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Shining Force Central Forums > RPG Gallery > SFCW: Headquarters

Posted by: Rusty Fri Nov 09, 2007 2:59 am
((º.º))

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Fri Nov 09, 2007 3:00 am
((Reminder that this fort woud not exist without Zook and Cedric and you all owe them your gratitude as well as rent money))

Posted by: Knight_019 Fri Nov 09, 2007 3:07 am
((Merkass has already marked his territory))

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Fri Nov 09, 2007 4:10 am

QUOTE (Knight_019 @ Fri Nov 09, 2007 3:07 am)
((Merkass has already marked his territory))

((I told you this before, Knight. You can't claim the baths as your room.
That goes for Faralon too.))

Posted by: Dark Maiden Fri Nov 09, 2007 4:33 am
Aww, that's not nice.

Posted by: Rusty Fri Nov 09, 2007 4:49 am
((Well, at least my characters take baths. And is it just me or is this suddenly an OOC thread?))

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Fri Nov 09, 2007 4:55 am

QUOTE (Rusty @ Thu Nov 08, 2007 10:49 pm)
((Well, at least my characters take baths. And is it just me or is this suddenly an OOC thread?))

"Rusty is a jerk," Zook says.

Posted by: Kaihaku Fri Nov 09, 2007 9:25 am
Nestled in the smallest of valleys between two sheer cliffs that rise into mountain ranges for as far as the eye can see to east or west is the old border keep, Fort Ordalia. Currently only a handful of stone buildings, unprotected by wall or moat stand alongside the mountain pass they protect. A simple, spartan barracks structure, a small house for servants, a large mess hall and kitchen about the size of a small taver, a stone vault that acts as the armory, and a brick building with a sign nailed over it: "Training Room." The trail to the abandoned silver mine, a small path crawling up the mountain to the right is labelled by a wooden signpost jammed into the ground.
All of the buildings are gray stone and mortar, simple and without decoration. From the outside they appear a bit worn down, but far from becoming unliveable. Whether left over from its brief period as a manned outpost or placed here by some kind Royal Surveyor, several cords of firewood are stacked neatly against the wall of both kitchens and barracks.
A cold mountain wind buffets the pass, reduced dramatically by virtue of being shielded by the cliffs, but still more than enough to send chills up your spine. The site is a hive of activity, laborers busily constructing, expanding, improving...all under the careful guidance of Zook.
A few large tents hang around the buildings, taking full advantage of the protection provided from the stone, and wisps of smoke drift into the heavens from them.
His blue cloak flapping in the cold wind, Sir Theodoric stands a short distance away, wearing dark armor devoted to the hunt striped from the corpse of a foe long ago. His hands rests on his hammer as he watches the work proceed in the frigid weather.
Sophie slips from one of the tents, carrying a large basket, and walks among the workers, handing out hot buns fresh from the oven and mugs of piping hot tea. She prays a blessing over a few of the more frail workers, asking the Light to protect them from the biting cold.
Her basket is nearly empty when her eyes light on the paladin standing like a statue in the center of the valley, unprotected and apparently indifferent to the frigid wind. The priestess frowns, wrapping her shawl around her tighter and steps over to the knight.
"Sir Cedric..." The priestess smiles warmly as she approaches, "I've brought you some tea and a bit of fresh bread." Her hand shaking a bit in the chill, she pulls out a pitcher and a mug, pouring out hot tea.
"Thank you, that was very kind of you." The paladin replies with a detached smile, his eyes distant as he reaches to take the mug with gauntleted hand.
The priestess slides the pitcher back into the basket, pulling out a bun and offering it to him, asking in a concerned voice, "Isn't that armor freezing?"
The paladin takes a deep gulp of the burning tea before taking the bun with a thankful nod, replying indifferently, "Yes."
"Why are you wearing it then?" The priestess asks with a puzzled frown, then shakes her head, "Come inside and warm up."
"I would be a poor leader and a poorer man if I did not face the same ordeals as those under my command." Cedric replies simply, his eyes following the workers.
Sophie glances at the tents where Alex and most of the combined Shining Forces were taking shelter from the cold, "That's..." She shakes her head, "No one else is standing around wearing full plate in this weather and everyone is coming inside to warm up... You could help with the construction if you wanted but after all the battles, I don't think anyone would begrudge you a place by the fire. Standing out here like this...it's not helping anyone."
The paladin looks down at the priestess with a frown.
Sophie falters under the cold stare.
"You remind me of one of my old friends..." Cedric finally says with a sad smile, beginning to walk slowly towards the tents.
Sophie stands there in the wind, watching him greet the workers and speak friendly words to them as he makes his way to the sanctuary of warmth, before she continues handing out the least of the tea and buns.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sun Nov 18, 2007 6:13 am
Anri was sleeping. "She's been doing a lot of that ever since we grabbed her from the clutches of the Strife Lords..." Max thought to himself as he sat on the other bed in the small room. Part of him was embarassed in a way, to share a room with her. The beautiful queen and the legendary hero, sharing a room in an isolated elven village... What would people say?
Kria's prodding questions flashed in his mind and Max blushed.
"What would they say indeed..." he muttered, turning to gaze at the queen again. She looked so peaceful now, with her eyes closed. Her breathing was soft and steady, like a gentle whisper...
Max remembered her face back at the palace. Worn. Tired. Crazed.
"I did that to her..."
The thought came unbidden, unwelcome, and all too anticipated. It was followed swiftly by the words of the traitor.
" Devotion does have limits, after so many years, some forgot you...but certainly some could not, would not believe that you had abandoned them." A hint of cruel amusement enters the whispered voice, "One of them only became more desperate that you would not be sacrificed and left for dead as the years past. Again and again she attempted to resurrect you... Her magic was flawless but there was a flaw in her knowledge." Astrid laughs mockingly, "You were still alive. The fool gave everything...duty, honor, and even her own kingdom to save you but you never needed saving." She continues knowingly, "In the end, she sacrificed her people for you and now she's... Well, you make it perfectly clear what is of importance to you and it is not the lives of your comrades...or shall I say vassals? Well, clear to everyone but them...everyone but her...so, I won't want waste your time with unimportant details."
Astrid's words hung in Max's mind, lingering and poisoning the leftover feeling of happiness from the feast.
"It's my fault..." Max thought. "If I had found a way... If I had stayed in touch..."
Anri's haunted eyes as she stood in the grand hall of Guardiana appeared in Max's mind, then melted into the image of a beautiful, kind, gentle woman sitting under a tree, sketching a festival with a small smile. The easy jokes, the dancing, the conversation about normal things, not war strategy...
"It... It could've been normal... We could've been... like that..."
The smoking ruins of Guardiana surfaced in Max's mind.
"But... My fault... I failed you... I drove you to madness."
Max looked at the sleeping queen. That was why he had to be there. He had to protect her now because he didn't before. Had to be there for her now because he wasn't there when she needed him. And now... It was clear to Max how Anri must feel for him. It was also clear to him how he felt about her. He wasn't a fool, nor was he the naive kid he was when he first went off to war.
"No, now I have a different barrier..." Max thought, bitterly. "If... If I drove her mad... What other damage could I do? What sort of hell might I cause for her even with the best of intentions..."
Max shook his head.
"What do I do?"

Posted by: Kaihaku Fri Nov 23, 2007 4:20 am
[The morning of the day of the missions] [In order of contribution - Coventry, Sorel/Gail, Telanna, Hal, Zook] Sorel sits in the rough-hewn dining room, looking uncertainly down at a scone, a piece of fruit and a cup of steaming tea. He looks up, eyes scanning the room for the Doctor.
Ashathel walks through the room with a worried frown, his eyes tracing the floor pensively then as he passes the table where the elder druid sits, he abruptly stops and takes a step back, sliding into a chair with, "Morning."
Sorel looks at the Doctor wearily. "Must you?"
Ashathel looks at the elder quizzically, resting an elbow on the table and supporting his head with a hand, "You look tired."
"I should hope so," Sorel says dryly. "These days, the alternative is that I am dead."
"A dreadful alternative, indeed." Ashathel replies in a chipper yet reflective voice.
"Some days I am not so sure," Sorel says, looking down at the scone. "What is this supposed to be, exactly?"
Ashathel ponders this question, "I call it...elven womanizer with a dash of..." He grins winningly, "...charm."
"I meant this," Sorel replies, holding up the plate the scone is on and setting it back down. "I had just assumed that your guise was an attempt to create a less distinctive Dam Dicem. You were successful, by the way." He cuts off a tiny piece of fruit, putting it in his mouth and chewing slowly.
"I think it's called a..." Ashathel frowns with narrowed eyes, "...scone." He shrugs, his features melting away into the blandness of normality, "What grand schemes do you have planned for your minions today?"
"We are going to Tristan, to find out why Mitula is shut up in her temple," Sorel replies after taking a bite of the scone, chewing carefully. "I have not been in a long time, and the schemes aside, it will be good to see the place I grew up."
"I think she was dumped." The Doctor advises, taking a roll from a nearby basket with a frown, "It might be wise not to push her...unless, maybe you want to catch her on the rebound?"
Kai: Coventry plays basketball.
Vox: white mystics can't jump
"I think that your wit is wasted on me," Sorel replies. "There are plenty here who revere her, perhaps it would be better suited for them." A small smile creeps onto his face. "I am genuinely surprised you haven't managed to drive all the clergy mad."
"Unfortunately, they got to me first..." The Doctor replies impassively, taking a bite of the roll, "I've leapt into the abyss of insanity and shall never see the light of day again." He pauses thoughtfully, "I think I'll come along, I've always wanted to meet another deity."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"I'm going to come with you to Tristan and met the Goddess." The Doctor replies quietly, glancing around with a frown, "Is there any jam?"
Sorel hands the Doctor a small bowl filled with jam. Suddenly, he slumps his shoulders, groaning silently. "Hide me," he murmurs.
Coventry hears Hal's familiar footsteps trundling up from behind him
The Doctor takes the jam with a thankful nod, muttering some nonsensical words in a trembling voice before tapping the leg of the elder druid with his foot. Power courses through the druid, his features shifting to those of the village elder even while Coventry spreads the jam over his roll with a table knife.
"Good morning!" Hal says, taking a seat next to the transmogrified Sorel. "Enjoying your breakfast?"
"Good morning!" The Doctor says with a cheery smile, "It was ever so delightful until just a moment ago."
Sorel bites down on his bottom lip. "Good morning, brother," he manages to say after a moment.
Hal reaches for the basket of scones, taking a bite of one and putting it on a plate. "So!" he says with his mouth full. "Sleep well?"
"I had this terrible nightmare that the shadows came to life and tried to kill me..." The Doctor admits in a worried voice, "It even pierced the protection of the gods and caused holy champions to tremble in fear." He lets out a sigh, "I'm glad it was just a dream."
Hal chuckles. "I wonder if you've seen Sorel about? I'd like to talk to him."
"Sorel?" The Doctor frowns, glancing over his shoulder, "Why, does my nightmare remind you of him?"
Sorel takes a sip of his tea, never taking his eyes off the Doctor. He seems unwilling to look in Hal's direction.
Hal shakes his head. "I wanted to ask if he'd let me borrow Gail. We're headed to Shade Abbey, and I think it would do her some good to go there."
"Well, she does belong to your god, so I don't see why you need to ask permission." The Doctor replies, "Just tell her the orders come from higher up and I'm sure Sorel will find a way to cope, he's quite adaptable in the face of adversity."
Hal sighs. "You know what I meant."
"No, I'm afraid that I'm not quite certain what you meant, priest." The Doctor replies with a sweet smile, taking a sip of his tea, "But, assuredly, you have only the best intentions in mind. I'll pass them on to Sorel if I see him."
Sorel stares into Coventry's eyes for a moment, then shakes his head. "Dismiss the spell," he says quietly.
Hal looks at Sorel, confused.
The Doctor snaps a finger, lifting an apple from the table and taking a bite.
At once, the village elder melts away, leaving Sorel sitting there, still staring at the Doctor. "You may speak to Gail if you wish," he says to Hal without looking at him, "But I do not think she will agree."
Hal frowns. "You were hiding from me?"
Sorel offers a small, bitter smile. "It was petty of me," he says, "But yes."
The Doctor comments cheerily, "It's nice, to sit here with friends..." He sighs happily, "...and enjoy this delicious breakfast which the Light has provided." He takes another bite of the apple, chewing contently.
Hal looks from the Doctor to Sorel. "Very well," he says quietly, sliding off the bench and walking away with his scone.
The Doctor watches the priest step away, the jovial facade fading away and replaced with a spiteful glare. He turns back to the table and takes another bite of the apple.
"How did he hurt you?" Sorel asks quietly.
"What's that?" The Doctor begins with a smile forming then sighs with a shrugging, "He...didn't."
Sorel looks down at the half-eaten scone in front of him. "I spoke to her last night."
The Doctor sets down the apple, reaching for his tea with a frown, his voice quiet, "What happened?"
Sorel does not meet the Doctor's eyes. "I lost my temper."
"Did she?" The Doctor asks quietly.
"She did not have it to begin with."
The Doctor looks at his tea sadly, "I suppose not..."
"I saw something, last night, that I hadn't seen there before. There was a dress hanging from the tree. A lovely blue dress." He sighs. "I wonder how she got it."
"I bought it for her." The Doctor replies simply.
Sorel looks up. "When?"
"Yesterday." The Doctor replies, staring at his tea distantly, "It was pittance for my vulgarity...according to Sophia."
"It was not your fault," Sorel replies. "She would not have responded as she did if I had not been there."
"Am I a priest now?" The Doctor asks, "I'm not responsible for my part in things...because there were other influences?" He nods, "I see, good to know."
Sorel shakes his head. "You are responsible for what you did, but on its own what you did is little to atone for. If you had to buy clothing for every person whose feelings you hurt, you would be a pauper."
"Is that what happened to you?"
Sorel chuckles despite himself. "I hope not," he says. "As you can see I have no sense of fashion. I would need to atone for the clothing I had bought to atone."
"I suppose you would..." The Doctor says reflectively, "So, you lost your temper, what does that mean? Did you douse her with water?"
"I made her cry," is Sorel's response.
"I guess that's more of a light sprinkling with water then." The Doctor comments mirthlessly, looking at his breakfast with a growing scowl, "What a..." He pauses, jaw clenching, and then continues bitterly, "What a wonderful world." He sits there in silence then adds with a sigh, "Sorel, let's leave this and make it anew..."
"Leave what?"
"Never mind..." The Doctor waves his hand dismissively, "I'm..." He shrugs, "Tell me, what did he do to merit such a slight from you?"
Sorel smiles at the memory. "He tried to be me to me."
The Doctor nods, "That would do it."
"What about you?" Sorel asks again. "You seem to treat him with more than the usual contempt."
"He supports abortion."
Vox: is that real?
Kaihaku: No
Vox:
The Doctor laughs with weak scorn, running a finger over the tip of his cup, "...he...he's..." He frowns and shakes his head, "Forget it, it doesn't matter."
Sorel looks at the Doctor with sympathy, when he is struck by a question he had wanted to ask the night before. "When did you start calling yourself Doctor?"
"I hate the name...Alastor..." The Doctor says quietly, staring at his tea, "I would for aesthetic reasons alone...but then what it reminds me of, what it makes me..." He frowns at the thought, "After I left home, I took on...many a persona, flipping through face after face... Ah, Sorel, you can't imagine what a delight it was... But there was always something missing, some...emptiness..." He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling, "The Doctor is my way of reconciling all of me into one persona..." He chuckles, "...something encompassing enough to capture th..." His voice trails off as he lowers his head, looking back to the druid.
"How successful do you think you have been?" Sorel asks quietly.
"Successful?" The Doctor replies mirthfully, a twinkle in his eyes, "This is...something you can't understand... I can't explain it to you, it's something you have to experience..." He looks at the druid thoughtfully, "If you want to know me, you'll try it."
"I can try it?" Sorel replies.
"Of course, that's the beauty of life; one can be anything one wants to be…" The Doctor nods encouragingly, "So, here's what we'll do. I want you to approach Gail as me and retrieve my coat." He holds out his hands, "Sweet and simple, there's no harm to be done. My reputation can't get any more tarnished and Gail won't care." He pulls out a silver pocket watch and looks at the timeface thoughtfully before sliding it away, "She'll be finishing her morning prayers shortly...just in time." He pulls out his glasses and slides them across the table, "Please don't break them...and stop thinking about atonement, those old things aren't expensive."
"If she asks why you're wearing Sorelish robes...don't answer but say that this morning you were telling people about the trip to Tristan and discussing leadership stuff with Hal." The Doctor nods reassuringly, "It's the truth." Then he frowns thoughtfully, "Now, when you said that, Gail might pale...possibly show some signs of distress, maybe covering her mouth and looking around worriedly, but she won't scold you."
"Your priority in this is to retrieve my coat..." The Doctor smiles, "...well, that and come to a better understanding of me... But, when you find her, she'll most likely take the initiative in returning the coat and start thanking you. That was easy, so to make things a bit more challenging, I want you to bring her back here for breakfast." He chuckles at the thought, "That's how we'll end the farce, with the two of you joining me here. If she sees through you before that, well...that would be a failure and I'd never tell you another thing about me again. I'll just wither up alone and miserable until I look like you." He frowns, "Oh, make sure to ask if she's feeling better this morning. She was...unsettled last night."
Sorel leans forward, taking the glasses in his hands. He stares into Coventry's eyes, and his own begin to darken. His hair becomes shorter and even, filling with a light brown color. Decades melt off of Sorel's face and it becomes youthful and nondescript. Sorel smirks confidently, and the transformation is complete. "Odd. I do not feel more irritating."
"Well, that's a good sign because I'm much less irritating than you…" The Doctor replies with a frown, "You can change your appearance that easily and you never did?" He shakes his head, "What a waste... What a terrible waste..." He sighs heavily, "One more thing, you have to have fun doing it or this will all be pointless." The Doctor looks at the Doctor sternly, "If you want to understand this about me, you have to enjoy it."
Sorel/Coventry appears to concentrate for a moment, before offering the real Doctor a wide, though thin-lipped smile. "Me? Fun? Really, Doctor, you should know better."
"There's a free spirit somewhere deep inside that weathered old man just screaming to get out..." The Doctor replies before taking a bite of his roll.
The Doctor-ganger smiles again, before sliding off the bench and walking away. "Enjoy your meal."
"See you in a bit." The Doctor smiles.

QUOTE
Not much later, Gail hears a tuneful whistling while she concludes her morning prayers. "Good morning," she hears the Doctor say in a chipper voice, followed by an extended pause. "Early to bed, early to rise...something about laying waste to the hordes of evil."
A deep breath and a sigh emit from the paladin, a moment's pause while Gail finishes her prayer. "I suppose that's apt...I'm hoping we won't have to deal with any hordes, today, but preparation is the best policy."
When Gail turns around, she sees a bizarre sight: The Doctor, glasses and all, wearing what look for all the world like Sorel's robes. He grins. "Miss me?"
Gail's brow furrows at the sight, quirking a brow at the Doctor's words. "What do you mean? We spoke...oh." She looks down to the coat she clutched around her shoulders. "Right." Taking the loose trench coat off, she folds it neatly, bending it at the waist, and again at the elbow. She then presents it to him, waiting for him to take it.
The Doctor in Sorel's clothing takes the coat, brow furrowed briefly as he looks down at it. Then he clucks his tongue approvingly. "So dutiful...I didn't even have to ask. Truth be told, I was expecting a bit more resistance." He looks up, humor twinkling in his eyes. "I trust it kept you warm?"
A slight blush colors Gail's face at the last comment, but she soon recovers, chuckling. "It would have kept me warmer if there wasn't a gap in the side," she teases with a good-natured grin. "And I wouldn't keep something that you seem so attached to...though, I might get one of my own." She then looks at the Doctor's change of dress. "Why are you..?"
For once, he doesn't pause before speaking. "Because I feel like a man reborn!" He takes her hand with his free one and leads her forward. "If you had any idea how dismal I felt when the sun rose this morning, how frail, how positively beaten, you would never have guessed how I feel now. It is like...it's like digging for a well, and giving up when you've hit bedrock. Then, a moment later, a geyser of water lifts you into the sky!" He laughs joyfully, releasing Gail's hand and looking at her, beaming. "Look at me! Am I not lovely? Am I not happy? Am I not alive?"
Gail starts at Alastor's joyous yawp, before letting herself be dragged around by the shouting doctor. She stares at the man as if he had transformed before her eyes, lost in the Doctor's outpouring of euphoria. When his speech ends, the maiden can only stare at him for a moment, the memory of him only a few days before still fresh in her mind.
The man who would be Doctor sighs, shaking his head. "Alright, enough prattle. Let's go to breakfast!"
Gail lets out another chuckle, this one marred by hurt, which she quickly stifles. She stands there, looking away from the man who would be Doctor. "Is...Is that how you really feel," she asks, turning back to look into the man's eyes with a weak smile, "Sorel?"
"Yes," he replies, still smiling. "Yes, it absolutely is. Now come on!"
Gail looks after Sorel for a moment, her head nodding slowly. "Yes...Alright. Breakfast sounds lovely." She steps after the faux-doctor, her smile stronger. "Do you know what we're having today?"
"Scones and fruit," the Doctor-ganger responds. "I have half a scone left that I didn't really want when I left...but now I could eat ten." They walk a while more and arrive where breakfast is being served. He takes Gail's hand again, leading her towards a far table. "Now, I want you to try and play along, at least until we sit down."
Gail looks to the impostor with a confused smile, amused by the druid's actions. "Play along with what?"
But Sorel merely raises a finger to his lips as they approach the table where he and the Doctor had sat.

A few minutes after Sorel leaves, Telanna arrives, taking a seat a few feet removed from the Doctor. She cradles an apple in her hands, and stares at it.
"Morning there, pondering how best to attack that fruit?" The Doctor asks jovially, a twinkle in his eyes, "Normally, I go with a bite followed by chewing and topped off with a swallow."
Telanna looks up suddenly. "What? Oh, sorry. Good morning. I was just thinking. Not about the apple, I mean."
"Thinking about..." The Doctor holds a finger to his chin thoughtfully, then guesses, "...Sorel."
"No I wasn't," Telanna lies easily. "I was thinking about that lovely dress you bought me."
"You're so suave..." The Doctor chuckles lightly, taking another roll from the basket, "So, then, what do you plan to about the dress?" He looks at her knowingly, "I think it's barely holding together, personally, and could use some mending."
Telanna's face sets in concern, but the troubled expression evaporates a moment later. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she says airily. "But come on, what did you mean by that? I just got the dress yesterday!"
"Oh, I guess you did." The Doctor says as if surprised, "How about that... Suits you nicely too."
Telanna scoots down the bench to sit where Sorel had been sitting, and takes a bite of her apple. She looks down at her father's half-finished scone. "Do you know whose this is?"
"I think the Doctor was chewing on it." The Doctor replies thoughtfully as he spreads jam on his roll, "…or maybe it was the village elder, I just can't remember…" He shrugs, "What's the difference between the two though, really?"
Telanna frowns, looking around. "Do you think they'll be coming back for it?"
"I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you finished it." The Doctor shrugs, looking at her intently, "How did you sleep last night?"
Telanna looks at the Doctor suspiciously. "What's with all the pointed questions?"
"Hi Telanna, how are you this morning? Did you sleep well?" The Doctor replies dryly, "Real loaded those…"He shrugs, "Well... We can talk about something else if you prefer..."
"I slept fine," Telanna replies, rubbing her eyes as she takes a bite of the scone in front of her. "Slept like a baby."
"That poorly?" The Doctor winces, "What troubled your sleep?"
"You want to know? Fine. I had a visitor last night. He came, spat on my mother's grave, then left me alone. Again." Telanna takes another bite of the scone. "I don't know why he does it."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"What am I supposed to do about it?!" Telanna snaps, before lowering her voice again. "What do you want me to do? I'm not going somewhere where he can't find me. That's--that's my home. I'm not letting him take that from me too."
"What made you think I want you to do anything about it?" The Doctor replies softly, "I'm not telling you what to do... I don't know what you should do..." He looks at her sadly, "It's your life, not mine. You're the authority on your own life, not me. Some people just like processing things out loud...I guess you aren't one of them." He takes a bite of his roll.
"I just don't think there's anything more to process," Telanna says after a moment. She sounds uncertain. "It's over. Done. The matter is closed. Problem is he can't see that. Or won't." She sighs, and when she speaks again her voice is tinged with a tired desperation. "You must know him better than I do. I'm asking you. What should I do?"
"Obviously, it's not done." The Doctor replies after chewing and swallowing, "Else his visit wouldn't have hurt you as much as it did." He sighs, "But what should you do? I don't know what you should do…but I can spit out all kinds of sage advice, tossing out all the easy answers that sound so good but fail so miserably…" He pauses before adding, "…if you want."
Telanna stares at the Doctor for a moment. "What would you do?"
"I'd run away…" The Doctor replies impassively, reaching for the jam, "Abandon everything I held dear, sacrifice all I loved on the altar of pain and live an indulgent empty life in a farce of true happiness…" He begins spreading the jam on his roll, "All the while, dying inside until the day that…that…" He hesitates, then points the table knife at her with a sad smile, "Fortunately, you aren't me." He lowers the knife, picking up his roll and looking at it thoughtfully, "You're not a coward…" He takes a bite of his roll.
Telanna's expression changes subtly. She whispers, "You're not lying."
"So, what are you going to do?" The Doctor replies, "You could wait him out, he's old, and he’ll die…soon enough…" He looks into her eyes, "…you could just continue flailing at him every time he shows some backbone. At least he's got that, if I had hurt you as he did, you'd never see me again." He trails off suggestively, "You could…"
"I could what?"
"You tell me." The Doctor says with a shrug, taking another bite of his roll.
Telanna stares at the Doctor, then she folds her arms and lowers her head into them. She is still for a few minutes. "I don't want to live like this anymore. I don't want to wake up feeling this way."
"How does it feel?"
Telanna looks up, and the Doctor sees that her eyes are red and raw, though she isn't crying. "It feels..." she pauses, trying to find the words, "It's like I'm in the dark, just reaching out, looking for something to hold onto, something to tell me which way is up. Something to tell me where I should be."
"If you ever find truth…that voice of guidance that shows you the way…" The Doctor says quietly, "Let me know." He reaches across the table and takes her hand, "For what it's worth, my sage advice is… It should hurt… Never doubt that, it should hurt, regardless of fault or reason." He squeezes her hand slightly, "The two might not seem reconcilable but they are...hurt and forgiveness." He hesitates, "True forgiveness has to reconcile the two, not just…" He laughs, "Never mind, come with me." He looks at her with sudden enthusiasm, "This is too deep for breakfast, I want to show you something."
Telanna takes the last bite of scone and pops it into her mouth, chewing it as she watches the Doctor. She gulps. "Alright," she says. "Show me."
The Doctor whispers something fluidly and magic flows from his fingers into her, "Don't be startled..." He smiles reassuringly, "I'm with you, just trust me."
"Trust you?" Telanna asks playfully. "Who in their right mind would trust--"
The two vanish from the table.
The druidess is surrounded by cool liquid, it presses upon her on all sides, surging into her mouth and up her nose. Her vision is cloudy, obscured in those first few seconds, the only thing of substance remaining in the world is the hand still holding hers. Then her eyes adjust to the murk and she finds that the liquid bubbles into air in her mouth.
She is standing on a bed of fine sand, light twinkling down from a crystalline ceiling of waves above, on all sides mountains of rock raise above her in nearly every shape imaginable and in every color of the rainbow. In neat formations, schools of brilliantly tinted fish dart around this valley while larger varieties sleekly cut through the waters above. Stranger creatures cling to the rock; lone validly styled fish flit from rock to rock, balls of vicious spikes, serpentine shapes slide along smoothly, balls of soft rock with tentacles roll along, and an endless myriad of others.
Telanna looks around the coral reef, her eyes wide with wonder. The beauty and serenity of the place fill her heart with happiness, the same way the grove does. She turns her head, and her orange hair fans out like a tail of flame. "This is amazing!" she shouts, her voice muffled and distorted somewhat by the water.
The Doctor releases her hand with an enthusiastic nod, skipping slowly through the waters and twirling to face her shouting, "I know!"
"How did you find it?"
"I ran away from my mom!" The Doctor laughs, turning away to look at the mountains all around him.
Telanna's smile fades a bit at this, but she follows the Doctor. "Have you shown it to anyone else?"
"Not yet." The Doctor replies without turning, bending down and picking up a colorful shell half embedded in sand, "I was thinking of having a luncheon here sometime though."
The druidess looks profoundly touched at the thought that she was the first person he had shared this with. She moves a little closer to him. "You're a bastard, Alastor Coventry. But you can be very sweet sometimes, you know that?"
The Doctor shrugs, replying darkly as he slides the shell in a pocket, "Isn't that part of being a bastard?"
"I hope so," Telanna says softly, not intending the Doctor to hear.
The Doctor, not hearing, turns back with a faint smile, "Well, it's a nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live here."
"Where would you want to live?" Telanna asks. "If you could live anywhere in the world."
"I can live anywhere in the world." The Doctor replies, "I think I'll wander until the day I die." He adds in a quieter voice, "There's no such thing as home for some people."
"Are you sure?"
"Take a look around." The Doctor replies quietly.
"What do you see?"
"Never mind, come on, let's finish break…" He blinks as a thought strikes him, "Oh, the Doctor and Gail will be there soon!" He holds out a hand to the druidess, "We need to get back!"
Telanna instinctively reaches out and touches the Doctor's hand. "What are you talking abou--"
A dripping soaking wet Doctor and a dripping soaking wet Telanna appear in the middle of the dining room.
The Doctor shakes his hands with a grimace, muttering in disgust, "I forgot again..."
Telanna looks down, mortified, at the way her wet clothes cling to her body. She wraps her arms around herself, murmuring words of warmth. "Avert your eyes!" she says sharply to the Doctor, having not yet noticed the others.
"I have four sisters and I'm a shape shifter." The Doctor replies wryly, looking away from her, "You should relea..." He frowns at the others in the room and chuckles weakly, "Well, we aren't alone, quick I'll turn into something no one will leer at." He touches her on the shoulder while speaking twisted words, "Don't resist."
Telanna pulls away. "No! I don't want to hide from anyone." Small flames appear in her hands, and they dry her clothing rapidly, though her hair is still sopped.
She tugs the tunic away from her chest, letting it hang as it usually does. She looks at the Doctor, bedraggled strands of wet orange hair still hanging in her face. "There. How do I look?"
The Doctor makes no response, already stepping back over to the table and taking a seat with as great a show of dignity as one soaking wet can make.
Sorel/Coventry drags Gail to a corner of the room. "Come, come, have a seat. We'll--" he stops dead, staring at the scene.
Telanna shakes her head, sitting as well.
Gail stares at the faux doctor for a moment, expecting him to finish his sentence, before she follows his eyes to the scene of the actual Doctor and Telanna. "Why is he sopping wet...," she muses, trailing off as she considers the unpleasant possibilities.
"Why...why are they..." Sorel looks dumbfounded, before his eyes fix on something concrete. "Where is my scone?"
At this Telanna looks behind her, seeing Gail, and the Doctor in Sorel's clothing, holding Sorel's staff, and the Doctor's coat. She looks hastily back to the Doctor she had been eating with. "So..."
Gail turns to Sorel, her hand resting on her chair. "Would you like me to get you another while I'm getting my own?"
"I...no," Sorel says flatly, taking a seat next to the real Doctor.
Telanna stares at her father. Not taking her eyes off of him, she reaches for her apple, missing and knocking it onto the floor. Her eyes flick to the Doctor. "What's going on?"
"I'm going to wither up miserable and alone." The Doctor replies dejectedly, taking a bite of his roll and frowning at the taste of salt water, "This is nothing like I envisioned."
"What do you mean?" Sorel asks, as his face becomes sallow and grey, his hair wild and white, his eyes bright, clear green.
Gail looks from Coventry to Coventry to Telanna, hand covering her conflicted frown. Eventually, she sighs, taking a free seat as her hand remains hiding her lips.
Telanna stares numbly down at the plate, mouthing, "Where is my scone..." she looks up at the Doctor. "You know, a little forewarning might have been nice!"
The Doctor sighs heavily, tossing his roll onto the table with a frown, "I guess so..."
Sorel sighs in kind. His good mood is all but gone. "I cannot do it," he says. "I do not understand you. I should stop trying." He shakes his head. "I feel like there was a moment where I almost had it. Then Gail started talking."
"You give up easily…" The Doctor replies idly tipping his fingers in his tea, "Well..." He flicks drops of tea and salt water at Sorel, "I guess no one can really understand another person."
Telanna pointedly doesn't look at Sorel. "Please explain," she says to the Doctor quietly.
Sorel ignores the Doctor's idle harassment, staring intently at his daughter.
The Doctor sighs, "Sorel wanted to know who I was; I told him the best way to find out was to be me." He shrugs, "So, I gave him a quest to retrieve my coat. Then you came and ate his scone." He frowns, "That was mean."
Sorel's face contorts slightly and his eyes flick to the Doctor. His expression calms as he studies Coventry.
"I don't get it," Telanna says. "If someone can't understand someone, how could they possibly be him?"
"I guess I'm kind of dim-witted for suggesting it then." The Doctor replies ruefully.
Telanna pulls a face. "Sometimes I..." she shakes her head, "Sorry it didn't work out."
"Failure is what gives life its zest." The Doctor shrugs with a faint smile, "How enjoyable would life be if we were all perfect like Gail?"
Gail glares at the Doctor's quip. "Please don't call me that...and very enjoyable, thank you very much," she responds defensively.
Sorel rummages around in his pouch and pulls out a smooth, fresh red apple. He rolls it around in his hands, looking at it.
The Doctor glances at Gail apologetically before turning to the elder druid, "So, you've started carrying around your own supply of fruit?" He smiles, "That's encouraging, soon you'll be sleeping and dancing and raising sheep. Just like a normal member of humanity."
"This was a gift," Sorel says quietly. "You don't remember?"
Telanna turns to Gail, running her hands through her rapidly drying and kinking hair. "I don't suppose you have a hairbrush on you?"
Gail shakes her head apologetically. "Sorry. My backpack's all the way back with my bedroll."
"That's where it would be...I keep most everything in there," she adds quickly in explanation.
The Doctor looks at the apple with genuine surprise, "You kept it?"
"Of course I did," Sorel responds. "You did not expect me to throw it away."
Telanna nods. "Thanks anyway..." She stands up. "See you around Gail and Alastor!" Then she departs, to make her hair behave.
He watches Telanna depart, his eyes troubled.
Gail waves cheerfully to Telanna, smiling politely as she leaves the dining room. The maiden glances at Sorel for a moment, then returns her eyes to the table.
The Doctor looks after her sadly, "Farewell."
After a moment, he tilts his head back to the druid, "You could have given it to some orphans or something." He smiles, "I'm glad you didn't though."
"Given the way I acted toward you in Hassan, I suppose it was but a matter of time before I did something right by accident," Sorel says dryly.
"You've never treated me wrongly, Sorel." The Doctor replies quietly.
Sorel bows his head. "I was so close...I was so eager to see how she would react. And then she did, and it fell apart."
He looks up at Gail. "I am sorry for misleading you, for however brief a time I was successful."
"You just need practice." The Doctor smiles, "Hard as it is to believe, I wasn't born this talented."
"No, it's alright. It...just wasn't something I was ready for," she admits with a grimace. She turns back to Sorel, a slight pause interrupting her intent. "...I forgive you."
"Thank you," Sorel says. "To you both. It means a great deal to me to hear you say those things."
The Doctor laughs heartily, "We'll make a fraud of you yet!"
Sorel raises an eyebrow at the Doctor. "Are you sure I am not too much of a...fuddy-duddy?"
"You're not a priest."
"And thank the gods for that," Sorel replies, smiling.
"Indeed." The Doctor nods in firm agreement, "I might have even become a priest if it hadn't been for those gods."
Sorel rises. "I must be off." He looks at the remaining pair. "I will leave you two alone."
The Doctor raises a hand dripping with sea water, "Later..."
Sorel saunters off.
The Doctor sits in silence for a moment looking up at the paladin, "I'm sorry, I didn't think it would unnerve you..." He smiles sadly, "...and I certainly didn't intend to put more weight on your shoulders."
Gail, having been watching the druid go, snaps out of her reverie to listen to the Doctor. She shakes her head when he finishes. "No, please...you have nothing to be sorry for. You couldn't have known...I didn't." Her eyes fall away when her voice does, staring into space.
"What thought captures you so?" The Doctor asks, looking at her intently
Gail closes her eyes at the question, organizing her thoughts before she speaks. "...How I reacted to him...even if it wasn't you, I should have...I should have been happy. I should have rejoiced with him, should have celebrated a new found love of life. It shouldn't have mattered who he was." She pauses, a hand covering her face before shortly fleeing. "Instead, I was lost, confused...suspicious. I saw your face, heard your voice shouting from the top of your lungs about how you felt renewed, restored to the world...and my first thought was that something was wrong." She stops at that for a long while, not meeting the Doctor's eyes.
"When I realized what was going on," she begins again, her own voice soft, "I felt... lied to. It wasn't that he wasn't happy, but that...that it wasn't you feeling that way." She stares straight into Alastor's eyes. "He was happy. He really, truly was. I...I simply took that away." her stare falls to the table, the confession finished. "It's...enlightening."
"What did it feel like, to be lied to?" The Doctor asks quietly.
Gail looks at the Doctor strangely, but the look passes, the paladin considering the question. "It feels like...your feet have been cut from under you, or the wind's been knocked out of you. It's something you don't expect, and it hurts when it finally comes at you." She stops, looking at the Doctor. "...But that's not the point, is it? It shouldn't matter who I expect to see happy or who I expect to be sad...shouldn't I be laughing and crying with them? Why should I feel that...," she pauses, her voice returning weak and uncertain, "that one deserves something more than the other?"
The Doctor listens quietly, a fond smile slowly crossing his face as she continues, replying as she grows silent, "You know, I agree with you."* He looks at her for a long moment, then nods softly, "…More than you do with yourself."
*In reference to...

QUOTE
Gail glares at the Doctor's quip. "Please don't call me that...and very enjoyable, thank you very much," she responds defensively.

He sits silently for a long moment, pondering some thought, then says simply, "I'll never lie to you again." He then reaches for a scone and examines it intently, pondering aloud, "I wonder how they make these things…"
Gail watches the Doctor appraise the buttery, breakaway breakfast roll. "I'm not sure...I never took to cooking, as much as my mother tried to teach me. Surely Hal would know, seeing as he cooks all this."
"Your mother is a superb cook…" The Doctor frowns at the pastry for a moment longer, "How is she?" He takes a bite thoughtfully
"I don't know...I sent her a letter, some money...thought it was time I sent something back home. She hasn't sent anything back...and how could she? We're always moving, she wouldn't know where I am. Probably a letter waiting for me back in Granseal," she muses..
"I suppose we have a headquarters now." The Doctor smiles, "So, she can send you letters there now." His smile widens, "Maybe she'll even send you cakes. If so, you should share."
Gail chuckles lightly at the thought. "We should be so lucky. I haven't tasted one of her cakes since I was a little girl." She then stops for a moment, thinking. "How do you think it will look?"
"Dreadfully utilitarian without a lick of aesthetics…" The Doctor replies with a smile, "…but I bet the view from the mountains is glorious." He sighs, "Especially this time of year."
"I'd hope so," Gail agrees, her eyes soon taking on a distant, starry quality. "The morning dawn on the mountains...It must look incredible."
"Yes, incredible..." The Doctor nods, looking at her thoughtfully, "Are you not hungry? You haven't touched a thing..."
Gail sighs at the Doctor's observation. "I haven't, have I? I suppose I forgot my appetite...it's been an involving morning already, there hasn't been much chance to grab a scone."
"Please, don't mind me, you know I like to watch you eat." The Doctor says playfully as he takes a sip of his salty tea.
The maiden dons a cool glare at the playful quip...before it breaks into a smile, Gail rising to get some breakfast. "What about yourself? Would you like something, while I'm up," she asks, glancing at the nearly drained tea cup. "More tea, perhaps?"
"That would be delightful..." The Doctor replies pleasantly, "Though, I also wouldn't be opposed to a towel if you happen across one on your epic quest to find breakfast."
"I'll try my best during my noble endeavor," Gail states, upturning her face in pride, before a chuckle breaks the facade. "I can't promise anything, though; you know how sneaky those can be," she says playfully, departing to the breakfast table with a cheerful wave.
The Doctor watches her depart with a smile, then turns to soggily shift in his chair as he awaits her return, staring at his near empty mug of tea thoughtfully. After a long moment, he suddenly sits upright, feeling his pockets and looking around with a frown, "That…old dodger… He still has my glasses."
Nothing to be done, he lets out an annoyed sigh and goes back to waiting silently.
Gail returns in short order, carrying a bowl of steaming oatmeal in her left hand while her right balances two cups of tea. Setting her meal down on the table, she reaches for one of the cups, easing the drink off warily and handing it to the Doctor, waiting patiently for him to take it.
The Doctor takes the offered tea with a thankful nod.
A relieved sigh leaves Gail's lips, having not dropped anything or everything all over the ground, and she takes her rightful seat once more, setting the tea down with conscious care. She then turns to the oatmeal, stirring in the sparse layer of cinnamon on top before taking a spoonful, blowing lightly, and swallowing. "I've been meaning to ask," she says in between bites, "where exactly did you go to end up looking like you just passed through a rainstorm?"
The Doctor watches her with a smile, one which only deepens at her question. He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a silver shell with rainbow sheen, offering it to her as he replies, "The bottom of the ocean."
Gail's gazes fixes on the shell's prismatic shine, before her ears prick at where it was found, glancing from the shell, wide-eyed, to the Doctor, and back again. She begins to reach for the object...but pulls back, her expression shifting to one of worry, as if simply breathing too hard could crumble it. She turns an expectant glance to the Doctor, asking with a whisper, "May I?"
“Of course…” The Doctor laughs as he reaches forward and slides the shell into the palm of her hand, “I got it for you.” He leans back into his seat, lifting up his cup and blowing on the hot liquid within, “You should come with me sometime…” Then he smiles ruefully, laughing at himself under his breath, “…but…maybe not in ordinary clothing…” He takes a sip of his tea, shaking his head ever so lightly.
Gail stares at the gift, smiling simply at the gesture and its beauty. "Thank you," she whispers while she carefully pockets the colorful aquatic home, stowing it in her haversack, where it would be safe. The Doctor's next comment makes her blush, however, unsure of his meaning. "What...What would you suggest, then?"
"Something a bit more waterproof…" The Doctor replies with a sigh, "…or at least easier to dry…" He glances up at her, mischief in his eyes, "Why? What did you think I meant?"
"I...I wasn't sure," she admits, sighing and looking away after a strained moment's pause. "I suppose that wool wouldn't be a smart choice for the ocean..."
The Doctor raises his tea to her, "Agreed." The Doctor lowers his cup, looking at the maiden thoughtfully, "You really aren't very good at taking care of yourself, are you?"
"What makes you think that," she asks tensely, her brow furrowing in suspicion.
"Many things..." The Doctor nods to her oatmeal, "At the moment though, you've forgotten about eating again."
Gail's brow raises in surprise, and she looks back to her oatmeal, the steam now gone from her breakfast. Her shoulders slump slightly at the sight. "I'm not as hungry as I thought I was, then...," she says, sighing slightly at herself. She then begins eating again, not wanting to waste the meal.
"You just have more important things on your mind." The Doctor replies, wrapping his hands around his tea cup, "With your head in the clouds, it's easy to loose sight of little things like eating."
Gail's eyes fall from the Doctor, the maiden nodding slowly at the assessment. "I guess it is that simple," she says, interrupting herself with a sip of lukewarm tea. "Then again, a little grounding can't hurt me...will I really be able to consider the important things, if I don't take care of myself?"
"You could al..." The Doctor cuts himself off with a strange look on his face before he continues with a frown, "Can you really help it though?"
The strange look causes a strange look from Gail in turn, wondering what it was that stopped him, before pondering his question, turning inward as she often did. She meet the Doctor's eyes a moment later, a subdued, slight smile on her face. "I don't know." She then turns to her breakfast again, sipping another spoonful of oatmeal.
The Doctor watches her distantly, his eyes pondering some thought.
"It's not like you to be so quiet," Gail says softly in between the almost-silent sipping.
"I'm only quiet on the outside..." The Doctor explains distantly, "Inside, I'm blabbering onto myself in my usual idiotic fashion." He smiles slightly.
"Is it anything I would be interested in," she asks in an attempt at casual conversation, focusing on the meal in front of her. Suddenly, she stops, her eyes moving to lock with the Doctor's own. "Or do you feel you can't tell me?"
The Doctor waves his hand at her dismissively, "I wouldn't want to bor..." He cuts himself off suddenly and frowns answering plainly, "I'm thinking about a few things, I always am, I can't help it... Some would just waste your time, some aren't worth any merit..whimsical things that change everytime I think about them, some I'm not ready to talk about, not to you, not to anyone..." He pauses then takes a sip of his tea hurriedly.
The paladin's expression changes from a critical glance to gentle understanding. After a moment, she turns away, staring into her tea. "I'm sorry. It...wasn't something I should've asked."
"Please...You can ask me anything, anytime." The Doctor replies quietly, "Just don't always expect an answer."
Gail remains quiet, pausing for a moment of contemplation before returning to her meal. "Do you dream often, Alastor," The angelborn blurts out, tearing herself away from her boiled wheat and leaf water to look at the doctor.
The Doctor is silent for a moment, pondering her question, "Yes..." He answers uncomfortably, "I do...almost never clearly but a scattered mess of scenes or..." He frowns, "...visions... The past, the future...just my own troubled imagination... I don't know."
"Oh...," the maiden says, once again feeling guilty at bringing up such a topic so thoughtlessly.
"Stop that." The Doctor says as he kicks the paladin lightly under the table, "I told you, you can ask me anything, anytime." He frowns, "It's kind of strange...to have something happen and feel as if it's happened before...only to remember later that it was in a dream...only then...you can't remember if it really happened the same way..." His voice begins to trail off, "...and what does that mean for the dreams you can remember when you wake up?"
"I...I can't remember having dreams like that," Gail admits, wondering what Alastor must see. "They're never that...real. They're things that can't happen...could never happen." Her eyes wander, pausing to think about what the Doctor had said. "What dreams do you remember?"
"All kinds of random things..." The Doctor replies after a long, long moment of thought, "Sometimes memories...battles..." He frowns, hesitating at something, then shrugs, "Well, there's a lot there, I'll tell you about it some other time."
Gail nods, a warm smile across her face. "Alright," she says softly, sympathy in her eyes. A pricking silence passes over the table, before the maiden speaks again. "I could tell you one of mine, if you'd like."
"Please do." The Doctor smiles.
Gail pauses again, perhaps choosing where to start. "I was flying," she states simply, a soft smile on her lips as her eyes grow distant. "I was soaring, miles above the earth, the only sounds the wind in my ears and the lazy beat of my wings. I looked at the earth and saw it spread out before me, piece by piece, all vivid greens and blues and greys...it was like a patchwork quilt so large, you couldn't see all of it at once. I wasn't frightened of falling to the ground, I wasn't worried about why I should be so high...It just felt right to be there, and I was so calm and happy to just be...flying," she says in a breathless tone, as if she really was so far above the ground.
The Doctor watches her delight almost as one enraptured, a faint genuine smile crossing his lips, "You…you always liked heights…" He cannot seem to turn his gaze from her face, freed from the dark clouds of despair and shining as a beam of sunlight, the sight of her joy captivating.
Gail looks at the Doctor oddly, but it fades back into that joyful, star-eyed smile. "She told you that...I see." Her eyes lose focus as her thoughts turn elsewhere, her smile carrying hints of reminiscence. "I nearly scared her to death on those cliffs so many times...she must think it'd be a lot less effort just to grow wings and be done with it," she says, smiling slightly at the joke and the memories it carried.
"No... You said it at the banquet..." The Doctor replies quietly, his eyes still locked on her.
Gail stares at Alastor questioningly, before the memory comes back to her, something said in casual passing. "Right...I can barely even remember saying that...I wouldn't have, if you hadn't..." Her voice is cut off as she laughs once again, though this time the sound carries more unease than joy. "Isn't that...funny..."
His focus fading with the maiden's joy, the Doctor leans back in his seat, only then realizing that he had been leaning forward, with a troubled frown, "Strange thing, memory..."
"Yes...strange how we can rely on something that changes...so subtlely," she says, the worry fresh on her face when she looks away.
"True to life..." The Doctor nods softly, "Do you not want to tell me? Or is it something I shouldn't concern myself with?" He tilts his head, "If so, I could just go back to reminding you about your breakfast."
Gail stares into the Doctor's eyes, then closes her own as she shakes her head. "It's nothing...nothing to worry about," she assures, turning to her breakfast with a smile. "I should finish up before everything turns stone cold."
The Doctor looks at her skeptically, but doesn't press the matter, instead asking, "What kind of life did live at the order? Were meals regimented?"
"Everyone ate at the same time," Gail says, pausing to finish her own meal. "I think it was hardest when I was training to become an initiate. That was the time that I lived the most in the order...it was mostly weapons training, religious study...for the few years it took, I didn't often leave the order's walls. After I was an initiate, Kaizl would often take me along with his work, so I stayed within the order less and less. We came back to report, give donations we had collected, restock traveling supplies...in the fall, it was common that we would deliver food to villages that had a poor harvest." The paladin shakes her wistfully. "There were times where I would stay at the order for one day out of three months...I remember once when we were reprimanded for coming back six weeks late. It didn't phase Kaizl much, but I was shaking just walking up to the gates..." Her voice then fades away, though through hesitation or reminiscence, it is difficult to tell.
Your master doesn't sound much like you, shrugging off condemnation and authority." The Doctor smiles as he gets to his feet, "I should meet him sometime, sounds like someone I'd get along with." He sighs heavily, "Now…I'd love to keep on chatting with you but I should really dry off… Stupid salt water." He nods to her with a wave as he turns to go, "See you later."
"I'll look forward to it," she says with a cheerful wave, watching the Doctor leave before letting out a soft sigh and picking up the remnants of her breakfast.
...a short time later.
As Hal struggles to cheer up the gloomy gnomes following breakfast, a large soggy wet canine trots up to the assemblage, tongue lolling out of its mouth.
Hal looks down at the dog, a little bemused. "You lost, boy?"
In answer, the dog trots up to his side, looking up at the cleric with laughing eyes and barks. Time seems to slow as the canine winds up, then begins to shake mightily, sending forth a great shower of dank liquid over the priest and those gnomes unfortunate enough to be nearby.
Hal leans over the dog, attempting to block off as much of it as possible. "Easy does it there, boy!"
"Where the hell did that dog come from?!" an exasperated voice cries out as Zook jogs over. "He's getting the wood wet!" He crinkles his nose. "And he smells like he just swam here from Grans Island."
The dog shakes until dry, then with a final shake and a somber look up at the priest, it trots off.

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Mon Dec 10, 2007 6:35 am
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Posted by: Kaihaku Mon Dec 10, 2007 6:38 am
[The Players: The Doctor, Zook, Castor, Gail, Sorel, Telanna, Thavon] [Minor Appearances: Hal, Van] The construction of the headquarters continuing as planned, the Doctor stands among the normally busy gnomes now taking a break from their labors one blustery afternoon. The sun is shining for once, pushing back the growing chill and warming the earth.
The Doctor looks out over the land stretching beneath him then glances around at the imaginative laborers as a particularly moving breeze surges over them, "This seems like fine weather for flying a kite…" He smiles, "Any of you care to join or at least instruct me in proper kite construction?"
The laborers share confused glances, still working. "We just got off of our lunch break," one of the gnomes pipes up in a squeaky voice.
"How long has it been since you've done something other than build?" The Doctor asks with a frown, glancing around, "It'll soon be winter, you should enjoy the weather while it lasts, this isn't the army... You can have fun sometimes." He frowns, "Or can't you?"
The Zooklings stop working, murmuring amongst themselves. "Well, maybe just for a little while--" "He won't get mad--" "It's been ages--"
Squinting against the glare of the sunlight, Zook jogs over from the far end of the area, where he'd been helping an entirely different team. "What's going on?"
The Zooklings all immediately set back to work, some of them whistling innocently.
"I was just saying how it's fine weather for kite flying and how you builders should take a break to enjoy it." The Doctor replies easily, "There won't be many more days like this."
Zook stares at the Doctor blankly for a moment. Eventually his face lights up in comprehension. "Doctor Coventry!" he says. "Now I remember. You're the one who was having trouble learning Ancient."
He looks over at the assembled workers. "When was the last time I gave you all the afternoon off?"
A few of the Zooklings scratch their heads. "Not since we got here, you haven't," says a human boy of about twenty.
"Now, I'm having trouble building a kite…" The Doctor admits with a rueful smile, continuing awkwardly in Ancient, "Language is progressing…slowly…" He chuckles, "Thanks for the help."
Zook looks from the Doctor to the Zooklings. After a moment his expression becomes dark and dour. "How many times..." he begins, starting to pace. "How many times do I have to tell you there'll be time for rest when the Strife Lords are dead! How many times do I have to tell you if you want to rest, you can pack up and go back to where you came from!" He swells with indignation. "There is no time for a break. There's no time for kite-flying, for--for fun..." He glares at the Doctor, a strange croaking sound coming from his throat. "Who do you think you are, swooping down here with your promises of merriment like some kind of a clown from the sky. There will be NO BREAK!" The croaking becomes more pronounced, and the corners of his mouth twitch. "There will be no--" And then the dam bursts. Huge peals of laughter bubble out of the engineer. Tears start to stream from his eyes.
"I just--hahaha--I refuse to--hahahahaha-- I won't-- oh forget it, let's go make kites."
The Zooklings are all completely dumbstruck by Zook's display. It only takes a few seconds, though, for the news of a break to sink in. The stow their tools in record time, and then stand waiting for direction.
"Wow." The Doctor laughs, "You even had me going, that's grand!"
"Silence, sky-clown," Zook says as he claps his hands together. "Alright, we'll need some wood, some wire, and some thin canvas."
The Zooklings all set off at once to find these things, but in a feat of astonishing clumsiness they manage to run smack into each other, tumbling to the ground in a knot of limbs and toolbelts.
Zook winces. "Are you all alright?"
A few groans rise from the group as they untangle themselves and stand, but no one is hurt.
"Well..." he says. "Let's try that again, shall we? I'll help this time."
The search goes much more easily this time, and together they find plenty of spare materials. "Who here has made a kite before?" Zook asks.
A dozen Zooklings raise their hands.
"Not me." The sky-clown answers cheerily.
"Excellent," he says. "Everyone with experience take some materials and five people without any experience. It'll be a group project, since there's not enough space for a hundred kites this close together."
The Zooklings cluster together quickly. Zook looks around, and he notices that the groups are filled evenly without the Doctor. "Eh..." he says. "Do you think anyone else might be interested? I could lead another group while I'm helping everyone else?" he asks the Doctor.
"I feel so alone and unloved..." The Doctor sniffs; "Let me see if anyone can tolerate my presence..." He slips away with a spring in his step despite his sad words.
Zook gets everyone else started while he waits for the Doctor to return.
Castor approaches the gathering, the thud of hoof steps slowing as the minotaur closes the distance, confusion apparent on his face while he watches the scene unfold. He looks at Zook pointedly.
"Castor!" Zook says with a smile. "Ever flown a kite?"
"Can't say that I have...," he says, watching the tinker's expression. "Haven't made one, either...I take it that's what I've walked in on?"
"Yes indeed," Zook says. "You can wait here and when the Doctor gets back we can start. In the meantime..." Zook goes back to instructing the Zooklings on the basics and physics of kite-making.
"Uh-huh," is the painter's only response, watching the crowd of zooklings and their leader before taking a seat on the hill, waiting patiently.

QUOTE
"Help me!" The Doctor runs up to Gail, clinging desperately to her arm, "Please, you've got to help me!" Gail wheels around at the Doctor's scream, and can only watch as Alastor clings to her, looking at him with startled concern. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"I… I just can't do it! I'm not skilled enough…" He hesitates, glancing around frantically, "Even with you helping, it might not be enough… Where's Telanna?"
"Helping with what? Please, tell me what happened," she repeats, worried about what could have sent the Doctor into such hysterics.
"I'm suppose to build a kite and I... I don't think... I..." He leans his head against her shoulder, laughing out, "I'm so clueless, you've got to help me or the gnomes will make fun of me!"
Gail stares for a moment before a chuckle of relief escapes. "I don't know how to tell you this, but...I've never made one, either," She states, a slight, apologetic smile appearing on her lips.
"Good, I won't be the only one to look stupid!" The Doctor replies brightly as he perks up, dancing around and dragging the paladin after him, "Come on!"
"But what about...," she begins, but finds herself cut off as the Doctor drags her away to the waiting crowd of tinkers and engineers.

The Doctor marches back towards the assembled tinkers, dragging the famous Strife Slayer behind him.
Zook continues teaching, oblivious to the new arrivals.
Gail's eyes widen at the sheer amount of people already to work at the task, looking out to each group in turn as she continues to be lead by the Doctor, "There's...a lot more people than I thought there would be," she admits, quietly.
"I know, imagine if all of them were to start making fun of me for being the only one not knowing what was going on." The Doctor glances back with a relieved smile, "I'm glad you're here."
"And then you've got the basics." Zook turns around. "Gail! So you can tolerate Doctor C's presence." He looks back at the Doctor. "Couldn't find anyone else?"
The Doctor frowns, releasing the paladin's hand and turning, "Let me see if I can find anyone else."
Gail answers with a comforting smile. "I'm sure we're not the only ones who don't how to make them." She then turns at the call, smiling brightly as she recognizes the tinker. "Oh, Zook, hello! You're teaching kite making today?" She then looks out again to the gathering, quirking a brow, though her smile doesn't fade. "This all seems a little strange..."
The Doctor trots off to find others.

QUOTE
"Sorel! We're flying kites." The Doctor shouts at the old druid as he dashes by, "It's good father daughter bonding time! Down by the mass of gnomes!" Sorel looks up from his meditation, sighs, and gets up to follow the Doctor. The Doctor dashes into a tent, jostling passed a few people and slipping up to the fat cleric, "Hal, hello!'
"Doctor...?" Hal says, looking at Coventry with surprise.
"A bunch of us are flying kites, taking a respite if only for a moment from the dreadful conflict..." The Doctor begins with an excited smile, "I just wanted to let you know that you're not invited." He starts on again, waving back cheerily, "See you later, have fun!"
"You too!" Hal says, waving in kind.
The Doctor slips from the tent, back the way he came and nearly collides with Sorel, "Hey...watch where you're going!" He slips by the old man and skips on towards the feyborn's tent.
"Telly! Oh Telanna!" The Doctor calls out, "Are you home?"
"Telly?" Telanna says, head popping out of her tent and looking at the Doctor. "Seriously?"
"Telly! There you are!" The Doctor exclaims, "We're flying kites, come on! Why are you hiding in that pile of potential kite material?!"
"Did Sophie get you drunk?" Telanna asks, getting out of the tent.
"I can't get drunk... That's not a part of me anymore." The Doctor answers seriously, then continues on.
Telanna looks positively bewildered, but she follows, seeming not to notice Sorel.
"Hey you!" The Doctor calls out cheerily as he dashes through the headquarters slowly being constructed, "A group of us are flying kites, want to join in?!"
The Doctor is gone before the man he was calling to, Van, has a chance to answer.

"It is a little strange," Zook agrees. "But a little strangeness never hurt anyone. Ever made a kite before?"
"No, never. No one ever taught me how."
"You never wanted to fly as a child?" Zook asks.
"I...I did...," she says, suddenly growing quiet. "All the time." A smile appears on her face after a moment of thought, attempting to dispel the silence. "I...guess I never asked."
"Well you can't do that!" Zook says disapprovingly. "You've got to ask the question. A question. Any question!" He turns back to the Zooklings. "What's the question?"
The Zooklings respond in unison, "What's next?"
Zook beams. "Precisely." He looks back at Gail. "Do you want to fly a kite?"
Gail nods.
"Then ask the question," Zook replies.
"Could you teach me how to fly a kite," Gail asks.
"No, that is incidental," Zook says. "That's not the question."
Gail looks puzzled, before thinking back to what she just saw and shaking her head. "What's next?"
Zook grins. "That's my girl!" He looks around and sighs. "What's next is we wait for Doctor C."
Vox: funny
Vox: I don't remember italicizing the my
Kaihaku: I wonder how that happened...
The Doctor returns to the group after a few minutes, walking swiftly with a grumpy frown, "This place is full of sour pusses." He shakes his head, "No one knows how to have fun any more… Where…where are Langston and Ombligo? Whatever happened to them? They were such fun people to have around."
Sorel appears a bit daunted at the scale of the operation. He looks over at the Doctor, but says nothing.
Telanna is much less subtle. She gapes openly at the dozens of tinkers already hard at play. "This is like a kite army!"
"Ah well…" The Doctor sighs, he glances back at the feyborn with a frown, "Telly! None of that military talk! We take our downtime seriously here!"
Zook looks at the two druids with a frown before looking up at the Doctor. "Can't they...you know...actually fly?" he asks.
He glances at the gnome, "So, so can I? What's your point?"
Zook looks confused. "Why would anyone want to make a flying toy if they could already fly whenever they pleased?"
Gail looks to the tinker questioningly. "What about you? You seem so enthusiastic, and yet, you have A.D.A.M. to fly in whenever you want."
"You can walk…" The Doctor sighs, shaking his head, "Regardless, haven't you ever made a toy cart or a wagon or…" He smirks, "Well, you are a tinker, a walking thing?"
"ADAM's just a flying toy," Zook says quietly. He looks at Coventry. "No, I've never made something that could move on the ground and do nothing else."
"Really?" The Doctor blinks, "How weird."
"Does it matter why we are here?" Sorel interrupts. "The point is that we are here."
Telanna still stares at the tinkers, who are pretending not to notice the exchange.
Gail looks at Zook sadly, but doesn't respond, instead turning to Sorel and nodding. "Yes...we shouldn't keep everyone waiting, now that we're all here."
Thavon swoops down from overhead, his Birdman eyes noting all the Zooklings working in a single location. "What are you Gnomes up to now?"
"Oh, come on," Zook says, looking up to the sky. "Any air elementals who want to fly a kite, come on down!"
"You're making kites?" Thavon asked with a laugh. "You know, I may have to join you."
"Look, don't try to understand, um..." The Doctor claps his hands, "The sky looks pretty with lots of kites gracefully streaming through it."
"Alright," Zook says. "What sort of kite do you all want to make?"
"What are the others making?" The Doctor asks.
"Kites," Zook replies.
"What sort of kites?" The Doctor sighs.
"All sorts of kites," Zook replies. "I see...a few standard diamond kites, three bow kites, and...a box kite." He shrug, "You can make a kite look like almost anything."
"Let's make one that looks like a magical creature." The Doctor suggests.
"That...that will be complicated, won't it," Gail asks. "The shape would be hard to make, wouldn't it?"
"Let's just do a simple one then with a long tail."
"What about a kite shaped like a person?" Telanna asks. "That'd be pretty simple, wouldn't it?"
"That'd work..." Zook says. "What do the rest of you think?"
As long as it flies and isn't attacking me, I'm on board."
"Why not make it an angel?" The Doctor says with a smile.
Sorel looks at the Doctor, suppressing a smile. "An excellent idea."
"Yeah, the wings would help quite a bit..." Zook looks down at the materials. "Alright, let's get to work."
Gail looks to Coventry for a moment, before breaking into a smile as they begin to work. "It...It'll look so graceful, with all the others."
"Hey Castor!" Zook calls. "Stop brooding for a minute and come down here and play with us!"
Castor scoffs as Zook calls him, stomping over to the site while taking care not to step on any other works on his way there.
Ten minutes later the kite is finished, a beautiful rendering of an angel.
"Who wants to go first?" Zook asks, looking about at the others and offering the kite string to them.
Sorel steps back, looking up at the sky and whistling softly.
Gail takes a glance at the others before she steps up, holding her hands out to receive the kite.
Zook hands the kite off to Gail and goes around helping the others launch theirs.
The Doctor watches with a smile as the sky is slowly filled with a graceful array of kites.
Telanna's eyes are wide with wonder as the sky swells with swirling shapes and colors.
Zook looks up with a smile of simple joy. "Look what we made."
Gail smiles warmly as the kite angel takes its place amongst the others, her eyes lighting up as it flits and dances in the sky.
"Huh." Thavon says thoughtfully as he watches the kites float around in the wind.
Sophie slips out of a tent and watches the sky for a long moment, before poking her head back in, "Oh, Brother Hal, come look at this!" She calls happily, "Someone made a lovely bunch of kites."
Zook mutters something, face still tilted upward. He is no longer smiling.
"All the further to fall…" The Doctor says quietly, "Maybe they should have stuck with kites." He sighs and shakes his head, "I suppose it's time to get back to saving the world …" Then he is gone, vanished.
Zook doesn't hear the Doctor or notice him depart.
Thavon walks up to the Engineer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "When all this fighting is done, let's get you there too."
Zook is startled by Thavon's touch. "What? Where? Get me where?"
"To the stars." Thavon said while crossing his arms across his chest. "We'll need machines for it, and last time I checked, you were the best one around with those."
Zook frowns. "I could always just ask the space people."
"Didn't they crash their ship into a fortress?
"They've got another one."

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sat Dec 22, 2007 5:51 am
The halls of Castle Cypress… "So, you're Simone?" A rather unremarkable man says with a smile as he walks towards the maiden, "I hear you stumbled into being an Innovator and got everyone confused." "Huh?" Simone asks, turning. "Uh... Y-yeah... I don't know... I'm rather confused too. Am I an Innovator? I don't know the answer to that."
“Well, according to rumors you are, but even if not…there’s something about you that most of the big players in this game are after.” The man pauses, looking at her appraisingly, “I wonder what it is…” He tilts his head, “Do you know what an Innovator is?”
"Who are you?" Simone asks.
“I’m Doctor Coventry, like you, I have a sort of connection to the powers that be…” He holds out a hand, positive energy swirling in it for a moment before vanishing, “…but unlike you, I’m a freak and not really part of the natural order of things.” He lowers his hand, “I heard you warped time and space to save the Cypress Expedition… If you can manage that, you must be far beyond me; you can imagine my surprise when I learned that you were hiding here." He arches an eyebrow, "Maybe it’s just that you haven’t realized just how much you know yet?”
Simone tilts her head, looking oddly at Doctor Coventry. "You're... not a freak..." Simone looks at her hands. "But..."
Simone shakes her head. "I don't know what I am anymore... or what I know. I used to just be a regular townsgirl before... before the war started. Except for the dreams."
“The dreams can be...” The Doctor nods in agreement, a troubled frown crossing his face, “Yeah. Well, regardless, if you are a genuine Innovator as rumors have it, then I thought I might offer you some aid getting a handle on your powers. Our abilities should be different, yours far more potent and pure, but similar enough that I might be able to give you some direction."
Simone frowns. "Allright... Ashathel's been giving me self-defense lessons, Kyoji stealth, and Yeesha magic, so why not?"
"Learning wizardry?" The Doctor asks with a smile, "Strange choice for someone blessed with sacred power."
"Why?" Simone asks. "Magic compliments divinity well... And... No, nevermind. What did you want to show me?" Simone looks around the halls. "Shouldn't we go somewhere else?"
“Nevermind? Why? If that is how you feel, you should say it. I don’t want to divide your efforts; it sounds like you’re learning plenty already.” He chuckles ruefully, “I thought maybe I could give you a unique perspective but an Archwizardess is a fine enough teacher already, I suppose.” He laughs, “Better than me, no doubt.” He gives her a curious look, “Well, this might be even more presumptuous but anything you want to know?”
Simone frowns. "Not really... I'm terrible at swordplay and only adequate at stealth. Sometimes I think the only reason I'm doing well with Yeesha is that my love to read helps me study." Simone closes her eyes for a moment. "And your magic is far different from the Archwizardess's... Unique perspective."
Simone opens her eyes and shakes her head. "The answers I want are probably ones you can't give me... But..." Simone looks at Coventry. "What do you know about your powers?"
“I have an innate connection to certain mystical energies, a similar pool perhaps to those that the deities call on, but much less potent in scale and pure in form.” The Doctor explains easily, “Some have compared me to a divine sorcerer; perhaps it really is so simple… No god can claim my allegiance, well I suppose they could claim it but it would be a lie.”
He holds out his hand and looks down at it appraisingly, “How such came to be… Some years after I was born, my father ascended, as you apparently have, becoming a being called an Innovator. I’m not certain what connection there is between father and son. I’ve never met mine. ” He shrugs, lowering his hand and looking back at her, “There are many explantions, none of them convincing… There could be some attachment that lingers between souls and through that some measure of sacred power flowed. Sacred powers might have looked favorably on me due to his ascension. Father and son, our souls could be akin to one another and mine innately followed the path he had forged.”
“How it happen is something I may never completely understand, still it left me something of a freak… Far from an Innovator and not quite even a being of such exalted a bloodline, but something related…somehow…” The Doctor shrugs; “The Ancients once considered Innovators to be the next phase of humanity, the next step in our development. That wasn’t the case; at least it doesn’t seem to. There are mystical spirits and ancient ceremonies which a human must have in order to reach ascension.” He smiles, “Which is where…you stand out, I’m sure that if the Ancients were still alive they would love to know how…how did you do it?”
"That's not a question you have the answer to though, is it?"
"I wish I could answer it..." Simone says, her face twisting for a moment. "I did nothing... So why am I becoming something... else?"
“It happens all the time in life, powers beyond our control take us and change us and never stop to ask permission.” The Doctor says with a distant sadness, “I think on how many perfectly happy lives have been ruined…for no good reason…” He sighs, “Well, hopefully there are reasons out there, reasons you can find, but I suspect that you’ll need to look for them. Hiding here, they won’t come to you.” He chuckles, “But…in regards to allies for your personal quest for answers, an arcwizardess is an excellent start.”
"Another ally you might look into is Gracia..." The Doctor says thoughtfully, "He was the last known Innovator. He might have some answers."
"I've heard of him..." Simone frowns. "But the lands of Elbesem are a far, far journey from here, and embroiled in conflict."
Simone is quiet for a moment.
"I won't find my answers by hiding..." She finally says. "But what else can I do? I have power I can't control, enemies I can't defeat... It's... It's despicable." Simone finally spits out. "Cowardly. But what else can I do? I'm... I'm not a hero like in the stories."
“You don’t need to be a hero to meet the challenges before you. You just need to be friends with one.” The Doctor offers once more with a renewed smile, “I’m not a hero. I think I’d much rather be hiding in a cave somewhere…well, really, eating dumplings at a nice café. I’ve known a few heroes in my life though and, for better or worse, they inspire me to do the most reckless things.” He chuckles, “Well, like I said, I’m not a hero but maybe, to start, I could try to show you how to control your power?”
Simone is quiet for a moment. "All right."
“Forgive me if I seem to belittle you, I don’t doubt your power, but I thought we’d start with the basics. You’ll surpass me soon enough, I suspect, once you have a foundation and frame to your powers.” The Doctor begins with a smile, starting to continue on down the hall and motioning for the maiden to follow, “Have managed any cantrips yet? Shall we start with an orison?” He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a stone.
"Well, I can do a few spells, but they're all arcane... They don't draw upon... my power," Simone says with a frown.
“So, then you already learned at least a few cantrips, the foundation arcane spells.” The Doctor nods, “So, let’s try the divine equivalent, an orison.” He holds up the stone, “The important thing here isn’t the source, you already have the power you need, what’s important is finding a way of focusing on it and channeling it.” He explains quietly, “At first, I had a hard time with that but now I find that the method just comes to me. I can’t say that it will ever be the same for you but...” He whispers a few words and the stone begins to glow softly at first then grows brighter until it sheds light through the hall, “There, if you can manage the arcane version of this spell, maybe the divine version will come easier to you.” He slides the stone away and turns to look at her, “Did I explain that poorly? Any questions?”
"How do I find and focus on the power to control it?" Simone asks.
"Take a moment, be still, remember what it felt like when you saved the force..." The Doctor says quietly, "...or any other times your power came to life." He frowns, "Your soul should remember... even if your mind doesn't. Let it come to you.”
He continues softly after a moment of silence, “The motions aren't important like in wizardry, the intent is. Let your soul guide you, find your own way of channeling and expressing it."
Simone closes her eyes and balls her fists.
A long few moments pass, before she asks, "Is it glowing yet?"
“Relax, don’t force it...” The Doctor says softly, “Remember what it felt like and let it happen again.”
"All I remember... Is terror..." Simone says, quietly. "...and panic."
"No light?" The Doctor asks quietly, "No flash of...something more? Even for an instant?"
"No..." Simone says, shaking her head. "I just remember being terrified, a strong desire for no one to die, to escape, and then power flooded through me."
"I see..." The Doctor says quietly, looking down with a thoughtful frown, "Hmmm... Well, maybe I'm of no use to you after all. After that miracle, I thought an orison would be... Ah nevermind." He chuckles, "Let me look into Gracia, I'm sure he'd be of more assistance."
"Please understand..." Simone says. "When I say I can't control my power, I mean it completely... I can't summon it, I can't dismiss it... It happens without my conscious will."
"Maybe you're possessed." The Doctor shrugs, "That would explain how you ascended without a spirit, you didn't." He frowns, "Well, I won't waste any more of your time, I'll see you again once I find Gracia."
"Thank you," Simone says, nodding.
The Doctor gives her an odd look, then turns shaking his head and walks off, "No problem."

Posted by: Kaihaku Mon Dec 24, 2007 2:48 am
TUM: Blast... You didn't save it? Kai: No. TUM: Well TUM: We know what happened and nothing too momentous occured. TUM: Lisa popped up in Ced's dream and offered him help via dreamland, he refused.
TUM: Can you post a summary?
Kai: Why?
Kai: No one else cares...
TUM: : /
Cedric went to sleep and found himself in a paradise dreamland; butterflies and birds all around. He was unhappy by this turn of events, having had enough of his dreams being meddled with and waiting for the twist Shailtor usually added to such pleasant beginnings.
Lisa appeared in a pink dress and asked him why he was unhappy.
Cedric explained that he prefered truth to illusion and would rather his dreams were left alone.
Lisa told him that his dark dreams of late were not truth and that this was a memory not a vision.
Cedric replied that he had had no dark dreams since he died, memories are visions of the past, and that he wasn't the same as he had been when she died.
Lisa told him that happy dreams were part of good rest.
Cedric said that he was tired and just wanted to complete his task, then he could join in this land of memory. He implied strongly that he would die.
Lisa told him that no one knows what the future holds.
Cedric replied that mortals are leaves on the wind, they might not know where the wind will carry them, but in the end they will fall.
Lisa agreed and said that she just wanted to help him.
Cedric thanked her but said that he could not partake in such pleasant memories as he didn't know if he would have the strength to return to the world if he did so.
Lisa shook her head sadly and said that the spirits of the sword would always support him.
Cedric thanked her and promised to join her once his task was complete.
The dream faded away and Cedric slept.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Fri Feb 15, 2008 2:05 am
"They've managed to free Mitula," Max said, approaching Anri with a cup of hot cider. The two were bundled in furs, watching the construction of what would become the new fortress for the new Shining Force. "I heard," Anri said, accepting the cup with a nod of thanks. Her eyes never left the construction site. "They're off for Volcanon next?"
"No, I heard that they're going to take care of a few odds and ends before they try to assault the Bedoe Shrine," Max said, his breath coming out as clouds of warmth in the chill weather. It was begining to snow here in the mountains, though the lowlands didn't yet have to deal with the most dramatic part of the change of seasons.
"What happens now?" Anri asked.
"I don't know... I think Graigus is going to head back and..." Max began. Anri shook her head.
"No... What happens now for us?" Anri asked, quietly. Her hands wrapped around the cup of cider as if it contained all the warmth in the world. Max was quiet for a while.
"I don't know that either," Max said, quietly. "They don't seem to need our help... Not for these foes..." Max looked away from Anri, towards the buildings taking shape. The hauntingly beautiful melody of the lillend's harp could clearly be heard over the din of construction. The song echoed across the mountains like the call of some forgotten divinity, lost in the snow. Max spoke again. "When the time comes... I'll ask them directly to be included on the attack on either Lord."
"I will as well," Anri said, quietly, still not looking at Max.
"You shouldn't-" Max began. This time Anri turned to look at him, cold fury in her eyes.
"I will. I have to. For what they did... and what they made me do..." Anri said with tightly restrained emotion. The cup she clutched trembled slightly. Max looked down.
"As you say," he said, quietly.
"Until then... I'll help here," Anri said, gesturing to the fort. "I can conjure materials and magic for this project... Develop warding spells. When the library arrives, I can bury myself in books. Hardly queenly activity, but I'm far past that point..."
"Anri..." Max began, looking up at her. Anri shook her head.
"No... No, don't start. I've taken it easy enough, now I need something to do before I go..." Anri stopped herself, staring at the fort.
"...mad" was the unspoken end of the sentence.
Max was quiet for while before speaking again.
"You know... Mae and the others are all right. They've fortified Shade Abbey and are holding it right now..." Max quietly said. "We... We should go to them... Tell them we're all right."
"Not now..." Anri said, shaking her head. "Not... Not yet. Soon, but not now... Not when I'm... I'm like this... You can go."
"I'm not going until you are," Max said quietly, looking at her. Anri turned to face him once more, her features vacillating from deep sorrow to affection. Finally she turned and shook her head.
"Oh, Max... Why'd it have to be like this?" Anri asked.
"Maybe it didn't," Max said, following Anri's eyes back to the Fort. "But it is like this... So I suppose only we can answer the question of what happens now."
Anri chuckled weakly. "You sound like Nova..."
Max smiled and shook his head. "I guess I picked up a few more things from him than just how fiercely giant bats fight."
Anri laughed, and Max's smile grew wider. The two watched the fort be built for a while, in the cold. After a while, Anri passed the cider to Max, took out her sketchpad and began to draw.
((Happy Valentine's Day everyone.))

Posted by: Knight_019 Sat Feb 16, 2008 1:22 am
*As they leave the holy temple of Mitula, Dagron turns back and raises the cornucopia up in the air to signal back to the Goddess.* : Thanks again for everything! Especially the food!!! *Immediately outside the temple, Dagron begins fooling with the cornucopia. He inspects it, looks it all about, and begins to try to activate it right there before he's scolded by one of the other members, since they would be back at the fort soon anyway. Dejectedly, he puts it away, but his mind keeps wandering to the pocket feast he had on him.
A few minutes later, they return to their stronghold, and Dagron quickly bolts to the nearest dining room. At the top of his lungs, he bellows out that he has food, and he sprints, glides, and otherwise proceeds as fast as possible to the table, laughing all the way. Once in a suitable eating space, he proceeds to vigorously pour out and shake the cornucopia until all the food has been emptied onto the table. An exquisite banquet is laid out before him, with place settings, silverware, and more than enough food for everyone in the fortress. The furnishings look polished, new, and fancy, but his eyes were on the meat. While no one is looking, he grabs the nearest hunk he can and stuffs it into his mouth. He looks about shiftily, hoping no one had seen him, then waits for the others. A few seconds later, a large, draconic belch alerts the others, most likely, that he wasn't waiting for them.*

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sat Feb 16, 2008 2:53 am
The Cornucopia provides a lavish feast, and among the delicious edibles are... (4) Power Wine: Consumer gains +2 Str. (4) Protect Milk: Consumer gains a +1 Divine bonus to AC. (4) Quick Chicken: Consumer gains +2 Dex. (4) Bright Honey: Magic users gain an addition (1d3) level spell per day.
(4) Cheerful Bread: Consumer permanently gains 2d4 HP.
(4) Running Pimento/Turbo Pepper: Consumer gains an additional 10' to movement.
(4) Brave Apple: Memories of the heroes of old who partook of the feast enter the
consumer's mind, granting him enough experience to advance a level.
((If anyone is greedy enough to try and take two stat boosting items, they instead lose points equal to what they would've gained. Be nice and share, now! If people feel like it, the proposed STORYTIME RP section can be done now at this feast.))
--------------
Anri, working with Isyndel and Yeesha make a startling discovery the next day after the feast. The properties of magical teleportation have been subtly altered by the plane shift, making teleports into enemy held territory difficult. Conversely, it will also be difficult for the foe to teleport into friendly held areas.
((Teleportation into red or black areas on the world map is no longer allowed. Teleportation of an extremely long range nature, IE nation to nation, can only be achieved by targeting a safe house, such as Enrick's mansion in Destonia, or a friendly area, such as anywhere on the map in green. This is due to the new plane's magical properties making long range teleportation easy to interfere with/defend against. A teleport into hostile areas carries with it the possibility of being detected and countered... and countering a teleport is a messy business.))

Posted by: Kaihaku Sat Feb 16, 2008 5:50 am
The Doctor takes a pepper with a skeptical frown, taking a bite and chewing reflectively. His eyes begin to water as his face flushes. He lets out a weak chuckle and picks up a bottle of fine wine. He then seems to think better of downing it, handing the bottle to his nearby sister.
Sophie stands with a frown for a moment, glancing questioningly at the Dagron before looking at the bottle of wine. She fingers it gingerly then smiles, turning and handing it with a friendly smile to Thavon, “Thavon, how is your injury? Your recovery seems near complete?”
The Doctor exhales a hot breath and turns away in a walk that swiftly becomes a run towards the nearest pool of water.
[Coventry gains +10 movement]
[Sophie gives Thavon Power Wine.]
Cedric stands a short distance away, watching the outpouring of sacred food with a faint smile. He nods quietly to those under his charge, "Go ahead..." He laughs, a sound that has become unfamilar, "Better get some wine before Van drinks it all."

Posted by: Dark Maiden Sat Feb 16, 2008 9:06 am
Damas takes some of the bread from the table, breaking off a piece and taking a bite. The elf then takes another bite, and another, until the bread is gone. Kayla stands off to the side for a few minutes before she approaches the table. Her eyes skim over the enormous feast before her, and she reaches out to grab one of the apples. The tiefling stares at it for a little bit before she takes a bite. Within a few minutes, she has eaten the whole apple.
[Damas: Cheerful Bread
Kayla: Brave Apple
I was unsure of how the taking of items worked, so I only had two of my characters take items. I will adjust this post as appropriate if necessary.]

Posted by: Alpha Sat Feb 16, 2008 1:23 pm
Wondering into the dining hall, Laeral immediately settles on the small pile of apples. : “Hey, apples! he says brightly, picking one up. “Haven’t eaten any since I left home to join Alexander,” and he moves to take a bite. Before he does however, his eyes settle on Tanis, who’s standing near a corner with a contemplative expression on his face. Sighing, then grinning, Laeral calls out.
: “Hey Tanis, think fast! he shouts, tossing the apple to the catfolk.
Tanis’ eyes widen as the makeshift missile hits him in the chest, but the agile catfolk is able to catch it before it drops too far. He looks at it with a frown for a moment, before redirecting the expression to Laeral.
: “Well…eat it then!” the elf exclaims, confused by Tanis’ reaction.
: “Yes, yes of course,” the catfolk replies with a slight chuckle. “Thank you,” he says with a smile before proceeding to devour the apple.
Grinning, Laeral turns back to the table, looking at the various other items on it. He then glances around the room, looking for a certain fruity swordsman.
: “Enrick, what do you think I should go for?” he asks. “I’m thinking wine right now, but I might hold back and request a pimento for my brother, if people don’t mind. Opinions?”
[Tanis gets a Brave Apple.
Tanis gains a level in Incantatar! (Warmage 7/Fatespinner 4/Incantatar 4, ECL 16)
Charisma increases by 1!
Max hit points increases by 7!
Base attack bonus increases by 1!
Will save increases by 1!
Gains the bonus metamagic feat 'Chain Spell'
Gains the feat 'Arcane Thesis [Sound Lance]'
Gains a skill point in Concentration, Intimidate, Knowledge (Arcana), Knowledge (Planes), Spellcraft
Gains two extra 6th and one extra 7th level casting per day))

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Sat Feb 16, 2008 1:57 pm
: "Outstanding!" Enrick marvels at all the food and various meals that now fill the table before them. : "This ought to be the most princely feast I'll have had in a long time." Grinning broadly, he steps up to the table and grabs a nearby fruit from a basket, which happens to be an apple. He raises the apple to eye level and turns it over gently in his hand to study it. And it was so delectably flawless.
: "Hmm... One apple a day keeps the doctor away."
His attention switches to Coventry who hurried to quench the inextinguishable thirst caused by the pimento he'd just eaten too fast. He chuckles lightly and realeases the divine fruit over the basket where it now sits enthroned on top of the pile of other fruits. He turns his head to his elven friend.
: "Oh I don't know, Laery! There's so much food to choose from that my head is spinning in wonder! I need to make up my mind. Hmm... I think I'll settle for this."
He designates a small bottle of milk in the middle of the table and picks it up along with a handful of scones from a plate next to it and a bowl of lucky cookies at the other end of the table where he picks a seat and enjoys the free time. He relishes some food happily and drinks the milk up in one big gulp.
: "Divine!" He exclaims delighted.
((Enrick gained a +1 Divine bonus to AC.
Enrick was leet hax.))

Posted by: Alpha Sat Feb 16, 2008 2:10 pm
Laeral crosses his arms, frowning at Enrick. : "Well that was a helpful answer," he says sarcastically. He then sighs again, the frown dropping away as he continues to look at the table contemplatively, deciding on what to have. ((Note: there should be lucky cookies too. Maybe they give a luck bonus to a save? Or saves? Just an idea.))

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Sat Feb 16, 2008 4:57 pm
No sooner had he said that, Laeralas was thrown a round shaped biscuit. The cookie has a drawing on it made of praline icing that represents a happy face. Enrick winks at the elf and eats another scone.

Posted by: Knight_019 Sat Feb 16, 2008 8:03 pm
((I'd like Merkass - Quick Chicken Mahler - Running Pimento (before anyone says anything, you can give Claude stat boosters in SF2, and he benefits from potions in D&D rules) Aurik - Protect Milk DAGRON - Power Wine
I'm open to discussing this, but if we're just taking them, then they take them,))

Posted by: GOD*JESUS Sat Feb 16, 2008 8:21 pm
: "Well, I'm doing quite well, I think. No doubt thanks to you're abilities." Thavon smiled as he responded to Sophie, well to the extent that a beak is capable of. The birdgish looked down at the bottle in his hand. "Why not?" He wispered to himself with a shrug.
: "If I could have everyone's attention please." He squawked out across the table waiting for any chatter to settle down. "I'd like to raise a toast. To DAGRON, who's stomach brought us this great food." Thavon tossed a second bottle across the table to his partner in aerial combat. Thavon proceeded to force the cork off of his wine with a satisfying popping noise, before shouting out again.
: "TO DAGRON!" before downing his wine.
[Thavon drinks Power Wine! Thavon gains +2 STR!]

Posted by: Rusty Sat Feb 16, 2008 9:00 pm
((Ombligo will take a Brave Apple. Alexander will take a Power Wine. Edit to come shortly. For now Faralon isn't taking anything, but I may have him take a Bright Honey if there are any left over.)) *Ombligo's eyes shimmer with glee as he looks at the absolutely perfect apple. Immediately, he reaches it with both tentacles before anyone gets the chance and begins to messily munch the apple. When he's finished with it, there's barely more than the core left.*
: "That really hit the spot! I think that was the best apple I've ever had!"
*But beyond the deliciously refreshing taste, there was something more about the apple. Ombligo couldn't quite place it, but he felt something magical stirring inside of him.*
---
*Alexander takes a glass of the wine, holding it up to toast the others.*
: "To the Shining Force - may we be victorious and unwavering in all of our battles!"
*Alexander then begins to drink, finding the holy nectar to be rather potent. Perhaps it was simply his good mood, but he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders at that very moment.*

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sat Feb 16, 2008 9:51 pm
((Now, now, Alpha. Cookies are a dessert food. They'd be served after the meal wouldn't they?))

Posted by: Alpha Sat Feb 16, 2008 9:57 pm
: "Hey," Laeral says to Thavon, approaching hs friend. "What's the wine like? I'm thinking of having some myself." "Well," Thavon says looking at his empty bottle. "You could say that it's divine. But that's a bad joke... Right up Enrick's alley I suppose."
: "Fruity then?" comes the flippant response.
Thavon lets out a small chuckle.
"Touche my friend. As far as the taste, it's safe to say you should enjoy it, given that I've managed to down the whole bottle. So it can't be too bad."
Laeral shrugs.
: "Whatever," he says with a grin. He picks up the remaining bottle and raises it toward Thavon. [b]"Cheers, then."
"Sucker," Thavon mutters as Larry takes a drink. "It actually tastes like Dagron piss."
His keen ears picking up the comment, Laeral shoots the birdman a wry grin.
: "Which begs the question why you drank it all."
((Laeral drinks Power Wine. +2 Strength!))

Posted by: GOD*JESUS Sat Feb 16, 2008 10:42 pm
Gorrik could hardly stop laughing between the Doctor needing water, and DAGRON's stomach receiving a toast. but the Dwarf somehow calmed down long enough to grab a pepper for himself. Although, unlike the doctor, he decided to pace himself, not eating it all at once, but instead in 4 small bites.
[Gorrik eats Turbo Pepper! Gorrik gains +10' MOVE!]

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Sat Feb 16, 2008 10:45 pm
"I'll just snack on this," Dicem said, grabbing the last of the apple. "Hopefully an apple today will keep Coventry away." ((Dam takes the last Brave Apple.)) ((Also, as a side note, whenever possible, Dicem gets some equipment and Graigus finally gets his RING OF LION'S CHARGE.))

Posted by: GOD*JESUS Sat Feb 16, 2008 10:51 pm
((Just for the record (0) Power Wine (2) Protect Milk (3) Quick Chicken (4) Bright Honey
(3) Cheerful Bread
(1) Running Pimento/Turbo Pepper
(0) Brave Apple
In case anybody needed a tally for them.))

Posted by: BLT Sat Feb 16, 2008 10:57 pm
Caius chuckles at the elf and reaches out to grab a leg of chicken off the table, ripping it apart with his teeth. Still chewing on some he turned back to Laeral. "What's wrong, elf? Food so below your standards it forces you to drink?" ((Eats a Quick Chicken, Caius gains 2 Dexterity!))

Posted by: Alpha Sat Feb 16, 2008 11:04 pm
Laeral turns around, frowning at Caius, before grinning. : "Sorry, who are you again?"

Posted by: Knight_019 Sat Feb 16, 2008 11:11 pm
*Dagron is a tad shocked by the sudden toast to him. Nevertheless, he easily catches the small bottle tossed his way, and opens it. He raises the bottle in the air to Thavon, his stomach's rumblings becoming more pronounced.* : Cheers, Thavon! May our enemies be cooked to perfection and garnished with our victories as this meal is!
*He thought it sounded ok, but he just wanted to eat, so it didn't matter. He quickly chugs the wine down, and feels better and stronger already. Unable to help himself, he belches one more time from the volume of air he swallowed that equaled or exceeded the wine in the bottle, causing him to shoot flames quite a distance. He then shoots his attention back toward Laeral and Thavon.
: And if you're going to talk about me like that, I would suggest not flying or walking anywhere below me.

Posted by: Alpha Sat Feb 16, 2008 11:14 pm
: "Hey, hey," Laeral protests to Dagron, despite his grin. "He's the one who made the comment," he says, nudging Thavon in the ribs.

Posted by: BLT Sat Feb 16, 2008 11:14 pm
"I'm sorry, you must have had trouble seeing me past your nose, what with your chin so high in the air." Caius negligently flicks a chicken bone across the table in Laeral's direction and starts to pull the meat of one of the other bones.

Posted by: Knight_019 Sat Feb 16, 2008 11:24 pm
*Merkass suddenly runs about the table with dizzying speed past everyone, shouting at the top of his lungs.* : QUICK CHICKEN IS PEOPLE!!!!!! ~~~ erhrm... ~~~
*Merkass removes one of the dainty chickens from the table, then removes his hunting dagger from his side. He prods the meat, and notices its succulent, moist texture. He then takes in the aroma of the food, and is pleased, particularly because this is the first time in a long while that he has not smelled evil stenches that overpower even the most fragrant scents. He inhales deeply, then exhales, letting it fill his nostrils and lungs with calm and delight. He then cuts off a piece and sticks into his mouth. From the moment it hits his tongue he feels as though he could manipulate it with ease with his mouth, as though it was helping him eat it. The plate felt lighter in his hand, and his dagger seemed to rest more easily in the other. He smiled, knowing that once more his goddess had taken care of him and the others.
Merkass then notices Zook sulking off to the side, and feels the need to see what is bothering his friend.*
: You should try the food. It is better than any ever hunted by my people.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sat Feb 16, 2008 11:27 pm
Kyoji silently and slowly eats a Quick Chicken, observing the interplay of his new comrades. Jim also selects a chicken, and much like Kyoji, observes the others, grinning at their good humor. ((At least I have chicken.))

Posted by: Alpha Sat Feb 16, 2008 11:28 pm
Laeral's grin does not disappear, but actually grows wider at Caius' remark. : "Obviously so. After all, I love starting at the sky. And yet, people still don't know who you are. Amazing really."

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Sat Feb 16, 2008 11:44 pm
Tired of pastries for now, Enrick stands up from his seat and strolls about the dinning room, waving a hand to Laeralas. : "Hey Leary, did you have some scones yet? They are first-rate!" His eyes set on the other man who's eating chicken. : "A friend of yours?" He asks with an innocent grin.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sun Feb 17, 2008 12:06 am
"To the Shining Force!" Kyoji and Jim both say, answering Alexander's cheer and raising their own nonmagical beverages.

Posted by: Cyrus Sun Feb 17, 2008 1:08 am
Gail stared at the feast in wonder, amazed that anything could look so humble, and yet so perfect. Her eyes drifted to and fro to each immaculate food stuff...the bread looked like it came straight from the oven, the peppers shined with ripeness...She didn't know what she should take. Filling her plate with a few small things - a scattered amount of scones, various fruits and vegetables, a pint of juice - she sits and watches the others.
[Decided on not deciding anything right now.]

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Sun Feb 17, 2008 2:17 am
Taking his group to the side, Dicem waited silently, as he had at each group meeting, until all were assembled. "This will be quick, so don't worry. Obviously, as you can all tell, I'm not as dead as I use to be. I'm taking the reins again, but from what I've heard, you all deserve a few days to relax."
"I'm heading out with the kid," he continued, "to go visit his temple, like we were supposed to have a while ago. No one's forcing anyone to come, but if you want to, I'd suggest you ask him. If you have questions, you can ask me now; if not, you're free to do whatever."

Posted by: Kaihaku Sun Feb 17, 2008 2:18 am
((Side note: The Bright Honey would be better for people with low level but higher powered spells rather than dedicated casters. IE: Paladins, Bards, etc.)) Sophie smiles at the festive spirit swelling around her and chuckles happily. ((Next, Cyrus, you bum. Being level 14 justified Gail getting an apple.))
The Doctor walks back towards the festivities, a look of mild disgust written across his face as he chews on a piece of bread.
"Hello, doctor," Gilliam says, leaning against a stone wall. "You don't look too happy, I thought the goddess' fare would be more palatable."
"A hot pepper is a hot pepper by any other name…" The Doctor shrugs, arching an eyebrow at the metallic warrior, "I suppose you can't really take part in the fare, can you?"
"No, not really," Gilliam says, quietly. After a moment's pause he looks up towards the young healer. "I have... a question for you. If that's all right."
"Ask away." The Doctor smiles.
“What... Did you think when you were in Megiddo?” Gilliam asked. “I... wished you hadn't been there to see it. I am glad you survived... But I wish you hadn't journeyed into that place.”
"Well, it would be a lie to say it was a happy time, wandering halls filled with the ancient dead." The Doctor replies seriously, "Your society was great, I've spent my life honing my so-called skills and I was powerless in the face of that…computer? Fortunately, we ran into Jim and his unit…else…" He lets the thought hang in the air for a moment then sighs, "Well, I guess it proved you right, you Ancients really weren't so different from us." He looks at the warrior appraisingly, "You had more knowledge and understanding of the world, but in the end you were just mortal. Those spirits locked in eternal torment are evidence enough of that."
Gilliam sighs, sounding oddly relieved. “You seemed to have a very high regard of our past... of the Metaphans. Or perhaps not and I read you wrong. That place was the site of our greatest failure. I... I would rather my people be remembered for what they accomplished rather than what they failed. It's... heartening to know that you didn't damn us all for that place.”
"It was a long time ago…" The Doctor replies carefully, looking into the distance with a frown, "Another age, it's not my place to judge your people… No more than it was Fasher's place to judge us for not living up to his legacy."
"Indeed..." Gilliam says, quietly. "I agree."
"What about you?" The Doctor asks, "You've been around for the last thousand years, how did it feel to catch a glimpse of your world?"
"That wasn't my world," Gilliam says, quietly. "Just the ghost of it."
Gilliam looks up, towards the sky. "But... painful... unpleasant as it was... Going back forced me to confront some things... and perhaps I am the better for it. As you say, my people were but mortal. So are the people of the world now. If mortals can reach that height once... no reason they can't do it again."
Gilliam lowers his eyes from the sky. "And perhaps this time we'll do it right."
Gilliam shakes his head. "This journey has had more effect on me than the last five hundred years of my wanderings. Perhaps that too is the nature of a Shining Force."
"That's right… He jibed you…but you've still got that note promising you a living body, don't you?" The Doctor asks with a frown, "Are you going to be able to leave those ghosts behind with that armor of yours?"
Gilliam is silent for a moment, then he begins to chuckle, soon laughing in earnest for a few seconds, before shaking his head. "That note..."
"I can't leave this armor yet. It's been too long for me to remember how to fight outside it," Gilliam says. "But when the war is over, when all the fighting is finally done... I'll allow myself some rest at last. That note..."
Gilliam shakes his head and reaches into one of the pouches attached to his side. "That merchant fellow is a sly one. Exactly what I asked for, but I bet it hardly cost him a thing."
Gilliam withdraws a tattered piece of parchment that Coventry recognizes with some difficulty as the note he received so long ago. Gilliam hands the note to Coventry. "Read it."
The Doctor takes the wrinkled note with a frown. He adjusts his glasses as he read over the worn writing.
The note is not a magical spell, nor a roadmap to some enchanted fountain of panacea. It is simply a note. It reads: "Fight alongside them long enough and you will find what you seek. When they seek to free a most famous and important prisoner, make sure you accompany them. The rest will be up to you."
"So that's it…" The Doctor rubs his chin thoughtfully, "You have to stick with us until we free this famous and important prisoner…" He turns to Gilliam, his eyes thoughtful, "I suppose a god or a goddess could be considered famous and important… The rest is up to you…" He frowns, "Huh, you didn't ask her…you'll cling to the old world until you think the new world is ready…" The Doctor ponders quietly, looking into the distance, "That's the same decision Max made…saving the world before being part of it." He smiles sadly, "That choice seems a compelling one for those who tread the path of a hero."
"I wonder why it's so impossible for people to fight for the world and be part of it all at the same time." The Doctor sighs.
Gilliam chuckles. "You're assuming what I used to assume."
"Which is?" The Doctor asks, then he adds a moment later, "It has nothing to do with your body. Gail, Sorel, Max are all making the same choice."
"That I'm not part of this world," Gilliam says, flexing a metal hand and looking at it. "For the longest time I split myself into the category of the old, and considered myself apart from the new."
"That's false. Even if I can't feel sensation anymore, I'm still human at my core. I still feel with emotion, and I still interact with everyone around me," Gilliam looks up at Coventry. "When Kria's village burned, I tried to comfort her by telling her that her world wasn't gone. She still had friends in us. She replied by telling me it was the same for me. I never considered that until she said it."
Gilliam laughs. "The last place I would've thought to look for wisdom... in that bangle obsessed catfolk. Life can be funny, not just sad."
"Eccentricity isn't a sign of a fool…" The Doctor replies thoughtfully, "Kria has attested to that many times by now." He shakes his head, "Well, so when you finally think the world is ready for you to live in it, will you take the body of a human or the body of a catfolk?"
"Eh?" Gilliam asks. "What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing..." The Doctor chuckles, looking towards the others, "I think Dicem is trying to gather us all together, maybe for a nice little reunion." He smiles, "Maybe we should join him."
"You've made another assumption, by the way," Gilliam says, with a hint of humor, "Who says I didn't ask her? I'll return to the holy city when my mission is finally done. I have my guarantee."
"Assumptions are what I do." The Doctor replies as he begins to walk towards the gathering, after a short distance he pauses and glances back, "Oh, one more thing..." He speaks words of power and his hands go through the motions of a spell.
Magic courses through the metallic frame of the warrior followed an instant later by a wave of sensation. The cool sting of autumn in the mountains, the rough fabric of his coat, the ring of voices sounding in his ears...air pours through nostrils lost long ago while his feet tingle at the touch of grass.
[Polymorph Any Object: Gilliam is now a middle age human, fortunately he's wearing his coat.]
"Get something to eat, you looked famished..." The Doctor advises, waving a hand over his shoulder as he continues on, "Oh and let me know when you want to turn back, otherwise it'll somewhere between a week and forever... You're a strange case so it makes calculations difficult..."

Posted by: Cyrus Sun Feb 17, 2008 11:43 am
[So I lied. I'm a liar, it's what I do.] Gail chews lightly on her meal, taking in the joyous atmosphere that had taken root and thrived, when she spots a full honeycomb, brimming with golden honey as it sat, apparently unwanted. Taking a cursory look up and down the table, she finds no one giving it even a first glance, and reaches for it, honey running down the sides as a quarter falls into her hands. Drizzling the contents onto the pastries she had taken earlier, she sinks her teeth into a scone...and a moment later, finds them all gone, the taste of honey on her tongue the only indicator she had eaten them. A blush comes over her while she wonders if anyone saw anything, her eyes scanning the table, before deciding to simply act like nothing had happened and go back to the rest of her meal.
[Gail eats some Bright Honey. She gains a 1st level spell slot and a 2nd level spell slot.]

Posted by: Kaihaku Sun Feb 17, 2008 2:30 pm

QUOTE (Cyrus @ Sun Feb 17, 2008 6:43 pm)
[So I lied. I'm a liar, it's what I do.]

((No, you do what you're told. Now eat that damn Bright Honey.))
The Doctor whistles merrily as he walks over to the feast, placing a hand on the table laden with food and leaning forward to look down at the noble strife slayer, "How palatable do you find it?" He lets out a hot and tired breath, "The bite I had was a bit too hot for my tastes..."
The Strife Slayer lifts her head, a smile appearing at the sound of his voice itself. "I'm not sure...It must've been as sweet as it looked, as I ate it so quickly that I...never got a real taste of it," she notes, a slight blush marking her cheeks. "Though...if it's anything like the taste on my tongue now, it was certainly something to remember."
"Can I take that as an invitation?" The Doctor chuckles as he slides into the seat beside her, his eyes drifting over the feast and then off into the distance where the freshly revived rogue now stood, waiting silently for his charges to gather, "So, he's back... Funny, I always thought I'd be the one to do it, but I guess it's easier this way." He shrugs slightly, picking up an empty mug from nearby and filling it with water from a pitcher, "So, what are your thoughts on this turn of events? I missed most of it, but after all this time, he's leading us again..." His gaze shifts back to the holy knight, questioning, " It must be a relief for you."
Gail has the time and composure to muster up a flat scowl before she decides the comment was harmless, tracing the Doctor's line of sight to Cedirc-Colios-Dam, the personable rogue gathering his group for a meeting. She sighs at the Doctor's question, shaking her head. "It isn't...far from it, I'm worried about him returning to lead. Not because of how he lead us, or how he left us in the first place...I'm just not sure he's ready to do so as he is." Gail's eyes flick back to her neighbor. "You saw him when he came back...How broken he was, how scattered. He needs to recover, even if he looks fine now, he..." She turns away, pausing to choose her words. "He needs to rest, to bring himself back together, and as a leader...I'm not sure he'll get the chance." Her golden eyes return, and she meets the Doctor's eyes with her own. "Besides...why would you be expected to bring him back? It...it wasn't so long ago that you were...lost to us."
"Huh... What makes you think that I would do something because it was expected of me?" The Doctor pouts playfully, "I was hoping that you at least would have the opposite impression of me."
"It wasn't expected of you...then again, that was the point, wasn't it," She says, a small grin showing through as she chuckles. "I apologize for not taking into account the image you strive to maintain in my thoughts of you."
"I'm use to it by now..." The Doctor replies with a heavy sigh, looking down despondently, "I've treated you quite poorly and yet, you not only suffer my presence, you even grace me by continuing to speak to me." His smiles returns as he eyes drift up to meet the maiden's, "Well, you've heard this little song and dance before, I don't do things because of what other people think, I do them because I want to..." He pauses for a moment, "But I wonder... What about you? Why... No, what is it that stops you from doing the things you want to do?"
"Assuming, that is, that there are things you want to do." He chuckles, "Beyond all of this... I just had this chat with Gilliam, what's the separation between defending the world and living in it? Look at Max... Why?"
Gail stares at him, tears welling in her eyes, "BAKA!" She runs off.
((In other words, Cyrus finally collapsed at 8 in the morning so we'll continue some other time.))

Posted by: Dark Maiden Sun Feb 17, 2008 5:51 pm
[Damas gains 7 HP from the Cheerful Bread, and Kayla levels up from the Brave Apple.]

QUOTE
Kayla gains a level in Assassin! [Rogue 5/Assassin 10]

- Max HP +7
- BAB +1
- Reflex save +1
- Bluff +1
- Disable Device +1
- Escape Artist +1
- Hide +1
- Move Silently +1
- Search +1
- Tumble +1
- Kayla gains the Two-Weapon Defense feat
- Save Bonus against Poison increases to +5

[While looking through my spell list, I realized that it is royally fudged, so I had to fix it. Here is my new and improved spell list.]

QUOTE

- Level 1 Spells: Critical Strike (Complete Mage), Disguise Self, Feather Fall, Obscuring Mist, True Strike
- Level 2 Spells: Alter Self, Cat's Grace, Ice Knife (Complete Arcane), Invisibility, Pass Without Trace
- Level 3 Spells: Deep Slumber, Deeper Darkness, False Life, Misdirection, Nondetection
- Level 4 Spells: Dimension Door, Freedom of Movement, Greater Invisibility, Glibness, Poison

[If anything is wrong with this level up, let me know, and forgive me. I did this after pulling an all nighter. Also, since no one else seems to be touching the bread, I'll have Merla take one too, if that's alright.]

Posted by: GOD*JESUS Sun Feb 17, 2008 5:57 pm

QUOTE (Dark Maiden @ Sun Feb 17, 2008 1:51 pm)
[If anything is wrong with this level up, let me know, and forgive me. I did this on after pulling an all nighter. Also, since no one else seems to be touching the bread, I'll have Merla take one too, if that's alright.]

((You should give her Protect Milk. She is a defensive specialist after all.))

Posted by: Dark Maiden Sun Feb 17, 2008 6:02 pm
[God, you are such a smartass. HP is more important to a Mage than AC, since they're going to get hit 9 times out of 10 anyway.]

Posted by: GOD*JESUS Sun Feb 17, 2008 6:46 pm

QUOTE (Dark Maiden @ Sun Feb 17, 2008 2:02 pm)
[God, you are such a smartass. ]

((I do what I can.))

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sun Feb 17, 2008 9:18 pm
Gilliam gasps, nearly overwhelmed by the sudden and unexpected return of physical sensation to himself after nearly one thousand years of being deprived. No longer possessing the strength of steel, the heavy chaingun falls from his hands, hitting the ground with a loud clang. Gilliam swiftly shrugs off the ammunition pack before it breaks his back, grimacing in pain for the one moment the metal box strains his now underdeveloped shoulders. For a long moment, he just stands, trembling, eyes wide with shock. Finally, he brings his hands up to his eyes, and takes a deep breath.
"Than... Thank you, but..." Gilliam shakes his head, then begins speaking, a somewhat disjointed and fragmented speech from the combined effects of shock and not using vocal cords for centuries. "You... You can turn me back without ill effect, right? I'd asked other magic users before this and they were always unsure... I... You don't know how much I appreciate this, but... One of the other reasons I didn't want to be returned until after the war was done..." Gilliam shakes his head again, looking down. "It's... It's so very tempting to simply not go back. To just stay restored." Gilliam chuckles once. "But maybe I should face that temptation as well... I..."
Gilliam shakes his head yet again and is silent for a moment. Finally he finishes. "Thank you... Thank you. Heh... I... I need to go buy some clothes now. I'll return shortly," Gilliam says, grimacing at the massive chaingun and its ammopack. "Eh... Can you get one of the stronger ones to drag that inside? I don't want it stolen, but I'm afraid this form you've given me isn't up to the task of lifting all that..." Gilliam shrugs, then heads off to properly clothe himself.

Posted by: FreedomJu Mon Feb 18, 2008 12:14 am
Melissa sat down on the large boulder that served as her 'chair' in her tent while she was wearing her armor, with pieces of her gauss rifle on the folding table in front of her. She carefully picked up, examined, and then cleaned each piece as she was taught by the person who instructed her in the basics of GDO weaponary.
"Corporal Melissa," Jim says, approaching the Spartan.
The Spartan swiftly but carefully but down the piece of her weapon that she had been cleaning before standing up and saluting her commander officer.
Jim returns the salute, then nods. "At ease, soldier. I need to have your weapon. I'm sending it up to the Vagabond for a class five enchantment. You'll get it back in a week."
Melissa settles into the at ease stance, her eyes blinking once in confusion. "Enchantment, sir?"
"Arcane infusion. It permanently locks a small amount of energy in your weapon, enabling it to deal more damage and pierce supernatural defenses better," Jim replies.
The Spartan thought about it for a few moments and believed she understood at least part of Radford said, and eventually decided that she didn't need to fully understand it as her commander seemed to trust this 'infusion'. "Yessir!"
Melissa waited for a brief moment to see if there was anything else before seating herself to re-assemble the rifle at lighting speed. When she was finished she handed the weapon over to Radford.
Jim whistles. "Impressive work... That's a fast reassemble." Jim takes the rifle and slings it over a shoulder. "We won't be deploying until Varro's repairs are complete, but just in case we do hit trouble, you can make do with your flechette gun, right?"
Ammo would be tight in such a situation, but that just meant she would have to be careful should she find herself in combat. "I'll manage, sir."
"All right. Don't worry, you'll get this back in one piece," Jim says, tapping the rifle. "How are you adjusting, anyway? This mission's become a tad unconventional for those not used to that sort of thing."
Melissa had to agree about the mission being unconventional, but the basics of combat had stayed the same thus far. "I'm adjusting, sir."
"Good to hear, let me know if you have any questions," Jim says, nodding.
"Will do, sir."
"All right then, I'll leave you to whatever you were doing," Jim says, giving a farewell salute as he turned to leave.
"Thank you, sir," Melissa says as she gives a reply salute.

Posted by: GOD*JESUS Mon Feb 18, 2008 3:30 am
Laika remains silent during the festivities, mainly because he has nothing interesting to add to the conversation. The Wolfman decides after much thought and consideration to take some of the honey, and scones. He slowly devours his meal dipping his scones piece by piece into the honey.
[Laika eats Bright Honey! Laika gains an additional 3rd level spell per day!]
((For anyone who hasn't taken an item yet, I strongly urge you to do so.
(0) Power Wine
(2) Protect Milk
(0) Quick Chicken
(2) Bright Honey
(2) Cheerful Bread
(1) Running Pimento/Turbo Pepper
(0) Brave Apple
This includes everyone that's posted saying that they'll take something, whether it was in character or out of character saying "I'll probably take this."))

Posted by: Cyrus Mon Feb 18, 2008 6:54 am
Meanwhile... As the feast goes on, filling the room with an absorbing, excited air, a little red fox snakes along the floor to the table, weaving between the legs of the bigger beings with ease. It slinks over toes and skirts besides skirts, eventually reaching his destination and darting under the impromptu center of the feasting hall. Spotting a relatively empty seat, the animal pokes its nose out, sniffing the air around it to discern its target. The aroma of freshly baked bread hits his nostrils, and with a sudden turn, he spots it, a bowl containing the sweet promise of food perched on the table's edge. Licking his lips, he crouches downs, tensing himself until he pushes off and, with one swift motion, downs his unsuspecting quarry. The bowl follows him down with a clatter, the remaining prey ready to avenge their fallen brother, but it is too late; the fox has already begun his swift march out the door. Soon, he would eat, and be fat off the fruits of his hunt, and none will be the wiser of what had occurred.
[Okori takes a piece of Cheerful Bread, gaining 3 points to his Chi Pool.]

Posted by: Kaihaku Mon Feb 18, 2008 12:30 pm

QUOTE (GOD*JESUS @ Mon Feb 18, 2008 10:30 am)
((For anyone who hasn't taken an item yet, I strongly urge you to do so. (0) Power Wine (2) Protect Milk (0) Quick Chicken (2) Bright Honey
(2) Cheerful Bread
(1) Running Pimento/Turbo Pepper
(0) Brave Apple))

Coventry hops up and down, "Oh! Oh! Let's forcefeed Sorel cheerful bread!"
...............
Gail's eyes refuse to break away, returning the doctor's gaze while he asks his questions. It is only after his query that she turns away, pausing to consider what he's asked. "I haven't thought of it," she says, her lips pulling into a frown. "Doing what I want hasn't been a concern of mine for a long time...not since I decided to join the order, even...and that seems so long ago. When I became an initiate, they told me what was expected of me as a soldier in the Light's service, and it's shaped every decision I've made since." Her head lowers with her voice. "Give to those in need what they require. Protect, from whom would harm them, those who cannot save themselves. Lead those around you to virtue and faith by example." The maiden falls silent as she considers what next to say. "When I was finally on my own, I took every assignment I could, because that was how I felt I could do the greatest good. I ran myself ragged...it wasn't that different than working with Kaizl...only that he wasn't around." Suddenly, she chuckles, a fond smile on her face. "It's funny...he taught me so much, and yet, I'm nothing like him." She returns to Coventry, carrying the smile with her. "I suppose...just by being here, I'm doing what I want to do...even if it's what I believe others expect of me, it doesn't mean this isn't where I want to be. However...I've been wanting to visit home...both my mother and the order. I've been pushing it away because we've had so little time, but now...We'll have plenty of time on our hands, won't we?"
"As for Max...I can't know what he went through, or why he chose to cut away from his friends like he did. However...perhaps he felt that the best way to protect others was to make sure no one followed him. Perhaps he...he couldn't stand the thought of losing anyone he held dear, and thought it...would be better if they thought him gone, so that they wouldn't put themselves in danger." She pauses for a moment, before looking away and shaking her head. "I can't agree with it, though."
“I believe you.” The Doctor responds thoughtfully, his gaze drifting over the table as the maiden turns her head away, “You want to sacrifice yourself on the altar of the world.” He chuckles, “There’s a part of you that’s perfect, too good, too pure for this sullied world and it demands nothing less than the absolute of you. I wonder if that’s true of Max…even Gilliam… Or if that’s something special about you.” He glances back to her almost inquiringly, “You take on the burdens of the world like they were your birthright and when they prove too great for your mortal strength…you collapse in on yourself. Blame yourself…for being what you were born.”
“No, I can’t believe that of Gilliam or even Max… You’re different from them.” He smiles strangely, “I despise your calling…how a god could inflict such harm upon one, even one willing, and yet be good is beyond my comprehension. Yet, all the same, I envy you for your faith, even as it kills you.”
“It’s strange… Attitude holds more sway than action, after everything, even if they welcomes me, no one here depends on me.” He chuckles, "I guess freedom is nice." He hops to his feet, nodding towards the waiting rogue, “Not like you… Come, Dicem needs you. Just as Sorel did.” He slides from the table and walks in the direction of the meeting, whistling a quiet tone.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sun Feb 24, 2008 7:48 am
------- The night after Mitula's liberation... "Excuse me, Gail?" Jim asks, approaching the paladin. "Yes," the paladin asks, turning to the GDO commander with a polite smile. "I have to ask you about something," Jim says, folding his hands behind his back. "A certain secret you have concerning mysterious metal."
The paladin quirks a silver brow. "I never thought the armor that the hunter possessed was such a large secret...but yes, I don't know what her armor is made of...only that it came from a star system that is now dead and gone." She pauses revenently, bowing her head for a moment before she continues. "You know something of it, then?"
Jim frowns. "Your gnome friends acted like it was some big secret when they came to me about it. What can you tell me about the armor? Can I see it?"
"No...I left it with them," she says, furrowing her brow. "Though I don't know why they would act so secretive...in fact, I thought we decided that you would be the best source to turn to. As for the armor itself...I only know its owner was a spirit made manifest, who inhabited a blade of the same, silvery metal...she spent the rest of her new life tracking down the Strife Lords, the beings who destroyed her home...but was cast down by Xadoss in a fatal confrontation. That...that was how I came into possession of it, actually...she...she didn't make it."
"Wait... A spirit from a sword of laconia?" Jim asks. "What was her name?"
"Lisa...I only knew her first name, though."
"Lisa..." Jim appears troubled for a moment. "Then..."
Jim shakes his head for a moment. "What else can you tell me about the hunter?"
Gail ponders the question for a moment. "She was cloaked in a long silver shawl...she had a sword and a shield of the same material...the sword was the one she was pulled from, I believe. Xadoss called her the...queen of a dead star, and when she died, her...her body, it...vanished."
"Lisa... Alisa. Alisa Landale. It has to be... No one else would be the queen of..." a look of horrified comprehension passed over Jim's face. "Thank you... I think that's all I need to know. I'll help you reforge your armor," Jim says.
Gail doesn't seem to care about the offer, instead moving towards him as his face draws pale. "What happened? Please, if it's something I can help with..."
"No... Nothing anyone can help with," Jim says, quietly, his face distant. "I... I've found that the ghosts in my past have caught up with me at last."
"Thank you for the offer, though," Jim adds as he turns to leave.
Gail can only smile slightly and nod as the soldier go about his business, waving goodnight ot him before she turns away to her own tent with a sigh.

Posted by: Cyrus Sun Feb 24, 2008 7:58 am

QUOTE (Kaihaku @ Mon Feb 18, 2008 7:30 am)
“I believe you.” The Doctor responds thoughtfully, his gaze drifting over the table as the maiden turns her head away, “You want to sacrifice yourself on the altar of the world.” He chuckles, “There’s a part of you that’s perfect, too good, too pure for this sullied world and it demands nothing less than the absolute of you. I wonder if that’s true of Max…even Gilliam… Or if that’s something special about you.” He glances back to her almost inquiringly, “You take on the burdens of the world like they were your birthright and when they prove too great for your mortal strength…you collapse in on yourself. Blame yourself…for being what you were born.”
“No, I can’t believe that of Gilliam or even Max… You’re different from them.” He smiles strangely, “I despise your calling…how a god could inflict such harm upon one, even one willing, and yet be good is beyond my comprehension. Yet, all the same, I envy you for your faith, even as it kills you.”
“It’s strange… Attitude holds more sway than action, after everything, even if they welcomes me, no one here depends on me.” He chuckles, "I guess freedom is nice." He hops to his feet, nodding towards the waiting rogue, “Not like you… Come, Dicem needs you. Just as Sorel did.” He slides from the table and walks in the direction of the meeting, whistling a quiet tone.

Gail watches the Doctor depart for other things, hiding a frown behind a smile until she's certain Coventry won't see her. Her head hangs while she recalls his parting words, and she sighs. "No...there's always someone who depends on you." She looks up, to Dicem, and those that have already joined him. "It's just...how do you support those that rely on you?" Giving one last look to Alastor, Gail rises, and goes to join her companions at the gathering.

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Sat Mar 01, 2008 10:11 pm
Bored, the bladesinger did little else besides play the flute. He first tried a song he'd heard in passing years ago, one that had been especially popular with the ladies at the university. ((Perform [wind inst.]: 1d20 +12 = 15)) He managed to mostly replicate the tune, but knew that he'd missed something key. Shaking his head, he tried again - this time, one of the tunes Faralon himself had played early into the Cypressian expedition.
((Perform [wind inst.]: 1d20 +12 = 27))
Faring much better, he managed to play it completely through, though without any audience he missed the last bit of oomph he needed. Nodding at his progress, he simply lay back in the tent, relaxing slightly before the next mission in the war carried him into battle once more.

Posted by: Alpha Mon Mar 03, 2008 4:35 pm
((If nobody minds, Talacre will take the final Turbo Peppers, making his speed even more insane. As nobody has claimed it yet, I don't think there should be a problem))

Posted by: Kaihaku Thu Mar 06, 2008 2:14 pm
“Righto Alastor, all done.” Sophie says simply, setting down a freshly polished pair of boots. “Huh, that was fast…” The Doctor replies with a surprised smile, picking up a boot and looking it over appraisingly, “I thought it would take at least eight days…”
“What can I say, I’m an exceptional artisan.” Sophie replies with a proud smile.
“That you are…” The Doctor replies as he takes a sniff of the inside of the boot, “…you even got rid of that that nasty lingering lich foot odor.” He glances at her curiously, ”I tried everything, how’d you finally manage that?”
“Oh, I thought that stench was from you.” Sophie replies with a sour glance at the boot, “It wasn’t easy, let’s just leave it at that.”
“Mysterious…” The Doctor pulls the boot over his foot with a grin, “…but I can’t argue with the results.” He picks up the remaining boot, “Worth every gold piece…though, you could have given me a family discount or something.”
“You didn’t ask for one.”
“Well, I didn’t really want one…” The Doctor smiles as he pulls on the remaining boot and hopes to his feet, “Ah, brilliant, I feel faster already.” He begins walking in a circle around the priestess, “…I figured you needed the money more than ol’Derrik,”
“No arguments here.” Sophie answers quietly, a troubled expression crossing her face.
“So, did you enjoy her divine majesty?” The Doctor interjects with a smile.
“She…she was incredible…” Sophie answers, her smile returning, “Such presence…and gentle kindness...”
The Doctor nods distantly, dropping to his knees and looking over the boots once more.
“…why?”
“Hmmm?”
“Why do you ask…” Sophie replies suspiciously, her eyes narrowing, “Just get it over with, launch into your tirade already.”
“Sorry to disappoint...” The Doctor replies quietly, apparently focused on straightening his boots, “I’m not able to change this world or its gods… No matter how wrong they are…” He shrugs, “I don’t have the energy to pretend anymore…”
“Alastor…” The priestess watches her brother uneasily, “What are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He hops to his feet, brushing off his coat, “There’s no point in opposing injustice beyond what so-called opposition is ordained by the powers that be… No point in being at truly odds with this world, deviance...independence...” He turns to look at her, “In the end, we’re all just pawns in a great cosmic game.”
Sophie chews on her lip, watching her brother with narrowed eyes.
“I’m tired, Sophie…” The Doctor meets her stare before replying quietly, “I’m tired of looking for another way, of trying to create something new…of living at odds with a world that doesn’t care, being alone in a war which only hurts me.” He sighs, “The old man was right after all, I… I did want that.” He smiles sadly, “Belief…faith…trust…”
He shakes his head, “Sophie, you believe…you know that the Light loves you…unconditionally…”
Sophie looks at him uncertainly.
“What…if you were to find out that the Light didn’t love you absolutely? How long could you serve that being if you knew that its love was conditional? That…no matter the depth of your love for it, no matter how many trials you had overcome together, that no matter what sacrifices you made for it…that if it judged you lacking, its love would diminish…”
“That…will never happen.” Sophie replies with quiet certainty.
“I pray not…” The Doctor replies with downcast eyes.
“Alastor, what’s this all about?”
“I want to be loved, Sophie… I want to be loved for who I am, broken…ugly…weak…” His eyes drift up, “Absolutely, without question… Love…that exists beside hate…is stronger for hate…” He smiles weakly, “I’m not making any sense…am I?”
Sophie places a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, nodding for him to continue despite the confusion evident on face.
“I hate the hypocrisy and injustice of this world… I can think of no greater sin than that the gods favor some of their followers so highly and sacrifice others of their followers so freely.” He shakes his head, “Well, save perhaps for the sin that they would place their worshipers above other people…lowly, base…”
Sophie shakes her head sadly.
“I do want the divine to love me...for who I am..." The Doctor states quietly, staring into his sister's eyes, "I want them to accept me as I am..." He smiles sickly, "But you know...if in some miraculous way their love is genuine and I was wrong all along... If in some amazing twist, they are beings of love, justice, and mercy...when for all they seem to judge and condemn from on high. If the goddess who hands out weapons of slaughter really acts out of mercy and love…”
There is a moment of silence, which Sophie breaks, "If?"
"I doubt that I'd be able to accept that love..." The Doctor looks away, "I've seen glimpses of it...in the priesthood, in you, in others...in their scripture, a perfect all encompassing love."
Sophie is silent for a moment, then speaks as no explanation is forthcoming, "So... You've lived so much of your life in rebellion, to acknowledge that it was all wast..."
"No, no, Sophie..." The Doctor interrupts her with a laugh, "Do you have the slightest inkling of who I am?" He looks at her sadly, "Maybe, maybe the resistance does have something to do with my ego...but it's not so base as not wanting to admit that I was wrong. That so-called perfect love would be all but worthless. Don't you see that?"
Sophie frowns, "No, Alastor, I don't...think I do..."
"It’s not personal." The Doctor replies, "If it is true, then it’s not about us. They wouldn’t love us for us; they would love us because it’s their nature. Even if somehow it is unconditional, it's...generic... We're just another being to be loved, no better or no worse than any other being... Is that love? Isn't love supposed to be special, unique?"
"It is unique!" Sophie replies, "I know it sounds impossible but this is the divine, miracles are their mandate... Love can be universal and not generic!"
"That elder of yours, Hal, does he love you for who you are...or are you just encompassed along with everyone else in his attempt at universal love? Are you special to him or just another sheep?"
Sophie flounders, "Hal...is an imperfect human being... He isn’t the Light…"
"He told me how the masses give him the strength to continue...to continue on in a world of corruption and sanctimony." The Doctor shakes his head, "Does he know a one of them? Friendship is exclusive; on some level all personal relationships are...doesn't that go in the face of universal love. Can Hal call a single one of the masses friend and really mean it? If not, isn't it true that his love is more for his sake than theirs?"
"Ask him." Sophie replies quietly, “Just…remember…he’s a mortal too…
"I will..." The Doctor replies.
There is a long silence, then Sophie asks softly, "So, what flamboyant stunts are you going to perform for us this time?" She smiles distantly, "Should I expect more along the lines of reanimating that construct and breaking a hole in the roof."
"No, it’s just a waste of time and energy, a distraction from what’s really important.” The Doctor replies quietly, ignoring the attempt to lighten the mood, "Remember, I’m just a pawn… No, wait, that’s not right… I’m a healer-shaped puzzle piece and I’ll just have to fit into the appropriate role, I don’t have the energy to pretend otherwise right now.”
”…fitting into a role and being unimportant are two different things.” Sophie answers, “There have been times when I felt unvalued, like I was only important because people needed someone to heal them…but it’s not true. Just look how useful my divination has been lately and look how I upgraded your boots!” The priestess smiles, “And didn’t you help that Ancient to become human again?”
“Your divination has been helpful, but really, how many of the people who you helped couldn’t have found what they were looking for without your help? There are endless alternatives to you, it just so happened that you filled the need but that doesn’t mean that you were essential… Important, yes… Special… Unique… Irreplaceable… No.” He smiles dryly, “Preferable to Derrik, yes… Special… Unique… Irreplaceable… I think so, but that’s me…and most people write off my opinion.”
“I restored Gilliam because I promised myself I would; otherwise he had plenty of options… He knew that himself; he made it more than clear, my part in healing him was…” He laughs bitterly, “Just a part. Generic, there’s no one of a kind relationship there, I'm just one of the people who talks to him. You know… That was the first time that he had spoken to me since I was killed. The first time. We talked about his world. I got the distinct impression that he had approached me just because he wanted someone to talk to. The fact that it was me, not important.”
“…and I’m petty, that was why I transformed him then.” A hard glint shines in his eyes, “That was my rebellion, declaring no. I am an active participant not your audience.” He smiles, “So, I restored him to his old body, or close enough…and then I walked away. No gloating, no witty banter, no deep touching moment…” He snaps his fingers, “There you go, Sophie, rebellion.”
“But like I said, all I did was restore him when he didn’t expect it, it would have happened eventually regardless. Maybe I added a bit of flare but the end result is going to be the same.” The Doctor shrugs, “If I push myself to my limits or just barely try, the end result will always be the same.”
”That’s not true, Alastor.” Sophie replies, “You’re a healer, you save people’s lives, how could that seem unimportant?”
“Because, Hal… Hell, a bunch of artifacts like that ball Max carries and that jewelry Mitula handed out do it better than I do. Actually, you know, even Derrik is a better healer than I am.” He laughs bitterly, “My part, my role in this little adventure, has been filled. I was first but I’m outclassed, if I’m dead or alive, it doesn’t really matter.”
“Who have I ever helped that wouldn’t have received help from somewhere else?” The Doctor asks, “This group…after I died…they fought a Strife Lord and won…without me. Most of them survived and they brought back the ones that didn’t. I’m glad. But it just shows that I’m not what I was pretending to be. I’m not a superb healing authority or some miracle worker...keeping my charges alive when they should die through my own personal effort… I’m just another pawn, it hurts to be down a pawn, but it’s not the end of the world.“
Sophie grows quiet, looking down with a frown, unable to bring herself to speak to the memory in her mind.
“Conversely, it’s nice to be up a pawn but it’s not much appreciated for it to play around…” The Doctor shakes his head, “The useless little traits that make us unique, those are things to be tolerated by others, rarely understood and certainly not valued.”
”…is that what you really believe?”
“That’s how the world works.” The Doctor shrugs.
”Ah… Good.” Sophie lets out a relieved sigh as a smile crosses her face, “You had me worried for a second there...but you haven't really changed, you're just depressed." She looks at him intently, "We just need to find something to cheer you up."
The Doctor rolls his eyes.

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Sat Mar 08, 2008 2:03 am
((This happens the night after the recon mission at Tristan. I didn't post it sooner because, well, who cares)) Sorel sits cross-legged, his back against the sheer cliff of the mountain pass. His head is bowed. : "What happens now?" he says, but his thoughts echo a different question.
What have I become?
His eyes are closed, and imprinted against them is Kal's bedraggled, worn, and sneering face. Decades of scorn and ill fortune had beaten him into a bent, broken, and bitter man. But it wasn't Kal's face that haunted him. It was the reflection of his own. More than anything else Sorel recognized it as a life he should have led, a life he would have led... if not for her.
Fragments.
The flat, hard, barren place where the children had taken to playing. The reflection of a http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v353/VoxPVoxD/Sorel/SorelFaceAge6.png: tall for his age, round-faced and bright-eyed. Another boy, older, bigger, sullen and surly. Words exchanged, dimly remembered, like a conversation taking place ten feet behind you that's too loud to ignore but too distant to eavesdrop. Something about schoolrooms and mothers. They fought. In the dust and dirt and blood and movement there was no distinguishing the boy who had a future from the boy who had none. There was no difference between them.
The shape of a memory is shifting, amorphous. Sorel reaches out and it recedes from his touch, like a wounded animal. He tries again and catches it by the tail.
A bustling street. She's walking with him, brown hair done up in a pleat. Her dress is mended, but she carries it well. She'd have carried anything well. More words, less faintly remembered. The colors of the blooming trees, the sound of the waterfall in the center of town. Plans for the future, murky and distant: twenty years old! Thirty! He'd imagined then that she was oblivious, like everyone else. He's leaner, taller. He grabs her arm, pulls her close.
: "Come on, give us a kiss..."
Her faces changes, suspicious and fearful. She doesn't look so pretty anymore. He gets angry. He thinks about hitting her. Instead he lets her go.
The things your mind chooses to remember. If she was still alive, Sorel thinks, she hadn't thought of him in decades.
Images, sensations, strong and clear. But there were no words. There often weren't, in the grove. There rarely needed to be.
He'd been walking for months. Tristan was a continent away. The forest in the distance is getting closer. He'd have missed it completely if he hadn't lost his sense of direction three nights ago. By nightfall he's at the edge of the woods. The ground is soft and loamy; it smells like rain and summer sun. He gets a ways into the woods and a sound surrounds him. He recognizes it, in hindsight. The soft, padding sound of paws on earth.
Growls that rattle stones on the ground. A howl cuts the air.
He doesn't have time to run before the wolves are on him. Quickly he's surrounded. He looks around, his eyes meeting only wet, twitching snouts, open, slavering jaws, and bright, yellow eyes. He doesn't have time to scream before they attack.
It's only his instinct to curl into a fetal ball that keeps his throat from getting torn out. But his arms, his legs, his back, his head, they all get broken and crushed by bite after bite. His ears start to ring with static. He thinks it's the first sign of dying. His mouth fills with a bitter metallic tang. He mistakes it for his own blood.
Sorel had never seen magic up close before.
A flash of light hurts his eyes even through his eyelids, his arms, the matted hair and blood. There is a moment of terrible searing heat, quite separate from the warmth that pooled around him on the ground. The wolves whimper and scatter, though not before the alpha has the chance to mark his prey. Then there is a voice. A woman's voice, strangely accented, speaking a language he'd never heard before. It sounded wild and weird. She sounds angry -- angry at him! He can't quite muster the strength to say 'I don't understand you'. She seems to realize it all the same.
"Stupid boy. Little boy. Hold still." She leans in close, whispering in a soft and soothing voice words that sound quite different from any others she had spoken.
Sorel's eyelids become heavy. He think this is what dying feels like. He won't be sure it isn't for quite some time.
She had put him to sleep. She'd only done that one other time.
Some memories are so strong you have to remind yourself they happened in the past.
Waking up from a magical sleep feels like being pulled to the surface of a vat of syrup. Head and limbs are at once leaden and afloat. That is how he feels when he wakes up. The sun. bright and harsh on the first day of spring, stings his eyes. Her arm is draped over her chest. He nudges her. She doesn't move. He removes it gently. He squints and pulls himself to a sitting position. He notices something at his feet. A staff.
: "Did you make this?" he says to her. "What's the occasion?" He frowns, wondering why the sun hadn't woken her yet. It was odd, too -- the sun never shone this brightly in the grove. The canopy blocked the worst of it. It still takes a moment for Sorel to realize that he wasn't in the grove. He looks around to get his bearings.
Another minute passes. He sees the forest in the distance. Confused, he nudges his wife again.
: "What's going on? Oihane, wake up."
No response. He nudges her harder. She rolls over again, facing up this time. Her eyes are closed, her expression placid. He finally notices that she isn't breathing.
Panic tightens his throat. He leans down to listen for a heartbeat. Despite the sun, she's ice cold. His mouth works, forming strained and wounded half-sounds. His eyes begin to itch and burn. The ground spins beneath him. He shakes her, hard. No response. She looks as beautiful as ever. He gets angry. He thinks about hitting her. Instead he lets her go.
With a trembling hand he reaches for the staff. The carvings feel rough and unfamiliar under his palm. That will change. He stands, leaning down and picking her up, draping her body over his shoulder. Her body. His eyes burn harder, but nothing more. The trek that took her a day takes him half that. He arrives at the grove just as the sun begins to sink beneath the horizon. He lays her at the base of the tree, and tries to use the magic she'd taught him. Nothing. It starts to sink in, as the sun sinks, carrying the light and the warmth with it. The tears come at last. He collapses, clinging to her freezing body, attempting to push his warmth into her. But he knows already. Night has fallen. She isn't coming back.
Sorel opens his eyes. He looks down at his folded hands. Even in the darkness, he can see that they're fuller, less ashen and spotted. He raises his hands to his face. He almost doesn't recognize it. The weariness and weakness of decades and deaths melt away.
Sorel stands, a tall proud man just entering middle age. His hair almost shines orange in the dark.
: "I know what happens now."
: "You look different."
Sorel turns around. Somehow a giant owl and lighted upon the ground behind him without the keen-eared druid noticing. "Lunauga?" he asks, his voice dry and disbelieving. "Where have you been?"
"I was just about to ask you the same thing," the owl replies crossly. "What happened to you? What's going on? Who are all these people?"
"Are you tired?"
"No..."
Sorel smiles. "Fly with me. I can tell you all about it."

Posted by: Kaihaku Sat Mar 08, 2008 2:49 am
Cedric sits atop a pile of hewn stone, his eyes drift along the valley reflectively. Sparse buildings are beginning to spring up now that the main barracks have been completed. The fortress is slowly coming together. "Master Knight, may I join thee for a moment?" A singsong voice sounds behind him, a melody of words more eloquent than many a mortal song.
The Holy Knight of Mitula starts, turning to the source of the melodious voice, "...Lilah."
She is a striking sight, elegant serpentine coils curl upwards to become the torso of a beautiful maiden, two wings of the purest white stretched out behind her.
"Milord." The maiden bows her head with a smile, "It doth warm my heart to see thee whole and in good health."
"...when...when did you arrive?"
"I heard that thou requested a boon of thy liege lord to establish a stronghold of good in this region." The musician replies, "I departed to join thee at once upon hearing such glad tidings, though when I didst arrive though were still in the realm of Tristan."
"I...I see..." The paladin looks down with a frown, "I did not think to see you again until the reconstruction was complete."
"Great evil hath been wrought aganist thy land but the devastation is not so utter and complete." The Lillend replies with a faint smile, "There yet remains much to be restored but the greatest need has passed." She tilts her head, "...wast I wrong to believe that thou would have need of me?"
"No need worth the cost of your soul." Cedric replies wearily, "Be true to yourself..."
"Please...make no mistake, Master Knight, I hath not come to kill for thee and thy cause once more." Lilah says in simple explanation, her smile fading, "My heart hath found no answer for the torment of thy world, where death is sealed for eternity and not merely a night of respite." She shakes her head gently, "Even so, I will not abandon thee to the darkness.... I know that I canst help thee and I wilt do so to the utmost of my power."
"...thank you." Cedric answers quietly in a shaken voice.
"...how fare the others?"
"They have braved the flame and darkness...most coming forth stronger for it... They are well." His voice lowers, "Save...save for Sulia...who, out of love and duty, parted from us to search for her lost husband..." He pauses, "She...has fallen...like her love before her, entangled in the deception of the enemy..."
"Dark tidings... Though, while thou has breath, I believe that there remains still hope for her." She smiles, "Thou didst not abandon thy friend, Amelios, and though wilt not abandon her. Thou shalt find a way to save her."
"...how can say such things?" Cedric answers darkly, "Amelios is lost to us, slain by warriors of light and the most legendary of heroes." He shakes his head, "Hope... What hope did I bring him?"
"Doubt thyself if thy must but I am no poor judge of character, I trust that thou wilst create hope when none is to be found."
"My heart yearns that such were true, there is nothing for myself that I long for more..." Cedric replies quietly, "...but...I am not a restorer of worlds... I am a vanquisher of evil."
"How fareth my ward of olden times? I hath not beheld her face since we last parted ways... Though I sought her on occasion, she was oft occupied and afore we could meet I wast called for other deeds. Hath she come to dwell here?"
"Simone?" Cedric replies after a moment, "The last report I had was that she fares well, though she remains in the capital, watched over by the Lady Yeesha."
"That is good and wise." Lilah replies, "I feared that the separation would harm her... Remind her of all she hath lost until now." She shakes her head sadly, "I wast near always by her side for that dark time, to lose so close a companion so suddenly... It wast a mistake on my part not to speak of it with her."
"She has forgotten you. Forgotten us." Cedric states quietly after a moment of silence, "Her suffering is too great... Too great for her to bear another loss. Now she survives, not lives. When she does live, perchance she will recall us...but for now..."
"Your words wrench me..." Lilah replies sadly, "...though I find great truth in them." She sighs, "Let her find the peace she seeks, to rest and heal. I wilt not distract her from it."
Two figures step from the barracks, a woman who wears the simple frock of a follower of the Light and a man wearing a long gray coat.
"Manual labor." The priestess smiles back at her companion.
"This is your great idea?" He replies dryly.
"There's no truer happiness than exists in the heart of a simple laborer."
"Whoever said that wasn't a simple laborer."
Cedric glances up, remarking quietly, "It's her..."
Lilah arches an eyebrow, "Her?"
"She reminds me of Amelios...before he was changed."
"Now...where to start, there's so much left to be done." The priestess ponders aloud, glancing around the construction thoughtfully.
"We need to find Master Zook, so he can tell us not to waste our time getting in his way."
"Oh, there's the Champion of Cypress..." The priestess smiles and begins walking towards Cedric and Lilah, "He'll be able to direct us."
The man shakes his head and follows her.
As they approach, Lilah glances at Cedric curiously, "...and the man?"
"A healer from one of the other groups..." Cedric replies simply. The knight hops off the blocks of hewn stone, turning to face the priestess as she approaches, "Greetings friend..."
"Greetings, Lord Knight." The priestess replies with a smile, bowing first to the knight and then to the mysterious and beautiful being behind him, "Greetings... I am Sophie Alfort, servant of the Light."
"Greetings in kind, Sophie Alfort. I am Lilah of the Lillend, servant of art." The lillend replies with an amused smile, her eyes flit to the now arriving man, "And you?"
"Alastor." The man replies flatly.
Cedric glances at the man appraisingly, then turns his attention back to the priestess, "Is there something I could help you with?"
"Well, yes..." Sophie says excitedly, "There are several things, actually..."
Alastor steps to the side, leaning against the pile of hewn stone and staring quietly into the distance.
"Such as?" Cedric asks.
"Everyone's certain that we'll be assaulting Bedoe and freeing Volcanon..." Sophie begins with a smile, "I already spoke to Alex but this gives me a chance to explain things thoroughly."
"Things?"
"One of my friends... Well, he said that Bedoe was refusing to take the cult seriously. It sounded like they were hostile to anyone who even suggested taking action." She frowns, "I thought that leave us with no other choice but to fight..."
"That's a strong possibility." Cedric replies with a frown.
"Given how different the situation is from Tristan... I asked the Light for guidance and did some research. There are two spells I found that could help us deal with the citizens of Bedoe..."
"Cause Disease Bird Flu is all you need." Alastor interjects.
...
"What are they?"
"One is called Spread of Contentment, it will make living beings in the spell area less likely to react in a hostile way to us and more likely to view our actions in the best way possible."
"It sounds a lot like a charm spell..." The lillend points out.
"...huh, it does..." Sophie replies thoughtfully, "...but its a long distance spell and affects a large area. I thought it would be good for preventing bloodshed."
"I concur." The paladin replies thoughtfully, "What will you need to cast it?"
"I'm willing to cover the costs myself." Sophie replies, "I have some independent income and I'm willing to use it to help the group."
Alastor shakes his head and chuckles.
Lilah glances curiously at Alastor.
Cedric ignores the laugh, nodding seriously, "Thank you, I appreciate your generosity but...there's no need to take on such a burden, I assure you that there are plenty of funds available."
"Um... It's fine." Sophie answers firmly, "Besides, if I was going to ask for reimbursement, I'd ask Alex." She crosses her arms, "The other spell I had in mind is called Sympathy..."
"Sympathy?" Lilah whistles, "Thou art quite a potent enchantress then."
"Manipulation is what she does."
"...it will attract weak willed birdman to a location that I specify." Sophie continues with a glare at Alastor, "It should draw most of the civilians out of the city... I mean, it's not perfect...most of the soldiers could just shrug it off, but it should keep us from running into hatchlings in the middle of a spell fight."
"Good thinking..." Cedric nods approvingly, "Though, what happens to the birdmen that are drawn away from the city?"
"The spell will last a few hours..." Sophie explains, "Then they can return, it should allow us plenty of time..."
"I meant in regards to their safety? If its only the weak willed, then its entirely possible that a stray beast or cult reinforcements could wipe them out." Cedric frowns, "I don' t want to be responsible for the deaths of most of Bedoe."
"I...I hadn't thought about that..."
"Enchantment can be a two-edged sword." Lilah remarks quietly, "It must be wielded with caution..."
"I'll ask the other leaders if they have troops who could be spared to guard the...refugees for lack of a better word." Cedric adds reassuringly, "I appreciate your thought, those two spells could make the difference between a bloodbath with innocents caught in the middle and a clean strike against our enemies."
Sophie smiles proudly.
"Alex is fortunate to have such insightful tacticians under him." The paladin grows silent as he realizes what he just said. Amelios...the priest who became a tactician...
"I'm not that insightful..." Sophie blushes and looks down, "...not compared to Alex...but everyone has good thoughts sometimes..."
If he hadn't died...that first time... Cedric stares into the distance. ...how different would things have turned out?
"I would that I could help thee further..." Lilah holds a finger over her lips thoughtfully, "...but I fear that my limited powers would be of little benefit...in such a struggle..."
Cedric snaps out of it, glancing up at the Lillend, "I don't want you to return to battle."
Alastor arches an eyebrow, turning to watch this interaction.
Lilah turns to look at the paladin.
Cedric states firmly, "You were right to leave the battlefield."
Sophie glances from the paladin to the lillend and back again, confused.
"I hath no doubt of that..." Lilah answers quietly, "...though that knowing doth not diminish my sorrow at leaving behind those in the same plight."
"The same plight?" Sophie asks.
"In my realm, death lasts for but a night..." Lilah explains, "Therefore, I never did think more of slaying a foe." She shakes her head sadly, "In this twisted world, death is eternal... Battle is of a far differing nature..."
"Death only lasts a night?" Sophie says, surprised.
"Indeed..." Lilah answers, "I wast an musician in that land, glorifying the never-ending battles of the plains and the heroes of the days. Great deeds came at a less terrifying cost."
Cedric looks down with a frown.
"Perhaps I am not so stern as thy kind...banishing a being from life for all of eternity... It crushes my spirit and hardens my heart, I gave it thought one night in the midst of pressing darkness and I saw that if I continued on thy path, I wouldst lose myself."
"Our struggle is a hard one, that much is true..." Sophie begins carefully, "...but we must persevere in the face of the darkness... Someone has to make a stand for the Light, else all will be lost."
Lilah smiles patiently.
"The truth is, that one does not lose themselves by opposing the darkness but by not opposing it."
Alastor blinks.
"This war...it demands sacrifices of us..." Sophie continues softly, "There are things that we have all left behind...things we may never return to...but we did that because we must."
"Is there only path of opposition?" Lilah asks quietly.
"...no...no..." Sophie answers with a frown, "...but there must be armed opposition if there is to be hope. The darkness must be cast down."
"...without that opposition..." Cedric says quietly, "...all the rest is lost..."
"Is it?"
Sophie glances at her brother sharply, "All hope rests in defeating the darkness...everything will be lost otherwise..."
"There is no other way." Cedric states simply.
"Perhaps... I have nothing that can deny that..."
Sophie shakes her head.
"But...is hope so great?"
"There's nothing without hope, Alastor." Sophie replies with a frown, "No future, nothing."
"I disagree." Alastor replies.
Cedric glances up at the man, "Then what? Speak."
"There was a man crossing over a bridge who upon happening to glance down, noticed that there was a scorpion floundering in the stream below. He bend down to reach for the lost creature to pull it from the drink...and he was stung for his good deed. He withdrew his hand at the sharp pain but a moment later...he reached for the scorpion again... This happened again and again, the man would not leave the scorpion to drown and the scorpion would not allow itself to be touched."
Cedric arches an eyebrow.
"Now, after he did not return home, the wife of the man went looking for him and found him there on the bridge, hand red and swollen. She watched him reaching again and again for the scorpion. 'Stupid man,' she said, 'what are you doing? Leave the scorpion to drown.' He looked to her and replied 'It is the nature of a scorpion to sting; it is my nature to love... The nature of the scorpion hasn't changed despite all his troubles, why should my nature change?'"
((Actually, that's a vietnamese folk story. I stole it.))
Cedric pales slightly.
"His position is hopeless... His kindness will always be returned with harm. There's nothing. Why should he continue? Now, what if he met that scorpion in his home... If he were to crush it, in opposition to his nature, it would harm him more than the sting of a scorpion ever could."
"Hope is overrated." Alastor shrugs, "Integrity... Personal integrity is worth just as much...if not more."
"...he should have just used a pole to knock the scorpion out of the stream." Sophie says with an uncomfortable laugh.
"Sometimes, following your own nature leads you to places where you don't see the other options...where sacrifice seems the only choice possible." Alastor answers quietly, "Perhaps, sometimes, there are no other options."
Lilah chuckles with a twinkle in her eye.
"Which is more important? Having a future or being true to yourself?" Alastor asks, "It really depends on the person, fortunately I think most people can have both most of the time."
Sophie shakes her head.
Cedric says hoarsely, "...and what of the scorpion?"
"What of it? Creatures of differing natures will always innately cause harm to one another in turn causing growth as they learn new ways of approach and interaction..." He glances at Sophie, "Poles."
"If it the nature of the scorpion to sting, why should it be allowed to continued doing so. If the man loves, he should act out of love to stop the scorpion from stinging children."
"A scorpion doesn't sting out of malice...if anything it is one of the most fearful of creatures." Alastor continues, "Why should it be banished from existence for defending itself?"
"What of fiends, who do act out of malice?" Cedric demands, "Who by their very nature seek destruction and slaughter."
"There's no hope apparent, is there?" Alastor replies simply.
”Alastor, what good is integrity when fiends have conquered the world, enslaved the survivors, and consumed your very soul…barring you from the afterlife?”
“What good is existence without integrity?”
”Alastor, there have to be compromises in life.” Sophie lets out an exasperate sigh, “The gods are the only absolutes.”
His frown deepening, Cedric looks to the east.
“Of course there are compromises and ingenuities…” Alastor replies, “But, on the most fundamental level, when there are no other choices…no tricks, no poles… What do you do?”
”This is going nowhere…” Sophie grumbles, she turns to face Cedric, “I apologize, my brother and I wanted to help with the construction… What could we do?”
”There…are materials that need to be prepared...but I’d leave the actual building to Zook and his followers.”
“Preparing materials… You mean like splitting wood and cutting stone?” Alastor sighs, glancing around, “Say, do you need an outer wall?”
”Eventually, yes…” Cedric glances at the flanking cliff face, “…but its not a priority.”
”I thought to aid with the building directly…” Lilah begins with a smile, “…or perhaps no so directly…” She holds up her lyre with a smile, “Though, I worry that my strength will swiftly fade and that the cold will buffet me.”
”The magical lyre…” Cedric says with a frown, “I’d forgotten about it.”
“I can restore your strength, if you falter.” Alastor offers quietly.
”…and I can ward you from the cold.” Sophie grins.
”Excellent.” The lillend smiles, “Than I shall begin at once…” She pulls forth her lyre and begins to stroke the strings, singing a song of coming together and growth.
The song echoes across the valley and building materials begin to stir.
[Perform(Voice): 37, 47, 38, 49, 47, (20) 64]

QUOTE
Lyre of Building 1/Week - Produces 600 man-days worth of construction of buildings, mines, etc., per hour played. After the first hour, a Perform (string instruments) check vs. DC 18 must be made to continue. Despite being back at level 12, she passes that by more than 15 even on a 1. She'll sing for six hours this time (the equivalent of one man working for 3600 days), next week we' ll go for a marathon concert.
Coventry removes fatigue as necessary and Sophie casts resist elements.

The three listen to the wondrous music silently, watching buildings beginning to take shape and form.
Finally, Alastor turns to the holy knight, asking bleakly, "So…where do you want your wall to be, exactly?"
The holy knight glances at the man, a questioningly expression on his face, he points to a point along the cliff, "There."
"Right…" Alastor sighs as he begins walking towards the indicated point.
Cedric glances at the priestess.
"Alastor…" Sophie frowns, "What are you doing?"
"Manual labor." He replies dryly, not bothering to glance back.
Cedric crosses his arms and watches the lone healer.
Alastor reaches the cliff and walks along it, running a hand over the rough surface. Then he stops and looks around thoughtfully.
"What's he doing?" Cedric asks quietly.
"I have no idea…" Sophie replies with a frown.
Apparently satisfied, he cracks his gloved fingers and let out a heavy sigh. Then he crouches down and slams his palm down onto the bedrock . (I am the full metal alchemist!) The ground stirs ever so slightly, then he raises his hand, palm upraises while speaking commandingly. Upheaval results.
A great shallow pit sinks into the stone while a towering wall of rock raises above it, the stone flowing upward. A single set of rough stairs come into shape along the interior of the wall, formed from solid rock.

CODE
The wall and moat. ____ +30 feet | | | | __ | |____ ground level
|______|
-20 feet
The wall is twenty feet wide and thirty feet high. The moat is 20 feet deep and thirty feet long.
Total 60 cubic feet of stone, adjusted to 70 to cover mistakes.
170 cubic feet of stone per casting.
Each casting creates approximately a 24 foot long segment of wall and moat.

QUOTE
Stone Shape, Greater(SC) <Trans[earth], VS/DF, 1StdAct, Touch, Instantaneous> Permanently reshapes a single piece of stone of up to 10 cubic feet + 10 cubic feet per level into a shape of the caster’s choosing, though fine detail is not possible. You can form an existing piece of stone into any shape that suits your purpose. While it’s possible to make crude coffers, doors, and so forth with stone shape, fine detail isn’t possible. There is a 30% chance that any shape including moving parts simply doesn’t work.

Alastor frowns as the wall springs into being, only jutting a short distance from the cliff. He lets out a heavy sigh and walks to the end of the wall, repeating the process and doubling the length of the wall and moat.
[The wall extends 168 feet into the valley]
He continues on in this fashion, causing the stone to rise up into fortification and leaving a defensive depression before it. Then, as he nears the center of the valley, he pauses and turns to look back at the fruit of his labor.
"That…was sudden." Cedric states quietly, glancing at the priestess, "Is he always so rash?"
"You could say that." Sophie says quietly as she walks to her brother.
Cedric shakes his head…unable or unwilling to suppress a quiet laugh.
Alastor glances at her dryly as she approaches, "So, I don't feel truly happy."
"Your personality is a bit rough but your craftsmanship has improved…" Sophie chuckles, "Not only a wall but stairs and a moat."
"A moat?" Alastor echoes, glancing at the vast pit, "That's not a moat, it's a pond for ice skating in the winter, swimming in the summer, and fishing the rest of the time."
"I see…" Sophie laughs, "But that's going to take a lot of orisons to fill…"
"Orisons? That's not very practical…" Alastor shakes his head, "I'm going to add a waterfall when it's finished."
"A waterfall?" Sophie continues to laugh, "Brilliant."
Cedric walks slowly up to join the two by the end of segment of wall sprung from the very rock and studies it appraisingly.
"I'm going to have to give that spell a try…" Sophie says excited, "All the possibilities, the other casters can join in and we can get this wall completed in no time." She almost bounces, "Oh, oh…I know a spell that might be able to strengthen the stone! I bet some of the others can make it permanent!"
Alastor turns to look at her sardonically.
"Oh, just think, Alastor…" Sophie continues, unable to contain the sudden influx of ideas, "With all of the casters we have gathered here, some of the best in the world… Ah, the possibilities! Eternal gardens, sentient libraries, chambers of healing, floating towers…"
"Don't get so carried away, Sophia." Alastor warns quietly, "You just suggested that magic might have purposes beyond combat. That's mad."
He slides his hands into his pockets and begins walking back to the barracks.
Sophie turns to look after him, "Alastor?"
Cedric turns to watch him with a frown.
"Why…" Sophie shakes her head.
"Why…indeed..." Cedric echoes quietly, glancing back to the towering stone, "Why indeed."

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sun Mar 09, 2008 3:53 am
“Simone…” The Doctor says quietly, approaching the ascended one, “How are you holding up?” "I'm doing all right," Simone says. "They let me in the royal library now. There's so many books to read there, I've never seen so many rare books!" Simone smiles, seeming to be in a good mood this day. "Have you been working with the fort? I hear when it's done I can go there and visit everyone again."
“Must be incredible…” The Doctor answers distantly, glancing down the hall in the supposed direction of the library, “Yeah, the fortress is beginning to come together.”
“Simone.” He sighs heavily, “I’m sorry.”
"Huh? Why? What's the matter?" Simone says, looking at the doctor with worry.
“…there’s a great struggle in your future…” The Doctor answers quietly, turning back to her, “I wanted to help you prepare for it…but I’m…I’m not…” He smiles sadly, “I don’t even know where to begin…”
“Have any of the others come to you?” He waits a moment, then shakes his head, “No, from your face, I can tell they haven’t…”
“The Goddess spoke to us of many things…including you…” He continues seriously, “The…” He shakes his head, looking as if he might cry, “The…last… I was so stupid, why didn’t I see it before…”
"Gracia..." His voice becomes uncharacteristically stern, "Gracia has lost his powers."
"That means...short of a miracle... Arthur has as well...if, indeed, he retained his spirit..." He looks away, "That's not important now... The last of the Innovators are no more."
"Volcanon... Mitula... They cannot overcome the Vandals, if they could have turned that tide...they would have long ago..."
"Galm threatens even the creator."
“I…think Mitula agrees with me…” He looks up at the ascended one quietly, “...even if the others don’t see it, you’re the last hope this world has. The balance has been broken.”
“Even still, there may be no hope…” He sighs, “Mitula said that you are not a true Innovator but…rather…something else…” He reaches into his pocket and hands her a small jewel encrusted golden comb, “All are seeking you, to take your power for themselves… You must not fall into their hands, if all else fails, break this comb and you’ll be transported to our stronghold.”
Simone opens her mouth, but no sound comes forth, she looks like she's in shock.
"I... I..." she says, then she shakes her head and takes the comb, determination settling in her eyes. "I will not, don't worry."
Simone puts a hand on the doctor's shoulder, comfortingly. "After everything everyone's done for me... I won't back down now. If there's a struggle in my future... I'll just have to face it."
“Imagine how I feel…” The Doctor replies quietly, “At least you have the latent power, all I have is a legacy that’s going to cause my death.” He smiles sadly, “I’m going to find Gracia soon and then see if I can unseal the Creator's Ship… I doubt that the Ur or Galm will allow it. You’re our last hope, don’t be reckless.”
“The command word is the name of the champion of cypress, you must say his name when you break the comb for the magic to work.”
"Wait," Simone's face scrunches up in confusion. "WHICH champion of Cypress?"
"Oooooh," Simone says, suddenly.
"I thought it was his title..." Coventry frowns, "I've been around Sophie too long."
"No, I know who you mean now," Simone says with a giggle. "He's got so many titles now."
“Good luck.” The Doctor waves, turning to go, “We’ll all need it.”
"But..." Simone says, the smile falling. "What do you mean you've a legacy that will cause your death?"
“As far as I know, I’m the last one of that lineage…” The Doctor replies, “There are plenty of half-vandals…but I’m… It doesn’t matter, I’ll be as helpless as all of Galm’s spawn have been before him. But like them, I have to try.”
"You're..." Simone says, arching an eyebrow. "You're the son of Arthur?"
“Not really…” The Doctor smiles sadly.
Simone looks confused. "But Gracia's way too young..."
“If I live, I’ll tell you sometime.” The Doctor says quietly as he continues on, parting with, “I believe in you...for what its worth.”
"Thanks..." Simone says, quietly. "I look forward to hearing about it... because you WILL live."

Posted by: Kaihaku Sun Mar 09, 2008 8:28 am
Gail, during the march upon the bird-god's city on a hill, spots the Doctor behind her, only barely keeping up with the majority of the group. Glancing about the column, more of a habit than anything else, she assumes no one is watching before slowing her pace to match with Alastor's, soon joining him. "How are you feeling?"
The Doctor looks up at her, something strange passing through his eyes, then he smiles wearily, “We couldn’t have asked for better weather.” He glances up at the clear sky, “Surely, the gods must be favoring our endeavors to free them.”
Gail studies the Doctor for a moment, before her furrowed brow softens and her eyes follow the Doctor's lead. "We always seem to fight on days like this," she mentions, her eyes not moving from the sky. "It doesn't seem to matter...how we fight, where we fight, the odds against us...we always have the sun at our backs." Her gaze doesn't hold for much longer, her head bowing to the ground. "...Or the lighting of ancient ruins, or the stars of a clear night sky." A moment passes, and she leaves her thought to hang in the air.
"Yes…" The Doctor replies softly, "I'm sure that will make our end all the more epic."
Gail simply turns to Alastor, watching him with worried eyes.
The Doctor meets her stare.
Gail locks eyes with Coventry, then lets go, turning to the trail below them. "You believe that we won't succeed...after all that we've accomplished?"
"I...wonder..." The Doctor says, "Am I crazy...or am I the only one who heard her?"'
"Who have we ignored," the knight errant asks.
"Mitula." The Doctor laughs, "I was stupid... Why didn't I put it all together before." He turns to look at the holy knight, "Don't you see? Gracia has lost his status..." He chuckles bitterly, "The Ur hold a great power which allows them to block even the sight of the Goddess. The power of your god." He shakes his head, "With the blessing of Volcanon and Mitula, we may be able to overcome them and free that power...but...do you think Galm will sit idly by and allow us to restore the Innovators? This is his dream at last realized, no more of his kin remain."
Gail's gold eyes stay fixed on Alastor while he speaks, widening as the scope of events becomes known. The soldier's stride slows, her gaze falling dead with all the thoughts left in its wake. "No...," Gail whispers, finally bringing a hand to her hanging mouth, "It...it can't be...The Light is not a single..." She stops herself, collecting whatever calm she could muster to make herself more coherent. "To...To say that they've captured the Light...that would mean The Light exists as a being, an entity...I can't see the need for the Light to do such...to be such." She looks to the mountains and the sky beyond. "If it could tell us what it needed to...what would be the point of this? What purpose would life serve, if we could ask the creator what it meant? I...I can't say to know the Light or its motives...what person can truly say that they know the purpose of their creation? But, I..." The knight turns back to Coventry, meeting his eyes again. "I can say that the vastness of creation cannot be held down to be bled...that one cannot strike at the core of existence and dig out what makes it life. That...that is what I know."
“It is beyond me to know what truth is true, the words of Mitula saying that the creator can take on a single form or your belief in the Light of creation embracing all existence.” The Doctor replies simply, “What I do believe is that the Creator’s Ship is now held by Ur and that this whole world trembles at the implications.”
“They have the Ark, and all the foul power contained within.” He continues quietly, a defeated look in his eyes, “Even against that we might yet persevere but…but… They have the ship and all the sacred power it contains. The Innovators are no more and in the last war Galm destroyed the last of his opposition from the Vandals.”
“Galm will never allow the Innovators to return.” The Doctor states plainly, “Descendants… Even half-bloods aren’t enough. Not against Galm.”
"Heroes... Gods... Shining Forces..." He shakes his head, "Without one of the kin, it doesn't mean anything... There are no Vandals nor Innovators left to join us in opposing Galm."
"Even if there were, Galm has crushed all of them before." The Doctor continues darkly, "The balance was fragile before… Now?"
Gail falls silent again, unable to see a true ray of hope through the Doctor's conclusion. What if it was true? Could the Ur make gods of themselves? Could the Vandals raise a new kingdom? It seemed so impossible...but then, it was the vessel of the Light, the receptacle of pure evil and hatred in the world. If opened...it would cast life itself into ruin. The knight hangs her head, her silver hair falling around her face to hide her expression. No words are passed, one moment passing into the next, before Gail's voice breaks the silence. "When we were searching for Max...I never thought we would find him. I thought we were chasing a legend...a myth, a flicker of hope. I thought, at most, we would find a grave to him, or the rumors we were chasing would lead to a fake...but regardless of what I thought it would amount to, what such a noble cause meant made pursuing it worth it. A group searching for a hero...even if we didn't succeed, it gave hope to all that heard it. More than Max himself, that was the true gift...hope." She turns to Alastor, her eyes resolute. "We've done so many things others would call impossible, insane, all from preserving...destroyed a hellish stronghold, killed a Strife Lord, rescued Mitula...and with each victory, we restore a small amount of hope to the world. Even if nothing more comes of our efforts, we have brought hope. No matter the odds against us, as long as a small glimmer of hope still lives, then no action is wasted...no endeavor is worthless."
The Doctor looks at her distantly, then shakes his head, “Promise me something.”
Gail stares at Alastor, waiting for him to continue.
“You have a beautiful vision, don’t…don’t let it die…” The Doctor replies in a voice both fond and sad, "No matter what happens."
"May I ask a promise in return?"
“What is it?”
"Help me keep it alive," the maiden says, her face serious while she waits for the reply.
The Doctor is silent for a moment, looking shaken, “I…I will as long as I’m able…” He looks away, “…but don’t rely on me.”
Gail watches the Doctor, conflicted about the burden she has just given him, before she smiles warmly at her dear friend. "It's...all that I can ask. Thank you."
The Doctor smiles sadly and nods on.

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Thu Mar 13, 2008 1:33 am
One morning during the time between the events at Tristan and Bedoe, Hal takes leave and teleports to Shade Abbey. After walking through the gates, he asks where the Abbess can be found, and is told she is giving the morning liturgy at the chapel. Hal heads there, and steps through the open door, taking a seat on a rear pew.
The chapel, huge as it is, is still jam packed with soldiers, monks, and refugees. Hal is even able to see most of the scattered Shining Force remnants here. All listen carefully to Khris' words. Khris gives a moving sermon on the triumph of courage, compassion, and altruism over adversity as Hal enters. The troops and monks crammed into the normally spacious chapel all seem caught on the dimunitive Abbess' every word, and she finishes to applause, while a tall elf leads a choir in the closing hymns.
Hal joins the listeners in applause, keeping an eye out for where the Abbess heads after her sermon is complete. He notices her depart towards the courtyard, and backs out of the chapel during the hymns, heading to meet the Abbess.
Khris turns to Hal and smiles as she sees him approach.
"Ah, Brother Hal. Nice of you to visit my humble abode once more. Care to join me? I'm walking on weekly inspection," Khris says.
"I'd love to, Abbess," Hal replies.
Khris motions for Hal to join her as she begins walking towards the Abbey walls.
Hal follows silently.
"So what brings you here?" Khris asks.
"Alexander and the other leaders managed to free Mitula in Tristan," Hal answers. "I think they're going to head to Bedoe next. But in the meantime, everyone else has been off gallivanting on secret missions or hunting for treasure. Have you had any news from elsewhere?"
"Only that the Pao plainsman repelled an attack by the Cult," Khris says. "Apparently the Cult couldn't take the constant hit and run tactics and fell back to Bustoke."
"How has Bustoke been faring?"
"It's under Cult rule, not well," she shakes her head. "There's been scattered reports of some unknown group raiding the Cult there though, but nothing concrete."
Hal nods gravely. "The world needs healing more than ever. I wonder, Abbess, do you remember our last conversation, when you said there were secret healing arts that might help us?"
"Mostly, yes," Khris says with a nod, coming to a set of stone stairs that lead up to the battlements. The kyantol begins ascending. "Do you want to learn them?"
"Yes," Hal says softly. "The Ur, they... they steal power from the gods themselves. They take holy light and bend it to death and carnage. I've never seen such a horrible thing."
"The Ur..." Khris says with a frown. "I thought they had all but vanished from the world. Where did you find such a person?"
"They are behind the disappearance of the gods," Hal says. "And the Chaos Cult is behind them. We fought a man named Naerth, who had taken the sacred Ground Orb and was using it to wreak havoc and destruction."
"That such a thing should pass so soon after the last wars," Khris says, shaking her head. "Still, you freed Mitula, so it only goes to show that Light will win through in the end." Khris reaches the top of the battlements, walking along the walls and inspecting them closely. "Mae walks here to inspect their strength, I walk the walls to inspect the wards I placed on them."
"Do they hold?"
"Quite well, if I do say so myself," Khris nods, satisfied. She continues to walk. "So you wish to learn more of the healing art."
Hal nods.
"Well then, tell me,' Khris says, walking. "What thoughts run through your mind when you heal someone in the middle of a battle?"
Hal walks in silence for a moment. "I think about Alexander's wife and children. I think about the many star-soldiers who gave their lives to clear the evil from Megiddo. I think about the Tristan guards who were killed and replaced with dopplegangers. I think about the devestated ranks of the Order of Mitula. I think about all the people who have been hurt and killed in this war. I think about all the people who had no healer to protect them."
Khris frowns. "Well that. That's a problem."
"What do you mean?"
"Healing is the channelling of positive energy, the energy that heals us is the stuff of love, joy, and above all compassion," Khris says. "One trick I learned in the war, is that if I focused on how happy my patient would be while healed, if I could lock out all the horror and just think about how good he'd feel when made whole, I healed better. Positive energy channels through our minds better when we focus on positive things..." Khris winces. "...which can be very hard to do in war."
VoxPVoxD: then why is Coventry so good at healing >:[
VoxPVoxD: I mean
VoxPVoxD: uh
"Hard is an understatement," Hal says. "I worry sometimes about failing in the task the Light has given me, and often during a battle. I recall during the fight at Megiddo, one of the leaders was slain, and I very nearly was as well." He smiles a bit. "It was only after focusing on the love the Light had for us, and focusing on the gift I've been given to channel and spread that love, that I was able to get back up. Your advice is good. How do you do it?"
"I try to just focus on the good times I've had and the good times I think I'll have," Khris says with a small smile. "It takes practice to concentrate on such things in a battle, but it can be done."
VoxPVoxD: so you've got to ac-cen-tuate the positive
TheUnknownMarine: Don't worry.
TheUnknownMarine: Be happy.
Hal nods, thinking over this silently.
"Talk to me again when you've given that some work, I'll check on your progress," Khris says, completing her circuit of the walls. "Anything else?"
Hal thinks for a moment before shaking his head. "No, thank you, Abbess. I think I have a lot of work to do now. Thank you again."
"You're always welcome, Brother Hal. Walk with the Light," Khris says, with a wave
Hal waves in kind. "Light be with you, Abbess."

Posted by: Rusty Thu Mar 13, 2008 1:44 am
((Since there's some food left and Faralon has yet to take any, he'll have a Bright Honey. Rolled a 3, so I guess he'll take a level 3 spell.))

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Tue Mar 18, 2008 3:31 am
((Whenever after day 1...)) A bizarre clock rang tea-time in the great hall as one after another, members of Enrick Mansion’s staff bustled about to their appointed business. Amongst the hourly comings and goings, a woman came from a small storage room near the kitchens and followed a narrow path to the left of the large staircase at the front gates, carrying a metal tray that held a precious white tea set and a fine box containing an assortment of biscuits. The maid entered the nearby room where two figures sitting at the far end of a long oak table were caught in a lively discussion. She brought them their timely drink, making her way to the other side of this wide room where an impressive collection of crockery, cookware and books, arranged neatly on the shelves of their respective transparent cabinets was set in a range along the wall. She placed the tray on the table between the two men and prepared what necessary while they conversed.
"Enrick... Oh, Lord Enrick?" The Doctor says in a singsong voice, "You have quite the reputation as a treasure hunter..." He grins, "Do you live up to it?" He places a hand on the table firmly, looking at the noble, "I'm in need of a bit of loot and I'm always up for an adventure, got any suggestions?"
: “Why of course! Dear Doctor, my friend, what time I spent within adventurous grounds grew an expert in my chosen field, that is, treasure hunting.” The noble replies mirthfully with a smirk as the maid fills his china cup and the guest’s with the hot jasmine tea before leaving the room again quietly.
"Sounds like I came to the right person..." The Doctor follows with a grin, holding his cup of tea lightly, "So, what's the first step?"
The noble levels the cup to his lips and drinks some tea at little gulps, appreciating the liquid’s scents in the meantime then nodding satisfied. He replies smugly to the good doctor.
: “Well, it depends on the kind of loot you’re after, and what you are willing to risk to obtain it.” For a moment, he is held back in self-surprise, “…Did I really say ‘risk’?” He laughs softly and rolls his eyes, noting the silliness in his remark.
: “I know plenty of places so far as the eastern edge of Aspinia.” The fancy aristocrat resumes after some more tea, “There might be little to no concurrence in these times, so the choice remains wide. But you pick up your marks. You know the region, don’t you? It would be rude of me to impose you foreign grounds.”
"Oh, but I've always thought the foreign had such a delightful flare to it..." The Doctor replies in a low moan, then he chuckles, "Well, what kind of options do we have?"
"Surviving underwater isn't a problem, not with me around, so I'm up for sunken treasure. I don't know how I feel about fighting dragons...but you can't argue with the results." He ponders aloud, "I'd really rather not be cursed but I'm up for ghosts, after those ruins, I think I might just laugh in the face of a normal ghost."
"I'm not much for digging around, but you never know, maybe there'd be some fun in playing pirate, hopping from isle to isle looking for ol captain nora's stash."
"Then...maybe some lost stash, nothing to be missed if it's already gone missing, there's a lot to be found around here, as you say..." He raises his cup of tea, "Speaking of which, is it really stealing to rob a thief?"
He blows on his tea to cool it.
About to drink some more, the noble withdraws the cup and puts it back on the table. Leaning an elbow on the edge of his chair, he rests his head in his hand and stares at the doctor amusedly for a moment before answering.
: “Doctor… Honestly *chuckle*… The hypothetical thief could still thread the lands back and forth this very day that I wouldn’t bother thinking it over. When I get to discover valuables goods, whoever is the current owner of the pile is none of my concern. Well, unless of course the person we’re talking about is a… *smirk* fine treasure hunter such as myself who is still of this world, thankfully!” He shakes his head, “That wouldn’t be fair play…”
: “Hmm… Go for the foreign lands. What’s your preference then?” He adds with a broad grin. "Did you get to travel to far away places? Oh that would change me from my usual hunting grounds, that much is sure!"
"I'm up for just about anything…" The Doctor replies with a cool smile, "Though, I was thinking we could start by each snooping around a bit and seeing what we could find. Pour over a few tomes, ask a few knowledgeable sorts, and drop a few coins around some bars."
"Then, decide on a first mark from that." He adjusts his glasses, "Of course, speaking of preparations, while you and I are a great team, I think it wouldn't hurt to recruit another one or two specialists…no more than that, we don't want to spread the rewards too sparingly." He rubs his chin thoughtfully, "I know just the rat for a job like this, if he hasn't retired after that cheesefist fiasco."
"Course, being the bona fide experienced treasure hunter, you should take command of things…" The Doctor adds with a smile, "Those were my thoughts, in terms of how to attack this beast, how's it sound to you?"
:"Wondersome!" He exclaims, raising his cup in Coventry's direction and grinning haughtily, "To our most cherished expedition! Hahah!"
With that, he finishes his drink off and leaves the cup on the table, reaching out for some biscuits.
: "Naturally I'll take the lead... but you can be my assistant from here on if such is your wish."
He grabs the plate and holds it out casually to the doctor.
: "Want some? They're homemade."
"Homemade by your personal baker?" The Doctor replies taking one with a smile, "I'm perfectly willing...glad really, to play the assistant."
He takes a bite, chews appraisingly and nods, his smile growing, "Delightful."
...Later...
The Doctor appears before the expedition master, waving a piece of paper covered in elegant script, "Righto... I talked to a sage and she... Huh, sage? Sagess? Eh, well, she had a few leads, none too great but I'm sure you have a slew of your own so I wasn't too discouraged."
The paper contains the following...
I know knowing of dragon hordes or haunted treasure.
As for buried treasure, there are rumors that a pirate fleet buried treasure somewhere in the island nation of Waral.
During the first Shining war, there was a pirate fleet which sunk near Uranbatol. Because of the fighting, it is generally assumed that no one ever had a chance to loot the shipwrecks.
As for lost treasure, it will be of little help for you because of the state of Rune, but there's a tale about a Runefaust warchest and its payroll guard which supposedly vanished in a thick mist while travelling through the Runefaust/Prompt borderlands.
As for stolen treasure, there is certainly a great deal of that around especially in the Empire but there is one tale which has more merit than most. During the Cypress invasion of Miniyom and Asreet there was rampant plundering among the troops. Supposedly a cabal of officers conspired to hide a horde of wealth taken from the ruined castles of the Asreet and Miniyom ruling families. The officers were all killed by the Cypressian Shining Force during the fighting of the second Shining War, and supposedly no one knows where they put the loot they stole. If you did find this treasure, the island kingdoms would expect you to return it to them.
"Like I said, not the most interesting treasures... Nothing like mysterious ruins and daring adventures, but maybe you've had better luck?" The Doctor asks hopefully.
Enrick glances reflexively at the notes inscribed on the paper.
: "You have no idea..." He replies after a moment of silence, laughing pensively.
He looks up from the text at the doctor.
: "Be that as it may, you never know until you take more than a look over there. You know, never judge a book to its cover. Something like that. Kinda waves off the feel of it." He stares back at the piece of paper, "Erm... Disregarding the obvious lack of worthy-looking choice these days... The cover of this one book shouldn't dissuade us from venturing this mysterious, and possibly exciting path, else we might miss on the surprises it holds in a dead angle." He winks and dips the note of paper into a pocket, "First of all, let's get the formalities outta the way. Are our valorous presumed members determined to follow their daring team leader into the unknown? Let's find out!"
After a moment, he asks.
: "Who is your champion?"
"I can't think of a better person for this kind of thing than old Langston." The Doctor says quietly, letting out a troubled sigh, "The only problem is that I, well, I can't seem to find him anywhere. He's not easy to miss either, running up walls and eating blocks of cheese the size of heifers..." He frowns, "I wonder... Well, he's an amazingly talented ratfolk and is among the best company one can have."
"Personality...can be more important than skill at times, least I think so, forunately my champion has both. Unfortunately, I have no idea where he happens to be."
Enrick frowns a little bit but his good mood prevails when he remembers what his announcement is about.
: "That is truly regretable indeed... Thankfully I have not one, but THREE chosen ones from amongst my dear friends that I think are best fit to the quality of treasure hunter! And if you don't feel this is nearly enough to replace The One Rat, you will once I tell you who they are, I'm certain! *smirk*"
"Ah, well then, it sounds like you've got everything under control..." The Doctor smiles, "Lead on then."
And then there was http://voxpvoxd.com/rustysfc/TheHuntBegins!.mp3
~~~~~~~
Thanks to Coventry's assumed initiative, it takes little time for the chosen ones to get together and all of them rally under Enrick's banner. The Doctor then teleports the group in the heart of Prompt. Thus Enrick, Coventry, Merkass, Gail and Faralon all arrive there in the middle of the afternoon.
~~~~~~~~
Having never visited this place, let alone the land of Rune, Enrick wanders the town idly to gauge the general tendency and fetch tidbits from the populace about the recent going-ons in the local area. For the most part, his questions revolve around the purpose of his visit, and the fancy noble doesn't hesitate to mention the piece of information that brought him here at the first place or spend a few gold pieces here and there when it is called for. Faralon joins Enrick in his endeavor, helping him to gain information, and using his own knowledge that he achieved through his many years of travel to help identify with any clues the people might give them.
------
"Treasure? Here? Well if there was, you can bet the King'd be after it! He's getting a wee bit desperate for funds to pay for the war. I betcha those Cult freaks would be hunting for it too if word got out!"
"The old warchest? Oh that's an old one! Yeah, the tales say it vanished somewhere in the middle of nowhere between Prompt and Runefaust... Mists just up and ate it! A bunch of people have tried to go looking for it, but they've never found anything. Well those that returned, anyway."
"Treasure hunting? Are you daft?! There's a war on! There'll be time for frivolity like treasure hunting when Prompt is safe and the Cult slain to the last man!"
"Well the story of that warchest was a popular one right after the war ended... Not so much now that another's begun. Lots of people went looking for it, and the general consensus seemed to be that it was deep in the forest between the two countries, around Mount Geisthalle. That mountain's got a spooky reputation as is, even without people disappearing around it."
"Lately the Cult has been attacking less and less, preferring to let their Demon Horde allies do the brunt of the work... That doesn't bode well for our city."
With enough information collected and a destination in mind, the group then set off to Mount Geisthalle on a mutual agreement.
The journey to the mountain promises to take at least three days of rough hiking and dodging the skirmishes and Cult patrols that frequently occur in the woods south of Prompt. What's more, teleportation cannot be used to speed the journey, thanks to the heavy Demon Horde and Cult presence in the woods. The only teleportation that would work in the woods would be that that took the caster back to the city, or another secured area. Though a daunting proposition for most, Enrick's band of treasure hunters have faced far worse in their time. They press on.
>>I'll need a series of five survival checks from the group at this point.<<
((Merkass makes 5 survival checks at 1d20+16.
21,27,34,32,33))
*Merkass hardly understood the necessity of this treasure hunt. Much of the world was still under the sway of the Strife Lords and their cult. Even still, he found himself needed by Enrick and the others, and he at least felt that he could trust Enrick in whatever schemes he might concoct.
The journey began simply enough, but the forest of Prompt had a scent unlike any other forest. Still damp and dark from the struggles long ago, and now that the world is in a darker place, it would only get worse. Merkass uses his surroundings to get some bearings, then a path through the forest, and sets off quickly, leading the others at what they might consider an uncomfortably fast pace.*
: This way! Quickly!
The Doctor easily follows a step behind the feline scout, apparently unphased by the swift pace and glancing around curiously as the group presses on, "So, what's this way?"
: "Adventure, my good friend." Enrick declares with the charismatic grin that hardly vanished from his face since they departed for this trip, "Adventure, and shinies!"
Gail keeps in step with the group's harried pace, marching close enough to stay with the scout's winding path through the forest and keeping her place as the rear guard. Here and there, she steals a glance into the foliage surrounding them, searching for the cause of Merkass's tense demeanor...then again, with the stories they heard, a swift march might have been the most appropriate thing to do.
Anthem paws his way beside the group, steely gray eyes darting into the treeline for signs of movement...of prey to hunt.
The group journeys deep into the woods, to an area where the trees are so thick the canopy blocks nearly all light from reaching the forest's floor. The tall evergreens seem endless in all directions, making navigation difficult, but the Ranger Merkass is able to guide the group nonetheless. It is on the third night, when camp must be made, that an odd tension permeates the area. A chill wind blows through the trees like the moan of some pained animal near death. The mountain is close by, the imposing peak visible even once in a while through a rare break in the treetops. You are near your goal, but that thought isn't comforting enough to keep out the chill.
: "I'd like to take part of the watch, tonight, if I could," Gail says after camp had been set. She gives the foreboding mountain a examining look before she turns back to her companions, smiling. "In fact, I don't think I'd able to sleep well tonight...perhaps everyone else should get a good night's sleep, and I'll watch through the night? That way, at least most of us will be rested when the morning comes."
Anthem gives her charge a furrowed glare...which looks surprisingly like his normal facial expression.
Gail stares at the griffon for a moment, then shakes her head. "Of course," she whispers to her mount, before turning to her companions. "Anthem seems to want to volunteer...does anyone else want to do so? Everyone will get the chance to sleep well, then, at least."
: "I have no problems staying up if I need to. Pity I won't really be able to practice playing my lute, though, as I wouldn't want to wake any of you. Plus, I need to keep alert, and my ears are better than my eyes."
: "Very well then."
Enrick's gaze shifts back to the woods lining the sinister mountain he'd been watching from when the group came to a halt. The noble scans the surroundings in search for a suitable spot to settle camp for the night.
: "Taking turns is the way to go. Lady Haubrekt, you and your valorous steed can have the first shift. Faralon or Merkass, be next up if you wish. Stay alert! First sign of fatigue, pass on the torch. You know how it's done. Ah, good work Merkass! This is where we're spending the night."
Anthem arches his back at the 'steed' comment, lifting his wings and leaning toward the flippant noble...but a glance from his master dispels his posturing, the griffon deciding to turn his back and curl up in a show of base disinterest.
He finally motions to an opening between nearby bushes looking on an area spaced out in such a way as to provide a natural shelter against the wind as well as decent concealment while leaving plenty enough room for a small camp such as theirs.
: "I and Merkass will go on scouting duty around Mount Geisthalle first thing tomorrow." Enrick resumes, "At dawn at the earliest if the night is clement."
He turns to Coventry with a weary smile.
: "We'll find this out in due time."
"It's not like some arcfiends are actively trying to destroy us..." The Doctor laughs, "We got all the time in the world."
And so the night unfolds... And Enrick's turn arrives to watch for interloppers.
Enrick stands on one side of the camp, back leaned against a tree and wary eyes set on the other ones. But as to be expected, the eventless minutes that flow render him a little less alert. Past those several minutes however, he can't help but feel the cold night weighting further on him, sending shivers down his spine. The swordsman rubs his hands to warm them up, to no avail. A chill runs down across his back and he shivers slightly, and somehow, nervvously. Thinking it due to the lack of movement, he begins to take a silent walk around the camp. But his legs in turn become somewhat numb and the feeling of oppression doesn't leave him.
An opaque mist begins to crawl in across the forest floor, slowly rising until it comes up to about waist height.
The noble stops and looks around with a frown, the tense atmosphere now more perceptible than before. His hand closes up on the hilt of his rapier before he withdraws it, although barely. An uncertain expression grows on his face.
"What's going on...?"
Enrick hears a pained moan from within the woods, close by. The sound causes images of death to spring up in the noble's mind, tempering his bravado with the knowledge of everyone's inevitable end.
"This is not right!"
Enrick manages to shrug off the state of desperate panic that the sound instilled. No sooner, he hurries back to the tents of his comrades to warn them.
"Quick, everyone! Something is coming our way!" He shouts out, opening the closest tent he comes by.
And so Enrick is greeted by a horrific sight! A terrible looking ghost, covered in its death wounds stand over Merkass, hands clutching the catman's throat.
"What? No way! Watch out!"
Enrick casts a spell, his rapier leaping straight into his hand as bright projectiles fly off to hit the macabre apparition.
((Cast Magic Missile on the ghost. 21 force damage.
Draw weapon. (free action)))
*While the others continue their way to the scene, Merkass begins his struggle with the vaporous undead. As it closes closer to them, he feels pangs of warning, anger, and utter wrong in his sleep. It does not stir him, however, and he simply turns in his sleep. Then comes the smell of burning. Fires of hell, brimstone, charred flesh, and all other scents that strike him as plain wrong awaken him and assault his nostrils. Merkass jolts his eyes open to see, hovering right above him, a ghost resting its hands around his throat and seeping away his life energies. He throws his arms up, disrupting its vapors, then rolls backward and stands up immediately. From there, he does a few back handsprings, readying the bow of Mitula as he goes.*
: WE HAVE GHOSTS! TO ARMS!
*Merkass draws the bow string, and even though his strength is drained, it feels no different than normal. He smirks, then snarls, and three arrows of crackling holy fire appear. He fires the trio of arrows at the unholy apparition, and they burn like miniature suns each their own. The arrows impact with expert accuracy, one piercing its incorporeal heart, one through the neck, and one between its hoary eyes. The arrows explode into even more brilliant holy light, greatly disrupting the ghost's form. Once the intense light fades away, so too does the apparition.*
((Merkass takes 4 STR drain.
Merkass stands from prone as a free action by passing a DC 35 tumble check. He then tumbles backward 30' at full speed and launches a manyshot at the ghost.
1d20 + 31 + 1 (PBS) - 6 (MS) = 20 + ...
CONFIRM (for burst): 1d20 + 26 = 16 + 26 = 42.
MISS CHANCE: 1d100 = 84.
DAMAGE
1d8 + 20 + 1 (PBS) + 1 (FE: Evil) + 2 (FE: Undead) + 4d6 (Rancor) + 1d6 (Nemesis) + 2d6 (Holy) + 2d10 (Holy Burst) = 2 + 1 + 4 + 6 + 5 + 4 + 1 + 3 + 8 + 6 + 23 = 63.
1d8 + 7d6 + 2d10 + 23 = 2 + 1 + 1 + 3 + 2 + 3 + 6 + 3 + 2 + 7 + 23 = 53.
1d8 + 7d6 + 2d10 + 23 = 5 + 2 + 5 + 6 + 6 + 6 + 6 + 3 + 4 + 3 + 23 = 69.
Grand total: 185 damage. ghost is ded, lol.))
"So much for a quiet night..."
Enrick sighs and walks to the catfolk's sides.
"Are you alright?"
Gail snaps awake when the alarm goes out, having only the time to snatch up her healing bracers, her holy symbol, and her armaments before bolting out of her tent to meet the new threat, still in the clothing she had worn that day. Even in her haste, though, she is too late to aid in driving off the ghost, only coming as Merkass climbed out of his tent. Noticing his labored motions, she moves closer to the scout, laying a palm on his shoulder that replaces his stolen strength. "How does that feel? Are you better?"
[Gail uses her Caduceus Bracers to restore Merkass's ability damage, which cost 20 points of LoH.]
*Merkass wrinkles his nose, and it twitches uncontrollably. The area is still not right. The stalker's eyes flitter about even as Enrick approaches and addresses him. No, this was far from over.*
: No, but I am fine. *Merkass sniffs again.* We are not alone. Look.
*Merkass points to three different locations within 30' of the nobleman and himself.*
: The ghosts are there, though they remain invisible.
((I FINALLY GOT TO USE NEMESIS))
Listening attentively to the stalker's assessment, Gail turns to the closest of the areas he pointed and calls upon her sacred sight, attempting to discern what Merkass saw through her own sense of evil, and if the spirits themselves were truly beings of malice.
Enrick slaps his forehead and runs his hand down his face with dissatisfaction.
"Oh dear... As if father wasn't enough. Why does it have to be ghosts? I've had it with ghosts these days!" He complains, turning back swiftly to face the outside of the tent, "No matter. Let's drive them off, shall we?"
Anthem stomps in circles, wings flared in a sign of defiance as he shrieks and roars. The guardian then shakes his head around wildly, wanting only to destroy the things threatening his charge, but being unable to do so.
Not really needing much in the way of sleep, the Doctor had spent most of the night awake despite the creepy surroundings. Sitting in the crook of a particularly twisted old tree, he glanced up from a book at the fancy noble's scream of terror and was on his feet a second later.
He glances at the holy knight and her massive guardian beast, arching an eyebrow wrily before looking away with a frown, "Well, that's just delightful..." He walks towards the noble and the catfolk, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
[M - 60 to beside Merkass and Lord Fluffy Pants]
"So, any idea who these misguided spirits are?" The Doctor asks as he slides his glasses on, "...and why they took such a shine to you, kitty?"
*Merkass shakes his head once, though he gives the doctor a curious look for his nonchalant walk toward them and his casual remarks.*
: No, I do not. *Merkass makes a gesture at one of the ghosts.* "I believe that one wonders what your snideness tastes like."
"Oh, so connoisseurs of mortal 'snideness', eh?" The Doctor rubs his chin thoughtfully, "I'm surprised that they didn't go after me first then." He tilts his head to the catfolk, peering at him over his glasses, "I mean, really, your 'snideness' is so bland and overpowering... I can't imagine how any spirit would find it even remotely palatable." He glances in the direction of the spirit, "Now, mine on the other hand, delightful." He smiles, "Only a hint of the spice of old angst, only a hint now - not enough to drown out the other elements. A healthy portion of intellect, tempered with equal meaures of wit, charm, and vulgrity. Some, but not too much, self-importance. Finally, to top it all off, just a dash of divinity to give it all some integrity." He kisses the tips of his fingers, "Perfecto..."
"Ah,I know!" He claps his hands together, "It's the self-abasement!" He frowns thoughtfully, "I should have balanced it out more with the self-importance... Gwah."
"And that's why you're the best healer ever." Enrick comments with a smirk, "Now, shall we greet our unexpected guests properly?" He adds, gesturing at the unexpected guests properly.
"How rude to make them wait so... Really, they don't have eternity. *chuckle*"
Gail detects evil in the area.
Merkass notes currents in the fog blanket and comes to the conclusion that something is moving underneath them...
Both Merkass and the Doctor feel icy cold suddenly wash through their bodies as something immaterial grabs their legs. The moans of hungry ghosts echoes through the wood...
((All hit. Merkass takes 4 points of Str damage. Coventry takes a total of 5.))
The Doctor trembles under the assault, dropping to a knee weakly and running a hand along the ground as if attempting to brush aside some ants. His unsteady hand strikes nothing and for a moment it looks as if he might fully collapse, his face draining of color. He gasps out something under his breath…then pulls himself to his feet and staggers a short distance away.
*Faralon begins to sing, seeing the threat of the incorporeal attackers.*
((Bardic music used, coupled with my special. For 3 rounds, everyone gains a +10 morale bonus to attack, damage, and saves vs. charm and fear. After that, if I don't bump it up again, it'll drop down to 5 for the aforementioned bonuses.))
: "Don't lose heart, everyone! The dead shan't rise again tonight!"
Enrick intones a song of praise to the living, straightening up bravely to face evil. The agile swordsman turns around swiftly to the ghost that manifested to attack Merkass and leaps at it in retaliation, landing blow after blow with his rapier expertly. Although only one actually connects, the thrust ignites the spirit's ethereal form as Enrick taunts.
: "How cold! Getting under our skin like that. This just cast a chill on our newborn relationship!"
((Use up 2 charges of Circlet of Rapid Casting. (swift action)
Cast Elation.
Everyone gains +2 STR, +2 DEX and +10' movement.
Activate Quip "Ooh Burn!".
This attack will deal additional fire damage.
Full attack on the ghost.
Miss chance : 1 23 94. One hit.
Melee attack : 1d20 +3 (BAB) +6 (DEX) +9 (CHA) +1 (Weapon) + 10 (Music) = 16 + 29 = 45.
Damage : 1d6+1 (Weapon) +1d6 (Ooh Burn!)+9 (CHA) +3 (INT) + 10 (Music) = 4 + 5 fire + 22 = 31 damage.
Dodge to this ghost.
Bardic Music very welcome.))
*Merkass had just begun feeling better from Gail's healing when he felt his strength sapped once more by the ghost's chill touch. Enrick's elated praise grants more bounce to the ranger's already springy stride, and he quickly flips backward, somersaulting and twisting all the way to distance himself. Once suitably far enough away, Merkass fires 4 arrows in rapid succession, alternating between the ghost that had hit him and the ghost Enrick was assailing. He fires the most spiteful arrow first, connecting in a way painful to the living with the ghost that had drained his life force from him. Then a second arrow flies, connecting straight through Enrick's ghost's forehead, erupting into fireworks. The third is fired again at that ghost, but passes harmlessly through its gaseous body, and the final one again impacts the first.*
: I believe they find you appetizing, Doctor.
((Tumble automatically succeeds to move 30' away. Skirmish kicks in for +1 AC.
Full Attack, Rapid Shot.
1d20 + 32 + 1 (El) + 1 (PBS) - 2 (RS) + 10 (Music) = 5 + 42 = 47.
MISS: 1d100 = 75.
1d20 + 42 = 20...
CONFIRM: 1d20 + 42 = 11 + 42 = 53.
MISS: 1d100 = 57.
1d20 + 37 = 13 + 37 = 50.
MISS: 1d100 = 19.
1d20 + 32 = 12 + 32 = 44.
MISS: 1d100 = 100.
DAMAGE
1d8 + 24 + 7d6 = 4 + 1 + 1 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 2 + 4 + 24 + 10 = 58. Merkass' ghost.
1d8 + 24 + 3d6 + 2d10 = 7 + 5 + 3 + 4 + 6 + 9 + 24 + 10 = 68. Enrick's ghost.
1d8 + 24 + 3d6 = 5 + 6 + 1 + 4 + 24 + 10 = 50. Merkass' ghost.))
Gail, seeing the Doctor crumble so easily under the spirit's life draining touch, levels a glare against the lost soul before taking her holy symbol in hand. Holding the chain above her head and chanting a prayer, the gold star hanging below erupts into flickering white flame, holy power struggling to come to life. After a moment, the fire stabilizes and strengthens, divine radiance reaching across the area to strike the malevolent dead.
[Turning Check: 1d20(1)+9(turning level)+8(Cha modifier)-10(natural 1)=8.
Affects up to 11 HD undead.
Turning Damage: 2d6(9)+9(turning level)+8(Cha modifier)= 26 HD worth of undead turned.]
Enrick charges forward to where Merkass had pointed out one of the ghosts earlier only to find that the spirit had since moved from that spot.
Merkass' arrows each destroy one of the lesser ghosts, but the last one remaining is apparently a potent spirit indeed, the final ghost shaking off both Merkass' attack and Gail's holy radiance. The greedy spirit moves under the fog, unseen once more, and Merkass again feels his strength begin to wane.
((Hit. 3 Str damage to Merkass.))
“So it seems…” The Doctor chuckles, some of the color returning to his face at the wave of good cheer, “But you remain the course of choice, how remarkable, that you would be a richer fare of snide than me.”
[The Doctor begins casting Lesser Restoration on himself.]
Watching as the life continued to be drained from Merkass convinced Gail of the continued existence of their spectral assailants, and she once again channels divine energy into the golden star in her grasp. The white fire returns, this time taking a far stronger hold than before, and blinding light flares out, a ring of divine energy far more potent than the last attempt bearing down on the remaining lost soul.
[Turning check: 1d20(2)+9(turning level)+8(Cha modifier)=19.
Turning can affect up to 15 HD undead.
Turning Damage: 2d6(4)+9(turning level)+8(Cha modifier)=21 HD worth of undead affected.]
The ghost hisses and retreats, vanishing once more into the fog.
((Battle over. 800 XP.))
*Merkass' eyes narrow at the undead that persists in draining his life force. He stands silent now, no longer caring to banter with Coventry. This ghost would be resent to the afterlife. That much he could assure, and no undead would stop him. Merkass makes another expert move of agility, curtailing the apparition's grasp. He then prepares to fire another trio of arrows, but before doing so, makes one attempt at saving the ghost's soul.*
: Why do you yet linger?
((Ok, so apparently Merkass "passed a check" of which I had no knowledge (ie: It's not in any of my logs) and he knows something that I don't. TUM has some 'splainin' to do. Also, fyi I will probably be hard to get a hold of, so apologies in advance. Highlight after this for my held action.
Merkass moves 30' away with tumbling. Going to give the ghost a chance to respond. If it either does not answer him, gives him an unhelpful answer, or moves aggressively toward him, Merkass is going to shoot him a la manyshot.
1d20 + 43 - 6 = 7 + 37 = 44.
MISS: 1d100 = 54.
1d8 + 7d6 + 34 = 2 + 3 + 5 + 5 + 2 + 3 + 2 + 6 + 34 = 62.
1d8 + 7d6 + 34 = 1 + 5 + 3 + 6 + 3 + 4 + 4 + 6 + 34 = 66.
1d8 + 7d6 + 34 = 8 + 4 + 2 + 1 + 2 + 6 + 2 + 5 + 34 = 64.))
Enrick, whose player failed to note the presence of the waist high fog that concealed the exact location of each ghost after their attack, lunges forward thrice at the greater ghost once he is aware of its exact location within the waist high fog thanks to Merkass' well aimed shot of nemesis.
((Full attack ghost that Merkass attacked (when it happens that is) to make sure that I can see where it is this time around.
Miss chance : 74 66 74. Three hits.
Melee attacks : 3d20 (rolls: 3, 16 and 12) +BAB (13/8/3) +5 (DEX) +9 (CHA) +1 (Weapon) +10 (Music)
Results : 41, 49, 40.
Damage : 1d6+1 (Weapon) +9 (CHA) +3 (INT) +10 (Music)
Results : 26, 27, 26 damage.))
((Passed Spot check: "Merkass notes currents in the fog blanket and comes to the conclusion that something is moving underneath them..." Also, why are you talking/fighting with something that isn't there?))
((Because we failed to pick up the words of victory that crept underneath the fog.))
After the last, but not least, ghost withdraws from battle, Enrick sheathes his rapier and looks around, sniffing the air.
: "Merkass, is there something strange in the neighborhood?"
With the final ghost retreating, Gail returns the holy symbol to its proper place, hoping she wouldn't need to use it again tonight. The knight errant gives a worried glance to the Doctor...and sighs in relief when she sees his vitality has returned, back to exchanging verbal blows with the otherwise-involved hunter. Her gaze then shifts back to the others to notice Merkass's drained state, and Gail once again uses the power of her faith to cure the scout's condition.
[Use 35 points of Lay on Hands to remove 7 points of Strength damage.]
[Two rounds later, assuming we're done round by round actions, Coventry recovers 3 STR.]
What pitiful strength he possesses returning in the slightest as he completes his spell, the Doctor watches silently as the Holy Knight once again pours out sacred power to restore the snide sniper. A sour frown crosses his face as he brushes off his coat and glances around the spooky surroundings, "How rude for them to come calling and then depart without a word…" He pulls a bag from his side and withdraws a handful of marbles, fingering them thoughtfully for a moment, "Well, snide sniper, are we continuing on to the second course or has enough transpired this night?"
Waiting for a reply from the scout, Gail looks into the direction the ghost retreated, once again calling upon her ability to detect the presense of evil. "I can't feel the spirit's presense nearby...it must have fled further in." The knight errant gives a sideways glance to the Doctor, then the scout, and sighs. "Even if Merkass can trace where it's gone, I think we shouldn't pursue it...We don't what else resides here, but we know there are threats. We can put more of us on watch, to help repel any more attacks, and..." Gail stops, looking to the fog gliding around them before tugging at her holy symbol again, this time causing light to slip forth. When the mist refuses to take the hint, she frowns, and the light fades away. "Perhaps we should find some way to disperse the fog?"
: "A sensible call, milady. Anyone who can muster the ressources to carry it out, you're welcome to try." Enrick answers, running a light hand along the surface of the fog, "Maybe then we can go so far as to repel those damned spirits for the remainder of the night."
His gaze then sets back on the treetops through which lies the black mass that is the top of Mount Geisthalle. The noble watches the dark peak silently, ominously... Until a thought occurs to him : he's not really the sensible kind and this trait often paid off.
: "Who is up for a nighly escapade?" He inquires without turning his eyes away, a thin grin forming.
((*sigh* Post due to incessant bitching.))
*Merkass weathers Coventry's comment with not a blink, turn, nod, but simply tacet. Merkass is unsure as to the group's ability to continue without rest, but he was certainly up for it.*
: I can continue, but I cannot speak for the others. Weariness requires rest, *And so he finally looks at the doctor.*
: "I believe we should get as much rest as we can. It'd be safer if we're all more alert, and we have no idea what else is waiting for us...If everyone else is set on moving forward, though, I would be prepared for it, save the time it would take for me to arm myself." She pauses, pondering what else to say. "If anyone is weak from exhaustion, I would be able to abate its effects...for the journey, if nothing more."
: "Continuing would be fine with me. I haven't exactly exhausted myself or anything, and I do have a few tricks up my sleeves. I'm okay with staying too, but I understand if you want to travel when it's lighter. It IS rather difficult to see."
"Why not, chasing after ghosts in the middle of the night..." The Doctor nods, "I'm game."
The dashing swordsman joins his hands and faces the group.
: "Since we all wholly agree... We are off to see the dark expanse of these caves and probably pay our gaseous friends a casual visit! Keep your ears and eyes open for more night stalkers and don't trip on the way : this mist is most unsufferable."
They prepared and proceeded to the mountain.
((Due to not getting a full night's sleep, no spells have been restored.))
The towering peak of Mt. Geisthalle looms over you as you burst forth from the treeline after strenuous hours of hiking. Dawn has just broken, a dull line of light playing over the horizon, obscured by the thick stormclouds forming overhead. A dull rumble sounds in the distance, and the mists are still present.
Merkass suddenly is struck by two scents. A powerful stench of evil further up the mountainside, and approaching the group several far smaller smells from the direction of the forest.
*Merkass blinks once out into the light of day once more. It is, however, obscured by the roiling storm clouds above, and instead seems far greyer and darker than he would like. The pungent odor of evil seeps into his nostrils, and he notes the strength of one of the odors to be exceptional.
: We're not alone.
*Merkass points toward the directions of the scent, and as he has their directions, Merkass looks for a nearby tree or other perch in which to climb to get a better vantage point on the situation and check if he can see the source of the assaulting stench. As an after thought, he notes the clouds and wonders just how natural they are. This area is plagued by some infernal evil, and he was unsure as to how much of the landscape was natural, and how much was due to the presence of evil.*
((Since we're just out of the forest, I'd imagine there's a smattering of trees here and there. Merkass will quickly climb one, then look out in each direction to try to discern exactly where the evil is. Since Nemesis didn't ping, Merkass deduces they're over 60' away. Also, Merkass would have checked for any tracks once out of the forest.
Search: 13 + 17 + 2 = 32.
Climb: 1d20 + 10 = 13 + 10 = 23.
Spot 1: 1d20 + 18 + 1 = 14 + 19 = 33. (Add 2 if undead).
Spot 2: 1d20 + 19 = 11 + 19 = 30. (Add 2 if undead).
Survival: 1d20 + 16 = 10 + 16 = 26. (Add 1 if due to evil, add 2 if due to undead, add 3 if due to evil undead).
Merkass moves away from his companions, climbing one of the trees a short walk away nearer the treeline. He climbs up and looks around, unable to see anything in the clearing or within the trees for quite some distance.
Enrick and Doctor Coventry suddenly feel icy cold shoot through their legs as something ethereal brushes up against them.
((2 Str damage, Enrick and Doctor Coventry.))
Barely having the time to keep watch on the beings pointed out by the scout, Gail pulls her holy symbol over her head in response to the attack, praying like she had before. The divine energy that pours forth is a blinding beacon of the Light's power, towering over the misguided spirits bound to their past lives. The fires of heaven are barely contained by the holy symbol itself, surging and twisting like a newly caged tiger beholding a feast when it tries to lash out at the once-human souls.
[Turning Roll: 1d20(17)+9(turning level)+13(CHA)=39.
Turning attempt affects undead up to 16 HD.
Turning damage: 2d6(11)+9(turning level)+13(CHA)=33 HD worth of undead.]
Four shrieks and four columns of light explode amidst the fog as Gail reduces four spirits lurking therein to ash. Merkass notes that the smell from that direction has decreased notably, but is still present.
*Having seen nothing from his foliaged vantage point, and having been unable to act on the ghosts before Gail swiftly dispatched the ghosts, Merkass leaps from the tree toward his allies once more, and rolls along the ground one turn before coming to his feet quickly with not a blade of grass or hay clinging to his black flight suit.*
: We are still followed by ghosts. Be on guard. *Merkass readies his bow, fingers resting on the bow string to release arrows at a moment's notice.*
((Nemesis and scent still in effect.))
: "I can't promise you anything..." Enrick replies sarcastically, rubbing his knees under the fog, weakened some after another surprise attack from the ghosts, "It would seem hard to keep my word when the only sense that could be of help to avoid being caught off-guard is hindered by-oh that's it!"
With sudden enlightment, the swordsman wills his rapier into his hand and snaps his fingers with the other. He suddenly vanishes from sight.
((Draw weapon. Cast Invisibility.))
*Upon approaching a mere 20' toward his allies, Merkass suddenly notes the presence and location of a number of spiritual, undead entities.*
: Behind you, more spirits! *Merkass points quickly toward them, indicating their locations to everyone else, then readies for another short skirmish.*
((Merkass stops 60' away from the new ghosts, who are twenty feet away from the others.))
Seconds after, Doctor Coventry feels a hand tapping his left shoulder. His form, too, merges with the grim scenery.
((Use up 2 charges of Belt of Battles to gain a standard action. (swift action)
Move next to Coventry. Cast Invisibility.))
Gail turns to where Coventry and Enrick had been moments before, and finds them gone, hidden by the treasure hunter's illusion. Noting that she was the main target of the approaching souls, Gail retreats back, waiting for them to strike.
[Move 20' away from the spirits.]
Anthem takes to the air, knowing that he could do nothing against the assembled dead.
*Faralon furrows his brow, not happy at all about their ghostly followers. He begins his song again, staying on guard.*
((Bardic music: +5 morale bonus to attack and weapon damage, +5 morale bonus to saves vs. charm and fear))
Icy cold shoots through Faralon as ghostly hands touch his legs. Merkass dodges aside a mist-like tendril himself.
((Hit, Crit, Miss. 6 Str damage to Faralon.))
Gail runs to the bard's aid, pouring divine energy into her holy symbol once more.
[Move to Faralon, turn undead.
Turning level check: 1d20(1)+9(level)+13(CHA)-10=14.
Affects 13 HD undead.
Turning damage: 2d6(11)+9(level)+13(CHA)=33 HD worth of undead.]
Three more columns of light pierce through the fog, and Merkass notes the lesser stench vanishes.
The wind still carries the greater evil from further up the mountain, though...
Once the last ghosts are sent back into oblivion, Enrick's voice arises sonorous from a spot near Faralon even as this one can feel the treasure hunter's hand giving him an energic tap in the back. The bard elf, in turn, disappears without warning.
"Let's proceed under cover, shall we?"
((Invisibility cast on Faralon. If Gail (and Anthem if needed) and Merkass accept, it will be cast on them as well. The spell lasts 10 minutes which hopefully is enough to get somewhere at this point.))
*Merkass senses the presence of an invisible, yet non-malicious presence behind him. Believing that it might be Enrick, Merkass silently waves him off.*
: Watch and follow.
*Merkass crouches, then slinks down, moving quickly through the low-lying fog. While moving carefully for him, he easily moves as quickly as any of the others even while remaining as stealthy as possible. Unseen, unheard, and unobserved by any but his allies, Merkass makes his way through the fog toward the source of the great evil before them.*
((Merkass takes a page out of Swamp Fox's book and moves under the cover of the fog. The others go invisible while he remains normally visible, albeit hidden. The others, having known his location before he began hiding and being close should be able to follow him. Anything else will have to try to spot him.
Merkass does not leave tracks thanks to Scout.
Hide: 1d20 + 22 = 14 + 22 = 36.
MS: 1d20 + 27 = 20 + 27 + 10 = 57.
Merkass moves as though he has a speed of 25', which changes nothing, since the others are held up by Gail.))
Merkass doesn't have much chance to use his tactic, as the fog begins to thin and vanish the further up the mountain the group gets, the smell leading the catfolk up. Indeed, the mountain climb takes a good two hours, the smell of evil growing stronger and stronger to Merkass' nostrils, before at last the group reaches a yawning cave mouth set in the side of the mountain. The forest stretches out beneath them, the party now hundreds of feet above sea level, and a bitter wind lashes them mercilessly.
((Make Constitution checks, please.))
Gail uses the climb up to restore the strength of her allies. Later, after the climb, she goes about the task of raising their flagging awareness and energy.
[10[Enrick, 2 Str damage]+20[Coventry, 4 Str damage]+30[Faralon, 6 Str damage]+20[4 cases of exhaustion]=110 LAy on hands. Gail is out for this day and the next.]
((What for? Some of us have immunities... Well, not me. ))
The Doctor shivers at the cold wind, glancing from the cave mouth to the forest below.
[Fort: 8 + 8 = 16 ]
((Constitution checks, not Fort saves. This is to test for exhaustion, it was a strenous climb. The Doctor fails and takes a -2 penalty to any physical activity for an hour.))
Following Merkass all along, Enrick arrives in front of the cave a tired yet blustering grin on his face.
: "Looks like we've made it."
((Enrick CON check : 16 (1d20) +2 (CON) = 18.))
((Faralon's CON check: 17 + 2 (CON) = 19.))
*Faralon responds, breathing somewhat heavily.*
: "Great. I don't know how much more climbing I could stand."
*Merkass looks back at the others, no sweat visible through his furred face.*
: We are very close and cannot stop. Come.
*Merkass makes his way off into the cavern, still being as quite and discrete as possible. As he goes, he keeps a lookout for anything particularly suspicious.*
((Merkass continues hiding and moving silently while performing his NORMAL SCOUTLY DUTIES.
Hide: 1d20 + 22 = 2 + 22 = 24.
MS: 1d20 + 27 = 12 + 27 = 39.))
*The cavern begins to get fairly dark, and soon, ahead there is no light at all. Faralon whispers to the others, in case they cannot see him.*
: "Troubling...everyone, come here. I can let us all see."
*When the others gather near, Faralon casts a spell, letting everyone see even the darkest portions of the cave clearly.*
((Limited Wish used. -300 XP. Casting Mass Darkvision.))
As the group can see fine in the dark now, they continue inward, coming to a large cave chamber with a passage leading even deeper into the mountain at the end. Bodies are piled around the chamber, about thirty to forty of them. Some of them look relatively recent, only a few days dead, while others are merely skeletons in scraps of cloth or rusted armor. A thin mist covers the floor of this cavern and it's very cold.
: "Warm and welcoming aren't we?" Enrick notes, shaking a little because of the abysmal temperature in there, "Well, this has to be the antechamber. However I have no intention to wait for the owners to manifest and show us the way in, or out... They don't seem in the sort of mood for a reception." He finishes, gesturing at the bodies littering the place with a shrug, "Maybe if we ask them nicely they will concede you a guest bedroom, Doctor, but you don't want that. *chuckle*"
He proceeds a little ahead, looking around curiously as he walks slowly towards the other end.
: "I wonder if they keep feral watchdogs down here... Father had some obscure breed held in the dungeon and he released them on intruders occasionally. The ones that failed to escape. Nothing very savoury..."
He keeps advancing, wary of his surroundings despite the complete absence of light.
: "Merkass, are your hunter senses tingling?" He questions without giving a look back, moving further ahead while observing in turn the ground and the walls.
((Whether something happens or not, Enrick stops nearly halfway through. He watches for anything out of the ordinary as he goes. If he or Merkass find anything "off" during that time, he withdraws immediately.
Listen: 10 (d20) +5 = 15
Search: 19 (d20) +5 = 24
Spot: 18 (d20) +5 = 23))
*The first time or two, Merkass simply moved ahead a bit and slinked to the side as Enrick began chatting. Then, Enrick went and used Merkass' actual name to address him while continuing to blabber. Angrily, Merkass looks back to Enrick and the others with a snarl and nostrils flared. He runs his finger along his throat, then quickly runs it across his lip to indicate that they should be quiet lest something picks up on their presence. He gives a second to watch them and make sure no one says anything, then turns back to sneaking through the cavern once more. So far, he detected nothing closeby, though the smell continued to increase in strength. He just hoped his allies would realize that if he found their quarry, he would indicate it to them.
Sometimes, Merkass missed his clan.*
The tunnel goes on for a few minutes, the occasional corpse lying against the wall. The tunnel widens in an antechamber before continuing on further, and it is as the group enters this small chamber that the fine mist covering the ground rises up and coalesces into a humanoid, translucent form. A man, clad in rusted and torn armor, the wounds of his death still visible upon him, looks at you mournfully. The ghost makes no move to attack, merely staring at you.
"Nice place you have here..." The Doctor comments, glancing around the antechamber appraisingly, "Though, that hike certainly was something..." He lets out a tired breathe, "Wow..."
"Anyway, as luck would have it..." The Doctor smiles, "We're looking for some old warchest that was lost here some time ago, have you heard tale of it?" He thumbs back over his shoulder, "Oh...and what's up with all those corpses?"
: "Told you they weren't in the mood... All out of shape." Enrick states with a sigh, staring at the apparition expectantly.
"The bodies..." the ghost whispers. "All those slain by the stalker of the mists... All those bound to this mountain and the creature that rules it. Beware..."
The ghost shakes his head slowly. "Whether the mists brought the thing here, or the thing brought the mists, who can say? Man, woman or child... Soldier, farmer, or saint... It makes no difference to that mass of tentacles and teeth... It knows you are coming. This is its mountain. It knows you trespass on its land... and soon you'll be like me. Turn back now... before it's too late."

Posted by: Cyrus Tue Mar 18, 2008 4:26 am
*Merkass walks out from his hidden vantage point, silent once the ghost begins to form, and stewing once his allies callously begin to speak lightly of this apparition and the bodies littering the floor around it. Given half a chance, Merkass would end its tainted existence and send it forevermore to the planes of the afterlife. However, this ghost had information, and it was so far not malevolent. The blood of his clan would be avenged yet, though for now there was more at stake. His bow at his side, Merkass addresses the ghost, speaking none too loudly and with an underlying rumble of hatred for this haven of undead.*
: Tell me what lurks in this cave and is the death of so many. How can you be sent from this world to the rest you deserve?
"A creature from another realm..." the ghost whispers. "Some distant and lightless plane that has never known the touch of a caring deity. Some place of madness and insanity is the only home this thing must've spawned from. If it dies, perhaps we can rest..."
: Does it have a weakness? How does it attack? Tell me so that it will be sent from this place.
"It grabs you with its tentacles... then it devours you. Or it eats a little bit and throws you down. Or it chews and spits you out," the ghost says, quietly. "Either way, you'll be dead."
"Not if we flail it dead first." Enrick retorts, folding his arms assuredly, "Always willing to rid the world of evil, gross... things. It's been a full time job lately. How would this be any different? It's not like we have a great deal of choice at this point. As someone once said, 'The greatest evil is apathy, for it perpetuates all others.' We can't just turn away and leave this one lurk unattended, can we?"
*Merkass sneers at the ghost's assurances that this creature would be the end of them. He crosses his arms, then spits his own assurances back at the undead.*
: I fear no servant of evil. If it stands against us, then it will stand no more.
*Merkass begins to walk past the ghost.*
Merkass, and assumably the others, continue on. The tunnel has another five minutes of walking before opening to a huge cavern, corpses scattered around... Including, Gail sees, four centaurs in armor with the Runefaust coat of arms emblazoned on it. An iron-bound chest lies in between them. Nothing else appears to be in the room, though other treasures seem to be scattered around as well.
Suddenly, with the sound of moving air, a tentacle hangs down from the ceiling and grabs Merkass in its slimy hold. A horrid mass of tentacles, muscle, and mucus drops from the ceiling into the middle of the group. Bulbous and uneven, the thing resembles a large brain fixed with two, dead, soulless eyes. Great wings stretch from its back, and two even larger tentacles writhe in the front. A huge beak within the mass of tentacles extends and emits an ear-piercing, otherworldly shriek before biting into Merkass' side.
((Surpise round: Hit. Merkass takes 36 damage and is grappled. Bite attack: 25 damage to Merkass for free since he's grappled. Normal rounds begin. Initiative: 24.))
The Malformed Beast: http://gh.ffshrine.org/song/1256/29
Enrick springs back before the alien creature hits the ground and he rolls aside, landing safely. Back on his feet in no time, the swordsman's features tense when he realises what happened to his ranger friend.
"Merkass!... Oh good heaven."
He levels his rapier in a battle stance.
((Enrick Initiative: 17.
Also for reference
HP: 114/114
AC: 23 +9.
SR: 20))
((Faralon's init: 13. He's also making a BK check. Total: 37.))
((Merkass gets a 17. He'll go before Enrick, since Merkass' DEX is higher. Merkass has SR 22 and DR 7/- as far as the Moonlord is concerned.))
((Init roll for Gail and Coventry are 14 and 14, which still shouldn't beat 24.))
((Well, actually... The Doctor is the only character in the history of SFCW to have the Improved Initiative feat, it came free with the Time domain. So, his mod is +10. Never thought it would be of any use though.))
Another long tentacle swipes at Enrick, but he dodges aside at the last, dramatic moment. Two shorter tentacles ensnare Faralon, dragging the elf to its maw and chomping down, tastying the fey flesh. Two more tentacles flail at the Doctor, but he nimbly evades one, while they slap uselessly against Gail's laconia plate. The final tentacle strikes Coventry, binding him fast and lifting him to the creature's maw where the beaked maw opens in anticipation. Meanwhile, the tentacle around Merkass continues to squeeze, cruelly crushing the catfolk.
((Miss. Hit. Faralon takes 21 damage and is grappled. Bite! Faralon takes 27 damage from the bite. Hit! 15 damage to Faralon. Miss, Miss. Moonlord takes 5 damage from coming into contact with Gail's armor. Miss, Hit! Coventry takes 27 damage and is grappled. Merkass suffers 37 points of damage.))[/color]
*Merkass is taken completely by surprise, which is shocking considering the thing's size. For all his attempts to move out of the way, the creature snares him in its tentacle and drags him up and begins biting into him. Faint sparkles react to the creature's maw closing on him, protecting him from some harm. They also react to the thing squeezing the life out of Merkass, lessening the pain. Merkass struggles, trying to reach for his dagger to cut his way out, but to no success. He presses against the moonlord's undulating tentacle, and suddenly it writhes. A second shove, and Merkass quickly slips from it, landing on the ground once more. He rolls as he makes contact, then continues with a somersault and run at full speed, moving away from the moonlord and prepares his counterattack.*
((Grapple checks to escape (3):
1d20 + 17 = 5 + 17 = 22. Fail.
1d20 + 17 = 20 + ... SUCCESS.
If there's a fail involved, Merkass easily lessens the falling distance to 0.
Merkass will tumble away at full speed.
1d20 + 30 = 13 + 30 = 43. Success.
Move 50' away from the Moonlord.))
"This shouldn't become a habit!" Enrick spouts, raising his free hand swiftly. The tabard he wears emits a flash of light, hints of the dazzling green radiance remaining even after the magical item has been activated in the heart of darkness, "Here, let's see how you fare after losing a tentacle or two!"
The agile adventurer leaps off the cave ground and lunges at the tentacle that holds Coventry immobile, then repeats the move at its gross mass, the fire of his wit liting the blade of his weapon as it digs into the abomination's flesh.
((Use Tabard of Awesome. (free action)
Fly cast. Lasts 5 minutes.
Ascend 5'. Move up to the Moonlord.
Tumble: 32.
Stab the Moonlord.
First attack: Use Quip "Ooh Burn!"
This attack will deal 1d6 fire damage.
Last attack: Use Quip "Just Quit!"
Will DC 26 or take a -3 penatly on attack rolls against the user. Duration 3 rounds.
Melee: 7/4/16 (3d20) +13/8/3 (BAB) +5 (DEX) +9 (CHA) +1 (Weapon)
Results: 35, 27, 36.
Damage: 1d6+1 (Weapon) +9 (CHA) +3 (INT)
Results: 19 +3 fire, 18, 18.
Dodge to the Moonlord.))
Gail wastes no time in her reaction, breathing a prayer while her wrists flicks like one moving a knight in a game of chess. The knight errant then blinks out of existence, reappearing next to the foul aberration, and her sword flashes with divine guidance and power, each stroke tearing into the impossible flesh of the offworldly fiend.
[Knight's Move to move 15' as a swift action, FA the Moonlord. Divine Might, Smite, you know the drill.
Attack roll 1: 1d20(16)+13(BAB)+6(STR)+13(Smite)+5(weapon)=53.
Damage: 1d10(6)+6(STR)+5(weapon)+13(Might)+13(Smite)=43.
Attack roll 2: 1d20(3)+8(BAB)+6(STR)+13(Smite)+5(weapon)=35.
Damage: 1d10(2)+6(STR)+5(weapon)+13(Might)+13(Smite)=39.
Attack roll 3: 1d20(16)+3(BAB)+6(STR)+13(Smite)+5(weapon)=43.
Damage: 1d10(6)+6(STR)+5(weapon)+13(Might)+13(Smite)=43.
HP: 218/218.
AC: 36.]
Faralon sings, the power of his voice causing courage to stir in the hearts of his comrades.
((BM+special. +10 to all, blah blah. Rusty can retake this action if he likes, but that's normally what he opens with, so to move this forward I'll assume this is what he does.))
[color=black]The Doctor clicks his heels together and vanishes from the monster's grasp, reappearing well out of its reach. He snaps a finger at Merkass.
[Close Wounds: +7 HP : Merkass]
[Healing Kicker Aid: +13 Temp HP, etc, etc]
((Boots of Teleportion used. Doc is now 70' away from the monster, 20' near Merkass. Kai, I can't recall if you have Quicken, so I'll leave this open for your edit.))
((Quicken doesn't work for spontaneous casters, sadly, so no. ))
((As a final note, were you aiming for a tentacle or was that just flavor text, LO? It's a specific action to target a body part and has different rules.))
The creature's immense tentacles lash out and wrap around Enrick, drawing it to the Moonlord's mouth where it bites into it with gusto. Another sinuous tendril wraps around Gail's waist, lifting her into the air and hurling her towards the aberration's maw as well. The holy maiden suffers a wound as the beak bites through her armor to tear flesh. The creature's massive two main tentacles shoot across the room to recapture the catfolk that had just escaped. The twin tentacles sink cruel barbs into Merkass as they return him to the maw for another bite.
((Hit, Miss. Hit. Miss, Hit. Bite! Bite! 66 damage to Enrick total (over 3 attacks), Enrick is grappled. 46 damage to Gail total (over 3 attacks), Gail is grappled. One tentacle busy with Faralon. 2 damage to Moonlord from Gail's armor. Hit, Hit. Bite! 101 damage to Merkass over 3 attacks. Merkass is grappled. Faralon takes 18 damage from being grappled.))
Next turn.
Enrick backflips at the ferocious slam, finding himself upside down and prisoner of the creature's unerringly constrictive embrace. He grunts and wiggles painfully even as he's bitten into.
"Ugh! C-Coventry, drop a heal our way! Doctor! Coventry! Where is the doc-"
His gaze meets not the one whose help he sought, but most of his comrades who suffered the same fate. The swordsman realises then that the Doctor has managed to slip out of the alien's grasp.
"Hold on!" The Doctor calls back, even as he starts towards the conflict, adding under his breath, "Not that you really have much of a choice in that..." He whispers words of power while making symbols in his hands, taking a few steps forward and unleashing a surge of restorative energy.
[M - 20 feet forward]
[Cure Critical Wounds: +50 HP : Everyone save Coventry.]
[Healing Kicker(Aid): +13 Temp HP, etc, etc]
The Doctor then rolls back with and comes back to his feet in a smooth motion, watching the ongoing battle with a worried frown.
[Mobile Spellcasting]
[M - 20 feet backward]
*Merkass began to feel as though this would be it. He had underestimated this creature and was paying for it possibly with his life. He would not let it be so, however. His body continues to withstand the assaults laid on him by the creature, and the Doctor's healing keeps him beyond the threshold of death. Gallantly, he struggles against the Moonlord's grasp once more, and again he manages to wriggle his way free. Once more he wriggles free of the tentacles squeezing the life out of him, and again he flees from its reach. However, this time he has a surprise for it. His eyes narrow at the dark, writhing mass of tendrils, and time begins to slow for him. Every movement, ever undulation, every air current around him, he is able to sense them all. He waits for its next strike at him, knowing he could avoid it this time.*
((Grapple to break free:
1d20 + 27 = 18 + 27 = 45 versus 44! Success!))[/url]
Merkass tumbles at full speed (1d20 + 30 = 16 + 30 = 46) to 55' away from the Moonlord (start 5' away, then 50' move).
Merkass activates Sense! For 1 round, all attacks against him miss and all attacks he makes hit!))
Feeling a new surge of vigor as most of his wounds seal, Enrick's mouth twists into a hateful rictus at the so-called Moonlord.
"Attached to our presence much?! Well pardon me but I'll have the bonds cut right away! This relationship is most unhealthy!" He shouts out at the thing, piercing and slashing and piercing.
((FA the tentacle that grapples Enrick.
Melee: 19/14/18 (3d20) +13/8/3 (BAB) +5 (DEX) +9 (CHA) +1 (Weapon) +10 (Music).
Threats!
Confirm... 4/7 (2d20) +13/3 (BAB) +25
Results: 57 (Critical hit: 42), 47, 46 (Critical hit: 35).
Damage: 1d6+1 (Weapon) [+9 (CHA) +3 (INT) +10 (Music)] x2 +1d6+1 (Crit when appliable)
Results: 25 (Crit: 49), 29, 27 (Crit: 53)
If the tentacle falls before the last attack, redirect the rest at the Moonlord.
HP: 98 +13/114
AC: 23 +9
Dodge to the Moonlord.))
The air is knocked from Gail's lungs when the creature clenches its snake-like arms around her waist, leaving her to gasp while the product of insanity tears with its cruel beak into her leg. The paladin watches her allies meet the same treatment: one by one, the slithering tentacles slip around and crush them, then rush them into the waiting jaws of the umbral aberration. Merkass suffers worst of all, the thing's massive forearms digging into his flesh and pulling into the creature's maw. Gail's heart raced as she tried to catch her breath, tried to think of some way out, some way to help them, if she didn't they'd all died and...
And a feeling of calm spread over her being: her breath became easy and slow, her mind was swept of its panic and dread, and her wide golden eyes slid close. Swells of radiance rose within her, climbing until she could feel it through every piece of herself...and then, bled through her. A halo of light spread out from the angelborn's body, expanding to grace those around her with a feeling of safety, a knowing of peace, and then faded into nothing. Though the light may be gone, the sense of protection stays, hovering in the air over each individual.
[Gail casts the spell-like ability Holy Aura, which grants the following benefits to all but Coventry.
~ +4 deflection bonus and +4 resistance to saves
~ 25 SR versus evil spells and spells cast by evil creatures
~ Immunity to mental influence
~ If an evil creature succeeds on a melee attack versus a warded creature, it must make a DC 31 Fort save or go blind. It must make this save for each instance of damage. Blindness effects are non-cumulative.
Defensive Casting [if needed]: 1d20(2)+17(Concentration)=19. Pass.
Concentration check to actually cast: 1d20(13)+17(Concentration)=30. Pass.]
((Faralon uses Inspire Greatness +special to give Merkass and Enrick 6d10 +CON temp HP, +6 competence bonus to attacks, and +3 competence bonus to FORT saves.))
Merkass tumbles away as Enrick slashes off three of the monster's tentacles. The abomination howls in pain, and a voice like the whispers of a thousand madmen echoes in the group's minds.
"Food... Trespassers... You will be fed... to the Dwellers of the Mist..."
With that, the tentacles lash out again, raking across everyone save the Doctor and Merkass, one who is too far away, and one who dodges the tentacles aimed his way. The monster takes another bite out of Enrick, Faralon and Gail, its tongue lashing around grotesquely in its beaked maw.
((Miss on Merkass due to Sense. Hit once on Enrick, Miss twice on Enrick. 25 damage to Enrick. Bite! Bite! Bite! Bite damage to all grappled people: 21. Grapple damage to Gail, Enrick, and Faralon: 22, 26, and 22 respectively. ))
Next turn!
"Says you!... Wait, did it... speak common just no- augh!"
Enrick staggers and reels back as one of three tentacles hits him hard and begins to wrap itself around him, bringing him to the infernal maw of the creature once more.
"Damnit!" The Doctor curses as he starts forward again, this time not slowing as he unleashes yet another wave of healing onto his imprisoned allies. "Hold on, I'll think of something!" His words come desperately and their tone is...not exactly reassuring.
[Move 20 feet forward]
[Mass Cure Critical Wounds : + 35 HP : Everyone but Merkass and the Doctor]
[Healer Kicker(Aid): +13 Hp, etc, etc]
[Move 10 feet backward]
*Merkass grins ferally, his tactic having worked and the beast aggravated. Now it would make mistakes, most likely fatal. The creature's voice echoes through his mind, but he pays no mind to it. Merkass shuffles back more, distancing himself from the beast ever farther, and passing by Coventry's vantage point. From there, he draws the string on Mitula's holy weapon, and fires three arrows simultaneously at the otherworldly beast. It may be from elsewhere, but its evil stench was no different than any other, and it must be vanquished.*
((Move back 50', distancing himself from the Moonlord by 100'. Manyshot.
1d20 + 48 - 6 = 2 + 42 = 44. Hit. As a note, 1/3 of Merkass' attack bonus of 48 is due to Bardic abilities.
Damage
1d8 + 7d6 + 21 = 4 + 5 + 5 + 1 + 4 + 5 + 2 + 4 + 21 = 51.
1d8 + 7d6 + 21 = 1 + 3 + 6 + 1 + 4 + 5 + 5 + 4 + 21 = 50.
1d8 + 7d6 + 21 = 8 + 5 + 2 + 6 + 3 + 1 + 3 + 6 + 21 = 55.
+3 CON damage.))
Enrick lashes about to no avail, lacking the necessary strength to free himself. Once again his wounds vanish thanks to the Doctor's initiative and he feels relieved for a moment. He throws a dark glance back to the monster.
"I said... STOP TOUCHING ME!" He snarls at the creature, cutting off the fool tentacle in a fit of fury.
The swordsman then proceeds to release the rest of his friends, flying around the monster's form to slice and dice at the rest of its once numerous tentacles.
"I'll disarm you to the last... arm!"
((FA tentacle(s).
Melee: 9/5/11 (3d20) +13/8/3 (BAB) +5 (DEX) +9 (CHA) +1 (Weapon) +10 (Music) +6 (More Music).
Results: 53, 44, 45.
Damage: 1d6+1 (Weapon) +9 (CHA) +3 (INT) +10 (Music)
Results: 24, 23, 24.
Dodge to Moonlord.))
Though Gail winces as she is crushed and rent at, her stance fails to change; the paladin's breathing remains slow and rhythmic, and her eyes remain closed. Whispers of providence tumble off her tongue, uninterrupted by the starving star lord's thrashing. Suddenly, her silver brow furrows sharply, and her golden eyes open with a flash of light, lancing out and tearing through the flesh of the monster that should not be.
[Gail casts the spell-like ability Holy Smite on the Moonlord.
Defensive casting: 1d20(18)+17(Concentration)=35.
Actual casting: 1d20(12)+17(Concentration)=29.
Damage: 10d6(45).
If an SR check is needed, Gail's caster level is her hit dice, which is 13.
Not that it matters, but the Moonlord must make a DC 28 Will save or be blinded.]
*Faralon breaks the song, letting its effects linger as he casts a spell, calling out for a different kind of song.*
((Snowsong cast. It only has a V component, so if I need to make a Concentration check, 14 + 18 = pass. Snowsong's benefits: 30' radius on me affecting everyone - allies get +4 morale bonus to Charisma [attack roll bonus is superceded by music], +4 insight bonus to AC, fast healing 1, resistance to cold 15, and +1d6 cold damage on melee attacks. I doubt it can cast spells, but the enemy will suffer a 20% chance of spell failure, even if it uses divine magic, when casting spells with a verbal component. This penalty ONLY applies to enemies. The effect can be resisted with a successful WILL save, DC 25. You can't leave the radius and still get the effect, but you can re-enter the radius to regain the effect. This will last like 160 minutes, so yeah. Save me.))
Enrick slices off the rest of the smaller tentacles, freeing himself and his comrades as well as severely wounding the creature. This leaves the Moonlord with only its two long tentacles to attack with. The two long appendages swing wildly, Enrick easily dodging one, Gail the other.
"You... cannot know... cannot know... what lurks in the cold void... between the stars..." it whispers.
((Miss, Miss.))
Next turn!
"Enrick! You pulled it..." The Doctor begins, then he interrupts himself uneasily, "Eh...cut it off..." He laughs and starts forward, "Nicely done, way to fight smart!" He casts a spell, unleashing healing upon his allies once more.
[Move to within 10 ft of Gail]
[Auto-pass Defensive Casting]
[Maximized Mass Cure Light Wounds: +26 HP, everyone but Merkass]
The Doctor glances worriedly at the angelborn as he approaches, then turns to look up at the beast, "Of course not, but you can't possibly know what lurks in the heart of a Destonian noble!"
"Magic comes from the moon! And my wit. Have some!"
Enrick swoops down at the monster, landing each blow dramatically.
((FA the Moonlord.
Melee: 18/11/9 (3d20) +13/8/3 (BAB) +5 (DEX) +11 (CHA) +1 (Weapon) +10 (Music) +6 (Sweet sweet Music).
Threat!
Confirm... 4 (1d20) +13 (BAB) +enough to confirm.
Results: Enough to hit.
Damage: 1d6+1 (Weapon) +1d6 (Cold) [+11 (CHA) +3 (INT) +10 (Music)] x2 +1d6+1 (Crit when appliable)
Results: 56 +1 cold, 31 +4 cold, 27 +5 cold))
As the noble lays into the otherworldly beast, the Doctor gives the stalwart paladin another concerned look and snaps a finger in her direction with a word of power.
[Maximized Close Wounds: +9 HP: Gail]
The Moonlord lets out a terrible shriek as Enrick lands on top of it and drives his rapier through its brain again and again and again, until the tentacled monster heaves a great sigh and goes still. One last mental message echoes through everyone's head before it passes. "Beware... doom is this world's history... and its inheritance..."
Gail watches the nobleman puncture the mist dweller's body, an icy glare set on her face while the unearthy being writhes and twitches before going still. Gail draws a deep sigh at the battle's end...only to shudder at its passing, her once sure face broken by a worried frown, her breathing now quick and shallow. The paladin looks to the crumpled lump of mismatched flesh, recalling the thing's taunting words. "Dweller in the Mists...could there be more of these?"
((According to the SRD, one CR16 creature is an easy encounter. Gail: 1500 Doc: 1750 Everyone else: 1000 XP))
Among the treasures of the dead kept in this room are...
Scattered coins: 3,000 gold
Warchest: 20,000 gold.
Large well-done wool tapestry: 350 gold
Brass mug with jade inlays: 350 gold
Solid gold idol of Volcanon. 700 gold.
Ceremonial electrum dagger with a star ruby in the pommel 1,200 gold.
Fire opal pendant on a fine gold chain 1,400 gold
Old masterpiece painting, “Triumph of the Hero over the Dragon.” 1,400 gold
"Huh, a painting..." Coventry laughs as his eyes light on the idealistic portrayal of the swordsman, "...we should give it to Max."
"Are you kidding? It would be nice in the living room." Enrick retorts.
"Well..." The Doctor rubs his chin thoughtfully, "Max would look nice in the living room too..." He glances back at the angelic paladin, "Don't you think so, Gail?"
Gail comes out of her distracted state at the Doctor's question, the frown still apparent on her face when she looks to the painting. "He wouldn't like it."
KingKai279: He'd love it.
KingKai279: Max would love to be in Gail's living room.
cyrus v 2877: Unless Gail dressed up like Anri, I don't think he'd be all that enthusiastic.
cyrus v 2877: Besides, all Gail has is a tent.
KingKai279: He'd love to be in that tent with her.
Enrick chortles and browses through the treasures, one object retaining his attention.
"Hey, look at this! It's an idol of God Volcanon."
The Doctor's gaze lingers on the old painting for a moment, then he turns to look at the idol and as he does his eyes widen, "...that...would...look...great...in my bathroom..." He steps over to the statue and looks at it intrigued, "Oh my Volcanon, this is... Wow, just perfect right beside the petunias...in the corner..."
Enrick shrugs.
"I don't know, Covy, this is most precious and tied to the phoenixes. As such, it would be of the best effect in a warm and high spot... Like on top of the fireplace, yes. Right in the middle so the censer overhangs it."
The Doctor glances up at the noble thoughtfully, "Yeah... I can see it..." He turns back at the idol, "Huh, not a bad centerpiece at all, really."
"Sure, go for it..." The Doctor shrugs and turns away, "I don't even have petunias in my bathroom..." He grows quiet, a haunted light in his eyes, then adds softly, "I don't even have a bathroom."
Gail glances at the icon representing the ruler of the sun, before her eyes fall back to the scattered remains surrounding the corpse of the treasure's keeper.
"I don't even have a house..." The Doctor continues after another moment, "I don't even have a tent." He shakes his head, "I'm a real loser."
He laughs wryly and walks over to the painting, "Um... I want to give this to Max, take it out of my share."
Someone distributes the spoils of the victory. For the sake of expedience, let's say Gail does it, as she wants to leave anyway.
Shares per persons assembled: 5,680 gold. Deduct from this amount any treasure that you take; such totals shall be factored back into the total pool of acquisitions to be redistributed amongst the remainder.
Coventry: -1,400, add 350 gold to all other shares
Gail: -Full Share, Gives to Enrick
Enrick: 12060 gold
All others: 6,030 gold
The Doctor transports the group back to the fortress...then returns, spending several hours purifying the decayed remains contained within the cavern. He uses a religious ritual well known to priests of the light, praying to that deity to put the lost souls to rest and grant them peace.
At the request of a certain young buck adventurer...
http://voxpvoxd.com/rustysfc/TreasureHuntZoneCleared!.mp3
"You know, Rune seems to be such a thrilling place. If we can, let's return someday. *smirk*"
TH4 thriller

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Tue Mar 18, 2008 6:36 am
Hal frowns. He sits in his tent, looking at the music box he'd just purchased (Music boxes were hard to make, one of Derrik's associates had insisted, and even harder to come by. He http://voxpvoxd.com/filez/Shenhadran.mid the music box, and a slow, solemn tune fills the tent. The friar sighs. "That's nice."
Hal had been shocked (and frankly, more than a little dubious) to hear that his greatest obstacle was apparently insufficient cheer on the battlefield. Still, the Abbess had seen many battles of her own, and was very wise in her own humble way, so he felt obligated to try.
His mind wandered to the battlefield: Megiddo. He remembers seeing the holy knight Theodoric crumple to the ground beneath the strange magic of General Fasher. Unbidden, sadness and pity well up in his heart. He frowns, and takes a sip of his hot chocolate.
"A positive thought carries positive energy better than a negative," he mutters, and suddenly it clicks. It was as if this were an obvious truth that he had simply never bothered to think about before. Briefly, his hands glow white, but the light fades. Something fell into place inside him, and Hal's heart swells with a new resolve. He was certain of the rightness of the thing, and that thought gave him such a boundless happiness that he couldn't help but want to share it.
"This must be what she meant," Hal says, taking another sip of his hot chocolate.

Posted by: Cyrus Tue Mar 18, 2008 7:09 am
How could this happen? There was time, now. There was time.

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Tue Mar 18, 2008 12:11 pm
((Enrick pays 15 300 gp for the second weapon enchantment. The upgrade can continue.))

Posted by: Kaihaku Wed Mar 19, 2008 9:21 am
The Doctor spends five days, 200 exp, and 3,500 gold concocting something with his Item Creation feat. These are eight hour days, of course, leaving him plenty of time for other things.

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Thu Mar 20, 2008 12:14 am
Following the Bedoe battle, Cedric assembles a small group to follow the counsel of Mitula and visit the ruins of Dava's mansion. Kyoji is among this group, as are Zook, Castor, Faralon, Laika, and Isyndel. Graigus overhears that they will be visiting the final resting place of Chu Rao, the legendary drunken master, and asks Cedric to take him as well. Cedric agrees, and Isyndel teleports everyone from Fort Ordalia to Dava's mansion.
Their feet touch down on a blighted field of bones.
Slate gray clouds hang heavy over the sky. The earth is littered with the scars of battle -- scorch marks, both magical and technological in origin, huge deep scores in the ground, felled trees. And then there are the bodies. Corpses, stripped to the bone of flesh and item by scavengers of every sort, carpet the ground.
Standing silent and still over the long-passed carnage, a skeleton among skeletons, are the burnt ruins of the mansion itself. Only the barest wooden framework stands, loosely filled in by great mounds of ash and rubble.
Zook looks around, and rubs his hands against a phantom chill. "This is..." he looks down, his face shadowed, and rubs his hands faster, as if the friction will return the word he seeks. Eventually he finds it. "This is a mass grave."
The minotaur mercenary grunts at the tinker's comment, staring out at the pieces that were once bodies littering the ground. "This is no grave," Castor says, pausing to find the rest of his sentence. "Graves are where people bury those they know. This is no grave," he repeats to himself before heading off to join the others in a slow march.
Without a word, Kyoji walks towards the ruins and begins to carefully search the area. It takes Kyoji little time to find his sister's remains. Her body is mercifully covered by a tapestry (depicting a chimera in flight) that had fallen on her as the mansion burned, but he recognizes the ribbons she wore in her hair pinned beneath it. At her side are the remnants of the Kumoriken clan's ancestral katana, recognizable by the clan seal at the base of the blade and a Haponese dedication running along its length. It lays on the ground, its blade shattered into several large pieces.
Laika immediately senses the lingering evil that clings to the site of any carnage of this scale, but nothing new or fresh.
Kyoji kneels before his sister's body and closes his eyes, his head bowed.
Isyndel, having spent the last several moments looking about pensively, tiptoes forward and places one hand on Kyoji's shoulder in reassurance before sliding away again. Her eyes met Castor's as he spoke, and she merely lowered her head wordlessly.
Kyoji stands after a few minutes, his gaze locking with Isyndel's eyes in a wordless thank you before returning to the body of his sister. After a few moments pause, the ninja begins to wrap the corpse in the tapestry, preparing the body for transport.
Castor's eyes flick to Isyndel's for a moment, hovering on the scene between the sage and the ninja, then between brother and sister, before breaking off to the charred frame of the manor. He takes a few short steps towards the wreck, stepping onto a short hill of remains and stops, simply watching the bones of the manor rise out of the faceless carnage.
Knowing the pain of fallen kin all too well, Cedric watches the ninja honor and prepare his sister's body with deep sorrow in his eyes. He speaks quietly after a long moment, "We will restore what has been lost." He then turns, leaving the ninja a moment of solitude and pressing on into the ruins of a once great house.
After a few minutes, Kyoji completes the preparation, whispering a quiet prayer before gathering up the shattered pieces of blade around his fallen sister. Giving one last glance to his dead sibling, Kyoji rushes to catch up with the others.
"I can, uh, probably fix that," Zook mumbles, pointing to the remnants of the sword Kyoji gathered, as everyone prepares to enter the ruins.
The small contingent heads through the door -- and here Cedric may recall a time when he strode confidently through a doorway in Dava's mansion, only to be met with a faceful of shrapnel -- leaving the acres of death behind them. Inside the mansion provides little respite from the gloom and decay of the outer yard. Yet the impression they receive of the inside of Dava's Mansion is not of a standing skeleton but of a creature that has been gutted.
Most of the walls, and their respective decorations and ornaments, are simply gone. Piles of charred rubble sit around standing wooden struts, and ash-dulled trinkets poke out from the refuse. The group can see the entire ground floor of the mansion through the missing walls, leaving what remains cavernous, ashen, and empty.
Those with good hearing hear a very faint, erratic buzz, seeming to come from every direction. Kyoji, searching the area carefully as they advance, finds something scored into the wood beneath a section of blackened, peeling wallpaper. From what he can see, it appears to be a design or crest.
Castor's ears perk up as the squad enters, the minotaur halting at the noise. Waiting for a moment to see if he can pinpoint the buzzing around them, he then stirs, moving to the werewolf with a whisper, his ears darting to the wooden carcass around them. "Can you hear that?"
Her ears twitched at almost the same moment as Castor spoke, and almost immediately she brought a finger to her mouth to silence the others for a moment as she listened, peering about intently. It took nary a moment to recognize what the sound reminded her of, the connection making itself almost immediately apparent, but perplexion took over her face as she attempted to reason it out. Isyndel realized then that the others were not so privy to her thoughts, and explained. "Peculiar. It sounds as if ... oddly, that nagging sound reminds me of magic being misfired or used improperly." With a grin, she added "The sound of a sorceror constantly having his own magic backfire due to idiocy, perhaps."
Despite himself, the paladin smiles at the tactful comparision of Isyndel.
"There's some sort of design concealed by wallpaper here, one moment while I-" Kyoji's words are cut off as a spell suddenly crackles around him and Castor, leaving the minotaur untouched, but draining the ninja of most of his strength.
Kyoji staggers back, dazed. "I don't know, Isyndel..." he murmurs."This spell appears to be working fine... Anyone have some restorative magic on hand?"
"There was a certain irony to that," she muttered, chuckling quietly under her breath as she shook her head. The wizardess sauntered a few feet further into the room and looked about for anything out of the ordinary, trying to shrug off the incessant nagging prodding at her ears.
*Faralon, who had remained silent, looks over to examine the crest.*
"This...we should all have been affected just then. I think the magic has been distorted on this. This is a Symbol of Weakness."
*Faralon turns to Kyoji, pulling out the Staff of Healing he still had.*
"It won't help much, and I don't think this staff has much magic left to it. But, here..."
*Faralon uses the Staff of Healing, giving Kyoji back a little bit of strength.*
Graigus heard nothing - indeed, saw nothing - besides a horrible, charred mockery of what he had before known. He had not explored the mansion at all, was not made to know any of it's deeper secrets in his time there... but he recognized what should have been, and what was not.
Looking away from the trap, he scanned the passage before him, trying to discern what, if anything, was ahead.
"The floor," he said, suddenly. "Look at it... tiles, not bedrock. There might be something underneath here."
Kyoji begins to search the area for secret doors or traps. After a while, we shakes his head, turning to the others.
"I can't find any secret passages or traps here. What now?" he asks.
Isyndel closed her eyes and brought one arm before her, two fingers extended and the others closed. She whispered an incantation softly, brushing her hand once to the left before snapping it to the right just away from her hip. For a moment, she cast her eyes about the room slowly, absorbing the new sights revealed to her. "There are several magical auras...," she began, casting her eyes about to each as she spoke them, pointing to each. "The strongest two," she motioned to them both, "contain strong traces of evocative and necromantic magic. This one possess Evocation, and evidence of transmutation. The weakest bristles with conjurative energy." The wizardess furrowed her brow in thought after speaking, nibbling gently on her lower lip.
*Faralon's eyes widen at this.*
"That can't be good. Dava abandoned the magic of transmutation...Someone else did this."
Kyoji gets to work disarming the traps once Isyndel points them out to him. There's a sound like a whip crack as a small pink dragon appears in what's left of the doorway, but it vanishes almost immediately afterwards. A cage of force appears around the burnt out husk of a wardrobe. Something inside the wardrobe rattles and an angry goat jumps out, however, it's weak and emaciated, and it drops dead on the spot. A fly buzzes over the tile that's been inscribed with a contingent spell. It shrivels up and blows away into dust. Finally, a huge ball of fire flares up, but Kyoji gets out of the way and there's nothing left for it to burn. It putters out.
"All traps disarmed," Kyoji says, looking around.
"Interesting choice of...traps..." Cedric remarks softly, his gaze centered on the dead goat. His frown soon returns however as he nods for the group to continue on.
"What was that about the floor?" Zook says, looking over at Graigus. "Something underneath it? Hmm..." He starts walking through the wreckage, tapping his feet and mumbling to himself. He gradually veers off in one direction, gravitation towards the wreckage of the library, where nothing remains but a tattered and ashen carpet.
"Should be... here." With some effort he pulls the remains of the carpet away to reveal a circular stone vault cut into the floor.
"That's going to be pretty hard to get open..." he says. "It doesn't look to be locked or sealed, it's just a big heavy bit of rock."
Isyndel and Faralon notice another set of symbols inscribed into the face of the vault door, though they're chipped and unrecognizable.
Castor, overhearing that an obstacle needed removing, stomps over to the stone vault and grabs an eroded edge with his fingers. Managing to lift the vault door onto the floor, he begins sliding it off, shifting to grab the other side to prevent it from falling in. After a few more moments, the minotaur's work is finished, Castor sitting on the circle now laying flat on the floor.
"As good a method of entry as any," Isyndel noted. "At some point there was a much simpler method to open these doors, provided you knew the magic necessary to wield it. This was no longer usable, but perhaps there will be others here to study," she finished, content at the thought of having the opportunity to do so.
Kyoji moves up, scouting the secret hall, the ninja suddenly looks up and jumps back. Kyoji just manages to back away from a wall of force that descends rapidly on the narrow passage.
"Interesting use for a wall of force," the ninja notes, looking at the area he just evaded.
Isyndel passes Kyoji, raising the Psychowand to the barrier and concentrating intently. With little fanfare, the wall flickers once, twice, and fades away. She turns to look back at the ninja. "What exactly would you consider an uninteresting use for a Wall of Force?"
The group continues down the narrow passage that inclines downward. After a few hundred feet it opens into a much larger chamber. At the far end of the room, three treasure chests stand side by side.
Kyoji takes point, and is the first to enter the room. He notices that the center of the floor is cracked, and the rough tile is flattened. A moment later, after everyone else files into the room, he realizes why.
(( http://www.shinola.radh.com/guest/Vox/OldWoundsBossBattle.mp3 ))
A huge pair of thick stone legs fall from the ceiling, landing with a thud squarely on the cracked and flattened part of the floor. The legs are followed hard upon by arms and torso, which align neatly with the fallen legs. Finally, a stone head and neck, tilted upwards, connects to the shoulders of the rest of the statue. Then the entire statue is awash with dazzling, oscillating light. Two tiny red pinpricks alight in the statue's deep eye sockets.
Then it attacks!
Cedric centers his energies and channels divine power.
*Seeing the statue come to life, Faralon speaks to the force.*
"That's a Bildblok! It must be. They're very powerful stone golems that can also exhale freezing gas! We have to take this down quickly!"
*Faralon then begins to sing.*
Lacking anything better to do, Kyoji attempts to draw the attention of the golem and thus its attacks. The ninja flits around the creature, trying to get it to attack him and not the others. As part of the effort, he lashes out with his Force Dagger, hoping to draw the construct's ire... if it had any.
As the monster appears, Isyndel instinctively drops to the rear guard. Raising her left hand to the sky, she activates the stored spell in one of her rings, granting the members of the small group the effect of Haste.
"Okay! I'm going!" the monk said, charging in. His first three strikes proved to be useless - no douby the discomfort associated with his new weapon - but the next three were full of power, and he noted immediately how much more useful his present was.
"Remind me to thank Master Quialis!"
Castor scuffs his hooves against the cracked stone, the massive minotaur hunkering down in preparation to throw all his force into the next blow. He charges with all the grace of a battering ram, horns clacking loudly on stone with crushing impact. Castor wasn't used to using his head to get through confrontations, though, and he momentarily staggers,`his body trying to play catch up while the golem towered over his head.
The Bildblok stands its ground, though it is battered, smashed, and chipped by the blows raining down on it. Castor's charge is the most damaging, but the minotaur's horns pierce the construct so deeply that he has difficulty extricating them.
Then the Bildblok spreads its arms out and opens its mouth. A bitter gale and huge chunks of ice fly from his maw, striking everyone except the nimble Kyoji, who had moved around to flank.
Cedric stares down the incoming blast of cold, as if daring it to strike him. The cold, for its part, seems to blink, and indeed it bends around the paladin. He steps forward, hammer raised, and brings it down once, twice. Dust and gravel fall to the floor while the twin eyelights dim and fade. The only piece of the Bildblok large enough to hold in two hands is the piece still attached to Castor's head.
((Victory!
Level 17 characters gain 2,550 XP
Level 16 characters gain 3,200 XP
Level 15 characters gain 4,750 XP))
All that remains is the rubble, the silence, and the three chests at the far end of the room.
*Having been unable to dodge most of the cold, Faralon shivers as he speaks.*
"Ch-check for traps, Kyoji. This place has had so many already, it would be foolish to not play it safe with those chests right there."
Kyoji searches the area and finds nothing.
*Seeing Kyoji show that there probably no traps, Faralon moves forward and looks back at the others before opening the leftmost chest. Faralon is astounded to find a long golden staff that flares at one end, topped with an orb that seems to shine despite the shadows. A blue ribbon hangs from the base of the staff's head, extending about halfway down its length. Faralon recognizes it immediately as a Mystery Staff. Smiling wide, he immediately heads to the next chest, opening it. It contains a heavy lance. When he takes the lance out, the dim light of the room catches it and dazzling colors fill the area. There are five: red, blue, yellow, green, and violet. Faralon recognizes this weapon as well - it is a Chromatic Lance. Setting these two down so he can open the third, he takes out a large, heavy sword with a thin, wicked-looking single-edged blade. The weapon seems to cast two shadows: one dark and solid, the other thin and wavery, as if light were shining on it from two different angles. Faralon recognizes this weapon as well: the Murasame.
Graigus merely looks around, not noticeably shivering because he evaded the majority of the frigid blast. Hoping that his natural instincts might once more lead to a find, he put them to use on the next set of stones he noticed. Even so, he couldn't help but hide his discomfort at the ruined mansion, not to mention the bones and bodies strewn about like leaves in the wind.
Graigus doesn't find any unusual stonework. But he does find something. What catches his eye lies among the field of bones. Unlike Kyoji, Graigus isn't spared the sight.
A skeleton, broad and large-boned, picked clean, leans against the base of a crumbling wall. Despite the dirt and decay he can tell that the corpse is clothed in what were one shimmering white robes with gold trim, robes Graigus has no trouble recognizing as those of his former master, Chu Rao.
"Ma...master," he stammered, his grip on the staff loosening. His gait slower than it had been in months, he could do nothing but look at the horrible sight before him. "No..."
Zook shifts his weight from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable and at a loss for words. "Did you two know, ah... each other?"
"He... I..."
The monk breathed heavily, his head dizzying at the sight. He struggled to find the proper words, to get out what he was saying without screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Chu Rao was... my master," he said. "And... Mr. Dicem told me he was dead, but... I didn't know, I thought... I thought he went... died... differently..."
"I owe them," he growled in dwarven, his words thick and heavy. "You didn't deserve this, master... but they deserve what I'm going to do to them. Never again..."
"Never again," he repeated, in the common tongue, as he looked for something - anything - that would cover the dead drunken master's body. "I need to... to... to cover him. He' shouldn't be... like this..."
Finding more than he had hoped for, he went to a pile of half-burnt drapes. The top set of fabric burned badly, but most of the cloth below was intact. Spreading it gently across the debris near his mentor's bones, he roughly wiped away a tear and set about moving the body.
"Do you want help?" Kyoji finally offers after observing the scene in silence.
Zook looks at Graigus, his face creased with pity. He ducks into the debris and comes out with several long, sturdy poles. "I can make stretchers. It'll...it'll make it easier."
The monk simply nodded, an automatic response to questions he only half-heard. He continued to wrap the body in silence, until he began speaking an old dwarven prayer while he continued at the task before him.
With the slow pace of a funeral march they gather up the fallen and leave the corpse of Dava's mansion, littered with its kin. Zook takes a final look at the remains of the place, and for a moment he feels the fierce urge to stay behind, to rebuild and renew, to mend the broken and mourn the dead. But he reaches out and touches Isyndel's hand, and in a flash of light, they are gone.
For a brief moment, the thick gray clouds break, and a single sunbeam falls upon the mansion.
((These are the stats on the weapons you guys got:
Mystery Staff: +5 quarterstaff. Every round a wielder holds the Mystery staff, a "level" of spells is restored. EG, it takes 9 rounds to restore a level nine spell. Lower level spells are always restored first. The staff can restore fifty spell levels a day.
Chromatic Lance: +4 Lance of Dragonbane. It deals an additional 1d6 points of fire, frost, acid, electricity, and poison damage per hit.
Murasame: +4 Katana. Maximizes one sneak attack a round.))

Posted by: Alpha Thu Mar 20, 2008 1:58 am
((Tanis finally gets around to spending his accumulated money. With 3,500 donated from Zook, the catfolk buys a Lesser Quicken Metamagic Rod. He's now able to enlarge, empower and chain a sound lance twice in a single round, three times per day. DEATH))

Posted by: Kaihaku Thu Mar 20, 2008 1:58 pm
"Talacre is it?" The Doctor says with a faint smile, "I heard you might be running intelligence on Destonia, literally even." He looks over the spry elf, "I'm pretty quick myself but judging from that last battle I can't hold a candle to you..." He chuckles, "Anyway, I thought I'd offer you a disguise for while you're darting around the empire." He rubs his chin thoughtfully, "How does a blue hedgehog suit you? For some reason I can't get the image out of my head."
The green haired elf regards the Doctor and returns the smile. "Well, it's a possibility," he replies. "As for the disguise, it sounds like a good idea. Green hair generally indicates where you're from, so I'd stick out quite a lot. One thing though....would I be able to keep these shoes?" and he indicates his black with gold threads enchanted boots.
"Well... I can't see why not..." The Doctor replies as he bends down to examine the rather awesome boots, "...but yeah, you know, someone might recognize such excellent craftmanship..." He smiles, "Let's throw em off." Speaking a word of power, he touches the boots and they shrink slightly into wayfarer's shoe and shift in color to red and white. "I can return them to normal anytime."
[I love PAO]
Talacre examines the new design of his magical boots. "Interesting colour scheme," he comments. "I like it. Let's see...maer," he intones. With a small flash of light, he's suddenly fifty feet away, and with another flash he's back. "Still work great. Thanks," he says to the doctor. "By the way, you wouldn't know of any way to enchant these further, to add to my speed?" he asks. "If I was faster, then there'd be even less chance they'd see me coming. Or at all," he adds with a grin.
The Doctor's eyes widen ever so slightly at the display, "Impressive..." He chuckles ruefully, "Now you've made me envious..." He looks at the amazing footwear for a moment longer before replying, "Actually, my sister is a capable cobbler, she...improved my boots recently..." He shuffles his feet awkwardly, his own lichworn boots feeling dreadfully out of style, "It took a few days though... When were you going scouting, it might not be done in time...and she'd need to keep the boots for the entire time, so you'd be without them."
"I'm not sure when, or even if I'll be scouting. I don't think anything has been completely decided yet." He pauses. "Anyway, if it means they're being improved upon, I don't mind being parted from them for a few days or more. I'd need to raise some money first though, so it might be after the potential scouting mission that I get them done anyway."
"I can't imagine that Alex wouldn't put your immense skills to use." The Doctor smiles, "...but then, leaders make some rather odd decisions sometimes..." He speaks a word of power and touches the footwear returning it to its elegant form, "Let me return your boots to normal then, for now..." As the footwear becomes boots once more, the Doctor nods, "Well, let me know if...when you get sent on a scouting mission..."
"They can, yes," Talacre agrees. "Plus, I've only just joined Alex's group. Still, hopefully I'll get to help out." Then the Doctor returns his boots to normal. "My thanks," he says. "I might get you to change them back sometime though," he adds with a grin. "And yes, I'll let you know."
"I'll mention the idea to Sophie..." The Doctor replies, "See you around...if I'm quick enough."
Can you see it?

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Thu Mar 20, 2008 2:28 pm
Definitely.

Posted by: DragonmasterDon1 Fri Mar 21, 2008 2:18 am
Stories of Time Lost - The long awaited series of short stories that no one was waiting for about inactive Don characters! - Episode 1: Eve - Mommy's Little Girl It wasn't long after Alexander's crew had found their new home that Eve Morslyn, a young Pegasi maiden and one of the small regiment's stalwart shields, fell astray. The scarlet haired woman found herself suffering through shifts of emotional distress, feeling at times alone and frightened, others irritable and resigned, and other occasions still self-loathing. Whether the abrupt change from fighting traveler to passive standby had caused the feelings to surface or simply the bitterness of failure to meet her own high standards on her travel had caused them or that something else all together had caused her self-esteem to buckle so was unclear, and neither the source nor its end were readily apparent.
Whatever it was could all be boiled down to one simple after effect; she had lost her will to fight, and she didn't understand why. She wandered the fort in her light clothes often listlessly, her eyes almost hazy as she interacted with the inhabitants without meaning or purpose. In all she seemed almost no different then before except when the time came to step forward for a mission of any kind, where she would suddenly become difficult to locate in a crowd, forcing herself to fade away or worse, not show up at all.
After days, even weeks of her dismal behavior carrying onward, she succumbed to an urge that she found herself almost ashamed to be having, and decided to go home. Not to stay, of course, but to get away from all the things that had clouded her since her arrival. It would take some time, but Alexander had allowed her the time to go, and had even suggested making use of the various magic wielders about the fort to have her arrive much more quickly even if they would not wait about for her to return.
And so it was that in the hills of a land not so terribly far away, Eve stepped foot inside the large cottage that her parents had built so many years ago and took a heavy breath, running a hand over the side of her face to push strands of red hair over her ears as she peered about. Little had changed; the cottage was as homely as any other (except for excluding 'normal' human furniture in most regards as there was little need for it anyway). Checkered curtains swayed softly in the breezes of open windows and by a door left slightly ajar in their kitchen. Her mother was certainly outside, and she clopped her way across the floor gingerly to head to that door, pausing only briefly to gaze at her father and mother's prized lances and spears arranged neatly over the mantle.
Eve gathered herself, stepped outside, noting the form of an older pegasi woman, legs hunched close to the ground as hands worked fervently in a garden. It was a pasttime almost necessary living as far away from civilization as they did, but one that provided different challenges to her equine family, and Eve smiled in spite of herself to see her mother so active and such a reflection of her genuine health.
"Pretty sure you shouldn't be here," her mother spoke over her shoulder, and Eve made no effort to disguise her surprise.
"Pretty sure with a reaction like that I shouldn't want to be here," Eve replied sardonically.
The pegasi woman climbed to her feet and raised her arms over her head, stretching and flapping her still pristine wings before lowering a hand to tug at tightly woven braids of raven colored hair that had been pulled behind her head before turning around, a wide smile crossing her lips as big blue eyes looked back at Eve. Eve smiled back and galloped forward quickly to embrace her mother, wrapping her arms about her as tightly as her armored form would allow her before stepping back.
"Huh," her mother spoke, casting her eyes over her daughter more seriously as they separated, pressing her fists against her hips as she did so. "Something's definitely wrong; your equipment is in too good a shape, and I've heard nothing of the world knowing peace anywhere. That coupled with the fact that you're here means something's wrong."
"You look great too, Mom. Gardening hasn't dulled your eyes nearly as much as I figured they would," Eve replied, unable to hide her fulfillment in being near her mother and not having to tenderfoot around what she needed to talk about.
Dusk Morslyn, Eve's mother, had known enough battles in her time to be the perfect judge of such a thing; in fact, her mother had always been far more insightful than her choice of husband, and a much more capable fighter. Eve had heard the stories from them both back when her father had still been around, and when he had left, found herself emulating all of her mother's lessons and actions from those days in her training. The older woman had spoke often of her companions with the same gentle smile across her face that Eve had just seen her display when beholding her, but something in her eyes was always different when speaking of her past, and the daughter had often suspected there was more to the stories then her mother had revealed. Rarely did she speak of much beyond techniques and strategies when teaching her daughter the arts of war, and rarely did she speak of anything besides anecdotes and gentle memories of those times.
She was her mother's daughter after all, Eve Morslyn realized then, for the first time seeing reason behind the feelings she could detect through her mother's talks of those times. But even Eve could not know more than what her mother had told her; the woman never revealing how she had not been born into the world as a Pegasus but as a Centaur, never revealing the reasons why she had left Protectora's Knights to dally about on some great adventure to save the world, and never touching upon why she returned to the knighthood upon the conclusion of it, only to leave it several years later and rarely speak of it again. And Eve suspected this wasn't as simple as loathing what had become of her homeland down the road, or loathing them for the fate that befell her father during the Runefaust war. Something about her mother's experiences had changed her in ways she never wished to discuss, and as she replied to her mother, she could not help to feel both sorrow for her, and fear for her own future as well.
"My eyes will always be good enough to look at you Eve, just as my ears will always be good enough to listen. I'm always gonna' be your mother, you know. Someone has to, and to be honest I'm not sure who else would want the job anyway."
"Don't worry Mom, I'd be sure to put whoever else would do so through as much torment as I do you. I'd be fair about it, at least."
"Ha, I'm sure you would!" Dusk replied, unable to control the laugh that escaped her for several seconds. "Anyway honey, let's go inside. I'll warm us up something to drink and you can tell me what has you looking so somber...ah! Don't even try to pretend you're not!" she accused mockingly, waggling her finger at her daughter with exaggerated motion before turning to head back inside.
Eve nodded, and followed her mother inside after casting a look at the garden, noting that her mother's work didn't look finished to her.

Posted by: Kaihaku Fri Mar 21, 2008 7:29 am

QUOTE (DragonmasterDon1 @ Fri Mar 21, 2008 9:18 am)
Stories of Time Lost - The long awaited series of short stories that no one was waiting for about inactive Don characters! -

((Yep. Just call me nemo.))
Maria gains a level in Psion.
+6 HP
+3 Bonus PP
+29 PP
Learns Psionic Teleportation Circle!
Vox: he's built one toy and a whole lot of killing things
"Zook, we have a serious problem." Cedric states sternly as he steps up to the tinker, "Kyoji just returned from scouting out the Strife Lord's fortress... I'm afraid we have a toy gap, Shailtor has at least six thousand more baby dolls than us and...I don't even know how many jump ropes. We have a few kites but its not nearly enough."
Vox: I wish
Vox: ...
Vox: wait was that serious

Posted by: FreedomJu Sat Mar 22, 2008 3:04 am
Spartan-127 calmly walked towards the Doctor, wherever he is around the base and whatever he is currently doing. She is once more clad in her powered armor, minus the helmet which she had left with Adam for repairs as the motion sensor had stopped working after the last battle. "Doctor, I need to speak with you," Melissa states simply, as was normal for her.
"Oh..." The Doctor tilts his head to look at the foreboding warrior, "...well, I'm glad I was able to meet your needs... However strange they were..." He grins and taps his forehead, "Till next time then." Then he vanishes...
Next time...
The Doctor is walking along side one of the cliffs surrounding the great shining citadel, running a hand along the rockface as he looks up thoughtfully, "hmmm...let me see..." He mutters to himself.
With her helmet retrieved from Adam, Melissa walked towards Coventry again, after an short, but annoying search for him. "Doctor Coventry," she calls out, hoping this time he wouldn't flee.
The Doctor contiunes to walk along the cliff, muttering to himself absentmindedly.
Frowning slightly the Spartan moved closer to Coventry before trying again. "Doctor Coventry, I need to speak with you."
The Doctor mumbles in reply, "Again? Already?" He shrugs his shoulders, "Well...whatever, anything I can do to help..." Then he pauses and glances back at her then, "...say, how high can you jump?"
Melissa pauses for a moment as she wasn't expecting that question, the frown growing under her helmet as she replies. "At the moment, I do not know. Before the coma I used to be able to jump 4 or 5 meters straight up, which is what I want to talk to you about."
"Really?!" The Doctor replies in surprise, turning to look at her, "That's amazing! That's just what I wanted to talk to about!" He chuckles, "What a coincidence!"
"You knew about my coma?" the Spartan replies, a small amount of surprise hearable in her voice.
"No!" The Doctor laughs as he glances back at the cliff, "Jumping!" He says something in a garbled language then touches a hand to the cliff. The rockface trembles then begins to surge outward forming a large semi-circular outcropping about a hundred feet above. Smaller outcroppings bubble to the surface of the cliff, scattered in a rough order towards the larger outcropping. "See you at the top!" The Doctor says he leaps upwards into the air while speaking a strange word and a powerful gust of wind catches him, carrying him to the uppermost platform.
Melissa gave a small sigh of annoyance as she eyed the platforms and wondered why some people insisted on being annoying. Crouching, the Spartan managed to then jump high enough to just catch the edge of the first platform. With some effort and the aid of her armor she is able to pull herself up. The process repeats itself several more times, though there were a few platforms though that she was able to clear without having to grab the ledge and climb up. Eventually she manages to reach the top and she stands near Coventry again, covered with sweat and breathing heavily.
The Doctor stands on the ledge of the outcropping, his back to the weary warrior, staring down at the fortress far below. "So...you were comatose?" He glances back over his shoulder, "For how long?" He then waves a hand with a laugh and fully turns, walking towards the center of the outcropping, "Wait, wait... Step into my office."
The Spartan's eyes narrowed at the Doctor's actions, wondering what exactly he had planned now. She cautiously walked towards the area he designated, habitually hiding her weariness.
The Doctor walks over to the edge of the outcropping, repeating the odd words he had spoken earlier and laying a hand on the rock. The cliff trembles once more and then begins to flow outward, at first beneath the outcropping and then carrying it with it. As the stone slows in its flow, the two now stand atop a tall pillar connected to the cliff by only a narrow bridge of stone. The smaller outcroppings vanished in the upheaval, replaced by a simple path hewn into the very rock. Liquid stone flows up around the edges of the tower forming thick pillars and then a roof of stone. Finally, a squat round table and two chairs take form in the new room.
The Doctor gestures to one of the chairs while he steps over to the other and takes a seat, "So, what exactly happened?" He tilts his head, "...and why did you want to talk to me about it?"
The Spartan eyes the empty chair before opting to stand behind it in the 'at ease' position instead, not willing to test to see if it could support a half ton of weight. "Three, almost four years ago I had suffered a head wound that left me comatose for the majority of those years. When I awoke, I found that my home planet was under attack by the enemy we had been fighting for decades and rushed back into combat despite my weakened state. I was nearly killed again before Commander Radford and others of the GDO arrived. While they could treat my recent injuries and I had some time to retrain myself in part, I'm still far weaker than I was originally and current events lead me to believe that I won't have time to implement a suitable training regime."
The Spartan pauses for a moment as she mentally forms her request and prepares for a negative answer. "You brought me back from the dead in the last battle, a feat I thought impossible before coming to this planet. Since you were able to do that, I must ask if you are able to undo the damage the coma inflicted upon my body or at least speed up my recovery."
"Huh..." Withdrawing an old tome from the satchel he carries, the Doctor opens it contemplatively and leafs through the pages before stopping somewhere near the middle. He leans back in the deep stone chair and puts his feet up on the table, reading over the material before him intently. "Well, well..." The Doctor muses as he lowers the tome and glances up after about five minutes of reading, "I don't really understand half of this."
Melissa blinks in surprise as she would have thought that somone able to bring a person back to life would understand something as simple as a coma. However, instead of asking what he DOES understand she decides to wait and see if he elaborates on his own.
The Doctor closes the book, sliding it back into his satchel, "Well, given what I know of you spacemen, the Ancients probably used the same techniques as you anyway..." He chuckles and stands from the chair, then he pauses with a frown, "Can you take off that helm, it's really starting to freak me out."
The hiss of escaping hair could be heard as Melissa carefully removed her helmet, revealing her pale skin and the line on her head where hair refused to grow. Tucking the helmet under an arm, the Spartan otherwise doesn't say or do anything.
"Funny, I figured you for a blond." The Doctor says despite the fact that he had seen her helmet-less earlier that same day, he walks over and hops onto the stone chair she stands behind, running a finger over the hairless line across her scalp, "What's that from?" He frowns, hopping down from the chair, "You know, examing your head would be a lot easier if you'd sit down...really..."
"A close range blast from a Covenant Plasma Rifle," the Spartan replies before eyeing the chair again. She gave the Doctor a quick glance before carefully sitting down in the chair, testing it to make sure it could support the weight of her armor and setting the helmet down on the table.
"Excuse me, a what?" The Doctor questions.
Melissa mentally berates herself for answering like that without explaining what exactly the weapon did. "It is a ranged weapon that generates bolts of plasma capable of melting steel."
"Oh, sounded theocratic to me... Well, anyway, you know my name is...Coventry, I find this really ironic." He chuckles, "Want me to get rid of the mark?"
A subtle motion of her shoulders could be seen by the Doctor as Melissa does the Spartan's equivalent of a shrug. "Physical appearance doesn't matter to me, reaching my peak performance does."
"That, my friend, is patently obvious." The Doctor replies evenly as he begins to examine her skull more carefully.
[Heal: 15 + 26 + 10 = 51]
[Knowledge(Ancients): 13 + 6.5 = 19.5] ((Ancient Medical Science))
After a moment, he adds, "...you never did tell me exactly what happened... What kind of injury was it?"
"I was part of a raid against a Covenant held position on one of our worlds, only their numbers were far greater than expected. An nearby explosion drained my shields and knocked me prone onto my belly."
Melissa pauses before mentioning the next part, not because of remembering physical pain, but because she was shamed at having failed a mission. "When I rolled over onto my back I found one of their warriors standing over me with the weapon I mentioned. My helmet saved my head from being vaporized by the shot, but it didn't prevent me from slipping upon a coma when they shipped me home for medical treatment."
"Covenant?" The Doctor asks as he continues his work, "What exactly do you mean by that, something other than a sacred promise I take it?"
"The Covenant were a collection of alien races bound by a religous conviction to find the secrets of the Forerunners, an ancient race from thousands of years ago. Their leaders decided that humanity should be destroyed and launched an invasion against humanity."
"...that's strange." The Doctor interrupts in a perplexed voice, "Did something...happen to your spine?"
"I did suffer spinal damage during my last battle before the GDO arrived," Melissa admits. "However, it was minor enough where they were able to fix it without much trouble."
"No... It's not the damage... There's something...different about it..." He smiles patiently, "...abnormal even... Are you really human?"
The Spartan tilts her head to the side slightly for a few moments before realizing that Coventry didn't know about her enhancements. "I have to assume you are referring to the cybernetic port at the back of my neck as well as the various other genetic and cybernetic enhancements I was given. For example, my bones are lined with a metal like substance that makes them far harder to break."
"Why... No, no, let me guess..." The Doctor sighs, "To make you better at ending life."
"Look, if you were comatose, I could easily wake you..." The Doctor states as he steps away from the super-soldier and returns to his chair, "...but what you really want is for me to reverse the fact that you spent almost four years sleeping. It's time, not a wound, that's weakened you." He shrugs, "That's why your spacepeople can't help you."
The Spartan frowns at this. "You can revive a person who has died, but you can't at the very least speed up the rate my muscles will rebuild themselves?"
"Oh please, I never said anything about what I could do, I just pointed out what you spacepeople can't do." The Doctor scoffs, "Death is kind of a universal problem so of course I've spent a good amount of time learning how to counter it. This...situation of yours is a bit more uncommon but I'm sure that there's a way to at least speed up the process."
Melissa waits patiently for Coventry to explain any ideas he might have.
"There are a few spells I want to try firsthand, but then I'll start researching more...unusual techniques..." The Doctor continues after waiting for a long moment for the spartan to comment, "I'm confident that I'll be able to aid your recovery, it's just a question of time and effort."
"Understood."
"Now then..." The Doctor smiles, "There's the question of payment..."
The Spartan is silent for a long moment before replying. "What do you mean by payment in this situation?"
"Payment? You know, a commission for my services?" The Doctor replies, arching an eyebrow, "Do spacepeople not use money?" He blinks, "Oh! That reminds me, your leader owes me a diamond!"
"I've never used money before," the Spartan says. "I never had a need for it."
"Well, you have a need for it now." The Doctor replies.
"How much?" Melissa asks slowly.
"None, I'd prefer you to help me locate some information..." The Doctor replies, "There's an ancient tome supposedly sealed in a tower on the island of Asreet; now this tome contains a great deal of knowledge on curses and afflictions... Knowledge that would be extremely useful for a healer." He shrugs, "I don't know if that knowledge would be able to help you or not, but it would definately increase my abili...wait..." He arches an eyebrow, "Weren't you there when the Goddess told us about it?"
"I was," Melissa confirms.
"Well, if you want my assistance, the price is helping me obtain that tome." The Doctor replies.
Melissa-127 casually donned her helmet once more as she stood up. "When do we leave?"
"There are a few supplies I want to pick up beforehand...so how about tomorrow morning?"
"I will speak to Commander Radford."
"When you do, make sure to remind him that he owes me a diamond."
------------
As Jim walks the grounds Melissa-127 quickly walks up to him before snapping a salute. "Sir, Spartan-127 requesting permission to speak."
"Permission granted," Jim says, returning the salute. "Speak freely."
"Sir," the Spartan begins, "I would like to request permission to leave the base with Doctor Coventry in an effort to locate what he believes to be a valuable tome of knowledge."
"When?" Jim asks.
The super-soldier's answer was quick and to the point. "Tomorrow morning."
"That shouldn't be a problem, do you want support? I could send someone with you," Jim offers.
"I believe that the Doctor wants to keep this as small of an operation as possible. We should be fine, sir." The Spartan pauses for a moment. "If possible however, I would like to request additional equipment for this operation."
"All right..." Jim says, nodding.
Melissa lists the items she would like to see and Jim quickly places the order. When he finished with that Melissa mentioned one more thing.
"The Doctor also wanted me to mention that you owe him a diamond, sir."
"Ah, for ressurection costs. Right, I'll buy one and send it to him."

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Sat Mar 22, 2008 3:26 am
Hal steps out of his tent, looking around. "Ah! There he is." The friar catches Sorel's eye and approaches him. "Good afternoon, Sorel. How's it?" Sorel sighs, turning to face Hal. "Good afternoon." "How are you doing?" "Fine..." Sorel looks confused. "How can I help you?"
"Just wanted a friendly chat, you know, nothing special."
Another sigh. "Friar..."
Hal holds up his hands. "Please. Call me Brother Hal."
"I do not think you have very many idle chats, Brother Hal. You wanted to talk about something."
"Well..." Hal admits, "Yes, I suppose I did."
"Well?"
"Have you spoken to Tela--"
Sorel shakes his head, inwardly fuming, and turns to walk away. "Good day, Friar."
Hal follows. "Sorel..."
Sorel wheels around, looking Hal in the eye. "I appreciate your concern, but I am handling this as best I can. I do not need your counsel. I do not want your help. Please, I am sure there are plenty of people better suited to your talents." He starts walking away again. He gets a good bit of the way down the pass before he realizes Hal is still following. He turns around again. "Why are you still following me?"
Hal's face is filled with pity. "Sorel... I don't think you're thinking about this clearly. I heard stories about how you used to be a counselor, a wise man. What happened? You were a friend to everyone. Why can't you let me be your friend?"
Sorel tries to contain himself and fails. He barks a laugh. "Do you even know what a friend is?"
Hal looks taken aback. "I beg your pardon?"
Sorel opens his mouth, then shuts it and shakes his head. "I am sorry, forget I said it. My apologies. Good day."
"Sorel... I understand what you're going through. The sadness, the pain, the unwillingness to take that next step... I can help you."
Sorel bites his bottom lip, hard.
"What are you afraid of? More loss? It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
Again, Sorel cannot control his laughter. He doubles over with it, and eventually the worst subsides. He walks over to Hal, claps a hand on his shoulder. "My good man," he says around the laughter. "How on earth would you know?"
Hal looks unsettled by this. He nods. "Good day, Sorel." He vanishes.
Sorel looks at the space where Hal just stood, sighs, and continues on the hike that the chase began.

Posted by: Rusty Sun Mar 23, 2008 3:01 am
"Hey, you! Uh... hey, Ombligo!" Zook calls across to the magical creature. *Ombligo looks over at Zook. He waves a tentacle before floating to him.* "Hi!" "Hey," Zook says. "This is kind of an odd question. How old are you?" *Ombligo rubs his shell.*
"Umm...I haven't really been keeping track of time lately. I know I'm not a year yet in human years."
"Wow, so you're like a kid, then."
"I guess. I mean, I'm not completely sure how we Magic Creatures age. I definitely feel a lot older, but maybe that's because I've experienced so much with the war and all."
Zook tilts his head, quite forgetting what he came by to do as curiosity overtakes him. "How far back do you remember? Can you remember being born? Can you remember before that?"
"Well, I can remember hearing some voices dulled by the egg. They were mostly muffled, so I didn't really get what was all said. But I do remember when I hatched, which wasn't very long after that. That's when I saw Mahler for the first time. Heeheehee, you should've seen the look on his face!"
"The golem? So you've known each other your whole life, then?"
"Yup! The only times we've ever been apart has been when we're not together on this journey. Before we signed up for Swiftjoke's little force it was just me and Mahler, and Sorel when we met him."
"Wow. So what were you doing before you started fighting?"
"Exploring, mostly. I learned to gamble - I almost had to until we met Sorel. Mahler doesn't eat, but I do!"
"So, uh, when did you start fighting?"
*Ombligo rubs his shell, trying to remember.*
"Umm...Let's see. Well, Mahler and I would see criminals here and there, stealing from others usually. And neither of us felt that was right, so we took it into our own hands. That's when I cast my first spell. We really enjoyed helping others, so we made it a point from then on to go and do what we could to help people in need."
Zook stares at the magical creature for a moment. "You've been fighting your entire life?"
"Not my whoooooole life. You see, I hatched in a cave, which was a ways from a town. We didn't see criminals immediately or anything. But yeah...I have been fighting for most of my life, I guess..."
*Ombligo frowns and floats downward a bit at this realization.*
"Haven't you ever had a toy, or something?"
"Well, I used to love looking at the trinkets and such that I saw in stores, but I couldn't really afford most of them. Now that I can, I realize there's more important things out there. I do love playing games, though. I don't just gamble for money, heehee."
Zook looks down at the ground for a minute. "Do you want a toy?"
*Ombligo looks at Zook and then floats upward again, noticeably curious.*
"A toy? What kind of toy?"
Zook drops his satchel on the ground, rummaging through it. He pulls out a tiny gyrocopter. "One of these."
*Ombligo looks closely at it.*
"What does that do??"
Zook holds it out. "Take it."
*Ombligo takes the gyrocopter in his tentacles, holding it carefully.*
There's a crackle of electricity and the gyrocopter whirls to life in Ombligo's tentacles. The tiny propellers spin rapidly, and it begins to rise, taking Ombligo's tentacles with it.
Zook claps his hands. "I thought that'd work! See, I noticed that whenever you spend a lot of time in one place the workers' hair tends to stick out, and they shock people who touch them. That's called static electricity. You've used so many lightning spells you've built up a latent static charge. That means, just by touching that toy, you manage to give it enough charge to make it fly." He grins. "Neat, huh?"
*Ombligo looks, amazed as he lets the toy go to see how high it'll fly.*
"Wow...I have that much electricity in me?"
"Yep. The longer you hold it, the longer it'll keep its charge, the higher it'll fly."
The gyrocopter goes about five feet higher, hovers for a moment, and begins to descend.
*Ombligo catches it immediately. His eyes remain fixated on the toy.*
"So electricity makes this thing fly? That's cool!"
Zook smiles, watching the gyrocopter settle into Ombligo's tentacles. "Do you want it?"
"Are you sure? You don't want it to experiment more or something? I mean, I know you're always busy working on stuff...So maybe you have more of these?"
Zook laughs a little, but he looks uneasy. "The stuff I'm always busy working on isn't kid stuff. It's not really grown-up stuff either. It's not stuff anybody should have to deal with. No, if I could spend all day making toys that's what I'd do. But we're not that lucky, are we?"
"No, I guess not...But thanks, Zook. I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun! Maybe we can make a game of it sometime. But um, hey. I'd feel bad to not give a gift in return, so if you need me for anything, let me know. Okay? I can't build or create stuff like you can, but I always have plenty of electricity!"
*Ombligo giggles at the last remark.*
Zook nods. "I'll keep that in mind. Just... make sure to make time to play with it, okay?"
*Ombligo's a little confused by the request.*
"Um, okay...Hey, Zook...When's the last time YOU played with a toy?"
"When I made that," Zook says. "That's what I do when I'm playing."
"Heehee, okay. You should go play some more, then. You should open up your own shop when this war's done. Me? I don't know what I'll do. I've seen so much of the world...But I guess there's a lot more to see! There's no end to exploration, is there?"
A strange expression crosses Zook's face. "Yeah... yeah, I think you're right. Well, I've got to get back to work. It was good talking to you, Ombligo."
*Ombligo holds his new toy as he responds, not moving a tentacle for fear of dropping it.*
"Thanks again, Zook! Nice talking to you too."

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Tue Mar 25, 2008 7:41 am
The next day, right after lunch, Hal sets down on the path to Shade Abbey, and walks the mile or so in silence. Upon arrival, he asks for the Abbess. Khris arrives to meet Hal shortly after being asked for. "Brother Hal, what a pleasant surprise! Come to lend a helping hand with healing or cooking once more?" Khris asks cheerfully.
"Do you need help?" Hal asks, rubbing his hands together against the cold. "I'd be happy to do whatever was needed, Abbess."
"Well, if you wouldn't mind, I was going to tend to the wounded. You could help, there's nothing too serious today, as luck would have it. Just training injuries and some illnesses," Khris says.
"Lead the way, Abbess," Hal responds.
Khris leads Hal to the infirmary, which isn't as crowded as it was last time, though it is quite full still. "Most of the patients are fine and just need some rest to fully recover," Khris says, gesturing to the beds. "There's been a lull in Cult attacks recently. A lucky break for us."
"Perhaps the tide is turning?" Hal says hopefully, surveying the infirmary.
"Perhaps. There's been word of raids on the Cult fortifications at Bustoke, and I hear they also suffered a bloody defeat on the Pao Prarie," Khris says.
Hal glances at Khris. "Bustoke isn't far from here, is it? Do you think the raiders will come this way?"
"It's entirely possible," Khris says. "If not likely. We're the only bastion of light for miles in all directions."
"It can only mean good things," Hal replies, walking towards a young man lying awake in a bed, a clean but deep gash in his side. "Good afternoon," the friar says, wincing as he gets a better look at the wound. "How'd you get that?"
"Not even in a battle," the young man grumbles. "Training accident... I slipped on some mud and slashed myself open with my sword! I almost wish I had died, it would've saved me from facing my commander..."
"That's a nasty accident," Hal says. "Did you learn anything?"
"Yeah, watch where I step," the young man grumbles.
"That's a pretty important lesson," Hal says, laying his hands on the wound. "There's all sorts of garbage and rubble on battlefields. I used to trip and fall so much I had to buy magic boots to keep my balance. Hold still, this won't hurt a bit." He murmurs words of light and wholeness.
The wound seals itself and the young grins. "Thanks, uh..."
"Hal," Khris says.
"Thanks Hal!" the young man says, vaulting out of bed and promptly slipping on the covers, crashing to the ground in a heap.
Hal winces. He leans down to help the boy back up.
"Do you ever get the feeling..." the young man mutters as Hal helps him up. "That the world is a joke and you're the butt of it?"
"Sometimes," Hal says. "I think everyone does. The best thing to do, I think, is to learn to laugh along with everyone else."
"I guess," he says as he rubs his shoulder where he landed. "Well, I better go check in. Thanks again, Hal!"
The young man races out of the room and Khris turns to Hal. "That was well done. Did you try my technique?"
"You know, I did," Hal says. "I tried to keep a mental image of the boy where he'd never been wounded. That the Light wasn't something I gave him as a gift or a blessing. Almost like... almost like it was something that was his all along, something he'd misplaced that I'd been able to give back to him."
Khris smiles, nodding. "Good! Sounds like you've got the trick nearly down pat!"
Hal smiles. "I suppose. It's not really a trick, though, is it? More like turning something over in your hands so you get a different look at it, let it catch the light a different way." Hal looks around for another wounded.
"There's one last bit to that trick now that you've got the whole of it down pat," Khris says to Hal. "You can try it on that poor elf over there." The Abbess points to an elf with an infected arrow wound in his shoulder. It wouldn't be a bad injury were it not poisoned and diseased.
Hal heads towards the wounded elf. "Hello there," he says. "How are you holding up?"
"Eh. Can't complain too much," the elf says. "Arm's sore as heck, but I'm just waiting my turn in the line."
"Cult arrow?" Hal asks, studying the wound.
"Yep," the elf says. "Got me before I could get him. At least I walked away from it."
"Where are you from?" Hal asks.
"Bustoke originally, took a trip down here because the air's much nicer. Doesn't stink of Cult," the elf says.
"From the sounds of things the air up Bustoke way is getting better," Hal says, laying his hands on the wound. "You have family there?"
"Not anymore," the elf says, darkly.
Hal's expression falters a bit. "How long ago?" he asks quietly.
"How long ago what?" the elf asks, blinking.
"How long ago did you have to leave?"
"When the Cult invaded, a few months ago," the elf says.
Hal lays a hand on the wounded shoulder, focusing clearly on the image of the elf and his family while he mutters a minor healing spell.
The wound seals and the elf smiles. "Thanks, pal. If that's it, off to the barracks with me."
"What's your name?" Hal asks.
"Iric," the elf replies. "Why?"
"No reason," Hal asks, looking back out the door for a minute. "It just-- it occurred to me that I never asked any of the others their names."
The elf shrugs. "No one can remember everyone. I'm off. Thanks again."
The elf leaves and Khris nods. "Good work. The final bit to tell you is simply to feel your essence and use it to give a push to the healing... Kind of like gently touching your soul to theirs."
"So it's a bit like making them a part of you for a moment?"
"Not exactly," Khris says. "It's not a joining... more like..." Khris frowns. "Corny as it sounds, the best analogy I can think of, is that it's like putting a comforting hand on someone's back, but the hand is a part of your soul."
"So it's a touch, then. A touch of the soul."
"Right!" Khris says, snapping her fingers.
"Thank you, Abbess," Hal says. He looks around.
"You're more than welcome," Khris says. "Use the technique to restore good health in good health yourself!" Together the friar and the Abbess tend to the remaining wounded. It's short work, between them, and those healed report the curious sensation of a warm hand lingering on their wounds after the healers have moved away.
"I really can't thank you enough, Abbess," Hal says. "You should come by the fort sometime, and bring the others. I could make a big meal for everyone!"
"I don't know that it'd be soon, but sure, at some point!" Khris says with a smile. "I hear Tao visited you a day or so ago."
"Oh yes, I heard about that," Hal says. "Pity I didn't see her. I heard it was quite a memorable occasion."
Khris nods. "Tao has that effect."
Hal nods. "Well, Abbess, I'll let you get back to your duties. I've got quite a few of my own. If there's ever anything else I can do to help you, make sure to let me know. Light be with you, Abbess."
"And also with you," Khris says, nodding. "Go in peace to love and serve the Light."
"Thank you again, Abbess," Hal says, departing.

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Fri Mar 28, 2008 7:52 pm
((Graigus purchases a Ring of True Strike [2000 gp]. After dealing with the scene at Dava's Mansion, he has asked for some time away from fighting, if possible.)) ===== ((Placeholder for Spellbook of Ash))

Posted by: Kaihaku Sat Mar 29, 2008 3:36 am
"Oh Sophia...beloved sister of mine..." The Doctor sings out cheerfully as he steps out to the priestess, "Enjoying the view?" The priestess is standing atop the fortifications surrounding the Shining citadel; a crystal ball resting upon a golden stand sits before her on the rampart. Faces familiar and unknown flicker in the depths of the sphere, interspaced with flashes of blood, steel, and flame. "No..." Sophie replies quietly, waving a hand over the crystal ball, "Not really." The images fade away, leaving the sphere dull.
The Doctor steps closer, running a hand over the crystal ball and conjuring up images anew of a quiet village surrounded by mountains and forest. A few villagers wander here and there, going about their trades peacefully.
"I know..." The priestess breaths, shaking her head, "I know...but that doesn't mean I have to like it..."
"Wait... Did you really think that was a justification?" The Doctor looks at her wryly, "From me?"
The priestess sighs, "What do you want?"
"Well, a few things..." The Doctor answers, "I was surprised to see you opt out on this raid..."
"It's not a raid..." The priestess interrupts with a frown, "A raid wouldn't include half of our forces and three out of four leaders."
"I'm sure I wouldn't know..." The Doctor shrugs, "Why didn't you go along, I figured you would be at Alex's side."
"Sir Theodoric asked me to accompany him on a few diplomatic missions." Sophie replies quietly, "He said that divination would be a great asset...in explaining the current state of the world..."
"Sounds useful, where are you going?"
"First, we're to met with the King of Cypress..."
"Wow, my little sister's becoming quite the important person, meeting with Kings." The Doctor grins.
Sophie rolls her eyes but a smile graces her lips, "Then, we're going to the capital of the republic to meet with the king there..."
"Aspinia?" The Doctor ponders, "I wouldn't mind tagging along..."
"Awww, are you jealous?" Sophie chuckles, "Wish you were meeting kings too?"
"Terribly, I'm outclassed... I'd have to meet with the Emperor just to catch up with you."
"Good luck with that!" Sophie laughs.
"I know, it's like pulling hair to get an appointment with him."
"After that, we're traveling to Hapon to meet with some ninja clans about the liberation of Rune."
"Bring me back a pair of their eating sticks, won't you?"
"Alastor, this isn't a pleasure trip." Sophie replies sternly, "It's serious."
"Ohhh..." The Doctor looks crestfallen, "Please?"
"...if I have the time." Sophie replies lightly.
"You're cruel."
"You're one to talk." Sophie huffs.
"Well, sounds like you have a busy day..." The Doctor replies, "I figured it had to be something important to pull you away from the side of your beloved Alex."
Sophie makes no reply.
"Well… There was something else I wanted…"
"Which was?" Sophie asks coldly.
"I have another commission for you." The Doctor smiles, pulling out a parchment which he hands to the priestess.
"Of course…" The priestess sighs, taking the sheet and looking over it with a growing frown, she glances up, gesturing at the parchment, "What is this?"
"Exactly what it looks like."
"I already…"
"It's not for me." The Doctor laughs, "Well, I don't have the gold on me now…but I will, in the meanwhile…you can keep this as insurance." He hands his sister a small faintly glowing pearl.
"…Alastor, this is…"
"Sufficient insurance?"
The priestess glances up at her brother, "Alastor, keep your pearl…" She glances down at the parchment, "Pay me when you can…but…this is going to take awhile…"
"Thanks." The Doctor replies as he reclaims the pearl, "No worries, I have full confidence in your abilities."
Sophie smiles uneasily, "Thanks...I guess."

Posted by: FreedomJu Sat Mar 29, 2008 5:27 am
The Doctor purchases the following at a total expense of 2,565 gold pieces. Vestment of Many Styles Safewing Emblem 2 Elixirs of Hiding 2 Elixirs of Sneaking
2 Elixirs of Vision
2 Potions of Spider Climb
Now properly equipped, the following morning the Doctor and the woman incapable of having fun prepare to brave the dangers of Asreet Island.
In the dim light of early dawn, the Doctor stands near the great fortifications surrounding the headquarters, looking up at the soft colors of the sky.
((If TUM sees this before Lance, please feel free to start Asreet.))
The two travel to the island of Asreet which rests between Cypress and Rune, there they make their way to the edge of the deep dark forest.
"Lead on, Ranger." The Doctor says confidently.
The foreboding forest is unnerving to cross, a three hour long hike under a canopy that hardly lets any sunlight touch the forest floor. Shadows are everywhere and the pair cannot help but feel they are being watched. Despite the ominous feeling of tension, the two manage the hike without incident and emerge from the forest to discover a vast necropolis in front of them. Great stone mausoleums, temples, and tombs cover the valley in the shadow of an imposing mountain. Gravestones litter the whole area.
((Spot/Listen please. Spartan got 41/38))
Her senses keener than most mortals can hope to come close to, the SPARTAN detects an invisible skeleton moving silently behind the two.
((41 Spot, 38 Listen from Melissa
And Kai, Melissa would have tried to teach the Doctor basic 'Go' and 'Stop' signals, mostly for use inside buildings to keep him out of any ambushes))
Melissa-127 emerges first from the forest, rifle at the ready as the Spartan scans the area with her senses as well as utilizing the rifle's new scope to get a better look at some of the more distant buildings. However, after a few moments of searching Melissa's sixth sense started telling her that something was wrong. Not seeing anything in front of them, the Spartan abruptly stopped and spun around to face the area they had come from. It only takes a moment for the Spartan to locate the source of her uneasy feeling, what appeared to be fresh footprints in the overgrown grass around a tombstone. Reacting on instincts born from years of fighting Covenent warriors armed with cloaking devices, she automatically shouldered her rifle and fired off a single round at roughly an Elite's torso, or a human's head, would be.
Instead of the roar of anger she was half expecting, she was rewarded instead with the sound of the metal spike shattering bone and the clattering of many more bones landing on the ground. Despite being surprised at this turn of events, Melissa carefully scans the area around them for signs of any more invisible threats but spots nothing. Despite that, she had a feeling that whatever she shot wouldn't be the last one. "Careful Doctor, I'm thinking that there will be a lot more cloaked threats."
"What?" The Doctor glances back at her, arching an eyebrow, "What's that?" He frowns, "Why are you shooting your gun? Come on, this is serious. Stop playing around." He shakes his head and continues on, muttering to himself, "...cloak threat... Ah, its a scary cloak...It's going to keep me warm and dry... Oh the horror."
Melissa shoots the Doctor a frustrated look before she figures out how to best explain what she meant to him. Backtracking to where the bone thing was and feeling around for a few moments with one of her hands, she locates one of the loose bones. Turning back to Coventry with a bone grasped in her left hand, she tossed it at the Doctor, hard enough to leave a bruise but not hard enough to cause any real injury.
The Doctor stumbles with a cry of pain, graping at the back of his head, "What the..." He turns to look at the SPARTAN, his eyes wide, "What...what the hell is wrong with you?!" He gestures around him at the massive necropolis, "LOOK AROUND YOU! There could be undead lurking anywhere! ...and what are you doing? Throwing rocks at me!" He stares at the armored warrior sternly, "Be serious!"
The Spartan silently sighed to herself at Coventry's failure to understand and started to question her decision to accompany him on this search. But regardless of if this was a good choice or not to take this trip, she was already here and would have to just make sure it didn't end in failure. Resigning herself to having to protect the apparently unobservant Doctor, she takes the point once more.
The Doctor rubs his head with a glare at the SPARTAN, "This isn't the time for games...
Using her knowledge of combat tactics and what she has learned about this world thus far, Melissa carefully leads Coventry deeper into the necropolis, sticking to open areas as well as avoiding tomb entrances. The overcast sky lets only the grayest light touch the area, so there are many shadowed areas, but the two are able to avoid all of them. Eventually they reach the center of the necropolis, where a huge, toppled statue of some forgotten king rests.
The Doctor glances around the ruins thoughtfully, then pulls out a potion and downs it in one gulp. He wipes away a trail of the magical liquid with his coat sleeve, then begins looking around, "Let's get started."
[Potion of Vision]
[Search: 9 + 6 + 10 = 25]
[He's looking for the tomb of that one dude Mitula told us about, the Master of curses...or anything else of interest.]
Before Coventry and Melissa can move out from the center, a loud roar splits the air as a horrendous monster emerges from one of the crypt entrances. Standing a full ten feet tall, the monster appears a gruesome amalgamation of human, monster, and demonic parts. An agonized and all too human face is offset by a monstrous maw of fangs, and terrible claws grafted onto the arms. It roars again, greenish pus leaking from gaps in its stitches, then it charges towards the pair as a line of zombies pull themselves up from the ground and slowly begin to lurch in the Doctor and Spartan's direction, encircling them.
Coventry remembers all too well the creature of many parts. He remembers fighting an Overlord.
((Overlord distance: 120'. Zombie distance: 80'.))
"Huh...that's strange..." He mutters uneasily, his brow furrowing pensively, "How did one of those get here..." He glances at the armored warrior, "This doesn't bode well for us... Not at all." He clucks his tongue, "Well, I guess its a good thing I brought you along." He takes a step over, speaking words in a guttural language and touches her arm. Vigor surges through the warrior, a sense of health beyond anything she'd experienced before.
[Monstrous Regeneration]
"Now do you see what I meant about the undead?" The Doctor says with a frown, moving so that the spacewoman is between him and the overlord, "This is a really dangerous situation..." He looks at the dozens and dozens of zombies stumbling towards the two lonely warriors, "...yeah."
Melissa doesn't answer the Doctor and within a moment the sound of her rifle unleashing a salvo of holy metal spikes drowned out what he was saying as she instantly responded to the situation. Not really checking to see what kind of damage she inflicted upon the huge undead thing, the Spartan glanced to their sides and quickly picked a direction, tossing an HE grenade towards the zombies in an effort to clear a path.
((Melissa full attacks the Overlord, then uses Heroic Surge to toss an HE grenade at the zombies to one of the sides. When she glanced to the side she was checking to see which rooftops looked easier to climb, that's the path she wants to clear out.
Gauss Hit: 1d20 + BAB + DEX + Weapon Focus (Gauss Assault Rifle) – Burst Fire + Enchantment = (12/7/2 + 8 = 20/15/10)
Attack 1: 9 + 20 = 29
Attack 2: 6 + 15 = 21
Attack 3: 18 + 10 = 28
Gauss Damage: 3d10+3 + Weapon Specialization (Gauss Assault Rifle) + 2d10 (Burst Fire) + Holy + Enchantment = (5d10 + 8 + 2d6)
Attack 1: (5d10 = 5 + 6 + 9 + 1 + 1 = 22) + (2d6 = 3 + 4 = 7) + 8 = 37
Attack 2: (5d10 = 8 + 3 + 3 + 6 + 6 = 26) + (2d6 = 1 + 5 = 6) + 8 = 40
Attack 3: (5d10 = 2 + 4 + 7 + 8 + 4 = 25) + (2d6 = 1 + 6 = 7) + 8 = 40
All rifle attacks ignore a total of 20 points of DR between the rifle and Sense Weakness. Also, Armor Piercing 7.
Grenade Hit: 1d20 + BAB + DEX - Range Penalty
17 + 20 -2 = 35
Grenade Damage: 10d6
3 + 3 + 5 + 4 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 2 + 1 + 1 = 24
Dodge to the Overlord I suppose, just in case it does get close enough))
The Doctor glances at the hardened veteran skeptically out the corner of his eyes, unimpressed by her noisy antics, "...that was laughable." He shakes his head quietly, his eyes turning to looking at the fearsome undead swiftly closing on them. He waits a moment, then barks out a phrase in a tongue unknown to the hardened veteran, a shiver of healing radiating from him.
[Prepared Action: once a decent number of undead are within 50 ft]
[Swift: Cast Stabilize: +1 HP to all living creatures, -1 HP to all undead will dc 18 negates : radius 50 ft]
[Healing Kicker(Aid): Mel and Doc gain 13 temp hp, +1 morale bonus on atk and will saves versus fear]
The zombies moan, moving in closer to the two only living beings in the necropolis. As they do so, four of them are promptly blown to shreds by Melissa's grenade, the blast tearing them apart. The Doctor's healing spell causes them to shudder and stall for a moment, but they press on. Melissa manages to see a nearby mausoleum with a nearby tree that should be easy to climb, and from there, jump down on top of the structure's roof.
((Double move 40' total. Zombies now at 40' away. 36 remaining.))
The Spartan's gun blasts rip open three large holes in the Overlord, but it roars in defiance and charges, closing the distance with incredible speed. In a mere six seconds, it is upon Melissa, driving a huge, malformed claw at her. The giant outcropping of bone is deflecting by Melissa's shields, but the charge is nearly gone from them.
((Charge. Hit! Melissa's shields take 22 damage.))
>>Next turn<<
"GO!" Melissa shouts at Coventry even as she jerks her head in the direction of the mausoleum. "Get on top of that building, I'll be right behind you!"
"I don't really see why..." The Doctor replies dryly, with a doubtful look at the panicked woman even as he makes a sweeping motion with his hand and speaks in an alien tongue, "...but whatever suits you."
[Defensively Cast: autopassed]
[Mass Cure Critical Wounds: 45 damage to 18 Zombies : Will Save DC 25 for half]
He then rolls away from the massive overlord, making for the mausoleum which he easily leaps atop boosted by a gust of wind.
[Tumble: 5 + alot = passed]
[Updraft]
[Balance if needed: 7 + 8 = 15]
Once the Doctor started moving Melissa was quick to follow him, her training and armor allowing her to execute perfectly timed rolls to avoid any attempts by the Overlord to hit her before she got up and started to make a break for it. As she approached the mausoleum she used her momentum to launch herself into a mostly vertical jump high enough to allow her to land onto the roof of the building, bypassing the tree entirely.
((Double move action.... with a 20 for both Tumble and Jump. Even I get lucky sometimes it seems.))
Eighteen zombies groan and topple as flashes of light surround them at the Doctor's beck and call. The agile medic and his soldier companion fall back as the lurching zombies continue to slowly plod after them. Not so slow is the massive Overlord, who charges forward at Melissa, his oversized arms and claws managing to reach her even on top of the mausoleum.
((18 zombies remaining. Now at 40' away. Overlord charges! Hit! 15 damage crashes the shields and the rest is absorbed by DR.))
Next turn.
((By my calculations TUM, Melissa actually takes two points of subdual damage, unless that Regen spell adds DR and I just forgot about it.))
Now that they were out of the way of the zombies, Melissa was free to fully concentrate on the massive thing attacking her without worrying about being swarmed. Raising her rifle, she unleashes another long burst at point blank range.
((Full Attack with Point-Blank Shot bonus (I'm assuming anyway) Action Point burned to boost to hit of second attack by 5.
Gauss Hit: 1d20 + BAB + DEX + Weapon Focus (Gauss Assault Rifle) – Burst Fire + Enchantment + PBS = (12/7/2 + 8 = 20/15/10 + 1)
Attack 1: 3 + 20 + 1 = 24
Attack 2: 2 + 15 + 1 + 8 (Action Point)= 23
Attack 3: 8 + 10 + 1 = 19
Gauss Damage: 3d10+3 + Weapon Specialization (Gauss Assault Rifle) + 2d10 (Burst Fire) + Holy + Enchantment + PBS = (5d10 + 8 + 2d6)
Attack 1: (5d10 = 9 + 5 + 10 + 2 + 6 = 32) + (2d6 = 4 + 5 = 9) + 9 = 50
Attack 2: (5d10 = 3 + 8 + 6 + 6 + 9 = 32) + (2d6 = 5 + 6 = 11) + 9 = 52
Attack 3: (5d10 = 1 + 10 + 1 + 10 + 10 = 32) + (2d6 = 5 + 5 = 10) + 9 = 51
If the Overlord does die before Melissa fires all three attacks, then she stops firing and doesn't use up her remaining attack(s) to shoot zombies, at least not on burst fire mode.
All attacks ignore a total of 20 points of DR between the rifle and Sense Weakness. Also, Armor Piercing 7.
Dodge to Overlord))
"What? You got hit again?" The Doctor exclaims in disgust, "I thought you were some kind of ultimate warrior or something, can't you even dodge a giant...giant...eh..." He glances up at the overlord, "...thing?" He grimaces, "I guess its impressive that you're still standing after letting it get its...claws...hands...eh... Getting a hold of you." He moves back away from the edge and the overlord, getting as much distance as possible.
The Overlord ignores the massive wounds being opened in its unnatural hide and continues to crash its immense claws into the Spartan. Melissa feels the overwhelming strength behind each blow, but the armor she wears blunts the damage and greatly reduces the wounds she would have taken. The beast howls in outrage, lines of milky white spittle flying from its mouth. The zombies cluster mindlessly around the mausoleum, reaching futilely for the two living on top of the white stone building.
((4 hits. 45 damage to Melissa after DR.))
Next turn.
"Look at this mess you've gotten me into..." The Doctor mutters, looking uneasily down at the hordes of zombies.
((I haven't Kai, Mel's at 127/155 HP right now, all subdual damage as far as I know))
The Spartan's face registered surprise when she was hit by the Overlord, not by the fact that she had suffered injury, but by the fact that her body seemed to be actually rejecting the wounds. With nothing more than a handful of painful, but easily ignored bruises instead of the gashes she should have had, Melissa fired another salvo of rounds at the abomination attacking her.
((Full Attack, Dodge to Overlord
Gauss Hit: 1d20 + BAB + DEX + Weapon Focus (Gauss Assault Rifle) – Burst Fire + Enchantment + PBS = (12/7/2 + 8 = 20/15/10 + 1)
Attack 1: 14 + 20 + 1 = 35
Attack 2: 18 + 15 + 1 = 34
Attack 3: 1 + 10 + 1 = Miss
Gauss Damage: 3d10+3 + Weapon Specialization (Gauss Assault Rifle) + 2d10 (Burst Fire) + Holy + Enchantment + PBS = (5d10 + 8 + 2d6)
Attack 1: (5d10 = 6 + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 21) + (2d6 = 4 + 4 = 8) + 9 = 38
Attack 2: (5d10 = 10 + 3 + 9 + 10 + 4 = 36) + (2d6 = 1+ 1 = 2) + 9 = 47
As always, ignore 20 points of DR and AP 7. If first or second attack kills Overlord, then the rest target zombies, but in single shots instead of burst fire so strike off whichever 2 d10's if that happens.))
The Overlord is limping now, large portions of its unholy flesh blown away by the Spartan's rifle. Still it finds the strength to batter the soldier mercilessly, the heavy armor of Melissa saving her again.
((4 hits. 35 damage after DR.))
Though Coventry's healing spell was keeping her safe from serious harm, Melissa was still frustrated at her inability to dodge the undead Overlord. However, the sight of it starting to have trouble helped to calm her frustration, almost as much as filling the thing with yet more holy gauss slugs.
((Full Attack once more, Dodge to Overlord
Gauss Hit: 1d20 + BAB + DEX + Weapon Focus (Gauss Assault Rifle) – Burst Fire + Enchantment + PBS = (12/7/2 + 8 = 20/15/10 + 1)
Attack 1: 12 + 20 + 1 = 33
Attack 2: 7 + 15 + 1 = 23
Attack 3: 5 + 10 + 1 = 16... I'm sure that's a miss despite using an Action point
Gauss Damage: 3d10+3 + Weapon Specialization (Gauss Assault Rifle) + 2d10 (Burst Fire) + Holy + Enchantment + PBS = (5d10 + 8 + 2d6)
Attack 1: (5d10 = 6 + 2 + 10 + 6 + 5 = 29) + (2d6 = 2 + 1 = 3) + 9 = 41
Attack 2: (5d10 = 8 + 8 + 10 + 9 + 5 = 40) + (2d6 = 6+ 4 = 11) + 9 = 60
All attacks ignore a total of 20 points of DR between the rifle and Sense Weakness. Also, Armor Piercing 7.
Same deal with attacks if the first kills the Overlord and such))
It takes both of the Spartan's final shots, but the Overlord lets out a pitiful groan and slumps down, finally dying after taking a massive amount of damage. The zombies still cluster at the base of the mausoleum, and further out in the graveyard, whooping calls and roars echo.
"Took you long enough...and you let that thing really tear into you..." The Doctor grumbles, "How do you expect to survive when you can't even dodge a lumbering patchwork giant?" He shakes his head, healing the SPARTAN and glancing around, "Anyway, do something about those zombies already... I don't much fancy sitting up here for the rest of the day."
[Cure Moderate Wounds: 2d8 + 10]
"Did you hear that?" He suddenly asks as if just noticing the strange sounds coming from the graveyard, "...what is that?"
"I heard," the Spartan answers. "As for the zombies, we should just avoid them and save ammo." Without bothering to explain to the Doctor as to how they were supposed to do that, Melissa leaps off the top of the building and easily lands on the ground 10 feet past the zombies. Quickly she starts moving away form the undead horde back towards where they had first been attacked.
((Jump Total of 37, upon landing Melissa uses the rest of her turn to move back towards that center/statue area. Should be a double move for 60' since Jump is part of a move action.
The Doctor rolls his eyes as the supposedly stalwart warrior attempts to flee, "I guess I'll take care of the hordes of zombies while you run away like a chicken with its head cut off..." He casts a spell to bolster his power, then proceeds to wipe out the hordes of zombies with wave after wave of positive energy.
[Healing Lorecall]
[MCLW - 23 damage]
[MCLW - 28 damage]
He brushes off his hands with a sigh as the last zombie crumbles, "I hate this..." He shakes his head and walks to the edge of the roof, looking around the vast ruins, "What exactly are you doing anyway?"
As Melissa hurried down the streets she started to heard what sounded like three large somethings heading her way, which caused her to speed up even more as she made her way to the crypt the Overlord had come out of. She had wanted to check it real quick as logic dictated that there was a possibility that the creature had been guarding something important. However, when she reached the crypt all she found was a path leading down quite some distance, or at least that is how it sounded to her ears from the echos. The Spartan quickly darted back to where Coventry could see her, and seeing the zombies no longer around she wondered if he had wasted some of his power destroying them. Regardless, they needed to move and she gave him a 'come here' gesture to indicate as such.
The Doctor hops off the rooftop with a frown and walks over to the warrior, "What?"
The Spartan's reply was quickly said as it was her belief that they didn't have a lot of time. "We have three large creatures coming in our way by the sound of it, and that other creature I just killed was apparently guarding an entrance to some kind of underground facility. Do you think your tome is down there, or should we get moving away from here fast?"
"An...underground facility..." The Doctor shakes his head, then sighs, "Sure, let's go see what's to be seen, I don't really understand the point of running around when there's work to be done."
Melissa's only reply was to shoulder her rifle and to cautiously start walking on the downwards path, her senses open for any trouble.
The Doctor follows after Melissa with a scowl.
The howls fade away as the pair enters the crypt, the Spartan alert for the first sign of trouble. The crypt stairs lead to a large chamber full of sarcophagi, and another stair behind that.
The Spartan spares the sarcophagi, but not spotting any threats she continues to slowly proceed deeper into the crypt.
The Doctor glances at the coffins curiously, then follows after the SPARTAN.
The tunnels lead deeper and deeper beneath the earth, through halls lined with corpses and coffins. At last you come to a bare stone chamber, with three halls leading from it.
Melissa hears an odd hissing sound, like gas escaping from a pipe to the right, and behind.
"Whatch behind us," Melissa whispers to the Doctor even as she shifts her rifle to cover the right hallway.
The Doctor blinks and glances behind him.
At first the Doctor sees nothing, then after a few moments, he sees a cloud of greenish gas emerging from a large number of cracks in the wall behind the group. The Doctor knows that the thing is not a ghost, ghosts are more ethereal than that. It shouldn't be any of the undead he knows about, though he supposes it might be a vampire in gaseous form.
Walking towards the two from the right hallway, far down the hall, is an armor clad humanoid. He doesn't appear to make much sound despite the armor.
Melissa watches the figure for a moment before opening up with her rifle, knowing that the armor clad thing must be an enemy considering where they where and what the area was infested with.
The Doctor groans as Melissa opens fire.
The Doctor laughs and Melissa fills the joy of life surge within her...for the first time.
The figure staggers back a bit at the shot, then laughs and calls out to the two. "Well, that's hardly a way to greet someone when entering their home, now is it? Really, where are your manners?"
"We left them with the zombies for safekeeping." The Doctor replies.
The figure keeps moving forward, stepping into the chamber's light, provided by four torches set into the walls, "Oh you must forgive them. It's been so long since they've had visitors, they must've been overeager to meet and greet you," the man says, smiling.
His skin is very pale, and he has shoulder length black hair with a long mustache. Black plate armor, unadorned and with no markings, covers him.
The Spartan adjusts her rifle repeatedly so that each of the figures is covered by her rifle every half second or so, ready to fire at a moment's notice.
The Doctor sees the gas cloud has now grown about the size of a man before it ceases to leak from the wall, roiling over towards the hallway the two had arrived from.
"I gather that goes for the patchwork slaughterhouses as well?" The Doctor asks with a chuckle, "I'm the Doctor Coventry and this is Melissa, a soul from another world on a quest to recover her lost femininity." He nods, "And, might I ask the name of our gracious host?"
"Ah, a worthy quest indeed... Would the lady like to remove her helmet for introductions?" the man says with another smile, "I am Geriymon, and am the equivalent of a castellan to this sort of underground 'castle'."
The Spartan doesn't give any indication that she hears the man as she still considers them to be hostiles, which is evident by the constant motion of her rifle.
"The pleasure is mine..." The Doctor replies with a smile, "I wonder if you know where I might find the tome of Fareen Dub'ah?" He chuckles, "A goddess told me I could find it here."
The others emerge from the halls into the light along with the first figure.
Geriymon shakes his head. "Oh, I'm sure many things like that are around here, somewhere."
"Why so keen on finding such ancient curiosities?"
"I'm rather curious by nature…" The Doctor replies, "…but in this case, there's a curse I intend to break."
"Oh? Curse?" Geriymon says, apparently genuinely interested. "Tell me more, I might be persuaded into helping, for a price."
"What sort of price did you have in mind, exactly?" The Doctor replies with a smile, "I'm rather fond of my blood and I'm not much interested in farming others…" He glances at Melissa, "Well…then again…"
Geriymon smiles. "Make me an offer. A taste from your companion is a nice place to start, if she truly is from the stars it will be a delightfully exotic taste..." He raises his hands. "Just a few sips, mind... I'm not suggesting enough to drain her."
"I don't know what you are speaking of, but any hostile action will get you killed," the Spartan quietly whispers.
"Well frankly, I don't see how that's possible," Geriymon says, smiling.
"Well, I greatly appreciate your hospitality, but I've made it a guiding principle in my life not to engage in the trade of sentient beings… Now, Melissa only barely qualifies as such in most regards but still…it's close enough to cause me some hesitation." The Doctor chuckles uneasily, rubbing the back of his head, "So… I'm quite curious, how old are you exactly?"
"I'm afraid I've lost count," Geriymon says, shaking a finger. "Besides, it's not polite to ask people's ages."
"No, it's not polite to ask a lady's age..." The Doctor responds, pointedly looking at Melissa, "I don't see any ladies here."
"You might try looking behind you," Geriymon comments.
The minute the Doctor turns, he note that the gas cloud is gone, and directly behind him is a deathly pale elven woman clad in a torn white dress.
The Doctor glances behind him, "Oh, my apologizes, but I certainly wouldn't ask her age..."
Immediately she lunges for him.
"Ahhhhh!!!" The Doctor cries.
The tall female hisses as it grabs the Doctor, baring fangs.
Melissa immediately spins around and opens fire upon the female Vampire. Two huge holes are blasted in the vampiress, but she doesn't fall.
"How unladylike!" The Doctor exclaims as he is tackled to the ground by the fearsome vampiress, then in he strikes her and there is a burst of light.
The vampiress screams as he body returns to gas and begins to roll towards the series of cracks once more.
"Struggle just makes you taste sweeter," Geriymon hisses, charges Coventry and strikes him twice with outstretched hands that seem now more like claws. The other two vampires lunge at Melissa.
The vampires are upon the two, Geriymon easily pinning the Doctor against a wall, while Melissa valiantly struggles, kicking off one of the vampires, but having another grab her from behind. As the vampires bash the two during the struggle with unnatural claws, they feel weaker.
"This just isn't my day…" The Doctor groans as he is slammed brutally into the wall, power leaching from him. He coughs out a word and vigor surges through him.
Unable to shake the vampire, the Doctor can only grunt in pain as the vampire bites into his neck, sucking on his blood.
Melissa bats one off again, but another grabs her in its place.
"Run!" The Doctor gasps at the armored warrior weakly.
Geriymon continues to feast, as the Doctor grows weaker and weaker.
The other vampires hold Melissa fast and scramble to find the latch to open her helmet.
"Blasted armor, how do you get this thing off!" one of the vampires roars.
The Doctor finds his struggles insufficient as his blood continues to be drawn from him.
"Watch as your friend is taken away from you," Geriymon says with a predatory smirk as he bites into Coventry again.
"So...sorry..." Coventry taps a foot on the rocks weakly and suddenly vanishes from the embrace of Geriymon.
[Sense Motive DC 24 to realize that the Doctor isn't sorry.]
Geriymon grins and turns to Melissa. "Well, it seems your friend has abandoned you..."
"Just give in, you might like it being one of us," Geriymon says, approaching Melissa and delivering two gut punches to the Spartan. "This is the hard way, and it's not very pleasant."
Melissa was satisfied to know that the Doctor at least was able to get away, completing one of her objectives. Now she was free to try to take them all with her.
One of the vampires grabs the struggling Melissa once more, as she kicks away the other. Geriymon punches at her again, grinning.
"So spirited!" Geriymon says, grinning.
"Such sweet life force! Perhaps you truly are from the stars!" Geriymon exclaims, his blows leeching energy from Melissa.
Melissa grunts from the blows and their effects, but refuses to say anything in response.
The Doctor reappears suddenly, springing down the stairs and tossing himself into a roll which ends at the side of the armored warrior. Snatching a hold of her leg, he glances up at Geriymon and speaks a single word.
An Overlord lumbers through each of the hallways just as Coventry speaks the word and the two vanish, the howling monsters screaming with fury.
The two vanish in an instant.
The vampires just smile at the vanishing pair. Geriymon winks.
The Doctor and the Spartan reappear in the mountain fortress of the forces of light.
"Well…that sucked…" The Doctor murmurs, rubbing his neck with a sour frown.
Once the Spartan realized that they were back in friendly territory, she was content to lay there for a moment with her eyes half closed.
Eventually she climbs back up to her feet and attaches her weapon to her armor. "Next time we bring an army," the Spartan states flatly before walking off to find one of the Ranger's healers.
The Doctor sighs, staring up at the blue sky, "I’m glad you made it, too." Then he hops to his feet, grasping his neck with a frown, "Ah…shit…"
---------
Van buys stuff and sells his old armor!
Darkleaf Breastplate of Nimbleness +5 (Armor bonus: +10, Maximum DEX bonus: +5, Armor Check Penalty: 0, Arcane Spell Failure Chance: 20%, Speed: 30 ft., Weight: 30 lbs.)
Amulet of Natural Armor + 3
Adds Earthbound enchantment to his guisarme!
1,446.5 left after all that.

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Mon Mar 31, 2008 8:27 am
Lunauga nestles in one of the tiny caves that dot the mountains. Far from the sunlight, he tries to sleep. The sounds of work from the fort below prevent that. He blinks his enormous, luminous eyes. A few hundred feet away, soaring between two peaks across the pass, the owl sees Anthem, Gail's griffon friend.
He'd been meaning to meet him for a while, and Lunauga decides now is as good a time as any. He scrabbles out of the cave and falls off the cliff, spreading his wings and catching an updraft to cross the pass. He hoots a greeting to Anthem.
Anthem often spent his free time amongst the open air of the crags, the time when his charge did not require his attention, when his claws were not required for battle. He found such times came often...he felt it an ill tiding. Still, he was here, long white wings stretched to take in every swirl and eddy of the wind's chaotic current. It takes him a moment to realize the hoot is not simply part of the wind's melody, but he halts when he does, his wings flicking to and fro to still him and keep him aloft. He returns the owl's gaze, and waits for the visitor to do more.
"Hi there!"
Anthem's gaze goes flat at the Common greeting and shakes his head. Couldn't anyone speak a real language here? Still, he figured it couldn't hurt to be courteous, and spoke the tongue of those above. "I am sorry...though I would llike to greet you, I cannot speak in your tongue."
Lunauga listens to the funny words in amazement. He was amazed because he could understand them, and more amazed because he finds the words to respond, despite having never heard them before. "This is a strange way of talking," Lunauga replies in the griffon's language. "Where'd you learn it?"
Anthem blinks as the owl responds without missing a beat, wondering if he had finally found someone to speak with. His voice fills with pride at the owl's question. "I have had the pleasure of learning it from my birth. It is the only language spoken in my home; where I had hatched, your tongue would be strange."
"Really? Where are you from?"
"I," Anthem says, his pride only growing, "Come from the house of the Light, the very place which He created for His servants to rest and watch the world below them. The sun always shines upon you, and the horizons stretches into infinity...that is my home. Where do you hail from?"
Lunauga is slightly taken aback. "I lived in a tree," he says. "But it was a really good tree! It was tall and the leaves were really green and in autumn they turned these amazing colors. It's... well it's not as neat as your home sounds, but I like it plenty."
Anthem watches Lunauga while he tells about his own home. Though his beak does not move, one could swear he was smiling. "Home is always a special place, regardless of its beauty. Were I able to visit mine, I would show you...but it doesn't matter. Trees, you said? What brings you so far? There are hardly any forests for miles...do you serve another, as well?"
Lunauga blinks. "I don't know what you mean..."
Anthem seems to struggle with finiding an alternative way to phrase his question...as if he had never needed to, before. "Are you here to...help someone?"
"Oh!" Lunauga says, understanding immediately. "Yeah! Sorel's my friend. I help him out. Although I haven't been around much lately... You'd like Sorel. He talks like you do."
A flash of interest shines in Anthem's eyes. "Really? I expect that we might have much to speak on, then...it's so difficult to find anyone to talk with around here, but I expect my voice will be used a great deal more in the coming days."
"Yeah. I don't know if he knows your language, though. There's probably some way around that. He knows a lot of magic. So you're Gail's friend?"
Anthem's puffs out his chest at the mention of his master. "I am more than that. I am the wings that carry Her to battle, and the claws that join Her sword when felling the unjust. When She has need of me, I am there, with nothing more than a thought between us. My ancestors have had the proud privilege of being servants to His holy messengers on earth. My heart is overjoyed that I now join them in their brave lineage."
"Does everyone talk like that where you're from?"
"Yes, of course. How else would they speak?"
"I don't know, you talk... big? No wonder you don't talk much. You must get so tired."
Anthem glances at Lunauga for a while, trying to judge the intent behind the owl's words. It is a full ten seconds before he speaks again. "I beg your pardon?"
"Sorel says it's rude to beg," Lunauga says. "Where's Gail?"
Anthem's feathers ruffle at the comment, and his beak opens wide in indignation...to close with a repressed growl. "The chapel...she's in the chapel."
"Neat!" Lunauga says, starting to arc back towards the fort. "Look at it. Why do you think they do things like that?"
Anthem stares at the tiny toy structures for a moment, taking time to pick out all the little people walking in between them. "Why do we build roosts?"
"Because our eggs would roll away if we didn't!" Lunauga says. "Everyone knows that. What about my question?"
Anthem looks to the owl, and sound like a laugh comes from his throat. It feels far too rough for it. "I think...they build them to feel safe."
"Safe from what?"
"Anything. Everything. That's the kinds of creatures they are...if they could fly, many would not want to."
"That's weird," Lunauga says. "People are weird."
Anthem remains quiet as the two remain hovering against the wind's forceful current. "Let's speak again, someday," he says as his wings reach out and he gives into the flow of the air.
"Okay! Bye!" Lunauga says, before flying in the opposite direction, looking for a place where he can finally get some sleep.

Posted by: Cyrus Mon Mar 31, 2008 10:25 am
Later that evening, Lunauga sets down outside the chapel, peering through the windows. "Gail?" he calls. Gail sits in one of the lacquered pews that frame the chapel's hallway, two clasped hands resting on her bowed head. Her eyes open when she hears her name, and she looks up and down the hall, finally turning to glimpse Lunauga through the windows. "Lunauga? What's wrong?"
"What?" Lunauga says, surprised. "Something's wrong?"
Gail blinks at the Owl's exclamation, before sighing with a smile. "No...nothing's wrong. Hold on, I'll come out to meet you." With that, she hurries from the window, and after the dry creak of heavy hinges, she appears outside. "What did you want to talk about?"
"I was talking to Sorel a few nights ago, and he was telling me about all the things that I'd missed. But he sounded weird at parts, like he didn't remember, and he had to go back and correct himself. I was wondering if you could tell me what happened?"
Gail frowns at Lunauga's explanation, though she stills nods at the request. "Alright...I can't promise anything, but I can try to help, at least. What did he say happened while you were away?"
Lunauga starts to talk. "Well it started back on Grans Island. Apparently the Doctor died! Then Sorel picked up this statue and it made him weak and slow. And something about Kria and her village, he was sort of hazy there. Then there was this huge battle at a devil fort! Sorel says everyone fought really well, although he didn't tell me about the stuff he did..."
Gail steps back at the sheer amount of words that spill from Lunauga's beak, and she holds up her hands to the owl. "Lunauga!" she shouts over him, waiting to see if it reached him before she continues. "Please...I can't keep up with you when you speak so fast. I need you to calm down and tell me what you heard, piece by piece...then I can try and help."
Lunauga stops talking. "Oh," he says sheepishly. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Gail says with a grin, shaking her head. "Now...Let's start with the first thing you wanted to about."
"Did the Doctor really die?"
Gail stares at Lunauga when his question comes, the good humor draining from her face, before she gives a slow nod. "There was...a traitor among us when we marched on the Devil's fortress. We didn't know it at the time, but...she took my face, brought the Doctor away, and...killed him. Sorel was distracted by what he thought was a threat...when he realized what happened, it was too late." She pauses at the memory of the night, the sheer confusion and numbness, the silence the morning after. "She framed us...Gorrik, Mahler and I, made it look like we simply chose to slaughter him...She's gone, now."
Lunauga scratches at the ground in silence for a moment. "Oh..." He blinks. "That's terrible! I should go make sure he's alright!" Lunauga shakes his head. "No, no, I wanted to talk to you. Were you at the Devil Fort with Sorel?"
Gail starts after the Owl when he decides to check on the Doctor, but no sooner does she then Lunauga shakes off the thought, asking Gail another question. She gives a simple nod to it.
"What did he do? He wouldn't tell me?" Lunauga laughs a little. "Did he fall down? I bet he looked silly and doesn't want me to know."
A hand covers Gail's lip for a moment, a sigh coming before she answers. "Sorel...before we were able to enter the walls, Sorel was...he died." She pauses at this, wonders if it was right to tell him about this. "Days before, he...he made me promise...promise to help him when he lead us into battle. We were side by side, that day...and yet, I couldn't help him when he needed me." She remains silent for a moment longer. "Max revived him, though...and lately, he seems so vital...so really, I don't think it's anything to worry...about," she says, a weak smile appearing halfway through, before it falls, unable to stand on its own.
Lunauga doesn't say anything. He continues to stare at Gail.
Gail returns the stare, before it breaks, the paladin shrinking away from Lunauga. "I'm sorry...that was a...heartless thing to say." She glances at the owl, failing to meet his eyes head-on. "Was there...anything more you wanted to discuss?"
"What?" Lunauga says abruptly. "Oh. I don't know." His eyes begin to shimmer in the dark, as if they were filling with water. "Was there... did any other bad things happen?"
Gail's golden eyes raise to look into Lunauga's own, watching while they slowly became glossier and sparkling. She contemplates telling him the truth. "No...no, everything else was...fine."
Lunauga blinks once, and the water vanishes. "Oh. That's good. I'm going to go fly around now. Sorry to bother you, Gail."
Gail shakes her head, forcing a smile to show. "It...It wasn't a bother at all. Thank you for coming."
Lunauga flies away, towards the mountains.
Gail waves goodbye to her avian friend before turning around to enter the chapel once more. She returns to the pew she had been praying in before, resuming her work with her faith. In the small bits of moonlight the tall painted windows allow, one can make out the glisten of water running down her cheek.

Posted by: Kaihaku Tue Apr 01, 2008 2:48 am
"This campaign is for the birds." Cedric remarks quietly. EDIT: ...and I'm suddenly glad I chimed in. ((There was a post around here, I swear there was, in which Sophie berated Coventry and then Gail showed up. Vox commented on it...so where is it? I feel like I'm going mad...
Well, here's the follow-up to that post, not as good without the previous scene. I guess.))
Gail follows her friend, pausing only when she glimpses the tower that was Alastor's destination. Her brow furrows in confusion at the massive construct that seemed to simply jut out of the mountainside...How did she not notice that before? Shaking her head at how the building seemed to simply spring to life, Gail continues her measured pursuit.
The Doctor continues on, his steps slowing as his breaths become more ragged. He steps into a circular doorway at the base of the tower and vanishes into the inky darkness within. A moment later, a light shines revealing a small chamber with furniture formed from the very stone. The Doctor stands holding his hands over a candle resting on a stone table.
The clack of soft boots on hard stone comes after the Doctor lights his way, the silver-haired maiden appearing in his doorway. "Alastor."
The Doctor turns to look at her wearily, leaning on the table unsteadily, "Yes?"
Gail pauses at the response, choosing to stare at him. "I'm not sure you'll accept it...you most likely don't even want me here...but if there's anything I can do to help, I...I would like to try."
The Doctor returns her stare for a long moment, then gestures for her to enter while he turns back to the table.
Gail smiles in small relief and she enters the tower proper, reaching into the pouch at her side to pull forth a pair of plain white bracers, each emblazoned with a red symbol of a staff entwined by two serpents. She clasps them to her wrists before laying glowing palms upon the Doctor, the symbol on the bracers shining while she concentrates on the act. After a moment, she opens her eyes, meeting the Doctor's eyes and waiting for a reply.
The Doctor closes his eyes as the sacred energy coursing through him, he lets out a heavy breath as the dark circles fade away from beneath his eyes. He opens his eyes, touching her palm with a smile, "Thank you." Reaching into his bag, he turns to set two mugs on the table, crushing some dried herbs into them and whispering words under his breath. He gestures over the mugs, then hands one to the paladin, "You should…really think twice before offering to help me…" He turns to look into her golden eyes, "I'm quite shameless… You might regret it."
"I've never asked to be thanked," Gail says with a warm smile, taking the drink in hand. "I've grown too used to you to expect it." She chuckles to show how she means that, before she looks away for a moment. "Besides...if you were so shameless, you would never even look at me...even if I helped you."
"You're…quite delightful…" The Doctor answers after a moment with a smile, "Please, you aren't done helping me yet." He gestures to a long shelf of stone stretching along one side of the chamber, "Have a seat."
Gail nods, taking the offer...but shifts around, as if unable to get comfortable. Standing, she reaches into the pouch once more and brings out a beige blanket, folding it in half before placing it on the minimalist interpretation of a bench. She returns to her previous position, and smiles, the results being much more satisfactory, then looks up to the doctor.
"Oh, not very comfortable is it?" The Doctor asks with a wry smile as the paladin sets out her cushion, "Let me…" He speaks words of power and gestures at the stone… The smile fades from his face as he gestures at the stone again, a heaviness setting over his features, "…I…didn't realize it was quite that…" He shakes his head, taking a seat heavily on the stone shelf beside her, "You said you would help me…" The Doctor states wearily, "Well, I just fought off a swarm of vampires… I'm…freezing…and exhausted…thinking thoughts I'd rather…" He sighs, "My ring… I didn't think about the dead field… It won't work again for a week…" He turns his head to look at her, "So help me."
Setting his mug on the stone, he pulls a long blanket from his bag and wraps up in it, leaning against the shoulder of the paladin, "Tell me a story. A nice…happy story…"
Kai: No frost salamanders.
Gail listens to the Doctor while he speaks, a hot blush colouring her face when he leans on her, though it dissipates at his request. The paladin closes her eyes for a moment, pondering, before she turns back. "I have to warn you...I don't know many happy tales...and the one I'm thinking of won't...it won't start happy."
"We'll have to work on that…later… " The Doctor replies quietly, staring down at the stone floor, "Life doesn't start happily…your story doesn't have to either…"
Gail stares at Alastor for a moment, before nodding at his words, and with a deep, calming breath, she begins.
"Once...in a place and time not far from here and now, there lived a young girl. She was born with many gifts, though they were not ones you can hold: a bright mind and a gentle face would bring more to her than all the gold in all the nations of the world. She had little growing up; a father who brought home little money, and a mother who watched the house, but what mattered was they had each other. In time, that was taken from her, a plague lying them both in bed, and then in the earth. It was too soon for such a thing...she could not care for a house, so no one would marry her, and she did not know how to make money, so she could not support herself. She spent her days struggling to feed herself, care for herself...and in her nights, she gave voice to the tears that were kept silent when her neighbors were awake. She prayed to the heavens, as she was taught to do, begged for them to intervene with her own demise, to send something to help her live one more day. On one such day...her prayer was answered."
"That day, there came to her door a tall, red-haired man, with vivid green eyes and a strong smile."
"Sorel?" The Doctor asks quietly.
"What? No..."
"Oh..." He mumbles, "...sounds like Sorel..."
"He explained he was a traveler, on his way to some other country when he heard of some distress, and came to see if he could help. He had heard of her despair: how she had trouble cooking for herself, cleaning for herself, making enough money to get through the day...things he had to learn when he was tossed into his life. He explained that he would take no reward, and he would not stay long...just enough for the girl to stand by herself. IT was wrong, he said, for anyone to be in that kind of suffering. The girl was unable to answer, did not know what to think...was this man crazy? Was he safe? The more she looked upon him, though, the more she felt she could trust him...and thus, she opened the door and let him in."
The Doctor leans closer as Gail continues her story, cuddling up to the paladin...at this point of the tale, he interrupts the teller of tales, "I don't like how this story ends..." A deep sorrow crosses his face, as he leans even more on the holy knight, "They should have been together forever..." His eyes narrow as he suddenly grasps at the paladin, pinning her to the stone wall, "Like we will be!" Then he leans forward and plunges his fangs into her neck!
[Grapple: 20 + 12 + 2 + 16 DI = 50(60)]
[2 Con drain]
Gail gasps as the fangs sink into her veins, drawing precious blood from her body...and yet, there is a serene smile on Gail's face. "Forever," Gail repeats, her skin blanching to the color of bone while tears well up in her now dulled eyes, "Oh, Alastor...You've made me so...so happy." The vampire angel then breaks the Doctor's hold and returns it with a crushing embrace, plunging her own new fangs into Alastor's neck with joy.
Elsewhere...
Popcorn dropped from Derrik's fingers as his hand froze in the middle of carrying the snack to his mouth, his jaw dropped at the scene displayed on the big screen TV.
"Hey boss," Yin whispered with a wince. "They... They DO know that vampirism was a metaphor for..." Yin trails off.
"Then didn't they just... She just..." Yang managed to get out, his face twisting into an odd expression. Derrik slammed a big red button on the remote control.
"Saved!" Derrik shouted. "Forever and ever! Yin, go make a copy of this and put it into the blackmail section. This one's going into the archives."
...
"No one deserves…deserves to…" The Doctor begins quietly as he reaches for his mug from which thin tendrils of steam are beginning to rise, then he pauses, "It's a terrible feeling…to be truly alone…" He wraps his hands around the mug and stares down at the steam reflectively, continuing in a soft whisper, "I thought you were going to tell me a happy story…this one is heartbreaking…" He slumps against the wall, sliding away from the paladin a little, "There's happiness in it…but only for a season…and that makes the end all the more wretched…"
Gail stares at Alastor while he moves away, grimacing at his protest against the story. The paladin falls quiet for a moment, shying away from the Doctor herself. "What makes you think that it's ended?"
"Of course..." The Doctor replies sardonically, standing to his feet and letting the blanket fall from his shoulders, "There's always the future." He walks over to the table in the center of the room, setting down his mug and leaning heavily on the cold stone, his back to the paladin, "If you can spare a few hours...surely, someday he'll be able to spare her a moment or two..." He lets out a wretched laugh, continuing with increasing bitterness, "Once all that needs to be done is done, then there will be time...someday..." He shakes his head softly, "Was it his right? To first give and then take the two most important things in the world from her? He's like..." He interrupts himself, "No...where Oihane was a coward and Sorel unknowing, Michael is neither... I wonder, is he even capable of feeling fear? What about concern... worry... remorse... love... Those troublesome...worthless...emotions that get in the way of duty..."
Gail weathers the Doctor's words and tries to find some of her own, struggling to defend her father and, in a sense, herself. She finds no words worth speaking, though, instead only hears the echo of the Doctor's words, of her mother's so many years ago, of her father's the one time he came to her. The vision enters her eyes, white light streaming from the stained glass window while a voice called to her. She remembers how the figure captured in the glass had changed, and how she knew who is was before he spoke. She remembers what he said. The maiden slumps on the bench, her head hanging after she relives the scene, staring into the cup in her now cold hands. "I should have made him promise," she whispers, more to herself than to anyone.
Alastor continues to sag forward over the stone table, his head sinking, as if something were weighing him downward. He remains standing there, his back to the starblessed maiden, in heavy silence for a long moment, either missing the words of the paladin or choosing not to answer them. Finally, he lets out a worn breath and says in a heavy voice, "I'm...I'm tired." He unclenches his fists, "I...I've wanted to hear...your account of...what happened...since she first told me." He slowly stands and turns back to her, his eyes dulled, "I...just wasn't...ready for it. Not..." A sad and tired smile crosses his face, "Please...finish." He retakes his seat, looking at her gravely.
Gail only raises her eyes when Alastor takes his seat once more, staring at him as if she had forgotten what she was about to say. Her eyes fall for a moment, and she sets the cup on the floor, lingering hunched over for a moment. Then, she pulls herself up, giving Alastor a weak smile as her hand reaches out for his. She then takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and begins.
"Days passed into weeks, which passed in months, and still he stayed. He taught her all he had promised, and more: when she found out he was a painter, he bought canvas and oils to teach her. When she found out he was a poet, he recited to her his works and encouraged her to write some of her own. When she had impressed him with her cooking, he taught her delicacies he had obtained from his travels, and how she could make any dish her own. Then, after three months had passed, she woke up alone."
Alastor shifts silently, turning his hand to clasp that of the maidens and squeeze it, though his eyes remain focused on her.
"She found nothing taken from her, and all the belongings he gave her lay where they were, along with a sack brimming with gold coins. She fretted at this, wondering what had occurred to make him leave so suddenly, when she remembered that he had said. Had she fulfilled his expectations? What did he expect her to do like this? She sat at the table, simply staring at the pouch on the table...before she poured the coins on the table, took some in hand, and went to buy what she needed to make breakfast. Two weeks passed like this, the girl buying only enough to get by, paying taxes and tithes as they came...at the end of it, she found she had spent everything, with no way to earn more. Distraught and tired, she sat up worrying what she was going to do, before she fell asleep at the table. She awoke to the sound of footsteps behind her, and whirled around to the traveler, wearing a simple, contented smile."
cyrus: Almost did something really not right, there...
Kai: Did he take off her blouse? That's not angelic.
"The girl felt as if a wave had struck her, awash with anger, shock, fear...but nothing compared to the happiness she felt at his return. She asked why he had not written about his absence, a question he avoided and waved off like nothing had happened, but a question she continued to ask. He folded, and told her that he could not read or write...his birth never allowed him to learn, and all his poems were ones he memorized from lands far away. The girl stared at him then, seeing the man who she thought was perfect had a weakness, and in that moment, she offered to teach him."
A very small smile crosses Alastor's face at this.
"The traveler was taken back at the reversal of roles...and agreed, not one to refuse such a request. For as well worn as he had been, though, he found the most rudimentary lessons difficult, and sometimes wondered why he was putting himself through this. All it took was a look back to the girl who was his teacher, and he pressed on. It would take a year to teach him fully, and throughout that time, he continued to leave...though, no matter how simple or childish his message was, from that day on, under the small pouch of money he would leave would be the comfort of a note that promised he would come back." She falls silent at this, shaking her head after a moment's pause. "I'm sorry...I think my story's gotten a little off track. Should I try to tell it again?"
Alastor looks at the maiden and half raises his free hand to her, then he pauses and lowers it, "No. I like...ending it here. Happy..." He bows his head reverently to her, "For now." He looks into her golden eyes, "...though, when the time comes, I do want to hear this tale from beginning to end." His smile widens, "I want to hear all your tales."
Gail's own small smile brightens. "Then we'll end here...and Alastor," she says, her other hand joining the clasped pair, "If you want to hear all of my stories...Then I'd love to tell you them...Every single one."
"I'd like that..." Alastor nods, "Though, you should drink your tea before it gets cold."
Gail turns to the cup sitting ignored on the floor, picking it up and looking into the liquid with a furrowed brow. "It can't be..." The maiden then takes a sip, and is surprised by the drink's warmth. "But it started out..." She looks to Alastor with a confused frown. "What did you...?"
Alastor chuckles, winking mysteriously, "That's my secret."
Gail blinks at this, before she breaks into a smile with a shake of her head. "It's a good secret, then..." She looks to the drink with a sigh. "I made Zook spend all that time making something to do what you can do with a thought...I suppose I know better, now."
"Hmmm..." Alastor asks, "I guess you have the secret now, what did you have the gnome build?"
Gail backs away from Alastor at the question, realizing what other kinds of questions would follow it, and decides, with a sigh, to start at the beginning. "Alastor...do you remember what you made me promise...the things you said I needed to do to take some time being a human again? Well...I've only fulfilled one of those things," she says, motioning to the forest green dress she was wearing. "There's still one more promise I need to complete...and I had him build something to help with that." At this, she places the cup away and opens the pouch at his belt, drawing forth a topped wicker basket. She flips up one of the tops to reveal a clay tea kettle, the sound of sloshing water coming as she lifts it up to reveal metal plating on the bottom, and wires running to a switch that connected them. "It's supposed to heat up tea whenever we want it...Which brings me to something that I want to ask you." She sets down the kettle and takes a calming breath, so that she doesn't blush when she asks the question. She does, anyway. "Alastor Coventry...will you give me the pleasure of a date?"
Kai: The Doctor dies.
Alastor lets out a weak chuckle and shakes his head, looking down at the stone, "I..." He breathes, "You..." His chuckle grows to a laugh, "Why Lady Hauberkt, I would be delighted." He looks at her with a mischievous smile, "Though...what exactly did you have in mind?" He arches an eyebrow, "I wouldn't consider fighting vampires a date...else I'd have to question my taste."
Gail watches the Doctor as his joy grows with his laugh, a warm smile showing through at his acceptance. She shakes her head at his comment, "That wasn't what I had in mind...too complicated. I wanted something simple, so I decided on a picnic...Find a place where we can see the sunset, and enjoy a late lunch. That was all." She then looks at the ceiling above. "Does this tower have another floor?"
"...well, I want to say that sounds delightful." The Doctor teases, "But before I make such a commitment, there's something I need to know...who made the food?"
"I asked Brother Hal what would be appropriate for this...but I bought everything myself, and there wasn't much to make. You can take a look at it all, if you like...make sure I didn't accidentally poison anything," Gail says with a teasing grin.
"...well then, I'd be delighted." The Doctor smiles, "I don't know that the top of the tower is the best picnic spot though..."
Gail reaches for the kettle sitting on the smooth granite floor, putting it back in its proper place in preparation for the event before looking back at Alastor."Where would you like to go, then?"
"I'm at your mercy." The Doctor smiles.
Kai: I should have gone with a corny "Anywhere that has you."
Gail pauses for a moment, pondering where would be best, before she grabs the scattered blankets and folds them on top of the basket, hooking her arm under its own to bring the bundle with her when she stood. "Do you feel up to taking a short walk, then?"
Alastor merely smiles in reply, hopping to his feet.
Gail shows a warm smile, then simply waves for Alastor to follow while she leaves the Tower.
Alastor takes a moment to follow, pausing to pull out the candle on the table, but he easily catches up with the paladin.
((I cut out some of the longer ooc chit-chat because I might edit this post again if I ever find the first half. Its still whole in the "Teller of Tales" thread.))

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Tue Apr 01, 2008 2:19 pm
"Well," Gilliam says, tromping towards Sorel. "I never figured you as one for cosmetics, Sorel." Sorel glances over at Gilliam. He smiles slightly, though he seems slightly confused. "Hello, Gilliam. What are cosmetics?" Gilliam is silent for a moment, Sorel gets the feeling if he had a face, he'd be making an expression. "Cosmetic. It's an adjective. Change on the outside. And you've changed a great deal on the outside, my friend."
TheUnknownMarine: "YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME!" Sorel roars. "WE'RE NOT FRIENDS! WE'RE NOT BROTHERS! WE'RE NOTHING!"
TheUnknownMarine: lol
"Oh," Sorel says. "Yes, I suppose I have. Are you looking for someone to polish you?"
Gilliam chuckles. "If I was... Ah, no that's a terrible joke. Back to my original question, I was asking why you changed your appearance. I never figured you as one to care about such things."
"I did not do so voluntarily," Sorel says. "At least, I did not do so intentionally. It happened during meditation. I am not entirely sure why. I can easily appear my age, but it feels like a transformation, like I am wearing another's skin."
Gilliam is silent for a while. "That is entirely different than what I thought you did, though far more in line with your character. So you feel younger as well? The change isn't cosmetic then."
"I do," Sorel says. "I feel better than I have since I was twenty. Better even than that, perhaps."
"Curious. Is it too personal to ask what meditation triggered this shift?" Gilliam asks.
"I was reflecting on things I had done and seen in my youth," Sorel repsonds. "From my childhood, and my adolescence. My time in the Fairy Woods. It was a fairly fragmented meditation, I am not sure what could have prompted it."
Gilliam is silent again for a while. "As you say."
"What about you?" Sorel asks. "I have not spoken to you in quite some time. Have you met with many of the others?"
"Some of them. The last week or so I've kept mainly to myself, but that should change soon," Gilliam says. "I was going to comment early that I found it funny you changed on the outside while I changed on the inside. The irony is no longer there if yours was more than a cosmetic change, though."
"Reality has a way of impeding humor," Sorel says. "Tell me about your change."
"Returning to Megiddo... forced me to confront things I was all too happy to forget about, or things I was all too miserable to remember daily," Gilliam says, quietly. "It made me reassess my priorities, and talking with some of the others helped further."
"Who did you speak to?" Sorel asks.
Gilliam laughs. "With all the holy and wise men accompanying our group... It was Kria that approached me. Perhaps it was better than way, I doubt I'd have gone looking for help. No..." Gilliam stops himself. "It was Kria and the Doctor I spoke with."
Sorel smiles. "You could not ask for better counselors, I think. The wisemen are rarely of much use to one another. What did you learn?"
"Not so much what I learned as what direction my thoughts were shifted to take," Gilliam says. "Looking back to the past is useful for planning the future... but to do nothing but look to the past is to turn your head from life... and towards death."
"I've looked far into history for long enough. I've mourned for lifetimes. What I did realize though, was that I was a part of this world as well as the old. And I was ignoring the present in favor of a past that was dead."
"And a future you could yet help to shape," Sorel adds in a soft voice. "It is good to hear you say that."
"Indeed, it is good to be thinking it," Gilliam says. "I have a few last things to take care of... and then I can return to my old body as you have returned to your older, younger one."
"Is there anything I can do to help you, Gilliam?" Sorel asks.
"Nothing you wouldn't have already done, but I thank you for asking," Gilliam says. "Just be ready when the time comes to put Orin... the Swarm to rest."
"I will be," Sorel says.
"Thank you. And you?" Gilliam asks. "Is there anything I could help you with?"
Sorel thinks for a moment. "I..." He shakes his head. "No, thank you."
"Well, it's your decision. The offer will stand, regardless," Gilliam says.
"Thank you for that," Sorel says.
"Very welcome," Gilliam says. "It was good talking to you if that's all," Gilliam says, begining to turn around.
Once again Sorel bites back a request. "It was good talking to you as well."
TheUnknownMarine: "I will now roll my sense motive."
Gilliam heaves a tired sigh. "I wasn't going to say anything because it's your right to decide whether you want help, but you should know that whatever's bothering you won't be much of a bother to bother other people with it." Gilliam turns back to Sorel. "Indeed, often times people like to help, it makes them feel useful, and in any case you've helped others more than enough times to earn a store of favors. So again, are you SURE there's nothing I can help you with?"
VoxPVoxD: wow
VoxPVoxD: really laying it on thick there
Sorel sighs. "I do not need help in dealing with him. I simply would prefer not to. Thank you."
"With who? The Doctor?" Gilliam asks.
"The Friar," Sorel replies.
"Hal?" Gilliam asks, surprise. "What did he do, burn your scones?"
"Suffice it to say I greatly underestimated how irritating it is to have a well-intentioned wiseman meddling in my affairs. Had I known, none of you may ever have heard a peep from me."
"Have you tried simply telling him that your trials are yours to deal with, and that it cheapens your struggle to have another intervene?" Gilliam asks. "I personally think that argument is hokum, but even if you don't believe in it, it's a nice way to get some privacy." Gilliam suddenly breaks into laughter.
"Twice now," Sorel responds. "I think he knows that the argument is hokum. No doubt he has heard it nearly as often as I have." Sorel frowns. "Something funny?"
"I just realized here is another irony... am I taking the role of wiseman in giving you advice on how to get rid of meddling wisemen?"
"Despite my best efforts to deter you," Sorel says, nodding gravely. "You have all the makings of a great sage, not the least of which is an irritating persistence."
"Well, I already have the advanced age going for me, might as well make the best of it," Gilliam nods.
"Indeed."
"Well, I don't want to open another front in this wiseman war you've got going on, so perhaps I will refrain from dispensing advice for you," Gilliam says. "I will wish you the best of luck, however. If I think of some particularly ingenious solution to your plight, I might bring it to you, though."
Sorel smiles slightly, nodding. "Thank you."
"Welcome again," Gilliam says. "Perhaps we should simply have Kria follow him around, I doubt even he could keep up with the talk. The Doctor could take second shift."
Sorel laughs. "He has done nothing to merit such punishment. But I will take that into consideration..."
Gilliam chuckles and waves a metal hand. "Farewell."
"Farewell."

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Wed Apr 02, 2008 6:34 am
With the mess hall still under construction, a long line files towards a huge pot of bubbling soup. Zook takes a chipped poreclain bowl and waits in line, clicking his tongue in rapid rhythm to pass the time. "Taking a break from tinkering around?" Jim asks, noting the gnome in front of him.
Zook looks up at Jim. "I suppose. A gnome's got to eat."
"True enough," Jim says, tapping his fingers against his bowl. "I heard that in addition to the Fort and you aircraft, you took on another project. A book."
"What?" Zook says, moving down the line. "Where'd you hear about that?"
"Someone's seen you scribbling late at night in something that wasn't a blueprint. Word got around the camp," Jim says, moving along with the line. "Why, is it not true?"
Zook grabs a spoon and a hunk of bread. "No, it's true, it's just-- I don't know, seems like sort of an odd thing for people to talk about, I guess."
"People find things to talk about other than fighting in wartime. Anything at all helps keep up morale, and you're a minor celebrity here from what I can gather," Jim says, plucking an apple from a basket of fruit and plopping it on his plate as he took a spoon as well. "What's the book about?"
Zook stands on tiptoe, holding his bowl up so soup can be ladled in. He settles onto his heels carefully. "It's sort of a combination war journal and textbook, I suppose. It's a diary of things we've seen and done, and a place to get my thoughts down about them, and a place to flesh out the theoretical grounding for my work."
"Sounds interesting. When all this is done, I might like a copy as a souvenir. You intend to publish?" Jim asks, receiving his soup and moving on.
"I'm not sure," Zook says. "Depends on how it ends." He finds a seat at a sparsely populated table.
Jim sits down across from the gnome with a sigh. "Well... That's a given."
"I don't think there are any givens at this point," Zook says, spooning soup into his mouth.
"Touche," Jim says, taking a bite out of his apple. "This situation is a tad odd even by our standards."
"Too-shay?" Zook says, looking at Jim with an odd expression.
Jim raises an eyebrow, then nods in understanding, swallowing his bite of apple before responding. "Touche. Sorry, old Terran word. Sparing you the details, it means 'good point' in this context."
"Oh." Zook looks down at his soup for a moment. "Any word on Mechanis?"
"Well, we know they're not in Prompt, and they don't seem to be on Parmecia," Jim says with a sigh. "We're checking the Rune area now."
Zook nods. "I wonder if the Cult's made them a target."
"You have more experience with them than I do."
Zook shrugs. "I guess it comes down to whether the Cult knows where they are. Given the way they've spread out and attacked or infilitrated virtually every potential source of real resistance, it wouldn't surprise me if Mechanis was in much the same shape as Prompt." He sighs. "Although that might just be optimistic."
"Optimism is preferable to pessimism in many cases," Jim, trying a spoonful of the soup.
"If you're good at fooling yourself," Zook mutters. "So what do your lot do with their time? I don't see them around much."
"Optimism and pessimism have their uses both, and too much of either is trouble," Jim comments, reaching for his apple again. "Well, everyone trains for two hours a day, other than that it's different for everyone. I know Sheila's off running around and exploring or talking to people, Melissa's probably training still, Varro's probably patrolling," Jim says, tapping the bottom of the apple on the table. "I'd guess that Vil is messing around with a new gadget or program."
"Hmm," Zook mumbles, mentally reaching around for something to talk about. "Your engineer, what's his name? The one I saw peeling carrots in the kitchen this morning."
Jim sighs. "Ah yes, that would be Adam... He has the dubious honor of doing all the kitchen's dirty work after making a few comments that were... unwise during a briefing." Jim frowns. "Viletta also has that duty for skipping out on training the other day."
"What'd he say?"
Jim's eyes narrow a little. "He basically equated myself to a pimp, and the females of the unit to... Well, it was a rather tasteless joke."
Jim takes a drink from his canteen.
Zook stares blankly at Jim. "You've got him holed up in the kitchen doing grunt work because he made a joke?"
"An insulting one," Jim says. "If it was just a joke, that would be fine. Hell, if it was an insult when he was off duty it might've slid. But you don't call people pimps and prostitutes during a briefing."
"Huh." Zook eats some more soup. "I guess paladins are pretty much the same everywhere."
"That's a rather sweeping generalization," Jim comments.
"Yep," Zook says, reaching for his bread.
Jim shrugs, finishing off his soup.
Zook finishes his food, his eyes darting along the grain of the wooden table.
"Well, I'll notify you if we find Mechanis. Tell me if you decide to have the book published," Jim says, finishing his food and getting up. "Nice talking to you."
"Bye," Zook says, not looking up.

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Thu Apr 03, 2008 8:20 am
The morning after her talk with Lunauga, Gail seeks out the druid, last night's conversation still weighing on her mind. She finds him shortly after breakfast, near the vanishing city of tents she resided in. "Sorel...may we talk for a moment?"
Sorel looks up from his meditation upon hearing Gail's voice. He stands, then narrows his eyes slightly. "Your eyes..." he says.
Gail frets over the attention to her eyes, but the look is forced away by a soft chuckle and a weak smile. "Surely they aren't so strange...Your own appearance should cause much more of a stir, shouldn't it?" She chuckles again, a short-lived, nervous sound, before she looks to her friend again. "You...you look so much younger..."
Sorel opens his mouth to respond that his own transformation had occurred quite some time ago, before closing it, realizing that he didn't know how long Gail's eyes had been like that. "We have not spoken in quite some time."
"Two weeks," Gail responses, to give measure to the time away. She pauses when she realizes just how much time that is, how much they used to accomplish in that span. "That...that is quite a while, isn't it..."
Sorel nods. "Things have slowed since our numbers swelled so much. I have not spoken to..." he pauses for a moment. "I have not spoken to anyone recently. It has been very quiet."
"No one," Gail asks, her brow furrowed. "You can't mean...Mahler and Ombligo, even they haven't spoken to you?"
Sorel shakes his head. "Mahler has been very withdrawn. Ombligo... there are a great many other things to occupy his growing mind."
Gail stares at Sorel, her eyes not leaving him while she takes a seat next to the druid. "Has there been anything occupying your mind, Sorel?"
"Many things," Sorel says.
Gail watches Sorel for a moment, waiting for him to continue. When he doesn't, her eyes fall to the ground under her folded legs. "Lunauga spoke with me last night...He asked me what happened in the time he was gone, things that he asked you but said you didn't remember." The paladin closes her eyes. "I ended up lying to him."
"I know," Sorel says quietly. "So did I, at first."
"So...he knows everything that happened, then...What did he say, when he learned of it all?"
"He was angry, as you would expect. More at me than at you, because you told him more of the truth at first than I had. Still, I would not be surprised if he were to have words with you at some point." Sorel sighs. "He was hurt, and sad. He is a great deal like a child, in many ways."
The paladin's head bows to the earth, and she is silent. It is a long time before she speaks again, her voice only a whisper. "I couldn't stand to tell him...after all that happened, I...I wasn't able to even speak it. Trying to tell him reminded me of just what we faced...how our safety, our success was bought. I wanted to answer him, just say everything to him...he deserved to know as much as anyone else did...but I wasn't able."
Sorel reaches out, touching the underside of Gail's chin and tilting her face up to his. "You did nothing wrong," he says softly.
Gail meets Sorel's eyes, her own glinting in the sun, before she nods, brushing silver strands away from her face. "I know that...But even so, it...it feels like I failed him." She pauses, considering something, and shakes her head at the thought. "No...he knows now. That's all that really matters...regardless of who told him."
Sorel nods with an air of finality. "So," Sorel says. "You must have been very busy, to not come and see me in two weeks. Have you spoken to any of the others?"
Gail nods, a warm smile returning to her face. "I've spoken with many of the others...I even traveled with some of them, recently. Let's see...I went with Graigus to his temple, which was holding a tournament...I went with Enrick to hunt treasure...and Coventry helped me speak with my mother." She shakes her head at the last one, her eyes growing distant while the smile shrinks. "I...I never thought I'd be able to say that with a smile."
Sorel's eyes twinkle. "Have you been spending much time with the Doctor of late?"
Gail blushes at the question, shying away under her friend's stare. "It...He is around a lot. I mean, not just around me, but...Um..." She then falls quiet at her inabilty to speak a sentence in her defense, merely nodding in defeat.
Sorel laughs. "You look crushed. Surely it is not as bad as all that?"
"It...It isn't bad...I do like his company. It's...It's just..." The maiden sighs, covering her face with a hand while she mutters under her breath. "Why am I acting like this?"
Sorel smiles. "I would tell you, but I fear that would spoil it. You will find out on your own, I think."
Gail stares at Sorel, her brow knit in suspicion, but it fades with a soft sigh. "If you believe so...I suppose I have to take your word for it."
"Yes," Sorel says with mock sternness. "Yes, you do." He frowns. "But you are distracting the issue. You are telling me about people you already knew." He folds his arms with more false severity. "I demand to hear of the new people you have met in the two long weeks you could not find the time to visit me."
VoxPVoxD: there are three full forces of people she's met since the last time she talked to Sorel about anyone other than herself and Sorel
VoxPVoxD: and since she abandoned him for two whole weeks to go on wacky adventures and become Vampirella
cyrus: The Vampirella thing was kind of short. Did wonders for her bust line, though.
VoxPVoxD: I'm sure the Doctor appreciates that
VoxPVoxD: although how does Alisa's Legacy fit now
VoxPVoxD: wait, a TUM female hero
VoxPVoxD: probably still too big
cyrus: Magic Armor.
cyrus: As long as it's around the right size and shape, it conforms, I think.
VoxPVoxD: one would hope
cyrus: Raises questions about what happens with Dwarf Armor, though, since Dwarfs and most other humaniods are Medium...
cyrus: Whatever. What were we talking about?
VoxPVoxD: about how Gail is a jerk who never talks to Sorel anymore
VoxPVoxD: and all the people Gail would rather talk to than Sorel
cyrus: Oh, right...who are those people again?
VoxPVoxD: everyone not on the CW3 force?
Gail cowers in fake terror at Sorel's obvious authority, making sure to give a hurried nod before whispering "Yes, sir." The act doesn't last long, though, as she begins to ponder all those she had met. "Well...There's Sophia, Alastor's sister. She's so wise...I don't think she sees how much of an effect she has on those around her. She...can be impulsive, though...but her heart is in the right place. Then there was Enrick, who's...unflappable. He's a thrill-seeker by trade, and he has such fantastic stories to tell...There's Van, who lost his home while his group was fighting Shailtor, one of the Strife Lords. I...don't know much about him, sadly." She pauses again, trying to recall of those who she spent time with. "There's Merkass, and Faralon, and Hal...I can't imagine how many more I can meet. I'm already being pulled every way but down," she says with a chuckle.
"Sophia has a good head and a good heart," Sorel says. "The friar..." Sorel shakes his head. "I have not spoken to many of the others. I should make an effort to do so." He chuckles. "Do you remember our first day together? I think I had managed to speak to everyone between breakfast and dinner."
Gail nods, her smile turning gentle. "Yes...it seemed so much easier, then...now everyone has plans to get in order and so many things to do.." She stops as she comes to realize something. "I haven't spoken with Farain in so long..."
"Really?" Sorel says, frowning. "Perhaps you should do that next." Suddenly he chuckles. "And now here we are, making plans for something as simple as a conversation."
Gail returns the chuckle, shaking her head at the comment. "I suppose there's no helping it, is there? Even back when we first met, everyone had their own designs...it was just easier to set things in motion, with everyone so connected to one another."
"We were different back then," Sorel says quietly. "All of us."
Gail remains silent for a moment, her eyes fixed upon the remains of the tent city and the people still there, completing what few works they could before they, too, would move inside the castle proper. "Do you ever think anything like this would happen? Even something so distant as finding Max...when we began, I didn't believe it could be done. Now...we have this."
"It has gone as I expected, in a sense," Sorel says very quietly. Gail has to strain to hear him, although he isn't talking to himself. "I was a very old man when this began, Gail. In many ways, I was older then than now. I expected--" Here he stops, looking at Gail with the same expression he had looked at Lunauga last night, before lying to him. Sorel closes his eyes, and sighs.
"I expected to die on the expedition. To die and to remain dead." He is silent for almost a full minute.
"But at the same time, it has surprised me. You all have surprised me, amazed me, given me cause for admiration and to build true friendships. You more than most, Gail. You and the Doctor and Tanis and Ombligo. Everyone. I expected death, perhaps even longed for it, in a sense. What I did not expect was to find something to live for."
VoxPVoxD: that was kind of a mean thing to dump on you at 5:30 in the morning
cyrus: A little, yeah.
VoxPVoxD: you want to stop here and pick it up tomorrow?
cyrus: Yes. Yes I do.
Gail stares at Sorel in the silence that follows, stunned by her friend's declaration of how he expected to givehis life in the search. She struggles to find the words for what she felt, a rush of anger and sadness and pity at a man who was once awaiting death, who she failed to shield from it so many times. She doesn't voice those things, and they go. A genuine smile crosses his lips when she begins to speak on the feelings that stayed.
"Isn't that life's best work? Even when it seems that all purpose is gone, there remains a reason to stay: a task to see completed, a person to reach out to...and life never lacks of the opportunity. It can only be improved by what is done...and what comes from its passing."
"I do not know," Sorel says. "There is a saying in North Parmecia. 'Judge no man happy until he is dead'. I could not tell you what the best work of a life is. I am not sure that wisdom is mine for the asking. I think..." He sighs.
"I think that there is a kind of happiness that exists only while you are living, and another kind of happiness that exists only in memory, in the memory of happy things. I have a great many happy memories, and nothing will ever take them from me. What I did not expect to find again was the happiness of now. I have you to thank for that. You and the others."
Gail stares at Sorel for a long while, simply absorbing what he said in the silence that followed...then breaking into a radiant smile. "I have to thank you as well, then...thank you for all you've shown me and taught me. For being a friend to me, when I needed one." She then embraces him, holding him for a moment before breaking off, the smile still shining on her face.
cyrus v 2877: Smiled, Thanked him, Hugged him.
cyrus v 2877: I think they call this a hat trick.
Sorel is taken aback by the gesture, but he returns the embrace all the same. "I..." But he doesn't say anything else. Nothing else needed to be said.
Gail looks from Sorel to the barracks beyond, the little people surrounding still working and building, as they had been when they began talking. "I wonder...if we offered to help them, would they let us?" She stays, watching them a few seconds longer, and then stands, looking to Sorel with her bright gold eyes. "I should get going. It looks like it's going to be a busy day, if nothing else."
"I could not say," Sorel says. "Often people do not know they need help until after they have received it. He looks at Gail, emerald meeting gold. "Yes, it looks to be a busy day for me as well. There is something... something I need to do."
"Then I won't keep you waiting...and I'll make sure that the next time we talk, you won't have to wait so long." She chuckles, before giving him a cheerful wave and walking away. "Good bye, Sorel."
"Good bye, Gail."

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Thu Apr 03, 2008 8:46 am
Conversation: http://voxpvoxd.com/theunknownmarineislazyashell/InWarsInterval.mp3 The noise... Telanna rubs her temples. The woods had never been this noisy. The sounds of construction echoed and rattled off the high, sheer walls of the mountain pass. There was no escaping them. Vainly, Telanna set out to try. She heads out through the gate, bundled up for a long walk.
"Hey Tel!" a voice calls out to the young druidess from above.
Telanna looks up, trying to make out the voice and its source.
Telanna sees Sheila perched on the edge of the battlement, walking across the imposing wall, both arms out in the air for balance.
"Whatcha doin?" she asks.
Telanna waves at Sheila. "Going for a walk," she calls.
"Mind if I come with? I'm bored out of my brain!" Sheila says, jumping down from the thirty foot wall and hitting the ground in a roll, coming up perfectly fine.
((I was expecting to fail that, but I rolled a 19. : / I should have her try and climb a tree next.))
Telanna blinks at the acrobatic feat. "Uh... sure."
"Cool!" Sheila says, falling into step beside Telanna. "Bored too? Or just want to stretch your legs?"
"Trying to keep from getting a headache," Telanna says.
"Oh, sorry," Sheila says, turning around and leaving.
"Drank too much? Or not enough?" Sheila asks.
"I can't drink anymore," Telanna says. "It's the weirdest thing. Doesn't do anyting for me. Anyway, no, I'm just sick of all the hammering and banging and sawing and those weird mechanical noises."
"Oh, I see. Yeah, that's understandable," Sheila tilts her head. "You can't drink anymore? How'd that happen?"
"I don't know," Telanna says. "Like I said, it's weird. Ever since a year or two ago."
"Huh," Sheila says, frowning. "You might wanna get that checked out at some point."
Telanna shrugs. "Apparently it happens to lots of druids. I don't know, I should ask one of the others."
"Right, I'm sure Sor..." Sheila trails off wincing, before changing the subject. "Hey, don't you think it's a bit warmer today than yesterday? Maybe spring will come early?"
"Maybe," Telanna says. "I don't know what the weather's like up here in the mountains. In the Fairy Woods there'd usually be a warm spell or two before the real thaw." She shivers. "I hope they finish the bedrooms soon. It's way colder here than back home. Can't get away with sleeping outside when the weather's like this."
"I'm a little ticked we arrived when we did," Sheila says, putting her hands in her pockets. "I've got nothing against snow, but I always thought Rune looked a lot prettier in summer or autumn. Hey," Sheila says, tilting her head. "You're not cold now, are you? I mean like your tent and all. If it's too cold I can snag some warmers or thermal blankets and loan 'em to ya."
"You've been here before?" Telanna asks, surprised. She shakes her head. "No, I'm fine. I've got my tent and the kitchen is always warm. Plus there's no shortage of fire with all these mages around."
Sheila laughs. "I hear that! Yeah, I've been to Rune once or twice before. I really love it here." Sheila's smile fades a little. "Really blows every time I pop up it's because there's some war or madman we need to stop. One of these days I'm putting in for a vacation, and this'll be the first stop."
Telanna looks very confused. "How many wars or madmen have their been? How long have you been coming here?"
Sheila frowns. "Once or twice... Three times? No more than three, I think," Sheila nods. "Yeah. Once it was a crazy lich that tried to bend space and time to his will." Sheila taps her chin. "I can't remember exactly what it was the second time, except that it was rather minor and we ended up staying only for a week or so. Third time was a covert investigation of this one thing... can't say much about it, rules. Sorry," Sheila says, shrugging.
Telanna is silent for a moment. "You'd think people wouldn't be as surprised to see you if you've been so many times."
"Well, usually we're not as blatant about it, with the ships and all," Sheila says with a grin. "We can be sneaky when we have to! Eh... Besides, the interventions I've been on were on different Runes."
"Different...Runes...?"
Sheila winces. "Eh... It's complex. I've been to a different version of Rune. Like... A copy of this place."
Telanna stares blankly at Sheila. "What?"
"Ah geez," Sheila says, scratching the back of her head. "Nevermind, just trust me that there's a reason why no one knows about us."
"Alright..." Telanna says, looking like she had gotten a headache despite her best efforts to avoid one. "So... where are you from? You must have a home to go back to."
Sheila looks over the snow covered forest. "Not... really."
"Really? Where do you go when you're not on missions?"
"I kinda bum around the ship, or the base if I'm assigned to one," Sheila says, putting her hands behind her head. "Explore the cities and stuff if I'm off duty."
Telanna looks shocked. "But... but where did you grow up?"
Sheila doesn't answer the question. "Hey, you know since there's that big barrier and all up, we might be stuck here for a bit after all the fighting is done. While the mages, scientists, and bigwigs figure out how to get things back to normal."
Telanna stares at the ground with a troubled expression. "Yeah..."
"They might give all us troops leave time, then. A mini vacation. I think I'll tour the place. Wanna come with?" Sheila says, still looking away.
"I... yeah. That'd be nice," Telanna says, not looking up.
Sheila is quiet for a while as the walk continues.
"So..." Telanna says, reaching around for a new topic. "Have you talked to a lot of the others?"
Sheila turns to Tellana and frowns. "I've been trying to, but it's almost like some of them are avoiding me. Everyone's so busy it seems."
"I know the feeling," Telanna says.
"Talk to Sophie lately? Oh! That reminds me!" Sheila turns around. "I heard you took a trip to Saraband! I wish you'd told me, I'd loved to go!"
"It was Sophie's idea," Telanna says. "She said we might be going back. Maybe you could ask her to keep you posted. I actually haven't talked to her in a while."
"Oh," Sheila says, mollified. "Maybe I should talk to her too."
"Yeah, it feels like everyone's just been sitting around the last few weeks. Not a lot going on at the fort while everyone else is off on wacky adventures."
"I should have a wacky adventure!" Sheila says, punching her palm. "I heard the Doc's going off on treasure hunts. I should totally join him."
"Was that the time I saw him teleporting off with the man in weird green armor?"
"Wierd gree-" Sheila frowns. "Carrying a gun?"
Telanna thinks for a moment. "That's what you call the--" she holds out her arms, as if she were carrying an imaginary rifle. "Those things?"
"Yeah," Sheila says with a wince. "That'd be a rifle. There's also pistols, like mine," Sheila says, pointing to a holstered pistol on her hip. "Anyway, that wasn't a man. That was Melissa," Sheila says with a nod. "Though I have no idea what the Doc said to make her run off with him. Mel's about as strict on rules as they come."
Telanna's face burns, and she is very grateful that she cannot blush. "That-- that was-- oh, wow..."
"What? Why are you..." Sheila's eyebrow shoot up and she starts laughing hard. "Oh... Oh man! No... No, that's not what I meant!"
Telanna looks over at Sheila, clearing her throat and looking away. "I know what you meant," she says airily.
Sheila wipes away a tear. "I meant run off on their adventure. They tried to ransack a ruin or something, or so I hear. I don't think Melissa would know what a crush was if she drank a keg of love potion! Hooo," Sheila shakes her head, smiling. "Besides, I've my money on Gail."
"Your money on..." Telanna frowns. "I don't get it."
"Oh, Adam and I took out bets!" Sheila says with a grin. "A whole board of them! We bet on what we thought would happen before this whole war ended. I bet that Gail and the Doc would end up lovey dovey," Sheila says with a nod. "Adam bet that the Doc would end up with someone else."
"That's kind of a weird thing to bet on, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Sheila says with a nod. "I think Adam has a gambling problem sometimes."
"Yeah..." Telanna trails off.
"Hey, tell me a bit about the Elven Village, eh?" Sheila asks.
"What do you mean?"
Sheila shrugs. "I don't know, it seemed like a neat place and we were only there for a few days. What's something cool about it that we wouldn't know just from that one visit?"
"Well, ordinarily there isn't all that rubble," Telanna says. "But other than that... Oh!" A warm smile crosses her face as she thinks of the memory. "Do you know what fireflies are?"
Sheila nods, happily. "Yep!"
"On summer nights in the fairy woods, the fireflies come out, and they dance around and it's like the woods are filled with these tiny buzzing stars. But that's not the best part," Telanna says. "The best part is when the fairies come out and dance with them. Fairies can glow in the dark too, like big fireflies, and it's so pretty to see them dancing around in a cloud of fireflies, it's like something you could see in the sky at night, but right in front of you."
"That sounds awesome," Sheila says with a sigh. "I hope we're stuck here long enough to see that."
"How long do you think it'll take?" Telanna asks. "To beat them?"
"Oh, to beat them?" Sheila says, frowning. "Well... At least a month. Probably more, since we've got to wait for all those allied armies to move up and hold what we take. It's the figuring out how to get home that's going to take a while," Sheila says with a nod.
"I'm sure Mitula will think of something, even if we don't. Now that the gods are free and gaining strength, it's only a matter of time, right?" Telanna says.
Sheila nods. "Right, right."
Sheila is quiet again for a while.
"You ever been to a city other than your home?" Sheila asks, at last.
"Well..." Telanna says. "I wouldn't really call the Elven Village a city. I was at Tristan a couple weeks ago. I guess that's it."
Sheila smiles a little and looks up at the sky. "The cities here... Oh, you can't appreciate what you have unless you've been without." Sheila smiles wider. "Here, whatever other problems they have, you go to a city and you know what you find?"
"What's that?"
"A whole mess of different people, working together," Sheila says. "Like... In most other worlds there's this giant gap between the various races. Culturally, diplomatically, whatever. They're all hemmed in their own kingdoms. There's a dwarf kingdom, and a human kingdom, and an elf kingdom, blah blah blah. Getting them to cooperate on anything is like pulling teeth. Half the time the races inherently distruct each other."
Sheila smiles. "Here... You walk into a city, and you can see elves, dwarves, humans, kyantol, halflings, and centaurs, all living and working together. I asked Jim about it once, he said it's called a full integration society. The point where, say, to your average human, an elf isn't an elf, just another person."
Sheila frowns. "He also said such unity probably came about due to the dire neccessity of mortals banding together against the demons during the apocalypse, but I prefer to focus on the result."
Telanna glances at Sheila. "How else would it be?"
Sheila blinks. "I just told you. Other places have all these rifts and huge divides between their peoples. Here there's only a handful of places like that, Bedoe being the worst of 'em."
"I thought you were just making it up," Telanna says. "Like a story. 'This is how bad things could get, so you better not act up'. One of those things."
Sheila grimaces and shakes her head. "Nononono... I've seen the places... No, if I wanted to scare you, I don't even have ta make somethin' up. I've visited one world where all the races were blood sworn to genocide on the others. Every last one trained from birth to hate everything that wasn't a human or elf, or what have you. It was madness."
"That's horrible," Telanna says. "I'm glad we're not like that."
"So am I," Sheila nods, empathically. "As I said, I love this place. It's nice to deal with people that get along well for a change."
"Maybe you should move here after you're done fighting," Telanna says. "Or someplace like it, if there are places like that."
"Yeah..." Sheila smiles. "You may be right about that... I can think of one place that's known for such unity, anyway," Sheila grins. "Hey, maybe if I squirrel away enough loot here, I can get a summer home here! Come for vacations!"
"Another reason to go treasure hunting!" Telanna says brightly.
"Right!" Sheila says, snapping her fingers. "Hey, maybe I can buy a room from the guys that own the Fort! That way I'm right near everyone when I take a break, an' can catch up!"
"Only one way to find out," Telanna says.
"Right! That's a real good idea!" Sheila says, smiling at Telanna. "If I treasure hunt when I'm not on duty, I don't have to turn it in to the quartermaster or anything, so it's mine!"
"And it gives you a chance to talk to some of the others," Telanna says, nodding.
"Right again!" Sheila says with a grin.
"Oh, speaking of stuff I don't have to turn in," Sheila says with a grin. "Guess what I snagged from the Destonian mission?"
"What's that?"
"Enrick got me this really fancy dress to act as a disguise for when I snooped around the upper class, an' he let me keep it!" Sheila grins. "It's a bit much, but I was thinking on getting it altered a bit. Hey, if one of the kingdoms has a big celebration or something I might even get a chance to try it out in a non spy situation! Victory celebration of course," Sheila nods.
"Nice!" Telanna says.
The two talk for a while as they walk through the woods.

Posted by: Kaihaku Sat Apr 05, 2008 10:30 am
"Sure, get the easy jobs, leave the heavy stuff for us poor grunts," Adam grumbles offhand to Sophie as he slams down a pot of stew onto a picnic table and goes off to get more. "You better appreciate that stew, I peeled a metric ton of potatoes for it."
Adam leaves to get more of the dinner to place on more tables, grumbling all the while.
Sophie looks after the man with a puzzled frown.
"Hey Sophie!" Sheila calls out, running up to the young woman. "There you are! How ya doin'?"
The priestess starts, nearly dropping a stack of plates, "Oh... Sheila, you startled me..." She sets down the stack, turning to look at the plates, "I'm...alright..." She chuckles softly, "Were you looking for me?"
"Yup!" Sheila nods happily. "I heard you all got fancy dresses during your trip to Saraband!"
"Uh, we did..." Sophie blushes a little, glancing at the others in the dining hall, "Though... I guess I'm surprised that it's commonly known." She chuckles softly, "Why do you ask?"
"I managed to get a fancy dress during my Destonia misadventure," Sheila says with a nod. "I need it tailored a bit, though. Since you're into the jewelry and dresses an' all that, I thought I should ask you."
"Oh... I know a few seamstresses back home..." Sophie smiles, "But I can alter a dress myself, easily enough!" She chuckles...then her chuckle fades away as she looks at Sheila appraisingly, "...wow...you have...really..." She blinks then rubs the back of her head with a rueful smile, "Uh... I'll have to take measurements." A frown crosses her face, as she glances around, "Just be careful who ends up with them."
TUM: Grandfather Dorin and Faralon both peek out of a tree at the same time, colliding and hitting their heads together.
Kai: Adam slips out over the pile.
TUM: Adam manages to snag his arm on a hidden wire as he falls, breaking it and causing Derrik to plummet from his treestand.
TUM: And they're not Tifa sized or anything. : / I just chose the wrong artist for the picture...
TUM: They're supposed to be D cups, dammit
Kai: prejudice is hard.
TUM: I DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS A HENTAI ARTIST WHEN I HIRED HIM!
"Top secret info, got it!" Sheila says with a wink and a thumbs up. Then she frowns. "What? I have what?"
"Eh...nothing..." Sophie frowns, then chuckles uneasily, "I can start after dinner, if you want... It shouldn't take me long."
"Roger that!" Sheila says with a smile. "This is awesome! My first fancy dress! I hope it looks good when changed from disguise to formalwear!"
"You've never had a dress before?" Sophie asks, surprised, "How old are you?"
"Huh? I'm twenty three, why? Oh," Sheila frowns. "I... haven't had much occasion to wear a dress, so the few times I've worn them, they haven't been mine."
"Twenty-three..." Sophie mouths, a look of surprise crossing her face, "Huh..." The priestess stands there for another moment, then nods, "Alright, I'll see you after dinner, need to finish setting the tables." She turns and gets back to work.
"Why does everyone keep reacting that way?" Sheila wonders aloud as she turns to go.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sat Apr 05, 2008 6:24 pm
"Cedric," Kyoji says, running up to the paladin, fairly fresh from battle. "I've returned from the group assaulting Prompt. No casualties, complete wipe of enemies. Mission success. The others are pressing on to the other two camps since the victory was so overwhelming."
Cedric looks up from pouring over a world map and nods, "That is good, I'm glad to hear of the success of Alex and Jim's plan." He rubs his chin, "Though, I wonder if it was wise to press on... The Strife Lords are not to be underestimated."
"They only plan to proceed as far as they are able to without meeting significant resistance," Kyoji says. "Or at least, that's what I was told. Their success or failure will determine their wisdom."
"Such reasoning must be considered carefully when put aganist Shailtor... It could lead them into a trap from which they could not escape." Cedric rubs his chin, "Better to proceed carefully, treating every battle as if it were..." He pauses, then shakes his head, "No mind, both are seasoned leaders...I should not doubt them."
"As you say," Kyoji says with a nod.
"Kyoji, I want you to accompany me to meet with your people." He stands from the table, picking up a sheathed katana, "I pray that they can aid us through either wisdom or skill in liberating the people of Rune..."
"I have been long away from my people, but I will see what I can do to convince them of the threat," Kyoji says with a nod.
"There is no threat to them, as long as we live..." Cedric replies, "Though, I pray that honor compels them in what I ask. We can overcome the Strife Lords, this has twice been proven. However, if we are to save the people of Rune...a different sort of strength will be needed, the skill of your people... To undo bonds and teach evasion, so the innocent can escape while we do battle with the fiends."
"Well said," Kyoji says with a nod. "The island nations lie in ruin, and they jealously guard what few resources they have left, be they of material or people. If the aid you ask isn't something that would be likely to cause them harm, they have a greater chance of responding favorably."
"My only advice is that you be prepared to offer them something in return," Kyoji says. "At least a token of respect, but possibly more. They may ask for a substantial payment."
"As I said, the nations are still being rebuilt," Kyoji says. "Resources promised to help them in this would almost ensure a pact."
"Such resources would be freely offered..." Cedric arches an eyebrow, "However, I would not have it said that I bribed such a proud people into fulfilling their honor."
"Honor may bind my clan, as we have already been involved," Kyoji says. "But for the others, they may require something more. They will not call it a bribe. No, I believe they call it 'tribute'. Or perhaps a fund to aid them in preparing for battle. But they might heed your words regardless if you speak them well enough," Kyoji says.
"Very well..." Cedric nods, "I had thought that avenging your uncle would appease them." He frowns thoughtfully, "Perhaps I should meet with the King once more...or perhaps with Queen Anri, to discuss what 'tribute' could be offered." He sighs, "Though, I fear that neither are in a position to offer a great deal, their nations have also been ravaged by this war."
"Avenging my uncle brings you the favor of my clan, but it does little other than give you some credence with the others," Kyoji says. "As for the tribute, perhaps we should seek it from our foes than our allies? Delivering to them the treasures of a cult storehouse may be enough."
"Then, first, before we meet with them, we should locate such a storehouse and obtain what riches it holds." Cedric replies, "I would not promise resources that I cannot provide." He turns to the ninja, "Can I charge you to locate such a storehouse and organize a raid?"
"If not a cult storehouse, then I swear I will find some source of treasure for this task," Kyoji says with a nod. "You may depend on me."
"I always do." Cedric replies, holding up the blade, "This is a sacred treasure of your people, is it not?" He pulls the katana from its sheath and it glistens like a rainbow in the light, "I would return it to them, who has claim to it?"
Kyoji regards the katana. "Everyone and no one now that the mansion's legacy has ended. Any clan has a claim to it. In fact, now that I think about, that sword would suffice wonderfully to convince a clan to aid us."
"You know the clans better than I, I would not have such a treasure fall into the hands of the unworthy." He slides the blade back into its sheath, "You must help me to choose one worthy to weild such a blade."
"I have a few ideas, and will confirm them when we go," Kyoji says with a nod. "Do you still want me to organize a raid?"
"How many clans are there?" Cedric asks, "I would like them to help the citizens of Rune escape their cult overlords on the eve of our assualt, so they cannot make reprisals aganist them...or at least, not do so easily..." He frowns, "How many clans would be sufficient for such a task? Rune is a large land..."
"There are 13 clans still active in Hapon. By your leave I will attempt to persuade the elders to convene. We may as well attempt to sway them all," Kyoji says.
"Excellent, what of clans in other lands?" Cedric asks, "The ninja of Enrich have been less scarred by the last twenty years, have they not?"
"That is true..." Kyoji says. "And they have a history of aiding others against the Vandals. I do not think you will need material wealth to convince them, though you may need to craft your words carefully."
"Would the approval of the clans of Hapon assist in that aim?" Cedric asks, "Regardless, you will have to council me...or perhaps speak for me."
"It may," Kyoji says, then he frowns. "I will council you as best I can, but I cannot speak nearly as well as you can."
"You understand your people in ways I never could."
"Which is why I will help you, but you must be the one to speak," Kyoji says. "Also it wouldn't be proper for a subordinate to speak in place of a warleader... at best it would be disrespectful of the council."
"Then I shall speak." Cedric nods, "For the sake of caution, please lead a raid aganist a cult storehouse."
"As you wish," Kyoji says with a short bow. "Will that be all?"
Cedric nods, "Thank you, Kyoji."
The paladin is silent for a moment, then adds, "There is one other thing... How are you after reclaiming your sister's body? Have you returned her home?"
Kyoji is still and silent for a moment. "Yes."
Cedric nods, stating sternly, "We will both avenge and revive her."
"I know," Kyoji says with a sigh. "Emotions are... illogical things, though. And discipline can only control them, not dull them."
"Only the gods can truly remove them." Cedric states quietly, looking into the distance, "None the less, they are valuable. Take time to mourn if you have not yet."
"I have mourned," Kyoji says. "And no god would remove the vibrancy of life from mortals."
"Kyoji..." The paladin shakes his head, "Once before, you thought to teach me what it means to walk the path I have walked for most of my life." He looks at the ninja, "If you were not my friend, I would consider it an insult that you do so again." He sets the blade back on the table and retakes his seat, "All of my order are incapable of fear...it is no longer part of us, that is well-known, why would you even question it?"
"That's..." Kyoji frowns. "That's not what I meant. I meant..." Kyoji seems at a loss for words. "No... You are right... I am sorry..." Kyoji shakes his head. "I thought to speak of hope, but did so in a way... No, nevermind. You are correct."
Cedric smiles, "We are hope bringers, in the end..."
Kyoji nods. "I... I had always thought that a paladin's bravery was addition... not subtraction. That the divine bolstered their courage instead of sapping their fear. I never thought to question that view. It makes me wonder what else may be wrong that I had never thought about," Kyoji says.
"Even the gods are mistaken, on occasion, in knowledge..." Cedric replies, "It is their desire that is pure and is that we must emulate." He looks at the ninja, "When your sister is resurrected, I would like to take part in the ceremony, if that is acceptable to you."
"Of course," Kyoji says with a nod.
"Thank you." Cedric replies, then frowns, "What is her name? I know little of your kin, tell me of her."
"Megumi," Kyoji says, quietly. "Megumi Kumoriken. She left to be trained under the kunoichi... that's a female ninja, of Dava's Mansion a few years ago," Kyoji says, closing his eyes. "She wanted so much to be like the ninja of legend... Like uncle."
Cedric nods, "She sounds like a very devoted person, much like her brother."
Kyoji is silent for a few moments. "I suppose. She was a lot like me, people often commented on it. Silent and serious. Then again, that's how all my family is, how we were trained to be."
"She had a playful side, though," Kyoji muses. "Sometimes she'd make a joke or a witty comment. Keep spirits up." Kyoji shakes her head. "What else would you know?'
"I was just wanted to know what kind of person she was..." Cedric replies quietly, "Thank you, Kyoji."
Kyoji nods. "You're welcome. What was... What was your mother like?"
"She was a very loving and caring person." Cedric replies quietly, "...I am certain that she was glad to die in the place of my father."
"Have you spoken with your father? And your sister?" Kyoji asks.
"No." Cedric replies quietly, "There will be time for such...once this is ended..."
"When you feel you are ready," Kyoji says with a nod.
Cedric nods.

Posted by: Kaihaku Mon Apr 07, 2008 2:52 am
"Castor." Cedric walks up to the great warrior, a troubled frown on his face, "I just saw a warrior from another of the Forces carrying the Atlas Axe…" "You did," the minotaur agrees with a simple nod, setting down his load of bricks at the commander's approach.
Cedric arches an eyebrow, looking up questioningly at the minotaur.
Castor gives a flat stare in return, soon sighing and scratching his head. "Was that all, sir?"
Cedric shakes his head, "No... Why has the Atlas traded hands?"
Castor lets out a deep sigh at the question, taking a seat on the stack of bricks next to him. "What would you say if I told you that I want to stop fighting?"
After a long moment of silence, Cedric finally nods, "Very well. I appreciate the sacrifices you've made… We could not have made it this far without you, you were a noble companion." He lets out a tired sigh, looking away, "I would ask that you recover the Atlas before you part company with us, it is a relic that I would prefer to return to its rightful bearer." He smiles sadly, "That can be your final duty to me, traveling to Shade Abbey and returning the Atlas to Ruce, son of Luke."
"You misunderstand me...I did not say that I wanted to cease my service to you."
Cedric ponders this for a moment, then nods, "You are not the first to ask this of me…and I doubt that you will be the last." He looks up at the minotaur, "I will not ask you to take up arms again, however my order remains."
The minotaur pauses. "I feel I must apologize...I should have consulted you before I gave it to him. Rest assured, though," Castor says while he stands, "I will see the axe delivered to Ruce myself."
"You wielded the Atlas well, you alone are worthy of returning it." Cedric answers, "Thank you, Castor." The paladin turns and slowly walks away.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Mon Apr 07, 2008 10:39 pm
*Faralon sits outside at one of the eating tables. He looks to the sky as he plays his lute, remembering the words Mitula said of his abilities.* ((Perform: 46)) "Faralon..." Kyoji says, suddenly near the elf. *Immediately, he stops playing his lute, looking around for Kyoji. He gives a light chuckle as he speaks.*
: "You really shouldn't do that, you know. Sneaking up on everyone all the time, I mean."
"Sorry," Kyoji says, taking a seat on a nearby bench. "A lifetime of training towards devleoping a particular habit is difficult to put aside."
"But you are right, I do need to stop."
*Faralon shrugs.*
: "It's just something to look out for after all the battles. Once this war is done, we'll all - or most of us, anyway - go our separate ways and live peacefully. I'd hate for any of us to be edgy when we don't need to be."
"Perhaps. Have you seen your brother around?" Kyoji asks. "I've been meaning to speak to him."
*Frowning, Faralon shakes his head.*
: "In all honesty, no. I haven't talked to him that much since the feast, actually. It's weird how we sort of shifted, though. Now he's the womanizer and I'm the mage."
Kyoji raises an eyebrow. "Womanizer? What has he done?"
*Faralon laughs.*
: "Perhaps you missed him at the last few celebrations! He was flirting with Simone and the dancers back on Parmecia, and I think I saw him talking to some of the women from the other forces."
"Hmmm, that's not bad... Flirtatious and womanizing are two different things," Kyoji nods. "Even so, perhaps it is better I speak to you. You and Kethra are getting along well, yes?"
*Faralon nods.*
: "Indeed, though I'll admit we haven't had as much time to ourselves as I'd like. That's partially my fault, though, so I shouldn't complain."
"Perhaps you should make some time then," Kyoji says, looking down. "I'm not used to this... But I feel I should ask for counsel."
*Faralon raises an eyebrow, genuinely curious.*
: "Oh? Explain."
Kyoji frowns, tenting his fingers in front of his face. "How to best state this... Ah... I seek advice from you on the matter of courtship. I'm not well versed in the matter concerning cultures outside my own. No..." Kyoji frowns. "Perhaps it's not even to that stage yet."
"Let me put it to you a different way," Kyoji says.
"Do your people, the elves, hold any taboos, rituals, or beliefs concerning courtship that someone who knows nothing of them should be aware of?" Kyoji asks at last.
*Faralon grins.* "It's variable. I mean, you humans have a few different methods in courting, yes? Assuming this is someone you know, the best you can do is to simply be yourself and not worry about anything. After all, if she's worth anything, she won't hold ignorance against you, and she might even get a thrill on introducing you to them herself. On the other hand, she might be impressed that you're actively seeking it out on your own for her...Well, that's assuming you both know each other well. It's a little more difficult if you don't, since the cultures don't always mix well. But, I'm going to take a bet that you do know each other..."
"Yes, I know..." Kyoji says with a frown. "Let's say it was someone from your village, though. As an example."
*Faralon's grin widens.* "Yes, let's. Well, I know it's customary to give a gift like a flower with humans, but you should skip on giving a flower to an elf. We prefer flowers firmly rooted in the ground, not in our hands. An exception is if it's worn, like with a headdress or a corsage. Though, jewelry, particularly silver, will probably go much further. But, you never give a girl jewelry on the first date. That makes you look desperate."
"I wasn't planning on any gifts for a little way... The exchange of gifts is a serious step in my own home," Kyoji says. "What's a date?"
*Hearing this, the elf's ears twitch.*
"Wow, you really do have different customs where you come from. A date is simply two people getting to know each other better in a planned meeting. Typically speaking, it's a one on one sort of thing. You both agree to a time and place, and the activity - often a dinner. Oh, and while it's good to share your culture with hers and learn from each other, try not to put too much emphasis on it, else she may think you're not all that interested in her. After all if all goes well, you'll have plenty of time to learn from each other."
"I see," Kyoji says with a nod. "Anything else?"
*Faralon shakes his head.*
"Nothing big, really. The most important thing you can do is be yourself, though. And, depending on the girl, you might need to be the one to make the moves, or at least show her you're not outright afraid of her, heh. Even if she can be aggressive, she might enjoy a little aggression on your part, too. I would also try to observe what she says and how she says it - you can pick up a lot from a girl by observing the way she talks. She might even be flirting while it seems to be nothing but chatter. As they say, though, the best teacher is experience, so go with your gut, do what you think is right, and don't feel bad if things don't work out. There are many, many women out there, so you've got more than enough chances - not that I'm saying things won't work out, though. You've got a better chance than Damas."
*Faralon finishes with a wink.*
Kyoji raises an eyebrow. "I thought I was being at least fairly subtle... You've more insight than I thought..." Kyoji tilts his head. "You've changed a great deal since we began. Than again, perhaps we all have."
*Faralon laughs.*
"Indeed. Well, Damas was coming to me for advice too. He couldn't be aggressive enough, I guess. That, or they're just really incompatible. Either way, though, this is really your best opportunity, so don't let it pass you by."
"I shall not," Kyoji says, nodding seriously.
*Rubbing the back of his head, Faralon continues.*
"Oh, yes. If you've any hidden talents, you could show her them. But given she knows you're really athletic, I'd avoid anything of that nature, since you couldn't really impress her any more with that at this point."
"Yeah..." Kyoji says, looking to the side.
: "Really, though, if Kethra and I can work things out, you two can certainly do the same."
"Perhaps," Kyoji says with a nod. "We shall certainly see."
: "So, do you still need to see my brother? If so, I hope you can find him. He's the type of person that can be anywhere."
"I might as well," Kyoji says, getting up. "Though I believe I already learned what I need to know from you."
*Smiling, Faralon nods a farewell to the ninja.*
: "Thanks. I like to help."

Posted by: Alpha Tue Apr 08, 2008 6:30 pm
Wandering the fort, determined to meet more of those he was fighting and living with, Laeral spots Dam, and walks over to him. "Hello there," he says as he approaches. "And hello to you too," Dam said, sarcastically. "Aren't you a friendly one!"
Smirking, Laeral ignores the tone. "Often, yes," he replies with a grin. "I noticed you were part of the Prompt mission," he says by way of explanation. "So I thought to introduce myself. Don't know many people around here yet it seems."
"I've gotten to be a little behind on knowing who's here, myself," the rogue admitted. "So... do you have a name? A preferred method of disemboweling the forces of evil?"
"Laeralas, or Laeral for short," the elf replies. "Twin daggers and magic for the latter. Something we have in common I notice. At least for the daggers part."
"I think I like you more already," Dam said, smirking slightly. "Howdoes that work for you, anyway... the spells and the throat-slitting, i mean."
"My father's a wizard," Laeral says. "But I always preferred fighting with two daggers. I was determined to find a way to combine the two and scoured my home town's library trying to do so. Found a single book on the matter, and went through it over and over. After a long time of practise and failed attempts, I finally managed to channel arcane energy through them." He shrugs but smiles. "I've only met a couple who fight in a similar style, but would like to meet more." He pauses a moment. "What about you?" he asks. "Do you work any spells with those daggers of yours?"
"I don't think it counts, but when I move them, I can magically make you bleed out," Dam said, smirking. "No... spells were never my thing. I was always more about the hands-on approach. Never thought I'd rack up kill counts like this, though... the cult's not very good at avoiding being killed."
"I'll agree with you there," Laeral nods. "What happened to their camps near Prompt was...well, ridiculous. The last battle where we were really pushed was in Mitula's Temple. Though I believe you only made an appearance after that," he says.
"Yeah... I had a previous engagement, so to speak," Dam said, nodding. "But what I did was nothing compared to some of the others; that other guy pretty much danced and jumped through half the field."
Laeral laughs. "That other guy wouldn't happen to have hair similar to mine and wield a two handed sword, would he?"
"Your brother?" the rogue said, laughing. "Oh, this is rich..."
"Yes, younger brother," Laeral confirms. "Moves so fast they barely ever see him coming."
"I considered that fighting style," Dam said, shaking his head. "With moves like that, maybe I should keep thinking about it..."
"It's certainly effective," the elf agrees. "There's another in Alex's group that fights in a similar fashion, but with twin scimitars. He barely ever seems to be around though. The demon camp was one of his rare appearances. I daresay you could easily replace him," he adds with a smirk.
"I'll keep that in mind," the rogue said, nodding. "Sorry to cut things short, but I need to disappear for a few days and there are things I need to take care of."
"That's fine," Laeral says. "Hope it all goes how you want it. Oh...and what's your name, by the way?"
"Dam Dicem works fine," he said, nodding.
Laeral nods as well. "Well, see you around then," and he begins to walk away, humming softly.

Posted by: Dark Maiden Tue Apr 08, 2008 7:05 pm
"Hello Merla..." Sophie begins as she walks up to the halfling wizardess, "I was wondering if you could help me with something?" Merla looks up from a tome, probably her spellbook, which she is writing in. Various scrolls lay spread out before the wizardess, and her familiar is curled up in a ball nearby. "Oh...hello Sophie," she says and she sets down her quill pen. "What can I do for you?"
The priestess takes a seat beside the wizardess, "You certainly seem occupied…" She smiles in a friendly manner, "I just received a commission for a magical item, but it requires an arcane spell… I was wondering if you could help me." She glances down at the pile of scrolls, "It's alright if you're too busy, maybe I could ask someone else…but of course I'd give you a portion of the commission."
"My art requires me to spend of a lot of time reading and studying magic tomes and scrolls." Merla smiles at Sophie. "I would not normally put my studies aside for something like this, but since I consider you a friend, I'll see what I can do."
"I really appreciate it; I don't know any of the other arcanists very well." Sophie smiles, pulling out a spell scroll, "This is the spell, and it’s uncommon...so I wasn't sure if anyone would know it..."
Merla reads the words on the scroll. "This is a rather uncommon spell. I have never come across it in my studies, which proves that I still have more to learn." The wizardess chuckles.
"Life would be boring if there wasn't more to learn." Sophie smiles, "At least, I think so."
"I like the way you think," Merla says with a smile. "Most people think that I'm boring and weird because I read and study too much."
"Weird really just means interesting." Sophie laughs, "What's boring is people too afraid to be themselves."
"Or people that are afraid of being around their fellow man," Merla says softly.
"That's not boring, that's just unfortunate…" Sophie replies, "It means that everyone misses out."
"It is pretty sad isn't it?" Merla says with a hint of sorrow in her voice. "I suppose that I was just always afraid of being rejected. That no one would like me because I'm an oddball."
Sophie rests a hand on the halfling's shoulder, "Any person who would reject you...well, are they really worth knowing anyway?" She glances up at the sky, "It always makes me sad when someone makes the choice to reject themselves...without giving someone else the chance to prove them wrong."
Merla sits in silence, thinking about what Sophie said. "I...guess you're right," Merla says after about ten minutes.
"Why don't you run an experiment to find out...?" Sophie suggests with a smile, waiting without complaint, "Then you won't have to guess."
"An experiment?"
"Yeah, go find someone you don't know yet and see how they react to you being yourself..." Sophie responds, "If they act like a jerk, keep an eye on them for awhile and see if they were worth the trouble to begin with."
"You know what, that's a good idea. I wish I'd thought of that," Merla says with a laugh.
"Just pick someone interesting..." Sophie advises with a smile, "...or cute."
Merla giggles. "No offense or anything, but I didn't expect to hear something like that from you."
"That's because there are no good prospects..." Sophie shakes her head, "...either they're all too self-absorbed or they're too old...or taken..." She laughs, "...or women."
Merla chuckles. "I should speak with that psion when I get the chance. Her name is Jessica if memory serves. I figure that since psions rely on a strong mind, that we may have some things in common." The wizardess pauses for a few minutes before she continues. "That elf that came with us to Hassan could also be worth getting to know better. We have spoken a few times, but that is hardly enough to really figure out that much about a person. I do know that he is a sorcerer, if you are familiar with them, and that he is pretty open-minded. He is very nice, but he seems to have no trouble speaking his mind. He said that wizards were snooty right to my face," Merla says while trying to contain her laughter. "I suppose he was within his right to say that after what I said about sorcerers. Then I got to thinking that perhaps not all sorcerers are foolish, immature, or useless." She lowers her voice to a whisper and says, "And I must say...he was pretty cute."
"I should warn you..." Sophie says with a quiet laugh, "My little sister and my mom practice sorcery." She smiles, "Though, I guess Kate can be pretty immature and foolish... Still, prejudice can be useful...but it can also be harmful, try not to judge a book by its cover...or someone by their profession, you might be surprised." Her smile fades, "My brother...has that problem... He constantly judges people...without ever giving them a chance."
"You're right," Merla says, her smile fading. "I suppose that after all the times people have judged me without getting to know me that I should have known better than to do it to others."
"As long as you realize that, you can work to change it, right?" Sophie smiles, and then brushes off her robes, "I need to check on a few more things, shall I leave you to your studies?"
"That would probably be best, since I still have a lot of work to do," Merla says, picking up her quill pen again.
"Just remember to let me know how your 'experiment' goes..." Sophie says with a wink as she gets up, "Have a good day, Merla." She then heads off.

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Tue Apr 08, 2008 7:09 pm
The first thing Ashathel Faesaen noticed, after being placed at the edge of the forest, was the smell. Not just earthy, not just green or natural... it was the smell of life. Pure and untainted, unlike the vast majority of the world. Here, in this little patch of forest - his patch of forest - things were still right.
It feels so very, very good to be back, he thought, smiling broadly. But no sooner did he take a step, than a voice called out to him roughly, despite the youthful vigor of it.
"Halt! Don't move!" the voice said, the attempt at intimidation causing the elf to believe that the voice was male. "State your name and business here!"
"Ashathel Faesaen, here to taste my mother's cooking," the elf said, attempting very hard not to laugh. They're probably just starting out as scouts, and volunteered to be lookouts at quieter spots.
At least he's got the hiding part down,[color=darkkhaki] he thought, smirking as he failed to make out the person calling out to him. He waited for a few seconds - likely the young man trying to figure out if he knew the name - and said, "You're free to go."
[color=darkkhaki]"Thanks for keeping an eye out," he said, giving an almost exaggerated salute; after having seen as much combat as he had, Ashathel hoped the encouragement would help the boy grow into a fine defender of his woodland home. Smiling as he headed deeper in, he pulled the flute free with a swift motion and played, the melody high and sweet. It drifted between the boughs, mingling with the slight breeze that made it through the thick clustering of trees and tickling the leaves hanging there. It rubbed at the strings of his heart, nostalgia adding an additional flavor like cinnamon added to a cake. In what seemed like only a few steps, a worn, familiar trail wound its way to where he was - or rather, he wound his way to where it was.
The trail Ashathel was on was the closest thing to a main road there was; often it was used to get the few goods imported from outside to Brodaleaf; more often, however, it was the starting point when women left to gather berries and other fruits, while children let it become the road to adventure. The village was small, so there was little worry of there not being enough to eat, but it also meant that there was little likelihood of randomly seeing someone out in the middle of the day. Even less likely still was the idea that such a person would be unknown... and yet, as the bladesinger advanced closer to his home, he found a person who matched both.
She was taller than most elven women - taller than a number of men Ashathel had met, standing at nearly five feet and ten inches tall. Her hair, hanging freely as far down as her lower back, was a deep chestnut brown, as if someone had stretched the nut into thin strands and woven them into her head. Her dress was simple yet elegant, the way most elven dresses were; often, humans mistook them for the kind worn on special occasions, but no other elf would make such an error.
But neither of these were what caught Ashathel's eye, and made him stop playing; nor was the cause the intent look of interest on her heart-shaped face, the lips that pouted to match her forehead's creases of curiosity or the cross of her soft, long arms. What caught his attention was the brown-furred bear nearby, eighteen hundred pounds of muscle looking intently at her from just over a dozen yards away as if deciding whether it was going to keep going or have a meaty snack.
"It's a good day for a song, don't you think?" he asked, moving slowly; he attempted to keep the woman between him and the bear, masking his approach somewhat as he slipped the flute back into his pocket.
"I think so, though I haven't heard anything that good in a long time," she said. Thinking he detected a note of wistfulness, the bladesinger nonetheless advanced closer. He only hoped he would be able to get to her before the grizzly made it's decision...
And sure enough, just as he reached her side, the animal made its intentions clear with a low, grunting snort. Startled, the woman half stumbled past the other elf, even as Ashathel stepped forward and drew his thinblade, yelling loudly to try and scare it.
Bellowing in reply, nearly a ton of muscle cleared the distance to Ashathel in seconds, even as he waited for it's approach. As it came to a stop it pawed at him, but he nimbly stepped aside, letting the claws shred air instead of his flesh.
"You've got to be kidding me!" the swashbuckler said, as surprised to be fighting the animal as he was insulted that the heavy blow missed. Moving as if knighting the beast, he tapped it once on each shoulder, before slamming the flat of his blade down on the middle of it's head. The grizzly's eyes rolled back in its head as it slumped down, the fight taken from it with it's consciousness. Checking to see that it was indeed not going to rise, he turned to the woman, who had taken cover behind the nearest tree.
"Are you okay?" he asked, sheathing his blade. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but I didn't want to startle it if I didn't have to. Truth is, we almost never get bears like these here."
"I'm... goddess... I'm okay," she said, half-shivering, half at a loss for words. "You... don't even have a scratch on you, do you?"
"Let's just say that I'm used to being the smaller guy in a fight," he said, smiling. "Look... I didn't really think that killing it was the right way to go, so I just gave it a bit of a nap. Would you like to get out of here before it wakes up?"
"Yes," she said instantly, the word being the first clear one she could speak since she noted the grizzly's presence. "Please, yes... I didn't think I'd get attacked by a bear out here..."
"Like I said, it's not from here... the blacks usually run away when they see people," the bladesinger said, offering his hand. "I'm Ashathel. Ashathel Faesaen. Don't worry... you're safe now."
"Elamoressa Stalamoon... I just came here a few weeks ago," she said, nodding, as she took his hand. Smiling lightly, she added, "My friends call me Ella."
"Well, then, Ella, you already know where we're headed," he said, smiling as he gestured to the road. "We can talk along the way."
-={^}=-
"I haven't seen you around," Ella said, looking at the swashbuckler with renewed interest. "But I think I've heard the name before."
"Well, my parents do still live here," Ashathel replied, with a grin.
"I mean outside of here," she said, returning the grin. "I heard about a musician with that last name, but I didn't think I'd hear him in person. Or get saved by him, even."
"And you probably didn't," the male elf said, silently cursing his brother's skill. "The name you're probably thinking of is Faralon Faesaen, my brother; he's a bard."
"Yeah... that's it," she said, nodding with recognition. "But you're really good with the flute... it's easy to make the mistake."
"Not if you've heard him," Ashathel said. "He's in a whole other class of musician. Dancing, however... I think I've cornered that market."
"Really?" Ella asked, with a sly smile. "Is that so?"
"Ahh... I know that look in your eyes, and I love skeptics. It always makes them so much more... surprised," he said, his smile widening as he pulled the flute free once more. Playing a light, airy tune, he danced alongside the elven woman, then around her, twisting and hopping like a thing possessed. Her eyes sparkled as he moved, completely entranced, and the more she approved, the better and the faster he danced. Eventually, with a final flourish, he stopped with a grand, open-armed pose, which encited both giggles and fervent applause from his sole observer.
"Wonderful!" she said. "Bravo! I've never seen anyone who can move like that! Where did you learn to dance so well?"
"Secrets, secrets, and more secrets... let's just say that I began at home, and worked my way up," the bladesinger said. "And you? I wouldn't be surprised if you have an impressive singing voice."
"Oh, I couldn't," Ella said. "Even if I had the talent, I'd be too embarassed... you've probably heard voices ten times better."
"Or maybe I'll find out I've only heard voices half as good," Ashathel offered, smiling. "Come on, I'll play something... do you know this one?"
"No... come on, no, it's fine," the woman said, blushing a little as he played. "I'm not all that good..."
"And I'd like to hear how not good, if you don't mind," the combat caster said, nodding. "Why don't you give it a little try? No one's out here besides you, me, and the trees."
"Well..." Ella said, smiling slyly again as she made a face. "I don't know..."
"Let's not forget that I kept that bear from ruining your dress," he added, feigning seriousness. "It's only fair, and I promise I won't make fun of you."
"Well... maybe just one song," she said, finally giving in. "Go ahead and play something."
"Your wish is my command, madame," he said, drawing a giggle as he bowed. Playing again, he kept the tune simple, allowing the focus to be on the woman's vocals. Opening her mouth to sing, she allowed a simple yet sweet melody to escape her lips, almost perfectly matching the tone of the song. Even more, as she continued to sing, she got more into it, and seemed almost unwilling to stop. It was a good stretch of time until her singing died down to humming, and even then she continued until she nearly fell.
"Are you okay?" Ashathel asked, offering a hand to help her steady herself. Ella nodded, then frowned as she looked down. "Oh no... that tear is terrible! Without my needles, it's going to take me a week to fix it properly..."
"Maybe not," Ashathel said, handing her the flute. As the woman looked on in mild confusion, he kneeled in front of her, holding the torn portion in his hands as he spoke. Rubbing his fingers along the edges of the tear, she watched with surprise as it became as good as new.
"I don't see a problem," the bladesinger said, grinning as he stood. He stretched a hand outwards, waiting for his instrument to be returned.
"A gifted swordsman, a talented performer, and even a spellcaster. You," Ella said, gently placing the flute into his outstretched palm, "are an interesting man, Ashathel Faesaen."
"I aim to please," he said simply, gesturing forward with a nod. "Come on... we're almost home."
-={^}=-
Brodaleaf was an anomaly in terms of elven villages, due to where it was situated. Unlike most of them, located in forests independent of other natural features, the village was in one of the few forests that surrounded the outcroppings of mountainous stone rising from the island of Cypress. Even more, the mountain-esque natural structure was almost completely hollow, leaving a sizable valley inside. Elderly oaks and various specimen of flora grew there readily, protected from the worst of the elements by the stony shield above; because of this, most of the trees were thought to have been there almost as long the island itelf.
Ashathel himself never put stock in the last claim, though he did not doubt that he could multiply his race's maximum age a number of times and still not exceed the age of the woodland around him. Nourished as it was by the land itself, and protected as it was by the natural barrier, his home thrived where many other forests had fallen, and even the woods around the stone were often considered to be some of the most well-kept on the island. Even better, the nature of his home's construction and design made it difficult even for other elves to find the entrance, and all but impossible for someone of another race.
The trail they took had long since disappeared, carrying them to the base of the short, naturally excavated peak. Over a winding trail of stone the path continued, though it gave away no secrets as to where it would go,and following it too far would leave one lost for days at best. Eventually, though, creeping through paths etched into the bladesinger's mind for decades, he came to dark, rich earth once more, and the glory of his home stunned him into silence.
No words could ever capture the beauty he saw there... indeed, as he withdrew the flute once more, even his expertly played tune seemed a poor homage to natural beauty that could bring even stone to tears. Still, he played, the first long tune he'd ever learned and one no more appropriate than at this very time. Ella too was quiet with reverence, which he could only assume matched his thoughts.
A few of the lookouts - the older ones, who had been there for a few years even before Ashathel had left - waved vigorously as they saw him, entranced by his tone and tune. Some scrambled from tree-bound posts, their high perches so well constructed that most never realized they were there. Ashathel continued to play, long a powerful, pulling at strings in his heart and others he'd forgotten were still there amidst the throngs of demons and undead he saw almost daily. The combat caster's eyes glistened, watering almost to the point of tears as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.
He was finally home again.
-={^}=-
"It's been too long, Ashathel!" an elf said, bow slung over his shoulder as he gripped the swashbuckler's hand. Shaking it fervently, he grinned broadly, saying "Man... are you stronger?"
"As are you, Alvoel," the bladesinger replied. "How have things been?"
"Not bad, not bad," the other man replied, nodding. "BUt we've had our fair share of trouble, too. A lot of things got displaced when the Cult started attacking; we've got all sorts of animals that aren't usually here, and we still get the occasional orc party cutting through."
"How close?" the combat caster asked immediately, alarmed. Raising a hand, Alvoel replied, "Relax... they don't even make it close to the base of the peak, much less deep into the forest. We may not have as many eyes as we'd like, but the ones we have are sharp."
"And young," Ashathel said.
"Like I said, a lot of things got displaced... the least of which being our people," the other man said, his tone more somber. "It's been bad, Ashathel... some of the people, and the things they did to them..."
"I've seen a lot I didn't want to," the swashbuckler said, solemnly. "Wait... so Ella...?"
"Elamoressa? Yeah, she's one of them. Lost track of her brothers and her sister... her parents barely made it out. Her mother was injured bad, her father's in even worse condition; thankfully, they'll make it, but she still goes out on walks, hoping the siblings will come this way."
"I see," he said, looking back at her. "My mother and father?"
"Both perfectly fine; they heard that you might have had a hand with things, but no one knows for sure."
"Maybe I'll fill you in, later, if I have time," he said, giving his friend another handshake. "I'll be here for a few more days, unless something happens."
"Then we'll talk again later," Alvoel said, nodding as Ashathel turned back to Ella.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, as he approached.
Nodding, the swashbuckler said "Yeah, yeah... just catching up. I'm heading home, but I can walk with you to where you're staying. Or you can come with me to my parent's house first, and then we'll head over to yours; the choice is up to you."
"I really haven't gotten to know a lot of people too well... I guess I could go with you," she said, her voice lower than it had been. Taking it as a sign, the bladesinger nodded and gestured ahead with a hand.
"Then, Ella, the next stop is the Faesaen residence."
-={^}=-
"My baby!" was the first sound both elves heard, a woman practically ripping down the front door in order to get out. Scrambling down the path, she commenced squeezing the male until he thought his eyes would pop.
"Mother, mother... come on, mother, I haven't been gone that long," he said, prying himself loose. "You probably did more damage to me just now than I've taken since I started four months ago."
"Where's your brother? Is he coming too?" she asked immediately, ignorning the words he said previous. Averting his eyes, the older brother replied, "He had some other business to take care of, business that was set before we found out we'd have time to visit our families. He'll probably come back the first time"
"You shouldn't have left him alone," she fussed, arranging his cloak around his shoulders. "It's still so dangerous, and he's your younger brother..."
"Mother, you do realize that he's a grown man, right?" Ashathel said. "He's alright... really, we're both knights of Cypress now."
At this the woman's fussing only intensified, becoming almost unbearable praise. The noise, coupled with the older elven woman's hasty exit, soon brought an equally aged male out. He stood, a cloth handkercheif in hand, cleaning something from them as he slowly walked forwards.
"What trouble did he get into?" was the man's instant reply, once he'd made it within earshot. "Was it a woman?"
"The only trouble we're getting into doesn't really count as trouble," Ashathel replied, rolling his eyes. "It's nice to see you too, father."
"So you really just came back for some tea and a hot meal? I don't buy it," the man said, looking at his son warily. "You may be better than your brother, but both of you are just trouble waiting to happen."
"I never said otherwise, father," Ashathel said, shaking his head. Coming to his senses, he turned and gestured between his parents and the woman at his side, saying, "These, as you figured out, are my parents; mother, father, this is Elamoressa Stalamoon."
"Yeah... you came with the other refugees. Don't cause any trouble; I like that," the oldest of the four said, his voice still gruff. "If we're done here, I'm going back inside; I have research to do."
"It's so nice to meet you, Elamoressa," his mother added. "Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?"
"I don't know," she started, but the older woman silenced Ella with a finger.
"Hush... that's a silly question, of course you will! Now come on inside, both of you... it's cold out here."
"Welcome to the Faesaen home," Ashathel said, shrugging. Gesturing with an open, outstretched palm, he allowed her to walk ahead of him into the house.
-={^}=-
"Still busy?" the bladesinger asked, stepping into a wide open space. Here, it was warm, the light of the afternoon sun illuminating the space in radiant fashion. With the help of his grandfather and his two sons, Ashathel's father had created the room, magically shaping the stone to this form. Instead of windows, thinly cut blocks of crystal-clear quartz had been shaped as well, forming an intricate series of mostly transparent panels unlike that of a greenhouse. It took in the light of the day, spreading it in ever-shifting patters that made the room seem like the interior of a pulsating star; at night, orbs enchanted with light spells were placed into grooves on the wall, giving it an almost ghostly appearance at night. It was expensive, and time consuming, and many thought he overstepped his bounds with it; nonetheless, there was no finer place to study spells in the entirety of the village, a fact his father never failed to remind others when he was naysayed.
"I thought you gave up magic," the older elf said, glaring. "Not enough action for you, right? At least your brother had a grasp on something, as much of a vagrant as he is."
"Perhaps... perhaps not," he said, dropping his spellbook on the table. "Maybe I continued, because I found a cause worth casting spells for."
"These aren't just cantrips, that's for sure," the elder Faesaen said, leafing through the book. His voice stained slightly with admiration, or interest, or both, he continued, "Some of these are hard to come by, boy..."
"Glad you approve... although that's not why I showed you," he said, sitting down on one of the few seats in the room, by a massive, thick wooden desk with papers and ingredients all over them. "I really did just come back here because I missed home, father. We're in the middle of something big, something dangerous but worth it... and after the things I've seen, I feel like I've lost something I can't find anywhere else."
"So you've been fighting, all right," the mage said, looking at his oldest son. "Is that what the trip to the castle was about? Fighting?"
"Prince Nick went missing, and we went to find him. We did, but we've been fighting the cult for a season now. Faralon and I were knighted when we found him, but we've kept pressing on," Ashathel said. "I... I don't know, it's hard to say what's happened. We've both been fighting almost daily since we started off on that expedition, but we can see progress. And the things we've seen... some of them almost make up for the horror."
"Maybe you two boneheads actually learned something for once," the bladesinger's father said quietly. His tone hardening slightly, he said, "Where's Faralon?"
"Still at the fort where we're set up, but he has to leave in a day or so on another expedition. I didn't tell mother, but I don't think he's too keen on coming home soon," the swashbuckler said, his voice low. "She wouldn't be happy with it, and I hope I might still be able to get him home sooner than later, even if it's only for a few days."
"That sounds about right," Ashathel's father said, disdainfully.
"Actually... I wanted to get some help from you," the combat caster said. "Do you still have grandfather's spellbooks?"
"Of course! Why wouldn't I? The spells in there are powerful, useful... you already have a number of them inscribed in here," the elder mage said, almost insulted. "You've seen it already... what do you need from it?"
"I need a new spellbook," he said, holding up another, the pages empty. "A lot of those spells were great for the time when I had them, but now... not so much. I need more useful spells, more poweful and... more familiar."
"Something that's more like what you grew up with?" his father asked.
"Yeah," Ashathel said, nodding. "Will you help?"
"Well, you can take your father's book of cantrips," he said, handing his son a fresh tome. The pages were well preserved, written out carefully and clearly. "Your grandfather got the idea to put them in a separate place from his more powerful spells; I thought it was a good idea, so I made a copy of his. You're free to take this copy."
"Thank you," the bladesinger said, surprised. "And the rest-"
"You will sit here and copy them into your book," the mage said, sternly. "And in exchange, you can leave your original spellbook here... I want to look at some of those."
"Father, that's my spellbook," Ashathel said. "I didn't show it to you so you could claim it... I showed it to you so you knew I wasn't just asking this on a whim."
"My house, my study... my rules," the elder mage said. "Take it or leave it."
"Fine," the swashbuckler said, begrudgingly. He looked as if he were ready to say more, but his mother announced the preparation of dinner with triumph. Both male elves looked at each other, the older smiling, the younger glowering.
-={^}=-
"The meal was wonderful," Ella said, smiling. Some of her cheer drained as she continued, saying, "It's been a long time since I had food like that..."
"Speaking of... I don't think you know, but Ashathel's been gone, fighting those good-for-nothing brainwashed fools," the eldest male said. "Finally doing something good for a change."
"Oh my," the bladesinger's mother said, her face shadowed immedately. "How can you do that, Ashathel? Don't you know how dangerous it is? People have been hurt very badly by them!"
"He's still here; he can take a hit," the mage said, nodding with approval. "Probably gives just as good as he can take, if he's my boy. Both of them, even."
"Excuse me," Ella said, rising quickly. "I... I don't mean to be rude, but I should get home soon."
"Let the boy take you; it's dark out," Ashathel's father said, waving a hand dismissively.
"I can... it's not a problem," the swashbuckler echoed. Nodding in consent, Ella left, Ashathel following after her as he grabbed his thinblade.
-={^}=-
"It makes sense now," she said, walking slowly. "I heard about you when we were evacuating, heard that you were fighting the Cult. It all makes sense now," the woman said.
"Are you upset that I didn't tell you?" Ashathel asked.
"No. Yes. I don't know," she admitted. "I... I just thought you were normal, or really good... I didn't know you were a professional soldier. I thought you were... different."
"Different?" the combat caster asked, confused.
"I... just... my father, my brothers, they were all soldiers. When the Cult came, they were out atthe front, fighting and defending us. But because of that, I haven't seen my brothers in months, and my father's hurt so badly..."
"Someone has to do it," Ashathel said, simply. "I wouldn't have chosen this path, if I had seen where it was going from the beginning... but I'm not sorry I did."
"It's the same thing... my father said, a few weeks ago..." she said solemnly, her voice nearing the cracking point. Stopping in front of a large, new building, obviously built in response to the influx of refugees. "But was it worth it? Is it still worth whatever you might have lost?"
They both stood in silence for a moment, the cold winds blowing their hair with more force than it had earlier in the day. Finally, giving him a final look, Ella turned and went into the building. The bladesinger stood there, looking, then turned to return to his parent's home through the night that was now suddenly colder.
-={^}=-
"Hey... where's Brassalg?" Ashathel asked, returning to his father's study. "I thought he didn't like hunting at night?"
"He's been out looking for spell components for me," the man replied, his attention focused on the book in front of him. "He should be back soon; why do you ask?"
"Just curious," the elf said, smiling, as a small creature poked it's head out from under his cloak. "Telithe."
"Mongoose, huh?" his father said, looking up for a moment. "Not bad, I guess. At least you're taking it seriously."
"Are we going to do this all the time, father?" the bladesinger asked. "Not all of us want to be devoted spellcasters."
"You know... you still don't get it, do you?" the elder mage said, shaking his head. "It's not about you being a dedicated wizard. It's about you being dedicated to something. And I thought you figured that out, but if you're still asking the question, you obviously haven't."
"Do you expect me not to ask the question, when you make comments like that every time I come back?" the swashbuckler retorted.
"Yes, actually, I do," his father said. "I expect you to rise above it all, because that's what you're supposed to do. Sons are supposed to be better than their fathers, and if I didn't let those comments deter me when they came from your grandfather, you shouldn't let them deter you."
"Do I look deterred to you?" Ashathel asked.
"You don't look happy, that's for sure," the spellcaster said, finally closing his book. "If that's not what it is, then what is it? Is the Stalamoon girl betrothed to someone else?"
"What? No! I don't know... that's not important!" the combat caster said, the mongoose crawling onto his shoulder as he crossed his arms. "Look... I've seen a lot of fighting, father, and I'm not the same person I was before. And I don't know if I'm okay with that."
"So you thought you should ask me?" the mage said, snorting. His voice dripping with sarcasm, he gesticulated wildly with his hands, continuing, "Yes... there must be 'Alampel Faesaen, advisor to the indecisive' written across my forehead!"
"Mature... real mature, father," Ashathel said, his familiar jumping off his shoulder as he threw his hands up in frustration. No sooner did Telithe's paws touch the ground than the mongoose scampered back up the bladesinger's leg and into his shirt, terrified by the sudden appearance of a blink dog, holding a number of roots in it's maw.
"HAH! That's great!" Alampel said, laughing. "Look... I don't have the answer to your question, because it's not about me or Elamoressa or Brassalg or even your friend there Telithe. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
"Don't worry... Brassalg's harmless," Ashathel said, whispering to his familiar. Then, to his father, he added, "Look... what time tomorrow can I start the exchange?"
"Dawn," the wizard said. "No more than eight hours a day, and if you dare mess up my study again, you'd better be good at counterspells."
"Then I'll be back at dawn," the swashbuckler said, turning abruptly. His father said nothing, but followed his son out of the door with his eyes.
-={^}=-
"Morning, father," the elven swashbuckler said, not surprised to fnd his father in the same place he left him in the night before; he'd done it many a night, and had the rings under his eyes to prove it. Brassalg slept in a corner, though Telithe nonethless kept a wary eye on him from the mongoose's perch on Ashathel's shoulder.
"I marked some spells I think would be good, since I'm sure you're going to spend more time swinging that sword than you will be casting spells. They're effective, and more importantly, they're expendable, if you need the magical energy for a counterspell."
"Or a magically enhanced attack," Ashathel noted. "I didn't expect you to do that."
"You really think I want my son to be done in by some silly grunt, simply because he couldn't injure them enough to knock over a barrel?" Alampel said, snorting with indignation. "Please. If you're going to fight in a war, you'd better be ready to lay down some heavy fire."
"Father... there are already people who can cast these spells, and do so better than I can," Ashathel said, quickly looking through the marked spells in the book. "What's the point?"
"The point is, boy, that you need to be able to pick up the slack," the elder mage said. "And when you can't get close enough to swing that sword, you still need to be able to give it to them good. Didn't they teach you anything out there? I thought Yeesha was one of the mages up at Cypress Castle?"
"I haven't been there in a while," the elf said, quietly. "And I didn't get to speak to her much."
"Well, then, maybe you ought to go back and learn how to do things right," Alampel said, shaking his head. "Your magical skills aren't as advanced as theirs are, nor will it progress as quickly. It's a waste for someone like you to worry about diversifying, when what you're really good at is punishing target after target."
"And how do you know how I fight?"
"I've seen you; you're the type who likes the fencing style," his father said, with the same tone a person would use if asked if they knew their alphabet. "Hit fast and hard, don't get pinned down. You can take a hit, but you don't sit around waiting for one if you don't have to, and your spells should be like that. A good bit of damage over a good area, or heavy damage on a single target, while you're in motion. Nothing that takes a long time to cast, nothing that needs a long time to be effective."
The bladesinger simply smiled and nodded, amused at his father's evaluation. "Anything else I should keep in mind?"
"How are you magic-enhancing skills?" was the reply.
"Don't spend much time on it, honestly; when it comes to spells, I have my hands full with just keeping up with the spells I do know," the swashbuckler said. "I just figured out how to work most of the spells I know to deal electrical damage, but that's about as far as that goes."
"Good. Don't waste your energy until you have adequate time to devote to true arcane study," Alampel said. "Stick to what your good at, which is all that silly poking and prodding you do. Really... at least swing a sword like a man once in a while. It's all that womanly prancing about that makes the humans think us so... feminine."
"Wow. Okay," Ashathel said, in disbelief of his fathers last statement. "Are you going to stay here and keep doing that?"
"Of course not; I have work to do. Someone has to help secure the wards around the forest, and it usually takes a while."
Thank the gods, [color=darkkhaki]the bladesinger said, sighing in relief. Aloud, he said [color=darkkhaki]"Then I should get started, so I can be out of your hair."
"Indeed... we'll be back soon, though, so don't get too comfortable," Alampel said, nodding. He departed through the door, while Brassalg left in his own manner, the air making a popping sound as it filled in the vacuum left when the blink dog teleported out. Shaking his head, the swashbuckler gave his familiar free reign to move about outdoors, then set to work copying the spells he saw.
-={^}=-
It was not until the sun had risen into the middle of the sky that the elven mage returned, to find his son hard at work. He looked in on his progress, noting that a number of spells had been added to the book already.
"Your talents must greatly exceed what I thought they would, if you already have that many spells entered," the older elf said.
Shaking his head, Ashathel replied, "I did this while I was at Odalia... took the time to add spells to the book I already knew. I'm hoping that it won't take me too long to pick up ones here, since I've seen them before, but I don't think I'm going to be able to get them all in while I'm here..."
"I'm going to show you something that I worked on for a very long time," Alampel said, reaching for a tome with a gilded cover that was more like a lockbox. Speaking a few words, he opened it, leafing through the pages until he found something. Laying it on the table, he said, "This, my son, will greatly reduce the amount of time it will take you to add the spells to your book. Learn it tomorrow; it should be what you need in order to get it done quickly."
"Thank you," the swashbuckler said, looking at his father oddly. "Father... this obviously took you a lot of time and effort to come up with. Why share it with me?"
"Because I realized two things. One... between yourself and your brother, you are the only one who will actually be able to put it to use," he said, closing the book abruptly. "And two... because it is a waste for me to develop spells that will stay in this book alone, unseen and unused by a world where such a thing would prove immensely useful."
"Besides," he added, "Non-elves won't understand it, and those casters who would use it likely don't have the time to research and develop spells far more useful. In the meantime, get back to what you were going to comprehend, so it doesn't get wasted. I'll be meeting with a few people for the rest of the day, so I won't be home until late."
Nodding, Ashathel poured himself into his work once more, unaware of his father's continued gaze. Then, almost as quickly as his familiar, Alampel departed once more, leaving the bladesinger to finish his task.
The next days were uneventful, save for the breakthrough provided by the spell. After adding it to his book, he then proceeded to prepare it the next day, and was both amazed and pleased to see that it indeed increased the speed of his work. Encouraged by the breakthrough, he settled himself in and spent the next few days taking in all the spells he intended to learn until, at noon of the day before he was to leave, he completed the task. Satisfied, he headed out to stretch his muscles, which had spent the week taking an unaccustomed rest from combat.
-={^}=-
"I didn't expect to see you out here," Ella said, as the bladesinger departed his residence. "I suppose you're getting ready to leave now?"
"Tomorrow; I didn't expect to get this much done here this week, but I didn't want to stop until I was done," Ashathel replied. "But perhaps, another time not too far in the future, I'll be able to come back and really visit."
Ella nodded, standing in silence as the swashbuckler joined her. Then, after a few minutes, she asked, "I don't suppose you have your flute on you? I mean... it was nice hearing your music before, and I wouldn't mind hearing it again before you left."
"Sure," Ashathel said, glad to put the instrument to use once more. He started off playing what seemed to be a dirge, then rapidly sped up the tempo, until it became almost the opening for a summer festival. And, letting his feet follow the beat, he slipped into a lively jig, flattening the frosted grass as he headed for the entrance into the rest of the forest. Ella, caught in the whirlwind tug of the music, followed suit, waving and smiling at the elves perched in the tree as the pair headed for the rest of the snow-covered wood.
By the time they had finished, they were off the stone track and on the worn trail the bladesinger had entered on. Panting lightly and laughing loudly, the female elf held onto Ashathel's arm to steady herself.
"I didn't expect to have so much fun with that," she said, still smiling. Then, frowning, she let go and added, "I should let you get back... you have to leave tomorrow..."
"What is it?" Ashathel asked, crossing his arms. "Look... something been on your mind for a while now. You can tell me what it is."
"I... I haven't seen someone as lively as you in a long time," she said, after a minute's pause. "Not since before the Cult, and then not since I got to Brodaleaf. And even here, you're not like the rest. I just... it reminds me of a better time, and I don't want to see it gone."
"You remind me of someone," the bladesinger said, smiling slightly. "Truthfully... I haven't been like this since I got back home. I started off like this, a season ago, but all the fighting has taken it's toll, I guess."
"Have you thought about the answer to my question?" Ella asked, looking to the elf before her. Nodding, Ashathel replied, "I have... and I think I have an answer."
"Which is?" she asked, anxiously.
"It doesn't have to be lost," the combat caster said, an air of triumph coming with the words, as if he'd come to a great ephiphany. "Sometimes, it has to change... but as long as there's life, nothing important is lost that can't be found again."
Elamoressa simply stared at the oldest of the Faesaen sons, her face unreadable for the most part. Then, her features softening, and lips forming a smile, she said, "You really are different, Ashathel Faesaen."
"So I've heard," he replied, a slight smile on his face. "I've realized that this trip was more important than I really realized... it doesn't feel like a week has passed already, but I can feel the substance of it all. More importantly... I can feel things I felt I lost, and I want to try and hold onto those more tightly while I'm gone from home."
The elven woman looked at the bladesinger carefully, as if studying him. Then, speaking softly, she asked, "What would you do, if you wern't fighting?"
"I don't know," he said, thinking aloud. "Sometimes I think I'd join Faralon, and just tour the world as best we could. But other times, I want to settle here, maybe take up magical study more seriously. And just as often, I want to just be the dashing hero, who rides off into the sunset, never to be seen again."
"So I guess," he said, "I just want to walk. Pick a direction, start walking... and see where the road takes me. And then, one day, I could just stop, and settle down or come home... just do something quiet."
"I see," Ella said, nodding. "I... I don't know, maybe this is silly... but I want to hear more about what happened. With the Cult and everything."
"Well, it's funny, really, because I didn't know what I was even going to the castle for," the elf began. "And I apologize in advance, because there are some things I can't really tell anyone. Not yet, anyway... and some of them never."
"Oh..." she said, her head bowing.
"But it still leaves plenty to talk about, and you can still get the idea without that stuff," he added quickly. "See, it started four months ago - at that point, I didn't even have Telithe yet..."
-={^}=-
"It was so nice to have you over again," Ashathel's mother said, smiling at the others assembled for the meal. "You should come over more often... with my boys gone, it's really just Alampel and myself to cook for."
"I still have to care for my parents; my mother's alright now, but my father still has a way to go before he'll be able to walk and talk like he used to," Ella said. "But it would be nice to get to know someone else here, for however long I will be here."
"Are you planning on leaving sometime soon?" the elder mage asked, looking carefully at the younger woman.
"I want to go look for my brothers and my sister," she said. "Some of the other scouts who came with me... they're willing to go with me too, and I think it would be better than just sitting here, waiting for news every day."
"Dear, it's not safe out there at all," the swashbuckler's mother said, before her husband cut her off. "Rilanna... the Cult has been all but pushed off of the island, and the prince is working hard to get things back to the way they were. We're probably the safest place in the world right now."
"It's getting late... I should get home," Ella replied, smiling. Nodding in her direction, Ashathel rose with her, taking up his weapon and his cloak as he departed.
"Your mother worries a lot," she said, once the pair was past the doorway. She seemed ready to say more, but a small shadow leapt from the top of the house and onto the swashbuckler's shoulder, worming into the warm comforts of his clothing before sticking a furred head out.
"He was really cold," Ashathel said, shrugging. "I'm sorry if he scared you, though it's actually funny because Brassalg scared the daylights out of him when I got here."
"I see," she said, smiling slightly as she regained her composure. "Brassalg?"
"My father's familiar; blink dog," he said, assuming it would be enough. When she looked to him, expecting more, he continued, "Blink dogs teleport around a lot; Brassalg just popped in, and scared the daylights out of Telithe."
"I see," she repeated, her smile widening. "Can I touch him?"
"If he's okay with it, sure," he said, extending an arm so the mongoose could crawl across. Sure enough, the familiar darted across the swashbuckler's outstretched limb, onto the shoulder of the elven woman. Moving quickly, it huddled under her cloak, getting out of the cold atmosphere.
"Sometimes, I'm tempted to leave him somewhere warm," Ashathel said. "He can take the cold, but I can tell he doesn't like it at all and I feel bad, since the fort's not all that warm."
"The fort... it's not really the kind of place someone could go visit, is it?" Ella asked.
"No... not really no," Ashathel replied.
"So... I guess this will probably be the last time I see you in a long time, if at all," she said.
"Maybe... maybe not. I don't know when I'll be back," he said.
"And if you knew you'd be free in a day, or a week, or a month... would you come back here?"
"I might consider it," Ashathel said, stopping. "Do you know when you're going to leave?"
"Not really... it all depends on how my father feels," Ella said, stopping besides him. "When he's well... I'll go."
"What if I said I could try to work some magic?" he said, beginning to walk again. "We have a lot of poweful spellcasters... maybe one of them wouldn't mind sparing some time to try and track down your siblings."
"Would you really do that?" she asked, hope illuminating her features.
"All I can do is try," Ashathel said. "It's the least I can do to thank you for giving me something important to think about."
Smiling, Ella continued on in comfortable silence, joined by the bladesinger for a few minutes more until reaching her temporary home. Bowing slightly, the mongoose hopped back onto his shoulder as the swashbuckler said, "You have reached your door without incident, I believe... my work is done."
"Thank you," she said, stopping to look Ashathel in the eyes. "I really mean it... thank you. And I have a favor to ask."
"Sure... what is it?"
"Please stop by here before you leave tomorrow," she said. Giving him one last look, she departed, leaving the bladesinger much warmer than he had been the last night he had found himself there.
-={^}=-
The large, three-story home looked much different in the sunlight; not just warmer, or bigger, but more... homely than it had before. He had begun to admire the shape of it all, when motion from inside caught his eye. Seconds later, Elamoressa exited, holding a rolled up piece of paper, with a large ring around it.
"These are the names of all my missing siblings," she said. "I hope it helps you find them."
"And I hope it helps too," he said, accepting the item presented to him. "And the ring?"
"A reminder than things outside of here aren't the same as inside," she said, stepping closer. Quickly, she placed her lips against his cheek, giving him another look before bounding back into the house.
"I still have it," he told the familiar, though the mongoose was still asleep inside his tucked-in shirt. Shaking his head, he pulled the flute free, the whistling notes it released seeming to lighten the already illuminated day. In this manner he walked, checking his new spellbook quickly, before taking his time to play songs. The next he played came as he realized he would be heading back into more fighting, and the stifled, squeaking rasp of his instrument indicated his feelings on the matter.
But, as he looked around, he realized that he could at least hold on to memories from the week he spent here, and this thought returned skill to his fingers and joy to his notes. Finally, looking around with a smile, he played the very same song he'd started with when he entered the forest a week prior, playing notes that seemed to linger long after he'd been magically whisked back to Fort Odalia.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Tue Apr 08, 2008 8:29 pm
Enrick takes an idle stroll around Fort Zook, whistling his character theme as he ponders his next adventures. Sheila dashes up to the nobleman. "Oh there you are! Been looking all over for you!" Enrick's black eyes set on the sharpshooter. "Oh, good day Sheila! Looking for me?" He looks around and smiles softly before adding in a low voice, "Need fashion tips to awe your enemies? *chuckle*"
Sheila laughs. "Naw, figured I'd just use my awesome beauty for that, hehehe! No, kidding aside, I heard you were hunting. Hunting for TREASURE. This I want in on."
Enrick's face brightens up. "Oh, but of course! Why didn't I think about it sooner! You'll fit right in the group! We're visiting all of Rune! This is very... ah, greatful!"
"Really? So I can come then?" Sheila asks with a big smile. "Awesome! Y'see, I was talking with Tel, and she convinced me that I should get like a house here or something for vacations! To do that, I need some gold that isn't going into the Rangers fund! And since you guys were out treasure hunting, I figure that would be a good way to do that!" Sheila says with a smile. "So long as I'm not needed on a mission, I should be able to burn leave time to tag along! I can't wait for the next hunt!" Sheila says with a squeal of joy. "This is going to be awesome! It's been all war for too long, a proper adventure is gonna be a nice change of pace!"
"Sounds like a fair trade if you ask me. Um... Adventure!... is the spice of all things!" Enrick declaims theatrically, one hand extended to the sky, the other pressed against his chest, "Welcome, Sheila, our new member! Welcome to the illustrious team of the heroic Treasure Hunters! The lands are ours to explore and the shinies abound in most! Let us wait no longer for the thrilling hunt awaits! Arm yourself with courage and wit! Dash in every corner of the world and find where all its wonders lie!" He halts his speech and turns to Sheila, "How is that?"
Sheila nods. "Pretty nice, pretty nice... Anyway, be sure to tell me when we meet up for a hunt, OK?"
"Disragarding my player's intolerance and greediness, I'll make sure you're not left out! You don't want to miss the wondrous and eventful trip to... *smirk* Uranbatol, do you?"
TheUnknownMarine: Does he actually say that?
Lord Oddeye 23: maybe not the first part lol
"The coastal fortress city? Of course not!" Sheila says with a grin. "I'll see you then eh?" Sheila says with a wave as she turns to leave.
"Sooner than you can say 'Let's go treasure hunting!'!" Enrick replies enthusiastically, "Until next time, fellow adventurer!"
Sheila waves as her speeding feet carry her into the distance.

Posted by: Alpha Tue Apr 08, 2008 10:52 pm
It's a couple of days since Laeralas et al. sought out Talacre, and the green haired brothers are sitting against the wall of a storehouse on the east side of the Fort Ordalia grounds. Despite the cold weather due to the season and the mountain height, they aren't bundled up moreso than usual - Laeral has conjured a small sphere of fire to keep them warm.
"So, what do you think?" Laeral asks.
"Of what," comes the reply, the younger brother smirking.
With a sigh and roll of his eyes, Laeral clarifies. "Of the people here, of this place, of our quest. You'd think that much would be obvious," he says, verbally jabbing at his brother.
Tal's smirk widens to a grin, glad that he can still get to his brother. "Yes well, you think a lot of things," he says with a laugh. "I don't know really. I haven't met or spoken to enough people to really have made up my mind. I saw some of those... space people did you call them? They were running around a court yard. They don't seem to say or do much, apart from train and fight." He shrugs. "There are plenty of others around though. Maybe I should get to know a few."
"Well that's certainly true," Laeral says. "There certainly are a lot of us around." At least you haven't met the elf hater yet, he thinks, knowing that any meeting between those two could not end well. Whilst Laeral though Caius amusing in his attitudes, Talacre certainly wouldn't. Supressing a sigh, he goes on. "Well, try and talk to some people. I can vouch for us in Alex's group, though to be honest, I haven't spoken to many others either." Then with a glance around, he reiterates an unanswered question. "What about this place?" he asks.
Following his brother's look, Tal frowns. "Doesn't compare to home at all," he says, and from his tone Laeral can tell his brother is slightly home sick. "I mean, there aren't even any trees! Well, there's one, but that hardly counts. I...I already miss Stamp," he admits.
With a smile, Laeralas puts a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry, I miss it too. I suspect we'll go back soon enough, so don't worry about that. And I'm glad we appear to be thinking the same thing," he says. "This place certainly needs some trees."
"Yeah, but there's not exactly a lot we can do about that," Talacre replies, slightly flustered. "Not only is this not the best type of ground, even if we did plant some it'd take too long. Unless..." and he turns to look at his older brother. "Can...can you do it?" he asks. "With magic?
"I can't personally," Laeral replies. "But there is a fairly cheap magical item that can create one," he quickly adds before his brother's mood drops. "Perhaps we should ask whoever is in charge of the base if we can 'plant' a few."
"But you don't know who that is, do you?" Talacre asks, following his brother's use of words.
"Not yet," Laeral responds. "But I'm sure Alex would know. We can go ask him in a bit," he says. "But first...I want to see how good your swordwork has gotten."
Talacre laughs at this. "I take it you didn't see me in the Cultist camps," he says, grinning, though he sounds intrigued at what his brother's saying.
"Oh, I saw," Laeral says, sounding unimpressed. "Cultists and lesser demons," he says. "Hardly worth counting. I want to see how you'd hold up against a skilled opponent.
Talacre shrugs, and tries to casually reach for the courtblade lying on the ground at his side. Exploding into action, he grabs it and swings at his brother. The strike passes straight through the illusionary form of Laeral, only to bury into the ground. Laughter then ensues from a few metres away.
"Too slow, brother," Laeral calls, having teleported away and leaving an image behind almost a minute ago.
With another shrug, Talacre rips his sword out of the ground and charges his brother, the contest now on. Before the quick elf can cross the distance though, Laeral has another spell cast, and Tal's strike passes through again, though if he had hit it would have been powerful. Hopping around the displaced form of his brother, the dervish swings again, a powerful overhead chop. Though on target this time, Laeral easily gets his daggers up in time, crossing them as the hilts to catch his brothers sword, though he winces slightly at the power of the attack. With a slight wince of his own in frustration, Talacre withdraws and moves around, offering two horizontal slices at his brother, one high and the other low. His frustration seems to grow as Laeral ducks the first and hops over the other.
With Talacre's momentum played out, Laeral mutters an arcane word and his daggers start glowing. With a grin, he then launches into a flurry of rapid attacks. The grin disappears though as his insanely quick brother dodges the first, then he over swings with the second, before his third and fourth strikes are picked off by well placed parries.
"This is going to be more interesting than I thought!" Laeral comments with a laugh, as a slight distortion appears before him, a magical shield taking place. His grin reappears as another of his brother's strikes misses due to displacement, and he deflects another by pushing the courtblade away with both his daggers. The grin dissolves into first surprise and pain, as Talacre simply uses that momentum and executes a spin, swinging around so the flat of his courtblade connects solidly against Laeral's soldier.
[30 damage]
"You're slowing down, brother!" Tal taunts, more confident that he's finally scored a hit. Retracting his blade he rolls left and comes up to his knees with a short, but heavy thrust. He misjudges the distance however, and the strike falls short.
"Ah, but you forget, brother," Laeral replies, seemingly undaunted. "First hit may count, but last hit counts for more." Pivotting, he launches into another flurry of attacks, chanting as he does so. Despite all of his attacks either missing of being parried, he does not seem worried, as a small dagger of force materialises behind his brother.
"That's all very well," Talacre laughs, "But if you can't get a single hit, then getting the last one definately won't be yours." He then launches another series of attacks at Laeralas, jumping and spinning full circles as he does so. The first three miss, but despite this the blade dancer's momentum only seems to be growing. The final hit strikes the daggerspell mage on the side of the head, leaving him reeling.
[Upgraded crit, 75 damage]
Rolling with the blow so as to not lose consciousness and lessen the damage, Laeral comes up at Talacre's side. "Now, now, brother," he says, trying to keep his confidence, though it's obvious he's at near defeat. "Now I'll have to really teach you something." He begins another attack, but this time his first strike only needs to touch the dervish, and a wave of magical energy shoots into Talacre. Cold energy wracks his body, and his mobility appears severely damaged.
[Shivering touch. 13 DEX damage]
With his newfound advantage, Laeral presses the attack. His first two strikes are deflected by Talacre's finely crafted armour, but the third whacks the elf on the side of his head, returning the favour.
[31 damage]
Reeling himself now from his brother's spell, Talacre attempts to regain the offensive advantage, but with his dexterity hampered, he finds it quite difficult. Testiment to this is that all his attacks miss, causing Laeral to begin grinning once more.
"Come on Tal, now isn't the time to be slowing down!" he says, now his turn to taunt. His confidence grows as another attack hits his brother, and then even more as Talacre continues to miss. With a grin, he presses the attack, the elder brother knowing he has the advantage. Yet another hit goes through and his grin widens.
[33 damage, 30 damage]
Stopping for a moment, Talacre shakes his head, try to gain some semblance of control once more. His first hit misses due to Laeral's displacement spell, but when he alters his strike to accommodate, he finally manages to connect. This final hit proves too much for his brother, who folds up unconscious onto the floor.
"Last hit counts, I guess," the younger elf says with a laugh. Picking up his brother, he carries him back to the fire, to wait for him to come around. Despite winning, Talacre was impressed - not many people could keep up with him these days, and his brother had done so well. With a grin, he settles against the wall once more, trying to regain his breath and wincing at his newly acquired bruises.
After about twenty minutes, Laeral still hasn't come around, and with a sigh, the younger elf reaches into a pouch and pulls out a potion. Uncorking it, he pours it into Laeral's mouth. After a few seconds Laeral comes around, spluttering somewhat.
"So," Laeral says, not missing a beat. "Who won?"
Talacre roars with laughter at this, and then helps his brother to his feet. "Come on," he says, mirth in his tone. "Let's go find Alex." Using each other for support, the elves stagger a bit a first, before making their way to find the hero.
====================
The elven brothers, both looking weary, battered and covered in bruises find Alex after not much searching. "Ah, Alex," Laeral says, as if his appearance is completely normal. "We'd like to have a word with you."
*Alex folds his arms as he looks at the two, noting the bruises.*
"What happened?"
Talacre merely grins, whereas a hint of embarrassment crosses Laeral's features, something quite rare. "We had a sparring match," he says. "I lost."
*Alex chuckles, shaking his head.*
"Ouch. Well, Talacre put forth a lot of effort into it, I'm sure. You two are fairly competitive, aren't you?"
Talacre shrugs. "Not really," he says lightly, with a glance at his brother. "He just felt the need to test my skills against a 'worthy' opponent. Normally though, Laeral won't spar unless somebody really pushes him to."
*Nodding, the paladin responds.*
"Well, I don't often spar, either, but I'd be happy to do so sometime if you're up to it. It's not quite the same as when I'm not fighting fiends, obviously...Anyway, want me to take care of some of those wounds? Though my brother's better suited for that sort of thing, so you should probably look for him when you're sick of the bruises."
Laeral doesn't say anything to Alex's offer, but Talacre nudges him in the ribs. "I'll be fine, but he could do with some, Alex. He's only just regained consciousness," Talacre says, the younger elf grinning.
Obviously not impressed, Laeral mutters a couple of arcane words, and a pebble shoots up from the ground, knocking Talacre on the underside of the nose. Then, acting as if he'd done nothing, he bows slightly to Alex. "Yes, I'd gladly accept some healing," he says.
*Alex narrows his eyes at Laeralas.*
"That's not how my soldiers act. Apologize to your brother first."
With first a frown, and then a shrug, the older elf turns to Talacre. "My apologies, little brother," he says sincerely.
Talacre, in truth not too bothered, used as he is to his brother's antic, offers a grin and nod in acceptance.
*Laying his hand on Laeralas's bruised arm, Alex nods as Laeralas feels some of his bruises begin to heal.*
"Better. I'm sorry that I can't heal you completely, but that should help a bit."
Laeral nods. "My thanks," he says, already feeling much better as the holy energy works with the potion's effects.
*Alex continues.*
"But while we're on the subject of conduct and orders...You both do a great job on the battlefield, but I'm a little concerned about you. You should be more careful in combat, and I would appreciate it if you listened to my orders before jumping out to track people. I know your intentions were good, and we did have plenty of time to work with. However, in a more dire situation, such behavior is unacceptable. It's all right that you did try to find the fleeing enemy, but know in the future I would appreciate it if you asked me first before simply telling me you're going off on your own. I consider you friends before allies, but when we're on the battlefield, it's more important that I do what I think will ensure that we are as successful as possible, and I will not jeopardize the lives of my friends and comrades if I can help it."
Both the brothers nod in accord, fully accepting what Alex had to say. "Of course," Laeral says. "It won't happen again," and Talacre nods again in agreement.
*Smiling, Alex nods in return.*
"Thank you."
With that now out of the way, Laeral goes on to ask Alex the question they'd sought him out for. "Alex, we were wondering. Do you know who's in charge of construction and development of the Fort," he asks.
*Scratching at his forehead momentarily, Alex responds.*
"I, uh...I think that would be Zook? At least, he's really great at designing and constructing things, so I can only assume he has at least a large hand in things here."
"Ah right," Laeral says. "Now...who's he? And where would we find him?"
*Alex motions over to a large building.*
"He's probably in there. He keeps to himself a lot, as I understand. He's a young gnome - which is striking really, that he should be so well-learned at such a young age."
Talacre smiles. “Our thanks,” he says. “We would like to ask him about the possibility of putting some trees in somewhere on the grounds,” he says.
*Alex smiles.*
"Consider talking to the druids as well, then."
"Oh, are there others besides Johann?" Laeral asks.
*Alex points to where he spoke with Telanna earlier.*
"I believe that's where Telanna stays. I don't know about the others."
Laeral nods. "Ok, well thanks for letting us know," he says. "If you'll excuse us, we'll go see Zook right away."
*Alex nods again.*
"Of course. Take care!"
The elves nod and each offer a bow to Alex before starting off to the indicated building.

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Tue Apr 08, 2008 10:56 pm
Approaching the double doors to the building Zook is supposed to be in, Talacre holds out his arm, stopping Laeralas. He then moves forward with a grin, pushing open both doors in a dramatic style, the cold winter light streaming around him into the room.
With a sigh and a roll of the eyes, Laeralas steps forward, slaps his brother on the back of the head before moving in and calling out.
“Hellooo,” he calls out. “Zook, are you here?”
Zook looks up from inside the still-empty armory, scratch-scratching with a quill inside what Laeralas recognizes as a large spellbook. "Uh, hello," he says, snapping the book shut with a dusty thump. "What can I do for you?"
Walking closer to the gnome, Laeral replies. "Greetings. I'm Laeralas, and this is my brother, Talacre," he says, indicating the other elf. "We heard you were one of those in charge of Fort Ordalia development."
"We were wondering if you'd give us permission to grow some trees here, considering there's only one at the moment" Talacre says. "We come from a village where everybody, even dwarves live in the tree tops. It'd make the fort feel more like home."
Zook stares blankly at the elven brothers. "It's the middle of winter."
Laeral laughs. "We're not asking to plant trees, but for an area to magically grow them," he clarifies.
"It's still the middle of winter. Are you planning on growing pine trees?" Zook points out the single frosted window of the armory, at the single tree in front of the chapel, bare of leaves, where Sorel sits quietly. "I mean if you want to grow a bunch of trees that won't grow anything for a few months, I don't really mind."
Raising a hand to his chin, Laeral thinks on Zook's comment for a moment. "Well, the magic token that creates trees, creates oaks, so not an evergreen. Perhaps one of the druids knows how to raise an evergreen, or maybe there's a variation of the item." After another short pause he continues. "If not, then I don't really mind. It's still growing trees, and leaves will come soon."
"You don't mind though?" Talacre asks. "Where would we be able to put them?"
Zook puts his book and pen down. He reaches into his back pocket for a square of parchment folded very small. He unfolds it, and unfolds it, and unfolds it again. When it's opened completely it's wider than Zook his tall. He lays it on the floor where the elven brothers can see.
"There're two spots where you could stick some trees," Zook says, rubbing his chin. Behind the armories and down behind the stables." He marks the northwest and southeast corners of the map for reference. "The second space is a lot more open, but I don't have any plans for either at the moment."
"Down behind the stables, if that's ok," Laeral replies and half turns to his brother. "If we can get several trees up, then we could connect them, just like back home," he says, to which Talacre nods enthusiastically.
Zook nods. "That's fine. Just tell me where the trees are going to be, and how big they'll be. Anything else?"
"I'm not entirely sure how large they are, but if you like I can find out before we 'plant' any," Laeral says. "Once we know that, we'll plot out where each one will go, and then let you know before we do anything."
"I didn't really expect you to know right now," Zook says, smiling. "Just let me know where they are when you plant them. If it's a magic item they'll probably be a standard size, too."
The brothers elven nod, and Talacre turns to leave, almost hopping with excitement. Shaking his head, Laeral nods to Zook. "Our thanks," he says, returning the smile. "We plan on asking one of the druids about it too," he goes on. "Once we're ready, we'll find you and let you know."
"Have fun," Zook says, leaning down to fold up the map before returning to his book.
Heading outside, Talacre quickly begins walking away.
"Hey, where you going?" Laeral calls out.
"Going to buy some of those tokens you've been going about," he replies. "Catch you in a bit."
With a shrug, Laeral decides instead to seek out one of the Force druids. Heading over to the lone tree in front of the chapel stands, he notices Sorel. Walking up to him, he speaks. "Hello there," he says. "May I have a word?"
Sorel looks up at the approaching elf. "You may have more than that," he says. "How can I help you?"
"Well, more than a single word would make things more helpful," Laeral comments with a smile. "Before I make any questions though, introductions. My name's Laeralas, or Laeral if you prefer. You are?" he asks, extending his hand.
Sorel stands, taking Laeral's hand and shaking it. "Sorel."
"Ah, so you're one of the group leaders?" Laeral replies. "I'm part of Alexander's group."
Sorel shakes his head. "No, I am no more a leader than you are."
"Ah, my mistake then," Laeral says with a shrug. "But anyway, I was wondering. Are you a druid?"
"I am," Sorel replies.
Nodding, the elf goes on. "So you'll able to create trees then," he says, some excitement now tinging his tone.
Sorel frowns. "In a way, I suppose. Do you need a tree?"
"Several, actually," Laeral says, still smiling. "My brother and I hail from Stamp Village, in eastern Parmecia. Have you heard of it?"
"The treetop village?" Sorel asks. "I visited it once, many years ago."
"Yes, that's right," Laeral nods. "Well, my younger brother recently joined us, and he's slightly homesick. So we thought we'd grow some trees here in the style of Stamp. We asked a gnome called Zook, and he said if we have the means, we can use the area behind the stables," and the elf motions with an arm. "I'd hazard that about five or six good sized trees could fit there. And so I've sought out a druid to help. Because although there are magical items that can raise them, that's less...natural."
"A handful of oak tokens would give you trees, sure enough, but they would feel too uniform to be comfortable," Sorel says in agreement. "What sort of trees did you have in mind?"
Laeral doesn't answer for a moment, thinking. "Cedar would be wonderful," he says. "Evergreen and strong branches, if Talacre and I construct some sort of dwelling in them akin to home." He looks to Sorel. "Would that be possible?"
Sorel reaches into a pouch at his side, extracting a barrel-shaped seed cone. "Yes, I think that would be possible. Where are you going to put them?"
"I can show you exactly where, if you like?" Laeral says.
"Very well."
Laeral nods and leads Sorel to the site at the south east section of Ordalia. "This is the spot," he says, spreading out his arms slightly.
Sorel holds the cone into the air. It disintegrates, and five winged seeds spin out over the field, settling into the frozen earth. The druid clenches his hands together, murmuring soft, nurturing words, before pulling his palms apart. With a dry cracking sound, five tall, proud cedar trees rise into the chill air, each one bristling with deep green needles the color of Sorel's robe.
Laeral actually hops with joy at Sorel's display, and claps. "Fantastic!" he cries out, smiling widely. "Simply fantastic!" He then turns to Sorel. "Thank you, thank you so much!"
"It was no trouble," Sorel says in a quiet voice. "We do far too little to make a home of this place."
"Maybe we should continue to make it more of a home, instead of a camp purely here because of war." Laeral comments, also quietly.
"If it were only so easy," Sorel says. "But it is a noble task, one worth taking up."
Laeral considers this. "Do you know of anybody else who doesn't feel at home here?" he asks.
"Most, I would imagine. Especially our companions from the stars."
"Alex mentioned a group meeting would be held soon," Laeral notes. "Perhaps we could raise the issue there," he suggests.
"Perhaps," Sorel says, lifting his gaze to the treetops. "Will you be building homes in these?"
"That would be a plan," Laeral says, also gazing to the mighty cedars. He glances back to the druid. "There wouldn't be anything wrong with that, right?" he asks.
"The trees will hold, if that is what you mean," Sorel says. "But this is a mountain pass. The wind will be especially fierce up in the treetops."
"That's true," Laeral replies. "It had crossed my mind. I've looked into it and should be able to magically heat it. If not, then putting a platform up would do. Just being up there would be enough like home."
It is at this moment that Talacre appears. He notices Laeral, and calls out. "Laer, I couldn't find where to..." and he notices the trees. He is speechless for a moment, and his mouth drops open. His gaze then shifts to Sorel. "Y..you did this?" he asks.
Sorel nods to Laeralas. "That would be a wise decision. Perhaps the builders could help you. I remember once--" he is interrupted by Talacre's arrival. He looks a little surprised. "I... suppose," he says.
In a split second, the younger elf closes the distance and gives the druid a hug, almost teary eyed. Sighing and rolling his eyes, Laeral pulls him off. "This is my brother, Talacre." he says to Sorel.. "Tal, this is Sorel, who called up these trees." He then turns back to the druid. "Please, continue."
Sorel is taken aback by the younger brother's theatrics. With a small smile, he picks up where he left off. "I remember once meeting a family of halflings who made their home in a tree house, on the plains north of Ketto. The winds are very strong there in springtime, and what they did was create a windmill of sorts out of ship sails. They used the mill to do their laundry, make their bread, even stoke their fires at night. It was quite ingenious."
"Ingenious indeed," Laeral agrees. "Constructing something similar might be useful for us here also." He glances back to his brother who almost seems to be quivering. "Tal, why don't you climb one of the trees," he says. Talacre shoots off immediately and scales the tree with amazing ease. Laeral stares at his brother for a moment before turning back to Sorel. "I think I'll bring the idea up with Alex."
Sorel nods. "It would be a sight to see, if nothing else."
Laeral nods in agreement, then his gaze shifts back to Talacre. "I wonder if I should worry about him so much," he says quietly, his usual energetic tone depleted.
"It is good that you watch out for him," Sorel says. "Though it taxes you, I am sure, would you really be able to stop yourself from caring as you do?"
"I will always care for him," Laeral says, still quiet. "And I've never considered it taxing, even three decades ago. It's...," and he stops. "It's a difficult topic." He turns back to Sorel, smiling again, and his tone is back to normal. "My deepest thanks for creating the trees. I think I'm going to follow suit and test them out," and his usual tone is back once more.
Sorel waves. "Enjoy yourself, Laeralas."
With a grin, Laeral waves back, and sprints at the tree, taking a leaping jump.

Posted by: Aldur Tue Apr 08, 2008 11:21 pm
Meanwhile...Kria giggled, humming to herself as she appeared to be lugging a tent around. Ignoring anyone and everyone else, she nods, setting up the tent, A bright garish pink tent...in the centre of the courtyard. Anyone attempting to talk to her during this time would be ignored and pushed out of the way until it was done.
"Ahah! I am, like sooooo a genius!"
She giggles, lugging over a little sign, and hammering it in with a large mallet. Giggling wildly the whole time. She smiles. In glittering purple letters it says.
"Kria Krystalpaw's Tent of Wonder. Enter for relationship advice! Fiend whacking Advice! Or commission your very own bangle! We have it! And like, no stealing my idea."
The warlock then enters, laughing to herself...wondering who would pop in.

Posted by: DragonmasterDon1 Wed Apr 09, 2008 2:34 am
Isyndel hears a voice from above as she reads in the shelter of one of the trees. "Isyndel." Isyndel recognized the voice immediately though her body still spasmed in surprise. Taking a breath, she brought her index finger to her nose to adjust her reading glasses before turning another page. "Hmm, I do wonder," she pondered aloud, "whether it is safe any longer for me to sit under this tree, all things considered."
A chuckle meets the response. "I do think I've improved my skills considerably since last I tried. Care to judge?"
"Not so much," she replied, her grin hidden as she nose was still buried in her book. "I quite enjoy this spot and feel no need to vacate it at the moment, but if you remain still I shall promise to take your word for it for the time being."
"Heh. As you wish," Kyoji says, jumping down and landing near the scholarly elf. "I actually have two questions for you. One professional and one personal."
She turned another page. "Very well. Take your pick which you prefer to begin with?"
"All right. First of all, for an assault I'm planning, I need to know if you can cast a spell of mass invisibility. Barring that, if you can cast invisiblity on many people, one at a time," Kyoji asks.
She closed her book, the conversation catching her interest immediately. "So long as you don't require this within the next day or two, it can be done. The nature of the mission requires stealth, then?"
"Partially. It requires the assault force to traverse a wide open area. I don't like the idea of being seen in such a vulnerable place," Kyoji says. "It only needs to last until the plain is cleared, and we reach the objective, the doors to a hidden fortress."
"Simple enough," she replied, resting her arms over the closed book huddled atop her knees. "If I don't have the necessary materials, I will go and procure them, then."
"Excellent," Kyoji says with a nod. "The... ah, second question then, I suppose. I was talking with some of the others about the differences in culture the lands here have in comparison to my home."
"Interesting topic," the wizardess mused. "So you require input on the elves, then? Hmm." She pressed her finger to the crest of her chin. "Where to begin..."
"Well, I was getting at something else, but actually I'd be very interested in your views on your culture," Kyoji says, leaning against a tree. "Please, continue."
"We are a peculiar sort, no? Fascinated in so many things other cultures find reason to fear, or no reason to regard at all...and yet choicefully ignorant of what everyone deems most important. And perfectly satisfied in that regard, most of us with no intent of changing. Not particularly interesting, one supposes, but likely the most broad generalization one can make and still be correct."
"What do you mean? What do you think your culture is ignorant and fascinated by?" Kyoji asks.
She murmured under her breath, eyes tilted to the side for a moment in thought. "Perhaps ignorant is too strong a word. Still, the world paces further in the direction of science and technology, and further away from the things that have cemented our existence for so long. I often feel, perhaps incorrectly, that my race has or is rapidly losing it's place in the world."
"I've heard about elven tinkers, perhaps your race isn't losing a place so much as changing it?" Kyoji offers. "With time, most things do change, after all."
Kyoji tilts his head. "Do you think that perhaps technology will supplant magic?"
Her eyes darkened. "I think technology will one day supplant everything."
Kyoji is silent for a moment before speaking again. "That is a possibility... but I heard that our world was once built on a union between magic and technology, the two working in harmony. Could it not be so once more?"
"Perhaps, and that is what I am afraid of," Isyndel spoke flatly, cutting silent immediately after as she traced her fingertip over the edges of her book.
Kyoji is quiet for a time before speaking again. "Do you fear that the world may be repeating the mistakes of the Ancients?"
She pursed her lips, locking her eyes with his for a moment, the very motion answering the question better than her words would hope to.
Kyoji nods. "Well... You may be right. This topic isn't exactly... pleasant. Shall we take the opposite route? Magic and nature are the lifeblood of your people are they not?"
She grinned. "You unintentionally demonstrate a difference between our races so casually that I cannot help but be amused. My apologies."
Kyoji blinks. "Not at all, but care to share?"
She nodded in satisfaction. "Humans, in particular, seem so eager to avoid unpleasantry."
"I would say that true of every mortal race," Kyoji says.
"Perhaps," was her simple reply. "Perhaps."
"So, magic and nature?" Kyoji inquires.
"To a great many of us, yes. But as you note, there is marked increase in their rejection in the past years as well."
"Your love of magic needs no notation, but what are your feelings on nature?" Kyoji asks.
She tilted her head in wonder, carefully examining the man as he asked. "Very similar, though I speak less of it."
"Interesting," Kyoji says. "I suppose you were subtly pleased by this grove's appearance overnight? Well..." Kyoji grins. "I suppose you'd have to be to bundle up and read out here rather than by a fire."
"Fire has a beauty of its own. The night's stillness is better absorbed by one's lonesome though."
Kyoji's grin fades to a slight smile. "This is true, but I meant more to point out that it can't be too comfortable out here in the cold. That you'd put up with that in order to read here, says something, I think."
Isyndel giggled quietly. "See, so quick to assume I was referring to you. Such sensitivity," she began, pausing. "Perhaps I am at fault for seeing this as a human trait and not as one of gender."
"The fire disturbs my view of the stars," she continued. "Still, I need at least a portion of its light to read. Quite the conundrum."
Kyoji frowns. "No, not me, I meant to imply that you must love nature to put up with the cold to sit under a tree..." Kyoji shakes his head. "I suppose I need to work on my communication."
"Perhaps the misunderstanding is mine. Still," she started. "Having not returned to the point of your question may give that statement some credibility, no?"
"Perhaps," Kyoji says with a shrug. "Though you may be glad of your elven heritage that you can read at all in this darkness. We humans would need more light to see anything detailed."
"Indeed."
"What are you reading, if I may ask?"
"A book on elementary magical theory, mostly focused on energy manipulation and its long term effect on physical being," she stated, a look of dismay crossing her face. "Light reading settles my nerves, helping me to sleep better."
"Light reading, eh? Not a fan of stories?" Kyoji asks, before a thought occurs to him. "Have you had trouble sleeping then?"
"It simply takes longer to fall asleep without it, is all."
"Ah," Kyoji says. "So then. Do you just like factual books or do you enjoy the occasional tale?"
"Factual books," she replied flatly.
"I see," Kyoji says. "You might appreciate the planned trip to Enrich then."
"I enjoy very little of what we do," Isyndel replied coolly, flipping open the pages of her book once more.
"I think that is true of nearly everyone here," Kyoji says, quietly. "Do you want me to leave?"
"Do not mistake me. I simply wish to retire soon, and I do not like leaving a chapter unread."
"I see," Kyoji says, looking around the camp. "I suppose I should go, then but before I do, I'd like to say something if that's all right."
She nodded, hiding her satisfaction by raising the book above her face, feigning a closer look.
"I don't pretend to know the nature of love. I don't pretend to know the many different facets of it, or be able to identify it at a glance. I don't claim that the moment I saw you I felt some mystical connection, or the like," Kyoji turns toward Isyndel. "However, I do know that as I have grown to know you, I've grown increasingly attached to you, that the more I learn the more I wish to know. Is that love?"
Kyoji sighs. "I do not know. I do not know if what I feel for you is love, or if not love, something that will grow into it. I do not know the future, and do not know if this will turn out to be an infatuation or something more," Kyoji says, looking at the elven wizardess. "However... I would like to find out."
"I thought perhaps I should be upfront about that," Kyoji says, turning his head back to the camp. "Normally... It would be proper of me to wait until after this terrible business with the Cult is finished to say such things. A war isn't a good place for... eh. Such things."
Kyoji sighs. "But the more we fight, the more worried I get about being able to say it. No one knows how much time they have, warriors least of all."
Kyoji falls silent, looking over the campfires in the distance.
She sat silently for a moment, gnawing at her lip uneasily. This was certainly going to require her to read a lot more before bed, she quipped to herself. "Fireflies in the summer's eve," she muttered.
"Have you ever watched them?" she asked quietly. "Really observed them? They twitter and flutter about in what seems to be an aimless dance."
"Sometimes. I always found it a beautiful sight," Kyoji responded softly.
She nodded, exhaling a sigh. "Fireflies are most beautiful when there are many of them in a calm night. The breezes sway them too easily to really appreciate them in their chaos; only in stillness are they really seen for what they are."
Kyoji is quiet for a moment before responding. "Similar to the differences between relationships in war and peace."
She nodded. "And fireflies most often fly alone even then. If they all clumped together we would just think they looked rather silly in the night sky."
"My heart is a nothing to cherish, and even if it were, it dances on the wind. Fickle, yet aimless. Like a firefly." She frowned, scratching at her forehead. "Perhaps this is a silly comparison."
"Not really," Kyoji says, looking at Isyndel. "Many hearts can be described as fickle, but I believe this is because mortals simply do not understand them."
"Many things described as chaotic or wild are just orders of such complexity that most cannot fathom them," Kyoji says, turning his view back to the camp. "The heart is one of the most complex things a mortal will ever deal with."
Kyoji looks down. "I hope to understand my own heart, and maybe I will. Or maybe I won't. Some people do manage such inner awareness."
Kyoji turns to Isyndel. "Do you wish to understand your heart?"
She narrowed her eyes, clearly taking offense. "Have I given the impression that I do not?"
Kyoji shook his head. "Never. I suppose it was more of a rhetorical question, my apologies."
"Why do you say that your heart is a nothing to cherish, though?" Kyoji asks.
She crossed her arms around her knees and tilted her head to the side once more, this time, strands of hair falling to her side as she did so as her eyes glanced toward the ground. "A question I would prefer not to answer."
"As you wish," Kyoji replies.
"I admire the strength of your character, Kyoji, and I cherish the bond of our friendship a great deal," she said weakly, bringing her eyes back to meet him once more. "Please ask no more of me than that."
Kyoji is quiet for a long time before he responds.
"As you wish," Kyoji replies, softly. "I will ask nothing. I have said my peace. I will let you decide what happens next. Whatever your choice, whenever the time, I will respect and abide by it."
Kyoji looks into the wizardess' eyes. "And as you say, I will only ask to retain the bond of friendship whatever your choice is."
She nodded weakly, saying nothing.
"Good night, Isyndel," Kyoji says, giving her a bow before turning to walk into the night. "Sleep well."
"You as well."
"I will try."

Posted by: Kaihaku Wed Apr 09, 2008 7:04 am
[Placeholderish]

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Wed Apr 09, 2008 9:38 am
((Placeholder for Dam Dicem rp to come. Ashathel's trip home is posted further back, in the last placeholder.))

Posted by: Cyrus Wed Apr 09, 2008 6:26 pm
Gail, enjoying a walk in the early morning sunshine, halts her pace when she arrives near the stables, pausing to take in the sight of a pine grove that seems to have moved in and rooted itself overnight. Seeing Telanna sitting under the boughs, the maiden gives a polite smile and walks over with a wave. "Good morning, Telanna."
Telanna looks up, smiling a bit when she sees Gail. "Good morning, Gail!"
Gail nods at the greeting, before her gaze is leveled to the magnificent cedar trees around them. "I was just walking by and noticed all this..." She returns to Telanna, her head tilting slightly. "Do you create all these?"
Telanna shakes her head. "No. I don't know who did." She beams as she tilts her head up to look through the canopy to the morning sky. "But aren't they amazing?"
Gail nods, following the spring child's gaze up, closing her eyes when the sunlight falls on her face. "Yes. I thought at first that they were a illusion, but..." She pauses, turning to one of proud trees and running her fingers against its grey bark. "They're really alive, aren't they?" The angelborn stares at the new life, her smile becoming warmer, before she looks to Telanna and motions to the ground. "Do you mind if I join you?"
"No, go ahead," Telanna replies. "I haven't seen you since we went to Saraband. What've you been up to?"
Gail sits, folding her legs under her while she rests herself against the tree. "A lot...So much, I'm not sure I remember it all," she says with a chuckle, before she brings a finger to her lip in thought. "Let's see...Went to see my mother, visited Graigus's temple, went treasure hunting..." She pauses, looking at the fingers she had been counting off with absentmindedly. "I thought there had been more...no worries. What have you been doing, lately?"
Telanna looks daunted at the list of adventures Gail has had. She clears her throat, drawing her knees up under her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. She stares at the ground. "Uh... nothing, I suppose. Just sort of been... sitting around."
Gail chuckles at Telanna's reaction, shaking her head. "There's nothing wrong with rest...especially now, with all these...missions we get sent on, we need it all the more."
"Yeah..." Telanna says, still looking down. "Still, it'd be nice to have someone to talk to. Everyone's always so busy..."
Gail stares at Telanna, then looks away. "Well...though I can't promise that I'll always be around...we could talk more often. I usually have a few hours to myself each day, if I'm here, so if you wanted to..."
"Hmm, I think I can pencil you in between 4:30 and 5:30..."
voxpvoxd:
cyrus v 2877:
Telanna shakes her head. "Thanks, that's sweet, but I don't want to be a bother. You've got so much to do already. It's alright. I'm used to being by myself." She sighs. "Usually it's quieter, though."
"It wouldn't be a bother," Gail begins to protest, before the spring child's last comment sticks out in her mind. "Quieter?" She gives a glance to the construction work a ways down the path. "You mean all the building?"
"The building, the people, all the different noises people make..." she shrugs. "Back home it was always so quiet because I was all by myself."
Gail stares at Telanna, unsure of what to say. "Does it bother you?"
"Does what bother me?"
"The noise...never really being by yourself anymore."
Telanna traces a circle in the snow with her hand while she speaks. "I don't know. It's like... it's like I have the worst of both worlds. I never have anyone to talk to, but I can't ever get any peace either. I don't know."
Gail feels her teeth lie on top of her lip, pressing down just enough for her to notice. She resists the urge to hide it. "I'm...not sure how much help I can be...but if you feel you need to talk, then I'd be willing to listen."
"I don't--I don't have anything to talk about," Telanna says, not looking at Gail.
A moment passes between them in silence, Gail watching Telanna. "I should be going," the maiden decides, pushing herself to her feet before wiping snow off her bright fuchisa dress, though the bits of snow that she fails to get soon melt away. She gives a small smile to her friend's daughter. "Have a good day, Telanna."
"Bye, Gail," Telanna says to the departing angelborn.

Posted by: Aldur Wed Apr 09, 2008 10:43 pm
Zook comes out of his tent, rubbing his eyes and yawning. His hands fall and he sees the tent Kria put up in the center of the fort. "What the hell...?" Still in his pajamas he starts walking towards the tent, wondering what had happened. He peers around the open flap inside.
Suddenly, with a glittery sparkle, a large purple creature looms before Zook. "Like, welcome! Whatcha need!? Kria Krystalpaw can help with it all!" She giggled, winking at the tinker, moving to sit down on a cushion inside the tent. She gestures to the one in front of it, indicating the mad gnome sit.
Zook drifts into the tent with a befuddled expression on his face. "What...what's this?"
"Well, it's a place for people to come! Talk about their problems! Commission a bangle or...other magic item I suppose, but I do really well with bangles!" Kria nodded eagerly. "Or combat training! I'm good at sparring and teaching people how to not get arcane energies blasted in their faces!"
Zook blinks. "Do you... are you, eh..." He moves his hands in vague circles. "Where the hell did you come from?"
Kria's eyes widen and she nods suddenly. "OH I SEE!" She giggles, leaning in. "Birds and the bees stuff? I think you little guys have the same equipment...where to begin..."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Zook clears his throat. "This is... this is way too much crazy for this time of the morning. You, you purple cat-lady, where did you personally come from, location-wise?"
"Well I believe my mother gave birth to me in a tent in the forests north of Galam. If that helps?" Kria tilts her head to one side, her classic gesture of confusion.
"I knew those tents were no good," Zook mutters. "So, uh, yeah, does this...cost money?"
"Well, for me to listen to your problems, it's like...totally free! But if you want my super cool advice or a bangle, it will cost a little..."
"Oh. What's--what sort of bangles do you make?"
Kria grinned. "Depends on what you want it to do. Higher arcane thingies take longer, and some just want one to wear. I think mauve for you...yes."
"Uh...huh." Zook says, looking about at the garish insides of the tent. "You work with magic?"
"Yuppers! Magical items and magical advice!" Kria replied, rubbing her hands together.
"I suppose I could ask for a bit of both..." Zook mutters. The strange perfumes inside the tent amplify his already-dreamy and dazed state. "I, uh... which would you... would you prefer to do first."
"Well, items and stuff can take awhile, so let's chat. What's up Mr...Zook? Wasn't it?"
"Yeah... wait," Zook blinks. "Don't remember telling you that..."
"You like have...a mini army of minions wandering around here." Kria points out.
"Oh, yeah..." Zook laughs a little. "There's a lot of them, aren't there? Anyway, I've got this... this friend, right?"
"Ok! What's wrong? Girl not like him? He got her in trouble? He has bizarre unexplanable urges?"
"Well, I mean..." Zook stops, and his head flutters a bit. "This place smells really nice, you know that? Anyway, you know how this is a war, right? Lots of fighting and killing and carrying on. Well, my friend, he sort of... he doesn't have the stomach for it."
"I have a nice tea here that'll relax his stomach! Maybe if he drinks it...it could help?" Kria frowned, remembering something. "Or is that one of those...meta...phors?"
"It's an idiom, actually," Zook says. "They're expressions that--that bit's not important. The point is he doesn't have it in him to keep fighting, but he's going crazy trying to find some other way to make himself useful."
"Well, like...I'm not the best one at slaughtering either, but I made this tent thing? Can he not do something similar? Can he make stuff?"
"Well, let's say he could," Zook says. "Mostly he's making stuff that's only good for killing, and that doesn't really make him feel much better."
Kria frowned. "Can he not make non killing things? Like dresses?"
"The problem is he's not bad at killing. If anything he's good at it." Zook's voice gets hoarse and quiet. "He's very good at it." He coughs, looking up. "Toys. He can make toys."
"Well we need more light hearted stuff around here! Like, if he can make toys, he can make little gifts and moving trinkets then! Yay! A business buddy! Bring him here. We can enter a partnership!"
"Yeah, but what if he thinks you're barking mad?" Zook says.
"I'm not mad. You are." Kria replies, sticking her tongue out.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Zook. "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad. Hey!" Zook says, growing indignant. "That's no way to talk about m-my friend."
"Oh well, EXCUSE ME. You like, wanted my advice." Kria retorts huffily
"But who would I-he, he," Zook corrects quickly. "Who would he be making toys for?"
"Well, it depends. You could do something worthwhile. We've like helped alotta towns. Help them rebuild their hearts! Kids like things like that, and it takes their mind off who they may have lost, ya know? Like, Sorel knows where lots of orphanages are. He's into that."
"Into... what? Into orphans?" Zook says, confused.
"Yeah. He like gives them all money and stuff, and helps make them feel good." Kria says, giggling. "He's really nice to them."
"Okay, uh..." Zook starts to rub his temples. "This is getting really weird. What were we talking about?"
"Giving things to kids!" Kria replies.
"Oh. So I should talk to... to Sorel?" Zook says. "About kids. And giving things to them."
"Yeah. Especially orphans! I think he thinks they need it more!"
"Yeah... I guess orphans need something extra..." Zook mumbles, rubbing his chin. "Alright! I'll do it!"
"Yay! Glad I could help! I'm useful!" Kria giggles to herself.
"Yeah..." Zook says. "Thanks. Now, uh, about the bumpers..."
"Bumpers? Bangles?" Kria asks, confusedly
"Right, bangles. Like I said," Zook says, nodding. "D'you work with existing stuff?"
"I like, can. I guess." Kria says.
"Right..." Zook pulls up his sleeves revealing a plain-looking set of bracers. "These are magic, right? But I was thinking the other day, it'd be handy if they told me the time." The tinker fishes around in the pockets of his pajamas, coming up with a pocketwatch. "Can you do that?"
Kria tilted her head to one side, and frowned. "But like, you'd not need magic to...do that? Just like cut a small hole into the bracer and then attach...I could do it."
Zook shakes his head. "No, you don't understand. I want the bracer to tell me the time. I can't afford to keep flailing my arm around just so I know how long I have until I'm an hour late. You know?"
"Ok. Well I could summon some kind of imp..." Kria nods. "And then we could lock it in there. Yeah!"
"An imp?" Zook says, gulping. "Can't you just, like... make it talk? I don't want this thing trying to kill me in my sleep."
"Well, leave it with me! I'll like get right on it!"
"I'm gonna walk out of this tent and it's gonna vanish in a puff of purple smoke, isn't it?"
"Like, no! Don't be silly." Kria waved a hand dismissively.
Zook shrugs. "Works for me." He unclasps the bracers and unhooks the pocketwatch and hands them to Kria.
Kria grins, taking both items and turning away from Zook. There is some shuffling and she turns around again, with her thumbs up. "Two days. Max."
"Max? Do we really need to get him involved?" Zook says, dubious. "He's probably busy."
"Nah, I mean it'll take two days at the most." Kria giggles. "You big silly."
"You're an odd sort of bird, you know that?" Zook says.
"So they say!" Kria nods.
"So, uh, that's it then?" Zook asks.
"Well, unless you need something else?" Kria asks invitingly
"Maybe later," Zook says, nodding.
"Bye bye Zookie!" Kria smiles waving at him.
Zook walks out, quite forgetting to pay.
Kria giggled, so excited by her first client, she also forgets that Zook has not paid.
Zook gets ten paces out of the tent before he stops, blinks, and breathes, "What the hell just happened?"

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Wed Apr 09, 2008 11:40 pm
Viletta is alone the in the barracks, fiddling with her gadgets when she hears a pneumatic hiss and metallic stompings growing closer. Viletta merely raises her eyebrow, idly reaching for her sidearm with one hand, looking out the corner of her eye while still using her democomp.
The door to the third floor barracks opens to reveal a large robot with a minigun attached to one arm, Viletta recognizes it as one of the members of the other teams.
"Hmmmm. You're the only one here?" Gilliam asks.
"Yup." replies Viletta as she puts her gun away, shamlessly resuming two handed typing as she finishes up. She sighs contentedly, turning to look at Gilliam, sizing the robot up. "Hmm."
"I was hoping to ask one of your number about..." Gilliam trails off as Viletta looks at him. "What?"
"Ah, so you're the leftover are you? Never been one for inhumane experiments..." Viletta shrugged. "And I think I'm quite capable enough to answer questions. Unless it's classified, in which case you'd need to talk to Commander Jim."
"Inhumane experiments?" Gilliam asks.
"I personally call removing someone from their natural body into a shell inhumane. Of course those fools in prompt would disagree..." Viletta sighed, shaking her head. "You wanted something?
"Inhumane experiment..." Gilliam snorts. "It wasn't either of those things. I put in this body as a last ditch attempt to save my life, not as part of some study. Yes, I was curious as to you outsiders. Your goals and origins, mainly," Gilliam replies.
"...Really? Back then in your world...ressurection spells didn't exist? And my goal is to do my job. Which is to protect. As for my origins, A small sunny little island country."
"Ressurection worked only up to a point," Gilliam replied. "I was past that point. Protect what? Are you all from the same country?"
"Then such is your fate." Viletta rolls her eyes. "Protect? In this case, this world. And No, we're not."
"No one has a fate but what they make of it, I'm surprised to find someone of science that thinks otherwise," Gilliam says. "You're all from different countries, then?"
"And you don't think your body in little fleshy bits wasn't what YOU made of it?" Viletta giggled a little. "As you can see, I'm not a spokesperson for a good reason. I talk to machines...well, I should be able to be civil to YOU then, eh? And we all come from various places yes. I don't know everyone's history."
"Different worlds, I hear. What was your world like, then?" Gilliam asks.
"Why are you so curious? Does it much matter where anyone comes from? It's all about where they are going." Replied Viletta. "I liked...mine."
"My civilization's attempt to explore other worlds ended in their destruction," Gilliam replies. "Now that the opportunity has come to us, I'm curious at what might've been."
"Well, I can think of a few choice reasons why it ended like it did if your people were anything like that guild in Prompt." Viletta said, somewhat spitefully.
"I don't know of any guild, and thereforce cannot answer that," Gilliam replies.
"You simply lacked the self control to stop yourselves from going too far too soon. Indeed, arrogance is a constant in the world of science. Of course, it's needed...but then, I'd rather be humbled than dead."
"You may be right, but that's an easy thing to say without study of the time or people," Gilliam says, indifferently. "You're avoiding my question."
"Well, are they not the successors? Who else is there? You'd prefer I judge a wiped out civilisation? I mean, epic failure would be the words that come to mind..." Viletta shrugged. "And My world is just a fairly simple, happy one."
"Then tell me about it," Gilliam says.
"Mostly various islands. We all like swimming...it was warm and fairly advanced and civilised. No engines of death and destruction. No need for ugly technological devices. My world developed many cures and helpful devices to aid everyday life." Viletta says this proudly.
"Go on," Gilliam says.
"What more do you want to know? We're a peace loving lot, inept with magic and we cling to water a bit too much."
"Tell me anything about your world," Gilliam says. "What were the cities like? What was the planet like?"
"Well, they were never too big. Due to us all mostly being islands. The planet itself was mostly water. We began to build floating ones...with varying results. It took forever for the engineers to correct the lop sided one." Viletta giggled. "And my world was...well, the word I'd use is serene."
"What was its name?"
geddis the hero: "It's name was...SUIKODEN"
geddis the hero: AHEM
"My world is called 'Tellius'"
"Interesting," Gilliam murmurs. "You use computers a lot, did your home make extensive use of them?"
"Well, for work yes." Viletta replied. "I'm just at home with them."
"Do you have any pictures of your home?" Gilliam asks.
Viletta nodded. She takes her democomp and, taps a few keys. "Here we are." A small holographic slideshow begins to play. Showing various things. From Cities floating high in the sky, to small island towns, children and adults playing on strange devices in the water, and finally to a picture of Viletta with people presumed to be her family. "Don't keep too many on here though."
"That your family?" Gilliam asks, pointing to the picture of Viletta.
"Indeed. My parents." Viletta replies.
"I see. Your home is very lovely. It's very reminiscent of mine before everything collapsed," Gilliam says.
"It must be quite traumatic. I'd hate to outlive everything I ever knew."
"Yes, it's not pleasant at all," Gilliam says, nodding. "And that," he says. "Is the understatement of the century."
"Well you'd know. You've lived this one." Viletta waved a hand. "I'm quite tactless incidentally."
"I hadn't noticed," Gilliam replies, dryly. "Perhaps you should have a sign ready, just to warn people."
"I don't tend to approach them. Unless I'm armed." Viletta replies coldly.
"Then you don't know what you're missing out on," Gilliam replies. "Machines aren't people... With myself being the only exception I've ever met."
"I know. I'm just quite content in my own company. Also, forging lasting relationships with people I'll never see again after this is over would be less...than desirable."
"For one that speaks of fate, how do you know you'll never see anyone here again?" Gilliam asks.
"Because I don't plan on remaining here. And you all are staying here." Kria replies.
geddis the hero: And then leaves.
geddis the hero: Thanks to BANGLE SLIP
TheUnknownMarine: Wait, so Villeta was Kria all along?
TheUnknownMarine: WHAT A TWEEST!
geddis the hero: yeah Viletta said that
TheUnknownMarine: Then just got up and left?
geddis the hero: not that bit
"And of course, distance is an unstoppable obstacle when you have mastery of teleportation and space travel," Gilliam chuckles. "Yes, I see."
"You all need to stand on your own two feet and make your world your way." Viletta says.
"If you think the only reason anyone will ever talk to you is because they want help, that's truly sad. But I'm certainly not the one qualified to help you with your problems," Gilliam says, turning to leave. "Thank you for the information. If nothing else, I find it heartening that some places in creation can manage to be idyllic and... serene."
"Hold." Viletta says suddenly.
"Yes?" Gilliam says, turning.
"You misunderstand. My simply being here, with my knowledge and personality would affect your world. I much like things to progress naturally. The GDO being here...it's needed, but our influence will affect you all I'm sure. I'd like to keep that to a minimum." Viletta smiles. "However, If you need an upgrade sometime..."
Gilliam chuckles. "I'll keep your offer in mind. Upgrades I'm not too worried about, though. My concern for this metal shell is less and less, as the day that I can leave it and return to a real body approaches faster and faster."
"...Then what was the point?" Viletta asks, somewhat confused.
"I spent a very long time isolating myself, more often than not with machines," Gilliam replies. "No matter what their origin, I'd like to spare others the same fate I had back then. Or, if you meant the talk in general, as I said, I was curious about your world."
"Heh." Viletta smiles, shutting her eyes for a moment. "I see. Well, when you have a biological body again, I would hope you've learnt that an...artificial existence is not really a life at all."
"That's something I've learned for quite a while," Gilliam says with a nod.
"Would you do it again then?" Viletta asks curiously.
Gilliam is quiet for a while. "It was absolute hell to endure in this shell for as long as I did... But it also allowed me to last for now. It's allowed me to help protect and guide the survivors of that mistake. It's let me make new friends, and give me the chance for another life."
Gilliam is silent. "Yes... I would. It would not be easy. But I think I would. Of course..." Gilliam chuckles. "Knowing that my body will soon be restored weighs the argument somewhat."
"I see. Well, we all make our own way." Viletta waves at Gilliam, looking at his chaingun ruefully. "What a horribly crude appendage."
"Not much to look at, but easier to maintain then an energy weapon, and with skill, almost as effective," Gilliam says, adjusting the chaingun. "Of course, when you have to go by salvage, you take what you can get."
"Hmm. I see. Well like I said, if you want anything done...do call."
"I shall," Gilliam says, turning. "Farewell."
-----------------
A middle aged human, muscular under loose clothes, approaches the kitchen area.
"Hello," Hal says, looking up from an oven and watching the man approach. "Did Jim send you back here? We're all done with the peeling for the day."
"Why would he send me?" the man asks. "No, I'm here for food."
"Really? Who are you with?" Hal asks. "I thought I knew everyone by face."
"Faces can change," the man says. "I'm with Dam's group. I hear you're quite the cook."
"Oh?" Hal says. "Well, it's not as grand as all that. Just a lot of practice I suppose. You hungry? When was the last time you ate?"
The man is silent for a moment, brow furrowed in thought. "Can't remember the exact time... One thousand twenty five years, four months... two days?" The man nods. "Yes, that's about right."
Hal blinks. "Come again?"
"I will if your cooking is as good as I hear," the man replies, setting down a sack of gold. "I fully intend to pay for, receive, and devour a feast. Cookies. Cookies first. I haven't had chocolate chip cookies... Oh. Oh, I need them now. And milk! You have milk, right?!"
Hal's eyes widen at the sack of gold. He looks dumbstruck. "Well, I uh... One moment please."
He heads into one of the narrow pantries at the rear of the kitchen and comes out with a basket. Inside the basket is a cloth-wrapped bundle. "Just made these this morning. And..." He crouches down, coming out of one of the cold stone larders with a small glass pitcher filled with frothy white liquid. "Here you are. Milk and cookies."
"Thank you," the man says, grabbing one of hte cookies and taking a bite. A look of bliss comes over his face before he crams the whole thing in his mouth and begins to chew enthusiastically. Shortly after, he grabs the milk and takes large gulps out of it before swallowing it with a contented sigh. The man then continues to eat like a starving wolf.
"Mmmphns?" he asks, muffled with a mouth full of food. "Oooo ooo ave nee mmmphns?"
"Mmmphns? Mmmph...mmmmf...mmmfins...muffins?" Hal asks. "D'you mean muffins?
The man nods, empathically.
"Hmm..." Hal says, turning and heading into another pantry. "I think we've got some left over from bre--aha!" He comes out with a tray of four very large, soft muffins dotted with dark blueberries.
The muffins are soon snatched out of Hal's hands and one by one, jammed into the man's mouth.
"MmmmmmmM!" the man mumbles, looking blissfully at the sky. "Hvn!"
"Uh...huh." Hal starts to look a little nervous. "Don't you think you're going to get sick?"
The man swallows it all down and then gasps for air with a smile.
"Yeah, probably. It's worth it, though. I should try to control myself better, but it's harder than I thought it would be," the man says with a grin. "If I do get sick, you can make it go away, right?"
"Yes, but that's hardly a reason to go off and do it on purpose!" Hal says, slightly cross.
"Hardly doing it on purpose," the man says, taking regular bites out of the cookies now. "Oooooh Light that's good. Delicious. I'd forgotten how good chocolate melting in the mouth could taste."
The man shakes his head. "Anyway, not eating to get sick, that's just a byproduct."
The man continues to eat, occasionally biting off more than he can chew, but slowly getting a handle on the amount he ingests.
Hal continues to watch the man eat, mostly to make sure he doesn't burst at the seams.
Soon the pitcher is drained and the cookies and muffins gone. The man sits on his chair with a content smile.
"That was worth it. What's for dinner?"
For a moment Hal looks as if he's about to faint. He recovers easily enough. "Lamb," he says hesitantly, as if afraid the man would demand an entire grazing flock for his supper.
"When's it being served?" he asks.
"Probably around six," Hal says.
"Have anything ready to eat right now?" the man says, looking through the sack of gold and counting out thirty pieces, putting them on the table. "That's for the best damn cookies I've eaten in millenia."
"I don't really...charge...money..." Hal says, his voice getting increasingly softer. "There's still some stew left over from lunch, I think."
"Then give it to someone that needs it, I have to show you some appreciation for all this," the man says, pointing at the empty basket. "Can I get some stew? And some wine. Good wine. Best you have."
"Stew's going to take a bit to reheat," Hal says, "But I can get the wine..." He heads into the pantry for a third time, coming out with a large lidded pot and a dark bottle. He plops the pot onto a kindling fire and hands the man the bottle. "Here you go. Glasses on the rack behind you."
"You are truly a servant of good," the man says, taking out a glass and pouring some of the wine out. "You want some?"
"I don't drink," Hal says, shaking his head. "Thanks though." He turns around to tend to the stew, which was steaming gently. "That ought to do it." He ladles some into a large bowl and puts it down in front of the man with a spoon and a hunk of bread.
The man chuckles. "A man of the cloth that's not a man of the vine? How odd."
The man slowly drinks the wine, savoring it as he eats the stew. "Regardless, you have my thanks. You can't imagine how much this means to me."
"You're telling me," Hal says. "Back at the monastery most of the brothers took better care of their liquor cabinets than their prayer books. And they took very good care of their prayer books."
"Some cultures have argued that booze is proof the Light loves us and wants us to be happy," the man says, still eating.
"Some others have argued that it's proof the Light wants us distracted," Hal says. "But you're right. No harm in a little libation every now and again. It's just not something I enjoy. Like the stew?"
"I love it," the man says, finishing the meal up, and downing the drink. He sighs. "A little too much. I think if I don't stop now until dinner, I'll be regretting it."
"Probably," Hal says, still watching the man with an expression of concern. "Anything else I can do for you? Need a team of gnomes to carry you out in a wheelbarrow?"
The man laughs. "That might be fun. No, I'll be fine. I'm just going to sit a bit and let things settle."
"Alright," Hal says. "Try not to fall over. I doubt you'd be able to get yourself back up."
The man pushes another fifty gold coins towards Hal. "Here. If nothing else, use it to buy good food with."
With an uncomfortable expression Hal scoops the gold up and puts it in a pouch on his belt. "Thank you, sir, that's very generous of you."
"Pffft, I'm no sir. You're welcome though."
Meanwhile, a scraggly little orphan boy walks up to Hal with a chipped bowl. "Please sir, I want some more."
Hal kicks him off the mountain.

Posted by: Aldur Thu Apr 10, 2008 1:11 am
"Hey, what's this tent thing doing here?" Sheila wonders as she walks in. "WELCOME!" Kria cries out, from her perch on her cushion. "What can I do for you?" "Hey, it's the cool cat I drank with!" Sheila says with a grin, holding out a hand. "How's it going?"
"It's going well Space Woman! Do you need something?" Kria asks eagerly as she shakes the hand.
"I need nothing, but want a whole bunch!" Sheila says, looking around the tent. "You selling stuff here? What kind? Oh, uh..." Sheila snaps her fingers. "Kria! That's your name, right?"
"I sell bangles, magical items on commission and like, gossip!" Kria says with a wide grin.
"What kind of bangles, magic, and gossip? Can I start a tab? I've got like no spending money now, but I'm going to go treasure hunting soon, and I'm sure to come back with a ton of cash!" Sheila asks.
"Sure! Tabs last two weeks! Then I send the bill to your commander!" Kria giggles. "Well, I have a range of pretty things around the tent as you can see...I can forge...err I mean craft various magical things that you want. I need to know what you want though. And I'm good at listening. And advice giving."
"Ooooh, I could really use a souvenir!" Sheila says, snapping her fingers. "And if that souvenir happens to have a magical function, I might be able to write it off as a work expense!"
"well I have a bangle here that can change colour rapidly..." Kria frowns, looking around. "Does that work?
Sheila frowns. "That'd make a neat souvenir, but..." Sheila shrugs. "What the heck, how much for it? I can put that one on my personal tab."
"First purchase is free!" Kria giggles. "Thank you for your patronage!"
Sheila winces. "Oh darn! If I knew that, I'd have asked for the magical gloves first!"
Kria winks. "Oh well! So, how's tricks?"
"Tricks?" Sheila asks, blankly.
"Things? Life? You?" Kria frowned.
"Oh, I'm great!" Sheila says with a grin. "Fort's full of interesting people, we're out fighting evil, going to find treasure! What more could a gal ask for?"
geddis the hero: "Romance?" Kria asked slyly.
Sheila grins, then giggles a little. "Too true! But that'll happen when it happens! I'm not worried about that!" Sheila grins. "Though speaking of romance, do you want in on the betting pool?"
Kria raised her eyebrows. "Which one?"
Sheila's eyebrows shoot up. "Wha... There's more than one?"
"Well I would assume so in a place this big." Kria replied. "What's yours?"
"Adam and I have a running bet on a bunch of things," Sheila says with a grin. "We call it our betting pool. Anyway, since this is turning out to be one of those standard epic heroic quest things, we're taking bets on what happens."
"We save the day and go home, like...seems good." Kria nods.
"Well that's a given. I meant the little stuff. Like the Doc," Sheila says. "I bet that he'd end up falling for that paladin woman, Gail. Adam bet he'd end up with Tel." Sheila chuckles mischeviously. "And so far, I'm winning that bet."
Kria frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Really? Is that what you think?"
Sheila frowns. "Why? I've got good info, is there gossip otherwise?"
Kria shook her head. "Not that I'm aware. Any others?"
"Well, I can't reveal the bets on you of course," Sheila nods. "But let's see... There's a bet running that that one crazy leader... Dam! There's a bet that he's going to end up with the devilish rogue, Kay-something. Longshot there, though. Hmmmm..."
"Whaaaaa!?" Kria exclaims. "There's one on me!?"
Sheila blinks. "There's one on everyone. But you're not allowed to know about the bet on you, cuz it might affect what you do. That's the rule."
"Not even for a freebie?" Asks Kria coyly
Sheila's face twists in conflict. "But... But... it won't be fair... if..." Sheila looks from side to side. "Well..." Sheila whispers to Kria's ear. "I can give you a hint."
"If the hint has anything to do with a green kittykat, you get nothing." Kria replies cheerfully.
"Yes!" Sheila says, pumping a fist. Then her face falls. "Oh, er, nothing."
"I didn't just not NOT win a bet with Adam again."
"What are you talking about? I'm just incredibly aware of how my best friend feels about me." Kria shrugs. "Doesn't mean anything. So, the hint?"
"The hint," Sheila replies with grave seriousness. "Is horns versus fur versus hair."
geddis the hero: "Hair? But everyone has hair."
"Not everyone," Sheila says with a shrug. "Anyway, there's another bet on Max." Sheila winces. "I hear the circumstances there doesn't make it as carefree as I'd like though."
"Wha? He's with Anri." Kria nodded. "It's a cert."
Sheila frowns. "That's normally what I'd say! But I hear that she went nuts or something, and things have been wierd cause of that."
Kria looked at Sheila. And then began to snigger, her giggling eventually turning into full fletched laughter that made her roll around on the floor laughing. "Oh...wow. You're like...so behind."
"What? Hey, don't give me that, I've been real busy!" Sheila complains. "What'd I miss?"
"I'm pretty sure they're an item." Kria said.
"Well, yeah," Sheila says. "But it's been said by some that the wierdness might cause a split."
"Well they like, seem happy together lately." Kria shrugged.
Sheila shrugs. "My money is still on them staying together, it's just that there's a longshot they won't. Oh, speaking of which, there's another bet going around saying that in the course of battle, someone's bound to fall for someone in one of the old Shining Forces," Sheila nods. "Bets are on if no one does, one does, two do, or more do."
"Wowie. You lot are bored." Kria remarks
"Not so much that," Sheila winces. "Adam really, really has a gambling problem."
"I noticed. I should open a gambling corner..." Kria muses.
"Oh gods. If you do, I think he'll be flat broke in a minute flat. I bet he'd bet on how long it takes him to run out of money, even!" Sheila says, placing a palm to her forehead. Anyway, back to bangles."
"Like, alrighty!" Kria smiles, spreading her arms, showing off her wares. "So. Like, anything you need?"
"Where's the free one you said I got?" Sheila asks. "I wanna see it."
"For the hint? Well..." Kria turns, ruffling around in a bag. "Here. It plays a tune!"
Sheila smiles as she takes the bracelet. "Thanks! It's really pretty! Hey, uh..." Sheila looks around, pulling a pair of fingerless gloves out of her pocket. "Do you think you can make an enchanted version of these?"
"Well sure. Whatcha need?" Kria asked eagerly.
"Well," Sheila says, handing the gloves to Kria. "I don't want them all sparkly an' stuff. Just plain black, the simplicity of soldier gloves is what makes 'em stylish. As for the enchantment, can you make them make me more agile?"
"Oh!" Sheila says, snapping her fingers. "There is one exception to the plain rule! I think it'd be neat to have a little something stitched on them in silver thread."
"Okies so far!" Kria grinned widely. "Whatcha want stitched? Or should I improvise?"
"No, but help me decide," Sheila says, nodding. "I want... Something to remind me of this mission. The good parts, anyway. What would do that?"
"Hmm...Well...how about..." Kria frowns, thinking about it. "A star?"
Sheila frowns. "Naw, that wouldn't do it... Something to remind me of this place and all you guys specifically. Oh!' Sheila says, snapping her fingers. "What about a tiny fort between two mountains?"
"Hey, like that's kinda nice!" Kria smiles.
Sheila grins. "You like it?"
"Yeah! I can like, work with that easily!" Kria giggles, clapping her hands together. "Yeah! Today is a good day!"
"Awesome!" Sheila says. "How long will it take? How much will I owe ya?"
"Well, I've got some other things to do, so shall we call it three days? As for price...well, I'll let you know as well!"
"Awesome! You're like the best catperson ever!" Sheila says, then a thought occurs to her. "Well, the best catperson of the furry kind. What's the deal on gossip now?"
"Well, I've only opened up, so nothing too new...though Zook and Sorel are getting into kids at orphanages. I think it's nice they're giving something to the less fortunate."
Sheila's expression goes distant for a moment. "Yeah... Yeah, that's really nice for the orphans." she shakes her head and smiles. "Anything else?"
"Well, I think that's about it so far. Ain't been open too long."
'Kay!" Sheila says, waving. "I guess I'll see you later, then!"
"Sure! Tell your friends!" Kria calls after the fleeing human
"I will!" Sheila calls back.

Posted by: Alpha Thu Apr 10, 2008 1:07 pm
Walking through Fort Ordalia, Tanis is glad to have some time out of his armour. Dressed in just his robes, he is pleasantly surprised at the appearance of the ceder trees. Deciding that he should go and climb one later, the green catfolk makes his way to a certain tent he had noticed earlier.
Pushing open the entrance flap, he makes his way inside. "Heya," he calls out, hoping Kria was in.
"Hello darling Tanis! What items of wonder do you require?" Kria giggled, thinking about this.
Tanis smiles at his friend warmly. "I, uh, don't require any items. I just came in to say hi. It's been a while since we talked at all."
"Well, like whose fault is that?" Asks Kria somewhat huffily.
"All mine," Tanis says calmly with a nod. "And so I'm here now."
"So. Whatcha need?" Asks Kria curiously
"I...I wanted to talk to you about something Mitula said to me. When I died outside her shrine. I...I hear you didn't take it well," he says weakly, with a smile to match.
"Well, like ya. I don't tend to want my best friend to die. Do ya?" Kria asks, shrugging. "So I want all hyper warlock of death, ya know?"
"Mm," Tanis mumbles before continuing quietly. "Anyway, to tell the truth, I didn't want to come back," he says looking at the ground. "But she asked me if I honestly had nobody or nothing worth returning to. It was then I realised there was...somebody. My best friend." He looks back up. "You."
"Well, I would like, bloody well hope so. If you went off into the great beyond at the least you could expect a scathing letter!" retorts Kria angrily.
Tanis nods, unperturbed. "Well, I realised I never told you and I decided I should do so." He pauses, obviously uncertain whether to continue. "And also...I'm still...so sorry for what I did. But with help and time, I've been ble to shake off the guilt trip I was in." He looks up and tries to smile. "I think I'm getting back to being myself again."

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Fri Apr 11, 2008 2:44 pm
After they return from their expedition to Prompt, late that night, she sits in front of her tent, knees drawn up under her chin, staring at the fire. The tiara on her head catches the firelight, throwing it back in a dazzling polychromatic array. Despite its light and fiery appearance it lies heavy on her brow, pressing a persistent, poisonously reasonable voice into her head.
You remember what he said. Talk to him. You can make it right.
She hadn't spoken to him in weeks, not since that night in the Fairy Woods, the night after the trip to Saraband. She hadn't been trying to avoid him, but he had the strangest way of not crossing her path, of never meeting her eyes when her gaze drifted involuntarily towards him. She was so lost in the thought of it that she didn't hear him approach.
"Telanna."
She draws in a sharp, cold breath, hoping that it was the cause of the icy stab in her chest. She doesn't look up at him. She knows what she'll see. Since the years had melted off his face, it was impossible to ignore the shape of his face, the curve of his smile, the color of his hair, the way it mirrored her own. There couldn't be a shred of doubt anymore: he was her father.
"Telanna," he repeats, as if the crackle of the fire had been enough to drown out his voice.
She doesn't -- can't -- meet his gaze. "What do you want," she manages in a hoarse, trembling voice.
The faintest rustle. He takes a step closer. "I am sorry... I should have... sooner..."
The tiara chides her. It's an opening. Take it.
She sets her face defiantly, even though he can't see. "You're off by a few decades."
He winces. Some words can draw blood. "I would like to--"
"I don't care," she says, her voice losing its bite but not its tremble. "I don't care."
He had expected this. A part of him had hoped for this. Some thoughts need time to germinate to bloom in a hostile climate. "I will be in the grove, three nights from now. I would like to speak with you there. If you go, only to tell me never to speak to you again, I will honor that. If you do not go, then you will not hear from me again. I will leave this place and trouble you no longer. I promise you." He pauses. "It has gotten colder quickly. Keep the fires lit."
She doesn't respond, and after a few moments she hears his soft footsteps, growing smaller and more distant. The prodding voice is gone. She sits, staring at the fire whose contours blur rapidly behind oncoming tears.
---
The wind whips the chill rain against their faces. They bend into their cloaks, almost in unison, but they provide little cover and less warmth. The smaller figure ducks into the doorway first, clinging tightly to a cloth-wrapped bundle. The taller figure follows, peeling away a soaked hood. A pale, dark-haired man, little more than a boy, looks at the smaller figure, worry evident on his face. Haltingly, he reaches forward to pull back the hood of a young woman, red-haired with captivating green eyes, eyes like emeralds in the dark. Together they look down. Amazingly, the child is still asleep.
"Are we sure this is the right thing to do?" Saina Saleri asks her young husband.
Tonan looks away, to avoid glaring at her. You talked me into this, he thinks, though that isn't quite true. Don't go getting cold feet now that we're at the doorstep.
"Yes," he says firmly.
The child begins to stir in her arms. Instinctively she begins to rock him, cooing, "It's alright. It's going to be alright. Mommy's here. Ssh."
Bile rises in the back of Tonan's throat, but he doesn't say anything. More than anything else he wanted this to be over. "Let's go in."
The young family steps into the orphanage. A middle aged woman reads invoices by flickering candlelight in the main room. The children are upstairs, asleep. The caretaker looks up when the door opens, putting her papers down and standing. "Good evening," she says with a tired grace. Her eyes linger on the bundle, once again still.
Tonan and Saina look at each other, hesitant, nervous. They fumble for words. They have no idea how this is supposed to work.
The caretaker sighs. Every month a pair of kids who could barely afford to take care of themselves, much less a child, hover in her foyer like stray dogs, waiting for the burden -- the mistake, as they inevitably come to think of it later, when it is no longer warm and moving in their arms -- to be pulled from them, so they could go back to their normal lives.
"Boy or girl?" she asks.
"Boy," Saina replies.
"Name?"
"Sorel." Tonan says this, with half a glance at Saina.
The caretaker raises an eyebrow. "Just Sorel? No surname?"
Saina nods. "W-we didn't, we didn't think it was--"
The caretaker holds her arms out to accept the child.
For a moment, Saina looks scandalized. She's about to open her mouth and remark on the rudeness of the gesture. Then she remembers what she came here to do. Saina hands the woman her son.
---
The tiara didn't let her rest. Once or twice she had considered taking it off, but Telanna had no desire to turn the Goddess against her on top of everything else. Something was straining in her ribcage, like a bird begging to be let out. Telanna had to talk to someone about what Sorel had said.
"Sophie?" she says, after finding the priestess at her tent one night before bed. "Sophie, are you busy?"
Sophie sits at a small bench, a lamp burning beside her as sits tacking nails in the heel of a boot. Strips of leather, thread, and metal are arranged on the table before her.
The priestess looks up at the feyborn enters, a smile crossing her face as she sets down her tiny little hammer and gets to her feet, "Oh Telanna, come in... I haven't talked to you since...since..." She frowns, "I can't remember, I should have joined with the kite flying, I guess."
"Yeah..." Telanna says, looking around before taking a seat across from Sophie. "Look, I know I'm putting you on the spot, and I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, let me know. But I..." Telanna's eyes cast down at the boot. "I didn't know who else to talk to. I need your help, Sophie. I don't know what to do."
Sophie looks at her friend worriedly, "Don't be absurd, you don't need to apologize for asking me for help." A smile flickers across uneasily, "We're friends, right?" The priestess reaches out and takes the feyborn's hand, "What's wrong?"
Despite herself, Telanna smiles.
"Yeah. We are friends." She squeezes Sophie's hand. She had planned this moment very carefully while she worked up the courage to come. What she was going to say, how she was going to say it. But now that she was here, those plans began to crumble. The feelings she had been struggling to hold down for a day and a half bubbled to the surface. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and words pour out.
"S-Sorel came to see me the other night. I think he wanted to talk to me again, he hadn't tried since the night after we all went to Saraband. But it was right after the fight in Prompt, remember? The Tower? I was just so tired and angry and sad and scared that I didn't really want to deal with that. I think he noticed, I don't know how, but I think he noticed. He said--" and it is here Telanna's voice begins to break. "He said we could go back to the Fairy Woods and talk about it and he would try to explain everything to me and if I wanted he would leave forever after that and I don't know if I want to go and see him or just never have to see him again." Fresh tears stand out in her eyes, but Telanna blinks them away. "I'm sorry, I really am, I'm usually not-- I usually don't act like this."
Sophie swallows, her eyes wavering as she cups her hands over her friend's hand, finally she says quietly, "What are you going to do?"
"I...I don't know..." Telanna says in a shaky voice. She looks at Sophie with shining eyes. "What should I do?"
"Telanna..." Sophie murmurs, then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, when she opens them she speaks, "You need to face him." She squeezes her friend's hands, "You have to, won't you regret it for the rest of your life if you don't? Even if he goes away... If you don't confront him, won't it always nag at you?" She lowers her head, "I...don't know if he's...truly repenting for what he's done or if it's just another..." She looks up at the feyborn, "Even if you don't want him to be... He's still family, he's still your blood. Even if you never see him again, that won't change."
Telanna looks down at the table, at her hand in Sophie's. "I'm afraid," she says in a trembling voice. "I don't know of what, but I've never been more scared in my life."
"I know..." Sophie says quietly, with feeling, "I know..."
"What do you..." Telanna sniffs. "What do you think will happen?"
"I don't know..." Sophie replies helplessly, she looks at her friend for another moment, "Telanna, what are you afraid of?"
The tiara presses her again. Say it. Telanna doesn't have the strength to fight it off. "I'm afraid he'll find a way to hurt me, again."
"He...very well might..." Sophie says in a quiet raw voice, "But...this will be the last time... Won't it? After this, you'll never need to be afraid again..." She looks into her friend's eyes, "Isn't that worth it? Face him... He'll always hold you in his power until you do."
Telanna is quiet for a very long time. "You're..." She sighs. "You're absolutely right. I need to do this. I need to do this." She smiles, a bright warm smile that illuminates her face despite the tears standing in her eyes. "Thank you, Sophie. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Sophie asks softly.
Telanna stops dead. For a moment, her composure seems to flicker. "I..." she looks at Sophie with pleading eyes, before closing them and shaking her head. "No. No. I need to do this. It has to be me, or... or it's still gonna be there."
"I...understand..." Sophie nods, she squeezes her friend's hand with a smile, "I...I won't meet him with you, but let me come as far as the elven village with you..."
Telanna's smile returns. "I'd like that. I'd really like that."
"You might need to do this alone..." Sophie nods, saying quietly, "...but you aren't alone, Telanna."
"Yeah," Telanna says, and her whole posture begins to ease, as if the warmth of her smile was beginning to thaw the rest of her. "Yeah, I see that now." She squeezes Sophie's hand in kind. "Thank you so much."
Sophie looks at her skeptically, though her eyes are smiling, "You can save your 'thank you's for after I find you a beau." She places a finger on lips, remarking thoughtfully, her eyes mischievous, "How about...Dam Dicem?"
Telanna blinks. Her expression is utterly blank. "What? Who?"
"You don't remember? Back at the feast Alastor turned himself into..." Sophie trails off, realizing that this probably wasn't the best idea, "Uh, I was just joking anyway." She smiles sheepishly, "I thought it might lighten your spirits..."
Telanna stares at Sophie for a moment. Then she bursts out laughing, leaning forward and resting her forehead on the clasped hands until the laughter passes. "That...that was... wow." She lifts her head, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. "Thanks, I really needed that."
Sophie arches an eyebrow, then sighs, "Oh Telanna, when should we leave?"
"I..." Telanna's brow knits in thought. "I want to get there before he does. I want him to be coming to me. So how about right after dinner?"
Sophie nods, "I'll be ready, just let me pack up my things."
"Your... things?"
"Yeah... We are spending the night, right?"
Telanna blinks. "Oh. Yeah, we are. I guess I just... I don't think of having to bring things."
"Well, you wouldn't." Sophie giggles.
"Yeah..." Telanna says, sounding slightly hurt. "Yeah, I guess. So tomorrow after dinner, then?"
Sophie looks at her for a moment. "Where have you been staying?"
"Oh, I've got a tent!" Telanna says, nodding. "One of the workers gave me his when he saw me curled up behind the armory. What a nice man, huh?"
"You...you were sleeping outside!?" Sophie gasps, "Oh, Telanna, why didn't you say something?" She shakes her head, "Do you...at least have bedding?"
"I.. I've slept outside my whole life," Telanna says. "I've never been anywhere as cold as here before. I... of course I have bedding," she says, looking away.
Sophie looks very skeptical. She gets to her feet, glancing at the feyborn out of the corner of her eyes, then steps over to a chest in the corner. She opens the chest and crouches down to fish around inside it. "You know, I used to share a room with my sister..." She pulls out a thick fleece from the inky darkness and sets it on the ground beside her, pulling out a quilt a moment later, "Sometimes, I find rather lonely to come back here and be all on my own." She picks up the fleece and quilt, standing and offering them to the druidess, "You know you could give that worker back his tent and stay with me...only if you really wanted to though, I wouldn't want to impose on you just because I get lonely sometimes."
Telanna watches in dumb shock while Sophie pulls out the blankets. She reaches out to take them after a moment. Her hands tremble slightly. "I... do you mean it?" she asks in a small voice.
"Of course." Sophie looks at the druidess, "Does that mean you'll stay?"
Telanna holds the blankets up to her face, to hide her enormous smile. "Of course I'll stay!"
Sophie grins, "Then I guess we should do some rearranging!"
---
She stumbles. She's drenched in sweat despite the coldness of the night. Her hair clings to her face and neck, soaked and matted. Every step drains more of her energy, until she stands at the base of the tree, knees about to buckle, with a wailing newborn in her arms. Oihane looks down at her daughter's face.
The dryad cradles her child in one arm, sinking slowly to the ground, her back against the rough, unyielding bark of the great oak to which she was bound. Her other hand comes up, and traces the baby's round brown face.
"Look at her," she breathes, speaking to no one, or perhaps to the unconscious man sprawled out on the ground beside her. "Look at her, Sorel. Look what we made." She kisses the child's forehead, and sings to her.
"Look for me at dawning,
When the sun's reborn.
In the silent beauty
'Twixt the night and morn.
Wait 'till the lark ascends,
And the skies are blue.
There, where the rainbow ends,
I will meet you."
The child drifts off in her mother's arms. The rise and fall of her tiny chest fills Oihane with a terrible sadness. She begins to think of all the things she would miss, all of the things she is leaving behind. But lurking behind these thoughts is the twisting, primal fear, the fear that's poisoned her, slowly, since the moment she realized she would bury her love and spend eternity over his grave. She begins to tremble, and in a frenzied thought she begins to hope she would simply sink into the ground, forgotten, and no one would know. The child stirs again.
"Ssh, it's alright. It's alright. Your mother's here." Oihane bends her head forward to kiss her daughter's forehead again, but this time her lips linger against the newborn's skin. She speaks very softly.
"Look at her, Sorel. Isn't she beautiful? Our baby girl. Our little lark. Our Telanna."
Oihane rests the baby, now fast asleep, between two of the thickest roots of the tree, and waves a hand over her, weaving a spell that will protect her from the elements. Telanna is in no danger. She reaches up into the low branches of the tree, pulling down a beautifully carved staff. She runs her hands along it, and smiles. A fitting parting gift.
"Come along," she says, in an odd, distant voice, tapping the staff into the ground. Thick vines curl underneath Sorel's unconscious form, creating a sort of sled. A pair of vines flies into Oihane's hand, and she leaves the grove, dragging Sorel behind her. She falters, losing a step when she steps outside the grove's confines for the first time in her very long life. She turns and looks back at Telanna. For a moment, just a moment, the girl's placid face makes her reconsider. But the fear had done its work. She leaves the grove, never to return alive.
---
Early the morning before she goes off hunting treasure, Sorel seeks out Gail. "Good morning, Gail," he says, catching the paladin just after she finishes her morning prayers.
Gail turns to Sorel, a warm smile on her face. "I agree. Any morning where we speak is good."
Sorel smiles, but some of the mirth drains out of it. "Gail, I--" he stops himself, looking anxious and desperate. The expression quickly washes away into amiable curiosity. "What are your plans for the day, Gail?"
"Well...today, Enrick has invited me to hunt treasure with him in Waral. I've heard it's a beautiful island...I wonder if Enrick would say no to staying a small bit after we're done," Gail mentions with a glint in her eye. Her gaze falls back on Sorel, though, and the smile leaves for a moment. "What else were you going to ask?"
"When do you leave?" Sorel asks quickly. "I don't want to keep you, it's just a thought that struck me, not important."
"Then it's important to me," Gail decides, patting the ground next to her with a concerned brow. "I'm sure they'll wait for me, if I'm late."
Sorel looks at Gail with a strange expression on his face. He takes a seat. "It occurred to me..." he begins, before looking more directly at Gail. "I know nothing about your family."
Gail's eyes widen, and she pauses at the unasked question. "That's not so strange," she answers with a soft voice, "I...don't think I've spoken about them to anyone."
"Really?" Sorel asks.
Gail nods. "Out of everyone, I think only Alastor and Farain have even seen my mother...And I'm sure Farain hasn't spoken to her in years."
"Your mother is--" Sorel winces, changing tack. "Does she still live in Ribble?"
"Yes...Alastor took me to visit her a few days ago. It was something we both needed," Gail says, glancing away with a distant gaze.
Sorel is silent for a moment. "Were you close?"
"When I was younger...much younger. As I grew older, she became very protective of me, and it showed most in what she tried to keep me from...She only wanted to keep me safe..." Gail falls silent again.
"Do you think..." Sorel closes his eyes. "Do you think you can mend what was broken? Do you think it is possible to find closeness after so many years apart?"
Gail stares at Sorel, her eyes widening. "Yes...Yes, there can be." She pauses for a moment. "Things may not be as they were...I don't think I can be just her daughter anymore, and it is...difficult not to think about what I've done to her...but we're still family. I'd...forgotten how strong a tie that can be."
"Are you... do you know when you will see her again?"
The maiden shakes her head, unbraided silver hair swinging with her. "I only know that it will be soon. We don't know what will happen, in the weeks to come...it wouldn't be fair to her, to make a promise and not know if I can keep it."
Sorel nods, not meeting Gail's eyes. "It should be soon. The future is a murky thing at the best of times, and dangerous in times like these." Sorel does something Gail had never heard him do before: draw a deep, shuddering breath. "I may... I may not be here when you return. I want you to know how much joy it gives me to see that you have begun to find happiness."
Gail is silent in the wake of Sorel's statement, her eyes wavering while she stares at her friend. Her gaze turns away before she is able to speak, and even then, her voice halts and pauses. "I...I can't say I understand your...your reason to leave...nor what would happen that would drive you away...after all this...but it's..." She stops again, reaching out to take Sorel's hand and raise her eyes. "I am grateful for your kindness and your guidance...and even when it does not seem so...I am happy to know you."
Sorel squeezes Gail's hand. "Thank you," he says in a very soft, strained voice. "Thank you."
Gail squeezes Sorel's hand in turn. "If you do leave...where will you go?"
Sorel is quiet for a long time. "I am not sure. Perhaps I will simply return to the life I'd led for so long before coming to know you all, and merely wander the world until my time comes. Perhaps I will find a quiet place, near still water, where I can see the stars and wait for her. I... I do not wish to think of it."
Gail swallows to stave off the raw wound spreading through the back of her throat, looking away from Sorel. "I...I see..."
"I hope it will not come to that. But I am afraid."
Gail does not respond at first, merely looking upon the ground. "Then...then we'll see...tomorrow...and hope it is...for the best," she whispers, turning to give Sorel a small, weak smile.
Try as he might, Sorel cannot quite return the smile. "I hope you are right."
The smile remains on Gail's face even as her eyes fall away, simply coming to rest with a distant gaze over the ground near her.
---
The distance that the dead have gone
Does not at first appear--
Their coming back seems possible
For many an ardent year.
And then, that we have followed them,
We more than half suspect,
So intimate have we become
With their dear retrospect.
--Emily Dickinson
---
After dinner Telanna helps Sophie gather her things, and the two are off, arriving in the Elven Village just after sundown. Telanna gets her a room. She lays out Sophie's bedding, which was wrapped around her crystal ball. "Well," Telanna says, looking up at Sophie. "I guess this is it." She seems remarkably calm. Telanna moves around the bed and gives Sophie a hug. "Thank you so much." She leans back, holding the cleric at arm's length, and sighs. "Wish me luck."
Telanna draws a deep breath and leaves the room, making her way to the grove.
Sorel arrives half an hour later. He doesn't stop to speak to anyone, heading directly for the grove.
((http://voxpvoxd.com/filez/ChildoftheWilderness.mid))
Sorel wades through the gnarled undergrowth, fighting off several thorn bushes in his haste. The forest opens, revealing a wide clearing, a single massive oak tree, and a young woman standing in front of it. Sorel arrives.
Telanna is waiting. She had been running over what she would say to him, when he showed up. If he showed up. The plans began to crumble the instant she saw him. The tiara presses encouragement. You can do it. Talk to him. Make it right.
With a steady hand she reaches up and pulls the tiara off of her head, dropping it to the ground. The dam bursts. She can do little but stand there, trembling, and stare at him. She knows if she does anything else she'll collapse to the ground, and he'll have won.
He watches her drop the artifact to the ground, watches her bare herself without its comfort and protection. Sorel knows better even than Telanna the significance of what she did. He takes a step toward her. "Telanna..."
She shuts her eyes, and her hands ball up into shaking fists. She finds the strength to speak. "Go ahead. I'm listening."
Sorel makes a pained expression. "Telanna, look at me."
Telanna shakes her head. "No. I can't. Just say it."
It wasn't much easier for him. It broke his heart to see her like that, over and over and over again. But that doesn't matter now. He takes another step toward her, speaking in a very worn voice.
"I loved her. I still do. I always will. I would have done anything-- I would have given her anything. But she asked for the one thing I did not have to offer. She asked me for forever." Sorel takes another step towards Telanna, without her seeming to notice.
"Telanna, I swear to you, she never said... she never let me... I never would have left you. I would have died before I left you alone." He's only a step away now. He reaches out his hand.
She senses it. She lashes out, knocking his arm away. "Don't touch me." she says, her voice and body quaking with barely restrained emotion. "Don't... just don't... don't touch me."
Sorel watches the arc his arm describes when she knocks it away. It doesn't hurt. Not physically. He doesn't say anything.
"You're a liar," she finally manages. "That's-- that's not-- she wouldn't-- she didn't--"
Sorel wants nothing more than to break down with her, to share her tears and her pain and to help her heal. But he cannot. She has to see. "Did you never..." he whispers, his voice thick with sorrow. "Did you never think to ask?"
Telanna stops, stock still. The tree... she had learned to speak with it before she had learned to use her voice. Before she had learned to walk. The tree had practically raised her. But she had asked. She had asked once, when she was a young girl, maybe thirteen. She had been aware that other children had parents, but since she never had their absence didn't bother her. All the same, she'd asked, and the tree had told her that her mother had died and her father had left. Nothing more. Telanna hadn't really known what being alone was like until that moment.
She opens her eyes, glaring at Sorel for a moment in silence before turning around. She runs her hands along the bark, whispering to it in a strange language. She waits in silence. The tree doesn't answer at first. But reluctantly, haltingly, after what seems like forever, it does. It tells her everything.
The bottom falls out of Telanna's stomach. She sinks slowly to the ground, sobs racking her body. She lays there for a moment, curled between the very same roots that protected her while her mother went off to die.
Sorel kneels down beside her. His face is twisted with pain at the sight of her. His eyes are raw and dry. Nobody should have to feel what she's feeling. Tentatively, he puts a hand on her back, as if he could conduct it from her as a taller tree draws a thunderbolt away from a shorter one. "Telanna," he says in a very soft voice. "Telanna."
She doesn't respond for a long time. She merely lies there, pouring her tears into the soil at the base of the tree.
"It will be alright," Sorel whispers to her. "It will be alright. I am here now. I will not leave you. Not now. Not ever. Sssh."
The strength starts to go from her body. She doesn't have the energy to hurt. Finally, she pushes herself into a sitting position, and looks at her father. Her bright green eyes are bloodshot and puffy. Her beautiful face is streaked with dirt and tears. "Why...why didn't..." she starts to say, but she stops. Her eyes well up again.
"Say it," Sorel says, and tears begin to bud in his own eyes. "There is nothing you cannot say to me."
"W-why didn't she love me?" Telanna asks in a tiny, trembling voice. "Didn't she want to know me? Didn't she want to see me grow up?"
Sorel's heart splits. He tries to blink the tears away and fails. He leans forward and embraces his daughter. She does not respond or resist. Despite it all his voice remains steady. "She did love you. I know she did. But I do not know what passed through her mind. No one can answer that. No one. The pain... the pain will not go away. I cannot mend your hurt, not truly. All... all I can promise, and I do promise it, is that you will never be alone again. Do you understand, Telanna? For the rest of your life. You will never be alone. Look at me, Telanna." Sorel tilts his daughter's face up to his. Their eyes meet, mere inches apart.
"Look at you. Look how strong you are. How beautiful. I am so proud of you." Sorel leans forward, kissing her forehead gently. "My little lark," he whispers to her. "My telanna. It will be alright." Words rise from his throat, words that had been buried for thirty long years. "I love you so much."
Telanna buries her face in Sorel's chest, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She weeps again, but the fear, like poison in her veins, is gone. The loneliness, so long like a rough woolen blanket over her heart, is gone. She merely shares that moment with him, without uttering a word.
They talk late into the night, rapidly at first, but in halting spurts after the tension is broken. Often they simply sit together in silence. When dawn breaks over the Fairy Woods they walk out, hand in hand, to the sound of winter lark song.
Father and daughter, each twice abandoned, wander the world for three decades, never knowing the other's face. On a cold winter night their hands reach out across the void, and they touch, and what each has lost is nothing against what they share together.
Sorel and Telanna.
Orphans.

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Sun Apr 13, 2008 2:02 pm
"Why, hello there Sire Tinker!" Enrick's cheerful voice sings as he steps into Zook's quarters. The quirky nobleman waves a hand at the gnome, "Do you have a moment?" Zook looks up from his work when Enrick gallivants into his tent. He appears slightly dismayed. "Doesn't anyone knock anymore?"
"Hey, what's this?" The adventurer questions as he comes by a near table, designating a... weird implement.
Zook looks at what Enrick's pointing to. "That's a motion detector," Zook says. "Works on UV, Infrared, EMP wavelengths. Lets you know when something's moving even when you can't see it. Invisible things, ethereal things, ghosts probably."
"How queer..." The nobleman notes absently and shrugs as he draws closer to Zook... then to a small barrel remaining in a corner. It wasn't exactly on the way to the tinker but one item out of the pile making its content was shiny enough to catch his attention.
"Ooo! And this? What does it do?" He questions again, "Looks like a scrap of those metal gears!"
"That's..." Zook squints to see what the noble is babbling about. "It's a little model of a Steel Claw I made ages ago. We were on a ship, and-- that bit's not important. It's a little miniature of one of those things we saw at the Tower, with the one slashing arm and the laser mount."
"Yes! That's it! Pesky things, aren't they?" The noble answers back. His gaze quickly wanders across the tent. There's little time before he notices another one of the curiosities that fill its space.
"...And this over there! The goggles with the little appendage on the side." He exclaims, pointing at a pair of glasses, "I've never seen something like this!"
"Huh? Oh, that's a holo-log view visor. It lets you watch the logs that fit into the machine that plays them." Zook sets his tools down on the table. "Look, is there something I can do for you?"
The noble keeps scanning this space full of wonders for more novelties before he turns back to Zook and grins innocently.
"What? Oh sorry. I sort of forgot why I came to visit here at the first place. My apologies! *chuckle*" He pauses and casts a glance at the gnome's work, "And what is it that you're doing on this fine, glaring day?"
"Waiting for you to get to the point," Zook replies.
"Eh... That could take a while, 'mafraid. Well, let's see..." The fruity noble's black eyes meet a great many things in the tent as he tries to recall. Eventually, they set back on the bits of metal.
"Oh that's it!" The noble exclaims, snapping his fingers. "The gadgets. I have witnessed the foreigners in the previous battles and they have those round shaped metal trinkets that explode on contact... So incredibly clever!" He looks back at Zook, "I was told that it's tinker's making. Does it happen to be in your line of work?"
"Grenades," Zook says. "Handheld bombs that are meant to be thrown. You mean grenades." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with a long-fingered hand. "Let me guess, you want me to build you some grenades."
Enrick displays a weasely smile.
"Precisely, you couldn't be so close! I'm actually very interested in whatever ones of those nifty trinkets you're able to provide. What else can you craft?"
"This isn't a restaurant, I don't-- there's no menu for you to look at," Zook says. "You have to tell me what you want and then we can go from there."
The dashing swordsman eyes him curiously.
"Oh. Well, then. Let's start with the grenades and- Hey! What's this?" He points at a firearm lying aside.
The noble examines it more closely. "Looks like what Sheila is using to fight."
"It's a gun," Zook says, beginning to lose patience with the lackadaisical nobleman. "You point it at something and then the thing you pointed it at gets hurt."
He joins his hands in praise.
"Oho! I'm taker!... if you tell me how it works. I'm not exactly familiar with these new exotic weapons."
Zook blinks. "I just did. Point and shoot. There's a little trigger on the handle you pull. It'd take some practice to deal with the kick but if you've handled a bow before you should be able to handle a gun without too much trouble."
"You mean it's as easy to handle as say... this?"
The noble reaches for the crossbow bolts he keeps in a quiver at his belt. He takes one in his fingers and lines his fine hand with the entrance to Zook's quarters. He speaks a word in magical tongue and the moment after, the projectile fires from his hand and exits the tent, digging itself into a lone tree trunk. Enrick stares back at Zook expectantly.
"I'll take one with as many projectiles it can contain."
Zook slides off the bucket he uses as a stool. He drags a small chest out from under his desk around to Enrick. "There you go. All yours."
"Why thank you good sir!" Enrick pulls the container from the ground and puts it into his bag. It surprisingly fits inside. "How many of those grenades do you have in stock anyway?"
"Two."
((contents of the chest:
Grenades: 2 Antimatter Grenades (10d8 damage, 40' radius, ignore 10pt DR)
Other Guns: 2 Screamer Pistols (2d6 sonic, 80', 30/30)
1 Plasma Pulse Pistol (2d10+4 fire x3, +4 to hit, ignores DR, 80', 0/8)
2 Laser Rifles (3d10 fire x3, 200', AP 7, 20/20)
1 Laser Pistol (2d10 fire x3, 80', AP 4, 30/30)
1 .357 Magnum (2d8 x3, 40', AP 4, 7/7)
1 Blaster Rifle (4d10 x3, 200', AP 8, 20/20)))
"Mmhmm... And what does it take to make one of those? I won't say it again, they are killer devices!"
"Yeah. Killer." Zook shrugs. "I can't make those. You need to talk to the space people. I can make regular shrapnel grenades easy enough, but they're not as powerful as those."
"Duely noted." Enrick states, his next destination already in mind, "Well then, thanks for your time, noble engineer. Until next time!" He waves the gnome goodbye and walks away gracefully.
"Toodles," Zook mutters before going back to his work.

Posted by: Knight_019 Sun Apr 13, 2008 5:02 pm
*Back at the fort, the battle at the Tower of the Ancients over, Mahler makes his way up one of the towers of the Fort. Things seem so different now, and he was bothered. He wasn't sure what to make of all the changes that had occurred to him, and now he felt like even more changes were happening. He was being pulled in so many directions, he couldn't understand it. He wanted to protect everyone, and he wanted to serve the Light and his creator's wishes the best he could, but he also felt like he was becoming less understanding of those he would protect by doing so.
Mahler walks toward the edge of one of the battlements and watches over the land and people working on the ever more and more construction activities to enhance the facilities of the fort. What could he do? He became absolutely amazed by the sound of stone clacking on stone, and how it could be rhythmic in such a way that people would enjoy it. He wish he just understood everything better. Mahler makes a gesture as though sighing, though he did not breathe.*
: "Are you made of mithril?" The smooth voice of a fruity noble calls from above Mahler.
*Mahler is surprised to hear someone call out from above him. He turns to look up and behind him, then realizes there is nothing any higher. He then looks straight up, leaning back against the merlon to find the Destonian noble, Lord Enrick, flying right over him.*
: "No. I am made from the stones of a ruined church and nothing more."
*Mahler looks down at his hands, noticing the holy symbols carved into his fists, He rubs his hands, a slight grinding sound audible as he contemplates his past even more.*
Enrick keeps descending slowly towards the golem even as he carries on with his speech.
: "It was amazing! I had a flight just now and I spotted you from a distance because you were shining in the sunlight!" He eventually lands at the golem's side. "Enrick van Mearglecrow." He adds with a an awesometacular bow.
*Mahler looks up, then down at his body once again.*
: "Really? I didn't think I shined or reflected light... I hope it didn't get in your eyes," *Mahler ends quietly.
Mahler then realizes he was being somewhat rude. He makes a grumbling sound as though clearing his throat, then stands up straighter, looking confidently at the noble. Mahler stretches out a hand once Enrick's display of perfect pomp is finished.*
: "I am Mahler. You are a spectacular warrior. I have never seen nor known anything like your style."
: "My pleasure, Mahler! I, myself, have never witnessed a creature such as you. Oh I crossed the path of a few golems before, but they were usually never that... talkative." He tilts his head, "Mindless nitwits that they were. Never a word from their mouth, whatever they're made of. That and well, in most case they didn't appreciate my presence like you do. *smirk*"
The noble nods.
: "Yes, they weren't brilliant, if you know what I mean." He hurries to add with a faint laugh.
*Mahler takes his hand back, resting his hands at his midsection. He wasn't sure he necessarily appreciated "Enrick's presence" as the noble suggested, but he was glad to have him on their side.*
: "Hmmm, yes. My master and creator, Artibeus, made me as what's known as a 'Living Golem.' We are alive in all senses, and we feel, know, and learn from experiences in a way as close to human as our creators can give us." *Mahler sighs.* "Though, I am not sure I know if I am really living."
: The nobleman quirks his brow curiously. "Really? Well you seem to me as alive as one could be... minus the soft skinny part I suppose." He shrugs, "What matters is, you can reason better than most of the foes I've been fighting for those last weeks. Pretty potent evidence if you ask me."
*Mahler nods, accepting the noble's bout of confidence. For a Destonian nobleman, he was unlike any of the aristocracy he had ever heard about. In fact, he was unlike many of th people he had first traveled with when they were given their assignment in Hassan.*
: "I appreciate that, Lord Enrick. Over the course of my journey I have been given many reasons to doubt myself. Coventry has often questioned my existence. Your confidence gives me my own confidence." *The golem gives the noble a warm smile in return for his kindness.*
: "I would do anything for the friends of my friends!" The noble then frowns, "Coventry? Like 'Doctor Coventry'? That doesn't sound like him at all... Such a fine, open-minded fellow."
((lol -4 SM))
*Mahler waves his hands and shakes his head.*
: "You misunderstand. Coventry is an excellent comrade and asset in battle. He simply believes that golems can have neither a soul nor free will. I've tried talking to him a few times on this matter, but he says that I am just programmed to say and feel these things. I suppose how can anyone tell?"
((lol naive))
Enrick strokes the back of his neck.
:"Um, his point seems very moot... Do you feel devoid of a free will when you say all these things?" The man looks at him from head to toes, "I can tell you what I see... I see a full-fledged being of rock and magic standing stoutly on the green, green landscape of the kingdom of Cypress!" He spreads his arms out as he says that.
*Mahler nods once more at Enrick's statement. He turns to look behind him and views the sight Enrick was describing. Indeed, while he had been looking down at the people working below, he had missed the grand view of the landscape and kingdom all around. It made him wonder if this represented how he had acted throughout their mission. He was so concerned with trying to be someone that he missed the point of what he was supposed to be. Mahler looks over to Enrick with a solemn expression.*
: "You are right, Lord Enrick. I can only be who I am and act how I feel I should act. Being a golem whose purpose is to defend those who are less able than myself does not stop me from appreciating the world's beauty."
*Mahler looks down through a crenellation for a moment, then back up directly into the noble's eyes.*
: "Though, I wish I could remember this as easily as you say it."
The swordsman chuckles lightly.
: "It's all about the will you put into it, really." He winks, "After a while, it becomes natural." He folds his arms and looks up at the sky pensively, "Now let me tell you what I hear. I hear... this being's voice rising into existence. It carries more than the monotonous rumble of an unexpressive automaton whose very words are guided from on high : it carries someone's personal resolve to exist, to discern by reason alone and not a set of threads weaved onto their back by some fanciful puppeteer!" He looks back to Mahler, "Even if this resolve was not yours to start with as some might be prone to thinking, make it your own. Live another day!"
: "I CANS BE PEOPLES TOO!?"
: "WHY YES OF CURZ U CNA HAS A SWELL CAPE 2!"
: "N WUT ABOT CHEEZBURGER!?"
: "I has it."
((That's when I roll bluff))
~~~
OR
~~~
*It was then that Mahler felt something inside him that he had not felt in a long time. Recently, not even Faralon's inspiring, bardic songs were able to move him. However, now, with Enrick's impassioned, lively speech, Mahler felt excited. He felt like purpose had been restored to him. He didn't have to be disconnected from everything that made everyone else human or living, since he could be just as "alive" as anyone else.*
: You are right. I control who I am. No matter what is said, I make decisions about what I do. Where do you come up with such potent sayings? *Mahler asks, curious as to how the noble is able to conjure such poignant phrases so quickly and effortlessly.*
((TO BE CONTINUED))

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Tue Apr 15, 2008 5:59 am
RP XP calculated as of April 15th. This does not count anything not finished or in progress (IE at Kai's site.) Also, BLT has not contacted me in a month, so... Alexander finds one day that Caius is missing, a simple note to him where his gear once was. The note said, in Caius' handwriting, that he had grown bored of fighting with the others and gone off to seek his fortune alone.
Totals:
Alex 1800
Hal 1200
Laeralas 1200
Thavon 600
Sophie 1800
Johann 200
Merla 600
Dagron 400
Enrick 1600
Talacre 1200
Eve 600
Pantherath 200
Varro 200
Villetta 600
Maria 800
Okori 600
Jessica 200
Melissa 1400
Coventry 3000
Kria 1200
Sorel 2600
Tanis 400
Gorrik 200
Gail 2200
Mahler 400
Ombligo 400
Graigus 1000
Farain 400
Kayla 200
Dam 1200
Cedric 1600
Zook 1800
Merkass 800
Gabriel 400
Aurik 400
Isyndel 1200
Faralon 1000
Castor 200
Telanna 2200
Ashathel 1800
Laika 200

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Tue Apr 15, 2008 11:12 am
Enrick's attention seems diverted to something that just occured. : "Hm? Oh. Hold on two seconds there, my friend." Enrick motions for Mahler to have patience while he takes care of this obscure happening. The dashing swordsman turns to the fourth wall and strikes a superhero pose, displaying a flashy smile as he draws his rapier and holds the blade upward in a theatrical fashion. Suddenly, the spectral echo of an orchestral jingle fills every nook and crany of Fort Zook as a fine rain of petal roses begins to pour over Enrick.
http://beaugran.club.fr/cd/premium/Jingle%207.mp3
Enrick is now level 17!
Swashbuckler 3/ Sorcerer 6/ Dashing Swordsman 8
+4 HP!
+1 BAB! (+14/ +9/ +4)
+1 REF!
Learned a new Quip: "Gotcha!"!
Learned a new Class Feature: Surprising Entrance!
+1 Bluff!
+6 Perform [Comedy]!

Posted by: Knight_019 Wed Apr 16, 2008 12:22 am
: "Hello there, Dagron," Laeral says, appearing and smiling widely. "And how are you? Growing quickly, I notice." *Dagron turns from some books he had been hoarding in his cavelike quarters, nearly hitting Laeral in the face with his tail. Whether the nimble Elf sidestepped the hazard or Dagron had just come close, the wyrm wasn't sure. He was, however, glad to see a friend.*
: "OH! Um, sorry, Laeralas! Hi, and..." *Dagron looks back to the books on his table then again toward Laeral again* "I was just studying and looking up things related to the Ancients and our enemies, and, well... I've been really hungry lately and feel like tearing off my scales. I really don't think dragons are supposed to grow this fast, but then again, Bleu also matured quickly, so maybe it just happens... I STILL NEED TO TALK TO HIM!"
*Dagron throws a claw in the air in gesture of a realization, then shakes his head.*
: "Sorry, I'm being rude. Have a seat if you'd like." *Dagron motions to a few places where the Elf might be able to rest if he wishes.* "I'm well, otherwise. What have you been up to?"
Laeral in fact ducks underneath Dagron's tail, but only smiles wider. Taking a seat, he stretches out, then relaxes in it.
: "Well, we should go find Bleu as soon as we can then. If we know where he's supposed to be I can teleport us in," the elf says. "And as for me, oh, not much. Just the occassional battle and camp raid," he replies. "Went and found my brother too, not long ago. Have you met him yet?" he asks.
: "Alex has expressed interest in going to Rune once more for that task, so we should probably wait for him. If he delays or our plans change, and I have to act on my own, your offer will be accepted for sure. Thanks."
*Dagron sits back, reclining on his tail to continue talking to Laeralas.*
: "Your brother, Talacre? We met briefly on the tower, though he didn't say much. I would almost venture that he can jump to places faster than I can fly."
: "Well, whatever the case, I'd be happy to join you," Laeral offers. "Yes, Talacre. I'm not surprised he didn't say much. He didn't look too impressed with all those injuries he took. And yeah, he can seem to do that at times. I nicknamed him Skyjumper because of it when we were younger," he adds with a laugh.
: "Exploding mages and all..." *Dagron notes, pensive.* "There is still a lot to learn, I guess. I had never seen a spell such as that before, and I have never read about anyone, Elf or otherwise, who was able to leap like your brother."
: Laeral shrugs. "I have a theory about it. Our father's a wizard, and our mother was too. You could say that magical talent runs in the family. And whilst I've gone for the more conventional route of using it, he's trained at channeling it into physical movement," he explains. "Still, it's only a theory. But it makes sense."
: "It's certainly possible," "*Dagron muses.* "Sorcerers are born much the same way. Some even say that they have the blood of dragons flowing in them!" *Dagron laughs at the thought. Still chuckling, he continues.*
: "If you want my opinion, though, haha, it's a claim to make them seem more powerful or better. Sorcerers usually tend to be a sly bunch."
: "Interesting," Laeral says contemplatively. "Though there's something about elves or humans having dragon blood in them that just doesn't seem right." He frowns. "Speaking of, how old are you, Dagron?" he asks.
(("I'M ONWEE TWEE AN A HAF YEOWS OWD!"))
: "I am only five years old, with a lot I need to find out."
: "Goodness," Laeral says with some surprise, though his smile remains. "I knew you were young, but not that much. Hard to think that I'm over ten times your age."
He pauses.
: "Apart from the growing issue, what other things do you need to find out?"
*Dagron gestures to the books he's been hoarding in his room.*
: "Everything I can. The Ancients, and now the Strife Lords. Think about the new things you learn every day. I want every day to be filled with new discoveries."
*Dagron seems unfazed by Laeral's remark on his age and rapid maturation. It had, afterall, become commonplace. It was one of the reasons evil dragons considered themselves superior to everything else, after all. They lived longer, developed faster, and developed much more than the other inhabitants of the world.*
: "Not only growing quickly, but eager and maturing quickly also," Laeral observes. "That's good. Well, if there's anything you ever need help with, I'd be happy to help. Especially if it's as interesting as some of the subjects you seem to be covering."
: *Dagron smiles.* "Of course. One of the topics I'm researching is draconic magic. I've also been practicing channeling my energies into spells, and I feel like it's coming soon. Not yet, but soon. I've discovered that some dragons can channel magic into their breath as well, causing enemies to stop in their tracks, for instance! It's just like if that monk, Graigus, hit them just right."
*Dagron looks down, somewhat dejected.*
: "I haven't mastered any of it, yet, though," *he says sadly.* "I most likely won't any time soon, either, but if I could just get a scroll - or better yet, a potion! - I might be able to do something about it" *Dagron looks up again, his head rolled slightly to the side.* "It's just, well... there are no other dragons, so..."
In response, Laeral unsheathes both his dagger. Holding them before the young dragon, he says,
: "I wouldn't worry. Have a guess at how long it took me to learn to cast magic whilst holding both of these."
: *Dagron leans back some more.* "I'd imagine years, and it's quite impressive. It would be nice to cast spells through my teeth. It could be... 'ROAR,' then they get a blaze in the face."
*Dagron shuffles around a bit, laughing slightly at the idea. Then again, he could always do that now...*
: "Unfortunately, right now we don't have years to fight the Strife Lords, and any edge is we have is crucial."
: Laeral laughs. "Two years in fact, and that was just the minor spells. I can cast nearly anything through them now, though that's been a long time coming. And anyway, I thought you could roar and breath fire already," he says with a grin. "And I'm sure once we find Bleu, you'll definately get more of an edge that can be used."
: "I certainly hope so. In any event, Dagron air transportation is still open to you," *Dagron laughs to Laeral.*
: "That's good to know," Laeral says, also laughing. "Quite ingenious, the last time it happened. Anyway, I need to head off. Remember to come find me if you need anything," the elf says.
: "And you the same."
*Laeral gets up to leave, removing himself from the somewhat comfortable position he had so easily relaxed himself into. The Elven daggermage gone to attend to his other business, see other people, and prepare for the next expedition, Dagron gets up and returns to his work area full of books. A few minutes later, the wyrm makes a loud exclaimation, echoing out into the nearby rooms and ears of anyone nearby.
: RAAAARGH! WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO GET ONE OF THESE!?
*The sound of a heavy fist hitting a solid object is then heard, and Dagron sighs, frustrated. So much he wanted to do, yet all of it seemed just out of reach.*

Posted by: Kaihaku Fri Apr 18, 2008 1:56 am
The boy wraps his thick cloak tighter around him, his breath coming in gasps as he struggles up the steep slope, the biting winter wind buffeting him. His eyes burn brightly, staring ever forward at his destination as they had for two weeks. Now, it was in sight, a thin valley little more than crevice, one of the few passes through these mountains.
He staggers to a stop as he steps into the valley, his eyes staring up in surprise. Before him is a sight he did not expect. Everyone had told him that Fort Ordalia was nothing but an old border keep, but here rising up as if formed from living rock was a great wall. He looks down it its length, eyeing the deep trench before it cautiously. There were no soldiers manning this defense and in the center was a great gap in the stone where a gate tower should have been. No banners or flags adorned the wall, it was barren save for a single ragged white kite dancing endlessly in the wind.
"What is this..." The boy breathes, struggling to mask his ill ease with contempt. The wind at his back, he walks forward through the great gap in the wall only to stop once again.
There were the worn stone buildings he had been told again and again to expect. They did not stand alone, they seemed instead to be the heart of a great hive of activity. Craftsmen of all races labour on a host of structures branching out around those which already stand. Spread around this on all sides were tents of all sizes and shapes. A fine grove sat strikingly out of place in the midst of this chaos and a stone tower stood alongside the cliff face - all the more unnatural for the natural rough and flow of the stone.
The boy swallows, then his eyes narrow, he wasn't going to turn back now. His hands clench into fists as he marches forward into this fray, bracing himself for the swarm of questions his arrival would cause. A swarm of questions which never came. There were beings of all races, creeds, and nations here. Soldiers and magicians. Amidst the scurrying of gnomes, dwarves, and halflings; the lumbering of minotaurs, the waltz of elves, the striding of men... The sight of him, a mere human boy, went unnoticed. This slight hurt his pride but he dare not bring attention to himself. There were great deeds being done and he was not yet part of them.
He spent an hour wandering around the chaos, his courage faltering as he sought out the target of his quest. He could not ask. He dare not. These people, they would not take him seriously, not yet. He should show them. Now was not the time though.
The boy came to a stop when he finally found him, his eyes wavering as a ragged gasp escaped his lips. There he was. Towering about those around him. He was the image of... The boy blinks back tears, struggling to keep his composure. It has been years since he last saw this man, he could barely remember their last meeting.
The boy shakes his head fiercely, a scowl on his features. No. He was not going to cry, not here. Not now. He was a man. He took in a deep breath, his eyes alight with resolve and strides forward as best he can manage, struggling to contain his emotions, he spits out his words defiantly, "Sir Cedric Theodoric, I have come to speak with you."
Cedric arches an eyebrow, turning to look down at his challenger.
The boy returns his gaze boldly, his eyes widening in challenge as he gives the slightest nod of his chin.
Cedric looks at the boy appraisingly for a moment longer, "Who are you and what would you speak to me of?"
"I..." The boy hesitates, his eyes widening in surprise, "I'm..." He scowls, anger flaring in his eyes as he declares, "I am Norrin, son of Ardolph." He glowers at the knight.
The color fades from the paladin's face as he looks down at the boy, his eyes glistening, "Norrin..." He stares at the boy, "Where is Ardolph?"
"He...he fell in battle..." The boy falters, defending his father, "He had a warrior's death."
Cedric runs a hand over his face, "Mitula..." The paladin stands there for another moment, then lowers his hand and nods sternly, "There is no doubt in my mind of that." He considers the boy, "Where is Ofra?"
"Mom...was hurt..." Norrin shifts uneasily, "She's staying with grandfather and...aunt Corl."
"You did not come here merely to tell me this, did you?" Cedric asks sternly.
"No!" Norrin declares, seeing his chance, "I'm here to avenge my father and fight with you!"
Cedric nods quietly, "How many summers have you now seen, Norrin." He looks at the boy, "Seven?"
Norrin grimaces, "I can fight as well as many of the men in Thames."
"You should be tending to your mother." Cedric states in a voice suddenly cold, "Not here."
"She barely even knows me!" Norrin shouts, his face flushing with emotion, "What am I suppose to do?! Just sit there and watch her die?!"
"Care for her."
Norrin grows silent, looking down, whispering defiantly, "I can fight too."
"I have no doubt of it..." Cedric states quietly, "Yet, this is a matter of duty, not passion."
Norrin shakes his head darkly.
"Does...father know you are here?" Cedric asks quietly.
"No." Norrin replies sullenly, "I...ran away..."
"How you must have worried him." Cedric breathes accusingly, his voice growing stern, "How long have you been gone?"
"...two weeks." Norrin mutters.
"Come with me." Cedric states sternly, nodding to one of the larger tents.
"No... I came here to fight." The boy answers, glaring up at the paladin, "I'm not going back!" He slings the pack from his back and pulls forth a great cloth-wrapped bundle.
"That's...not..."
Norrin rips off the cloth, revealing a ebony black great sword glowing with power. "Asturk!" Norrin declares in challenge, straining to hold the great weapon as he glares, "Try me if you must, you will not find me lacking!"
Cedric stares at the weapon, a light shining in his eyes as he states grimly, "Asturk, witch-slayer and scale-reaver... The blade of Ardolph."
"Yes!" Norrin cries out, "Now it will be the tool of my vengeance!"
"Norrin..." Cedric answers coldly, "Your hands are not yet worthy to bear that weapon. You cause your father insult."
"You're wrong!" Norrin shouts, his eyes bulging as he glares at the paladin, "You're wrong!" He starts forward, swinging the great blade with all of his might.
Cedric doesn't falter, he catches the edge of oncoming blade with a gauntleted hand and halts its advance, causing the boy to stagger. He reaches out with his free hand, snatching the hilt and tearing it away from the boy in a single motion, he speaks evenly, "I believe a time will come, nephew, when you will honor this blade and your father's name." A thin trail of blood runs down the black blade from the paladin's fist, "If you take up arms foolhardily, that time will never come to pass. You will fall before you reached the full measure of your strength."
Norrin stares up at the paladin, his eyes widened.
Cedric offers the hilt to the boy, "Keep your father's legacy until that time, Norrin."
Norrin takes the Asturk uneasily, his eyes drifting from Cedric's unwavering face to the blood running off the blade.
Cedric withdraws his hands, the blood-flow ceasing as he rubs them together quietly.
Norrin wipes the blood from the blade uneasily, then quietly wraps it in cloth and returns it to his pack. He slings the pack over his back and looks down at the ground gloomily.
"Norrin..." Cedric says quietly, "You traveled long to reach this place... Before we return to Thames, you will rest and eat." He starts towards the largest tent.
Norrin nods dejectedly.
...
[Next time, on the adventures of Clone Cedric, find out who else among his friends and family have died or been terribly scarred beyond recognition!]

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Fri Apr 18, 2008 2:38 am
One cold day at the Fort, Cedric hears a very familiar voice behind him. "You know... seeing this place makes me wonder..." "What does it make you wonder?" Cedric asks without turning. "Makes me wonder if I should've gone into land speculation," Derrik says with a sigh, walking besides Cedric. "Well I've got bad news, and not so bad news."
The paladin glances at the merchant, "How are your wounds?"
"Eh," Derrik shrugs. "I've had worse. Yours?"
"Worse?" Cedric arches an eyebrow, "Impressive."
"Not really," Derrik says, shaking his head. "Anyway, the bad news is that I've burned through most of my stock. Eh... I can no longer say with impunity that if you want it, I have it. I still have quite a bit, and I can supply you with nearly all your potions and scrolls, but for weapons and armor..." Derrik shakes his head. "So, I'm changing that deal we had about the discount. I can't supply you exclusively anymore."
TheUnknownMarine: "With that in mind, you'll receive your ten percent discount when buying expendable items and mundane items from me, but magical things of the more permanent kind..." Derrik shakes his head. "I can't vouch for having many anymore. So you're free to look elsewhere."
"Very well." Cedric nods, "What is the 'not so bad' news?"
"Well it's both the fact that I still can sell you discounted potions and scrolls," Derrik says. "And the fact that I happen to know a way you might be able to meet your needs for weapons and magical items. You know about mithril, adamant, and orihalchium? Or however it's called, I never get that right."
"I know of the first two, many of our troops put them to use."
"Well, they, along with Dark Matter, are four types of ore that skilled smiths can use to produce tremendously powerful magic," Derrik says with a nod. "It's a tradition of sorts, actually. Finding a smith that can work the stuff isn't easy, and their work is never cheap..."
"Dark Matter?"
Derrik grins. "But if you build a forge, the fame of working for you might attract one or two. Dark Matter is another magical ore, usually produces powerful but cursed items. However I'd heard that if alloyed with mithril or ori... whatever, you can get the power with none of the unholiness." Derrik shrugs. "Anyway, you might want to keep your eyes open for a smith."
"Thank for your council." Cedric nods, "I'll advise my troops to keep their eyes open."
"Ah, one more thing," Derrik says with a wince. "This might be goodbye. You won't be seeing much of me for a long while if at all. I'm leaving things in the hands of my apprentices."
"I'm sure we'll meet agian." Cedric replies.
Derrik shrugs. "Well, don't tell anyone, but my ability to accurately predict the future is about slim to none nowadays. Here's hoping though," Derrik turns away, stopping for a moment. "Look out for Yin and Yang, will you? They've the makings of good merchants, but they're the last people that can help in a fight."
"You held off a demi-god...a Vandal and Shailtor blamed you for his defeat, don't underestimate your capabilities." Cedric smiles, "I'm sure we'll meet again.." He nods, "Until then, I'll honor your request."
"You've already done more than I ever could when you slew Xadoss," Derrik remarks. "All I managed to do was help you do it... And nearly all the artifacts and magic trinkets that let me pull off such audacious feats have either been lost to me or used up."
Derrik shakes his head. "All up to you guys now. I've done what I can."
"As if you don't have tricks up your sleeve..." Cedric smiles, "Well, until we meet again."
"Farewell," Derrik says, pulling a scroll from a pocket and begining to read, vanishing in a spark of light.
((Permanent magical items can no longer be assumed to be in stock. 3 items per week will randomly generate for Derrik's apprentices, Yin and Yang to sell. When the Fort Store is completed, this will increase to 4 items.))

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