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Writer: Madilyn
Date Sat Mar 23 01:37:55 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Sat Mar 23 13:14:31 2013
To All Althainia Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Austinian Zandreya imm Scorn
Subject (Ixi-Classics: Remastered) Turned Away, Part Three (orig 2009)
The flames crept ever closer to Ixi'kweez. All the while, Ixi'kweez
could not take his eyes off of statue of the Holy Father. It gazed down on
him, the telltale visage of calm and placidity in its face and posture. Its
hands outstretched, as if to offer sanctuary and peace. Ixi'kweez fought
inwardly with himself for several moments, refusing to take his eyes off of
the statue, a contrasting tableau of strife and salvation. Finally,
Ixi'kweez stood up, screaming a desperate wail of frustration and defeat.
With that, he summoned a tornado. The flames of the estate were battered
and sucked upward by the massive cyclone, ridding the manor of active
flames. Everything about him was charred and covered in a fine, black soot.
Ixi'kweez walked straight up to the statue with purpose, and stared upwards
at it, inspecting it carefully. He noticed that strangely enough, the
statue was as white and pristine as it ever was, despite the ordeal it had
been front and center for. There was no soot anywhere on it. No scorches,
no cracks. It stood before him, as it always did, holding out its arms, and
offering peace.
Ixi'kweez stood before the statue, motionless himself. The sad, contentious
tableau continued for several minutes. Ixi said nothing. Really, there was
nothing -to- say. Austinian was well aware what goes on with each and every
one of his children. And what good would saying something do now? There
-was- no home. There -was- no family. There -was- no returning to his
homeland...
All there was, was Ixi'kweez, and this statue, amidst a world of char and
ash.
Finally, Ixi did speak, gazing up dejectedly into the statue's face, which
continued to return his gaze. "My title is gone. My nobility is gone. My
wife is gone. My family is gone. My dream, of returning to the Vallens, is
gone." Ixi'kweez once again became silent, lowering his gaze to the
ground. Directly in front of the statue, was a seedling, no more than a
couple of inches long, sticking out of the soil. Not every rose was a
casualty this day. Ixi'kweez once again raised his head to meet the
statue's gaze.
"You have my undivided attention."
Writer: Miribelle
Date Sat Mar 23 15:19:13 2013
To All Marauders Thrazgash Phemia Radanora Barol Vyrhakun
Subject Library Reconnaissance
"Spread out, but stay in pairs, yes. Do not lose sight of one another,
even for a moment."
It was not precisely the batillion she had in mind. Eight soldiers and on
additional Magi was All she could be spared for this reconniasance mission.
It felt like enough- indeed, it felt like overkill- when she was assigned
them back in Fort Ironclad. But here in the dark, surrounded by ancient
tomes and mindless roving golems, no matter how weak, lent an ominous air of
foreboding to the ruined library.
Light from her spells and the torches each man carried flickered and dance
in the dim, musty corridors, and the petite magus wondered for a moment if
the clammy, damp air alone would extinguish them. As the eight soldiers
disappeared into corridors leading to different ends of the ancient, musty
building, she turned to her taller Magi companion to issue more orders.
"We will be taking inventory of anything left in rooms. Stone bookshelves,
chandeliers, lampholders, pedastals, anything that may be moved. Also, take
not of any likely areas to hide vaults, and mark on map for investigation
later."
Without turning her head, she extends an arm and sends a molten firey ball
of death spinning down the hallway with a high-pitched whining sound, that
impacts a shambling clay golem directly in its chest, blowing it to dust.
"And do be careful."
With her soldiers occupied and her subdued assistant skittering about taking
notes, the Magus had little to do but wait. Finding every piece of wooden
chair and table rotted to sticks long ago, the only place to sit was the
musty floor. While looking for the cleanest spot to sit, an army of
cockroaches skittered past her feet, chased by a rat the size of a small
cat, sending Miribelle jumping back a few paces and aiming a
much-too-powerful fireball at the fleeing insects and rodent.
After she managed to prevent herself from hyperventilating, she came to the
decision at the floor wasn't the best place to sit.
Instead, she wandered the halls of the library, always keeping the flicker
of torchlight from her search parties within view, and studied the
disinegrating structures for herself. Large rickety signs overhead, painted
in fading, cracked paint, advertised empty or rotting sections for art,
politics, history, magic theory, and a dozen other subjects. Her
imagination wandered to the past, wondering what such a grand library must
have been like in it's prime: a colorful, lively space filled with the
voices of eager young magi learning and talking and discussing important
issues of the day, debating pros and cons of political and magical theory
that would likely impact her very own life centuries in the future. The
image brought a smile to her lips.
By sunrise the next morning, the search party had mapped out a workable
blueprint of the area, complete with an adequate list of materials to work
with, some rooms needing to simply be cleared of trash before being able to
be used as a fortified structure, while other rooms would have to be
completely barricated to prevent further cave-ins. And the grand prize of
the evening: a small lockbox heavy with gold and gems found beneath a
flagstone in one of the office-rooms, much to the delight of the young
soldier who discovered it. Miribelle congratulated the sharp soldier with a
smile, promising to mention him to the Highlord himself for his hard work
and sharp attention to detail. All in all, a successful mission.
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Sat Mar 23 20:52:19 2013
To All Althainia Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Austinian Zandreya imm Scorn Sadora
Subject (Ixi-Classics: Remastered) Turned Away, Epi-Log. (orig 2009)
Ixi'kweez stood inside the gate to his home for quite some time the next
morning, surverying the damage he had caused with his rampage. It was as
bad as he had expected. The garden and All around it was completely
charred, save for the statue of Austinian, which was untouched. The
cottages on each side of the courtyard had sustained substantial damage from
the inferno he had cast down upon the estate.
Ixi'kweez had thought that returning here would bring on some upwelling of
emotion... Anger, regret, hope. But after several moments, he realized
that returning here seemed to cause him no reaction whatsoever. The plain
truth was, he was here for two reasons only. Ixi'kweez gathered himself up
and began to make the painstaking repairs it take to restore the estate to
its original condition. Ixi'kweez spent the coming days building new roofs,
replacing broken windows, rebuilding and repairing furniture, buying and
replacing soiled linens.
Once the houses were restored to his satisfaction, Ixi'kweez turned his
focus to the courtyard. He cleared the land and retilled it, leaving
nothing but the statue. He then travelled to the Avendale estate in the
Vallens, and took dozens of grafts of the prized Avendale heirloom roses.
These, he planted about the statues. Ixi'kweez finished by building a pair
of benches so once again, people could congregate outside and relax. It was
as pristine as it was the day it was completed.
The first of Ixi'kweez's self-imposed tasks completed, Ixi'kweez walked back
into his house and took one last look at it. He then sat down and the table
he had just built. A very ornate peice carved from fresh hickory, each leg
ending in a lion's foot. He took a piece of parchment from his pack and
began writing.
Sadora,
If you read this, I hope you are well. It is growing clearer by the month
to me that you have no plans to return. Long have I held on to hope that
you would come back to me. To enjoy our home. To be there to support me
when I am troubled, and to allow me to do the same. Such a time has just
passed for me, leaving me an outcast in the Vallens, due to my work for Holy
Father. I am a broken man, Sadora. Young Aneiron is well on his way to a
fine career. I have but one purpose left to fulfill in life, and if I
cannot do it with a steady hand by my side to support me, then I must do it
alone. I truly wish this would have ended happily, and I truly hope that
you are happy wherever you are.
-Ixi'kweez.
Ixi'kweez removed his wedding ring, rolled the scroll tightly, and fished it
through the ring. He left them both on their bed, one that was never used.
He quietly closed the door behind him, walked through the newly planted
courtyard to the gate, then on towards the city, never once looking back.
Writer: Dra'gan
Date Sat Mar 23 21:11:00 2013
Writer: Crothus
Date Mon Mar 25 10:51:19 2013
To Chaos All Diuxa Erebaal ( Scorn Malachive Seanan Imm rp )
Subject Picking Fights part 1
The rush of his blood in his ears was almost All that he could hear. The
throb of the beating he'd taken so far had permeated his body until there
was no defining from where it originated.
His head lowered, dangling his thick black dread-locks around his face and
the rush of his breath in his lungs heralded a return of the world around
him abruptly.
Sweat and blood dripped from him and he finally lifted his crimson gaze to
take in the hulking bugbear that stood a few feet away. Its eyes were a
hideous yellow and set beneath a heavy brow. Its lower jaw jutted forward,
revealing mishapen fangs that swam in blood tinged slaver. It was even then
dripping from its mouth and its large clawed hands clenched and unclenched
with the fury he had evoked in it.
He grinned at it, revealing a bloody smile and brazenly beckoned it onward.
The goblinoid was not a soldier, merely a miner, but years of back-breaking
toil had put a great deal of bulk on it. And it was deep in rage - exactly
where he wanted it.
It began to growl with every breath as it came on. He stood there though
while it balled its hands and struck him with All the staggering power of
its fists. The sickening thump of knuckle meeting flesh resounded to the
sound of thunderous cheering and gutteral growls.
The make-shift tavern, built largely out of a few ramshackle huts set up
hard against a cavern in a cliffside, was packed full of goblinoids who
worked the mines near Darkonin. And from the sounds of it, they All wanted
a piece of him.
He laughed even as the bugbear clocked him hard upside the jaw. Spitting
blood, he finally met the hulking brute with a solid hit to the solar plexus
that knocked it back with a wheeze and was in the process of closing on the
creature when a green, corded form dove at him from the side.
The hobgoblin was All muscle and sinew as it grappled him but he overpowered
it easily and flung it across the room, watching with pleasure as it struck
a group of smaller goblins who crashed to the floor. He was turning back to
his original foe when a fist, driven with stunning power, impacted his
temple and sent him reeling to the ground. It was only then, with a giant
ogre looming over him, that a pile of goblinoids fell upon him to hold him
down.
He'd come to the tavern to feed the fury, to alleviate the anger that burned
beneath the composed exterior. He had been born and bred to be a fighter.
It was in his blood as surely as the fury that burned through him like lava.
He struggled beneath the combined weight of the goblinoids atop him but he
knew he couldn't handle so many. That was when his gaze swung to the
cloaked figure lounging in the shadows by the cavern wall. They hadn't
discussed this, it was pure reckless behavior on his part, but he grinned
all the same - much to the displeasure of the giant ogre that slapped a pair
of rustic iron shackles to his forearms and forcibly escorted him out.
"Chaos scum. " The ogre growled at his back. "Ogre-father be pleased with
you death."
His blood was flowing freely, he'd come without weapons or armor. He'd been
looking for a good, uncomplicated brawl but even so, he released a low,
ominous laugh and turned his head far enough to fix his captor in a crimson
glare before uttering, "I don't think so. "
Writer: Crothus
Date Mon Mar 25 11:01:27 2013
To Chaos All Diuxa Erebaal ( Scorn Malachive Seanan Imm rp )
Subject Picking Fights part 2
The hour had been late and the weather had turned bad.
Fast moving clouds had concealed the moons and the stars and soon after, a
freezing mix of ice and snow had begun to slash down from the heavens.
His brawl had stirred up the mining camp but enough time had passed and the
lights had finally been snuffed out. The cavern holding him had been
created for goblinoids. It was sturdy but still rustic and the enforcer
who'd grabbed him had left the shackles on as an extra precaution.
It wouldn't be enough.
He sat in stillness for a time though, listening to the wind howl outside
the cavern while he took stock of injuries; reveling quietly in the release
of his fury. Waiting...
And like a wraith summoned from the shadow realm, she came. Ghosting from
the gloom, wielding a key and her spear. There was no judgment in her pale
eyes when she paused to look at him through the bars.
"We have been here before." She said, her voice pitched low.
"Its different now" He responded, drawing closer to the bars. "We are not
slaves."
The sound of a blade parting flesh drew his attention and he turned his gaze
from Diuxa as she unlocked the barred door to see the armored figure of
Erebaal appear, splattered with blood, his leering demon mask concealing
whatever expression lie beneath and his axe hung dripping from his grasp.
The creak of the iron bars swinging open heralded the removal of his
shackles and into the silence, that smelled of blood and violent death, he
passed from the cell to meet the man, who tipped his gaze.
"Was there a giant ogre?" He asked of the Word Bearer while Diuxa handed
him a war axe, curved and wickedly bladed. He found it interesting that she
had chosen the human to join her in this endeavor, but he was not at all
surprised.
"There was not, Everchosen." Came the response.
"Good." Crothus grinned and flexed his shoulders to the sound of vertebrae
cracking. "I want that one."
A pleasing display of carnage met his gaze in the make-shift hut that served
as the prison entrance but they didn't pause. They were close enough to
Darkonin to have to concern themselves with more than angry miners.
Writer: Betha
Date Mon Mar 25 22:35:33 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Tue Mar 26 01:08:31 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom imm Scorn Joules Zandreya Austinian
Subject (Ixi-Classics: Remastered) Olliwac's Opportunity, Part One (orig. early 2009)
White Moon Isle certainly lived up to its name this particular evening,
bathed in the milky, alabaster moonlight of the white moon, at least where
it was able to penetrate the thick, dense fog that chronically plagued the
interior forest. Ixi'kweez wiped the sweat from his brow, tossing another
perfectly cut dreadwood log onto the large pile beside him. Ixi enjoyed the
time he spent in this forest. There was rarely a soul to be seen, and on
most occasions, a good place to work without fear of distraction
His day's quota of logs met, he paused for a moment to get an accurate count
before he raised the portal and moved them into his vault.
Seventy-three..... Seventy-fo---. Ixi'kweez halted and listened, hearing a
brief, but noticable cracking noise somewhere in the canopy above him.
After hearing nothing more for several seconds, he continued his count.
Ninety-six.... Ninety-sev---. There it was again. Ixi'kweez once again
waited in silence. Surmising it was nothing more than one of the indigenous
critters of the forest, he began to gather up his supplies.
-SNAP-........ CRASH! !
Ixi turned quickly enough to catch a glimpse of a small, slender figure
crash directly on top of his pile of dreadwood, from the canopy above. It
laid motionless amidst the now scattered pile of logs for several seconds.
As Ixi'kweez slowly approached, the figure sprang to its feet, only to
tumble head over heels comically over one of many logs now strewn about the
forest floor. Ixi extended a hand of aid to the creature, only to have it
smacked away by a tiny hand, holding a dagger in terrible condition, the
point and most of the blade long broken off. The creature slowly ambled to
its feet once again, and approached Ixi'kweez unsteadily, broken weapon in
hand.
"Give me your money! I'll..... I'll....... Just give it!! I'm....."
Ixi was now finally able to get a glimpse of the nearly skeletal figure
before him. A young kender male, and one in sad condition at that. He
looked as if he hadn't had a square meal in a very long time. His clothes
were little more than rags. He had no other possessions. Ixi'kweez stood
his guard, regarding the kender sympathetically.
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Wed Mar 27 23:42:46 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom imm Scorn Joules
Subject (Ixi-Classics: Remastered) Olliwac's Opportunity, Part Two (orig. early 2009)
Ixi'kweez knew full well why this emaciated kender wretch attacked him,
and he would not put him through the indignity of asking him. Ixi reached
into one of his packs and pulled out a loaf of waybread, holding it out to
the kender, who snatched it up greedily and scarfed it down.
Ixi'kweez looked upon him for several seconds before speaking again. "What
is your name, little one?" Ixi'kweez asked the wretch as he offered his
flask to him.
"Well, what's -your- name, twig?" , The impudent kender replied
impulsively, his eyes shifting from side to side.
Ixi'kweez remembered the need for patience when speaking with kender, and
shook off the off-handed insult. He answered, chuckling, "Fair enough,
friend. I am Ixi'kweez. And you are?"
"No foolin'! -I'm- Ixi'kweez too!" The kender replied inpudently, as he
discreetly slid Ixi's flask into one of his many empty pouches. "Are you a
lumberjack too?"
Ixi'kweez laughed out loud, smiling broadly. "No you're not! I assure you,
I'm the only Ixi'kweez walking this earth. Come now, little one. Clearly,
I mean you no harm. Who are you, and what are you doing out here?"
The kender sighed and answered, "The name is Olliwac. And I'm a scaaaaary
bandit!"
Ixi regarded Olliwac seriously for a moment before speaking again. "The
bandit's life does not seem to be doing you any favors, Olliwac."
Olliwac stuck his tongue out at Ixi'kweez and continued, "Gee, you think
so!? I already knew I was a failure, thanks. -Anyway-, I left home to make
a name for myself. That name is 'mud' apparently. Now I stay here and try
to catch some dinner once in a while. But I can't even do -that- right! I
won't return home til I can say I'm a somebody. Even if that means dying
out here."
Ixi'kweez pondered Olliwac's decision for a moment. The kender made his
choice. He would stay here, until he was either self-sufficient or dead. A
seemingly ridiculous idea suddenly came upon him.
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Thu Mar 28 00:46:59 2013
To All ( Zandreya RP Aviandha )
Subject Stirring the pot
A magically conjured breeze caused the various papers and maps to rustle upon the elf's desk,
Kaelowyth having learned early that the stillness of his study was too disconcerting. Drawing a
single delicate finger over the map, he sits and murmurs to himself.
"If my brother will let us cross here..."
Sighing, Kaelowyth rubs at the bridge of his nose and removes his glasses before leaning back in
his chair. There were too many unknowns, too many things that could go wrong - ah but that was the
rub of it. Things were not exciting if they did not have elements of risk, and this was perhaps the
riskiest endeavor the elf had ever undertaken.
Smiling to himself, he rises from his chair and crosses the cavernous study to his fur-covered dais,
seating himself squarely in the middle with crossed legs. Closing his eyes, he began to think and
plot.
"She will have to be of good blood..."
"They will have to have no scruples..."
"I will have to garner more funds..."
For hours, he simply sits and goes over every angle, every detail, until he is able to recite them
in his sleep. Such discipline was second nature to him, it was part and parcel of who he was. Of
course one could argue that he had not always been this devious, that he had once known the truth
of being balanced in All that he did. The thought gnawed at him, and caused him to squirm there
atop the furs. Frowning heavily, the elf sat up straight and opened his eyes, staring up at the
canopied ceiling before whispering slowly to himself in the most archaic of Elvish tongues.
"Where there is stagnation, I will bring life."
"Where there is order, I will bring chaos."
"Where there is life, I will bring death."
The mantra soothes him, and instantly he felt as he once did - one and whole with Nature. In his
heart he could -feel- that he was doing what he was meant to. All that he did from this point on,
would be in pursuit of this. That simple thought brought a peace and clarity to the elf's mind
that elicited a wide and toothy grin even as the whispered words left his lips.
"I am doing Her will. I am Her breeze, these lands are Her study."
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Thu Mar 28 02:23:03 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Scorn Joules
Subject (Ixi-Classics: Remastered) Olliwac's Opportunity, Part Three (orig. early 2009)
Olliwac did not have good survival skills. He did not have much in the
way of intelligence. But what he -did- have, was pride. Olliwac would
sooner die than return home a failure. A choice no doubt others have made
and will make for themselves, outcome be damned.
"I wish to make you a proposition, Olliwac."
"Back off buddy, I don't swing that way!" , The kender replied
sarcastically, finally beginning to settle down a bit.
Ixi'kweez rolled his eyes and continued, "I am opening a store soon, a
permanent home for Ixi-Mart in Nordmaar"
"Oh, yeah. I've heard of that place! You sell All those piles of junk,
right?"
Ixi'kweez was seriously reconsidering the offer he was about to make to
Olliwac. But he could not let this poor soul get himself killed here in the
forest. He continued on, "Anyway.... I will soon be of need for a
shopkeeper. I will not be -giving- you a decent wage. You will have to
-earn- it. You will help sell the 'junk' I collect, as well as keep the
shop clean and presentable. In exchange for your loyalty, you will be able
to live comfortably, in a manner one would want to write home about."
Olliwac thoughtfully pondered the proposition offered to him. It was not
every day someone offers a kender a job in their store. The thought of
pilfering appealed to the kender, as it does with All kender. But the
possibility of steady income and a roof over his head won out (though it was
close). He decided to accept Ixi'kweez's offer.
"Alright Ixi, I'll do it. I can clearly see you need me, and I would hate
to think your junkstore tanked because I wouldn't help. You got a deal.
One question though. What makes you so sure you can trust me?"
Ixi'kweez looked at Olliwac and replied calmly, "If it turns out that I
can't trust you, I can simply bring you back here, and you can resume your
lucrative career as a bandit."
The kender gulped and nodded his head briskly. He couldn't get away from
this place soon enough. He smiled as Ixi'kweez tossed a bag of coins to the
kender, who slipped it into one of his packs with one swift movement.
"This should be enough for you to get by for the short time it will take to
have the store built. Find yourself a spot in a city. Somewhere safe.
Stay out of trouble, and I will call for you when it is time."
"I'll be ready, Ixi! You just call when you're ready. Well, I better be
goi---"
"There's just one more thing, Olliwac. " Ixi'kweez interrupted.
"Sure boss! Anything!" Olliwac said, still slowly backing away.
"You can return my flask now."
The kender did so sheepishly and left. Ixi'kweez was only now understanding
the gravity of the situation. A kender running his shop? What was he
thinking? Ixi'kweez shook his head and went about restacking his dreadwood.
Writer: Ethiriel
Date Thu Mar 28 11:05:23 2013
Writer: Ethiriel
Date Thu Mar 28 13:43:11 2013
Writer: Ethiriel
Date Thu Mar 28 15:12:55 2013
Writer: Ancaladar
Date Fri Mar 29 14:30:56 2013
Writer: Ancaladar
Date Fri Mar 29 14:42:54 2013
Writer: Aelysse
Date Tue Apr 2 09:11:55 2013
Writer: Dyas
Date Tue Apr 2 16:50:29 2013
Writer: Aelysse
Date Wed Apr 3 08:17:40 2013
Writer: Phemia
Date Wed Apr 3 18:29:42 2013
Writer: Phemia
Date Wed Apr 3 18:31:50 2013
Writer: Phemia
Date Wed Apr 3 18:33:33 2013
Writer: Julthax
Date Wed Apr 3 19:52:16 2013
Writer: Fardoc
Date Wed Apr 3 21:34:36 2013
To All Drobsek Wargar Presten Imm Religion Nadrik [RP]
Subject A Conflict of Loyalties - Part One
The war between Gareth and the Mountain has been very taxing on Fardoc,
the dwarven priest of Nadrik. His loyalties are torn between duty to his
clan, or loyalty to Lord Nadriks faithful. After being first exiled for his
dissent, then returning to the hall, Fardoc sought out the advice of
Presten, a former Hand of Nadrik and Knight of the Shield.
------------
A middle-aged dwarf kneels before a statue of Nadrik, God of Honor. He
appears lost in prayer, hoping for guidance in any form. He looks up
suddenly as a Knight enters the temple.
Presten raises his shield in salute. He looks at Fardoc with a stern yet
kind expression, his eyes studying him. Fardoc bows to the knight and says,
Thank you for meeting with me. I do not wish to take much of your time. I
only wish to ask your opinion on what I should do.
The knight replies, I would challenge the leaders of both clans to look at
why we are at war, our squabbles have never been more then lost tempers in
the past.
Fardoc sighs and says, 'I have, and it is his belief that the Keep cannot
remain allies with us if they divide the mountain by aura. However, this
does not excuse this alliance with the Shadowknights.
Sometimes politics can sway people to align themselves to one thing or
another out of necessity, but rest assured that the Knights of Gareth do not
divide your people by their aura. They will, however, judge them by so. It
is the same with the elves. That is one thing that separates us from our
brothers in Justice: we hold to our morals, whether they benefit us or not.
Fardoc nods and replies, I understand the distinction. I believe that this
is a situation that may be resolved with discussion, if we let it be so.
Was there some great offense that was done, other then that? The knight
says.
I had a very heated argument with the former Lord Hill. He threatened to
kill me for refusing to fight the Knights, and then challenged the Thane's
leadership. Therefore, he was removed from power.
Presten smiles, slightly appraising the dwarf. Such strength you may indeed
have, he says.
Fardoc looks at Presten and says, I have not wavered.
He replies. Good, and in that Nadrik would be proud... However, you and I
both know he would condemn you for condoning or working alongside those that
wish to further an evil agenda because it was right at the time. So the
question remains, what shall we do now? Presten taps his chin thoughtfully.
I wish to honor our Lord with my objections, and bring honor back to our
hall. I detest the Shadowknights, but I do not know what mere words can do
to sway the Thane.
Presten nods at the dwarf, This war is about two things, pride and
alliances.
Fardoc shrugs, I think more with Pride, from what I can tell.
You have to show your Thane that the strength of one alliance is greater
than the other... While at the same time showing him there is no loss of
pride or face. I have dealt with dwarves for many, many years. We've
fought, we've feasted and drank and held celebrations that lasted months.
One thing was always certain. A dwarf can many times confuse honor with
pride, as can humans, but its amplified in your race. Especially amongst
the battleragers, they are trained in such. Preston says.
Do you think the leadership of the Keep would be amenable to meeting with
the Thane, under a flag of Truce, for a discussion of grievances? Fardoc
says.
Absolutely.. But know this, this is not a insult throwing session for your
Thane to offer at those who differ in aura. ' Presten says sternly, If that
happens he will likely find himself in a much worse position. I suggest
that dwarven envoys be sent to Justice as well. Now, you will lose other
alliances almost immediately, Shadow, for one. We will not make you choose
that, they will. Perhaps the Slayers as well.
I would be sure to ask him to keep his temper in check. I am not certain he
will even listen. If he does not, I do not know my options, Fardoc replies.
Writer: Fardoc
Date Wed Apr 3 21:38:18 2013
To All Drobsek Wargar Presten Imm Religion Nadrik [RP]
Subject A Conflict of Loyalties - Part Two
Presten smiles wearily at the dwarf, You may find yourself amongst the
great priests of our Lord yet... Master Fardoc. Remember, when a priest of
Nadrik speaks, he commands authority. Even amongst his enemies. I will
speak to the leaders of Gareth, and I ask you do the same amongst your
leaders. I think this is a conflict easily resolved.
I hope so as well. I will keep you informed of my progress. , The dwarf
says.
Presten says Remind them that Shadows prophecy wishes to enslave and kill
them All too, In fact it has stories of first the forests burning, then the
mountain, and bringing All of the people and nations under their grip.
Shadows peace with the Mountain is strategic, not indefinite. As soon as it
benefits them, they will strike you All down if given the chance.
Fardoc nods and says, I agree. I think this alliance was made from foolish
pride, without any thought of the repercussions.
Relay this message from Gareth: We wish you to live in peace and govern
amongst yourselves, we understand that your war with Shalonesti is not our
concern, as much as it pains us to watch our friends do battle. And make it
heard, Fardoc Priest of Nadrik.
Fardoc bows to Presten and confers the blessing of his God upon the knight.
The knight turns to the priest and bids him safe travels, We will speak
again, he assures him.
You as well. Take care of yourself, ' Fardoc says.
Parting amicably, the two returned to their brethren to relay wishes of
goodwill and peace between the factions.
Writer: Presten
Date Thu Apr 4 02:03:27 2013
Writer: Cherrae
Date Thu Apr 4 12:42:14 2013
Writer: Aelysse
Date Thu Apr 4 19:22:06 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Thu Apr 4 20:33:04 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Maraisal Kadence
Subject (Ixi-Classics: Remastered) Squeezums!, Part One (orig: Autumn 2009)
The journey home from Shokono was rather uneventful for Ixi'kweez. A
quiet trip back home, after a day of shopping with Miss Kadence. She had
wanted a pet to call her own, and Ixi'kweez would not let a lady take such a
trip alone. She had bought a most distinguished looking chow dog for
herself, and was anxious to take it home.
Not normally one to have a pet of his own, a certain red panda at the Golden
Claw and Hoof caught his eye. More slender than the average panda bear, it
seemed to be full of curiousity and affection. Her cage was small, and not
very clean, but that did little to stop her from pushing side of her body up
against the bars of the cage for a chance of a petting.
"I'll take her." Ixi'kweez said as he counted out the silver on Yoshi's
counter. Kadence and himself, pets in tow, made their way back to the dock
and boarded the Koi for home.
The two pets seemed rather indifferent to each other, each preferring the
company of their respective new owners. The panda sat sprawled out on the
deck, playing with a stone it must have grabbed along the way. She stared
intently at the stone, as she pushed it from one paw to the other, in what
seemed to be childlike amazement.
At one point, the panda was not paying quite enough attention, and she ended
up pushing the stone out of her reach. Ixi'kweez fully expected her to go
and get it, but she simply sat with a befuddled expression on her face.
After a few moments, she shrugged and began to roll around. Apparently, she
had found a new game to play.
"She certainly seems happy enough... " Ixi'kweez said to Kadence. "...
But what to name her?"
The panda jumped up to her feet and swung around to face the two elves.
"Squeezums! " she yelled to everyone's amazement. Then she clapped a few
times and plopped back down to the deck, rolling around on the deck once
more.
Kadence and Ixi'kweez could do little but stare, and maybe blink
occasionally at this seemingly most unusual panda. He sat a moment more
thinking about it. "I bet she must have an interesting story to tell... "
he mused to himself.
He crouched down on the deck in front of the panda, looking into her huge
black eyes. "Can you say, Ixi'kweez? " he asked her.
"Squeezums! " she yelled again, and again she clapped, only to return to
her game once again.
Ixi'kweez continued to stare at the panda, and came to the conclusion that
the her ability to say anything at All was quite remarkable. "I guess your
name is Squeezums then, that was easy. " He smiled and rose to his feet
again, looking over the rail at the seas.
"Squeezums! " Squeezums yelled once more, clapping the whole time.
"Perhaps I will pay Yoshi another visit soon, and see if he knows anything
about her. " Squeezums sat up and stared at her left paw, seemingly
mystified.
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Thu Apr 4 20:57:12 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Thu Apr 4 21:04:35 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Maraisal Kadence
Subject (Ixi-Classics: Remastered) Squeezums!, Part Three (orig Autumn 2008)
Ixi'kweez and his most unusual friend, strolled up to the Seki at
daybreak, after an evening of hiking northward on the Yotanoko Trail, up the
Kurotaka Hills, and through the shrine of Utiko. Extremely anxious for
answers, the spent just a short time in the town proper, stopping briefly at
the fish market for Squeezums long awaited meal. They then made straight
for the Damimyo's home on the north side of town.
He knocked on the door, and to his surprise, Damimyo Ieyasu himself
answered. "Ah, a visitor, splendid. I find it hard to stay occupied in
retirement. Please come to my garden for some tea an--" The Damimyo stopped
dead in his tracks as he turned to regard the red panda strolling in to his
garden. He rocked back on his heels a bit, then began to smile.
"Squeezums! " he exclaimed.
"Squeezums! " Squeezums replied, clapping loudly. She then plopped onto
her back side and began to stare at her paws in wide-eyed amazement,
seemingly in her own little world.
Damimyo Ieyasu turned to regard Ixi'kweez with a amazed smile. "It was
-you- who bought Squeezums from Yoshi's store. I am glad she has found a
kind owner. I suppose you came looking for an explanation. Rest assured, I
have the answers you seek. "
The Damimyo poured out some tea into a pair of glasses, and he and Ixi'kweez
walked over to a short square table, and they took a seat on the deck.
"A couple of months ago... " Ieyasu continued. "There was a very sick
little girl in the village. Our healers did All we could for her, but it
was said that her illness was terminal, unfortunately". The Damimyo took a
moment to keep his composure, and began again. "I decided that a pet may be
the best thing to help alleviate the pain she felt. I sent the sorcerer
Hojo into Shokono, to find a nice panda for the little girl. Now Hojo, he's
pretty elderly now, but he thought it would be just exquisite to give the
panda speaking powers. Unfortunatly, things didn't go as smoothly as
expected. Not only can she only speak her name, but..... " The Damimyo
winced slightly. "But he managed to... Addle her brains a bit in the
process. " He smiled at Squeezums, now fast asleep.
"Little Yuki loved Squeezums, but alas, she succumbed to her illness. The
other villagers were constantly reminded of Yuki by Squeezums presence, and
it was decided that she would need to find a new home. I pleases me to no
end that she is safe and happy with you, Regent. Please do not bear malice
to the aged Hojo, he simply tried to help. "
Of course, Damimyo Ieyasu, one cannot blame for trying to help, and I would
not think to. Your answers been invaluable to me, and please, if you or
your village ever has need, please call upon me and the Vallens.
Ieyasu smiled and led us to the Seki once again, wishing us farewell.
Ixi'kweez mused, "I could get used to a quaint little place like this...
Perhaps a vacation home... "
"Take care, Regent Ixi'kweez, and may the gods blessings be with you and the
Vallens. And good-bye to you as well, dear Squeezums! " The Damimyo called
to the pair as the made their way back through the Utiko Shrine.
"Squeezums! " Squeezums replied, clapping All the way.
Writer: Syndarael
Date Thu Apr 4 21:33:06 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Thu Apr 4 22:23:20 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Austinian Zandreya All imm Scorn Joules
Subject Boardroom Intervention
Ixi'kweez strolled into the boardroom, to see that everyone had already
arrived and had seated themselves. They looked upon Ixi'kweez grimly, the
room in complete silence. Noticing nothing, he brushed past them and
flopped into his corinthian leather executive chair.
"Alright. What's the first order of business today.?" Ixi asked
pleasantly.
The board members exchanged nervous glances amongst each other, all
eventually settling on Olliwac, sitting crosslegged on the table. With a
resigned sigh, he rose to his feet and strode towards Ixi'kweez slowly.
"Ixi, why are you hoarding All this stuff?"
Ixi looked quizzically at Olliwac a moment. "Why, for the big sale! You
all know that!"
The elderly kender made a face and continued. "Right, the big sale.
But.... How big's it gotta be? How much is enough?"
"What are you driving at, friend?"
Olliwac looked back at the other board members, then back to Ixi. "Several
members of the board, myself included, think you might have a problem."
Ixi'kweez looked dumbfounded. "Problem!? That's silly! I have no problem
with hoarding! I can stop any time I want to! ' "Ixi, this is getting
ridiculous!!" Olliwac yelled frantically, waving his arms madly. "The
warehouse is beyond full! Ooof has nowhere to put this stuff. We have to
sell it!"
Illiquin quickly threw his two cents into the ring. "Ixi,
we'renotmakinganymoney!"
The large ogre lumbered to his feet. "Sturage full. Ooof can't fit no more
in der. Ixi dis crazy."
Ixi'kweez looks about his boardroom in wide eyed amazement. Never before
had the board confronted him so. He began to turn purple.
"FINE!! SELL IT ALL!! MEETING ADJOURNED!!" Ixi'kweez pounded violently
on the boardroom table and gave everyone dirty looks until they filed out in
silence.
Writer: Savenath
Date Fri Apr 5 14:31:23 2013
To Imm Kyri Rp All Dragon Knighthood Slayers Sorien
Subject Running Errands part 1
A shot of flames blasted at some old cobble stone wall. The battered
castle served as a well kept secret and place to stash his treasures. The
large golden dragon idly picked in between his teeth with an orc femur bone.
Satisfied he spit out remnants of an undetermined creature. The soft beings
have always feared or loved his rich golden scales in the sky. He grinned
at the thought of shooting random flares to show his might. This new soft
one was starting to annoy him with questions and constant babble.
Stretching his large frame slightly he padded off to his treasure and looked
it through to make sure All was in its correct place.
A thought lingered in the old brain for a moment and the beast almost
grinned. "The cost of babble.... Yes the cost".
Savenath curled up against the mound of his wealth and shot another blast of
flames against the stone, shattering some old skeleton to pieces, its helmet
rolling into his mound. Glancing down he crushed the helmet with one of his
forelegs.
"Errands this little one will run"
Writer: Sorien
Date Sun Apr 7 09:20:17 2013
To All Knighthood Savenath Immortal Arcana Austinian Kuromaru Imm RP
Subject Chapter 1 - The Squire
"No, Sir Arcana, I do not know how to bash. "
Sir Arcana MacAllen sighed heavily as he looked upon his newest Squire, the
young Sorien KilCannon. "Honestly, Squire, you are a warrior who can use
every weapon, every spell... Including weaken... And you did not train in
the ability to bash?! "
Sorien, the newest recruit of Gareth, fidgeted uncomfortably in place. With
his hands, he twisted his braid behind his back. He started to feel flush
and embarassed. It took All he had to keep the rest of his body still.
"Maybe we can have you get a steed, to follow you around. You can then
order it to bash, as needed. "
"Why do I need to have them bash, Sir? "
Arcana sighed heavily again, furrowing his brow.
Writer: Fardoc
Date Sun Apr 7 14:14:51 2013
To All Wargar Thaxanos Knighthood Drobsek Kiery Presten Nadrik Imm RP
Subject A Tale of Thirsty Travelers - Part One
Fardoc, the priest of Nadrik, was praying inside the Wargar clan hall, seeking guidance with recent conflicts, when strange noises began to alert him to something amiss outside the hall.
He was not positive, but noises reminiscent of the clang of chain mail and the whinny of a horse echoed throughout the hall.
-----------------
Fardoc cups his hand around his ear.
Did you hear that? he asks Radu.
Nah, what was it?
I heard the sound of a horse and chain mail armor from outside the hall. I am going to take a look around. Fardoc replies.
Fardoc cast spells of protection around himself and ventured outside the hall onto the Mountain. When he emerged, a man in ancient armor stood there next to a horse.
His armor was dented and clearly in need of repair, and he had a long mustache streaked with gray. He bore the insignia of a Knight of the Lance.
May I help you, sir? Fardoc says to the Knight.
The knight soothes the horse, calming its cries.
Sure you're nah just hearing things? Radu says to Fardoc, from within the hall.
No, please come outside. I think we have an important visitor. Fardoc told him.
Several dwarves emerged from the Mountain, Correst, Radu, and Fenderk. They began to examine the Knight, when he speaks for the first time.
I figured you might be able to. he says.
Able to see you? Fardoc asks him, confused.
The knight does not answer the question, but instead remains silent for a moment.
Correst looks to her clanmates and tells them, I don't see anything special 'bout this old salt.
Fardoc had an odd feeling about this strange knight, however, and told Correst, Please be quiet. I feel as if there is more to this man than meets the eye
Corrests eyebrows shot straight up, when the knight decided to speak again. I wondered if maybe you'd have somewhere I might water my horse so I might take a rest.
Radu is the first to speak, Sure, lad. We got plenty of water, and plenty a nice dwarven stone to sleep on.
Fenderk also voices an affirmative, while Correst remains incredulous, Psh, stop and help every old man.. you are a crazy one, ya are.
Fardoc tells the knight, Yes, of course you may come inside.
The priest leads the knight and his horse into the hall and gets them both settled.
My thanks, kindly dwarf, the knight says to Fardoc.
Correst sighs at Fardoc, then exclaims And ya brought him inside?!
Radu gives the knight a barrel filled with water, and he leads his horse to drink.
Of course I brought him inside. He is in need, and I must help him, Fardoc replies to Correst.
What if he is a spy, ye idiot! Remember when Grumf was fooled nearly te his death?! Correst yells at Fardoc.
The knight remains calm throughout this stir, and speaks as though he had not heard them, It has been a long time sense I've been within this hall. In my day this was a temple to Nadrik.
The other dwarves peer at the knight, and Radu says, Ye don' say. We got All sorts in ere, boss.
Fardoc tells the knight, Indeed it was. May I ask who you are, sir?
Correst leans back on her pew and says, Buncha dwarves actin' like kenders, ya are.
Fenderk peers at Correst and tells her, I.... umm follow Nadrik..
Fardoc beams an approving smile at him, and the knight speaks again.
The knight tells Fardoc, My apologies, sir. I am Neethan, of Gareth, though not at present. I crusade for the Lord Nadrik. It was most kind of you to invite a traveler that I know your men at arms are at war with. Honorable.
Correst glares at Fardoc. Of Gareth, he says.
Fenderk looks at her, Umm formerlae!
He also said he crusades for Lord Nadrik, which is plenty good enough for me. Fardoc tells Correst.
She rolls her eyes while Fenderk nods in agreement. Ye are talking like ye are the Thane!
Radu looks at the knight and says, It ain't personal, but war's a war an all.
Writer: Aelysse
Date Sun Apr 7 14:28:49 2013
Writer: Fardoc
Date Sun Apr 7 22:44:19 2013
To All Wargar Thaxanos Knighthood Drobsek Kiery Presten Nadrik Imm RP
Subject A Tale of Thirsty Travelers - Part Two
The knight begins to sip on his water while Correst reiterates her protest. Invitin' enemies inte tha mountain. That sounds treasonous, if ye ask me.
Fardoc replies to Correst, I invited a thirsty traveller into the hall for water. Surely this cannot be a betrayal
A thirsty enemy of tha Mountain!
Radu begins to intervene. Eh, you know ow it goes. Fight it out by day, laugh it off at night, he says to Correst.
Correst continues with Fardoc, Ye want me te go and rush some blankets te tha elves while they hug their trees out in tha cold for ya too?
Fenderk chuckles and exclaims to her, Would yea?
No, ya idiot! It was sarcasm!
Fenderk gasps in mock surprise.
Fardoc replies to Correst, He is only formerly of Gareth, and in any case, he is not hostile towards us, as you can see.
Radu turns to Neethan, See, as we said jus now, got All kinds in ere.
I apologize for causing this stir. Neethan says.
Radu laughs, and Fardoc replies, grinning, It is no problem. We dwarves tend to thrive in conflict.
Correst jabs a thumb at Fardoc, Apologize ta this treasonous twirp invitin' your ilk in here!
Of course, the hearty people of Raije and Cliath would revel in it I suppose, Neethan says to Fardoc.
The priest turns to Correst, If you would like to raise a formal complaint, feel free to do so after this man has eaten and drunk his fill.
She groans at him, And ye are giving him our food too?! While ya are taking liberties, give tha spy tha Mountain too!
Growing exasperated, Fardoc prays for a blessing of wisdom from Nadrik, then gives the knight divine nourishment. Is that amenable to you? I have sustained him by faith.
Correst throws up her arms and sighs with disgust.
Thank you. Neethan says to Fardoc.
Before anything else could be said, another dwarf awoke. Lahri! Correst says, Come help me move this spy out of tha Mountain before Fardoc finds it too cute te shoo outside.
Lahri comes into the Pantheon and asks, Spy?
Correst points at the old man in the armor and grumbles at Lahri. Spy. It is from Gareth!
Neethan say to Fardoc, I felt compelled to come here, with such trying times on the horizon. I thought perhaps I might offer aid to my brothers in arms in Wargar.
Ets ah he. Fenderk points out to Correst.
Correst flares her nostrils.
Neethan turns to Lahri, smiles, and says, Greetings.
Fardoc tells the knight, As you can see, I am not the one who holds the power in the clan. If you wish to aid, please come back to speak with the Thane.
Neethan ponders for a moment, Of course, though if rumor has it, he does not have desire to listen to one such as I.
Radu turns to Lahri, Correst's just tryin to stir up trouble.
Lahri looks as Correst, Ye makin' trouble?
Correst exclaims to Lahri, He's from Gareth, he said so. Ain't we warrin' and stuff? And better yet, why did tha priest invite this supposed-Gareth crusader inte tha Mountain?!
Fardoc ignores the argument going on behind him, You hear correctly. I have been doing my utmost to make him listen, but I have only been marginally successful.
I thought perhaps I might help a fellow follower of Nadrik who seeks council or the strong arm of His faithful soldier, Neethan says.
Fenderk nods at Fardoc.
Correst continues her protest to Lahri, He could be a spy sent te infiltrate and learn of tha rage! When was tha last time a human was let in here, eh?!
Fardoc replies to Neethan, I thank you for coming. I have been in much need of council.
The knight nods at Fardoc.
Has Lord Nadrik heard my prayers?
Yes. The Lord Nadrik hears your prayers and is heartened by them, you can be sure, Neethan says.
Lahri says to Correst, Aye, tha' bae true. Wha' has he bae talkin' abou'?
Radu chimes in, Honesly, All we're in danger of is bein good faithed ta death.
Writer: Fardoc
Date Sun Apr 7 22:51:59 2013
To All Wargar Thaxanos Knighthood Drobsek Kiery Presten Nadrik Imm RP
Subject A Tale of Thirsty Travelers - Part Three
But Correst will not let up, He's taking our food and drink! That's
serious!
I'll set ye up on a date with Gwaine if ye are such a Gareth lover!
Correst says to Radu with a glare.
Lahri glances at Correst, Ah think ye bae overreactin'
What should come first? My loyalty to my clan, or my loyalty to His
faithful? I have pored over texts, but never found a suitable answer to
this question, Fardoc asks Neethan. I feel as if my honor is in question,
regardless of my actions.
Hmph. Breeches of security ain't important? Correst says.
He bae here te talk te Fardoc, aye? Lahri replies.
Us too! Fenderk says.
Neethan tilts his head slightly and regards Fardoc, That is a question that
tests ones honor greatly, as one path can be seen equal to the other. Honor
comes in the upholding of your laws and upholding your oaths.
Lahri nods, but Fardoc asks, So there is no clear answer?
Neethan says to Fardoc, I believe there is.
Radu turns to Fardoc, Sounds clear ta me. Did ye ever swear an oath ta
Gareth?
Neethan glances Radu's way and gives a nod.
Hmph. Fine. Let a human enemy inte tha mountain! One false move though,
and we'll see if his groin is as well-armored as tha rest of him. Correst
says to Lahri.
Fenderk and Fardoc turn to stare at Correst, and Radu says, Stop thinkin
bout is groin. Got no manners.
Radu an' Fenderk seem te like him, Lahri says to Correst.
I feel tainted by this alliance with the Shadowknights. I swore my oaths
to Nadrik as well, to never seek alliances with evil. Do I stain myself by
going along with the Thane's alliance? Fardoc says to the knight.
Correst sighs quietly, A dwarf concerned 'bout manners... It be Crazy Day
in tha Mountain.
Fardoc finally speaks to Correst, Mind your manners, please.
Fenderk nods his head in agreement with Fardoc, but Correst snaps back,
Mind your good sense!
Fardoc takes a deep breath. I am. That is why I suggest that you either
remain silent and listen to this man, or leave.
Correst leans back on her pew and grumbles, We'll invite tha Generals over
for a drink next, I wager.
Fenderk says to Correst, We will?
She groans at him.
The crusader, Neethan says to Fardoc, This is a difficult question indeed,
if I were to believe that there was no hope for Wargar, then I would tell
you to do what you know is right and leave if need be. But, I do believe
there is hope to be had and grown from within the ancient and noble hall.
How you follow your orders is as important as following those orders, I
believe that within them, you can find the path of righteousness and
encourage your brethren to seek it as well.
Fardoc replies to the knight, I have thought the same. I am doing my
utmost to prove our hopes correct. I hope Lord Nadrik has been pleased with
my actions.
I believe he is, or he would not have bade me come here, the knight
replies.
I hope I have success. The Thane is planning to speak with his advisors to
see if they are amenable to conversing with the Knights. Even if it only
results in a ceasefire, Fardoc says.
Radu turns to Fardoc, Since we're doin riddles, ere's another one fer ye.
Shadow seems honorable enough. Maybe fer the wrong reasons. But?
Fardoc looks at him, The Shadowknights will never have the best interests
of the Mountain at heart. Their prophecy foretells the destruction of us
all.
Neethan nods at Radu, They will not rest until All free peoples are upon
their knees.
Rad says, Aye, Ah'm not callin 'em saints. But if we're talkin honor, an
strictly.
Fardoc replies, Whatever lies they have told us, they will betray us in a
moment's notice if they stand to gain from it.
Fenderk nods his agreement to the priests words.
Heh, Ah spose, Radu says.
Pft, Correst adds.
Fardoc peers at her.
Eh? What? Correst says.
'e got ye thar, Fenderk says to her.
Writer: Fardoc
Date Sun Apr 7 23:03:03 2013
To All Wargar Thaxanos Knighthood Drobsek Kiery Presten Nadrik Imm RP
Subject A Tale of Thirsty Travelers - Part Four
You deny what they themselves wrote? Fardoc says to Correst.
Correst raises her eyebrow.
The prophecy is not the Light's propaganda. The Shadowknights wrote it and
work for it to come to fruition. They will not rest until the world is
destroyed. The Mountain included, Fardoc says.
So ere's the question then. Do the knights ave the mountain's bes interest
at heart? Seems to me, one's maybe lying to the us, the other is killin us,
Radu replies.
Pft. Ye are biased, Correst says to Fardoc.
I would prefer we war all, including Gareth, before we continue the
alliance with Storm Keep, Fardoc retorts.
Fenderk nods at him while Correst barks with laughter.
Yea teol th' truth! Fenderk says.
I believe that Gareth has a path before them that I cannot answer for, I am
not the General of the Keep. Nadrik has sent his messengers amongst them,
but not for some time, other than to show what peril Nadrik is in, Neethan
says to Radu.
Radu nods at the knight. Aye.
Radu say to Neethan, No offense or nothin, but Ah'm a Raije dwarf, meself.
Ah don' care who we're fightin, as long as the fightin's good.
The knight smiles at Radu, A true soldiers spirit.
Correst grunts at Radu and says, Coulda fooled me for a Talienite.
Radu replies, Keep et up an Ah'll show you a Talienite.
The two begin to trade insults and banter back and forth, even going as far
as getting into a minor scuffle in the back of the Pantheon. Neethan and
Fardoc ignore their behavior, and the knight says to him, I believe I must
take my leave soon, before I depart, will you pray with me for Nadrik's
guidance and bless me before I return to the front?
Of course. Would you like to begin? Fardoc says.
No, Novitiate, I am merely a soldier, not a priest. I would be honored to
hear your words of faith, Neethan says.
Fardoc nods at the knight and bows his head in prayer, My Lord Nadrik, I am
thankful for the visit of my new brother-in-arms. Your blessings are
generous, and we are grateful. We come to you for guidance, in seeking your
will and your strength in our battle for the Light. My Lord, guide us in
thought and in action, and may our deeds be pleasing to your will. Amen.
Neethan bows his head and utters the same, Amen.
Fardoc attempts to grant the blessings of Nadrik upon the knight, but finds
himself unable. I cannot bless you, for some reason. Do you know why?
Neethan smiles at him, Perhaps it is because he is already with me.
Fenderk agrees with him. E bea blessd enough, he says.
Neethan smiles again. I believe the Lord Nadrik is pleased with you,
Deacon.
Fardoc gasps while Fenderk cheers for him.
Thank you very much. This is indeed a great honor. Fardoc says in
astonishment.
The knight replies, I return once more to battle. Do not give up on hope,
your people or its Honor, for as long as you are with them. I believe. And
so should you. It is Nadriks will.
Fenderk nudges Fardoc and says, Jus' goes ta show ye wot ignorin Correst
wiol do fer ye.
Fardoc bows to the crusader, I will seek to make him proud. Farewell, I
wish you good fortune. May He bless you. The other dwarves agree, but one
voice comments to Fenderk, Pft. I'll see tha knight on tha field and beat
tha snot out of him.
With the exception of Correst, the dwarves All mutter their goodbyes, and
Neethan, crusader of Nadrik, leads his horse out of the Pantheon in onto the
Mountain.
Writer: Damran
Date Mon Apr 8 00:59:22 2013
Writer: Rikam
Date Mon Apr 8 01:32:31 2013
To All ( Glennwyn Ezrianne Devion )
Subject The Sixth
Rikam had one angry bear of a headache. A great big hateful roaring
thing that wormed its way behind his eyes and made a home along the most
tender nerves. He was tired in his bones. He smelled like warm shark meat.
Rikam couldn't stop smiling.
"Believe nothing, " he whispered to himself over and over. "Believe
nothing. "
The things hed seen today were the sorts of things that had only ever ticked
at the edges of his imagination. The stuff of stories. Blissful little
lies to keep him dreaming. Fantastical possibilities without substance.
Reality was wedging into his brain with a grinning holler, and beyond the
pain, beyond the fear, there was a myriad of unfolding possibility. The
world was bigger, stranger, more brilliant and more fascinating than he
could have ever believed.
"Believe nothing. " he repeated into the dark. The pain in his head became
a cool, distant, funny thing. "Impossible" was soemthing to laugh about.
The headache became an itch. The itch become some weirder, more random
random sensation, no less absurd to him now than doubt, or fear.
"Believe nothing. "
Writer: Sorien
Date Mon Apr 8 05:21:24 2013
To All Austinian Shalonesti Imm RP Immortal
Subject Chapter 2 - The Lover
"Come on, Sorien! I've missed you. "
The beautiful wild elf quickly ran towards the young Squire, grasping his
hand in hers. Their fingers interlocked.
Sorien blushed heavily, unable to respond in kind. He wasn't used to being
near a creature so ravishingly exquisite, let alone speaking to one.
Across the desk at the inn, Bulk Samsonite glared at the two of them
impatiently. They were frequent guests, and he didn't like it one bit.
"Let's go! " The beautiful elf quickly scoops up the key, flying up the
stairs with Sorien in tow. The young man, utterly disarmed by her ravishing
allure, blushing heavily.
Imperceptible to All but the most keen of eyes, a grin of alabaster fangs
glint in the darkness.
Writer: Aelysse
Date Mon Apr 8 06:55:45 2013
Writer: Sorien
Date Mon Apr 8 07:41:59 2013
To All Austinian Katai Knighthood Imm RP Immortal
Subject Chapter 3 - The Knighthood Gladiator
"You want me to just throw these bombs? "
"Yes, that's right, Squire. Just throw them often, backstab, and if they
aren't hitting you, hit them back. Otherwise, wear a shield and take the
blows, " said the Lieutenant Katai, "You'll be fine. "
Sorien looked at the Lieutenant, he wore two highly enchanted pitch black
flaming longswords, and two flaming daggers ready. Katai stood with
confidence and poise. Sorien admired him.
The gates to the arena raised, and Sorien ran behind Katai... Throwing
bombs in every direction.
Writer: Tarsiel
Date Mon Apr 8 17:59:41 2013
Writer: Sorien
Date Mon Apr 8 18:38:50 2013
To All Austinian Keidor Knighthood Gwynn Imm RP Immortal
Subject Chapter 4 - The Exile
"It maybe, that soon, we no longer maybe welcome here, Sir"
Keidor MacGregor listened to Sorien, continually focused on the cauldron
before him. He added a splinter of wood, and a ball of light. "And? " he
replied to Sorien.
"My mentoring Knight has been... Affected. I am without a mentor. I see
no better suited than you. "
"I suppose... The warlock and the assassin, eh?" He smirked, adding in an
iron cannonball to the mixture. The raven on his shoulder cawed. "Very
well. "
Sorien nodded and smiled.
Writer: Sorien
Date Mon Apr 8 18:48:52 2013
To All Austinian Gwaine Knighthood Imm RP Immortal
Subject Chapter 5 - The Decommissioned
"You are hereby discharged from service, Sorien KilCannon. "
To Sorien, the words carried no sense of comfort, or release. It only
evoked sadness. Grabbing his belongings, he made his way to the exit. Past
the drawbridge, unto the worn path.
Looking back, he though of the men and women he knew from days past. To
him, Gareth would always stand as a testament to their work and struggle.
Leumas, Amargein, Gwynn, Hugh, Katai, Maelweys, Paleceron, and of course...
That crazy swashbuckler Ellery Actor.
Sorien wiped his eyes, then donned his mask tightly, running south.
Writer: Sorien
Date Mon Apr 8 19:20:53 2013
To All Slayers Austinian Olglit Zuej Imm Immortal RP
Subject Chapter 6 - The Greystoke Gladiator
"Twu dem snakie sassins und wun troll barburian, " Olglit said.
Sorien could tell the half ogre skald and the ogre armsman didn't expect
much from Sorien. "Wear your shield, and let them beat on you, Olglit.
Choke one of them. We'll be fine. " The two gladiators grunted in
annoyance simultaneously as the arena gates opened.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Zuej walked off the field, victorious against Bloodlust's last competitor,
the Troll. The two men looked at Sorien, covered in more blood then either
of them. Both grunted in turn... Most of the blood was from the Bloodlust
Team.
"Now nothing can stop us from first seed. " Sorien smiled broadly.
Writer: Sorien
Date Mon Apr 8 19:29:17 2013
To All Slayers Saurec Austinian Immortal RP
Subject Chapter 7 - The Dragon Slayer
"Arise, Sorien KilCannon! " screamed Overlord Saurec.
Sorien rose to his feet. Fire and pain burned through his veins. Power
coursed through his body. Every sense was heightened beyond mere mortal
comprehension.
Gripped in Sorien's right hand, a glistening dragonlance stood almost as
tall as him. It was not merely a weapon, but an extension of his being.
Sorien knew, things would never be the same.
Writer: Sorien
Date Mon Apr 8 20:45:19 2013
To All Austinian Arkane
Subject Chapter 8 - The Arkane Gladiator
"You want me to... Punch the dragon on the jaw? " Damerus questioned.
"Yes. I prefer your howling song... But if he's running, knock it down.
"
"It's a Dragon... It won't run. "
Sorien smiled broadly, "Only thing harder than killing a dragon... Is
trying to kill a running dragon. "
The gates of the arena slid upward. Sorien roared as he ran forward.
Writer: Dyas
Date Mon Apr 8 21:24:57 2013
Writer: Betha
Date Mon Apr 8 21:33:09 2013
Writer: Savenath
Date Mon Apr 8 23:08:46 2013
To Imm Kyri Rp All Dragon Knighthood Slayers Sorien
Subject Running Errands part 2
Savenath flew to the port with greed in his mind. The small thing
promised to bring what he desired. While making his slow descent into the
port he noticed Sorien waiting eagerly. He snorted a small blast of flame
in approval while gliding down to meet his new treasure.
"You have what I desired?"
Savenath sniffed the air slowly for any other presence of men. Sorien was
alone and Savenath looked more eager for his treasure.
Sorien removed the sword slowly and laid it before the great gold. Savenath
had a flicker of lust within his eyes staring at his new treasure. Quickly
the great breast picked up his new object and flew off. The human yelled
off something, yet the dragon flew on.
"Errands he shall receive"
Writer: Krista
Date Mon Apr 8 23:24:20 2013
Writer: Drobsek
Date Mon Apr 8 23:24:47 2013
Writer: Savenath
Date Mon Apr 8 23:32:08 2013
Writer: Drobsek
Date Tue Apr 9 07:12:04 2013
Writer: Drobsek
Date Tue Apr 9 07:12:16 2013
Writer: Drobsek
Date Tue Apr 9 08:13:07 2013
Writer: Krista
Date Tue Apr 9 10:10:18 2013
Writer: Krista
Date Tue Apr 9 10:17:38 2013
Writer: Cherrae
Date Tue Apr 9 14:02:41 2013
Writer: Savenath
Date Tue Apr 9 18:55:53 2013
To Imm Kyri Rp All Dragon Knighthood Slayers Sorien
Subject Running Errands part 3
A large sea creature was plucked from Puxnu'kiza ip Kupux and quickly
disappeared into the Golds mouth. Any sound of death was muffled with one
large gulp. Though the sea seemed calm, where the beast flapped his large
wings waves would form. The large proud creature eased into his landing
with grace and care as he entered his liar. He old castle shook slightly as
he stomped through it and heading to his treasure. With care Savenath
dropped three more shiny objects, the potions sparkled, and teased his eyes
for a moment.
"That small thing proves most useful."
It was not moments before Sorien had done what the gold required and fetched
him what he wanted. Savenath looked through his hoard and thought what he
could ask for next. Perhaps a small hatched one to eat or better a large
one such as himself.
He had laid out specific achievements for this new bothersome one. Savenath
snorted a large stream of flames against the sooty cobble stones.
"If he doesn't, I might just eat him myself."
Writer: Cesaus
Date Tue Apr 9 20:38:44 2013
To Zandreya Shalonesti_kingdom All ( Imm Religion RP )
Subject Time spent within the forests - prayer of thanks to Zandreya
Perched on a thick branch high above the floor of the forest, Cesaus
watched as a panther snuck slightly upon a young deer. It did not take long
for the panther to finish the kill and begin to feed. Cesaus' eyes did not
leave the mighty cat as he whispered a quiet prayer, knowing that this was
the way of the forest. Each the cat and the deer a gift from Zandreya each
blessed in their own ways, yet this time it was the cat who came out the
victory. Time and Time again Cesaus watched as the deer spotted or heard
the cat before it could strike. As the panther finished eating and made
it's way back into the forest Cesaus smiled leaning back against the huge
trunk of the tree.
More often in the recent months Cesaus found himself wondering about the
forest enjoying All of the sights and sounds it had to offer. It was about
a week ago that he found the tree that he now rested upon, venturing only to
find food or water Cesaus felt this was the prefect place for him to
meditate. The leaves of the canopy moving with the breeze, every so often
the calls of various animals could be heard off in the distance. A small
squirrel even made it's way up to the branch to inspect Cesaus as he sat
still trying not to scare the guest away.
"Thank you Zandreya for such beauty. " was All Cesaus whispered as the
squirrel jumped to a nearby branch and vanished into the forest.
Writer: Sorien
Date Tue Apr 9 21:25:38 2013
To Austinian All Kuromaru
Subject Chapter 9 - The Repentant
"What would you say, if you knew that some Metallics supported you,
despite your desire to destroy them mercilessly? " the Abbott declared in
retort to Sorien.
Sorien had no reply. He stared at Kuromaru dumbfounded, as if a troll
barbarian had hilt thrusted him.
"That they would support me, despite my aggression? " Sorien thought to
himself.
Bewildered, Sorien fled... The heavy weight on his heart nearly unbearable.
Writer: Sorien
Date Tue Apr 9 21:31:34 2013
To All Austinian Aethan
Subject Chapter 10 - The Redemptive Work
"Butterflies, gnomes, fairies... And kender? " Aethan said, half
laughing.
"Yes, Squire Bedrydant, this area is the special crafted -nightmare- for the
Dungeon. Uniquely designed by Fatale, just for them, " Sorien said while
chuckling. A gnome ran up to Sorien, offering up a hug. Sorien embraced
the gnome warmly, "I did need a hug, thank you. "
The two continued through the grassy fields... Until a large Sivak
Draconian was visible over the horizon.
The two men ran towards the silhouette, weapons drawn.
Writer: Hanon
Date Tue Apr 9 23:21:15 2013
To All slayers wargar chaos solvaryn ankabasanu kallinth ptxauin sorien nordmaar cherrae imm rp
Subject Explo'rationz 1 the Watcher
Hanon had been wondering what this day would fortell his eyes focused he
set out on his exile that would be his to see for himself. After All this
time serving as different crafts for different sellswords it would come to
this a journey into unknown lands to prove his loyalty to protecting
algoron. This was Hanon's resole, it was etched in him as a determination
one that he adopted after having not many others, being a drifter from
shokono shores. Defeating everything was his way of life from an early age,
he did not think it too many to defeat. However here now he was sent alone
to foreign lands, what would he find.
He stepped upon the grass of the newlands and rememberance struck a strange
discord into his memories, as if walking in a dream he walked to a gate were
he spoke with someone shortly after he wrote a note to his Overlord and
Council There were strange goings on, information if true from this person
meant that Chaos was creating some trouble, some big trouble. Abhorrents
bodies taken in the middle of the night, the tombs of graves robbed
sacriledged. This was indeed an interesting exploration but what was more
interesting was the shape of design the people wore. Something in the
design stirred memories of faraway lands and glorious deeds.
Hanon concluded his business in the faraway city and moved to were he would
begin his explorations, but there was another a Watcher following Word soon
formed in Hanon's ears, Where do you go, What do you seek the words became
questioning, but there was no one there...
Moving to find a safer place to camp the night the voices continued, until
it was evident that the watcher had not left but was there. I seek
questions and answers Hanon, spoke out to the darkness. Then let us talk
replied the cool level tone of the Watcher.
That night as he fell asleep on his small rock he thought to himself the
land felt right under his feet, and he remember, . The village people, had
had hair just like his...
Writer: Aelysse
Date Wed Apr 10 06:39:04 2013
Writer: Omyris
Date Wed Apr 10 06:44:06 2013
Writer: Hanon
Date Wed Apr 10 09:49:44 2013
To All slayers wargar chaos solvaryn ankabasanu kallinth ptxauin sorien nordmaar cherrae imm rp
Subject Explo'rationz 2 the Mists
The days were cold and bleek and the nights were colder. This oddly did
not bother Hanon. Looking about the mystical glade and forest Hanon felt a
peace he had not for a long time, a natural comfort and ease. Ay this is a
good country a good land Hanon had always felt out of place wereever he had
travelled before thus earning him the nickname Solo. Hanon had lived in
many cities but none had quite felt right before, this land however was
different it called to him through its beings. He scratched his thick
matted and shoggy black hair and touched a tattoo of the celtic knotwork on
his arm, finally he had found the source of these marks on his body.
This land was its origin and they called it Nordmaar. Suddenly there was a
noise from the bushes Bad tidings, bad tidings Hanon looked into the
darkness, Is that you watcher? Did you find what I was saying to be true?
Hanon spoke uncertainly into the night air. It is, I trust the information
you request about Cliath's most prized creation is fair exchange Hanon
smirked thinking it folly to trust any that could merely peer into anothers
skull for answers and looked dubiously into the aethers. Cliath's
protection and help might just aid me and my commarades yet Hanon said
outloud awaiting the words of the Watcher Silence was the reply as Hanon
removed a square of fabric made up of squared lines, he opened up a can of
the local specialty and started munching on it slowly. .. Haggis?
Everything about this land seemed as if a dream, as if a far away land that
Hanon had always believed in existed. He looked up at the night sky and the
full moon. This was the land of his parents he knew it, no other city had
people with matt black shoggy hair and green and blue ogham glyphs, Hanon
pulled out the square of fabric again and munching the haggis looked at the
old crib blanket his mother had given him carefully.
Writer: Hanon
Date Wed Apr 10 10:49:57 2013
To All nordmaar slayers wargar chaos solvaryn ankabasanu kallinth ptxauin sorien cherrae imm rp
Subject Explo'rationz 2 the Stone Wing
Up here thousands of miles up even the ground looked small, mists swirled
below covering the landscape of this wild and dangerous land. Curses this
place is not much fun Hanon thought to himself as he sat upon the shoulder
of the gigantic stone monument. Burning questions drived in Hanons hear
that he wanted desperately answered, but could go nowhere his solitude was
an oath a loyal bond of words to his Captain and Overlord and Keep that he
would not forsake for selfish curiosity. Even if that question did solve
who mr Solo was.
A loud piercing scream echoed the airs. Hanon look down unconcerned having
well grown use to the sounds of the gigantic creatures. Moving down into
the valley and past the master and chambers Hanon moved his way out of the
misted lands. At last it was soon time to return home but not before going
into that grand place one more time, the city on the hill that praised
Cliath's name The same name that the Watcher had spoken about, how strange
and interconnected fate was to bring him to this strange place in time, his
faith was impressed by the Watchers abilities..... But not enough.
Hanon flipped over the material and looked at the common insignia of the
horned creature and the words above, Hold Fast. Hold Fast to what Hanon
thought, he had never known anything but plunder since his tutelage by
Kaernis Amdis the Yaenni Slave trader that had taken him as a boy Hanon had
always disliked the yaenni for that, how they had treated the humans and
other beings. He flipped over the patch again and ran the familiar colors
through his hand again, memorising them, Black and Yellow.. With Red.
Before he returned to the Manor he would meet the King of this Fabled City
and speak to him about his Mysterious Father and the patch
Writer: Sorien
Date Wed Apr 10 14:01:49 2013
To All Savenath Austinian
Subject Chapter 11 - The Dragon Rider
"Let us go to Icewall, Firstborne? " Sorien asked respectfully.
Savenath nodded once, lowering a wing. Sorien deftly climbed up the massive
dragon.
The duo flew into the village from the west, with the sun behind their back.
The two training Greystoke members could not see them approach. Sorien
lowered his lance, and Savenath gave a mighty push with his wings towards
their prey.
The clash of metal, the smashing sound of concrete, and screams were heard.
Savenath rose into the sky with a mighty roar. Two blood stains left on the
village street.
Writer: Crystallis
Date Wed Apr 10 22:01:57 2013
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 01:26:40 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Necrucifer )
Subject :: New Beginnings ::
Stepping into the Room of Healing within the Verminasian Temple, his
mind continued to race with All the information he received not many
moments before his arrival. The neat gash on his left hand was still
quite open, the blood continuing to flow, albeit much slower now. He
saw the vision in his mind quite clearly : The Castellan uttering the
words of the Oath, his repeating them, and then the absolute and
complete utter pleasure as her blade dug deep into the flesh of his
exposed hand, slitting the skin with ease.
Inadvertantly, he licked his lips as his body began to tremble. He
knew not how long he remained there, staning before the Healer but
not making use of her. When he came out of his trance, a small pool
of crimson had formed at his feet. The Healer was looking at him
incredously - thinking him an idiot, no doubt. "Sir, would you like
me to heal the wound?" She repeated for what had to be the tenth
time.
He regarded her quietly through his obsidian gaze, before replying
with a smile. "This is a wound of Oath. It must heal on its own,
though I thank you for the offer." Removing a large cloth from the
pack at his side, he knelt down and cleaned up the pool of blood,
not stopping until the floor was spotless once more. Stowing the
soiled cloth away, he rose up gracefully and dipped his head to the
Healer.
"I have work to do."
Writer: Crystallis
Date Thu Apr 11 01:33:36 2013
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 01:57:21 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: New Beginnings Part II :: Final
A few days had passed since his expulsion from Abaddon. The entire
matter with the Dead Kingdom continued to baffle him, but he gave it about
as much thought as he would a fly on the wall. The Count was enthralled
with his wife, and continued to, in grand fashion, alienate many of the men
and women that made Abaddon great. According to others, Ayzrael was not the
first to be expelled, and at this rate he'd be far from the last.
Yet, everything happens for a reason.
He was settling into his own here in Verminasia. He had met many good men
and woman of the Dark, men and women who did not place petty desires and
childish prejudices before the work of the Lord. He remembered the words
spoken to him : "If you serve the Dark, you will have a home here in
Verminasia."
The day was quite eventful - he had learned much from the Bishop Liviya
Madaur, from the King Marcaus Madaur, and of course, from the Castellan. It
did not take him long to settle on a guild that he knew he would take great
pleasure in serving. He was young, and horribly inexperienced, this much he
knew. Yet there were men and women here in this Kingdom who would teach him
what he needed to know. Already the lessons had began. From the Bishop, to
the Legend, and many others in between.
He had new meaning. He had new purpose. Today was the start of a new day.
Soon she would join him within the Dark Kingdom, and he would be able to
keep his promise to her mother. An entire new life awaited him : he would
sweep everything else under the rug and simply forget about it. Nothing in
his past was worth his time. There was much to do in the here and the now.
Finishing his prayer before the statue of Fatale, Ayzrael climbed to his
feet and checked his weaponry. Satisfied All was in place, he drew the hood
of his cloak over his head and headed for the exit. It was time to honor
the God of Death. As he crossed the threshold, the air chilled and a voice
spoke softly,
"Ware your pride, avoid the pitfalls, serve well and you're going to go far."
Writer: Crystallis
Date Thu Apr 11 02:27:18 2013
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 06:15:27 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part One ::
"If you're heading out, I've an errand for you to run."
Ayzrael lifted his thin black brow and turned to face his Guildmaster. In
all the time he had trained as an Assassin, the Guildmaster had never spoke
- ever. He did All his instructing and teaching through action. Regarding
the Guildmaster with suspicion, Ayzrael removed the hood of his cloak.
"You have taught me All that I know, and have much more to offer. If there
is any way I may be of service, it will be an honor."
The old Guildmaster met Ayzrael's piercing blue eyes with his own shadowy
grey, his scared lips twisting upwards at the sides in a downright devilish
smirk. "Lesson seven hundred and twelve. Never be too hasty in agreeing to
something, especially when you do not know the details."
The Guildmaster moved over to his desk, and withdrew a small black box from
a locked drawer. Placing the box on the desk, he waved his hand over the
rune on top of it, the familiar soft clicking sound filling the air as it
came unlocked. "An old friend contacted me earlier today. It seems that he
has run into a bit of a problem."
Ayzrael moved over to join the Guildmaster at the desk. He waited for
permission to sit, and upon receiving it, settled down upon the cushioned
chair. "What kind of a problem?" He inquired, removing the brace of
throwing daggers from his side. Placing the brace upon the desk, Ayzrael
began to inspect each self-made blade.
"Having served Necrucifer for many, many years, my old friend, whom we shall
from this point forward call Bob," the Guildmaster paused to offer a
chuckle, "was awarded with a small parcel of land. The land itself is
nothing fancy, in fact, it is almost wild. It is filled to the brim with
tree, fern, brush, and more importantly, a rather large bear."
Ayzrael continued to inspect the blades in the throwing brace as he
listened, comitting each word to memory. It was a gift he was born with.
No matter how simple, or how detailed a conversation was, he had the ability
to recall things said, in great detail. Some thought it was the tattooed
jewel of blood on his forehead that enabled him to do so. He was unsure,
himself.
"Bob has hired a few farmhands to begin to clear the land, that it may be
prepared for crops and the like." The Guildmaster continued quietly,
removing from the black box a single parchment. "The first day of clearing
out the land, the crew was attacked by this bear. Seven lost their lives.
The workers are refusing to do what they have been hired to do. This is
unacceptable, for in addition to being a land that may one day provide our
troops with valuable food from crop, it will also serve as a headquarters to
the Guild."
Ayzrael nodded quietly to show the Guildmaster that he was indeed,
listening. He fingered each ebony hilt of each dagger, before withdrawing
all, one by one, and testing the edge of the blade against his thumb. "Your
objective is thus : Slay the bear." The Guildmaster smiled, and held up a
forefinger. "Your secondary objective is to choose one of the farmhands,
and make an example out of him or her, that the others know that no matter
what threat they might face from nature, they aught to fear the wrath of the
Servants of Darkness moreso. In this you have free reign. Use your
imagination."
Returning the last dagger to its home upon the brace, Ayzrael climbed
gracefully to his feet. He equipped the brace of throwing daggers, and
reached out to take the offered parchment. After a thorough once over,
Ayzrael moved to the fireplace and tossed the parchment within, watching as
it turned to ash. This small action earned him an approving nod from the
Guildmaster. Rule one was simple. Never leave a trail.
"I will set out at once. Darkness keep you."
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 07:09:38 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Two :: The Bear ::
The Dark of the Night's sky had taken the throne from the sun. The
bright ball of light was struggling, in vain, to bath the world in the last
of its glow, but the Dark was quickly closing in. The result was a deep,
reddish orange glow that remained for a few minutes, before fading away all
together.
It was night. His favorite time.
Ayzrael moved through the wood quietly, carefully. He was not quite as able
as other Assassin's yet, who could move fluidly through any type of terrain
without making a sound. He was not at that level yet, and so was forced to
pick his footsteps carefully, moving, not flat footed as most normal people
would, but on the very tips of his toes. As quiet as he tried to be, the
denizens of the wood seemed intent to carry on - loudly. The cry of the
cricket, the howl of the wolf. The buzzing of the fly, the howl of the
monkey's that had yet to take to slumber. He thought being out in the
middle of nowhere, miles away from civilation would mean peace and quiet :
He could not be more wrong.
Turning his mind to the task at hand, Ayzrael went over his plan for the
massive bear. Trying to fight it head on was a fools move, that much was
plain. The teeth on the beasts, from the Rangers account were deadly by
themselves : but if the teeth were bad, the claws were worse. Add to that
the bear must weigh over a ton, and the sum of the problem equaled trouble.
Plain and simple.
Consulting the small hand drawn map of the wood he had received from 'Bob',
Ayzrael marked the location of the only stream nearby. Slightly altering
his path, his ears soon picked out the sound of rushing water, and after
another few minutes of walking, he spied it. He would confront the bear
near here, he knew. It was a simple matter, really : All living things
needed water to survive. Whether or not the bear would come to the stream
was not the question : The question was, quite simply, when.
Ayzrael, having made his way down to the stream stood at its edge. He began
to study the tracks upon the ground. Using his sense of smell, he headed
toward the direction of rotting fish. Finding those, he in turn found the
bears tracks : massive things too, they were. After that particular
discovery, All that was left was to follow them to the bears little
hidey-hole. About a half a mile from the stream he came across a new scent
: the stench of fur and feces.
"Fatale help me, but bears stink to high heaven." He muttered quietly as he
continued along, making absolutely no sound. His piercing blue eyes studied
the terrain carefully, and soon he spotted it. A massive, massive tree sat
lonely in a clearing, almost as if All other trees were afraid to grow near
this one. It was long since dead, but still towered high into the air.
Into the far side of its massive trunk was a wide gaping hole. Positioning
himself downwind, Ayzrael approached with utmost caution. He need not come
too close - for before his eyes, as plain as you or I could see the sun,
Ayzrael seen the bear. A massive, massive beast covered in blackish-brown
fur.
Inadvertantly, Ayzrael gasped, only managing to cover his mouth just in the
nick of time. Before him sat the biggest bear he had ever seen, ever heard
about, for that matter. And its beady yellow eyes were looking right at
him.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 20:10:12 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Three :: Illusions ::
His breath caught, every muscle in his body becoming tense. He dared not
even breath, lest his breath in the cold night be seen. There was no
mistake - the bear was looking right at him with its beady yellow eyes.
Recalling the layout of the area, Ayzrael knew there was nowhere he could
run. If he made a break for it, the bear would easily catch up with him,
and so Ayzrael did nothing.
The seconds seemed to pass agonizingly slow : indeed, he could not tell how
much time elapsed as he held position perfectly not even a twitch offered.
There was no way to keep track of the time, but he must have been there for
quite long, as his muscles began to burn. And still the bear did not take
its eyes off him - not once. He was locked in a deadly staring game with
the beast. His very survival depended on him. If he moved, he was dead.
It was as simple as that.
As he waited, he went over every single possible scenario in his head.
Thinking of ways he might be able to break free of his predicament, a way
that he would come out - alive. Hours passed, and still neither opponent
was ready to give up. Yet, Ayzrael knew if this kept up, he would lose.
Every muscle in his body was screaming, sweat trickled down his brow freely
despite the cold. As the first of the suns rays crested over the horizon,
Ayzrael was able to see the bear much more clearly.
Just as his legs were about to fail him, just as he was about to fall to the
ground below, something clicked in his mind. The bear had been as still as
he. In fact, it was even stiller then he. In fact, the bear did not blink
once during the whole ordeal. In fact... The bear was not breathing. As
Ayzrael's knees gave out from underneath him, as he hit the floor, utterly
spent and exhausted, he realized the simple truth.
The Bear was long dead.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 20:13:10 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Four :: Questions ::
As he lay open the cold ground, every muscle in his body screaming out in
utter agony he forced himself to center his mind. He was of course upset
that he spent nearly All night staring down the massive bear he had been
sent to kill. Madder still that the damn thing was dead, while at the same
time relieved that it was, for if it was not, /he/ would surely be dead. He
inhaled deeply of the cold mornings air for five seonds. He held the breath
for seven seconds. He exhaled to a count of five seconds. He did this
repeatedly, and almost at once he could feel his mind clear.
There were many questions that he must find the answers to, he knew. Yet he
would discover nothing if he continued to lay down upon the wood's floor.
With a groan of pain, he climbed to his feet, dusted himself off, and began
to inspect his surroundings. The difference that the sun made was too great
to ignore. It was as if he had stepped into a new world. After his initial
scan, he turned and headed towards the dead bears lair. As he reached the
cave, he shook his head in wonder. The old dead tree provided the very best
natural home for the beast. Then there was the beast itself.
He knew the massive bear to be dead, and still he was tense. His adrenaline
began to pump as his heart beat faster and faster. Reaching out with
shaking hand, he let it hover a few feet from the top of the bears head.
Just as he was about to place his hand down, he thought better of it.
Instead, he withdrew the thick bolt knife from his sheath and without pause,
skewered the bear right through its skull, deep down into its brain.
"Better to be safe then sorry..."
He whispered. Grabbing the hilt of the blade, he pulled back, forcing the
dead jaws of the massive bear to open wide. This was a beast indeed. Its
fangs were as long as his hand. Its massive paws bigger then his head. Two
times over. And its weight... It had to be well over a ton of pure,
unmitigated, raw power. Still shaking his head in disbelief, Ayzrael set
about discovering what it was that actually killed the brute. He could see
no visible wounds. None at all. He turned back to searching its home, and
once again, turned up nothing.
He searched for hours, and yet he could not, for the life of him, find out
what in the seven hells had killed this beast. With a soft sigh, he
returned to the beast. 'Bob' and the Guildmaster both would want proof that
the beast wasa slain. No one had been out this way, he knew, and those
stupid enough to actually tread tis path were in the beasts belly. He could
simply tell Bob and the Guildmaster that he had slain the beast. Claim the
bounty and the prestige, and none would be the wiser.
As he forced the bears massive maw open again intent on pulling out the
teeth needed, he spotted it. Right in the center of the beasts massive
tongue was symbol that burned the color of blood. It was a very familiar
symbol : for it was the symbol of Fatale. The Scythe and the Hourglass.
Furrowing his brow, not being able to make any sense of it all, he set about
pulling the fangs out of the bears maw.
Stowing the teeth in his pouch, Ayzrael stepped out of the bears lair and
into the midday sun. He would be treking back with far more questions then
answers. Of course, the secondary objective awaited him - he only hoped
there were no surprises like today.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 20:56:13 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Five :: Reprieve ::
He had a few moments to himself. That much he knew. The farmhands would
not work - not until firm word of the beasts demise was sent. He could take
a few hours, at least. Nodding thoughtfully, he made his way down towards
the stream, whistling a soft, gentle tune that the birds high above in the
treetops seemed to fancy, because they finally... Finally... He thought to
himself, 'Actually shut the hell up for once! ' His mood greatly improved,
Ayzrael soon found the stream.
As he stood at the waters edge, he breathed in the fresh air. Looking down
into the crystal clear liquid below, he gasped. Such marvelous beauty.
Salmon were swimming up river, no doubt to spawn. He watched some leap
straight out of the water to leap over rocks in their path. Others still
glided gracefully under those same obstacles. He was no Zandreyan, but even
he could see the beauty in this : perhaps moreso because he was starving,
and those fat little fish were going to make a fine meal.
Turning about, he pulled off his leather bracers, his studded leather
jerkin, vest, boots, trousers and socks. Setting his weaponry untop the
pile of clothing, he gathered a few dead tree branches, laid them out, and
in no time at all, had a lovely little fire going. He watched quietly as
the flames danced back and forth, his mind still racing after the curious
events of this morning.
Well, it was no secret how the bear had gotten to that size. The stream
below was a veritable feast. Add to that a small side diet of shoots and
berries, and the occassional human or two, or seven, and you had the makings
of one bad ass bear. Still, that did not answer the most important
question. Who killed the damn thing?
Shaking his head as if in an attempt to shed the question, he made his way
down to the stream and as quick as you please, caught three large salmon by
hand. A quick slap of their heads upon a rock, and they were good to go.
The first fish he ate raw, savoring the rich fat and oil of the watery
beast. Waiting for him as an extra bonus were the fish eggs inside. These
too, he ate greedily.
When he had eaten his fill, he took the other two fish back to his small
campsite and gutted and cleaned them. Grabbing a few thick leaves from
tree, he mmade a thick cusion, placed the fish untop, wrapped them in more
of the leaves, and placed them on the fire to cook. Satisfied with his
work, he returned to the stream. A bit of the way to the north, the water
was free of fish. Slipping inside of it, he relished the feel of the cool
water on his bare skin, a wonderous contrast to the beaming sun on his back.
After cleaning himself, he simply lay back in the water, his mind again
returning to the bear, and the symbols of Fatale upon the bears tongue.
After a few minutes, he came to the conclusion that this one was one he
would need some help solving. He knew just where to start, too. With a
renewed sense of hope, he climbed out of the waters, in his 'birthday' suit,
feeling almost one with his surroundings.
As he made his way back to his camp, thinking of the meal that awaited him,
enjoying the beautiful breeze All around him, and specifically way down
yonder, he began to whistle happily. This was turning out to be a perfect
day.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 21:24:46 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Six :: Trickster ::
Lost in his own little word, Ayzrael made his way back to his camp,
smiling to himself. Small breaks like this were needed. Every good servant
deserved them. The sun was still high in the sky, but in a few hours, it
would again, as in times eternal, lose its battle to the Dark. Before long,
the sweet smell of freshly baked fish filled his nostrils and his mouth
began to water. As he turned the bend and reached his campsite, he suddenly
became aware of a few things, All at once.
1. He was stark naked.
2. His weaponry and clothing were gone.
3. A red-headed woman dressed in tight leather was at his fire.
4. The bitch was eating his fish.
5. The bitch was eating his fish.
"What in the seven hells are you doing?!" Ayzrael screamed, breaking into a
run as he charged at the red-headed woman. Twas, perhaps, a sight to
behold, something Bards might sing about for years to come. The vision of a
young, strong, muscled man running in the sun, water dripping off his body,
hair flying in the wind behind him. The red headed woman who was, quite
rudely, I might add, finishing off the last of Ayzrael's fish seemed
mesmerized for a few moments, her eyes locked on one spot, and one spot
only.
Ayzrael was going to rip her head off. His cheeks began to flush with color
as he caught her eye and saw where she was looking - and then she unleashed
her secret weapon. She licked her lips. In mid stride, Ayzrael stumbled
over his own two feet, went crashing head first into a rather prickly bush,
and was rendered absolutely helpless. As he lay there, groaning, needles
and barbs poking him in several umentionable places, he had but one thought
for that red-headed she devil.
She was sexy.
Growling at his own lack of discipline, Ayzrael pulled himself out of the
bush, cerulean eyes scanning about as he searched for the girl. Had she not
giggled at the sight of a filthy, naked man covered in shrubbery, he might
never have found her. Yet she did, and so he did. She was perched upon a
low hanging branch, just over the fire he had built. Lifting his hand,
Ayzrael shook his fist at the girl. "When I catch you, I am going to tear
that pretty little head off your pretty little shoulders."
Again, the girl laughed. "Aww, so you think I am pretty do you? Yet pray
tell, my noble Assassin without the assin, how can you do any of that
without weaponry or clothing?" The question caught Ayzrael off guard, and
for the first time in a long time, he was flustered. And he knew it. The
look on his face spoke volumes, even if he did not utter a single word.
From her perch upon the branch, the little red-head giggled once more, and
waved her hand. The air shimmered before Ayzrael's feet, and All of his
belongings materialized. Never taking his eyes off the girl, Ayzrael
stooped low and found his clothing, which he pulled on quickly. Lastly, he
strapped on his weaponry, and narrowed his eyes as turned to face the
red-headed girl.
She was gone.
Standing there, completely dumbfounded, Ayzrael did the only thing he could
do. He screamed. "I'll catch you, you little thieving wench! You ate my
damn fish!" All at once, the gentle giggle of the red-headed girl echoed
all around him, and she spoke, in her softest voice, a voice that came to
him from nowhere and everywhere, at once.
"You cannot hope to catch a Goddess."
Suddenly, Ayzrael woke up. Glancing around nervously, he checked to make
sure he had All his belongings. After several moments of controlled panic,
he made sure everything was in place, and it was. Glancing over to the
fire, two wrapped fish rested upon the coals. Blinking, Ayzrael shook his
head. It must had been a dream...
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 22:22:14 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Seven :: Preparation ::
His mood darkened considerably, Ayzrael marched through the wood,
following the stream. That dream, if it indeed, was a dream, had jarred
him. He was half annoyed for being portrayed as a blubbering idiot within
his own damn mind, but was even more annoyed that the red-head was not real,
but some figment of his imaginaton. Add to that the mystery surrounding the
bear and the symbols of Fatale, and it All equaled one very pissed off
Ayzrael.
The sun was beginning to fade, quite clearly visible from the straining
final rays that sought to bathe the land in their warmth. They would of
course, succumb to the Darkness, and when that happened, Ayzrael's mood
would lift once more. The Dark is where he felt at home. It was his
element. It was his life.
As he continued to follow the stream, he soon spied the encapment where the
farmhands had set up shop. It was a simple setup. Two makeshift homes,
thrown together with spare logs. A rather large bonfire in the center of
the camp, and a pair of lookout's stationed at the camps edge. No doubt
they wanted to be on guard after the bear carried off seven of them.
Kneeling behind a fallen log, Ayzrael watched quitely. He studied the
movement patterns of the guards, he took stock of the location where the
others slept, even going so far as to measure how many times the sentry on
the left urinated. Seemed to Ayzrael the poor man had a problem holding it
in. Wonder what that could be...
Stifling a light chuckle, Ayzrael began to forumate a plan. To begin, he
did not want to kill of the farmhands. That would be detrimental to the
mission. Kill the farmhands, and there'd be no one left to do the work.
No, he must only kill one. In a grand fashion. This went against
everything that the Assassin was - he was used to picking a concealed spot
and firing a poisoned arrow, or hurling a well placed dagger throw. Yet,
what Bob, and what the Guildmaster wanted here was something for shock
value.
As time moved forward, as the dark deepened, the wood grew eerily quiet.
Shock value. Shock value. Shock value. He repeated the words to himself
quietly. Yet despite how hard he tried to focus, his mind kept drifting
back to the beast-bear, and the markings on its tongue. The Hourglass. The
Scythe. The Hourglass. The Scythe. The Ho... Abrubtly Ayzrael sat up
straight. His mind began to go into overdrive. He had an idea.
Grinning to himself, he slipped back into the wood and found large piece of
wood. Removing a knife from his boot, he began to whittle away. It was
about midnight now - the carving should only take him about an hour. As he
worked and worked, the shape soon began to take form. Soon satisfied with
his work, he joined the two pieces together. Holding the tool up to the
moonlight, he nodded in approval. He had his scythe. Peeling off his pack,
and most of his other weaponry, save the dagger at his waist, he donned his
cloak. Before drawing the hood over his head, he scooped up handfuls of
moist dirt and rubbed them over his pale skin. Satisfied, he drew the hood
up and over his head, pulling it as low as it would go.
Turning towards the small encapment he grinned. This should be fun.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 11 22:29:16 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Eight :: The Deed ::
He waited until the man with the watering problem went to relieve
himself. Tucked away behind a screen of brush debri, Ayzrael made use of a
rather neat skill he picked up from the Guildmaster. One that had largely
fell out of use these days. Ventriloquate. As the man began to relieve
himself, Ayzrael went to work.
"Hhh.. Hheelp meee!" He called out. The man raised his head and looked
all about, his eyes filled with worry - and fear. "Wwh.. Whhoo's there?!"
The man demanded in a hush whisper, almost as if he was hoping that he would
not receive an answer. "Uuugggh... The bearr... Itt... Ate my legg, and
mmy... My arm! Heelp mee!" Ayzrael watched from his hiding place as the
man almost leaped out of his pants. He lost hold of his tool, and
waterworks dance All through the air, most landing on the poor mans shirt
and trousers.
At this point, Ayzrael almost blew the entire operation. The sight was
quite funny to behold - especially after what he just went through in that
damn infernal dream. Yet, he caught himself, and once again took on the
voice of an older man, "Iiit hurttss! Hheelp mee. I ccaant make iitt
crawwling withh one arm and leg!" At this point, Ayzrael began to shift
some of the debri around him to create the false sense that someone was
actually moving through the brush.
The sentry, having fixed himself, took a tentative step forward, eyes
scanning about. "Where are you old man?" He called nervously. The first
few steps away from the bonfire were the worst for the sentry, but once he
began to move, his footsteps became more and confident. Pretty soon, he was
directly in front of Ayzrael. "Where are you old man?!" The sentry called
out into the night. At the exact same moment that the sentry began to call
out again, Ayzrael stuck his hand out from his hiding place and grasped the
mans leg. The scream that followed was both right and wrong.
It was right because it had alerted the other sentry on duty, and he did
what any other sentry would do when his mate was in trouble. He ran right
into the encampment building, screaming for help. It was wrong because
Ayzrael could not help but notice that the grown man with the pissing
problem sounded just like a girl. Stifling yet another laugh, the
adrenaline now coursing through his veins, Ayzrael rose up, dragging with
him the wooden scythe, head covered by the wide hood.
He did not utter a single word - this was now business. Turning the
struggling man around Ayzrael calmy grabed hold of his jaw and jerked hard
to the left, filling the with the crackling sound of bone. He did this, of
course, in full view of the farmhands who came piling out of their lodgings,
but who were All too frightened to do anything. Ayzrael forced the dead man
to his knees, and tilted his back whilst forcing his mouth open.
Lifting the scythe on high, he sent it hurtling downward, jamming it deep
into the mans mouth so hard that it came out mans back, just shy of the
backbone. Anchoring the protruding tip into the earth, he left the man
there, on his knees, impaled. The farmhands were screaming now, at the top
of their lungs. They knew not what to do. Raising his hand in a slow,
jerking motion, Ayzrael pointed to the farmhands. "Complete yourr worrk,
orr diee." With that, he stepped back and faded into the brush once more,
out of sight. As he moved to retrieve his stowed belongs, three words
filled the air, on the lips of every single farmhand, spoken with terror.
"The Black Reaper!"
Writer: Hanon
Date Thu Apr 11 23:44:11 2013
To All nordmaar slayers wargar chaos solvaryn ankabasanu kallinth ptxauin sorien tybrius imm rp
Subject Explo'rationz 4 the Rose
As he entered the city he gazed upon the huge monument to Cliath and a
shiver ran through his bones. He walked slowly down the road towards the
village a bag of bones clinking in his leather satchel as he walked. There
was no doubt about it this land was indeed the inheritance of Hanon's
inheritance. The land seemed familiar but not, even the weapons bore the
same marks that his fathers blade had carried. The news about the power of
Cliath had made Hanon even more mindful as he stepped inside the city gates.
Im not sure that damned watcher would be too pleased, not that it matters
much He thought to himself thoughtfully walking down the streets. Hanon's
northern style gear did well to fit in, being pleased that his thoughts for
weapons and clothing were shared amongst the people. The Guards looked at
him carefully at the sight of the new face and turned to each other
questioningly as he made his way to the Black Rose.
Tis MacLeod. Hanon thought to himself and his parents both deceased while
fighting some horrendous war against the yaenni, Hanon's mind swirled at the
idea that his upbringing by the Yaenni Master Assassin and enslavement had
meant, and were it had originated. Kaernis Amdis the slavetrader had
admittedly taught him well, but he had also tortured the boy and used him in
pit fighting. From a young age the trader had always told Hanon his parents
were eaten by Demons and Vampires, otherworldly creatures. This had driven
Hanon to learn more about his past a nd who he was. Hanon nodded slowly and
thought back to the lengthy conversation that had taken place with the King
and himself understanding very well All that had been said.
'Aye, I kin do tha Tybrius
and with that began ordering rounds of haggis and some very strong liquor
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Fri Apr 12 16:23:26 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Nine :: Report ::
"Ayzrael De'Sol."
The Guildmaster spoke his name as he entered the training quarter intent on
reporting his success in the mission he was assigned. Also intent on
getting a few answers to the many questions that were raised during his
little excursion. He made his way to the blackened desk and sat down
opposite the Guildmaster, delving his hand into the pouch at his side and
withdrawing the over sized fangs from the bear.
"So, how did you manage to kill the bear, Ayzrael De'Sol?" The Guildmaster
asked, breaking the silence of the training room. Ayzrael began to turn one
of the large fangs over in his hand, his mind working in bounds and leaps.
He could of course lie to the Guildmaster, and create some elaborate story
where he managed to best the bear. If he did that, he would receieve the
reward, as well as the prestige. Yet, something was giving him pause.
"Yet those are obviously the fangs from the beast, are they not?"
Ayzrael lifted his cerulean gaze to meet the Masters grey eyes. "When I
arrived on the land, I began to scout. It was not very long before I picked
up the bears trail. I followed it back to the beasts cave, which was an
enormous hole dug into the back of an ancient tree. I saw the bear, laying
there, and thought it saw me, so I waited, daring not to move. The bear
waited, as well."
Ayzrael studied the Masters face as he relayed his tale in detail, leaving
nothing out. "As the bear was already dead, I inspected it for signs of how
it was killed, that I might learn who completed the act. I found nothing,
save the symbol of Fatale upon its tongue."
The Guildmaster nodded as he listened, giving no indication that he was the
least bit surprised. As Ayzrael watched, he suddenly knew that the Master
knew already All about the bear - quite possibly even having dispatched the
beast himself. This was a test. The Master probably wanted to find out if
he was one of those who would take credit for anothers work - or one who
took pride in claiming only his own work.
"And the rest of the mission?"
"After the bear, I thought to get a few hours of rest, that I might tackle
the farmhands in the night. I set up camp and the most peculiar thing
happened." Here, Ayzrael suddenly paused. A rather peculiar feeling
overcame him, and for some reason, he suddenly knew he should not speak of
the dream of the Goddess - if a dream it was. His words smooth, he offered
a disarming smile and offered the lie. "I came across a stream of breeding
salmon. I thougt it peculiar because I heard the spawned in the winter."
The Guildmaster laughed and shook his head, amused by Ayzrael's seemingly
lack of knowledge. Ayzrael continued. "Anyhow, I refreshed myself, grabbed
a bite to eat, and set out. I found the farmhands encampment with no
trouble. As you bid, I thought of a way to kill one of the men in such a
way that the others were shocked and scared into working."
Ayzrael continued to relay his tale to the Master, who nodded at the end.
Smiling in approval, the Guildmaster withdrew a small leather bag which was
full of solid gold coin. "Your payment. Now that I have guaged your
dedication to the Way of the Shadow, the real work shall begin."
Ayzrael simply nodded his head and sat back upon the chair, awaiting his new
orders. The Master opened his little black box and withdrew a black scroll.
"Here is your mission, Black Reaper."
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Fri Apr 12 18:17:14 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Ten :: New Contract ::
As he accepted the black scroll, Ayzrael's eyes never left the
Guildmasters own. There was more the Master was not telling him, he knew,
but it was not his place to question. Unfurling the scroll, Ayzrael noted
that there was absolutely no written word upon it, indeed, there was only a
portrait. The face of a young man, with long black hair, solid blue eyes, a
crooked nose and a scar along his jaw. Ayzrael committed everything to
detail, painting the picture in his minds eye, before climbing up, moving to
the fireplace and tossing the parchment within the dancing flames. He
watched as the fire consumed its gift greedily before returning to the desk
and taking his seat.
"His name is Cecil Ben'Dova. He is a young Lord who oversees land just
outside of Althainia. The land he inherited from his father, who was a
drunk, can be quite bountiful. It might feed the army of our enemies for
sometime, if managed properly." The Guildmaster spoke quietly, allowing a
moment for the weight of his words to sink in.
"By All accounts, he is an exceptional Lord. He has inspired his people to
work, and work hard. They will begin producing harvest soon. This cannot
come to pass. Your first objective is to find and kill Lord Ben'Dova. Be
forewarned. He is guarded by an elite group of men and women who call
themselves "The Sparrows". Your second, and equally important objective, is
to sabotage the crops, so that our enemy does not receieve its supply. Any
questions?"
Ayzrael thought carefully for a moment before speaking, the firelight of the
candles reflected in his cerulean gaze. "Are there any restrictions for
this mission?" He asked, arching a brow as he silently hoped he would not
have to make a show out of this particular contract. He watched the
Guildmaster shake his head. "None, though I would caution you to be
discreet. If you are found out, you will have your hands full with the
guards of the Sparrow. It will not be..." The Master paused here, as if
searching for the correct word, "Healthy."
Ayzrael nodded and pushed himself to his feet. "Very well. I will need
some time to prepare. I will depart the day after tomorrow." The
Guildmaster nodded and watched as Ayzrael turned to depart. As the mans
hand curled around the door knob, the Master spoke once more, "Ayzrael?" He
called, causing Ayzrael to look over his shoulder at the Guildmaster.
"Make sure your affairs are set in order. Speak with your family. You
might not come back from this one." Ayzrael remained for a moment before
pulling open the door, as he stepped out, his voice reached the Guildmasters
ears. "I have no family."
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Fri Apr 12 18:21:12 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Eleven :: Preparation ::
As Ayzrael walked the quiet streets of Verminasia, his mind recalled the
last words spoken to him by the Guildmaster. "Set your affairs in order.
You might not come back from this one." As his cerulean gaze remained
locked upon the ground beneath him, he furrowed his brow. No family,
indeed. For as long as he could remember, Ayzrael had been alone. His very
name meant, "He who severs the soul from the body at death." Smiling
grimly, he kicked a stray rock in his path. Alone indeed.
Turning down a side street within the Kingdom of Shadows, Ayzrael let
himself into a small, tidy shop. His entrance was met with a wide smile
from the woman who stood behind the counter and a warm greeting. "Ayzrael
De'Sol. The Black Reaper." The woman shook her head playfully, raising her
hand to push her ebony locks behind her shoulder. "What brings you here?"
Moving to the counter, Ayzrael returned her smile and hopped up upon it. "I
have need of a few items." He spoke, handing a small slip of parchment to
the woman. He watched as she read over the list, pulling her lower lip
between her teeth in thought. "I have most of this in the back. The Velvet
Venom will take at least two days, and it won't come cheap, Ayzrael."
Untying the very same pouch of coin he had been given as a reward for
completing his first assassination, Ayzreal untied it, and pulled out one
gold nugget. This he pocketed, before handing the rest of the gold over to
the woman. "This will cover the cost of everything, twice over. It should
also help speed up gathering the venom, which, incidently, I need this time,
tomorrow."
He watched as the womans eyes widened briefly as she peeked into the bag of
gold. She was a simple shop keeper, Ayzrael knew. She left her family at a
young age, hoping to secure her fortune by finding a nice Lord to wed. She
failed at that, spectaculary. It was not that she was ugly - her problem
was one most women had. They just couldn't shut up. Finally, she nodded to
him.
"I'll have everything, this time tomorrow." She said with smile. Hopping
up off the counter, Ayzrael let himself out of the shop, waving over his
shoulder as he faded from view.
Writer: Savenath
Date Fri Apr 12 19:27:05 2013
To Imm Kyri Rp All Dragon Knighthood Slayers Conclave Sorien
Subject Descending into the Flames.
Savenath Idly flew into the crossroads with ease as he had heard of Tyrin
and the Conclave fighting with his new softbelly. He approached gently and
landed near the small floating thing. Savenath ushered his new softbelly to
come to him and they were both at a disagreement of where war would of
started. As the elder gold picked up hints and traces of hate he idly
listened. The small fly tried to say they were at open war and Sorien
defend himself that he was attacked. The large gold stared out disantly and
thought "And they are intelligent?" . He grinned to himself and let the
party ensue
Another unprovocated attack upon his small being insued . Savenath
understood if they were at an open war, yet they were not. He decided to
clear the air, unlike his giant body with some grace, he knew this would
could be a chance at peace.
Savenath tried to ask for peace with a disreguard unto him and open threats for the world to see.
War was declared... The Gold flew towards the towers with Flames in his eyes.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sat Apr 13 00:57:18 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Twelve :: Prayers ::
As he entered the Temple of Fatale, immediately a chill coursed through
his body. Removing the hood of his cloak, he came to stand before the
towering statue, curelean eyes finding his Gods face momentarily, before he
lowered himself to his knees. "Father of Murder, hear the call of your
child."
If the air was already cold, it dropped several degrees further. His breath
escaped in a white cloud, coalescing at the statues feet. "It has been less
then a month since my last confession in prayer." The diamond in the center
of Ayzreal's forehead flared to life, turning red hot, the scent of burning
flesh filling the air. He knew better then to scream. This was his price.
He waited patiently until the pain subsided, and then spoke. "I have been
expelled from Abaddon. I blame this on my inability to awaken frequently.
The new leaders said many things about me, lies all, as you are well aware,
Father. Regardless, I handled my expulsion with grace, as befitting my
station. I was accepted into your fathers Kingdom, Verminasia."
Pausing here, Ayzrael gathered his thoughts, striving to put feeling into
word. "I cannot begin to explain the feeling in this Kingdom. The sense of
brotherhood, of honor, of solid men and women working alongside for a common
goal, it excites me. The King is noble. I've yet to meet the Queen, but I
am but a pawn here. In time, I hope to change this, with hard work."
Sitting back on his legs, Ayzrael sighed into the black chamber. "The Count
and Countess of Abaddon have threw dirt on my name, and reputation. For
what reason, I know not. I am sure they have their reasons. It made my
entrance to the Dark Kingdom slightly tougher then the norm, and there are
some here, I am sure, who view me in a negative light. I work to change
this, Father."
"I continue to train, growing in power each day. I have taken to working
for the Guildmaster. In exchange, he teaches me the skills I need to
succeed. This is part of the reason I come to you this day, Father. I
leave to set out on a new mission. This one seems... Difficult, and there
are no insurances I shall survive. If it is your will to claim me, I go
willingly. However, if it is All the same, I would much rather keep my head
for a few more decades."
Ayzrael paused here to chuckle softly. The pain upon his brow receeded, and
the air in the chamber returned to normal. Climbing to his feet, he bowed
once more before the statue of Fatale and let himself out. He was off to
claim the items he needed.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sat Apr 13 02:21:06 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Thirteen :: Companion ::
He moved through the Kingdom of Shadows quietly, soft droplets of
rainfall falling from the heavens. The streets were most empty - he
supposed due to the rain, but it suited him just fine. He did not have to
dodge crowds. As he turned down the back street, he came across a trio of
burly thugs. Grown men, All of them, at least physically - they were
hurling stones at some type of small black dog.
Ayzrael began to walk past them, intent on ignoring the scene. He had work
to do, and saving a dog was not on his todo list. Yet as he was about to
push into the small shop, the yelp of the beast found his ears. It seemed
one of the thugs scored a hit with a rock.
"Ah gets em! Ah gets em!" Cheered one of the trio. "Ye be owin me a
silver!" The fool declared louder then the boo's of the others. "Ye be
cheatin. Ye was aposed ta stand behind this line!" Another protested.
Ayzrael began to push open the door and then stopped. It angered him to no
end that the fools were passing time by harming a helpless creature - time
they could be better putting to use by harming the enemies of Verminasia.
With a soft sigh, he released the door and turned around, moving over to the
trio.
"Gentlemen, I am sure smart, intelligent men like yourself have better
things to do then pick on a small, defenseless dog."
The trio turned at once to Ayzrael, sneering. "Git yer ass outta here,
punk, else we be hurlin these rocks at ye instead!" The first thug shouted.
Ayzrael frowned thoughtfully, weighing the options in his head. Three
against one - the odds were seemingly not in his favor, but he believed he
could take them if push came to shove. Yet, this was his home now. It did
not bode well to start trouble. Though it went against every fiber of his
being, Ayzrael smiled.
"Come, gentlemen. Leave the pup alone. Take a few coins, buy yourself a
drink or two." Ayzrael said, opening his cloak to pull out his coin pouch.
The purpose of this was two-fold. The first, to get coin, obviously. The
second was so that they All could see his badge, clearly showing he belonged
to the Kingsguard.
The play worked. The thug on the left nudged the leader and whispered. "He
bae Kingsguard." He said, directing the eyes of the leader to the badge on
Ayzrael's chest. Grunting, the leader nodded in agreement with Ayzrael's
offer. "Ye be right, sum drinks do bae soundin gud rih' now." Ayzrael
smiled, and gave each thug a single golden coin. He watched as they
sauntered off down the street, leaving the Assassin there with the pup.
He watched it quietly for a moment, seeing it struggle to stand. Its left
hind leg was in tatters. It was midnight black, the very tips of its fur a
dark blue that matched its slitted eyes. Ayzrael began to turn away to head
back to the shop, but once again stopped in his tracks as the dogs whine
reached his ears. Shaking his head as his gullibility, he moved to the pup
and scooped it up before heading into the shop and retrieving the bag of
items that awaited him.
"Its All there, Ayzrael. I even included an extra dose of the Venom you
requested. You know the rules, Reaper. Do not get any of it on you. Not
even a drop. I'd hate to have to go to your funeral." The woman said with
a meaningful smile. As Ayzrael stowed the items with one hand, the
shopkeeper spied the pup in his other hand. "A new friend, Reaper? I
thought you always traveled alone?"
Grunting, Ayzrael lifted the bird so that she could have a better view of
it. "Some idiots were hurling rocks at it. Didn't seem right to leave it
to its fate. Some training, it could be a good attack dog. Maybe even
guard your shop. Want him?" He asked with an arched brow.
( Continued in Companions II )
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sat Apr 13 03:33:04 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Fourteen :: Companion II ::
As she inspected the pup, her eyes went wide and she took three steps
back, holding her hands up. "No! No way! Ayzrael, do you know what you
are holding in your arms right now?!" She demanded, her voice full of awe -
and concern. Ayzrael lifted a brow and looked down to the pup in his arm
who was sound asleep. His reply was simple. "A dog?"
The shopkeep shook her head vehemently. "That is no dog, Ayzrael. That is
a direwolf pup. They are native to Icewall, as the tale goes. They can
grow to the size of a man, and are deadly fierce." As she spoke Ayzrael
looked down at the pup in his arm. It seemed to him that the pup was just
that - a dog. It certainly did not look like the killer the shopkeep was
describing.
"Well then, I suppose I'll place the little thing outside the Kingdom walls.
I've no desire to care for a dog." The shopkeep laughed softly, shaking her
head. "I dont think you are going to be that lucky, Reaper. They do not
let anyone handle them. Ever. It seems this one imprinted on you. I think
you're stuck with him. They rarely ever let humans handle them."
Lifting a brow, Ayzrael shook his head, muttering under his breath.
Slinging the bag of items over his shoulder, he said goodbye to the shopkeep
and made his way out of the establishment. Off to the Guildmaster Quarters,
Ayzrael first stopped at Fallon's. "Greetings lad, what can I do for you
today? The usual?" Old Fallon inquired politely.
"Not today, old friend. What I need from you is several large cuts of
steak. Raw."
This request caused old Fallon to arch a brow. "Raw, Reaper? I did not peg
you for the raw meat eating type!" Old Fallon exclaimed, but All the same,
he disappeared into the back to see to the order. Ayzrael grinned at
Fallon's comment. Looking down to the sleeping pup, he whispered, "He has
no idea." A soft chuckle followed, and as he looked up, Fallon approached
with the meat, All wrapped up.
"I've given you the finest cuts. I assume they're for your new friend
here." Ayzrael nodded as he placed a few gold coins upon the countertop,
before stowing the meat in his pack. "I would appreciate if you kept a few
nice cuts for him, daily, Fallon." The old man nodded, and Ayzrael let
himself out of the Inn. After a few moments, he arrived at the
Guildmasters. Moving to an empty table, he removed the pack with the
ingredients for his mission, as well as the meat for the wolf. Glancing
down once more to the pup, he used his free hand to pull free his sleeping
blanket from his pack. This he bundled up into a nice, comfortable bed
which he placed on the table, as well. Setting the direwolf down, he sat
upon a wooden chair and pulled the wolf towards him, inspecting its injuries
under the glare of the candlelight. Aside from a deep gash upon its side,
the wolf seemed to be in good shape, albeit a bit skinny. With a soft sigh
of resignation, Ayzrael took out his small medical kit, threaded a needle,
and began to stitch the pups wounds. If the wolf felt anything, it did not
complain. After a half an hours work, Ayzrael sat back and admired his
work. He'd done a fine job.
Exhausted from the days endevours, the Assassin closed his eyes. It did not
take long for slumber to claim him. Thankfully, this night, his dreams
would be peacefull.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sat Apr 13 03:36:44 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Fifteen :: Companion III ::
In his dream, a beautiful lady was just getting done stitching up a wound
upon his leg. She patted him gently to indicate she was done, and Ayzreal
climbed to his feet, dressing slowly. "Thank you, M'lady." Ayzrael
whispered. He might be shy and quiet in real life, but in his dream, he was
the man with the plan. Taking a step towards Ashtiel, he placed one hand on
the small of her back, pulling her towards him. He lowered his head as she
raised her own, their lips meeting under the moonlight.
"Mmmm. Yess." He uttered in pleasure. However, as with All good dreams,
this one ended, and Ayzrael awoke, though he remain on his chair, his eyes
closed as he tried to savor the dream. Ironically enough, he could almost
feel the lady's tongue kissing him, All over. He thought he might be
falling back to sleep, perhaps the dream picking up where it left off, but,
Fatale help him, these kisses felt real. Very, very real.
Slowly Ayzrael opened his eyes. Inadvertantly, he gave a shout and fell
back, his chair and body both crashing unto the cold floor below. The
kisses felt real, because they were real. The direwolf pup had been bathing
his face with its tongue! Groaning, Ayzrael pushed himself up to his feet,
picked up his chair and returned to it, watching as the black wolf pup
wagged its tail side to side, its tongue hanging lazily out of its mouth.
Shaking his head, Azyrael regarded the pup. "Well, I am glad to see that
you are feeling better." He said begrudgingly to the pup, who barked
happily. It was not quite a bark - more of a low-pitched yelp. Grinning,
Ayzreal shook his head. "I imagine you are hungry." He said, pulling the
pack of meat Fallon had provided him over. Opening it, he glanced at the
direwolf out of the corner of his eye. It was sitting perfectly still, ears
perked up. Ayzrael withdrew the first slice, along with his dagger. He cut
the meat into small strips. Taking up the first, he placed it on his palm
and held it out before the pup. He watched as the wolf leaned its head and
gently took the strip of meat between its teeth. It gobbled it up in no
time at all. Satisfied that it would eat this type of meat, Ayzreal cut the
rest, and placed it in a neat pile upon the ground. Lifting the pup, he set
it down, as well.
"Time to get to work."
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sat Apr 13 03:44:48 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Sixteen :: The Reaper of Souls ::
Ayzreal opened the bag of items he had received from the shopkeep. The
first thing he did was extract the two vials of black venom. These he
stowed away in a small special box he kept for his poisons. Carefully
closing the lid, he stowed the box and looked to the rest of the items. The
first was a small vat of extremely flammable oil. It was magickal in
nature, the creation of a certain Wizard of the Black Tower. Several drops,
once lit, would flare to life in white hot fire and burn anything in its
path, for several large city blocks. In addition to the oil, there was a
small pack of seeds, another gift from the Black Tower Wizard. These, when
ingested would cause a tree to sprout from the inside of a mans stomach. It
was a clever way of harnassing a spell many thought useless - create tree.
Nodding sagely, Ayzrael began to strip down so that he was completely
weaponless. He would later store the unneeded items in his vault. It was
essential he travel light, that he might maximize his movement. Slowly, he
chose the small arsenal of weaponry he would take, laying everything out on
the table before him. His black vallenwood bow. His quiver of arrows, and
two daggers. Those would serve as his weaponry during this mission. As he
sat back down, he withdrew the arrows from his quiver. Opening the small
box of toxins, he withdrew the vial of venoms. Pulling a bowl towards him,
he uncorked each vial carefully, and poured the liquid into it.
Taking a very small knife, Ayzrael began to make tiny holes in each
arrowhead. When he had six tiny 'pockets' in each arrowhead, he placed the
tips of each arrow into the venom. This he set to the side. They would
soak for an hour, the venom seeping in, coating, and filling the small
pockets on each arrowhead. He did the same for the dagger blades. Laying
them out, he coated the edge of each in the black venom. It would end up
destroying the blades - but anyone he so much as nicked with the blade would
surely be visiting his Father Fatale.
That done, he pulled out a map of the small town that overlooked the
farmland. The map itself was drawn in high detail, three dimensional. He
went over the plan in his head. He studied every single nook and cranny of
the map, until everything was committed to memory. The hours ticked away as
he worked. So intent on his work, he had completely lost All sense of time,
and was only brought out of his mental state by the tiny direwolf who sat
back on its haunches and launched into a tiny howl. Ayzrael blinked,
looking down at the wolfpup. It got to its feet and padded over to Ayzrael,
leaping up, despite its injury, right into Ayzrael's lap. It padded around
in circles, before settling down, full to the brim with steak. As the
arrows and blades continued to soak, Ayzrael closed his eyes, threading his
fingertips through the direwolfs fur.
He thought of the target, recalling the mans features easily. It gave him a
sense of excitement to know that this man, this time, on the morrow, would
no longer be breathing. He forced himself to think of the mans wife, of his
children, of his family. He imagined All of them gathered around his
funeral pyre, crying their eyes out, asking god why, why, why oh why? He
did not take pleasure in doing this : He was not a pyschopathic killer like
some others. He had a heart. It was most certainly black, but it was there
all the same. He sent a prayer up for that family, hoping that by his
action in killing their father, the children would grow up with hate in
their heart. With rage. With agony and pain. These were often what fueled
men and womens journey to the Darkness and that... That was a good thing.
In two hours time, the mission would begin.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sat Apr 13 04:21:00 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Seventeen :: Chance Meeting ::
The sun was high in the air as Ayzrael walked along the well traveled
dirt path toward the farmland his target oversaw. Ironically enough, this
area was once heavily forested, the very path he trod upon nothing more then
a game trail back then. Now, the wood had been harvested, and that tiny
game trail had become a wide dirt road. Such was the price of civilization,
he mused. Men and women procreated, and of course, required more space for
doing such. So, the animals of the tree, brush and fern suffered as they
cleared out large parcels of land, displacing God only knew how many
creatures. And it showed no signs of stopping. Each year, another piece of
land was claimed by man. Each year a piece of land was lost to thousands of
animals. Such a sad state of things, Ayzrael thought to himself as he
continued down the road.
He had been walking for about three hours now, and, if his map was correct,
he would be reaching his first landmark sometime soon. There, he would take
a small break to refresh himself. Besides, he thought to himself, the
direwolf would need it. Glancing to the wolf pup running in the field off
to his left, he shook his head. It was chasing a few butterflies, leaping
into the air to try and catch them. He thought back to the Guildmasters
lodging, and shook his head with a grin as he recalled the Masters face when
he came to work, only to find a direwolf running to and fro.
"What in the seven hells is that?!" The old Master demanded of Ayzrael who
was stowing away his weaponry. "What possessed you to bring a direwolf
home, you fool!? I want it out, out and out!" The old Master had said,
stomping his foot the way a spoiled little child would. Ayzrael found it to
be quite amusing. Once he had explained what transpired to the Master, the
old man shook his head and relented. "That wolf is imprinted on you now.
You won't be able to get rid of it, no matter how hard you try. I best
learn to live with it."
Grinning as he continued down the road, Ayzrael soon spotted the first
landmark. Lovers Rock, it was called, and it was quite easy to see why it
was called such. It was a small rock formation, shaped in the likeness of a
heart. Some poetic fool said it was Taliena's footprint. To Ayzrael, it
was merely a place to rest. As he approached it, he spied a couple perched
upon the other side. Ayzrael watched them for a moment, in utter disgust.
It looked like the boy was trying to swallow the poor girls face. It was
easy to see she was not enjoying the kiss, her eyes open, almost pleading.
Shaking his head, Ayzrael cleared his throat softly. The boy broke the kiss
quickly, swiveling his head to Ayzrael. The girl looked grateful. Without
uttering a word, Ayzrael sat down and whistled. The wolfpup raced over to
his side, settling down, tongue lolling out of its mouth as it panted.
"Told you not to overdo it." Ayzrael chided, pulling a small bowl from his
pack and setting it down before the wolfpup. He filled it with his
decanter, took a drink himself, and turned to the couple.
"Excuse me, is this the road to Car'a'val?" He inquired in a friendly tone.
"I've been walking for days now, I hope I am not lost." The boy puffed out
his chest and nodded, cutting the girl off who had tried to speak first.
"Yes, this be the road to Car'a'val. Home of Lord Ben'Dova the Great."
Ayzrael feigned surprise. "Lord Ben'dova?! I had no idea he was overseeing
this land! This is good news indeed!"
The boy nodded in agreement with him. "You be from Car'a'val?" Ayzrael
nodded in turn. "Nay, I'm hoping to find some work." The boy hmmd softly,
and then lit up. "Blacksmith Joe is looking for a laborer. You might find
work there." Ayzrael nodded in thanks, offering a smile. "I hope I arrived
at a good time." The girl finally piped up. "Ye did, Sir, for truth. On
the morrow there be a grand festival, dedicated ta Lord Ben'dova ta
celebrate All he done did fer us. He gon be there with his family."
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sat Apr 13 04:37:41 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Seventeen :: Chance Meeting II::
Ayzrael's brow lifted upon hearing this. It was perfect. He made a show
of untying his pouch from his side, catching both pair of greedy eyes. The
young girl turned about and opened another button on her blouse as the boy
openly oggled the pouch. "Lad, would you like to do me a service?" He
asked, pulling out several gold coins. "Would you run ahead to the village
and tell the Blacksmith Joe I'm on my way?"
The boy hopped up to his feet and raced right over to Ayzrael, snatching the
gold out of his hand. "I'll do that sir, right away." Ayzrael nodded and
offered a smile. "Theres ten more if you go, now." The boy needed no other
urging. He was off, fast as lightning, sprinting down the road, leaving
Ayzrael alone with the girl. "Well M'lady, seems its just you and I. Why
don't you come over here and share a drink with me. You can tell me all
about the festival." Ayzrael said with a charming smile. He watched as the
girl rose to her feet and walked towards him, her hips swaying side to side.
Unslinging his pack, he opened it up and removed several strips of raw meat.
These he handed to the direwolf pup who ate each greedily, before returning
to the water bowl. As the woman settled down near him, Ayzrael turned
towards her and offered his decanter. The girl took it quietly and removed
the top, leaning back to take a deep swig. She purposely let a large amount
spill out her mouth and down the front of her white tunic. "Ooops!" She
giggled playfully before handing back the decanter.
"Was he your boyfriend? Ayzrael asked softly. The girl giggled softly, as
if this was the funniest thing she had ever heard in her life. "Oh no,
definetly not! I was just bored, so I decided to give him a little taste
for a few coins. Theres not much to do in the village. Whats a girl to
do?" She pouted prettily. Ayzrael forced a sympathetic smile. "I'll bet.
I am sure I can find something for a pretty thing like you to do, perhaps."
He said, purposefully jostling his coin pouch. "Anyway, what can you tell
me about the festival?"
The girl, eyeing the pouch, forced her eyes to meet his. "It happens once a
year, before every harvest. No one works that day if they dont want to.
The bakers, and trinket shops cut prices, and the entire village spends the
day laughing, dancing, trading stories and the like. At night, some people
even get together to do... You know. It symbolizes fertility." She said,
blushing deeply. "Will you be there?"
Ayzrael took a moment before answering. "Yes, I am sure I will be. Does
Lord Ben'dova participate as well?" He inquired. The girl made a show of
crossing her legs. "Oh yes, he takes the stage with his wife and his
children to speak to the villagers, to thank them for the work they do. Its
a big deal." She said, nodding. Ayzrael pulled the map of the village out
of his pack and showed it to her. "Well, it sounds like fun. I am sure
we'll have a good time." He drawled out playfully. "Why dont you point out
where you'll be for me so I know where to look?" The girl giggled and
indicated a place on the map. Ayzrael made a show of looking at it. "Hmm,
I'm not too sure where that is. Tell you what, point out where the Lord
Ben'dova is speaking, and I can find my way from there to you." The girl
giggled again and indicated the place. Grinning inwardly, Ayzrael stuffed
the map into his pack.
Untying his pouch, he spilled a few gold coins into the girls hand. "Why
dont you run ahead and go buy yourself a pretty dress so you can look
beautiful for me tonight?" He said in a soft whisper. The girls eyes
widened as the coins fell into her hand, and she looked back up to him,
licking her lips. "Of course, I'll make sure I am the most beautiful girl
there for you!" Giggling, she hopped to her feet and took off running down
the path. Ayzrael looked to the wolf pup who was looking back up at him,
his gaze accussing. Laughing softly, Ayzreal gathered his things and set
out.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sat Apr 13 11:25:52 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Eighteen :: Vantage Point ::
The sky was a light, yet bright blue. A few fluffy clouds drifted lazily
about, and the sun was out in full force, its warming rays bathing the land
in a gentle heat. As Ayzrael walked along the dirt road, his tiny direwolf
pup at his side, he thought back to his childhood. He tried to remember a
day like this one, and failed spectacularly.
The village came into view after a few more minutes of walking. Nodding in
satisfaction, Ayzrael turned off the road, making his way behind some brush
that would conceal him from view. He removed his weaponry, checked them
over, and proceeded to wrap them All in a blanket. Digging a small hole, he
inserted the bundle and covered it up. His target would not appear until
late that evening, so he would use the time to do some recon.
Whistling to his little direwolf pup, Ayzrael took to the road once more,
the dog racing to catch up with his master. As he neared the village,
Ayzrael spotted two sentries in what looked to be newly constructed
watchtowers. This surprised him somewhat, for the structures were not
listed on the map. Which meant that they were built very recently.
Probably yesterday. Perhaps this morning, even. All the same, it presented
a new set of challenges.
"Hail, friend!" Ayzrael called, peeling his eyes from the watchtower and
focusing them on the gate guard. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" He asked,
approaching the guard. "Aye, that it do be, Sir. Whut brings ye to
Car'ar'val friend?" The guard asked Ayzrael. "My name is Jack Goff, I come
to Car'ar'val seekin to become a laborer, I hear Blacksmith Joe is looking
for a hand."
The guard smiled now and nodded, put at ease now that he knew the stranger
had an aqquantice within the village. Of course he didn't know that Ayzrael
was lying through his teeth, but it didn't matter. The guard waved him
through without any further question. It did not take Ayzrael long to find
the place the Lord would be speaking. It was a raised wooden dias. A big
of a X as there could be.
Drowning out All the sound from the bustling men and women that were
preparing, Ayzrael looked for a perfect vantage point. As he completed his
search, he saw that there was only one place he would have a shot. His
cerulean gaze traveled back the way he came, an soon were locked upon the
newest watchtower. He had his spot.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sun Apr 14 01:31:01 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Nineteen :: Preparing the Harvest ::
The celebration was in full swing. Groups of peddlers were out and
about, screaming at the top of their lungs, trying to convince others to buy
trinkets and such. Add to that the music which filled the air, played by
several bands of musicians, and of course, the yelling children and fussing
babies, and it equaled one largely massive headache. Still, Ayzrael had on
his 'friendly' face. He had changed out of his normal garb, opting to blend
in with the men and women of the village. He stopped at a peddlar, bought a
small trinket, moved a foodstall, bought some sort of pastry. If anyone was
suspicious of the outsider, they did not show it.
About an hour into the shindig, Ayzrael detatched himself from a passing
crowd. It was almost time, and he needed to gather the tools of his trade.
Of course, to go out the front gate would look suspicious, so instead, he
made his way to the wooden wall, and simply vaulted over it. The farmland
was just that - a farmland, and so it was not protected by high stone walls
and the like. Now outside the small village, Ayzrael ducked low and ran to
the other side of the road, following a trail he had marked previously back
to his buried items. As he approached his hiding place, the familiar whine
of his direwolf pup filled his ears.
"Sorry pup, if I untie you, you would only follow me and get in my way." He
spoke softly, handing over the meat bun he had purchased at the food stall
to the pup. This quited the wolf down of course, as it greedily tore into
the food. Moving over to the loose dirt, Ayzrael began to dig. In no time
at All he had unearthed the roll of weapons. He slid the envenomed daggers
into the sheathes at his side, noting the blades already beginning to
blacken and decay. Upon his back he slung his vallenwood bow, along with
its quiver full of poison tipped arrows. He gathered up the rest of the
items, quickly stowing them. Casting one more furtive glance about, the
Black Reaper headed down the path once more, sticking to the brush. He did
not try to sneak back into the village - not yet. He had one other matter
to handle.
Avoiding detection was easy, and soon Ayzrael arrived at the sprawling field
of spring crops. A soft whistle escaped his lips as he realized just how
much the Army of the Light could be fed with All of this food. His hands
disappeared into his pack, and he withdraw the vat of Wizard Oil. According
to the Wizard of the Black Tower, All he had to do was place this vat in the
center of the field, light it, and watch it work. It would create a huge
fireball which would incinerate everything in the immediate vicinity.
Casting one final glance at the vat, Ayzrael ducked into the tall crops and
made his way to the center of the field. He carefully set down the vat, and
withdrew several long pieces of blood red wood from his pack. He set these
small wooden logs down in a star shaped pattern, with All the ends touching
one another at the center. He then placed the vat of oil upon it, and stood
back to admire his work.
He would light All of the small logs at the outside end. They would burn,
of course, but slowly. He had worked with these magical woods before, and
knew that, at their current length, it would take fourty two minutes and
eighteen seconds for them reach the center, and the vat. Each log was only
fractions of an inch bigger then the next, to make up for the time it would
take to get All of them lit. The result would be the embers meeting at the
exact same time. Without emotion, he lit the first stick, then the second,
then the third, continuing until All were merrily burning away.
The first part of his mission was now complete. Ducking back into the
brush, Ayzrael began to make his way back to the village - more
specifically, the watchtower that oversaw the entire village square.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sun Apr 14 03:00:00 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Twenty :: Natures Sense of Humor ::
Drawing the hood of his cloak low down over his head, Ayzrael moved with
all of the grace of a tiger stalking its prey. Nightfall had arrived, yet
the village ground was still lit by the gentle white light of the moon, and
the bright stars. It seemed as if the universe knew his intentions this
night, and was doing everything in her power to stop him. As he ran,
crouched over along the wooden wall, blending in perfectly, making
full-proof use of his sneaking ability, Ayzrael reached the watchtower
without incident.
The problem with watchtowers is that while you got an exceptional, long
distance view of the surrounding lands in 360 degrees, most were not built
with the thought that sometimes, just sometimes, the sentry might have to
look straight down. It was the one blind spot of these watchtowers, and was
the place where Ayzrael now stood. Bathed completely in shadow, Ayzrael
leaned out the smallest bit, his cerulean gaze finding the face of the
sentry. As he expected, the man was leaning out over the watchtower wall,
eyes focused on the dancing trope of girls who were currently on the stage.
All that remained was for Ayzrael to scale the ladder, slit the mans throat,
and get into position. Nodding to himself, his course of action set,
Ayzrael turned around - and was met with a hard stare of a burly man who
barred his path with a drawn sword. Quickly Ayzrael's eyes went to work,
seeking to find any badge or trinket that would declare him as a guard, or
any sort of official. Seeing none, Ayzrael lifted his eyes to the mans own.
A sudden breeze brought with it more knowledge - the burly man smelled of
stale ale and whiskey. He was thief, perhaps. And a drunk one.
"Yeh jus bae given o'er yer monies, or ah will cut yer throat." The thief
said, his voice a hard snarl. Ayzrael made a show of lifting his hands high
into the air and taking a step back. 'Sir, I have a few coins in my pouch,
but not much. You can take them, please. Just promise me sir..." The
thief sneered, taking a drunken step forward. 'Promise ye whut? Gimme yer
damn money! '
Ayzrael took another step back - careful not to step out of the blind spot
of the watchtower. He spoke fast, adding a nervous tilt to his voice.
'Sir, I just came from a Witch! ' Azyrael said with excitment. 'She sold
me a magical seed! She said this seed, it would give me the strength of ten
men! So, you can have my coin sir, just let me have my seed! ' The
incredelous story caused the thief to snicker. He reached out clumsly to
take the pouch from Ayzrael's belt. 'Ye be daft, boy? Ain no shuch thing!
' He declared as he ripped open the pouch. The first thing he felt around
for was the seed, which he popped into his mouth and swallowed.
Suddenly, Ayzrael's demeanor reverted to normal. He walked towards the
thief and reached out, taking the pouch from the thiefs hand calmly. The
thief began to raise his sword, but suddenly stopped in mid-air. He tried
to take a step forward, but could not. His eyes wild, the thief looked to
Ayzrael. "Wha ye did ta meh?!" He demanded, but Ayzrael did not bother
answering. He calmly stepped around the man and made for the ladder. The
thief opened his mouth to scream, but when he did, his voice caught as a
thick tree branch tore a hole in his throat from the inside out. Another
branch grew straight up from his stomach, piercing through his brain and
coming out the top of his skull, killing him instantly.
As Azyrael made his way up the ladder, he made a special note to thank the
Black Wizard and commend the man on his exceptionally creative use of the
spell create tree.
Writer: Diuxa
Date Sun Apr 14 04:06:25 2013
Writer: Diuxa
Date Sun Apr 14 04:17:22 2013
Writer: Diuxa
Date Sun Apr 14 04:22:07 2013
Writer: Sorien
Date Sun Apr 14 07:58:28 2013
To Spyre All Austinian
Subject Chapter 12 - The Oathbreaker
"You will meditate upon those who break Oaths, and you will embrace it!
" declared Spyre. The echo of his voice reverberated throughout the cavern.
Sorien nodded respectfully. "To embrace my stigma? " He had not though of
it as such.
"You will bring me the flower as proof of your sojourn! "
Writer: Sorien
Date Sun Apr 14 08:02:57 2013
Writer: Sorien
Date Sun Apr 14 19:14:23 2013
To Pleknor All Shalonesti Austinian
Subject Chapter 14 - The Stigma
Rushing down the Underworld Keep hallway, Sorien's party flew headlong
into a waiting group of Baaz Draconians. A ranger, a druid, a priest, an
illusionist, Sorien, the Abbott Kuromaru, and the Speaker of the Moons
himself made up quite the motley crew.
A stray Sivak Dracaonian approached the Speaker, slashing wildly with it's
claws. "I will protect you, Speaker, " Sorien said while inserting himself
before the Speaker.
With a smirk, the Speaker retorted, "So you wish to join the Kyorl, so you
can break yet another oath? "
With a grunt, Sorien slew the beast before him. Kuromaru stayed tactfully
quiet, and the Illusionist Ancaladar sighed heavily.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sun Apr 14 21:20:08 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Party Twenty-One :: Assassination! ::
Cerulean eyes peeked over the floor of the watchtower as Ayzrael scaled
the ladder. His soft soled boots, added to his natural agility, plus his
years of training made him one very quite, very sneaky little man. He made
no sound, whatsoever. The sentry had his back to the ladder, leaning over
the watchtower wall, eyes no doubt still locked upon the dancing girls upon
the village stage. Climbing up the rest of the way, the Black Reaper
approached the man slowly from behind. Freeing his dagger soundlessly from
its sheath, Ayzreal reached out with his left hand and covered the mans
mouth, pulling his head back. At the same time he thrusted up from his
waist with the dagger in his other hand, thrusting up with force through the
bottom of the mans chin so the blade tip went through the roof of his mouth
and pierced the brain.
Ayzrael's cerulean eyes were emotionless as the man slumped back in his
arms. He could feel the warm stickly blood seep from the wound, down his
blade and unto his hand. He quietly dragged the mans lifeless body to the
side of the watchtower and set it down, not bothering to withdraw the blade
from the mans throat. It would be useless soon anyhow since he had treated
the blade with the toxin. Within minutes it would dissolve. He searched
the body quickly, identifying the badge on the mans chest which identified
him as a Sparrow. He had a small coin purse, which Ayzrael pocketed, yet
aside from that, nothing other then his weaponry.
Ayzrael rose gracefully back to his feet, unslinging his black vallenwood
bow and quiver. These he set down near the far wall as he approached,
gazing below at the Square. The dancing troop was almost done with their
number - soon the Lord Ben'dova would take center stage. For now, there was
nothing to do but wait. Ayzrael's eyes scanned the crowd, and soon spotted
a jester in a flashy suit. He was juggling flaming torches, and seemed to
be drawing in quite the crowd. After his performance, a small girl ran up
and dropped a few silver into the silver tin he used to collect donations.
Ayzrael watched the little girl and found himself smiling. She reminded him
of another little girl he knew from somewhere...
A loud trumpet shattered his thoughts. The call for attention. A short,
stocky man took center stage, spreading his arms wide to address the crowd
which now fell utterly silent. As the man began his speech, Ayzrael
withdrew a single arrow from its quiver, careful not prick himself upon the
heavily envenomed arrow tip. He set this single arrow down besides him,
before grabbing his bow and stringing it, his fingers moving quickly through
the paces. He was very familiar with the bow - in fact, it was the very
first weapon he had learned to use. This particular bow was from a
vallenwood tree of Shalonesti, the string a braided sinew.
Glancing up having completed the work, Ayzrael took a hold of the arrow and
nocked it quietly, holding it loosely at the side. He turned his attention
to the speaker. "You All know him, and what he has done for King! For this
land! And for her people!" The crowd responded as they should - with loud
whistles and claps. "Ladies and gentlemen, without further delay, I give to
you your Lord! Lord Ben'dova!"
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Sun Apr 14 21:30:35 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Twenty-Two :: Assassination II ::
Ayzrael watched as a tall, very regal looking man in white silks took the
stage. A woman and two small girls - presumably his family - followed. He
was also flanked by a trio of elite looking guards. Ayzrael, for a split
second, thought he recognized one of them - but could waste no time in
trying to identify who, or from where. As Lord Ben'dova moved to the center
of the stage, Ayzrael lifted his bow and pulled back upon the string.
Taking careful aim at the Lord, he slowed his breathing and heart rate,
before holding his breath All together. This was the part where most
Assassin's failed. They wanted to go for the spectacular headshot, which
looked very good - but was near impossible to pull off.
Instead, Ayzrael took note of the ribbons on the his bow. Using them was an
old trick he was taught to measure wind direction. Seeing the ribbons dance
lightly to the right, Ayzrael angled his shot a bit more to the left and
centered the arrow tip a little above the Lord's head to make up for
distance. Lord Ben'dova spread his arms wide and smiled. "Ladies and
gentlemen! I want you All to know something!"
What that something was, the world would never find out, for Ayzrael simply
opened the fingers of his hand holding back the bowstring. The arrow shot
forth from the bow with great speed, the bright black and yellow griffon
feathers twirling perfectly in the air. A few seconds after release, the
arrow slammed right into Lord Ben'dova's chest, causing the man to fly
backwards a few feet from the impact. A loud cry of terror roared up from
the crowd, screams filling the air. It was utter chaos. At that very
moment, a loud explosion overshadowed All cry and call - the field with the
crops went up in an exquiste fireball, creating a fiery inferno.
Men, women, boys, girls, guards, dogs, cats, chickens, cows - almost every
single form of life within the village went crazy, All at once. Chaos
overtook the village in that instant, and yet Ayzrael's eyes were locked
solely upon Lord Ben'dova. The guard whom he had thought he recognized was
tending to the man. Already he had broken the arrows end before pulling it
out the back. If anyone was as calm as Ayzrael in this little disaster, it
was he. Calmly he lifted the arrow and studied the head before leaning over
and ripping open the Lord's shirt. Ayzrael wondered what he was doing.
The man then proceeded to stick his finger into the wound. Ayzrael could
not, for the life of him figure out what the man was doing. When he did, it
was already too late. The guard was feeling the wound to guage exactly
where it had entered the Lord's chest. This gave him a sound idea as to
where the shot came from. Before Ayzrael knew it, the guard was on his
feet, calling the other two to him. He pointed right up to the watchtower
Ayzrael had taken the shot from. Ignoring the Lord who lay dying on the
floor, blood seeping from his mouth, nose, ears and eyes, the trio set out
towards the tower. Towards Ayzrael.
"Oh shit."
Ayzrael quickly gathered up his things and raced to get the hell out of
there. For some reason, he knew he did not want to meet that particular man
on the battlefield. Slinging his bow over his shoulder, he stole one final
glance to see where the guards were, but only spied two. The main guard was
nowhere to be found. He had no time to search. The other two were fast
approaching. Shaking his head, Ayzrael made for the ladder and quickly
descended.
The chase was on.
Writer: Lowenir
Date Mon Apr 15 11:05:51 2013
Writer: A'kariel
Date Mon Apr 15 17:32:04 2013
To All New_Thalos Lunez RP Imm
Subject New Fortifications for New Thalos
The dark elf with the Arcanium cutlass sheathed at his side stalked the
construction site like a predator, swarthy laborers moving faster and
nudging those close by them to pick up the pace as they noticed his gaze
upon them. He moved west along the wharf that paralleled the Ishtar river,
observing the half dozen cannon emplacements that were being installed.
Sand and earth had been dug up and relocated, sitting in piles near the
massive construction projects that involved dozens of workers at each
location, binding hefty metal shelters around the newly crafted Thalosian
defensive cannons.
The dark elf moved from one to the next and then started back, pacing really
along the entire wharf. Up to now the southern coast of New Thalos where
the merchant ships landed in great number, had been without protection. "I
am eager to have this done. " The dark elf said to no one in particular,
coming to a stop in front of the eastern most firing position.
Of All the construction locations, this one as the closest to completion.
Low to the ground, it looked like an iron box rising out of the coastal
sand, the business end of a cannon jutting outwards towards the waters of
the Ishtar river and the Arsataw Yaa beyond. While the fastness possessed a
blunt, graceless shape to it, there were artisans working on engraving it
with a swirling mosaic pattern that would glint in the desert sun, and would
serve as a daily reminder to the citizens of the Jewel how fiercely
protected they were.
An older Thalosian man, wrapped in a heavy robe and turban to protect him
from the sun scampered down the riverbank with a ridiculous amount of
scrolls in his arms, the pile threatening to spill out of control at any
moment. "Grand-Corsair A'kariel, if you will but look over the documents I
have here, you will see that we are ahead of schedule and... "
A'kariel raised a hand to silence the scroll carrier, not looking his way
while he replied, "I understand, and I appreciate your efforts, effendi. I
do not desire a rushed and careless construction. Yet All haste that can be
made, must be made, these are to be the most well crafted and solid area
denial siege weapons any nation has ever had."
The clerk sighed, perhaps a bit in relief at this sensible notion and
responded, "It will be that, Grand-Corsair, unwanted ships that try to land
and perhaps disgorge troops will come under a near ceaseless cannonade... I
have the numbers here on this parchment... "
A'kariel took hold of the offered paper with slender elven fingers, reading
the summation of the expected rates of fire before spending a brief moment
in consideration before casting a glance towards the southeastern shore.
From the base of the Tower of the Djinn, to the boat ramp, and near the
southern gate, approaching ships would not fail to see them. "Thalos holds
the largest coastline on the Althainian continent, and any foe of the Jewel
will pay harshly for thinking that they can sail right up to our southern
gate. The Ishtar river belongs to New Thalos alone, a swift trip to the
afterlife awaits any who would argue the point. "
The clerk opening his mouth to say something as A'kariel handed him back the
scroll and started to walk off, "Keep up the good work effendi... The
merchants of New Thalos will appreciate us being out of the way of their
deliveries as soon as possible. Hire more laborers, add more an overnight
shift, pay double if you must. I will personally ensure that your costs are
met. "
Writer: Savenath
Date Mon Apr 15 18:25:23 2013
Writer: Krista
Date Tue Apr 16 01:23:57 2013
Writer: Shylah
Date Tue Apr 16 13:03:37 2013
To All Knighthood Nadrik IMM (RP)
Subject Blossoming Romance
Shylah made her way up to the observatory of the white moon, where she
knew she would find him. She had just been knighted and she wanted to share
this news.
Genkie was there sitting against a the willow tree. He had a book and a
quill in his hands. Sheath 'watched him quietly for a while. It had been
some time since he had handed her a gift, and shared told her that he was
fond of her. She had thought about what that meant and she admitted to
herself that she did share the feelings. ' Then she was a squire. She had
to focus on her tasks. Now, she stood there watching Genkei, she was no
longer a squire.
Shylah cleared the air with a soft cough to alert Genkei of her presence.
Genkei looked up at Shylah and spoke "Congratulations, Dame." She smiled
brightly at the knight and approached Genkei, giving Genkei a gentle hug.
He returned her hug and gave her an affectionate smile.
"We should celebrate." Genkei told her as he released her. " I do have a
few tasks to do. But let's go to Shokono. There are many things I want to
show you." She smiled brightly and agreed to accompany Genkei to Shokono.
Upon arriving to the island of Shokono he guided her to the city. They
walked through the streets, hand in hand, making small talk and sharing
stories of each other's past. They had lunch by the fountain and set out to
the wilderness for a hike afterwards.
The days passed and they shared each other's company. At night he led her
to her own room and kissed her cheek good night, then left to stay in a room
near hers. She laid there till sleep took her, thinking of him. Her
thoughts wandered.. "Love.. Is wonderful.
Writer: Avillonia
Date Tue Apr 16 16:36:21 2013
To Verminasia All Immortals Necrucifer
Subject A return and Questions
Returning from her country estate, Avillonia ordered her house north of
the city walls turned out for use. She provided tasks to All involved and
then slowly walked the city. Guards bowed as she entered the gate, taking a
memorable stroll down King's way. People she passed nodded in respect,
although the Marquess was sure it was due to the tiara on her head and not
for true recognition. They did not know her anymore than she knew them. A
generation had passed.
After giving most of her life to her God and Kingdom, breeding kings who
raised kings, she wondered if she retained anything within the walls. Shops
and landmarks were the same as her memory, but the did not feel the same.
Soon she found herself in an All too familiar place. The room of prayer was
empty and inviting.
For many years, before Isadore constructed the Great Cathedral, Avillonia
had come here to pray. For guidance, for her children, for Verminasia. And
for purpose. She had hoped that at least one of her children would carry
the family name into the future along with her knowledge and love of plants.
The twins had vanished along with her grandchildren. The two she had late
in life and had grown up away from the kingdom were her last hope.
Magic and rare herbs kept her body young, Avillonia's vanity keeping time at
bay, however it did play tricks with her mind. She felt wholly disconnected
as friends and family disappeared and she went on. While major memories
were unchanged, many smaller ones were obscured with only feelings and
perceptions remaining.
There had been a time when the world lay before her. With faith, she could
accomplish anything. Now she felt tired. She had returned to Verminasia to
be quickened once again. So she prayed. She asked for Necrucifer to reveal
his plans for her and guidance to aid His kingdom as in days of old.
Finally she prayed that she guide her daughter for the days he would inherit
this legacy.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Tue Apr 16 16:39:01 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Twenty-Three :: Discovery! ::
Taking hold of the ladders outsides with both his hands and his feet, he
slid down the entire length, the tips of his soft-soled boots finding
purchase on the earth below. A massive crowd was gathered at the northern
gates to the village as the cries of man and woman filled the air, lamenting
their leader, lamenting their crops. All were trying to push out of the
gates to race to the fields to see what they could save, not knowing that
everything was beyond repair. From crop, to Lord Ben'dova. The village was
ruined.
It was the perfect setting for him to make his escape. In the confusion, in
the chaos, he could slip away, none the wiser. Running hunched over to the
other side of the road, into the forest, Ayzrael's only thought was for trio
of guards he had seen making their way towards the watchtower. It was an
interesting feeling, a twist in his gut, a vague sense of doom - a
completely alien feeling to him. He knew not why, only that meeting them,
or at least, the leader of the trio, would not be healthy. As he ducked
underneath a low hanging branch, in the starlight, he glimpsed a streak of
silver and immediately rolled to his left. A loud thunk followed as a
straight blade thudded into the bark of tree mere inches from where he had
been running.
It seemed they had found him.
Coming up from his roll, Ayzrael unslung his bow and notched an arrow in one
fluid motion as he came up on his knee. A soft whistle filled the air as he
let it fly in the same direction the blade had come from. He did not wait
to see if it connected. He was shooting blind, after all. Slinging his bow
back over his shoulder he sprinted into the deep underbrush, hoping the
added obstacles would at least slow his pursuers. It did not. Where he was
ducking, dodging, sliding and leaping over the obstacles in his path, it
sounded as if his pursuers were simply barging right through them. As he
lept a fallen log, Ayzrael came down on the other side with the knowledge
that there was no way he could outrun his foes. Laying flat on his back, he
wedged himself underneath the fallen log, pulling dead leaves and twig as he
went to provide camoflauge.
And then he waited.
He did not have to wait long - no sooner then he got comfortable and slowed
his breathing, he heard the sound of voices not far off in the distance.
"He is here. Somewhere. I can smell his fear." More rustling of leaves
and twig underfoot, the footsteps drew ever closer. Ayzrael turned his head
to get a look at the pair. The man on the left was much smaller then the
one on the right. With flaming red hair hanging down to well past the
silver belt which encircled his waist, he wore a single blade on his hip - a
rapier. The man on the right was much, much larger, and preferred to go
bare chested. A massive war hammer was slung over his back.
"Why do you think he attacked the Lord, Dai'lin?" Asked the smaller of the
pair. A grunt followed by a gruff voice answered. "T'was no secret that
the village was supplying food to the Army of Light. Was only a matter
o'time afore they sent someone to off the Lord." Spitting unto the ground
in disgust Dai'lin came to within inches of where Ayzrael lay hidden.
Lifting his right foot, he placed it upon the fallen log. "Yes, but you'd
have thought they would send a small force, at least. Instead, they send an
Assassin."
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Tue Apr 16 16:40:48 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Twenty-Three :: Discovery! II ::
The burly man guffawed and came to stand besides his companion. He sat
down upon the log All together and uncorked a flask from which he took a
deep swig. 'Eh well, imagine that there Assassin's surprise when he find
out that bloke he killed werent Lord Ben'dova. ' A chill went through
Ayzrael then - he began to retrace his steps in his mind. The mans face was
a perfect match to the face he was shown in the Guildmasters office. There
was no way he got it wrong. Unless... Unless the Lord knew he was being
hunted, and used a body double. This meant one thing. His job was not
done. Which meant he had to deal with these two.
As quickly and as quietly as he could muster, Ayzrael withdrew the last of
his envenomed blades. Glancing at the big mans exposed leg, he carefully
positioned the very tip of the blade and poked the burly man right in the
back of his calf, piercing the skin. The big man leapt up with a shout of
pain, causing his red-headed friend to withdraw his blade and ready it. As
the big man saw his companions response, he leaned back, placed both hands
on his belly and gave a hearty, booming laugh. "Ha ha ha! Twas only a
mosquito bite, my paranoid friend!" The burly man said in a gruff tone as
he slapped the back of his leg where the "mosquito" had bit him. "Come on,
lets be off. Chances are this Assassin made camp not far off."
With that, the pair stepped over the log and headed deeper into the forest.
One of them would not be returning - this much Ayzrael knew. He had but to
follow and dispatch the last of the pair, and he would be free to return to
settle his unfinished business with Lord Ben'dova. Ayzrael allowed them a
full count of one-hundred and twenty breaths before detatching himself from
his hiding place and setting off after them.
The hunted had now become the hunter.
Writer: Tarizard
Date Wed Apr 17 01:04:52 2013
To Slayers All Derigimus ( RP ) ( IMM )
Subject Peer Through The Depths
The deep gnome Tarizard stood in a room without walls, one of his great fears.
To stand in that which ought to be impossible, too complicated and deep to just
try and comprehend.. the nightmare of any man or woman that touts themselves as
clever or brilliant. The druid yelped out in terror, but he could hardly hear
his own voice. Like trying to listen to a conversation from underwater, All of
the noises he made came out muffled and barely understandable, but his fear was
real.
It wasn't long before the deep gnome knew he was dreaming. It All made sense. He
had pinched himself to see if he felt anything and All of his movements came out
like a garbled blur, but that did not matter. The gnome knew what was to come.
This dream is a familiar one, the frenetic and guttoral rambling of a voice with
no speaker.
"..intothedarknessonefindsoneselfslippingonthestonesliningtheabyssandplummeting
into.."
The gnome covered his ears, but the rambling did not stop. The words were always
the same and they were always gentle at first, creeping from the eternity of the
room with no walls until they scream at him in a dash. Tarizard tried to wail,
but the rambling was gaining momentum and power.
"..andwhenonewalksintothemanoroneisshunnedbymortalkindforthedutyothersseeasthem
ostfiendishofdelusionsliketheyhaveresignedtothedystopicfutureofalgoron.."
"Stop it," cried the gnome as he kneeled and pressed his hands over his ears as
hard as he could. He could feel it, the unrelenting explosion charging from the
endless room like a corsair pulled by the winds of a hurricane.
"..VISCERAWILLRAINFROMTHESKYLIKEWATERSDESCENTFROMTHEARCOFAFOUNTAIN.."
"I said stop it," whimpered Tarizard feebly. He felt as though he was about to
pop his skull open with the effort he was putting into squishing his ears closed.
"..andonewhohaslookedintotheeyesofeternityisfatedtoseetherepeatedbirthsofthedead
andthedeadgivebirthtothebirthsthatgivebirthtothedeathsandatoncewillseethetruthof
onesfutureandpastthatisonesinevitablefuture.."
The voice died and lost momentum and disappeared to torment him another day, but
Tarizard knew this was not the last time he would hear the voice.
"Why did I have to look," thought the gnome. "Why."
Writer: Maekla
Date Wed Apr 17 16:01:44 2013
To All Nordmaar
Subject A beginning.
"Ah, mae daughter, home bae where yaer 'eart bae."
Maekla smiled at her mother, Lyndra MacLeod and nodded dutifully. She would
take care of her chores as always and mind her father. The life they
provided was safe and uneventful. There was no question of their love and
would protect her forever if need be.
As with most young adults, Maekla explored her surroundings, sometimes on a
daily basis and as time permitted. The kingdom of Althainia always had
crowds and the market swelled with people at many hours of the day. Maekla
had been there many times, sometimes with her parents, sometimes alone and
would sit and watch people conducting their business or just watch them
travel a direction and imagine where they were off to. Many races and
languages had been heard over her eighteen years within that square and in
her family's tanning shop.
It was not until a recent stint in the marketplace that the young woman
heard a familiar brogue. Immediately she knew it was no dwarf and there
were none present to her eye. It sounded so much like her mother, yet
Maekla knew that was not possible as her mother conducted business in the
shop. Still she looked and whoever had spoke disappeared in the crowds.
She had never felt such disappointment.
That evening, she spoke with her mother after supper. Her father had
already excused himself to finish some chores, which left the women with
their thoughts. Maekla announced what she had heard and admitted to a
certain fascination for the unknown.
Lyndra revealed that she had once been part of proud Nordmaar, serving her
clan the MacLeod's and the Army until shortly after she met Pelnan. Only a
love that strong could make her turn from the Highlands. Her mother pulled
some cloth from a drawer, it was MacLeod tartan, saved from her clan skirt.
Lyndra related how she had put it away, to be a supportive wife and mother,
starting a life here. Her mother's tone was whistful and Maekla knew her
mother missed Nordmaar. The story continued, Lyndra related that she shared
her daughter's love of combat, had trained as a warrior and then a ranger.
She seemed well informed of her daughter's dreams. From a closet nearby she
also pulled out some well-kept leather garments, several weapons and a
backpack.
"Ah kept 'em jus' in cayse but Ah'd rather yae 'ave 'em. Yaer adventurin'
bae beginnin'."
Maekla hugged her mother taking the gifts, touching them with her fingertips
as if to envision their history. She tucked the scrap of tartan into the
backpack for safe keeping and retired to her room for the night. Instead of
sleep, the young woman found herself staring at the night sky and dreaming
of what could be. A plan formed. It was bold, it would require finding
someone to start her training. The interaction that night told Maekla her
mother had given her blessing. Maekla knew it would take hard work but she
intended to earn her way into Nordmaar.
As the first rays of morning lightened the horizon, she dressed, putting on
the awkward armor as best she could, it felt strange and she felt strange in
it. Grabbing the pack she headed for the barn. Looking for her saddle, her
father rounded the corner, his face sad but determined. The smile was
tender as he took full measure of the young woman before him as if for the
first time.
"I knew this day would come." Pelnan had always been a practical man who
worked hard and always said what he meant. He knew she would not stay if
asked. Instead he embraced her and draped a cloak over her shoulders,
handing her a coin purse and a small pack of food. "You let us know if you
need anything."
Beaming, Maekla pecked her father on the cheek and gave him another hug.
Knowing both parents supported her, she headed into Althainia.
Writer: Ellesbeth
Date Wed Apr 17 16:08:56 2013
Writer: Ellesbeth
Date Wed Apr 17 16:09:43 2013
Writer: Arthais
Date Wed Apr 17 16:49:55 2013
Writer: Ellesbeth
Date Wed Apr 17 17:04:46 2013
Writer: Ashling
Date Wed Apr 17 22:32:03 2013
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 18 02:36:17 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Twenty-Four :: Cornered! ::
His footfalls were silent. He moved not in front, nor behind those whom
he stalked - yet at their very side. The red headed man was ducked low to
the forest floor, seeking to discover any tracks that might have been left,
never knowing of course, that he would find none. The larger of the pair
was moving at a much slower pace, beads of sweat falling from a rigged brow.
His breathing had become labored, his bare wide chest heaving as he
struggled to draw breath. Ayzrael watched him quietly from the shadows,
knowing that it would not be long before he succumed to the venom of his
blade. Such a tiny pin prick - such a powerful venom.
The red-headed man stopped and looked back at his burly friend, concern
mirrored on his handsome features. He removed one of his red leather gloves
as he apprached, casting out with his hand until it settled upon the burly
mans forehead. 'You are burning up. ' He observed, clucking his tongue
lightly. The burly man shook his head, as if to cast off All doubt that he
was unwell. The simple motion caused him to falter, and he fell forward,
landing upon his knee. 'Ah... Ah dunnae feel righ'! Ah feel as if mah
insides whut bae burnin up! ' He declared, before falling unto his back,
writing in utter agony.
Ayzrael watched quietly as the man fell upon his back and grinned.
Unslinging his bow, he put an arrow to string, and drew back upon it. The
entire forest seemed to fall silent as he released the bowstring, the arrow
sailing through the air with a gentle hiss. As he watched the arrow speed
towards the already dying man on the ground, he stowed his bow, withdrawing
the envenomed dagger which was already beginning to crumble. Grinning at
the fact that only one man of the pair remained, Ayzrael stepped out of the
shadows, withdrawing the envemoned blade that had already began to crumble.
Now the playing field was even.
It was then that he saw something which made his breath stick in his throat.
The burly man sat up at once, like a man rising from the dead, his massive
hand reaching out to snatch the arrow right out of the air. Ayzrael watched
the burly man climb to his feet as the red-haired man took his position at
his side. 'Ah teld ye it wud work, aint I? ' The burly man asked his
partner, a jovial laugh following. The burly man dropped the caught arrow
to the floor below, reaching back to ready his massive warhammer as the
red-haired man began to move to the left. 'Ye be owin me a drink! ' The
burly man declared, advancing slowly.
Ayzrael could do little but blink in disbelief. He had pricked the man with
the envenomed dagger. He knew he did! Even so, there should be no way the
man could pluck his arrow out of the air with such ease. No way. Taking a
step back, Ayzrael's cerulean gaze flicked from one opponent to the other.
Casting his gaze around, he sought to find a way to flee - though he knew
there was none. The pair had baited him to their trap, and he had come,
willingly. The laughter from both filled the forest air as they approached.
Ayzrael was cornered.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Thu Apr 18 06:40:48 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Party Twenty-Five :: The Meet ::
The red-headed man leaped forward, his rapier flashing in the moonlight.
His thrust was slow, almost lazy, and Ayzrael parried it easily with his
dagger. He knew this was not the extent of the mans skill, but even as he
registered that fact, the daggers blade began to chip away. He had no time
to marvel over the speed of the decay, for a resounding roar split the air
as the burly mans warhammer cut the air in an downwards arc, seeking to
drive him deep into the ground.
Ayzrael dodged to the left, rolling way and avoiding the smashing blow, his
dagger lifted before him. Yet it was not enough, for he felt the bite of
the red-headed mans rapier dig deep into his shoulder, piercing flesh.
Instead of trying to parry the blow, Ayzrael took it, leaning his shoulder
back in the same direction, softening the blow but not avoiding it all
together as he would wish. His eyes settled on the red-heads own, a moment
of utter and pure understanding passing in that short time - one of them
would die this day.
Ayzrael shifted his weight to the tips of his toes. Any rational person
would expect him to turn on heel and flee - yet he was far from rational.
He knew this battle would be to the death. Digging the front of his left
foot into the ground below, he dashed forward, envenomed dagger flashing.
As he reached the red-haired man, he feignted a blow to the mans belly, yet
never breaking stride he continued forth coming to stand directly before the
burly man who struggled to raise his massive warhammer. Ayzrael regarded
the man briefly, knowing he could very well slam the dagger into the mans
heart - but opting against it. Instead, he sliced sidewards, cutting a
shallow gash upon the mans stomach before dancing lightly away.
The burly man roared - the roar turning into a snicker. 'His bark is far
worse then his bite! ' The man exclaimed, lifting his warhammer unto his
shoulder. The red haired man smirked in response, lifting his rapier and
holding it shoulder level as Ayzrael assumed a defensive stance a few paces
away. "Well, I believe this little gnat has been far more trouble then we
initially thought." The red-headed man declared, gesturing with his free
hand towards his burly friend to close in. The big man did no such thing.
Grimly, Ayzrael turned toward the red-head.
"Your friend will not trouble us further."
The final word spoken, the burly man coughed, a cloud of crimson bursting
forth from his lips. His blue eyes began to bleed and he fell to a knee,
his hands clutching the stem of his warhammer. A groan of pain followed,
and the red-headed warrior turned to his friend. "What have you done to
him?!" He demanded. That break in concentration was All Ayzrael needed.
As the man turned his head, he lept forward, dagger flashing in the
starlight.
Writer: Didgen
Date Thu Apr 18 20:02:55 2013
Writer: Y'tarra
Date Sun Apr 21 16:17:15 2013
To All Austinian Immortal
Subject What comes next..
While Y'tarra struggled daily to keep her spirit and her mind focus, a
glaring reminder remained. Austinian's eye did not reach her and her shame
remained bare for All to see.
For some time she had taken solace in her family's home within the
Shalonesti forest. It was small comfort over the years as elves generally
provided the same glares and questioning looks as many others. She had
hoped it would have provided a connection to something deeper, but as the
days and weeks passed, she knew what she lacked began inside.
When the event had occurred, the young elf had reacted like an abandoned
child. She had accepted and admitted her weakness, prayed constantly and
waited. In her heart she knew All had fallen on deaf ears. Austinian knew
she was not ready... In her heart, Y'tarra knew it too.
Even harder still were the glances from friends and unknown alike. With
some still flocking to the Chaos banner, some seemed to believe she was to
cast her lot with them. She knew as an elf of the Shalonesti, she would
never run so far from her heritage. She still believed in the Gods.
Although they did not seem to believe in her. The shun felt heavy and
uncomfortable upon her heart and soul. She turned inward, hiding her
despair from her family and friends. When she looked inside, there was no
longer the path she had envisioned in her adolescence. It had become
obscured. Weeds and shadow covered what had once been crystal clear. One
thing she still knew for certain. There was still Light.
Today she watched it while sitting under a tree, sunlight peeking playfully
through the canopy of leaves overhead. It coaxed from her the first true
smile she had given in a month. Something so simple and yet so necessary.
Yet she felt unworthy of such wonders knowing they were available to anyone
with eyes. So she merely watched, dread creeping back into her mind
regarding her significance and desire for the future.
The afternoon has passed in a blink, as many did. She had thought to pray,
but what does one say to a God who turns away? She had already prayed times
on end, meaning every word to be left with silence. Nothing could expunge
the act. It was not only her God she had betrayed, but herself. Desp been
her constant companion, keeping her heart a lump in her chest. And it too
needed answers.
The road ahead still had many questions, Y'tarra realized for once, she had
no answers.
Writer: Ancaladar
Date Mon Apr 22 11:35:12 2013
Writer: Ancaladar
Date Mon Apr 22 11:35:50 2013
Writer: Ancaladar
Date Mon Apr 22 12:07:41 2013
Writer: Ancaladar
Date Mon Apr 22 12:08:03 2013
Writer: Losben
Date Mon Apr 22 23:33:22 2013
Writer: Ptxauin
Date Tue Apr 23 15:54:39 2013
Writer: Eylam
Date Tue Apr 23 16:57:34 2013
To Abaddon Fatale Imm RP All Religion
Subject Priestly Musings - Power and All of it's Glory (pt1)
Death is patient as should his servants be. Those who act in haste often
find their folly too late. Seek power always, but be mindful of what could
be lost.
Power - such a very strong word and backed by actions can mean everything.
However, Eylam has watched the rise and fall of so many he knew that in the
end, total power would corrupt and now understood what it means to seek
power and yet be mindful of what could be lost. It is not the place that
you stand in rank or in position; it is the reality of using the position
for the better of the Darkness as a whole.
The Master, he always watched, listened to the prayers of his children and
faithful. He knew when something done was in a fit of childishness or even
when done to bring self-glorifying in actions. Silently he sat in the place
he had chosen to be his solace, the one place few knew to find him at.
Throwing missives into the fire he shook his head slowly with a frown.
How many donated in so many ways and went unnoticed? It was not always
eggs, or service that was donated, sometimes being there to be an ear to
those whom are in need of letting go of something inside of them, or simply
helping them through a rough time, some would see this as weakness. The
truth is, weakness is in each person, it could be the arrogance that they
are better than another, or feeling the need to belittle someone in a moment
of heat, words were the one thing that never could be taken back once
written or spoken. Either way it went, power abused corrupted all. Is it
was taught to him, there is time to use leather and a time to be steel,
choosing which is what will lead you to true power in the end.
He watched a priest spiral from the top of the chain over power, he watched
people (citizens) who loved leaders in the past whom also crumbled over
power and more so he watched those whom craved it so much they had lost
something before they had a chance to gain it. The key to true power was
respect, for if you were respected, power was seen as a blessing and nothing
was lost but everything was gained along the way. However, power when
corrupt would be like a dagger slowly bleeding out the soul.
Sitting there in the dusty old chair a smile came to the lips of the young
man, he realized that everyone craved attention and the need to feel
important. Even if it meant to step upon or crush another, this was the
problem, the corruption of power. Always someone was plotting to take down
one above them in rank in any way possible. Then there were the ones with
power who always look over their shoulder, or are blinded by the power and
would forget the ones they step on will be the ones whom can and in time
take them down. Power hid in many places, inside each person, it lurked and
called to everyone it was how they answered this calling that would prove if
it were of greed and self, or if it were of the Master.
(cont)
Writer: Eylam
Date Tue Apr 23 17:01:52 2013
To Abaddon Fatale Imm RP All Religion
Subject Priestly Musings - Power and All of its Glory (pt2)
For Eylam, he had his place; he gave a vow as a child, before his father
Ainin, the woman who took him in as her son Kotone and Count Sereb. " I
pledge to serve Fatales kingdom through All time and with each leader that
may come and go, they are here to serve Fatale. Fatale is forever as is
Death and through every rise and All I will be patient and strong. I serve
Fatale above All things and his Will be done " These words still are etched
in the hand of a youth trembling before those whom he looked up to, remained
written on the very first page of the book he carried tucked away. The
pledge was to the Kingdom and Him, those placed by him would come and go, it
is always the ebb and flow of life and death, it was also a reminder of how
power also came and went.
Thinking over his own life his fingers traced some of the dust in a pattern
on the chair. Here he was, a child whom became a man before the very eyes
of the citizens, whom was a voiceless to the world, yet could sing songs
that would make angels weep. The skald that had not only found his physical
voice that one may hear, but became a soft voice in the middle of darkness
that reached out the hand of death. A Novitiate who watched his mentor
tumble, who became a Deacon through his actions of servitude and then given
the chance to reach out as a Priest and spread the Masters will and lead in
his own way, given this power, Eylam knew that he could do great things or
be as those before him and fail. Failing was not an option in Fatales eyes,
or Eylams. Because he knew that it was through the Master's will that he
served where he did, as well as knowing that the Master could, and in the
past has taken away.
His thoughts of the stresses that the leaders in each place with in Abaddon
faced brought a sigh to his lips, each would remain silent for fear of being
forced into it anyways, something would change, but not until the constant
bickering publically and behind the scenes stopped. People needed to see
that every single one who lived in these walls were servants of the Master,
even if they did not follow him. And they were not slaves to anyone nor
should be treated as such.
Abaddon needed to unite and place the power struggle aside else everyone in
the end would lose, they All seemed to have forgotten that lurking outside
of the edge of the mist were their enemies, ready to crush them. However,
did the enemy know that Abaddon was already crushing itself from within?
There was much work to be done since so much had been lost, the question
was, where to place the stones to bring back the glory that Abaddon once
held. The first stone was a simple one, every single person needed to
accept and know the only power that should always be placed first and serve
was Fatale. The second stone was remembering if you wished to stand alone,
you will fail. The second stone to be set down would be a simple one,
careful of whom you step upon on the path to power, for those whom are
oppressed will rise up and you will lose what power you gained.
(cont)
Writer: Eylam
Date Tue Apr 23 17:03:29 2013
To Abaddon Fatale Imm RP All Religion
Subject Priestly Musings - Power and All of its Glory (pt3)
Eylam leaned forward in the chair, his elbows resting across his thighs
and his fingers steepled together as his eyes closed and he spoke lowly a
prayer.
Master and Lord, I, your humble servant bring to you praise for each day you
grant to your children in their service to you. I pray for guidance for
those of Abaddon from the leaders down to the lowest of servant in Your
realm in the mortal world. As they All struggle for power, they tear each
other apart and crumble the strength needed to face the war ahead. It is
time that we, your children rise up beyond what we have become and show the
world Your Power and Your Glory. Master, Your army is in need of its
general so that we are reminded of our place in Your Will. Guide one to
step forth and take these reigns so that Your army and Your faithful cease
this inner fighting and Your mortal realm become that which You desire from
it. Amen.
Eylam hopped up to his feet, brushing off his robe from the dust. He had
allowed his thoughts to linger to long on the bad, his little brothers
whisper of planning the ball made him choke and he deferred to the
Inquisitor, for she was far better at those things. He on the other hand,
started to plan the perfect evening for the Rose whom had brought the beast
to his knees.
(fin)
Writer: Betha
Date Tue Apr 23 21:27:19 2013
Writer: Betha
Date Tue Apr 23 21:34:05 2013
Writer: Tristiana
Date Wed Apr 24 02:49:51 2013
To All ( Brom Zandreya)
Subject Faith and Lineage
She had been to Zandreya's church a handful of times, but she still got
lost near the end of the journey, every time. Usually the beauty of the
forest and the animals within distracted her too much to pay attention.
Tristiana stopped to consult her father's map, spreading out the carefully
handled parchment upon a boulder that was about waist high. Was it a zig
west at the fork in the road, or a zag east?
As she leaned forward to squint at the expanse of aged paper, her topknot
fell over one shoulder. She found her present location and considered the
route she still had left to travel. The detailed and colorful drawing was
sure to be less accurate than it once was, having been created many years
before Tristiana was even born, but All the important points were still land
marked and correct. It would get her where she needed to go.
A big grin spread across the Kender's face. The compass rose in the upper
right hand corner had been artfully hidden in a large orange representation
of the sun, its points extended longer for the cardinal directions and
shorter for the ordinal ones. Not many people made maps like this, anymore,
with color and true-to life illustrations; but back then, map-making had
been something of an art. She considered adding her own updates, but
decided to make an entirely fresh map, instead of damaging what was
equivalent to a family heirloom to her. Maybe it would be something she
could pass on to her own children some day.
Gently, Tristi rolled up the parchment into a tight scroll once again and
slipped it back into the protective cradle of her map case. She sipped from
her traveling canteen and started up the trail again, whistling her favorite
trail song as she went, a certain excitement thrumming through her.
It was long-past time to learn more about Zandreya and her mother's legacy
as a priestess, for not All of life's journeys and adventures were found on
roads and pathways.
Writer: Tristiana
Date Wed Apr 24 02:52:17 2013
Writer: Setaru
Date Wed Apr 24 11:36:30 2013
Writer: Y'tarra
Date Wed Apr 24 11:50:58 2013
To All Immortals Austinian
Subject Along the Way
Preparing for the day, Y'tarra tidied the general room of rest, plumping
pillows and discarded any debris. She reflected on her meeting with Leshin.
It reminded her that anything earned must be backed with action.
The days she had spent training had taught her much. Many illusions of when
she trained as a member of the clergy were dispelled. This new role had
settled in and Y'tarra felt it important that she learn these lessons with
others. Understanding people would sometimes be the best way to help the
It was akin to love, much like a parent, however it needed to be fostered
and provided when needed. While she knew she felt it inside, it was time to
let it out.
If everything happened for a reason, then Y'tarra knew it was time to show
herself things about herself that she might now know. Press her boundaries,
make sure that she grew as a person and in her faith. The spirit was
resilient. Exposure to the clans and their frequent clashes taught her
that. Their faith was not in question, nor was it part of that role. It
simply was.
Most of her life had been wrapped up in protecting and serving the Light,
specifically Austinian, she had forgotten that strength of character was
more than simply speaking the words. It required will behind them.
Fortitude of the mind along with the body to repel any foe. When they were
not, she had questioned herself. She saw with great clearity that Austinian
had not changed. She had made a series of mistakes based on a lie that she
was fed by people she knew were not allies. Once her vision was obscured,
it was completely downhill. The soldier who had appeared to deliver His
sentence had shocked her to the core, she recalled feeling afraid and
strangely defiant, now it made her ill. She had reacted like a rebellious
child.
Y'tarra took a deep breath and sighed. She remembered apologizing to the
Emperor and to those involved, praying for hours on end and chiding herself
for even more time as to how stupid and blind she could have been. She
wished it could be made right. It would happen only when it was the right
time.
It opened her eyes to give thanks for those who helped her and received aid
in return. She prayed for those in the Light to remain true and not repeat
her mistake. She still dreamed one day to wear priestly robes, but focused
on the Now. She had much to learn still. These hard days would forge her
into a stronger version of what she had been.
Focusing on her training and assisting the Gray with what duties were
required and beyond would be a start each day and would keep her eyes on
what mattered most. She would continue to aid others for it was how she
would aid herself and perhaps one day earn herself a spot in Austinan's good
graces.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Wed Apr 24 19:46:47 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination games :: Part Twenty-Six :: Battle ::
Ayzrael was not expecting the red-headed man to react so very fast to his
attack - especially after his distraction. And yet, the man did, lifting
his sword just in time so that the blade of the dagger met the blade of the
rapier almst at its hilt, the soft twang of metal upon metal filling the
air. As Ayzrael trained his cerulean gaze upon the mans own, he watched the
red-head smirk. "Oh, I daresay it is going to take a bit more then that to
win this particular bout, my little assassin."
Not bothering to respond to the jab, Ayzrael dropped low to the ground,
twisting his hips as he extended his leg seeking to sweep the mans feet out
from under him. The red-head read the move, leaping into the air to avoid
the blow. As he came down from the jump, he lashed out with his sword, not
aiming for Ayzrael directly - rather aiming for the spot he thought the
assassin would arrive at when he stood up from the attack.
It seemed this day, both men would be matched in wits and skill, for Ayzrael
did not climb to his feet, but instead, rolled back upon the cold soft dirt
and leaf, coming up in a crouch, dagger held blade down toward his elbow.
He did not break eye contact with the man before him even as the daggers
blade began to crumble at the tip. Envenoming a blade was fifty-fifty
gamble. You might be able to poison your foe - but the blade almost always
was ruined from such treatment. It seemed this day, Lady Luck was smiling
not in his favor.
"So, assassin. Do you have a name?" The red-headed warrior asked as he
slowly moved forward, each footstep bringing him closer his assailant. He
lowered his rapier, holding it at waist-level, trying to lure Ayzrael into a
sense of false security. "No? Then I shall call you Assassin, yet as
gentlemen do, which obviously, you are not, I shall tell you my name." He
added, closing the distance with measured steps. "After all, it is only
fitting that you know the name of the man who sends you to your God, is it
not?"
Narrowing his eyes, Ayzrael climbed to his feet, standing at the ready. His
dagger could withstand perhaps two, maybe three more blows before becoming
utterly useless. He had to end this fight, quickly. As his mind raced
through each possibility as to how he could accomplish this, the red-head
grinned and lept forward.
"I am Devirex of De'laudi! DIE!"
Writer: Adanelie
Date Wed Apr 24 20:31:21 2013
To Verminasia Dahakon ( All Mencius Imm Religion )
Subject Finding Vengeance: Part 1
-Not Too Long Ago-
The first time Adanelie experienced true happiness was when she held her son
in her arms for the first time. His skin was red and wrinkled from birth,
his eyes were squeezed shut as he cried to be fed, but to her he was the
most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. A consistent warmth
spread throughout her body, easing the exhaustion of the long, troubled
birth. It was a miracle that both she and the baby had survived they said
but they had survived and that was All that mattered.
She looked down at the child in her arms, feeling a new sense of purpose.
She was needed and responsible. Her life would be better now - she just
knew it. Perhaps the father of the baby would even propose. She loved him.
Not the weak in the knees type of love, but a real love, a firm love. She
supposed he loved her in his own way too, although he had never said. He
even seemed excited about the baby even if it had been conceived out of
wedlock.
He walked in then, his robes swishing about him as he headed towards the end
of the bed, full of purpose. She felt a surge of pride and smiled down at
the child in her arms. She glanced up at the father as she spoke, 'Isn't he
beaut-'
But the expression she saw on his face put a stop to her words. His eyes
were as she had never seen them before - sharp and narrow and filled with
such a high amount of malice that she had to take a moment to catch her
breath.
'What's wrong? ' she said with hesitation, confusion and exhaustion
clouding her mind.
But she never heard a response because at that moment something heavy and
cold slammed into the side of her head.
Writer: Adanelie
Date Wed Apr 24 20:35:13 2013
To Verminasia Dahakon ( Mencius Imm Religion All )
Subject Finding Vengeance: Part 2
Her head was screaming.
Adanelie dug the pale fingers of her hands into the dirt beneath her and
braced herself against the pain as she opened her eyes. She had to blink
various times to clear the picture but eventually a canopy of various trees
entered her field of vision: a forest.
It was a few hours before memories of the previous night came back to her.
She sat up abruptly, the action sending a sharp, shooting pain across her
stomach. Her child, they had taken away her child. HE had taken away her
child. Despite her weakened state, she managed to let out a blood curdling
scream that sent various nearby birds up into the air. She sat there for a
few hours more, rocking herself and mumbling barely coherent phrases.
Eventually, the warm embrace of a dreamless sleep welcomed her.
She would have died if it had not been for her vision but whether it was a
vision from the Gods themselves or just her imagination she did not know, or
care. It gave her a new sense of purpose - of a strength that she would not
have had otherwise - and that was what mattered. Gritting her teeth she
managed to pick herself up despite the pain. She picked a direction and
began to walk seeming to regain strength with every step. All she could
think of from that moment on was of vengeance.
As she walked, she prayed her thanks to Mencius for giving her the will to
live.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Wed Apr 24 22:58:48 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Twenty-Seven :: Battles End ::
Ayzrael was done for. He knew there was no way his dagger could
withstand the massive attack Devirex was about to deliver. Time seemed to
come to a stand still as he lifted his cerulean gaze to follow the rapiers
descent. The thin tipped blade was drawn back and thrusted forward, its tip
seeking to pierce the fast-paced beating heart of the assassin. Ayzrael
began to lift the dagger in his hand to try to deflect the blow, but both
warriors knew he would be far too late. Today, Ayzrael De'Sol would die.
Out of the sheer silence of the surrounding forest, a shrill howl split the
silence. Ayzrael had little time to determine what such a pathetic, weak
willed howl belonged to - but it was not long before the answer came flying
over his right shoulder, black fur a blur in the air, claws outstretched and
maw agape. As quickly as Devirex's shoulder leaned into the blow, the young
Direwolf Pups claws found purchase on the red-heads face, biting deep down
into the flesh.
Ayzrael's eyes widened as he watched the pup sail through the air, not only
ripping apart the mans face, but perhaps more importantly - distracting him.
Without pause Ayzrael lept forward, dagger spinning in his right hand, its
dull, blackened, chipped and very envenomed blade causing the sun to glint
off its elonged length. As the direwolf pup sprang free of the red-heads
face, Ayzrael plunged his dagger deep into the mans side, breaking skin and
piercing the mans kidney.
Devirex howled in pure and utter pain as Ayzrael's dagger struck home. He
lept back, lashing out with his rapier. Ayzrael let go of the daggers hilt,
but was not quick enough to dodge the blow aimed at him. The rapier pierced
his chest, just above his heart. Ayzrael did not do what others might
expect a man who was just stabbed in the chest to do. He did not cry out,
or scream in terror. He kept his cerulean gaze forward, locked upon
Deverix's own as the man staggered back, falling to his knee.
"You cheated!" Devirex screamed, his face a mask of utter rage.
"Dishonorable! Cheating! COWARD!" He continued to scream, building
himself into quite a rage. Suddenly, he began to cough, a bright bubble of
blood bursting at the side of his mouth to trickle down his chin. The
direwolf pup lowered his head, leveling one evil eye upon the dying man,
before howling once more, lifting his head on high. Ayzreal withdrew a
cloth from his pack with his good hand, pressing it unto the wound which
bled freely upon his chest.
"You may call me what you wish. You will still be dead in a few moments,
and my pup will feast upon your entrails." Without further word, Ayzrael
moved over to a dead tree stump and settled down upon it, his body utterly
spent, his mind, heart, body and soul tired beyond belief. As the red-head
lay upon the unforgiving cold earth of the forest floor, breathing his last,
Ayzrael groaned as he removed the bandage from his chest. The blood
continued to leak out the neat wound. Gritting his teeth against the pain
he knew would follow, Ayzrael balled up the cloth, and inserted it as far as
it would go into the hole to staunch the bleeding. His cry shattered the
silence of the forest, and suddenly his body pitched forward, darkness
claiming him.
As Ayzrael's cry faded into nothing, the direwolf pup padded over to his
masters side. Pressing its paws upon the ground, the pup lay down his head
near his masters own, his rough pink tongue escaping his maw to lick gently
at his masters face, a soft whine echoing quietly All about.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Wed Apr 24 23:28:24 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Twenty-Eight :: A True Companion ::
He was unsure of how much time had passed, yet the direwolf pup at his side
knew, for she had not moved once since her masters subsequent fall after the
battle with the smelly humans. Even though hunger was gnawing at her belly,
even though as sunlight gave way to darkness and the calls of far larger
beasts filled the air, she did not move. She would not, until her master awoke.
She remembered how her master had rescued her from the humans who pelted hard
rocks at her, ripping her flesh and breaking her bone.
She remembered her master driving the humans off. She remembered the warmth of
the masters arms as they scooped her from the cold ground below. She remembered
how the master had nursed her back to health, how the master had patiently
fed her, how the master had provided warm milk. The master had not left her
side once when she was in pain. She could tell that he was obviously in much the
same pain she suffered, and so she did not leave his side.
The hours passed without much incident. She nuzzled to her masters side, closing
her eyes briefly, every now and again awakening to lick gently at the side of his
face. How tired she was! It would be so very simple to shut her eyes, and slip
into the realm of dreams - yet something within her cautioned against it.
Nipping softly at the masters chin as she rose to her feet, stretching her back,
a rustle in the brush caused her ears to perk up at attention. Turning towards
the sound, she lowered her head, baring her fangs as a low snarl escaped her
maw, her keen eyes picking out the small, yet muscular form of a black wolverine.
She watched as the black stocky beast approached, nose to the ground, sniffing
quietly. It had smelled blood - and had come running. An easy meal was an easy
meal, after all. Her hackles rose on high, and her snarl increased in volume.
She longed to charge at the beast, to sink her claws into its flesh, sink her
fangs into its neck and taste its blood, feeling it breath its last. And yet,
something held her back. It was her master. She could not leave his side. Even
as she watched the wolverine approach the big burly man with the warhammer and
sink its teeth into the mans stomach, ripping out his intestines. Sitting back
upon its hind legs, the wolverine chewed through the meat as it stared right at
her, almost daring her to approach.
The audacity! The young direwolf gave one more short growl, and settled back down
next to her master. That was her meal the little beast was stealing, but there
was naught to do. She would remain at her masters side, just as he remained at
hers. Long into the darkness did she wait, even as the wolverine shambled off,
its belly full from the stolen kill. She waited. Even as the wolverine returned
to its lair, even as the wolverines body began to convulse and jerk. Even as the
wolverine died from the venomed meat of the stolen kill, she waited. She waited,
and waited more.
Soon, her patience was rewarded. As she turned her eyes to her master upon the
ground, his eyes cracked open and he groaned softly. Leaping to her feet, her
tail wagging to and fro with excitement, she pounced upon Ayzrael's chest. He
was not dead.
Writer: Julthax
Date Thu Apr 25 21:38:37 2013
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Fri Apr 26 01:04:40 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Assassination Games :: Part Twenty-Nine :: Departure ::
With a soft groan, Ayzrael opened his cerulean eyes. The sunlight hurt, but more
so did the wound in chest. He licked his dry, cracked lips and expelled a sigh of
pain. Soon after, his hearing came back to him, and the gentle wimper of a pup
filled them. Forcing his head down so that his chin rested upon the top of his
chest, his eyes found the little wolf, laying down upon his stomach, paws
covering her eyes as if she was just caught doing something wrong.
Ayzrael studied her quietly for a few seconds, then proceeded to lay his head
back down upon the floor, a weak laugh escaping his lips. His mind raced to
recount the details of his battle, and soon the memories of the battle came
flooding back. Turning his head weakly, he spied the two corpses laying upon
the floor a few feet away, the larger of the duo with a massive, gaping hole in
his stomach. Immediately Ayzrael turned his gaze to the wolf pup, the sudden
movement causing him a sharp, stinging pain which he ignored All together. He
had to make sure his pup did not consume the tainted flesh of the man.
Forcing himself to a sitting position, he took the pups maw in his hands,
studying her fur for any blood stains. Prying her lips apart, he searched for
any strands of decaying flesh that might have gotten lodged between her teeth.
Spying none, he lifted the pups head and stared into her eyes. "You did not
feast on his flesh...Good girl." He whispered softly. Fighting the urge to lay
back down, Ayzrael peeled his shirt off, studying the wound the red-heads
rapier caused. The hole was small and neat, and while he had lost a bit of blood,
the cloth bandage did the trick.
Opening the small black pack at his side, Ayzrael pulled out a neat roll
of linen and set about properly dressing his wound. Once that was completed, he
withdrew several slices of jerky. The first he held out to the direwolf pup,
knowing she was as hungry, if not hungrier then he. Besides, she had waited,
patiently at his side, and such loyalty was to be rewarded. She took the meat
gently from her masters hand, despite the gnawing hunger in her belly, and
set about eating it. Ayzrael did the same. When the pair had consumed All the
jerky, and refreshed themselves with water from a nearby spring, Ayzrael made
his way back to the bodies.
The buzzards, flies, and maggots had already began to devour the corpses. The
sight was disgusting. With a quick shake of his head, Ayzrael lowered himself
tentatively to his knees. Withdrawing a very small pocket knife from his left
boot, he leaned over each corpse, carving a jagged symbol of an hourglass upon
each forehead, sending a prayer up to Fatale as he did so. He would leave the
corpses to rot that the God of Decay, Dragoth, might be honored, as well.
With a soft whistle, Ayzrael climbed to his feet and turned westward. It was
time to return home, and report his failure.
Writer: Dheta
Date Fri Apr 26 19:23:01 2013
Writer: Dheta
Date Fri Apr 26 19:24:03 2013
Writer: Julthax
Date Sat Apr 27 21:41:23 2013
Writer: Julthax
Date Sat Apr 27 21:43:51 2013
Writer: Julthax
Date Sat Apr 27 22:34:19 2013
Writer: Zayani
Date Sun Apr 28 01:58:03 2013
To All abaddon orlen
Subject Twilight Mission
Among the manicured bushes the woman knelt, unmoving, waiting as an
animal might wait, and watching. Overhead was a sky muted in a twilight
that sent crickets singing and locusts whirring, a sound both pleasant and
maddening, but welcome. It did much to cover the footfalls of the woman and
her companion, as much as the lack of daylight did to obscure them in their
dark clothing. She could not hear him move, but could feel his hand on her
shoulder, stilling her, and sense his movement from the corner of her eye.
She waited silently, crouched there as he moved forward.
The woman had been waiting for this day for three years. Revenge: the idea
was as sweet to her as a lover's kiss, and it made her heart beat just as
quickly. If All went well, she would know the soothing balm of her own
personal justice this night. She could not have dreamed it without his aid.
The light from inside the manor house streamed out of narrow, tall windows
in bright slits that cast themselves upon the ground. In sight of the pair,
two guards patrolled the yard with a routine sort of disinterest. The woman
watched as her companion crept forward as a cat might creep, slowly and with
patience, biding his time for the correct moment.
In a flash it came, and weapons glinting in the rising moonlight, he ran
forward and struck as quick as a snake. The first guard dropped to the
ground with barely a mutter from his foul lips, and the second had little
time to react after he turned. His arm flicked as he glanced back, waving
her forward. She wasted no time, crouching forward as she ran to join him.
'As we discussed, ' he spoke quickly, his voice low as they moved toward the
front entrance, now unguarded. 'I go first. Run as hard as you can, and
hide inside. When the alarm is raised and All attention comes to me, find
them. Are you ready? '
The woman nodded, reaching forward to touch his forearm. She wanted to tell
him how thankful she was, and how frightened, and how exhilarated. There
was no time for that now, and she hoped that he could read the gesture.
'Now... ' she whispered.
At the word, he reached forward and pulled at the door latch to slip into
the house. A moment later, she followed.
Writer: Orlen
Date Sun Apr 28 14:05:02 2013
To All Zayani Abaddon
Subject Twilight Mission (cont.)
Orlen quickly took in the surroundings - a flight of stairs ahead, a
fireplace to his right, two guards guarding a large mahogany door to the
left, the kitchen just ahead, next to the stairs.
Every detail was captured, and a quick plan was formed. He turns to Zayani
and whispered, "You are heading up those stairs. Nothing will stop you,
I'll make sure it. Just be quick and lethal. "
The young mage nodded at him in return, and as she ran by he could still
feel, despite All the rush and pressure, the delicate smell of her hair.
He nodded to himself and straightened his back, a sword in one hand, a whip
in the other as he engaged the guards. One of them was caught by surprise
and a quick slash to his gut sent him reeling, but the other was far more
tenacious.
Orlen was well trained though. Years of training in martial combat, both at
Abaddon and without have prepared him for this, and he relished the smell of
death. The whip quickly entangled the guards legs, and the sword separated
his head from the neck in a harrowing blow.
Looking around, he took a deep breath to steady his pulse. His kills were
quiet and effective, but he could hear Zayani's efforts from above. Between
the crackles of magic missiles slamming against walls, he could her Zayani's
words.
Without noticing, Orlen bit his lip. He thought back about Zayani's story
and his stomach clenched at the thought. Lost in the moment, he did not see
the kitchen's aid running at him with a candlestick at hand.
He deflected the blow as it was a bit too late, but the hit made a nasty
fracturing sound against his right forearm. Fuming with rage, he dispatched
of the servant woman and moved onto the kitchen. But then it All went
wrong.
A small child was standing there, staring the young warrior straight in the
eyes with a quivering lip. Orlen moved closer, the child had to die. He
could not risk this turning into a diplomatic incident due to someone
mentioning seeing him or Zayani in this land.
He closed his eyes, but the sword would not budge. He could not do it. For
the first time in his life, the servant of Fatale could not kill. The child
did not need another moment. He rushed through the door and out.
Orlen took a few more deep breathes, calming himself and picked up a torch.
The least he could do is burn this cursed place to the ground.
Writer: Zayani
Date Sun Apr 28 15:01:40 2013
To All abaddon orlen
Subject Twilight Mission (continued)
Her companion moved like an angel of death. She could see him from her
spot beneath the second-floor balustrade, where she was tucked back into the
shadowy recess below the stairs, waiting. T was almost musical to watch him
-- the perfect cooperation of his limbs, his weapons an extension of his
arms as he conducted his deadly symphony. As an alarm was called, the two
upstairs guards came running down. She clenched her eyes for a moment as
their footfalls thundered above her, and then breathed outward when they ran
past, engaging Orlen.
She would not waste the moment. As the pair had planned, the mage moved
quickly up the stairs, tossing open the doors to the master bedchambers and
then bolting them shut quickly once she was inside. The windows to the
bedroom, cracked slightly to let in the night air, let in also the noise and
din of the crickets and locusts, masking her sound. In the dim light of the
moons, Zayani could barely make out the sleeping figures as they lay
vulnerable in their lavish bed and silken sheets. Girding herself, the
woman pulled her dagger from its sheath and steadied it in her hands.
Ith her other hand, the mage produced a softly glowing vial from a pouch,
and placed it at the foot of the bed. In the darkness, the soft blue light
illuminated the features of the two who had ordered the death of her Dain.
The man, once a respectable size, was now in his autumn years. Asleep, he
looked almost frail, a bit of spittle wetting his stubbled cheek. Still,
she feared his remaining strength more than that of the younger woman, his
wife. She lay beside him with one hand tucked beneath her pillow and her
hair spread across it, dark and streaked lightly with silver. Her breaths
were smooth and even.
Moving to the man's side, Zayani raised her dagger and then plunged it down
into his throat. Blood bubbled up about the wound, and to the woman's
disappointment he did not even open his eyes. The ease of the killing
stunned her, and elated her as much as it angered her that he had died in
his sleep. Distracted with her rage, she brought the dagger down again,
slashing it across his face with an angry yowl, and did not see the man's
wife draw a weapon from under her pillow.
The next moments came to the mage like years crammed into the space of a few
seconds. Dain's mother leapt forward, slashing with her weapon and catching
Zayani deeply in the shoulder. The mage stumbled back, sifting through her
rage to recall the words of her spells. In an instant, jets of light shot
from her fingertips, brightening the dim room as they slammed into the
woman's form. She did not fall, but came forward like an angry spirit,
wailing and slashing her weapon at the mage's robes. The two women fell
backward, knocking into a dressing table and shattering the mirror. The
objects upon the table crashed to the floor creating a cacaphonous
announcement of their struggle.
The woman was strong - stronger than Zayani could have expected. The mage
cried out in anger as the pair struggled against each other, each trying to
gain an advantage. For a time, Zayani was certain that the woman would be
able to force the weapon deep into her gut, but then an opportunity
presented itself.
As the woman pressed forward, Zayani suddenly pulled at her arm, using the
momentum to fling her forward into the broken mirror. One of the sharp
shards cut deeply into the older woman's forehead, and stunned, she dropped
the weapon.
Slowly, and with great effort, she turned around to face the mage. She was
beautiful, even with her age beginning to show, and a shard of glass
sticking from her head. Zayani could not help but think how much she looked
like him.
"Why? " the woman asked, her eyes seeming to dim.
"Dain. " Zayani answered, and then the woman fell.
"Don't... " the woman's voice was fading as blood puddled below her. "Kill
my... Son... "
And then she was gone.
Writer: Plike
Date Sun Apr 28 17:34:08 2013
Writer: Plike
Date Sun Apr 28 17:39:46 2013
Writer: Rithor
Date Sun Apr 28 21:18:29 2013
Writer: Thorgrim
Date Sun Apr 28 23:07:42 2013
To Thaxanos Wargar Murdux Grumf All ( Raije )
Subject The Axe Idiot - Skull Against Stone pt. I
Murdux swept Thorgrim's feet out from under him, much to the Dwarf's
surprise. The battlerager grabbed his apprentice's beard while the less
practiced warrior scrambled to rise to his feet, hindered by the weight of
his armor.
"DO YAE THINK BAEFORE YE BREATHE?! ", Murdux shouted.
"Nae, ne'er! ", Thorgrim replied.
"Then dunnae think, just do! ", the battlerager commanded.
Thorgrim turned, balled up his fists and grit his teeth as he used his
momentum to thrust his unprotected head into the large boulder before him.
As expected, the impact yielded a sickening thud. The first of many gashes
spilt blood upon the large rock's surface.
This stone, ancient as the Mountain, had met the skull of every battlerager
who came before him and would convene with All battleragers who followed.
It stood as a testament to the unbeatable foe, whom the rager would fight
despite the odds.
"AGAIN! ", Murdux rang repeatedly, fire in his voice.
The Kuldjargh complied, fury building in his veins as the jagged rock
threatened the integrity of his brain. Tough as the bones and skin of the
Dwarven people may be, the earth will always be tougher. This truth was
evidenced by the blood splattered on the boulder, stemmed from that which
masked Thorgrim's face.
Writer: Thorgrim
Date Sun Apr 28 23:19:37 2013
To Thaxanos Wargar Murdux Grumf All ( Raije )
Subject The Axe Idiot - Skull Against Stone pt. II
Murdux bellowed orders and words of "encouragement". It was a process of
tough love. Thorgrim's responses were comprised of yells, roars, and the
thud of his skull against stone.
This foe, a piece of the Mountain, had withstood the force of countless
Dwarven headbutts through the years and surely had no intention of yielding
now.
"FER THA STRONGHOLD! "
SMACK!
"FER THA KING! "
SMACK!
"FER THA DWARVEN PEOPLE! "
"FER THA MOUNT'N! FER MAE PEOPLE!! "
SMACK! THUD!
Murdux grinned as his pupil continually cracked his skull against the rock.
By the time the session had finished, Thorgrim's tunneled vision was
distorted and blurred. A buzz rang loudly in his head, akin to that which
one hears after a good night of drinking.
As the rage declined, the sensation of pain increased but only to a point.
The dial had reached its highest setting, and despite the rended flesh of
his frontal lobe, Thorgrim thought bashing one's head against a rock could
hurt more.
"Ye'll stand an' foight, no ma'er tha odds, Kuldjargh. Tha rock bae yer
remoinder on that. "
Murdux headbutted the rock for good measure, opening a gash on his scalp.
Even he, a seasoned battlerager, was made to bleed by the Mountain.
"Ye'll come 'ere e'ry day and foight tha rock wit yer head. Ye won't beat
et, but ye'll foight none tha less. "
And so for many days forward, he did. Thorgrim butted heads with the
Mountain. He drank, he fought, and slowly he began to learn the meaning of
"Kuldjargh."
Writer: Cira
Date Mon Apr 29 22:12:04 2013
To All ( Althainia Imm RP )
Subject Dae'lasse
The stars are bright tonight.
Cira sits comfortably upon the wooden planks of the Crow's Nest high atop
the mainmast of the Sovereign Sojourner, quietly contemplating the course
which had brought her to this point.
She turns her gaze from the night sky to the sea. The water is calm for the
lack of wind, and the silvery radiance of the White Moon's reflection causes
the lazily-rolling ripples of the harbour to glitter like a writhing sea of
precious gems. The light and salty ocean air wraps around her like a loving
caress, carrying with it the relaxing sound of the sea gently lapping at the
hull of the Sojourner down below.
She smiles contentedly, not because of the calm and serene beauty around
her, but because of the growing child within her womb which will soon pass
on the legacy of her family. The time is upon her, and she can feel the
sudden and subtle changes as her body prepares for what she must soon do.
She whispers the name to herself, exploring the syllables as if getting to
know a new friend. Her heart bursts with a deep, indescribable love for
each precious sound, and a great and comforting peace fills her soul as her
ears greet the name in the sound of her own voice.
'Dae'lasse.'
The name is more than a name. It is a promise. A promise of potential, of
possibility, of oppertunity. A promise of hope for the future.
As these and other thoughts meander through her mind, a sharp and unexpected
pain grips her abdomen. She doubles, gritting her teeth fiercely against
the onslaught of agony coursing through her body, scarcely even aware of the
sudden wetness of her crisp Naval uniform and the boards of the Nest beneath
her. Her breath knocked out of her body, her mind searches the realm
frantically for any sign of her sister's wakefulness.
But the world is quiet tonight. Quiet as if holding its breath and waiting.
Nature will not wait for anyone, and certainly not for convenience.
Shutting her eyes tightly, she begins carefully and painfully climbing down
the hemp rope rigging to the planks of the deck below. Tonight, she must do
this thing alone. In true D'Aucoin style.
It is time.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Tue Apr 30 03:46:21 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: The Return Home :: Unique Findings ::
As he entered the Shadow Kingdom, the suns rays began to break through
the darkness of the night. He was pushed to his breaking point, and far
beyond in the last task from the Guildmaster, and almost lost his life.
Though he was a servant of Fatale, he mused as he nodded to the gateguard,
he was in no rush to meet his maker. Walking just a few steps behind him
was the direwolf pup who had, amazingly enough, saved his life during his
battle with the two warriors. On the return journey, he had taken the time
to care for the direwolf, feeding her well, ensuring she ate well, and had
time to excercise and play. She had grown, he noted, casting a backwards
glance at the direwolf. Her claws were a bit longer, her fangs moreso.
As he approaced the Square, the massive guillotine came into view. A small
crowd had gathered before it, hooting, hollering, cheering and jeering.
Ayzrael continued to approach, whistling softly to his direwolf, she came to
stand at his side. He had taken the time to teach her a few basic commands
during the return trip, but knew there was far more work to be done.
Reaching the square, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.
Skirting the crowd, he made his way to the band of guards who were stationed
at the guillotines side. "Seems I missed somewhat in my time away."
Ayzrael spoke to the nearest guard, who turned around, a scowl on his face.
Ayzrael could only assume the young guard had been pestered All day by
annoyng townsfolk, and was about to snap and tell him to go away when he saw
the badge on Ayzrael's chest.
"Sworn, forgive me. I did not real..."
Ayzrael cut the guard off, waving away the apology. "No need to apologize,
I am sure you've had your hands full today."
The guard nodded enthusiastically. "This lout was caught in Dragonslayers.
While Fallon O'Malley's back was turned," the guard gestured to a sour faced
man locked into the guillotine, "he tried to run off with All the shop
owners coin. Ole Fallon caught 'em though, and put the hurts on the boy.
Ole Fallon ye know, good warrior, once was apart o' Eclipse and All that."
The guard continued, opening up now as Ayzrael gestured for him to continue.
"Usually it would be the stocks for little thieves like this, you know?
This one though, he wouldn't hear nothing of the stocks. Demanded to be
brought here, afore the Kingdom to do his time in full view o' everyone.
These here people gathered mostly shopowners, and their family. Come to get
a good look at the boy, maybe hurl some rotten fruit an All that. Guards
are here ta make sure no one kills the youngin. '
As Ayzrael listened to the story, he turned his cerulean gaze to the young
boy shackled to the guillotine. He watched as the townsfolk spit at him,
hurled cusses and more - smelly old fruit and vegetables. The young boy
took it All in stride, not looking the least bit disturbed. Ayzrael thanked
the guard and watched as he returned to the group of make-shift bodyguards
who were trying to keep the boy from suffering the worst. It took a second
- but then something clicked in his mind. As he looked back to the boy, the
boy looked up to him. As their eyes met, Ayzrael knew that this apparently
poor boy who had fallen on hard times was not what he seemed. He was far
from helpless, and far from stupid. Ayzrael watched as Fallon O'Malley
himself walked to the boy and snarled out a loud string of curses.
The boy was not helpless. Nor was he caught. He had let himself be caught.
The boy was the decoy.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Tue Apr 30 03:48:12 2013
To Verminasia ( All fatale Imm )
Subject :: The Return Home :: Unique Findings II ::
Ayzrael turned west from the Square, leaving behind the guards and angry
mob. The sun was high in the sky now, its long rays seeking to warm the
land as it bathed it in light. The usually bustling street was quiet, with
very few citizens milling about. All, it seemed, were at the Square,
enjoying the spectacle. All but one, maybe two others. If he was right,
they were in Fallon O'Malley's right now, cleaning out his safe, and helping
themselves to a few thick, juicy steaks, no doubt. It was what he would do,
after all. With a grin on his face at the ingenuity of the boy, Ayzrael
slipped his hands back into his leather gloves as he stepped toward
Dragonslayers Fine Dining. He did not expect to find a battle, but from
experience, he knew these little urchins could be a handfull. He didn't
want to suffer any injuries leather protecton could circumvent.
Pressing his back to the outside wall of Fallon's, Ayzrael slowly peeked
through the window. Sure enough, a young boy who could not have been more
then eight or nine was stuffing his pockets full of coins silver and gold.
Just behind the little thief, was a tiny, red-headed, dirty faced girl who
had to be no older then seven. She was not concerning herself with coin -
instead she was stuffing her face with lobster, steak, bread and lamb. She
was not picky - nor was she neat about it. She was simply stuffing her face
with anything she could get her grubby little hands on. Turning back,
Ayzrael approached the door and dropped to a knee. He took his pups maw
into his hand, and looked into her eyes. "Stay girl. Watch." He ordered,
giving her the correct signals for both. Ayzrael rose to his feet, and
reached out, his slender digits curling around the doorknob. He turned it
slowly, without a sound, and pushed the door open.
The suns height in the sky had created long shadows under the buildings of
the street. These he pulled to him, wrapping himself perfectly in darkness,
muffling each footstep further. As he let himself into the establishment,
he remained undetected. After a few seconds of watching the urchins, he
realized the effort was never needed. These two were far too busy doing
their own thing to notice him. The boy, stuffing his pockets with silver,
the girl, stuffing her face with food. Ayzrael lowered himself into a
crouch, and crept toward the counter. There was only way out from behind
there, and it would force them to come through him. He watched the children
for a few seconds longer, and then banished the shadows from his being as he
climbed to his feet. He waited for the children to notice him, but they
didn't. He folded his arms upon his chest. They still did notice him. It
was only when the young boy, pockets filled to the brim with coins - turned
around and began waddling towards the food, each step coins escaping his
pockets and clattering to the ground, did the boy realize Ayzrael was there.
"Greetings." Ayzreal said, watching as the young boy took steps that were
far too big for his tiny, coin heavy body to complete back and away from
him. The boys mouth worked furiously, though nothing came out. The girl,
upon hearing Ayzrael, had a completely different reaction. She leaped high
into the air, her eyes wide as saucers. She tried to scream, but her mouth
was stuffed so full of food All that came out was a sort of pathetic,
muffled mewl. She backed up with the boy and soon both had their backs
against the wall. Ayzreal fought his hardest to keep a straight face at the
sight. And for a few moments, he succeeded. And then, the girl blinked and
let out another pathetic mewl, her cheeks puffed out on either side of her,
and he could not contain himself any longer.
The trained Assassin, servant of Fatale, Sworn of Verminasia, called the
Black Reaper - placed both hands to his sides and doubled over in a fit of
utter, pure, complete joyous laughter.
Writer: Y'tarra
Date Tue Apr 30 06:55:20 2013
To All Gray_Church Austinian Immortal
Subject Training's blessings
Stretching, Y'tarra realized how sore she was from the marathon training
session with Frack. A deep ache filled her muscles. While she knew she was
getting stronger, there was still much to do. She felt joy in properly
aiding a fellow member of the order as well as several outside the order
which required assistance with training. She had smiled many times to
herself and offered prayers to Austinian for the people who came and left
the group.
Her training had progressed where she could see the end in sight, yet knew
it was still far away. Y'tarra steeled herself inside, to remain vigilant
and to prove to herself and her God that she would make it through this
time.
She would make herself worthy.
At the end of the training session she and Frack had encounted Tief. She
had not realized until she saw the Elder how much she missed their talks.
It had kept her focused when her mind raced in every direction after the
shunning. He calmed her main fear almost immediately, allowing her to see
it a different way. Those that intend to truly leave the lunar Gods behind
were usually malicious, cruel and unfeeling. He stated that she was not
those things. And another thing she inferred on her own. She felt remorse.
Regret for who she hurt, the Emperor, the Order, herself. Nadrik and
Austinian. While she did not directly strike a blow she weakened morale for
those that participated to get a shard. It was something her mind thought
of daily. Always a part of her. Except now she worked hard to view it from
different angles, with the idea in mind that perhaps one day her experience
would help others.
Her life was full despite what she missed. Part of the Order, still able to
aid others as she could. She had faith that forgiveness was possible and
could see that others believed it too.
Writer: Fardoc
Date Wed May 1 15:42:22 2013
Writer: Kaerlia
Date Fri May 3 13:14:02 2013
To All Arkane ( Zandreya Imm Rp )
Subject Lessons from Gardening
If there was one good thing about being retired, it was that it gave
Kaerlia plenty of time to garden. The garden right outside her house held
many meaning for her. Not only was it a place where Kaerlia could enjoy the
Gifts of the Mother but the garden was a present from a dear friend. The
memories within the garden were bright and cheerful and Kaerlia was more
than happy to be spending more time within it.
Today, Kaerlia knelt upon the soft, cool dirt planting pansies. She liked
pansies because they seemed unassuming to her. They did not have the fame
of roses or daffodils but were cheerful All the same with their bright
colors and contrasting dark lines.
After planting the pansies, Kaerlia looked down at her hands and noted the
dirt caked in-between her cuticles and the various dirt stains on her robes.
A warm, almost melancholy smile spread over her features as flashbacks of
her childhood danced across her eyelids.
---------------------------
'Kaerlia! ' Kaerlia's mother called out from the herb garden just to the
side of their house.
At that moment, five year old Kaerlia was up in a tree, her bare feet
dangling over the edge as she looked deeper into the forest. She turned to
look towards her mother before carefully making her way down the tree. It
only took her a few minutes to reach the small garden where her mother was.
'Yes, Mama? ' Kaerlia asked, her head tilted slightly with a smile.
Kaerlia's mother looked up and returned the smile before speaking.
'I want to show you, what I think, is the most beautiful creature in All of
the Mother Zandreya's nature. ' Kaerlia's mother held out her dirt covered
hands towards her child.
Peeking curiously at her mother's hands, Kaerlia beamed with excitement. As
her mother opened up her hands, Kaerlia saw an earth worm squirming against
her mother's palm. Kaerlia wrinkled her nose into a frown. 'Mama, what are
you talking about? That's just a worm! '
Her mother laughed, a bright cheerful one that Kaerlia did not get to hear
very often. She then began to explain her reasoning as she released the
earth worm back into the rich soil.
'It is an earth worm, Kaerlia. They are very important, you see they make
the soil rich with nutrients so that beautiful flowers, plants, and trees
can grow within. Appearances can be deceiving can't they? '
------------------------
Kaerlia snapped out of her reverie with a wistful sigh. Her mother had
seemed so wise about Zandreya's gifts- if only she were around now to give
her advice. But yes, through the years Kaerlia began to see how beautiful
the earthworm really was.
They were unassuming too and yet everything in her garden relied on them.
Writer: Nikathus
Date Fri May 3 15:14:29 2013
To All verminasia khiraz
Subject From Father to Son -I-
Haven
There was something to be said in response to the stale taste and the
numerous aches and pains he woke up with that morning.
Groaning softly, he pushed his lean frame up from the cot he'd been sleeping
in and rubbing ineffectually at his bleary gaze, glanced slowly around the
room.
Shoddy but clean. Clearly a cheap establishment and he had absolutely no
memory of how he'd managed to get here. His clothing was strewn about the
room, there was a mug on its side and a drying stain of whatever had been
left in it on the wooden floor.
He scrubbed at his cheeks with another groan and reached for his pants,
unhappy but not surprised to find his coinpurse a great deal lighter than he
remembered it. At least the unscrupulous wench hadn't taken everything.
Snippets of drunken memory returned when he finally threw off the blanket
still clinging to his waist and moved to the brass water basin. He'd been
out on the town, a week long bender with some of the pirates he had fallen
in with. They'd taken a significantly rich merchant vessel and had spoils
to spare. After waving their abundant coin around in two bars, the word
spread and the ladies of the night flocked to them, All batting eyelashes
and honied words.
He was no stranger to drinking heavily over lengths of time, or the
occasional harlot though he had his stringent preferences, but even he
had to admit as the chill of the water met his sun-darkened flesh that
he might have overdone it.
The memory of the woman, who hadn't taken All his coin though she clearly
could have, stopped him as he grasped the sides of the basin to gaze
down at his unclear reflection.
Exotic. Black hair, warm tan skin and pale gray eyes that were too soulful
and too cynic for a woman so young. She had cavorted herself as a gypsy,
wearing flowing colorful gowns and scarves. Her bracelets were colored bone
and at her smooth ankle, a bell that pealed lightly whenever she moved.
He knew her. Had known her for years now. She was human though and
destined to fall out of his life in a few scant decades...
"Avital!"
The bellow cleared his thoughts though it brought his dull headache back
to the forefront of his attention. Scowling with annoyance he nonetheless
moved quickly to afix his pants to his waist, drag on his boots before
leaning out the window to gaze down at the beast that had bellowed. And
beast it was.
A very angry looking half ogre wearing the remnants of a leather vest,
black breeches and arse-kicking boots (as he'd heard a Nordmaarian put it
oh so eloquently once).
"Could you keep it down?" He called out arrogantly. "I have a rather nasty
headache. Hangover and All you know."
The creature peered at him angrily through beady brown eyes and clenched its
fists so tightly he could hear the cartiledge pop from where he was on the
second floor.
"Yer daddy has a debt to pay." It growled out derisively and pointed a meaty
finger up at him. "But since I can't find him, I'll take it out of you."
Writer: Nikathus
Date Fri May 3 15:21:00 2013
To All verminasia khiraz
Subject From Father to Son -II-
The mention of his father gave him pause. The old man had disappeared
years ago into the forests of the Vallenwood. Devion only knew what had
happened to him. Being held accountable for whatever Khiraz had gotten
himself into, that wasn't new, though it had been some time since anyone had
come looking for him for that reason.
"Is that so." He responded in a lazy drawl and casually leaned against the
sill, his arms crossing over his bare chest. "Uglier creatures have tried
and failed. What makes you so special?"
The half ogre bared its broken teeth and tusk-like apendages up at him,
yellowed over the years with great mistreatment, in a malicious sneer.
"Come bring that smart mouth to my fist." It growled. "I want to silence it."
A short stalemate occurred then. The people walking along the street continued
to do so, though they remained as far from the spectacle as possible. He
imagined the beast smelt even worse than it looked. He weighed the moment then,
giving the challenge serious thought.
He wasn't sure if the half ogre wanted to kill him. He knew it wouldn't matter
anyway. The guards would be called, if they hadn't been already. They were a
betting lot but didn't have a great sense of humor and very little tolerance
for any trouble they came across.
This was very public though and he was nearly certain that the creature wasn't
drunk. That meant there were probably others behind this, most likely watching.
His father wouldn't have run...
An age old anger arose in his chest, an ember of the past given fuel anew, and
with a flex of his fists, he called out; "Be down in a moment, dear."
Anyone who knew him would have heard the change in his arrogant tone, might have
tried to stop him. He would have shrugged them off.
He disregarded his doublet, opting instead for the thick chain-infused vest he
wore for dangerous engagements. He made sure his boots were buckled, tested the
buckle of his belt with its daggers and after wrapping his scarred fists tight
in silk gray wrappings he proceeded out of the inn - polearm in hand - to meet
the half ogre in the street. That was when the people disappeared though eyes
watched from everywhere.
The beast was a good two and a half feet taller than himself and thick with
muscle and scars.
"Yer daddy was a--" The insult got no farther from the half ogre's mouth before
Nikathus swung his polearm in a deft underhanded manuever that caught the bottom
jaw of the creature. He'd gone through this too many times. He'd heard All the
insults. Little enraged him more than hearing others badmouth his father. With a
satisfying snap, he heard at least the teeth breaking in the beast's mouth though
he hoped it was the jaw. The pained squeel that it emitted mere moments later was
more pleasing than he'd hoped for as he spun his polearm around and caught the
half ogre along the inside of its upper thigh.
He was grinning maliciously when the beast dropped to its knees but with a
sudden enraged roar, it lunged at him. Much faster than he'd been prepared for,
he managed to deflect its right fist but the action cost him and the left caught
him square in the side, breaking at least one rib before he spun out of the half
ogre's range.
A soft chuckle followed as the beast knelt on the ground, dripping blood
and looking discomfitted, though it lifted its beady gaze to glare at him. His
chuckle ended as he planted the butt of his polearm on the ground and made a
show of leaning idly against it, taking great pains to appear unphased by the
sharp ache in his side.
Writer: Nikathus
Date Fri May 3 15:25:05 2013
To All verminasia khiraz
Subject From Father to Son -III-
"You were saying?" He knew it was probably a mistake to antagonize the ugly
guy but...he couldn't help himself. He was ready for the reaction when the
half ogre managed to get his feet under him and as he expected, the beast
lowered its head and simply put All its strength behind a wild rush.
He stepped out of the way, avoiding it easily. He watched then with amusement as
the beast plowed headfirst into the wall of the inn - and promptly descended
into darkness when a painful flash struck the side of his head.
He wasn't sure he'd regained full consciousness until the cowl over his head was
pulled off roughly, and then he was wincing in the light of a lantern. Pain
spiked through his head in sharp throbs, reminding him that he'd gone into the
fight with the half ogre with a hangover before being hit in the temple.
He sighed heavily as he tested the rope binding his wrists at the back of the
chair he'd been dumped in unceremoniously and then tried to squint through the
light and the pain to see who was facing him - to no avail. He could sense at
least three people in the room though. Not good odds but doable.
"Your father left quite a reputation behind him."
The voice was gravelly, a man who'd seen more than a few decades perhaps.
Human, Nikathus guessed, and cultured. Boss man of some sort.
"What's that to me?" His voice was rough but arrogant again.
"Ye are yer daddy's boy. Spittin' image o' him. Where's th' old man?"
Second-hand man. A career thug most likely.
Nikathus rolled his eyes and shook his head, gazing balefully at the lantern
that was being held up practically in front of his face.
"Even if I told you-" he drawled, his voice a little tight with the pain in
his side, "-what makes you think you'd get what you're looking for."
And with that he knocked the chair back and kicked out at the lantern while he
fell, which flew from the hand of the grim-faced thug holding it to shatter on
the ground. Fire erupted over a stack of sealed crates from the combined dry
confines of the warehouse and the oil that splattered, giving him the out he
needed.
Chaos erupted as the boss man cried out, trying to get the thugs to put out
the fire while Nikathus deftly slipped free of the knot at his wrists and
gathered his disarmed weapons.
"Try it again!" He called out as he made for a door in the back, garnering
the brief enraged attention of the boss man - who looked old and grizzled
indeed - "You won't survive the next bout."
Writer: Nymaya
Date Sat May 4 15:04:23 2013
Writer: Kourin
Date Sun May 5 17:28:02 2013
To All Mithrillas (Mencius Drakkara IMM RP)
Subject Prayer and Meditation
The young enchantress made her way a garden shrine to Drakkara. She sat
quietly in the shrine room admiring the beauty of it. She sat in the garden
and took out her journal that had Her tenets in it. Mithrillas was her
mentor and had provided a copy for her. Sheath 'thought of him for a moment
as she looked down at her journal. She opened her journal and turn to the
page that the tenets where written. Reading over them quietly she felt that
she had a profound understanding of the gifts she was been blessed with. '
sheath 'looked up at the beautiful statue and kneeled before the statue. As
she lowered her head she whispered a prayer Dark Mistress, I feel the pull
of your gifts. I pray for your guidance and acceptance into your fold. I
pledge my faith and devotion to the study and teaching of your gifts. I vow
to serve you alone. No one else will be above you. I vow to have the
realization that you bow to no one, and that your gifts are many. I vow to
guard and protect dark magic. I vow to see the truth that you grant freedom
in the gifts you bestow. I vow to remember you in ever thread of magic that
I possess, and know that you are gracious in your gifts. I vow to recognize
that I represent your grace on this domain I only seek to exemplify your
power. I vow to seek power and claim it in your name I will understand that
I must constantly improve. I vow to understand that power is not always the
loudest voice, but is often a whisper that one believes. I vow to look
within myself for answers and trust in the wisdom I will have as your
follower. I vow to cherish the stones in my path they will give me
strength. I vow to see that weakness is a mortal vice, it will be cut out
and I will endeavor it alone. I vow to not be ruled by love or hate I will
experience the full range this world has to offer and be a master of my
emotion. I vow I will take what I want, there will be no obstacle in this.
All these things Dark Mistress I vow to you. Amen. She lifted her head to
the statue of Drakkara and felt a peace she'd never known.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Wed May 8 17:29:41 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: The Lords Will ::
With sure footsteps, Ayzrael De'Sol, Sworn of the Crown, the Black Reaper
made his way into the Temple of Fatale. Immedietly his cerulean eyes were
lifted, each orb settling upon and beholding the face of the statue of His
God. Removing his black hood, he knelt before Fatale, bowing his head
respectfully. The black cloaked man at the back of the Temple, his face
covered in an onyx mask approached and laid his hand upon Ayzrael's
shoulder.
"You have done well, my son. The seeds have been planted. This weakness
which resides within the pantheon of Darkness will be culled."
"Is the Master pleased?"
"He is."
"What does he desire of me now?"
"He wishes you to continue your studies of the cloth."
"I am no Priest. I am an Assassin."
"You do not have to be a Priest to bring the Word of Fatale to the masses."
"True enough, I suppose. Is that all?"
"As Death is patient, so to will you be."
Ayzreal nodded and closed his eyes as he felt the hand of the mysterious man
depart. This had been the fourth meeting thus far, and still Ayzrael was no
closer to figuring out just who he was. Still, he was of Fatale, and that
was All that mattered. After a few moments of silent prayer, the Assassin
climbed to his feet and exited the Temple - the Eyes of the Statue of Fatale
following him All the way.
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Fri May 10 22:03:32 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Final Farewell ::
The white light from the blackened candles upon the wall were reflected
in his cerulean gaze. As he looked to the statue of Fatale, the fire-light
danced left to right, right to left in its slow, eternal dance. The sweet
scent of lavender filled the Temple, skirting to and fro on an invisible
breeze that could never be felt. As he closed his eyes and breathed in
deeply, Ayzrael knelt before Fatale, the slender digits of his hands
clasping the brim of his wide black silk hood. Without a sound, he drew
back, allowing it to fall unto his shoulders.
"Lord of Murder and Death. Even if those who claim to serve you have
forgotten your words, cast aside your tenets, and destroy that which is
yours, stone by stone, All the while chanting your name, I have decided that
I will not." {
Bowing his head, Ayzreal pressed his tanned, warm skin to the base of the
cold, grey statue. He had allowed himself to get caught up in the petty
drama that was more befitting those of the Light. Idiotic leaders were
idiotic leaders. As he raised his head, he spoke into the silence of the
room. "They have destroyed what is yours. There are those who once wore
the robes of your Priesthood shedding such because they fear the wrath of
your might. Simple men who serve let a fleetng taste of power not only go
to their head, but burst free from the top."
Sitting back upon his legs, he raised his cerulean gaze to Fatale, who had
thus far remained silent, steadily observing him through an unwavering stone
gaze. "I have come to realize that I have no place in this scheme.
Weakness is to be culled. A simple fact that most seem to have forgotten,
or else are too cowardly to uphold. Yet, it is not my place to do so, as
you have bid, and so now I wash both hands of the matter, and will seek to
breath life into your fold within Verminasia."
Closing his eyes once more, Ayzrael remained still in his position for time
uncounted. Simply being in the presence of his God calmed him. It was as
if a torrential downpour was regulated only to a few misplaced raindrops on
the horizon when he was before Fatale. "It is the peculiar quality of a
fool to perceive the faults of others and to forget his own." He whispered
the words softly, before rising to his feet and departing the temple, fading
into the shadows. He was done with the matter. Utterly and completely.
Writer: Savenath
Date Sat May 11 13:48:42 2013
Writer: Aelysse
Date Sun May 12 07:59:53 2013
Writer: Ashlen
Date Sun May 12 22:44:27 2013
Writer: Ashlen
Date Sun May 12 22:51:03 2013
Writer: Ashlen
Date Sun May 12 22:51:45 2013
Writer: Ayzrael
Date Mon May 13 10:18:26 2013
To Verminasia ( All Fatale Imm )
Subject :: Life Lessons ::
'I don't like him! He's a meanie head, and a liar, a cheat and a thief!
'
Ayzrael listened to the little girl pout, fought the urge to smile as she
stomped her little feet down upon the old tavern floor and puffed out her
chest in defiance. It had been a few weeks since he rescued this little
street urchin and her brother from Fallon O'Malley's Dragonslayer Resturant
and at times like this, he wondered why he even bothered. Calmly he lowered
his cerulean eyes down to the red-faced girl.
'What does Faylec have to do with the rest of the bunch? They weren't only
your friends, they were his friends too. '
'I told them that because he was mean and I didn't like them, they couldn't
speak to him either! If he wasn't going to be my friend, then no one else
can be friends with him! '
Ayzrael sighed softly, and shook his head, stifling a chuckle with the back
of his hand. This sounded All too familiar. Leyli heard the chuckle and
narrowed her eyes at him. 'Whats so funny?! ' She demanded, placing her
hands on her hips and stomping the ground once more. The action caused
Ayzrael to burst out laughing even harder, so much so that tears began to
stream down his face. Little Leyli watched him in anger at first, but the
laughter was contagious, and soon she started laughing right alongside the
Assassin, unable to help herself. In short order, both were laughing, their
voices echoing around the abandoned tavern.
When he had calmed down long enough to stop laughing, Ayzrael cleared his
throat. 'Leyli, simply because you do not like someone, for whatever
reason, does not give you the right to try to keep others from getting to
know that person, and forming their own opinions about him. You'll soon
find out that most do not like being told what they can and cannot do, who
they cannot speak with. The more you try to keep them pinned down, the more
they will want to rebel. '
He watched Leyli as the young street urchin weighed his words. After
several long minutes, she drew her lower lip between her teeth, trembling.
Tears began to fall from the side of her eyes, and she tore her gaze away
from the Assassins own. 'I just want people to like me. ' She spoke
softly, scuffing her foot sheepishly. Ayzrael nodded, and climbed up from
his seat. 'You are going about it the wrong way. When you try to step on
others to make yourself look good, you end up doing the opposite. People
will never trust you, for fear that somewhere down the road, you will do the
same to them. Be yourself. '
Leyli nodded and wiped her cheek with the back of a gloved hand. Sniffling,
she forced a smile. 'Ok Ayzrael. I can see that what I did now wasn't fair
to anyone. I was just acting like a spoiled brat. I'll make sure I don't
act like that in the future. Can you finish teaching me how to shoot the
bow now, please? '
Smiling, Ayzrael nodded, lifting the training bow from the table. He had no
idea why he had taken on the small gang of street urchins, but he had. As
much as he had taught them, they had taught him much of himself in return.
They forced him to learn patience a trait he lacked, amongst other things.
Soon they would be old enough to be on their own in the world. Hopefully,
with the lessons he taught them, they would become exceptional thieves and
assassins, furthering the will of the Dark Gods. He watched as Leyli let
fly and arrow, smiled as it studded in the center of the straw target twenty
paces off. Sometimes, just sometimes, children could be far more mature
then adults.
Writer: Nar'lin
Date Mon May 13 11:26:52 2013
To All Arkane Religion Imm RP Raije
Subject When a rock is not a rock
Nar'lin climbed up the mountain. Slowly picking his way past the
boulders jutting out from the ground and the smaller, albeit sharper, rocks
that were scattered about. It was an older place he was going to. One that
he hadn't been to since he was a younger man, barely done being a child.
It was nearing night when he reached the summit of his travel. Up a little
higher sat two boulders. One large enough to sit a giant ogre, the other a
little less so. As he did those years ago, he removed his clothing and
gear, setting them to the side and finishing the journey to the boulders.
It was here that his father imparted on him the wisdom of his own years.
That a rock is a rock. The weather could change it, shape it, mold it, but
in the end, it was still a rock. Some rocks were bigger like a mountain.
Some smaller like a pebble. But it was still a rock. Each have their own
place in the realm.
Nar'lin sighed and setteled onto the cold stone, crossing his legs and
taking a deep breath in.
What if a rock wasn't a rock? What if it looked like a rock, but inside, it
was hollow? It had no identity beyond what it showed to the world. Was it
a rock then? By looks, yes, but by it's being.... No.
That was how he felt. Hollow. Since he felt Turpa's blessings fall long
ago he felt hollow. Then he filled it with the strength of Raije. The will
to fight against those that pushed against him. To fight and live on the
battlefield. It was a glorious feeling. So why did he give it up?
Was it because he was tired? Exhausted? He felt spent trying to break down
those of Chaos, without the companionship to push beside him. Was that why
he was fed up? Was that why he.. Gave up?
Nar'lin slowly opened his eyes and looked out over the vastness.
'I gave up... I was a coward... Am a coward. ' With that Nar'lin closed
his eyes again and opened his heart. It was time to become hard once more.
Turpa had shaped him. Now it was time to rekindle the passion of war. He
was done hiding and running.
His eyes flashed open as the old grin spread across his face once more.
Writer: Cherrae
Date Tue May 14 03:30:06 2013
Writer: Cherrae
Date Wed May 15 23:06:45 2013
Writer: Kahlyn
Date Wed May 15 23:39:32 2013
To All ( Kantilles Imm Religion RP }
Subject A Visit
'Your will be done, my Lord, ' Kahlyn whispered with a nod.
A few days ago...
Kahlyn glanced at the sky for a moment, hearing the thunder and almost
feeling the lightning. The temperature seemed to plummet for a moment ...
'hm, that is new, ' he thought to himself. As the bolt of lightning
appeared, Kahlyn smiled broadly. It had been a time since he last saw Lord
Kantilles. Kahlyn dropped to one knee, and whispered, 'My Lord. '.
For the first time, his Lord visited him while he was out amongst the
people, not the lair of a Firstborne. Lord Kantilles, always one quick to
laugh and find joy in anything mentioned he wondered if Kahlyn communed more
with the ones Kahlyn felt so attuned to then He, himself. Kahlyn merely
smiled gently, remembering each time his Lord visited where it had been.
'No, my Lord. '
His task was simple: Bring more to the Light of Goodness, find those of
evil, feeling there might be something better and show them there was.
Kahlyn called it "planting seeds". He was never one to force his
beliefs-freedom to choose was something he cherished. One was led to the
enlightenment of those of Goodness and then chose to be a part of such a
glorious thing. This was the difference. Yes, there were ramifications for
a choice deemed not of Goodness, but there was always responsibility when it
came to choices, no matter the ethos-one was farther from Goodness if a
choice led them from Goodness--but no one was damned... Unless they truly
chose that course.
'Your will be done, my lord.' Kahlyn whispered with a nod.
Writer: Cherrae
Date Thu May 16 04:30:15 2013
To Dahakon Devion Dragoth Necrucifer Immortal RP Religion Liviya Ursah Glennwyn Octaivius Ogilvy Nordmaar All Rikam Jaidyn Claudette Sjenna
Subject Redemption from Malachive - (complied tasks)
Ogilvy had kept enough healing and wrapped her up in a cloak, helping her
move with great care to go meet with the pair of Devionites. Her back was
on fire, but she had already asked to speak with the pair, boy did she not
realize what she was getting herself into. It was a three ringed circus as
she attempted to figure out exactly what the Ninth Tenet of Devion was. The
list was long and it was always changing, she was confused and felt like she
was going insane slowly. And foolishly she trusted the priestess, to find
salt poured down her back. Aching and falling from the chair she hugged her
body hit the floor and she writhed in pain. But before allowing the
Priestess near she warned her she would feel her dagger if she played a
trick and a trick was played and the dagger felt in return. In and out of
her reality of pain she had her moments where she just laid her head upon
the back of the chair she was straddling trying to gain understanding, all
she had was more confusion on the task. She was quite sure that either they
were mad or she was going mad.
Does your mother know what you are doing?
Cherrae didnt even want to think about that, she did not need another
variable added to the mix of All of this, her mother at this point would tie
her down and not let her finish the tasks or likely disown her for enduring
what she was doing for her Faith. Shaking her head a bit as the priestess
of Siccara started to preach to her, she growled a bit and reminded her that
Nordmaar accepted All faiths, a bit of a argument exploded. Cherrae was
getting pissed and reached down grabbing the same dagger that had peeled her
flesh from its place in her belt. In front of every one of them there she
carved into her shoulder where her chest meets, the symbol of Menicus. She
was quite sure that those of her home thought her mad by now and by the time
it was over even the devionites were sure it was well past the time of
needing rest for Cherrae. So in their wisdom, the priest of siccara and the
captn of Verm attempted to lift her up by her arms, screaming in agony as
her back was stretched opening small areas along the flesh that was torn
away with a dagger. Her legs clamped to the chair she hugged and they
finally lifted it up and carried her out of the Rose.
She still was confused about that damned ninth tenet, yet perhaps there was
the answer in itself. She would need to speak to the one who gave her that
task to see. Time happened to linger upon her side for now. While resting
in the garden a reindeer entered with a little coaxing from the priestess,
Cherrae knew what it was she needed to do but exhaustion was setting in so
she killed it and laid there next to the corpse, knowing it was the next
part of her task, she watched as it turned stiff and started to bloat from
being dead.
(cont)
Writer: Cherrae
Date Thu May 16 04:32:46 2013
To Dahakon Devion Dragoth Necrucifer Immortal RP Religion Liviya Ursah Glennwyn Octaivius Ogilvy Nordmaar All Rikam Jaidyn Claudette Sjenna
Subject Redemption from Malachive - (complied tasks pt 2)
As the corpse started to decay she fought to not gag and nearly throw up
from the smell of rotting flesh. She had thought at least being in the
garden that the scent would not be so bad. She was very very wrong. After
a bit of time, the maggots started to rise up from their eggs and worked on
the corpse from both outside and within. Cherrae had plenty of wounds upon
her, but there were some places that she simply knew to keep them from.
Taking out her own dagger she drew a deep cut into her hand and with a
cringe she shoved it into the smooshy, smelly, decaying flesh of the
reindeer allowing the maggots to climb upon her hand and the wound that was
fresh and bleeding. She sat there for a while, watching how the corpse was
becoming a meal for the maggots, yet on her hand, the swarm of maggots
seemed to heal the opened wound. She was no cleric or priestly type but she
knew the difference clearly. And then it dawned upon her. In unity the
relationship between faiths are healthy and not at odds, they are one and
like the maggots on her hand, kept one another alive to do what they are
meant to do. However, when there is one whom goes against the grain, it is
like the corpse and will be devoured into nothing, maybe not by the maggots,
but by those united.
How strange it was to feel the little white maggots wiggle on her hand.
Once it All sank in she pulled a small vial from her pack, pulling the cork
free with her teeth she tipped it over her hand, watching as the poison
slowly killed each one, as well as it entered her own blood stream. Not all
of the little critters died at once, some quick and others slow, but there
were three that simply endured, picking them off her hand while she shivered
she sat the three that lived down with the others that had devoured the
corpse with a new understanding of many things.
Her exhaustion was setting in and she rose up with a struggle, using her
chair and made her way to the one place she slept often when in need of
solid rest. All that was left now was returning to each priest whom had
tasked her, the sermon she was to sacrifice someone at, then pray that her
confusion of the Devions ninth tenet came clear to her, and now she was down
to two days time still was somewhat on her time..
Writer: Ashlen
Date Thu May 16 13:30:52 2013
Writer: Fardoc
Date Thu May 16 14:02:37 2013
Writer: Cherrae
Date Thu May 16 15:14:47 2013
Writer: Finwal
Date Thu May 16 19:54:47 2013
Writer: Cherrae
Date Fri May 17 19:52:40 2013
Writer: Vylanthria
Date Sat May 18 17:24:41 2013
Writer: Vylanthria
Date Sat May 18 17:40:49 2013
Writer: Tazisk
Date Sun May 19 17:01:43 2013
Writer: Tarsiel
Date Mon May 20 17:07:18 2013
Writer: Dalathas
Date Tue May 21 12:55:36 2013
Writer: Tazisk
Date Tue May 21 21:40:51 2013
Writer: Hanon
Date Wed May 22 07:39:52 2013
To Slayers All Derigimus ( RP ) ( IMM )
Subject Stunnability
Hanon looked over at the ruin is his hands. The grains of metal and
rusted ore slipped through his fingers like blood through an open abadonnian
murder pit. Well at least Hanon had had a favorite dagger for what that was
worth.
'That's fine then Mage Clerist Dalathas, you can.. '
Hanon paused in mid thought half rambling to himself as he caught a wiff of
that familiar foul aroma of the dark elf's bowels gassing through out the
whole manor. Today was special Chicken livers, sea jelly cured with oranges
and an elvish cider drink the dark elves were found of came wafting into the
room. These unique smells combined with the two day run they had made
through the dark elves liver made Hanon's skin turn a unique shade of green
as he began to sweat profusely.
'Dont mind the present I left for you in compensation there mister MacLeod.
The dark elf's voice floated back to Hanon. Hanon grumbled at the fume
choked room and pondered to himself the meaning of the mages and other
clerics existences within the keep. Before it was the ellow robes now that
they changed to the brown robes Hanon could only chuckle to himself.
Following Dalathas's continuos nasal assaults Hanon could only retch at the
irony.
'That was quite some gif.." Hanon began to say to the Manor when another
brutal shrill dominating pipsqueak of a voice chirped out "SILENCE infidel!"
Tarizard High Clerist Mithroog spoke. As usual Hanon bit his tongue and
looked darkly into the corner.
Hanon was aware he'd been placed in the black book of penitence for the time
being, but the idea that the gnome had anything to offer offended Hanon on
some level. Mithroog had wanted to deepen the learnings of magic but Hanon
was skeptical, if his training or that of Kallinth, Ptxauin, Havarok or any
of the other great dragons before Hanon had been able to find a way to
physically destroy Demons Angels Balanx, Vampires or the other sleuth of
unnaturals they would have.
The fact that the High Clerist was attempting to research and create a
special unit irked Hanon.
't me see if ol stinky has some answers for me.. Hanon said cunningly as
he tracked the leaking aroma of the dark elf towards the Manors extensive
Grimmoire and Library. If Hanon could find Dalathas the Brown and All his
chronies he might just be able to beat some answers from their weak casting
hands.
And if that failed he always had a jar of pickled eggs.
Writer: Kaerlia
Date Wed May 22 11:25:09 2013
To All Arkane ( Zandreya Imm Religion )
Subject -A Week of Contemplation-
Once in a while Kaerlia liked to return to her old home. It was covered
in nature: long grass up to her waist fluttered in the wind, ivy climbed up
the old house cracking the ancient stone, and animals flitted in between the
trees and foliage. Perhaps some people might think of it as being abandoned
but not Kaerlia. To her, this was perfect. Her home was protected and full
of life and she would not have wanted it any other way.
After looking around her old home, Kaerlia set out further into the wild
garden until she saw the old apple tree under which her mother was buried.
It was quite large now, after All these years. Small white flowers dotted
the green foliage of the tree, blooming in the midst of spring.
Kaerlia made her way to sit underneath the protective canopy of the tree,
her hands automatically dusting off her robes and patting the smooth fabric.
Looking up into the canopy, Kaerlia took a deep breath. She was always
comforted when she visited her mother's grave. It was simple with the only
"tombstone" that her mother needed: the apple tree that she had loved so
much during her life.
Over the years, Kaerlia returned to this place to pay respects to her mother
and to the nature within it but today was slightly different. She came here
to immerse herself within the garden and to think on what Mother Zandreya
had said to her: to guide those who had lost their path.
It inspired Kaerlia for she had always believed in second chances. Mistakes
were common but something could always be learned from them. Kaerlia knew
that first hand.
So Kaerlia sat beneath the apple tree and thought on the best way to guide
those who had lost their path.
Writer: Hanon
Date Wed May 22 13:22:15 2013
Writer: Dalathas
Date Wed May 22 16:28:57 2013
Writer: Dalathas
Date Wed May 22 17:14:58 2013
Writer: Mivakael
Date Wed May 22 18:37:42 2013
To All [ Sidorinath God Fatale ]
Subject Black Thoughts
The Great Black Wyrm settled down upon the small island of bone within
the acidic pool of his lair. His onyx eyes drifted up to the skull of the
Dragonslayer from the Clan Slayer his very first kill. He thought back to
the battle itself, replaying it within his mind. He was far from having
achieved his full power, but he wanted to ensure that he was the very best
he could be when that happened. The only way to do so was to put himself in
the thick of things, and so he waited, at the Crossroads of Althainia, for
those hunters who desired to claim the head of a Chromatic. His head. He
waited, and if he was lucky, they came.
To date, he had never lost a battle. However, there was one he was forced
to flee from, and the mere thought of such infuriated him to no end. The
Shalonesti Elf was far more experienced than he, with All the agility of the
Elves. He had come close to killing the pointy ears several times - but the
pointy ears had come close to killing him, as well. In the end, he was
forced to flee. Unlike others of the land, when he died, he lost some of
his life force. Lose enough and was dead. Permanently. This fact seemed
to be a large deterrent to other Firstborne. His Elders scoffed at him for
openly seeking battle. For his bloodlust. For his desire to slaughter the
enemies of God. To Mivakael, this was what Dragons were born to do. They
were not born to sit and whittle away the hours, days, weeks, months and
years tucked safely away in lairs. There mere thought disgusted him.
Yet, he recalled the wise words of the Blue Sidorinath. Though he may
desire battle, there were ways to go about finding it, other then openly
challenging the Fleshlings. Thinking on the Blue's words, the Black spread
his wings and took to the air, flying up and out of his brand new lair. It
was time to hunt. A trail of acid smoke spewed forth from twin slits in his
snout that served as nostrils. As he soared upwards in a tight spin, he
opened his massive maw and bursting forth was a steady stream of acid that
he flew right through, not paying any mind to the death-cries of those below
unlucky enough to be in its path.
Writer: Nikkia
Date Wed May 22 23:28:15 2013
To Shalonesti ( All )
Subject Paving My Own Path Part 1
No one had expected it. No one saw it coming, not even the twins. The
thought of sweet, young Nikkia leaving had never even been a possibility to
cross their minds. After all, she was the daughter of Kurrtor Valerius.
She was a decent Wilder maiden who was raised know her duty in the tribe.
The young men in the tribe sought for her hand and Papa would soon choose
her life mate. What would drive her to turn her back on the only life she
has ever known and venture to the city?
Mykke and Lykke, her older brothers had been planning to leave to the city
of Shalonesti for years. But lately it was All that they talked about.
They were destined to fight in the fray and defend the Elven Kingdom. They
had always known this since they were young, the whole tribe knew their
destiny and had always been supportive of their progress. Now it was their
time to leave. They had served their people well and were deemed ready for
their travel to the City. So tonight was their celebration.
Nikkia peered through a crack in the doorway of the small wooden hut. The
sky was getting dark and a few of the men in the village had just lit the
multiple fire pits that were scattered around the clearing. They had spent
all day roasting boar and birds and such and the smell filled the forest
air. Some villagers began to pound on the large drums as a few of the young
girls began to dance, arms locked together. The celebration had begun.
Nikkia hadnt packed much. After All with a Wilder lifestyle you never had
many possessions. She had a few extra clothes, some fruits and berries for
the trip, and of course her mothers necklace tucked away in her pocket. She
slipped out of the hut and quickly ducked behind a near tree. She looked
towards the gathering around the fire and first she spotted Lykke. He was
gathered with the other young hunters close to one of the pits. Circled
around the largest fire were the elders Mykke sat among them and Papa had an
arm around his shoulder. She could hear her old mans bellied laugh even
over the drumming and chatter.
Of Mykke and Lykke leaving, Papa would be most proud. Once he found out
that she left for the city well that was a reaction that no one would want
to witness. Papa was over protective of her, to an extreme. He always had
been and he had his reasons too. Nikkia had been born prematurely, somehow
she survived but her mother hadnt been able to make it through the labor.
Things were hard on Papa after that, he was left with two young boys and
this tiny vulnerable baby. It had created this deep bond between them. But
even now, as Nikkia is full grown he still saw her as this tiny helpless
girl.
She truly loved Papa and she would never want to hurt him, but he just
couldnt understand. He could never see why she would want to leave the
protection of the forest and the simple life of a Wilder. The city was too
dangerous for a little one like her, and even the twins thought so. Nikkia
had to go, something deep inside of her was calling her to go. She couldnt
explain it exactly All she knew was that is was something she had to do. So
Nikkia pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, covering her frizz of
blonde hair. She took one last glance at Papa, sitting in the glow from the
large fire, before turning her back to the small village
Writer: Pa'tarith
Date Thu May 23 01:43:59 2013
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