed the rage with in
the former barbarian, Enduriel had to tip his head to, as Cyran was now a
quiet and focused man. The assassin knew better, however, seeing the eyes
behind the mask. Knowing the thoughts that likely whirled in All directions
with in the swashbuckler's mind. It wasn't fear that prevented Enduriel
from attempting to murder the intruder, but acceptance. Knowing what Cyran
was and embracing that. The assassin also knew what the presence of the
swashbuckler implied.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jul 21 23:08:53 2010
To Malachive Admin Scorn Aoko Enduriel All ( RP Religion )
Subject Savior in Stasis: Prologue - Enduriel (Part Three)
The group left through the desert, always taking the back paths these
days and not crossing through the streets when possible. The coast was not
far off from Enduriel's home and they found the docks a short horse ride
later. Cyran whistled down a rope from the docked ship and pulled the
gangplank down for the newest passengers to board. The ship was reinforced
with plates and boards, fit to sail through the northern waters of Algoron:
this voyage would take it to Icewall.
A rather thin, greasy haired, fellow was up in the crow's nest, waving down
to the quartet as they arrived. Enduriel couldn't help but smirk at the
sight of the wizard. Pernen was a unique man, that much was certain. His
interest in power and simply changing things for the mere pursuit of
changing them had led him to the Conclave and mastering in the school of
alteration. Some days his tan would be lighter than others, his hair curly
or straight. Some would consider him an illusionist, though nothing was
facade with this particular wizard.
Enduriel wrapped his arms around Aoko's frame from behind as they shared the
horse's saddle. He rested his chin upon her shoulder and whispered his
parting endearments to her, smiling faintly and placing his lips upon the
nape of her neck. Aoko sighed, reluctance and contentment finding her all
at once as she dismounted expertly from the horse. It was almost impossible
for the assassin to consider the once-priestess as a clumsy and bumbling
girl, at this point. Her dedication to herself was admirable to Enduriel
and he held a strong faith that she would be successful in her quest.
The waves washed up for about an hour before the ship faded completely from
sight. Enduriel waiting with an impatient horse at the coast, staring off
and watching his companions drift off to sea. He had other things to
accomplish on the lowlands for the time being, Dalaban as well had training
to complete. He shrugged, letting things be what they would be as he often
did, turned his horse to spur it onward and returned back the way he came.
Writer: Puyaraek
Date Wed Jul 21 23:40:59 2010
To Dragoth Zandreya Dunnikin Zu'ju All Imm RP
Subject A Troll Escapes (I)
Alone in the jungle, after breaking from his cage and evading Seanan's
mages, Puyaraek's body told him the dangers had just begun. His had been a
sheltered, if violent life, in Seanan's camps.
Now All around him were sights and sounds he had never dreamt of. All
frightening. All keeping him alert and on edge. Survival instinct kicked
in, and his body spoke to him in overdrive; hardly did his mind have to
think, just react.
Puyaraek faced and overcame many dangers. Wild beasts, natural pitfalls,
poisoned plants, diseased carcasses. He did not have a name for this all,
but it was clear, these surroundings could kill him, but his body told him
they would also keep him alive.
His body told him many things. Where his eye thought the little red berries
looked tasty, when he brought them to his lips, his body said to stop. His
body told him to watch. For three days and nights Puyaraek sat, dozing at
times, watching the bush with the little red berries. At dawn of the fourth
day, he saw a young monkey approach the bush, though he did not yet know it
was a "monkey".
A larger ape began howling after the smaller one, frantically gesturing, but
the young one was captivated by the red berry. It ate handfuls. Puyaraek's
body told him to follow the young monkey, and he did not have to track it
far. Twenty hards on, the monkey seized, frothed at the mouth, and died.
Later, much later, Puyaraek would learn the words "nature" and "Zandreya",
but for now, he was enthralled with the dangerous beasts, and the poisons
and diseases that beset them.
Writer: Kerialia
Date Thu Jul 22 00:15:59 2010
To All Kingdom Clan ( Malachive Imm Roleplay Admin )
Subject Expedition Pt. 1
Annabelle sat quietly in the corner at a table by herself as she finished
off her dinner -- Ham with a side of broccoli, as it were. Though while she
remained quiet, the rest of the tavern seemed to be full of life, the local
bard was strumming his banjo, people were laughing. All was merry. She
even saw a few people dance every now and again, an absolutely normal day in
this village outside of Nordmaar. That was, until the tavern doors opened
again. First through the door seemed to be a woman, though her gender would
barely be discernable through All the robes she wore, which were black, a
faded black. Around her neck she bore some strange silver symbol, one she
did not recognize, though the way it sat reminded Annabelle of the Priests
that would occasionally come through the village, lecturing and preaching
their ways. This woman's face was clouded in shadow from her cowl, a black,
glossy porcelain mask sat atop her face, All she could make out were a set
of piercing hazel eyes.
The woman reached up, brushing off her shoulders as crisp white powder shook
off, falling to the ground. Even the woman's hands were covered, though in
Icewall, not to be covered was sure to develop frostbite. Behind her
stepped in a large yinn, which immediately killed All noise in the tavern.
Most people turned to look at the beast, even this far out of Nordmaar,
people still bore a hatred towards the Yinn race. The occasional patron
sent a dirty glare towards the yinn, which was returned, making that person
lower its head.
The Yinn was a large beast, towering over any in the tavern that evening.
It wore a fine black robe, clearly of high quality, a hood draped over its
head, covered in snow. The yinn raised up, mimicing the woman before him
and shook the snow from his shoulders before lowering the hood from his
head. Annabelle stared quietly, daring not to move as she shrunk herself
into the corner, the yinn untying his robe revealing the most beautiful
obsidian black plate armor she'd ever seen, each strap adorned with ruby
studs. As the yinn removed his cloak, two large lances became noticable
strapped to his black, each obsidian and jagged looking.
Annabelle quietly moved under the stairs, trying to hide from the pair as
their presence made her uneasy. She saw the woman move to the inn-keeper
and lean in, soft whispers could be heard underneath the woman's mask. The
inn keeper then shook his head, then as he looked down as two golden coins
stamped with a Darkonin emblem were underneath the woman's fingertips. At
the sight of these he lifted his eyes, glancing over to Annabelle's friend,
Bronson.
Bronson happened to be one of her best friends, and a reknowned traveler of
Icewall, atleast as reknowned you can get living in a small village like
this. The yinn turned his head, an evil snarl crossing its snout as the
woman tipped her head, almost respectfully and walked over to Bronson,
sitting down at his table.
She couldn't see much of what took place, but as the pair moved to Bronson
he straightened up, looking almost afraid. The whispers turned loud with
the occasional creek of the table as a patron stood up, or moved his chair.
None left the Tavern, too afraid to walk past the frightening pair. She
leaned forward, a small creak coming from the floor boards while she tried
to overhear the conversation.
'I know you know something, Bronson. Tell me where it is, and we will be
out of your little.. Village and out of your sight forever. Simply tell
me. ' the woman spoke.
'I don't know where it is, miss! I swear, I swear I don't! ' Bronson said,
almost in a yell.
Writer: Kerialia
Date Thu Jul 22 00:18:49 2010
To All Kingdom Clan ( Malachive Imm Roleplay Admin )
Subject Expedition Pt. 2
Began to erupt through the place, a lot of 'Oi! ' 'Wot are ye doin'
thar, ye bloodae mutt! ' seemed to be the common place phrases among the
patrons.
The yinn turned around quickly, snarling to any who dared raise objection as
he walked past. He strode straight to the inn keeper, and looked down at
him before looking back at the woman, who turned back to Bronson.
'Your last chance, Bronson. Please, think it over. ' the woman spoke
softly again.
'I don't know, miss. Please. ' came the reply.
The woman turned her head, nodding to the yinn who pulled out a large sword,
and quickly, before anyone could even gasp in surprise hilted it into the
inn keeper's chest, blood spurting back against the glasses behind him as
they inn pulled the sword out, allowing the keeper to fall to the floor.
People immediately began yelling and running to the door, but the lance was
wedged too tightly, and too heavy for them to move quick enough.
Annabelle covered her mouth and nose, too afraid to move, as the yinn
bounded across the tavern, stabbing, and slashing at anyone in his way.
People fell to the ground silent, glassy eyed. Blood coated the tavern
floor. The yinn killed without mercy or compassion, his pearled fangs
ripped out the jugular of a woman as his sword slit another from crotch to
throat, gutting her. In a moment, the tavern lay quiet. Blood seeping out
from the tavern door as Bronson sat in shock, staring at the woman as he
quickly grabbed the quill before him and made an X on the map that layed
before him. His hands shook as he sat back. The woman took the map,
rolling it up and bowed her head respectfully.
In a flash it seemed, the woman's arm flicked out from her robe and back in,
a spray of blood coming from Bronson's throat as the blade cut through the
flesh, slitting his throat. Bronson slumped over, choking on his own blood
before finally passing. The woman sighed as she wiped the blood off the
blade on her black robes, before nodding to the blood-covered yinn standing
by the door.
'Leave just as you came in. In the shadows. Do not let yourself be seen,
we'll meet up in the forest to the east of here. Use this one's blood, and
mark a symbol of Dragoth upon the walls here. ' she said to her compaion.
She began to walk to the door before stopping, and turning around.
Annabelle felt a cold shiver run down her spine as the woman stopped in
front of her hiding spot and picked up on of the gold coins. She let it
drop onto the counter before quickly moving and grabbing Annabelle by the
hair. Annabelle let out a scream, she kicked and clawed, but could not
resist the more powerful woman, dragging her across the room. The yinn
looked over and smirked as he painted upon the wall. The woman lifted
Annabelle by the hair and threw her on her back on one of the tables.
'Sorry dear. You're cute, but no survivors. Malachive bless. ' came from
her lips as she lifted a ceremonial dagger of Dragoth, and plunged it hilt
deep into Annabelle's chest, leaving it there.
She turned to the yinn, 'Let's go. ' before walking out of the tavern.
Annabelle's last vision was of the Yinn disappearing into the shadows, and
the woman turning around, her hands extended outward as a ball of flame lept
from them and onto the tavern, setting it ablaze.
Writer: Mordagan
Date Thu Jul 22 00:46:33 2010
To All Bloodlust Dragoth Rp Imm
Subject Accursed Symbiote
The fact that Mordagan was well over three hundred years old never bothered
him for a minute mentally, but his body seemed to disagree today. His arms
were sore from throwing too many snakes and his feet were callused from
chasing after elves through dense jungles both tropical and arctic.
A few of the men from Bloodlust told him that he looked like an old codger
shooing children off of his property when he participates in battle. He
would raise his oak cane over his head and wave it as he ran as fast as his
age and stubby legs could permit.
"I mean no disrespect, but it's amazing you haven't tripped over your robes
yet," the minions would joke.
"Ye'll respect wot ae do an' not how ae look or I'll disrespect mae hand up
side All of yer heads," Mordagan would shout angrily back at them.
The old dwarf rested on his side in his hammock and wondered for just how
much longer his body would hold out. How much longer would Dragoth permit
him to keep his flesh? If he awoke tomorrow, would he discover that his
worms and snakes have eaten more than what they were allowed?
The noises coming from his old body never bothered Mordagan for a moment.
Hell, he even found a bit of comfort hearing All of the distant hissing and
quiet chirping from under his robes. It rang in his ears and gave him the
illusionary comfort of camping under the canvas of a moon and stars in a
pristine swamp, but for these past few nights that pristine swamp has
become increasingly noisy.
"Fer jus' how long will this body still bae mine," Mordagan thought inwardly
For just how long will this curse, this symbiotic blessing, remain under his
control.
Writer: Teirnan
Date Thu Jul 22 09:28:52 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Thu Jul 22 23:53:29 2010
To All Kingdom Clan ( Malachive Scorn Admin Imm )
Subject Expedition Pt. 3
The wind whipped through the hillside like arrows. Kerialia pulled her
robes tightly around her body as her hazel eyes looked out from underneath
her black porcelain mask. The sounds of the edges of her robes snapped in
the wind. The large yinn next to her, snorting through its snout, which now
bore a considerable amount of snow atop it. Kerialia nodded her head as
they trudged up the steep, snow covered hill. Upon reaching the top she
spoke.
'Three miles east of here, there is a cabin. Upon reaching this cabin, you
will find a man inside. According to our informant, he saw something fall
from the sky around the time Deathmeer fought Raije. Go there, interrogate
him, and kill him once you've acquired the information. ' Kerialia nearly
shouted, fighting with the wind's roar. Her eyes looked up to the Owl
circling above, struggling with the wind as it tore through Icewall. It
swooped down at Kerialia's head in acknowledgement before taking flight and
soaring to the east. Kerialia turned to her yinn protector with a nod.
'Let us hope she does not fail, Jindr. ' Kerialia spoke. As she did she
turned, the large dragonslayer turning with her as they walked down the
tree, heading back into the frozen swamplands. She pulled the cowl down
from her head as the got to the bottom of the hill, the wind not so furious
here, her hand reaching to her shoulders, brushing the cool powder off of
her as they made their way to the Wayfarer's Inn.
'Get sleep, Jindr. You will be required later. ' Kerialia spoke, before
moving into the empty dining area, sitting in a shadowed corner, to await
her companion.
Writer: Salainn
Date Fri Jul 23 00:31:48 2010
Writer: Salainn
Date Fri Jul 23 00:32:52 2010
Writer: Sielei
Date Fri Jul 23 11:08:01 2010
To All Kingdom Clan ( Malachive Scorn Admin Imm )
Subject Expedition The Cabin
She flew, as ordered. Rising high above the forest against the wind it
was easy to see everything below. Her eyesight was so much better like this
and the freedom to fly high above the treetops was delightful. She spied
the cabin from over a mile away just before the rain started.
She landed on a window ledge and peered inside. A simple home, only the man
that she was ordered to find. Getting the information would be tricky, she
imagined. Not speaking to the living presented some challenges, but that
thought also presented the solution.
Reverting to her normal form, she said a short spell that would haunt the
man. She had mastered control of the haunting and as she concentrated on
what she was asked to learn. Then she waited. The man screamed and spun
around quickly. The look of worry exploded onto his face. No, not worry.
Fear. Fear was good. After a few minutes he started babbling, and she
wished she could hear it.
No. It didnt matter. She could get what she needed now. Another spell to
become a bear and she burst through the door. She could smell the man
pissing himself at the sight when she ripped a claw across his neck,
separating the head. Quickly, she reverted and found the mans spirit
leaving the corpse. She could negotiate with that.
After a few hours she returned to the tavern as instructed. She wrote a
lot, relaying everything the spirit had told her. At the end, she pointed
to the northeast and gave a long nod, showing the shrunken head that ensured
he would never speak to anyone else.
Writer: Xercobaltax
Date Fri Jul 23 16:20:05 2010
Writer: Jaedruh
Date Fri Jul 23 18:31:13 2010
Writer: Arreana
Date Fri Jul 23 20:11:41 2010
To All Althainia Justice Arkane Alerius
Subject Unexpected Exile - Flight (iii)
The clashing of steel on steel made a ring which resounded throughout
their immediate surroundings. But if anyone was around to hear, they made
no showing of notice. Arreana flinched briefly as she felt her strength
weakly, but sufficiently managing to counter that of her attacker. She had,
to her advantage, faster reflexes and that made countering his attacks
trivial if she maintained her focus. But that knowledge was not enough to
calm the rapid beating of her heart, which continued to thunderously pound
inside of her chest as if it knew the deep desperation of her situation and
urged her to flee as it seemed to want to do.
She felt a brief chill as a breath of wind passed over her skin and swept
away the faint beginnings of perspiration that had begun to form as a result
of the fighting. It was then that she felt her opponent's strength winning
out and ducked low, gracefully rolling to the side and releasing her effort.
The man lunged forward, unable to stop his momentum quickly enough, but his
training allowed him to roll out of the motion and back to face Arreana more
quickly than she could react.
All around her, Arreana saw the signs of life. The lush green forests of
the jungle. If she had a chance to look up she could have seen the dizzying
heights of the trees, and the way that the sun changed their colors from
dark to light as it shone through them. It was beautiful. And yet, around
her, there was only death as of late. The death of her tribe. The death of
two would- be assassin's, and now, likely, the death of either her or a
third would-be assassin. She felt lost in a sea of panic. It rose up
inside of her but she could find no way to release it. Arreana swayed on
her feet and her attacker took advantage of the moment with a lunge.
By something unknown, perhaps it was fate, perhaps it was luck, perhaps it
was some deep desire for survival which granted her a moment of clarity,
Arreana suddenly settled her thoughts despite the overwhelming panic which
had displaced her, and in the briefest of instants, had shifted herself to
the left slightly. She was fast, but the moment of unsteadiness had left
her vulnerable and even her quickest reactions could not save her entirely
from harm.
Only after the blade had passed its way through her cheek did she feel a
sudden rush of burning as her senses kicked in. Her opponent seemed to fly
past her and ended up some several feet behind her after his lunge. She
spun quickly to meet him in turn, lifting her free hand to her wound. Her
slender fingers felt the viscous fluid of her blood as it began to flow down
the side of her face. It was shallow, but it stung terribly and it reminded
Arreana All the more of the danger she was in.
She knew she could not stay here and fight. Her strength was roughly equal
to his, albeit a little bit less. Her reflexes were better, and she was
certainly smarter and more rational, but he was clearly trained to fight and
she was not. The more she fought the more she risked another mistake, and
it wouldn't take long for him to capitalize. The brief fight had already
taken its toll on her and she knew, even if she escaped this, that her
muscles would be sore later and the cut on her cheek would pulse with a bit
of pain. The slight breeze of the wind felt even chillier now than it had
before as it carefully swept away at the film of perspiration that had
formed.
Her opponent was not without his own fatigue, but the feral, maniacal nature
in his eyes suggested to her that he was willing to keep fighting until his
body refused to function any longer. Her thoughts quailed as the innocence
of her blue eyes met the lust for blood in his own. It was a passion she
hadn't seen before. Even in the last battle of the Absaroke, she hadn 't
the chance to look into any of the invaders' eyes. She hadn't had the
chance to see a reflection of madness.
Writer: Arreana
Date Fri Jul 23 20:12:36 2010
To All Althainia Justice Arkane Alerius
Subject Unexpected Exile - Flight (iv)
Her opponent lunged again, but this time Arreana launched herself into
the air. It was not a full flight, simply a quick beating of the wings
which allowed her to soar over his head and land a distance away behind him.
He whirled around quickly to face her, snarling like an animal. He was
quicker this time, and reached out an arm as Arreana slighted to the side,
ensnaring her and driving her to the ground.
Arreana looked up in surprise, gasping as the wind was knocked out of her.
The man lost no time in quickly positioning himself on top of Arreana,
driving his knee into her stomach. With a quick flash, his dagger was
suddenly hovering inches above her exposed throat. Arreana knew she had to
react quickly. Her opponent was playing with her, but his fury was enough
that he wouldn't play long. She recognize her opportunity almost
immediately, for the man had taken the moment to leer at her, bringing his
face to hover above hers, near the dagger.
Acting almost instinctively, Arreana opened her mouth and let out a fierce,
sonic shriek. The power of her vocals was enough to send her opponent
backwards. Reacting quickly, she reached up and snatched his dagger with
her free hand, arming herself with two. She wasn't terribly proficient with
two weapons, but now her opponent was unarmed, dazed, and she had the
opportunity she needed to end it. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to do
it.
Within a matter of seconds, she had her daggers brought close to her
opponent, and he stared wide-eyed up at her, pleading. Flashbacks raced
through her memory of her village, of her father, mother, of All the people
that needed to be avenged. And yet, in that moment, something stayed her
hand. Perhaps, in the heat of the moment, in defense of her life, she might
have been able to land the death blow. But now that her opponent was on the
ground, helpless before her, she found herself unable to finish it.
She didn't have much time. A sign of weakness and her opponent might try to
take advantage of his situation, but she was quicker than he might imagine
and such a move would likely end in his death. Her screeches had been
terribly loud and might have alerted patrols in the area. With these
thoughts in mind she acted quickly, lifting the blunt side of the dagger and
hitting hard against the man's temple. She watched as he slumped against
the ground, appearing lifeless but for the steady rise and fall of his chest
in breathing.
She thought, for a moment, of keeping the daggers, but the shiver that ran
down her spine at the mere thought of them was enough to cause her to toss
them aside. Arreana looked up at the trees and caught a glimpse of the sky,
a faint speckle of light blue amidst the various green hues of leaves in the
upper canopy. For a moment, then, All seemed calm and peaceful, and her
mind wasn't forced onto her present situation of fleeing and flight.
'Quick! Heard it over here! ' shouted a voice nearby, but still a bit of a
distance off. Arreana sighed and tucked in her wings, turning and running
in the opposite direction. Tropica could no longer be her home, they would
keep searching for her here. She needed to find a refuge, free from their
reach. She needed to get to the Tropica Docks.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Fri Jul 23 23:28:51 2010
Writer: Diuxa
Date Sat Jul 24 03:03:33 2010
To All kingdom clan ( malachive scorn admin imm crothus )
Subject Expedition - Following the Fragments
The small Yinn caravan, complete with slaves, lay very much a slaughtered
mess around the two orcs as they stood over their own captives. Many days
had passed while they tracked these caravans, while they watched who exactly
traveled with these guarded forms of currency. It had taken them both a
good deal of patience while they waited for their moment and now that she
stood over the scholar, she didn't want to wait longer.
The blood of the slain Yinnae guards was warm, a welcome sensation out in
the icy, snowy plains of Icewall but her fury was warmer as she leaned down
to afix the scholar in her pale gray gaze.
"Your eyes tell me that you know what I am going to ask" She said in a low,
almost sultry tone. "So you can tell me and make this quick for All of us
or you can indulge my creativity and you can tell me while I tear your skin
off to make me a new cloak"
Crothus grunted with amusement behind her. She ignored him, All her
attention focused on the robed scholar. His satchel was full of books and
scroll and he was bloodied and soaked by the snow. She knew he would
probably resist and was almost glad when his dark gray eyes hardened in that
dog-like face and his muzzle snapped tighter.
"I know you understand me" She grinned at him then and with a glance at
Crothus, set her counterpart to work on the scholar's aide. The slaves, of
which there were only four, remained bound to their iron post. Consisting
of two humans, a felar and a young looking minotaur. Terror was a bright
fever in their wide eyes as the dark furred Yinn aide let out a cry and
tried to worm away. Crothus grabbed the creature by the ankles though and
pulled him back into place. Short agonized screams began to peal out of its
throat then as the bulky orc took out his knife and got to work.
Diuxa grabbed the muzzle of the scholar and turned its head forcably to
watch, greatly pleased as his eyes got wide with horror. "N-no! " He cried
out as the cries of his counterpart increased with bloodcurtling shrillness
and swung his head around to Diuxa. Almost immediately, the cries subsided
into breathless sobs.
She leaned in then, not foolish enough to get near the still dangerous jaws
of the Yinn scholar but just enough to hear what the creature had to say.
He was panting in terror, his gaze shifting constantly back to the younger
Yinn who was still awake and still gasping in utmost agony. She was both
witness and victim in just how fear and torture could loosen a tongue to say
almost anything. She leaned back a bit when the scholar assured her she now
new everything he did.
"You need to know, " -she murmured, a malicious gleam narrowing her gaze- "I
know where you keep your family and if any of what you have told me is
false, I will seek them out and skin each of them alive while they hang from
their ankles"
The Yinn's eyes widened and he shook his head, "I swear. I swear upon
Cliath"
Her grin was venomous before the screaming arose again, hitting an even
higher octave.
By the time they were done, blood littered the ground in a wide swath and
all that remained of the two Yinn scholars were skinless bodies, with the
exception of a symbol of Fatale carven into their chests. The slaves,
likewise, All lay slain in various different ways around the iron pole they
had been shackled to.
The snow was coming down in thick swaths as they left.
Writer: Lavinah
Date Sat Jul 24 18:25:01 2010
To All ( religion rp immortal dragoth )
Subject The Library, Again
Lavinah had grown to despise the library. Not quite as much as a few
specific individuals, and certainly not as much as those infernal things -
boats, but near as much.
There wasn't anything particularly frustrating about the library itself, but
a myriad of things adding up to one massive headache. First was actually
finding the library, which today, took her near two hours. Two hours of
wandering through these too-alike hallways before she found the shelfs
themselves, quite by accident.
Then, the vastness of the works here. Having spent quite some time within
these walls, Lavinah was well aware that anything one could possibly wish to
know was stored somewhere on the shelves. But the knowledge here was so
vast, so complete, that in ten lifetimes she might know a third of it. And
she wasn't near confident that such an estimate was far, far too high.
And she knew there was a librarian somewhere, she sensed him and repeatedly
noticed that books were put back after a time. Not once did Lavinah see
him, in All her time here. And she had looked. Knowing that someone - or
something - knew this library far better than her simply amplified the
frustration.
Still, his Majesty Zayin wanted her to research something that likely didn't
exist even among every last book here. But she would look, because she
served without question, even if it was a fool's errand.
Which this assuredly was.
The events recently had effected the King in a way Lavinah couldn't quite
place yet, but it was something she had not noticed in All her years of his
acquaintance. It worried her, an itch in the back of her head, smartly out
of reach. Zayin was a constant, one of the very few certain in his place.
But that confidence seemed to be on quite uncertain footing at current and
Lavinah hoped that none other noticed it.
Writer: Aricka
Date Sat Jul 24 22:24:15 2010
Writer: Selunia
Date Sun Jul 25 01:24:01 2010
To Nordmaar All Zandreya Roleplay
Subject Research and Revelations - Part One
Going back and forth between Nordmaar and New Thalos physically hurt.
One moment she was shivering, gritting her teeth to keep from shivering in
front of the Captain and the next the afternoon heat of the desert was
smothering her. After the moderate climate of Shokono for years, the pain
was physical and it took her a couple hours before she could walk and speak
without wanting to throw up. When she could finally leave the shop that the
gate had led to, she felt sick, but resolved.
There was a certain nostalgia in seeing so much of her birth place. She
could hardly believe it had only been a few days since the Golden Koi had
docked at the Althainian port. Time truly was a strange thing, but perhaps
no stranger than any beings perception of it. Moving quickly north she
found the stables and paid for a mount, though it was only for the journey
to the nearby northern province Nall Aruh. After all, that was where she
had been born.
Before the moon had risen she found herself staring at the broken down
doorway to her family's home. The day her father had died, she had dragged
his body outside, built a pyre and lit it only to walk away before the
flames had completely consumed her father's remains. She liked horses, but
she wasn't meant to take care of them her whole life.
The last shards of the battered door cracked and fell to the floor as she
pushed inside, brushing away old spider webs and years of dust and debris.
She could hear the scurrying of vermin and the scuttle of insects. It never
ceased to amaze her how quick nature was to take back anything it could from
the hands of 'civilized' people. Even a well used home had to be careful
not to let the vines root too deeply into the walls.
Most of the books had been looted from the shelves and what remained were so
weather worn and baked that the ink was All but gone. Some of the pages
even crumpled in her hands, falling to the floor in an unrefined,
confetti-like dust. Despite the lack of human occupation, the cottage was
not empty, so even as the search turned into hours rather than minutes, she
never felt lonely. Even if the celestial bodies had not been in the sky,
she had the creatures that had turned her old home into their current home.
She was happy to let them have it.
Midnight passed, the desert turning frigid, almost icy, even in the midst of
summer. An old, moth eaten blanket became a secondary defense against the
chill even as she made a small fire in a jar to avoid disturbing the birds
that had begun roosting on the cracked and ruined chimney. She managed to
find some old candles which still had their wicks and lit those, as well.
To those nearby, it probably seemed as if the old cottage was haunted.
Eventually she had to take to pacing to keep herself warm enough, her soft
footfalls stirring up previously agitated dust. It was nearly dawn, and her
fingertips had long since turned blue, when she finally found the book she
was looking for. Rather, she had finally discovered her father's journal.
She took time to put out the candles and the fire she'd made. She even
tossed the blanket back on the bed. Let it feed and give warmth to other
creatures.
When she left she didn't look back once. For now, her home was wherever she
laid for the night because she carried it with her. As she struggled to
mount her horse and reign him toward the port she wondered if that would
soon change.
Writer: Selunia
Date Sun Jul 25 02:50:53 2010
To Nordmaar All Zandreya Roleplay
Subject Research and Revelations - Part Two
The restaurant called the Black Rose had a blissfully large fire. She
sat as close as possible to the brightly dancing flames to let her body soak
up the heat. Leaning comfortably into the high backed chair, she carefully
opened the old journal in her lap. The dry crackling had her terrified the
book might fall to pieces before she could even find what she wanted. As
carefully as she could, she turned past the first page and then bent close,
doing her best to decipher the carefully scrawled lines which time and
weather had nearly washed away.
Half way through deciphering the third page, a voice startled her. The male
had come seemingly out of nowhere and as a result she'd nearly toppled right
out of her chair to keep from damaging the book in her lap. Her heart
quickly calmed down as she found herself in warm conversation with the
highlander. Of course, he didn't have the accent the Captain had and she
wondered about that. The topics flowed easily from what she was doing, to
family, to the markings he'd put on his own body with a needle and then
finally fare wells.
She hoped they would speak again.
Several more hours passed. Now and then she had to stand and stretch out
her sore arms and legs. She would even ease the tension in her neck by
rolling it, cracking it, then stretching out those muscles, too. After
slumping back into her chair, she stared at her father's journal a bit
dejectedly. So much of it had faded or crumbled. Still, for the time
being, she had nothing better to do. At least for the moment.
With another stretching break past, she sat back down. One of the waiters
refilled her water and she thanked them before picking the book back up,
turning the page. She nearly spit her water everywhere.
" ... Nordmaar ... Missing ......... Finnien MacA{- ... Heart broken. "
It was the her father recounting a dream he'd had about the day his uncle
had gone missing. The words were hard to discern against the parchment, but
there they were. In her father's own hand. Now, if she could simply keep
the book from falling apart until she could speak to Ogilvy again.
From her bag she drew out a large, clean cloth and a small vial. When she
uncapped the glass cylinder the smell of lavender almost overpowered the
fresh roses in the room. Several drops went into her glass of water before
she put the vial away. Another bottle came out and some drops of that were
also poured into her glass before it was All stirred together. After
dampening the cloth with the mixture and making sure that it was almost dry,
save the oily resin left by the two oils, she wrapped the book. Hopefully
the two would put some life back into the aged leather and the cracking
pages, though she could do nothing for the ink.
Leaning back in her chair, staring at the wrapped book on the table, she
sighed deeply. It had been a long few days and she knew that, even before
this revelation, her future was unfolding rapidly. She would have to see
what would come and take it in stride.
Writer: Mordagan
Date Sun Jul 25 06:35:23 2010
To All Bloodlust Dragoth Rp Imm
Subject Two Hundred Years Ago pt1
Two hundred years ago..
"Preparations fer tha' transfusion are complete," Mordagan said to the back
of a cloaked man staring at his divining tools.
The cloaked man turned to face Mordagan and stared down at Mordagan over his
bare chest riddled with tribal tattoos and scars. The human's body was rife
with youth and vitality, but looking into the eyes of this gray-haired man
told the story of a life that has exceeded fifty years.
"Good. Prepare the specimen," said the cloaked man in his deep voice.
The young dark dwarf nodded and walked around the cloaked man and towards the
table he had been staring at intently, but it was no table. It was a casket.
Mordagan brushed aside All of the cloaked man's diving tools and they fell to
the floor unceremoniously. Devil's club amulets, raven skulls, assorted charms
made of bird feathers and a dried snake bent in the shape of an ankh All made
the cold hard floor their new home.
The chambers in which Mordagan and the cloaked man experimented in rested deep
in the mountains of Tropica where it was cool and dark. Best of all, what they
did there, their rituals, ere hidden away from the public eye and away from
the harsh words of dissentors. The air was thick with incense made from both
harsh and soft-smelling herbs such as cloves and labrador, but burning these
herbs did more than just make the room smell nice.
These smells helped to induce trances in individuals, to help light the way to
the spiritworld. To perfect calm and solitude.
Mordagan opened the casket and pulled out the dried and embalmed corpse of a
gigantic python. He wrapped the perfectly preserved dead animal around his
arms and shoulders and turned to face the cloaked man. The man stripped himself
naked and left his cloak and other belongings on the floor beside a stone table.
"Urgh," grunted the cloaked man as he used one hand to grab his chest and the
other to support his weight on the table.
"Wot. Wot's wrong," asked Mordagan as he rushed forward.
"I.. ungh!" cried out the man in an anguished voice.
It became clear to Mordagan what was going on as he watched the man suffer and
writhe on the floor like a wounded animal. He heart is giving out. He had, just
before performing the first trials of his life's work, reached the end of his
rope and Dragoth was pulling his line back in. The man twisted for a few moments
and then nothing. Dragoth granted him his relief.
'Aye. This is how wae All look in tha end,' Mordagan reflected as he stared at
the corpse of the naked man.
'Yesss, but what will you do now with thisss new-found awareness," sounded a
voice inside of the dwarf's head.
The snake on Mordagan's shoulders wriggled for a moment and its mummified body
coiled around Mordagan's waist, applying moderate pressure as its sunken eyes
peered into his own. The dwarf resisted the snake for a moment, but suddenly
stopped as he realized he was in the presence of an avatar of his faith. A
messenger of Dragoth.
"Ae'll continue his work," Mordagan said as he cleared his throat from the shock
of having his dead subject speak to him.
The mummified snake's rancid tongue flicked out of its stitched maw for a second,
tasting the air around it and Mordagan, 'I am not convinccced. You are missssing
a pair of handsss.'
The dark dwarven apprentice uncoiled the snake's foul body from his and climbed
on top of the stone table just inches from where his master's body lie. The dwarf
was not keen on being judged by a creature that has already lived its life and
was now resisting its own death.
"Unless ye got a pair o' those ye kin loan mae, ae don' want te hear it," he
said.
'Impudent mortal,' hissed the snake angrily as it resisted Mordagan's grip and
wrapped its massive coils around his neck. 'I have more hands than you can count
and nearly All of them unseen.'
Mordagan croaked as the mummified snake's coil began to squeeze the air and life
Writer: Mordagan
Date Sun Jul 25 06:37:21 2010
To All Bloodlust Dragoth Rp Imm
Subject Two Hundred Years Ago pt2
out of him. The dwarf began to scratch at the snake's rotten flesh with his finger
nails and towards freedom.
'Do you feel them, dwarf. Can you feel my handsss around your neck?' rang the
angry voice of the snake inside Mordagan's head
(To be continued.)
Writer: Zakesh
Date Sun Jul 25 13:18:48 2010
To All IMM Drakkara RP
Subject Finding Faith
Dark was the temple where Zakesh had stumbled onto. No other place like
it had he seen before. The chanting of mages and priests echoed throughout
the temple. Gray marble walls reflected the soft glows from the iron
torches that lined the walls. Upon entering the temple Zakesh was met by
priests with quivered brows. It was obvious that it was rare that a yinn
would step inside the temple as dressed as he is. Zakesh quickly moved
around the temple, noticing the small dark spaces and shadowed areas the
temple was riddled with. A sort of sly grin crept upon his face as if he
was pleased with the structure and layout of the temple.
Walking toward the center of the room which was dominated by a curious
statue, Zakesh idly scrapped his claws along the rows of pews, mesmerized by
the pulsing magical nature of the alabaster statue. Closer and closer he
walked, bumping into a priest and paying no mind. At the foot of the statue
he looked up at its towering form. The priest, now on the ground, thought
it best not to confront the yinn but inform him of what he was seeing. "It
is the Goddess of the Dark Moon." Zakesh turned his canine eyes on the
priest, a fierce look of both anger and pride caused the priest to hesitate
and rethink his next words. "The-the Dark Mother, Drakkara." Stuttered the
priest, obviously fearful of the yinn. Zakesh looked downward in thought,
turning his head away from the priest and back to the statue, his expression
changing to an inquisitive expression. The priest took the brief moment of
distraction and quickly went off, away from the yinn. Drakkara Zakesh said
with a heavy -k-, saying the name for the first time.
Writer: Beydalar
Date Sun Jul 25 13:44:10 2010
To All Shadow Cahlizna Necrucifer ( Scorn Quest RP )
Subject The Chronicle of the Book of Shadows: III - Silent Answers Pt 2
The first thing I notice is that my left eye has been removed. This
causes me no small distress. I want to look down, I try, but I don't move.
All I can see is stone ceiling. I think I can still hear. I hear someone
moving... To my right? Feel something jab my arm. Going to pass out
again.
I regain consciousness, I see the bastards face. One eye is brown, the
other gray, blood and fresh stitches surround it. He took my eye for his
own.
I cannot move, iron bars seem to press on my limbs. I cannot feel the cold
of their touch, only their weight. I hear heathen words being chanted over
me. I feel the cold dagger enter my chest, pierce my heart. I realize it
has already stopped beating. How long have I been dead? Am I dead? Why am
I still... Here? What blasphemous arts tie my soul to my body? As these
thoughts swirl, I notice my body begin to move. I cannot feel it move, my
limbs still feel cold and numb, but I can just see my hands begin to grasp
and flex. I... It sits up. This thing I'm just an observer in. I hear a
voice that was once mine offer allegiance and servitude to the priest with
my eye. He cackles and accepts.
I am standing now. Walking out of the room. A shambling husk. I walk
downstairs, my movement slow and ungainly. I enter another room, this one
large. It is filled with rows and rows of bodies. All standing. All
waiting for commands. I join them, and wait in darkness.
What seems like days pass. I cannot tell. I do not sleep. I simply stand,
and wait. I try to think of ways to get out, to somehow regain control of
my body. Nothing. I try with All my might to force my arms to move, my
face to twitch, my eyes to blink. Nothing works.
Robbed of motion, voice, and All sensastion, at the end of hope I do the
only thing left for me to do.
I pray.
Writer: Huguette
Date Sun Jul 25 16:07:57 2010
Writer: Madilyn
Date Sun Jul 25 16:21:01 2010
Writer: Zayin
Date Sun Jul 25 16:23:42 2010
To All Devion IMM Religion RP
Subject The Hunt - Cornered Subjects
As with most major breaks in his life - marriage, divorce, news of Nadrik's
capture, news of the death of his best friend, news of his impending coronation,
so on and so forth - confirmation of suspicions regarding the Malachivites had
come earlier in the day while Zayin was working on getting three sheets to the
wind, in this case a very apt term as he was preparing himself mentally and
physically for an impending naval battle with either Arkane, Nordmaar or New
Thalos. Now, sitting on a floor in an inn that lay in ruins, char marks and
large wooden spikes and splinters jutting upward around him, one very nearly
violating a very inviolable orifice, some part of his increasingly enraged mind
wondered just how such fortune had twisted so easily in the blink of an eye.
The summons had come at the most inopportune moment conceivable. Sqwib had
sent word that Kerialia was back in the Wayfarer's, something Zayin had seen
himself earlier in the day while working at a second drink of absinthe -
promptly alerting the proper authorities, namely his allies. Naturally Sqwib
had sent word just as Verminasia prepared to do battle with Nordmaar for the
bronze. Zayin did the only thing he possible could - he referred Sqwib to
Abaddon. Over the last year he had come to trust Sereb's abilities absolutely
and he knew the man able to cover for him in a simple capture, containment and
interrogation mission.
As the battle came to an end Madilyn made her summons, saying the Priestess of
Malachive was cornered but not yet taken - a matter that caught Zayin slightly
off guard. He quickly gathered his people and ventured to Icewall to join his
allies. What he found was a room overcrowded with members of the Dark allies
surrounding two Malachivites. Unsurprisingly, Kerialia didn't seem phased in
the least by how excessively she was outnumbered. Surprisingly, she was not
as yet disarmed and in chains.
He did the only thing he could. He issued commands while lightly feeling out
the subject - watching for any response to several artifacts the Malachivites
might be seeking on Icewall. The mask the woman wore hid most tell tale
signs, though the attempt at blowing off the possibility of Deathmeere's
frozen body immediately with sarcasm did make a minor buzz in his mind as it
was the typical Malachivite practice to blow off the blatantly obvious.
Then had come the surprise that very nearly cracked him.
Writer: Zayin
Date Sun Jul 25 16:26:56 2010
To All Devion IMM Religion RP
Subject The Hunt - Cracked Facade
Zayin made a habit of going into any situation with every contingency possible
in mind, plans of reaction to those contingencies and further contingincies
that might arise from those reactions in mind. A problem was never addressed
in a straight line but in a web which would always allow at worst a circuitous
route back to his initial aim. This time, however, an unforeseen variable had
entered, catching not only himself, not only his people, but All the Dark
alliance present in the room off guard.
Enduriel sneaking into the room and holding a knife to his throat while
demanding everyone stood down he'd planned for, leaving his back to a nexus that
Enduriel couldn't possibly reach. Several of the people in the room winding up
being Malachivites and turning on their "brothers and sisters" he could have
accounted for and would not have surprised him. Hell, Malachive Himself storming
into the room and personally smashing Zayin into a bloody smear was even a
possibility in mind. What had not been labelled possibility was a divine in
origin earthquake sending everyone but Kerialia and her crony to the ground.
That had been surprising. Almost being sodomized by a large wooden spike that
erupted from the ground afterwards was like a slap to the face.
Zayin came very close to being memorialized as the man who died with a stick in
his ass. He glared down at the offending piece of lumber that pierced the robe
between his thighs and nearly screamed in rage before catching himself and
attempting to gain some measure of control. He looked around at people he
considered friends or at worst compatriots, took in their damage because of his
oversight, and the rage only built, a virtual tempest of fury.
He gave the expected orders and tried to put on the appropriate mask for the
situation, one of indignation (which was close to the truth) and concern for the
well-being of others. He only half pulled it off, an offense that only increased
his anger.
As his left eye twitched and his fingers danced spasmodically behind his back he
came to the firm conclusion that he would have to very quickly re-find the center
of his deceptions or risk losing himself to one of his masks - that of diligent
hunter of Malachive.
The problem was - with the carnage around him there simply was not the time or
concentration necessary for it. So instead, he paced and did his job.
Writer: Madilyn
Date Sun Jul 25 16:28:29 2010
Writer: Zayin
Date Sun Jul 25 16:33:04 2010
To All Devion IMM Religion RP
Subject The Hunt - Paradigm Shift
After the wounded were lightly treated and carted away, Zayin remained behind
the others. Something had seemed to trouble Sereb, a matter that would have
worried Zayin if he wasn't still on the edge of a precipice staring down into
an abyss of stupidity blaspheming the proper utilization of vengeance. He made
his way to the bar across the inn, finding a woman cowering behind the bar.
A slammed fist on the bar got the woman's attention. Apparently what was meant
to be a reassuring grin wasn't being pulled off right - something he would have
recognized if he could feel anything beyond his clenched teeth as his entire
face was entirely too tight - as the woman was still shivering as she looked up
at his Crown then stood shakily. He didn't bother to wait for any sort of word,
he simply hissed, "Ale."
The woman hopped to it, spilling some of the mug's contents on the bar, but
otherwise getting it to Zayin in quick order. He took a mug, felt the reassuring
sensation of cold ale entering his mouth, throat and stomach to branch out to
other parts of the body, and also found that it offered no real reformation.
His mind still raged.
He prayed for transportation, holding onto what little part of himself wasn't
still not only seeing but being red that recognized the importance of continuing
the illusion of being a King in control of himself.
Lavinah contacted him from a far away library and he gave her new orders - to
seek -any- means of protection against future divine attacks. He doubted that
such divine protection existed, but he knew if it did, Lavinah would find it.
She seemed worried but he simply wasn't in the proper state of mind to give her
the reassurance she needed.
He then found Huguette at the Room of Healing and Contemplation, her grievous
wounds being tended to by Liviya. The Baroness had borne by far the worst
wounds of those present. His focus in priesthood had not been healing, however,
so he tried to stay out of the way, watching Liviya work her divine magic while
he paced and sipped as his ale.
Zayin had been caught off guard. He'd been unprepared. He'd damned near seen
several people of importance killed because of his lack of foresight.
He needed a new paradigm. He was fighting something that claimed to be Chaos.
He'd taken an ordered approach. He'd done something predictable. He was in
a box. There was only one solution when a barrier presented itself.
Smash it.
He hurled his half empty mug of ale against the wall as the thought entered his
head, apparently catching the Admiral off guard who quickly glared at him.
I needed to destroy something.
She didn't get it, but she nodded regardless.
The shattering sound acted as the necessary impetus to regain control, at least
for the moment. In his head, he stepped back from the precipice and began to
think quickly, closing his eyes in the process.
Malachive wanted to play a game. Malachive and His servants thought themselves
Chaotic. One never overcame Chaos with order, at best one masked it.
Something unexpected would have to be done while being masked by the expected.
Within seconds a plot began to form behind his closed eyes, pictures and new
webs with new variables. He'd never directly faced a God before but his will
would not be shattered by a mere near death experience.
Within minutes Zayin began the way he did with All plans he formulated.
He began to talk.
Writer: Nagintal
Date Sun Jul 25 20:51:44 2010
Writer: Nagintal
Date Sun Jul 25 21:21:44 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Sun Jul 25 21:25:58 2010
To All ( Malachive Scorn Admin Roleplay Imm )
Subject Expedition Part 4
Kerialia gazed out from underneath her mask over the large, ice-covered
lake. She hummed to herself as she stepped, and jumped, feeling no give-way
in the ice. She estimated the ice was atleast six feet thick. She reached
up, running a hand through her hair in annoyance. She hadn't prepared for
this.
She knew the ice would be thick, but she did not think it would be this
thick. Not only did she have to find a way to cut through the ice, and keep
the hole from freezing over. But among her entire group, there was not a
single sea elf. Which in itself, presented the problem of how to search the
lake. Then, even if they managed to search the lake, should they find what
they searched for, there was no way to actually bring it up from the lake's
depths.
This All began to be quite maddening. Several approaches had failed
already. The small group of adventurers who she hired from Arkane and
Verminasia took almost three days to penetrate the ice. They weren't used
to working in such harsh conditions. The raging blizzards, the fierce
winds. All of it was a carefully designed plan it seemed to slow them down.
If Turpa had still been alive, instead of her guts smeared on the floor of
Malachive's palace, she would have thought the goddess to be working against
her.
The group of workers had just managed to crack the ice, getting to the icy,
frigid waters underneath. Before it began freezing up again. The air was
so cold here it seemed that without magic, they would have no means of
keeping the ice open. It seemed this attempt failed day, after day, after
day.
The most troubling for her, had been when she arrived from the Wayfarer's
after skipping through gateways between nine different continents before
returning here. Having just nearly lost her life, and coming to the camp to
find that absolutely no progress had been made, and the ice had just
re-frozen the hole.
She sighed to herself as she recalled the events in the Wayfarer's. She was
not surprised that Zayin would order his pack of misfits to attempt to
capture her, in fact she counted on it. She had been waiting there
diligently for Zayin and his cronies. Waiting for them to make their move
on her. Though, the events in what took place were not entirely what she
had expected, the outcome was a bit of an improvement over her previous
idea.
Kerialia had been prepared to torch the entire inn, along with everyone in
it, including herself. She had just started to do so when the ground shook,
spikes rising sharply to impale her enemies. Then a path rising from the
ground, allowing her to simply walk from the inn.
A smile came to her lips as she thought of these events. However, quickly
vanished as she looked back to the lumbering ogre clumsily chopping away at
the ice. She turned her head to the shaman at her side, who seemed to be
gazing off to something of no importance, a silly smile on her face.
'Sielei. Contact our Conclavist, bring us our mages. '
Sielei seemed to snap out of her gaze and nodded, bowing her head in
acknowledgement as she walked off to one of the cages, with a carrier hawk
inside.
Writer: Nagintal
Date Sun Jul 25 22:12:30 2010
Writer: Nagintal
Date Sun Jul 25 22:12:53 2010
Writer: Khalin
Date Mon Jul 26 01:22:39 2010
To All Cliath Althainia Imms RP
Subject A vision from The Father of Creation, Lord Cliath
At first, his vision blurred.
And then, visions flooded him, calmly, but with purpose. Even still, he
wondered if he was experiencing an attack or worse-brain fever.
The first vision shown was of a much smaller Althainia:
His view out of the balcony changed. Althainia is only one small fountain
with a few hastily built houses around it.
The second vision came a few moments later:
Quickly things construct in front of his eyes, buildings being built, the
town becoming populated. There are countless workers moving between
buildings, finishing one then another.
Then he heard a noise and new why these visions were sent. His anxiety
quelled and a smile graced his lips.
The sound of a hammer striking an anvil echoes off in the distance.
The second vision came and went, leaving him a bit empty and his vision
cleared, the city back to it's normal state. He had witnessed in a few
moments the creation of the city from nothing to what it is today.
He turned and let the wind caress his face and then uttered his prayer,
humbled for not understanding his need to speak to his Lord before.
Almost immediately he heard the response, marveling the beauty in which his
Lord communicated.
The hammer echoed against the anvil again, this time words can be heard
within the ring. 'Why have you been silent in your prayers to me until now,
Novitiate? '
And there it was--the question he subconsciously dreaded. He tried to form
words that made sense but only achieved sounding like a babbling child
trying to explain a wrong- doing. He heard his Lord again.
The hammer struck the anvil again. This time the voice is clear, in his
head - calm, but stern. 'Do not be quiet. Creation happens each day, and
you should revel within it. '
Again... Another slew of apologies--followed by a vow to praise his
Father's name, and become the dedicated son. He hears his Lord's response:
'You will be watched. Show me your dedication and then you will be
rewarded. ' Then the hammer strikes a final, resounding time.
Khalin remains quiet for a few moments, in awe from the experience--moved.
He whispers, 'A fool am I--but no more. ' Turning and looking over the
balcony, viewing the city he has called his home since birth, he calls out
for All to hear:
'I praise my Lord Cliath, Father of all, an' pray tha' All c'n notice the
beauty o' his creations an' give praise as well. '
Writer: Py'nan
Date Mon Jul 26 08:37:46 2010
Writer: Daygan
Date Mon Jul 26 11:53:56 2010
To IMM All RP
Subject Mission to Icewall
Daygan sniffed the air as he entered the Wayfarer, the aroma of charred
wood rose into his nostrils. The place was a wreck, fire elementals
floating near scorch marks and spikes jutting up from the earth. Something
obviously had gone down here, something rather large from the looks of the
torn up floor. He walked amongst the turned over chairs and tables,
inspecting the room, looking for any clues that might provide useful. After
his run in with Aoko at the port and the repeated sightings of Kerialia on
Icewall it was time to start trying to figure out what Malachive's
underlings were up to out here. The ruin here made his choice easy, he
would go home and report.... Then make his way back to Icewall to figure
out just what the hell was going on in this barren place.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Mon Jul 26 15:26:14 2010
Writer: Daygan
Date Mon Jul 26 16:52:55 2010
To All IMM RP
Subject Mission to Icewall: Part 2
Daygan shook the snow off as he and Ianto entered the cave, his eyes
searching the entirety of the cavern slowly, as to not miss anything. He
began to unpack a few things, some tinder and flint for the fire and a small
piece of meat, this would do for the night. A days trekking through the
waist high snow and so far their efforts had turned up nothing. A few
Verminasian's about, but that was to be expected as they were after the same
goal. Tomorrow they would check the area to the southeast, perhaps the
forbidden forest as well, they had to find them if they were truly looking
for the abhorrant. If he rose, All of Algoron would suffer for it... He
would rally armies and numbers to Malachive's cause, a travesty that couldnt
be allowed to happen. Ianto's voice broke his chain of thoughts, "A wizard
about... And Lord Ogilvy... ". Daygan just nodded and kept his focus. He
was proud of his son for his willingness to come along, no whining, no
rebuttals, just a "yes sir" and "where are we going". Tomorrow he would
have him return home an report of their progress so far. It was going to be
another long day of trudging through blizzards and snow drifts, searching
frozen lakes for any signs that they might be in the right area. He wish he
had had the time to wait and see Gwendalen first, perhaps he would have had
an easier time of focusing now if he had gotten to say goodbye, but it was
not to be. Now he could only hope that this mission ended soon, he had the
love of his life to get home to and marry.
Writer: Emmyth
Date Mon Jul 26 18:16:24 2010
Writer: Emmyth
Date Mon Jul 26 18:58:59 2010
Writer: Py'nan
Date Mon Jul 26 19:13:59 2010
Writer: Lavinah
Date Mon Jul 26 19:19:46 2010
To All ( religion rp immortal dragoth )
Subject The Library, Again II
Lavinah had never, in All her years, wanted to know what obscene sexual
rituals some dwarves performed to honor Cliath. Yet, now she couldn't
forget it. This was but one price she paid in researching in this library
of truths, for his Majesty.
Nor had she wished to know about the first craftsman to forge arcanium
armors, or where he was buried, of how the anvil that the craftsman used was
made, what mountain it's ore was taken from, and how hot the flames needed
to be. It was All useless.
Well, not All - that was not entirely true. Knowing where he was buried
proved mildly useful. Lavinah would, years later, defile the grave just
because she wandered across the place by chance and it gave her a mild
satisfaction in doing so.
Still, any fact she found remotely useful was hidden between countless books
detailing everything and anything but what she wanted to know. This was how
the library worked, maddeningly frustrating, with so much promise, just like
finding it in the first place.
The balanxi recorded everything, every detail, every truth. There were no
opinions to be found here, just facts. And while that, in many ways, was a
welcome sign, it made the reading terribly boring. There was no flair to
the language, nothing to interrupt the monotony of fact after fact after
fact.
When Cardinal Taba arrived, also at the King's direction, it was a welcome
relief for All of about an hour. Quickly it because apparent that she, too,
was just as frustrated in the vastness of the place, the sheer boredom of
the work. The fact that she was so completely quiet just made it worse.
Lavinah stretched, then returned the latest stack of books to their spot in
the shelves then gathered another selection. She skipped things that were
clearly not relevant, such as New Thalos' construction or a history of
wedding ring design, but reviewed every unmarked tome that made up the
majority of what was stored here.
Still, she had been here over a week, and had barely made even a dent in the
first of countless shelves in the Dermiurgic Arts wing.
Writer: Emmyth
Date Mon Jul 26 19:35:14 2010
Writer: Sivaster
Date Mon Jul 26 20:37:01 2010
Writer: Ulmur
Date Tue Jul 27 01:32:10 2010
Writer: Akxo
Date Tue Jul 27 02:56:51 2010
To All Thaxanos Wargar Kroft ( Religion Imm Cliath )
Subject Exercises in Training : I The Enemy
Exercises in Training : I : The Enemy
We were All created by the Father in His Wisdom.
The words echoed in his mind as Akxo delivered slash after slash to his
gnomish opponent. The gnomes were pests but no longer required his full
attention; a rather peculiar training partner took his focus.
A goblin from Darkonin. Akxo had realized the goblin had joined his party
moments before, keeping a wary eye. The warrior in between them thought
nothing of the tension, spending his effort on the gnomes.
The goblin and dwarf stared back and forth. Eventually Akxo came to a
decision; this would be a learning experience. With a cautious eye cast
towards the goblin, a lesson in tactics and behavior was attained.
The unlikely party did not last long, and the goblin and dwarf were split
before either had time to draw the ire of the other. A rather peaceful
affair, driven by the will to advance and to grow.
We were All created by the Father in His Wisdom.
Yes, even creatures that reek of ill hygiene, groups of which delight in the
disposal of waste. May their manure breath fresh life into any soil with
which it might contact.
Akxo felt his true purpose was to gauge the relative threat of the goblin to
what was undoubtedly his most dangerous opponent. Across the lands it
seemed more and more creatures were being swayed into the grasps of
Malachive and his precocious harem. A small group yet, but one backed by
power that threatens the entirety of Algoron, a power that must be stopped.
Too many of the goblin, ogre, and troll-kind had served Malachive in the
past, and some still in the present. As the goblin disappeared from sight,
Akxo made a mental note to take the judge from Darkonin up on her offer for
dialogue. For even in ones enemies can the true patron see blessings by
provoking creation.
Writer: Akxo
Date Tue Jul 27 03:43:57 2010
To All Thaxanos Wargar Kroft ( Religion Imm Cliath )
Subject Exercises in Training : II : Attrition
The sweat was oozing from his brow, yet clinging to every pore. The
drawbacks of having a massive assortment of hair in a factory with heat
issues. Akxo took a momentary break to lean upon his mithril sword, heaving
with deep breaths. As he supported his weight with the weapon, he gazed
upon its smooth form, barely a nick detectable. The reverie flashed him
away from his toasted surroundings.
Akxo always found it pleasurable to receive a bounty of crafted equipment.
When allowed, he would watch enraptured as these masters of fine labor
constructed battleready armor out of bundles of cloth, or heaps of metal.
In his case of course the armor was cloth, and a fine set of nightshade had
he purchased. It was serving him very well, spellcrafted with exquisite
gems from the lovely Betha. He would need to pass it on to another dwarf, a
deserving recipient, for silksteel awaited him in the depths of the Thaxanos
bank.
Back into the factory a blizzard seeped forth from the sky, blanketing Akxo
and his air elemental in snow. To them, it felt cool and relaxing. For the
gnomes it was a burning sensation with a speedy realization of frostbite.
This is the way it had been for many days, weeks, months? A personal war of
attrition, a quest to visit his guildmaster for the very last time, to know
that there was nothing more they could truly teach him.
For life is best experienced in first person. Not through story or
imagination, not gimic nor farce. These All have their places in the world,
but there is no substitute for witnessing the awes of creation firsthand.
We were born with the ability to sense in so many different ways as a
blessing, as an encouragement to explore.
And yet in life there is also repetition. Creation that yearns but often
fails to be dynamic. But this is both physical and mental training, the
adaptation to individual battle, the blooming of self-reliance. And
finally, as the repetition grew to an end, Akxo knew that part of him would
miss it.
But the real journeys were now beginning. Paths that would reveal the
previous as mere building blocks. A stalwart foundation had been laid, and
it would be up to Akxo to rise to his potential and achieve a service deemed
useful to Blessed Lord Cliath and the Mountain Home.
Writer: Zayin
Date Tue Jul 27 10:24:00 2010
Writer: Sielei
Date Tue Jul 27 11:58:43 2010
To All Kingdom Clan ( Malachive Scorn Admin Imm )
Subject Expedition Flight
She gave the priestess a nod and quickly began writing. She liked
writing. It was a short note with no name attached. Opening the cage she
rolled the paper and put it inside the leather cylinder around the hawk's
neck. The she gave the priestess another nod.
Kerialia squatted down in front of the hawk and spoke a name three times.
The hawk flew. She smiled and waved to the priestess then began to change
form. The owl. And she followed the hawk.
Flying was fun. And she wasn't much use with a frozen lake. It bothered
her anyway. There was little life around the lake and few spirits. The
water was worse. She was blind at times when she looked around. So few
gold or red souls to light the way. Something here was killing them.
The hawk quickly lost her. It was much faster. She didn't care.
The swooped and dove as an owl. Through trees and up into clouds. Then
over the ocean. The was pretty sure the man the hawk was sent to was on
Arkane. She'd get there eventually. Maybe she'd poop on him. Probably not
because he could turn her into a fried owl. But she loved that she could.
She loved that she had just one rule. Do what you want. That was nice.
Then she decided to sit in the forest up in a tree and watch people kill
each other. For a while before she flew back to Icewall. When she was
alone she would practice what she saw.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Tue Jul 27 13:06:49 2010
Writer: Hitoya
Date Tue Jul 27 14:40:25 2010
Writer: Kerialia
Date Tue Jul 27 14:56:19 2010
To All Kingdom Clan ( Malachive Scorn Admin Roleplay Imm )
Subject Expedition Part 5
The crackling of the gateway behind her seemed to be a constant
companion. She never stood anywhere for any length of time anymore without
her escape route open. On the plus side, it made it near impossible to be
captured. On the negative side, she was exceedingly drained of energy. She
hadn't slept in days. Since the night at the inn.
On the positive side, the magi from the black tower, a stout little dwarf
had brought a few friends with him. It was inspiring to watch. The power
the mages could wield. The power they would wield if they publicly
denounced Drakkara. However, she would not kick a gift horse in the mouth.
They stood in a circle around the ice, jets of fire spurting from their
hands, burning through the Ice. They'd been working for a few hours now.
Working carefully to weave enchantments around the ice every foot or so,
keeping it from freezing over when they finish.
"Help me! " suddenly screamed into her ears. Kerialia's head rose,
immediately alert once more.
"Keri! Help me! It's Aoko! " flew into her mind once more.
She knew her friend was on Icewall, searching for something as they were. A
cry like that became clear she was under attack. She nodded to Jindr,
instructing him to keep everyone working before she stretched the gateway
open, and stepped through it, immediately opening another behind her as she
began to mutter the words of summoning.
Aoko flicked into view momentarily, but disappeared, a single yellow orchid
falling to the ground as the spell failed with Aoko having been shoved
through a nexus on the other end. She growled as she walked forward,
picking up the small orchid and delicately placing it within a pocket inside
of her robes. She angrily waved her hand, the gateway opening again as she
stepped through, before greating another and arriving back at the lake. A
new gateway opening behind her. She was exhausted, barely able to stand,
but she was now even more determined to succeed.
Writer: Kerialia
Date Tue Jul 27 14:58:47 2010
To All Kingdom Clan ( Malachive Scorn Immortal Roleplay Admin )
Subject Expedition Part 6
Kerialia nodded to Sielei finally transferring the maintaining of the
gateway to her as she went to take her rest. She slept for the first night
in days, though it was not very relaxing, but it did recover her strength.
She knew several facts as of now.
The first was that Aoko was captured. Kerialia did not believe that
Enduriel's pet possessed the courage and strength to keep silent, so she was
certain that their plans on Icewall would be compromised shortly.
The second was that she knew after Wayfarer's, eventually the Dark Pantheon
would send out detachments, which mean she needed to work quickly. She was
not terribly concerned with being found, she was raised in the wilderness
and became a master of her craft while being in the ranger's guild. She
could make evaporating into thin air look like a cheap magic trick if she
were in the woods.
However, knowing that a project on this stage would be difficult to hide, it
meant she needed to work quickly. The shaman had repeatedly sensed that
life in this lake had been killed off. She could not see the spirits of
even the fish within the lake. That was a bit of good news. But however
isolated and distant this lake was, staying at it for any period of time in
the open like this was dangerous. Regardless of the defenses they'd made to
keep it safe.
She groaned to herself as she rolled off the cot she had brought to sleep
in, pulling on her robes, and adjusting her mask she set off, determined.
She set out from the tent, the flaps waving in the wind as she emerged.
Kerialia glanced at the snow and held her hands out in front of her, the
snow moving, almost bubbling as a creature began to form. She checked her
waist, nodding as she had several potions of water breathing. The creature
began to rise, dripping and spilling water as it moved, a water elemental.
As it formed Kerialia walked to the lake where the mages had burned the hole
into the Ice.
"We begin our search tonight!!! " she yelled to the camp, nodding to the
mage as he began water breathing some yinnish prisoners, before pushing them
one by one into the lake, lead balls attached to their ankles to provide the
spiritual light for the shaman to search.
She herself waved her hand to the elemental as she drank a potion. The
elemental stretched and grabbed at her, pulling it within herself, keeping
her body temperature warm as it dove into the lake.
The search began.
Writer: Fastia
Date Tue Jul 27 18:32:56 2010
To All Imm RP Religion Kwainin Enduriel Tief New_Thalos
Subject Twilight
The sun was setting now, and the servants at the estate began to flitter
around to light candles before the last of the natural light had fled the
rooms.
There was no noise now - just the rustling of her long train as it dragged
across the floor behind her, her feet levitating some inches off the ground
as she floated towards the western windows.
It was in these last few moments of sunlight that Algoron looked as if it
might be on the brink of apocalypse. The colors that spurted out from the
horizon were indescribable - shades of purple, red, and orange that screamed
for mercy as the darkness began to swallow them.
Perhaps twilight was the perfect way to describe balance. It wasn't bright
- no sun could be found - and yet it wasn't dark yet, either. Twilight
seemed to be the place where Fastia felt most safe. As dusk set in, those
screaming colors would meet a silent grave only to re-emerge the next day.
It was beautiful to her.
As the last of the light left the scene outside her window, the candles
offered pale glows around the room. Before the knock at the door came, she
could hear with her elven ears the footsteps that were coming down the
hallway.
'Enter, ' she commanded, though her back remained towards the room's entry.
She was expecting him.
'Your eminence, ' he greeted, and she could hear the crease in his leathered
armor as he bowed, though still she did not afford him the graciousness of
her eyes. '... He was alone again today, ' he continued, and the sound of
rustling parchment was heard. 'First in the morning hours, then again at
midday. He is quick through the streets. I don't see anyone else on his
land but I can't tell any more from the outskirts where you've placed my
post. '
She nodded, drawing her hands behind her back. 'The Godchild would not
invest himself in a servant that would leave a trail. Keep watching him,
though. Surely he's bound to slip up - and what better place, than right in
our backyard? '
'Yes, your eminence. I shall return at first light. '
Fastia turned her head slightly, her profile now visible only as a shadow
cast from a nearby candle. 'The Godchild must die. You know this.
Consider your work for me to be pious employment. '
The man nodded and bowed his acceptance, 'Of course, your eminence.
Enduriel is his link to this realm. I shall thwart him as best I can. '
Fastia smiled, and the flicker of the candle illuminated her white teeth
until they were glistening. 'Kwainin be with you. '
Writer: Py'nan
Date Tue Jul 27 20:55:26 2010
Writer: Py'nan
Date Tue Jul 27 21:20:37 2010
Writer: Aoko
Date Tue Jul 27 21:56:35 2010
Writer: Aricka
Date Tue Jul 27 22:05:15 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Tue Jul 27 22:22:49 2010
Writer: Dalaban
Date Tue Jul 27 23:23:25 2010
To Malachive Admin Scorn Aoko Dalaban Enduriel All ( RP Religion )
Subject Savior in Stasis: Prologue - Dalaban
Dalaban sat there smugly looking at the monk, tapping his finger on the
table.
Aoko glanced up hesitantly and then inquired, 'Will you show me what I need,
to survive?. '
Dalaban leaned in over the table and whispered, 'I will show you because you
need to know, ' a slight sneer appearing across his mouth, the closest thing
to a smile ever seen from him.
He began to instruct her on several means of finding water and food on the
tundra. Dalaban explained various plant life that might be found and
consumed, even on the barren tundra.
She glanced up at him a question pursing her lips, 'How will I find water
and how will I stay warm? ' she asked.
He sneered at her and explained, 'Do not worry, nature will provide All you
need, ' and he began to produce a white hooded fur cloak from his backpack,
placing it on the table in front of her. He then withdrew some brown bear
skin boots and and seal skin gloves from his backpack, placing them on the
table as well. He exclaimed, 'This is how you will stay warm. Do you know
how to build a simple fire? '
Aoko nodded slowly in reply.
He glared at her, 'Do you know how to make a fire in the cold, without wood?
'
The monk cringed away from his stare.
He began to show her how to shelter a fire from the biting cold and began to
explain the way in which to make a fire, 'You must collect the frozen dung
of animals that eat plants and any wood you can find. It can be used to
create a small fire to warm you and melt the snow to make water you can
drink. You must find shelter where you can, a cave, a tree or anything that
provides cover. ' He nodded at the monk, a sneer spreading across his face,
'You must also kill to survive. ' He explained the methods used to stalk
and hunt animals and the means with which to set small snares and traps to
capture them. Then he produced the body of a small squirrel from his
backpack, his lip curling in his typical snarl and begin to cover the cuts
required to properly skin and gut an animal to recover the meat by which she
might survive.
The two spent hours in the Artreri estate, covering the essentials with out
overloading the monk's mind with new information. Dalaban looked up at her,
blood covering his hands. Aoko leaned in closer, watching closely what he
was doing, intent on survival though her skin clearly paling at the sight of
blood.
The druid stared into her face, 'You must do this, for All of us. '
Aoko simply nodded solemnly, closing her eyes.
Writer: Lavinah
Date Wed Jul 28 00:03:03 2010
To All ( religion rp immortal dragoth )
Subject The Library, Again III
Finally, a bit of good news.
No, Lavinah hadn't found a thing of note, except a brief description of
Raije's Axe. But his Majesty Zayin informed her that Aoko had been captured
and yielded information that would narrow her search.
Aoko, of course, was one of Enduriel's lovers, perhaps even his primary one.
That provided leverage and, after what Zayin had done with the previous
prisoners, Lavinah was certain that eventually, Zayin would get what he
wanted.
So, Lavinah knew what to look for. Returning the books she had by her side
to their places, she moved to the shelves of Military History.
Of course, there was that gnawing feeling in the back of her head that this
was simply too easy. She listened well to the rumours of the land, and she
knew that for everything Enduriel was, he was a smart man. Was he smarter
than Zayin? She doubted it. But still...
There were countless things that Lavinah had sitting in her workshope that
could be used to torture Aoko, or worse. Scars were only the end, the badge
one carried with them the rest of the days. How those scars were inflicted,
and how many were unseen, in the mind or the soul, that is what fascinated
Lavinah. And she was disappointed that Zayin hadn't requested her aide with
the prisoner.
She assumed he wished her here, that Zayin believe her work here was worth
more that what usefulness she could provide interrogating a prisoner. It
was simply less fun.
She sighed as she collected twelve books that looked promising: weaponry and
tales of historic warriors. She was looking for a weapon, and there were
countless books for her to review. Fortunately, her patience was holding
and she thanked her Lord for that. There was little else she could pray for
besides luck.
Writer: Tribul
Date Wed Jul 28 07:49:48 2010
Writer: Daygan
Date Wed Jul 28 08:44:31 2010
To All Imm RP
Subject Mission to Icewall: Part 3
Time to seemed to slow as Zayin's words reached him, "I have captured
your grandaughter..." . Without even thinking Daygan grabbed his sais and
headed towards Verminasia, Kyrlynn yelling in his ears to think about what
he was doing the whole time. He snuck past the first couple of guards but
that was as far as he made it, a group met him near the entrance and no
matter how many the assassin killed, more showed up to replace them.
Finally, near exhaustion he fled and returned home to regroup. IF that way
was a dead end... Then maybe... "Enduriel, you know Zayin has Aoko?" "I
do..... If you want to help her, then help -me-." The whole time Zayin
was speaking in his other ear, "Find him... I dont want to do this, but if
you want to save her then bring me Enduriel. " Daygan froze in his tracks
on Icewall, his mind racing in so many directions at once... Could he
really find Enduriel, Verminasia had been trying for weeks and failed.
Could he find the lake Enduriel was after... He'd grown up on Icewall,
there were literally hundreds of frozen lakes. His mind whirling as he
weighed his options, Kyrlynn's voice broke through "What are you going to do
Daygan, you cant just save her, she's one of Malacahive's followers." He
knew this fact already, but it didnt matter anymore. He had tried to be
cold, he had written her off as a lost cause, but in the end she was family,
and he couldn't bear the thought of her in so much pain in those dungeons...
Those dungeons he himself had spent near to a year in, he -knew- what went
on there. So what the hell was he going to do now? He remained frozen in
place as snowflakes fell All around him... Save the girl?... Or find the
beast?
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jul 28 09:30:38 2010
Writer: Jindr
Date Wed Jul 28 09:36:56 2010
To All ( Malachive Scorn Admin Roleplay Imm )
Subject Icewall Part I
Jindr woke in the Wayfarer's Inn, he could sense that Kerialia needed
him. As he woke he noticed two others with them, ones he knew to be the
Count and Countess of Abaddon. A lucky day for him, he's always wanted to
destroy those that managed to Kingdom of the Damned.
Jindr asked Kerialia which of the two he got to kill first, and much to his
pleasure Sereb offered his body. The two squared off, exchanging parries
and minor blows. The fight was a stalemate in most regards. Both warriors
had their respective priestess in their corner, ready to tend the wounds of
the fallen but then things changed.
In the corner of his eyes Jindr say more people enter the room, before long
it was nearly 12 against 2. Jindr only took his eyes off Sereb for a split
second, but it was enough for Sereb to land a lucky blow on Jindr's leg.
Jindr knew, if he managed to escape, he would not make it very far and
certainly not very fast.
Many of the people in the rooms tried to talk Jindr into surrendering, and
spending the remainder of his life in a cell. The idea did not even cross
his mind. Jindr had spent his entire life being hated and alone, prison
would be no different. In Jindr's mind, death was more preferable. If he
was going to die he would do so as a Martyr.
The forces of evil began to close in on him and his priestess. Jindr was
preparing to take as many of them out with him as he could, but suddenly
there was a large earthquake. Everyone fell to their feet except Kerialia,
she stood strong and walked out the exit as if she was gliding. He could
hear her in his ear, she told him to make for the exit and run as far as he
can.
Jindr did as told, he struggled back to his feet with his injured leg and
made his way out into the snow. Once he got far enough away, he teleported
to safety. Jindr knew if he tried to run anywhere, the blood from his leg
would lead the forces of Darkness to him.
After a day or so, Kerialia was contacted and she met with Jindr to heal his
wounds. The priestess brought with her a map and pointed on it, asking if
Jindr knew the way to this location. Being that it was a map of Icewall, he
knew it very well. She told him to meet there for new orders. With that
she disappeared and he began to make his trek to the spot.
Writer: Jindr
Date Wed Jul 28 09:58:21 2010
To All ( Malachive Scorn Admin Roleplay Imm )
Subject Icewall Part II
Jindr arrived by the lake, he knew exactly what they were looking for.
Out of the shadows Kerialia appeared. She explained to him that she had a
couple of Claveists that were going to melt the outer layers of the ice and
then they would explore the depths. Jindr, over confident in his abilities,
said he could easily stand the well below freezing temperatures of the
water. Kerialia shook her head and told him to go to the Yaenni Village and
to find 'volunteers' to explore the depths. Jindr smirked slightly and left
the lake.
When he arrived at the village, he was met with mixed reactions. Some of
the Yinn knew who he was, some did not. Some of them knew of his past with
the Slayers, but only a select few cowered as they knew what he was involved
with now. The gate guard looked at Jindr and said, 'Outsider, what is your
business here? '
Jindr looked back at him and said, 'I am looking for volunteers for a
mission of great importance, bring me your stronger soldiers now. '
The guard laughed and waved a dismissive hand to Jindr. But before the
guard had a chance to speak again, Jindr's lance had been run through his
poor excuse for armor and into his chest. Jindr walked through the gates
and yelled for everyone to hear him, 'Any of you who think you are strong,
will be coming with me. I am taking Men, Women, Children, and anyone that
will help me in finding what I seek. '
A few more of the village guard were here by now. Most of them were very
young though, not yet seasoned fighters so they looked at Jindr with
frightened eyes. Jindr did not move when he saw the boys in armor, he just
continued to yell, 'Unless you wish to die, you will come with me. '
A soft voice could be heard coming from one of the huts, 'But what chances
do we have of returning alive if we go with you. '
Jindr turned his back to the guards as looked about for the voice. Not
finding it he commented loudly, 'You have the option to stay or die, or go
with me. Sure you might die, but if you are lucky you might not. '
Reluctantly people began to line up in front of Jindr. He turned to one of
the boys in armor and said, 'I need restraints, I can't have any of you
running away now. '
Once he had them bound, he began to lead them All back to Kerialia. She
will likely not be expecting this many 'volunteers' but she will certainly
be pleased with the sheer numbers Jindr can command.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jul 28 10:49:18 2010
Writer: Zayin
Date Wed Jul 28 11:14:00 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Wed Jul 28 11:37:21 2010
Writer: Niatus
Date Wed Jul 28 12:40:31 2010
Writer: Qairas
Date Wed Jul 28 13:56:27 2010
To All Abaddon Imm ( Fatale ) Malucaar
Subject Malucaar, Master Midnight and a lot of Half Elven blood
The nightshade circled his target. They have been locked in combat for a
while now, but the beast was finally worn down. One precise move and the
fight is over. With a quick decoy strike, the half elf was already behind
the beast, slicing at the tender hind muscle. The sasquatch fell, and the
half elf brutally slit his throat with his flaming dagger. In the same
fluid motion, the weapons were returned to their sheathes and the shade was
already back in the shadows.
That is when the dragon addressed him. He was needed in Icewall, and told
to bring a shovel.
He raced to the port, carrying as many shovels as he could. On his arrival,
a blur of movement surprised him, and he was transported to the dragon's
lair, his boot deep in wet mud and dust. However, that was nothing. Before
him, aside from a gigantic red dragon, was Master Midnight, an Avatar of
Fatale. The half elf stood stunned for a moment until a whiff from the
Dragon's nostrils sent the smell of sulfur towards him.
"He will need them cleaned as he struggles to reach them." Said the dragon.
The half elf nodded twice quickly, as he always does, and removed his shirt,
carefully buffing the enormous claws of the dragon. Master Midnight began
his questioning then, asking the shade where he originated from.
The elf, lightly dancing between staying alive, cleaning a dragon's claw and
answering his God's Avatar's questions, responded quickly and with his usual
charisma. The dragon seemed pleased, lowering his claw, obvlivious to the
Half elf's position, sending the shade rolling backwards to avoid an u
fortunate death.
"He will pick up the sshovel and clear him an adequate space in the corner.
He tiress of laying in the mud." Came the roaring voice of the dragon. The
half elf obliged quickly, knowing that this back breaking job is just
another test, and failure in it means death. He used his shovel to clear a
pit, making it large enough to fit the gigantic dragon. The dragon seemed
pleased, and finally, to complete the tests, an exchange of gifts to Fatale
was in order. The dragon poured his endless hoard of gold to the floor,
awaiting the elf's sacrifice. Qairas draw his ceremoniel dagger and abused
his own forearm, slicing at his main veins. Thick blood ran down the gold.
Appearntly, that was enough, and with a nod, Master Midnight and the Half
elf were back in Abaddon. Feeling the loss of blood overcoming him, but
refusing to pass the opprtunity, the half elf bandaged himself and asked
Master Midnight: I have failed, haven't I?" - The reply came quickly, "How
does one measure failure? You are alive, are you not?
Understanding dawned on the half elf. He has passed Fatale's test. He will
live to serve him another day. Master Midnight left the elf with a message
to bring to the Count and Abaddon and left as he appeared, leaving the shade
to ponder over his faith and Abaddon's.
Writer: Datai
Date Wed Jul 28 14:55:15 2010
Writer: Dxutim
Date Wed Jul 28 15:08:18 2010
To All Malucaar Imm ( RP )
Subject Egg Napping
The trail lead into an incredibly small crevice within the mountain side.
Malucaar and Dxutim both looked at eachother in thought. Malucaar's
incredibly large wings became infinitely smaller tucked against his body as
he scraped, and pushed his way into the mountainside crevice. Dxutim
smirked, and uttered a short spell rendering his body translucent. Dxutim
waited until he no longer saw Malucaar's tail inside the trail, and made his
way through with little effort.
The Dragon and the minotaur found themselves literally inside the mountain,
a cavern that made the entrance look like a speck of light with its sheer
size. Malucaar raised his snout into the air, sniffing the damp cavern air
in an attempt to find what the two had come looking for. Dxutim followed
closely behind the Great Red Dragon until they came upon a nest. Inside
this nest was an egg. A large, hard, steel egg.
An immense cone of fire formed over Dxutim's head as he uttered his arcane
spells, the Steel egg was soon engulfed in these sphere of fire. Before the
flames died down, Malucaar's large head lowered down and his jaw opened.
Malucaar swept the egg up from the nest inside the bottom of his mouth, they
had what they came for and the minotaur knew they had to leave swiftly. A
shimmering gate opened up from the ground as Dxutim drawed the power from
the warpstone he held. The two were gone from the Steel dragon's lair as
quickly as they entered, with something extra...
To be continued....
Writer: Huguette
Date Wed Jul 28 16:11:32 2010
To All imm religion rp devion
Subject An Icy Trek - Part One
Huguette walked down the line of her ladies, eyeing them from head to
toe. She had ridden to their post with great haste, calling the women out
under the guise of a surprise examination. She had called numerous
inspections since given control of the axe unit under King Itamar, and she
did indeed examine them, although she knew with pride their equipment would
be in fantastic shape. Huguette wasn't looking for equipment this time,
however, although her ladies wouldn't know that. Instead, she peered at the
legs of the women, mentally noting the five hairiest.
Huguette assembled the team that eve around a separate campfire, its
flickering flame illuminating the faces of two wemics, a couple of yinn, a
minotaur, and an uncommonly burly dark dwarf. Huguette tapped a keg then
sat atop it, her feet braced on either side. She smiled congenially to all
the ladies, allowing them to fill their glasses, before she began to speak.
"I have a special mission, one that will detach you from the rest of the
unit. It would be a personal favor for me and the kingdom, and one that I will
of course, pay very well for." Huguette threw five bags laden with gold down
to the ground. "We seek the Deathmeere, and we seek it on Icewall. It will be
cold, long, and to be perfectly straightforward, quite possibly for naught."
Huguette's own misgivings about the reality of the Deathmeere's being located
on Icewall flashed across her face, before she shrugged and resumed speaking.
"You'll be working in the Forbidden Forest with local yokels who will be
brash and untrained. As well, you will not be under your own command, but
accept orders from General Baalzrom unless I should send special orders
otherwise. The primary responsibilities will be digging and running scouting
errands." Huguette sighed. "It will not be easy work, ladies, but if you
are willing to accept these terms you may take the gold now and leave
immediately to reach the camp by morning."
Huguette looked about the circle, some consenting immediately, some emitting
grunts of acceptance, and the dark dwarf looking contemplative before finally
nodding. Huguette smiled broadly. "Dress warmly, ladies." Huguette hopped
off of the barrel and began the trek back to Verminasia.
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Wed Jul 28 21:29:41 2010
To All Zandreya ( RP IMM )
Subject Birds of a feather (Part 1)
It was a day much like any other, the sun sat high in the sky, it's
warming rays kissing the land below - and for once, Kaelowyth was outside to
enjoy it. The last few weeks had been trying, as the elf busily flitted
about, talking to one person or another for hours on end, his new-found
quest having completely taken over his list of priorities. One view simply
wasn't enough, nor two - he simply had to talk to more people.
And so it had gone, he spoke with clergy and with firstborns, leaders and
minions. The elf had gained a new appreciation for just how numerous
Zandreya's gifts were. The thought warmed his heart, for while he had known
Her blessings before, he saw how easily it was to use them selfishly. It
was All too easy to forget how one recieved those powers, or who might
easily take them away. Now he had All the time in the world to use his
gifts for the benefit of All Her children, for the benefit of the world at
large.
Heaving a sigh of happiness, the elf stretches out a bit more on the patch
of grass he claimed as his for the moment, his eyes closing briefly as he
pictures the tranquil scene around him, trying to capture it for future
musings, his ears taking in the faint chirping of the birds and the
chatterings of small woodland creatures. Beauty could exist anywhere, and
if one could simply relax and let it come to them, so could serenity.
Serenity, however, can also be suddenly and violently taken away. Just as
Kaelowyth realizes as something airy and ticklish teases at his face. The
elf's eyes snap open and with a scrambling motion, he sits up, puffing and
huffing as his hands move to brush whatever it is, off of his face. As his
senses recover, he looks down to see what he now holds in his right hand - a
single feather, it's plumage a mixture of blue and black.
A ragged sigh escapes him as he realizes it for what it is, his mood
instantly shifting from good to bad. His heart aches as a soft breeze
catches the feather, causing it to spin and twirl in his grasp, the plume
seeming almost as if to mock him. A constant reminder that even with all
his efforts - it simply will not be enough. An idea cannot easily be
accepted, nor can the person bearing that idea. How much dedication will it
take? Kaelowyth has to wonder at his motives, for truly he cannot pretend
as if he came to the church with an innocent and clean slate.
Love, revenge, altruism - All disparate and yet somehow brought together in
a desire for change. Moving to stand up, the elf clenches his fist about
the feather, stuffing it into his pack almost angrily, when he notices that
there is something there - a duplicate plume. In an instant the anger and
sadness is gone, the elf sinking to his knees once more as he pulls forth
the second feather, holding both of them to the air as his eyes moisten.
"So be it."
Writer: Baalzrom
Date Wed Jul 28 22:07:08 2010
To All Verminasia Abaddon Darkonin ( IMM RP )
Subject A Broken Ice Field.
He stared across the broken ice fields, his breath warm and escaping through
the embraces of his neckpiece. Before him was a small encampment, bridged
and filled with small tents, lanterns and supplies. The workers were foreign,
local to this forest and the icy dangers it presented. A better use of manpower
than Verminasia's own Death Watch, and a pretty coin well spent.
He gazed on, through the thick mists of snow and fog, content that the workers
were shovel in hand and would call if anything warranted attention. The Baroness
had promised additional aid, a small force from her "Buxom Brawlers", as she
called it. He chuckled at the thought. He'd vaguely heard of these female
axe-fighters, both beautiful and frightening, strong and cruel, but nonetheless
cunning and loyal to the Baroness and the Master's kingdom. They would be a
welcome addition. The Enduriel Artreri had been last seen here, searching, for
what could only assume was a clue to this Deathmeere's frozen whereabouts.
Needless to say, his success would be unacceptable.
He folded his arms, taking periodic glances into the further reaches of his
vision, searching for signs of the enemy. None, of course. The Malachivites
would not be foolish enough to walk into such a 'noisy' camp. And his men,
however skilled or well-concealed, would be unlikely to make any captures in
this snow-bitten wasteland. So he used them in guard positions, uniformly
placed along the inner camp and outer rims. A number of scouts and riders
scoured the snow and forest, and would return periodically with reports of
nothingness. A shame, he thought. It would have been more his territory to
meet his enemy face-on and be done with the damned thing.
He remained in his overseers posture as the familiar crackle of a gateway
opened behind him. The scent of sandalwood and jasmine, of fleshly desires
and a snake's venom, carried to his nose.
"Duchess," he said, turning his head to meet her gaze, his eyes tracing down
her form momentarily. She was a beautiful creature, a resigned Queen, in fact,
though he'd never thought to ask why.
"General," she stated, her fingers daintily pressing on his shoulder in
greeting. She steps forward, taking in the bitter cold and harsh winds before
turning. "You'll be happy to know.." she lingers on the sentence, "the King
has ordered a stop to this operation." A penned missive, tightly bound and
with a royal seal, answers the wicked twitch of his brow.
It takes but a moment to unfurl the parchment and scour its contents.
"HAAALLT!"
Writer: Enduriel
Date Wed Jul 28 23:46:23 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Thu Jul 29 02:08:48 2010
Writer: Normani
Date Thu Jul 29 03:55:22 2010
To All Arkane Althainia Thaxanos Wargar Imm ( RP )
Subject "Nightmare's Revisited"
Pale moonlight filters through a simple window as Normani paces about
this room. This would be yet another night he faces without sleep, and
without solution. His eyepatch rest upon the nightstand, leaving his left
socket barren. He began to pace a bit faster, tension gripping his
thoughts. Another night had been laid to waste at the hands of an eccentric
and macabre nightmare. He continued to pace about the room for another five
minutes, finally resting upon his bedside in anguish. He chewed over the
present images in his head, whispering to himself...
'Wot' is wrong wit' mae? Ah dun' undastand why ma dreams are 'aunted.. '
'If'n these messages were clear... Ah woul' try te do as Ah'm asked... '
Sadly, this night wouldn't yield any answers for Normani. No, this night
would be the exact opposite...
A few hours passed, and nothing came to him. His mind now fixed upon a
single memory.. Possibly the one that haunts his dreams.
------
A large, elegant tree sprawls with life in this region. A single well sits
at the base of it's trunk as Normani steps closer in triumph. He scans the
area in skepticism, his left hand rest firmly upon his sword. After he has
had his fill of the surroundings, he steps closer to the well.
'Ah finallae found et.. The Well of Ur.. Ma searchin' is now over. '
He sighed in relief, his eyes looking down the well's shaft in happiness.
The wellwater ripples with divine intent, catching Normani's eye as a voice
overtakes the area.
'Dwarf... Listen carefully, if you are here to drink from this well.. You
must provide a worthy offering. '
'Paymen'? Hrm... Ah dun' 'ave much gold sir... '
'Money is of no importiance to me. I demand something hefty, something you
cannot aquire again. '
'Ah see... Wot' kin' ah give ye.. Hrm. '
Normani stepped away from the well, assesing what he could possibly give the
well. Minutes flew by, and finally Normani stepped back over to the well.
He now had figured out what he would give the well. He spoke softly down to
the water, drawing his sword from his belt.
'Ah've go' payment fer ya.. 'ope ye find et worthae, cuz this is going te
hurt... '
The wellwater rippled again, but Normani took no notice as be drew his sword
closer to his eye. A loud yell filled the Glade... And a single splash
erupted within the well.
Writer: Enduriel
Date Thu Jul 29 04:12:43 2010
Writer: Qairas
Date Thu Jul 29 09:37:46 2010
To All Abaddon Malucaar Imm ( Fatale )
Subject An Innocent Game - I
The half elf sat with his back against the cold wall, leaning his head
backwards. He needed to clear his mind from the week's events. Slowly,
using tribal techniques, he controlled his breathing and relaxed.
The half elf sat with his back against the cold wall, leaning his head
backwards. He needed to clear his mind from the week's events. Slowly,
using tribal techniques, he controlled his breathing and relaxed. The cards
were old, aging almost a decade, but the intricate paintings seemed...
Alive. They were a gift from his mother, a shaman in a wild elven tribe.
At least, before she was captured by the humans.
He shuffled them and withdraw a card, and with each card, his mind raced,
painting a picture.
*drip*
King of Diamonds - Sereb Trucido - The Count of Abaddon. Sereb was the
reason Qairas made Abaddon his home, eventually. A chance encounter with a
child named Emmyth led him to speak to Madilyn about Abaddon, but Sereb's
charisma and the uncanny way they both resembled each other in words and
actions made the shade feel at home.
He carefully placed the card to his right and reshuffled his deck.
*drip*
Prince of Diamonds - Aleksandra Trucido - Sereb and Madilyn's daughter, the
un-named princess, sort of speak. Aleksandra was too young to be part of
the game of power, but Qairas knew she had a role to play and his instincts
knew what a great player she would be. With a sharp mind and a witty
tongue, Aleksandra will make her mark on Abaddon. One way or the other.
He wondered for a minute and placed the card close to him, reshuffling his
deck.
*drip*
Ace of Clubs - Malucaar - The Great Red dragon of Fatale - A chance
encounter with Malucaar brought Qairas closer to the dragon. He has passed
the dragon's tests and was now slightly more worthy of his attention.
Despite the fear in his heart, Qairas knew that the dragon could become a
valuable asset if the firstbourne chooses to get himself involved.
Qairas placed the card closer to him and nodded.
Writer: Qairas
Date Thu Jul 29 09:43:27 2010
To All Abaddon Malucaar Imm ( Fatale )
Subject An Innocent Game - II
*drip*
Five of Hearts - Huguette and Zayin of Verminasia - While not very familiar
with them, the Shade met the Verminasians after a sermon to Fatale. He had
his suspecions and knew full well that these are two of the most dangerous
mortals in Algoron. He snickered at the thought of calling them allies.
Despite it all, he respected Zayin and their brief work together made him
respect the King even more.
The shade placed the card to his left and draw another card.
*drip*
Ace of Spades - Madilyn Trucido - A mixed feeling took over Qairas. He was
trained for unquestionable loyalty in his service years, being a mercenery
in Shokono. He intended to remain loyal in Abaddon as well. He also
reminded himself that Madilyn was a priestess of Fatale, one in good
standing.
For the first time, a card was placed directly infront of him. He rubbed
his chin and reshuffled his deck.
*drip*
Ace of Diamonds - Enduriel, servant of Malachive - Again, mixed feelings.
Again, the shade's hand scratched at his beard absent mindedly. Enduriel
was the enemy, or was he? Despite their short encounter, Qairas could see
the oozing charisma of this man. Perhaps there is more to him then he knew.
The card was placed infront of him.
*drip*
Five of Diamonds - He looked around him. Argaz, the priest of Fatale,
Kurita, the foreign assassin and Tribul were present. These are the
servants of Fatale, the ones that will live and die with him, based on wise
or unwise decisions of the leadership. The fellowship was forming.
Qairas placed that card to his right.
He sighed, drawing one last card.
*drip*
Prince of Hearts - Isinesa - Regardless of their night time adventures,
Isinesa and Qairas worked well together. Two loyal assassins, both knowing
how and when to calm the other in order to see the mission through.
However, Isinesa was as dangerous as she was useful, and Qairas knew that.
He placed the final card infront of him.
Qairas took a long hard look at the cards scatterd around him.
The cards were revealed. The game is in motion.
Writer: Adyson
Date Thu Jul 29 12:32:05 2010
Writer: Amyth'lynn
Date Thu Jul 29 13:45:59 2010
Writer: Garaint
Date Thu Jul 29 15:36:54 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Thu Jul 29 22:45:23 2010
Writer: Liviya
Date Fri Jul 30 04:16:11 2010
Writer: Bryanna
Date Fri Jul 30 08:25:00 2010
Writer: Madilyn
Date Fri Jul 30 10:09:48 2010
Writer: Madilyn
Date Fri Jul 30 10:17:51 2010
Writer: Enduriel
Date Fri Jul 30 20:49:33 2010
Writer: Garaint
Date Sat Jul 31 00:51:46 2010
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