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Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Thu May 01, 2008 3:33 am
Because old thread was huge, huge guts, etc.

Posted by: Knight_019 Thu May 01, 2008 7:40 pm
((PETRIFIED FRUIT: THE ORANGENING ... WITH PEACHES À LA CRÈME!)) : "What an excellent idea!" Enrick says brilliantly. The noble takes place a mere distance away and draws his trusty rapier, turning back to the golem as he does so. : "Ready when you are." He states with a courteous grin.
*Mahler brings his hands up into a fighting stance, as though ready to box against Enrick's soon-to-be COLORFUL GOD RAPIER.*
: "Good! Let's start!"
: "En garde!"
((http://gh.ffshrine.org/song/3410/34
For the purposes of this spar, we'll allow Mahler to take subdual.
Combatants begin 20' apart.
Enrick wins initiative.))
: "En garde!" He shouts, whirling his wrist and summoning a barrier around him.
((Shield cast))
*Mahler puts his hands up on the defensive and shuffles back a bit, eyeing up his opponent. He makes a surprisingly graceful move, as though preparing to bow. However, instead of following through with a courtesy, a sheet of stone just down from his chin, giving him the appearance of having an enormous beard.*
((Mahler drops back 30' and casts silverbeard.))
: "Oh. Fine then." He says casually. Another hand gesture brings up five replica of himself, all standing side by side. The noble then shortens the distance that separates him from Mahler.
((Mirror Image cast. 5 clones. 30' toward Mahler.))
*Realizing that staying on the defensive would lead to a standstill between the two of them, Mahler decides to close in and start dealing with the Enrick quints. He rushes in, throwing a shoulder at what he believes to be the real Enrick, but instead finds only air.*
: "Hm... I guess I tripped over my beard on that one..."
((Hit. Mirror Image struck and removed. 4 remaining.))
: "That's the least you can say..."
The Enricks then offer a flurry of rapier attacks.
*Mahler attempts to quickly parry away the barrage of blows, but to no avail.*
: "You're quite fast," *Mahler compliments.* "Don't mind my stiff shoulder."
*Mahler follows up with his own trio of punches, elbows, and shoulders to try to bring the noble down. He rams into one mirror image, blowing it away. Then, spinning, elbows another one, causing it to disintegrate into nothingness. Finally, he swings around with a wide backhand, which Enrick deflects with a flick of his rapier.*
: "I see you!"
((2 mirror images removed. 1 miss.))
: "Well done!" Enrick compliments in turn, "Here let me shuffle the cards now."
As he says that, the remaining images spin fast around the real Enrick... whichever this one is now that all of them swapped position.
: "And did you see that coming?" He follows with a stunt and three more thrusts of his weapon.
((1 miss.))
*Mahler puts on a more serious face as he takes more hits. He loses his foolish composure and puts his mind back into the fight. He does another set of shoulder bashes in order to try to weed out the real Enrick from his set of illusions.*
((Hit real Enrick, but 3 misses))
Enrick dodges each blow nimbly and chuckles.
: "You've got keen eyesight I see." He comments while he and the images circle each other again for confusing effects.
: "My images... Let me show you them!"
Then he attacks again, three more times.
((1 miss. go))
*Mahler, becoming upset at his inability to land a blow, throws punches instead of shoulders in an attempt to narrow is on Enrick. His first impacts one of the remaining images, shattering it. Two more come close to hitting once more, but once again, the swordsman agilely evades.*
: "How are you able to evade so quickly!? I have never fought a foe such as you before."
((1 mirror image hit, 1 remaining. 2 misses on Enrick due to BLASTED TOO PRETTY TO DIE))
: "It's all in the footwork!" Enrick answers with a smile as keen as his rapier, "By they way, your shoes are untied."
: "... I don't wear shoes."
And then Enrick failed terribly.
((OnlineHost: Lord Oddeye 23 rolled 3 20-sided dice: 1 1 16))
: "Good point." He admits.
: "Maybe YOUR shoes are untied!"
*Mahler laughs, then strikes back in retaliation. His fists find no purchase at first on the real Enrick. He almost makes it past the speedy noble's defenses, but it turned away at the last moment by some sort of unnatural defense.*
((Miss, Miss, and yet another forced miss))
Enrick glides back graciously, his cape fluttering in the wind. He offers his adversary a toothy grin.
: "But I like challenges!" He then dashes forth to hit Mahler in quick, repeated thrusts, way faster than the first time.
((3 misses.
Use up 3 charges of Belt of Battle to gain another full-round action.(swift action)
1 miss.))
: "That was impressive. How did you do that?" *Mahler inquires as he lashes out with another stream of punches that he hoped would not be doomed to fail this time. Mahler is able to score an elbow on Enrick's midsection, knocking the wind out of him for a moment.*
: "Looks like I have caught... hm... a second wind?"
((1 hit, 2 misses))
Enrick huffs heavily at the sheer force of the blow. He is forced to recoil to keep his balance.
: "...Sorta. And I like accessoring, that's how I live up to my own shimmering expectations!"
Enrick follows with another trio of attacks.
((2 miss.))
*Mahler tries to hit once more, but the speedy noble is too quick for him.*
: "Perhaps you are correct. Maybe you will have to help me after this."
Enrick shrugs with a pleasant smile.
: "Time will tell!"
He then somersault to the side and assails the witty golem.
((Miss Miss Miss))
*Mahler quickly deflects a few sloppy rapier thrusts, supposing that Enrick was taking this battle less serious and becoming confident in his ability to win this. Mahler nods to Enrick, happy to have avoided any more blows for the time being. He throws a shoulder into Enrick, then twists to catch him with the other. The second comes close to Enrick's chin, but the noble defiantly looks up, narrowly dodging the blow. He elegantly sidesteps a final elbow from the golem, and Mahler looks almost flabbergasted.*
: "I thought I had you for sure with that one! You must show me how you do that."
((Mahler miss, hit negated, miss))
: "What can I say? I'm a boon to the eye! It's amazing!" Enrick laughs off the blows and counters with a series of his own.
((2 miss.))
*Mahler shrugs off the attack, then throws a solid punch that catches a mirror image in the chest, causing it to dissolve, leaving only the real Enrick.*
: "Sorry if I come off hard to you."
*After the single punch, Mahler slams his fists together with a sound like thunder. A gleam of light passes over his body, and he appears overall shinier than before.*
((Hit image, last one destroyed. Mahler activates GRANITE GUARDIAN. Effect lasts for 4 rounds.))
: "Too bad. This attack had little punch to it!" He watches as Mahler offers a radiant sight, "Ooo! Shiny!... But I'm still lighter than you." He smirks and brings his rapier forth... then withdraws it at the last moment. Ending up behind Mahler with an agile leap, he springs out of the golem's reach before this one can react. The shrewd swordsman then gestures like the previous time when he cast his spell. This time not 5, but 7 clones of the noble burst into existence.
((Use Trick : Timely Misdirection. (swift) Mahler loses his AoO for this round. Backs away 20' and cast Mirror Image. 7 clones.))
*Mahler sighs and shakes his head, launching into another charge at his opponent. His fist lands right in the middle of Enrick's sternum, only to have the image disappear.*
: "Well. This is going to be long."
((Hit image. Nat 20. -_-))
: "Looooooong! *chuckle*" The many twins of Enrick return the golem's terribly powerful blow threefold.
((2 miss.))
*What Enrick had anticipated to be an awesome blow turned out to be a tinkle on Mahler's hide.*
: "Sorry, still being too hard I guess. I think that might have tickled."
*Unconcerned with the noble at the moment, Mahler proceeds to rip and tear apart a number of Enrick's mirror images.*
((3 hits, all on images. Enrick is down to 3 images.))
Enrick frowns. Mahler's rocky hide had indeed become as thick as granite.
: "Ah, maybe I have to rethink my strategy then." He begins to assail the golem, landing two blows against his carapace, to no avail. Last one however is accompanied by a fit of fluke and a spark of his legendary wit as Enrick strikes a weak point unexpectedly. "...Hah! Never, I say never!... let your guard down." And this blow somehow breaks through this formidable armor, causing actual damage.
((Hit, miss. Lethal attack last. Nat 1. Better Lucky Than Good used. (swift). Nat 1 is now Nat 20. Hit. Use Quip "Don't Let Your Guard Down!". This attack ignores DR.))
*Mahler watches the first strike bounce harmlessly from his incredibly hardened skin. Then, he bats away Enrick's rapier attack. The third one, however, he didn't see coming. The rapier pierces right through his stone, and he feels actual pain.*
: "Ow! That actually hurt! What happened to a spar between friends? One good turn deserves another, though."
*Mahler launches a violent uppercut, disintegrating another of Enrick's clones. The then lashes out with a powerful right hand, striking Enrick in the shoulder. He finally goes for a headbutt, but it manages to be too unwieldy and the nobleman dodges easily.*
: "That was certainly impressive, but perhaps we should refrain from actually injuring one another. I get the point, so don't make me beat it into you," *Mahler says with a wink.*
((Hit mirror image. Hit LETHAL, miss.))
Enrick staggers from the mighty attack.
: "Ah, sorry. My passion unwittingly took over and I couldn't resist. The gap was so obvious!"
He makes an apologetic gesture and resumes his somewhat restrained attacks.
: "Whoever said words can never hurt? *chuckle*"
((2 hits. No damage after DR.))
*Mahler shrugs, then launches a few more attacks on Enrick, hitting with one nearly right in the space between Enrick's ribs. The flamboyant aristocrat shifts slightly to the side at the last moment, making what might have been a painful blow into a lesser one.*
((Hit Enrick. Miss Hit (Nat 20) Miss.))
: "Oh look! A flying squirel! How cuuuuute!" Enrick exclaims, pointing at the sky. The noble then attempts to withdraw from melee insidiously, going back to a safer spot and humming his character theme to himself, motioning his hands to cast a new spell.
((Tumble 28. Move back 20'. Cast Elation on self.))
*Mahler reaches out as though to stop Enrick, but he slinks back too fast. Mahler once again closes the distance with his fist coiled back, charging after the noble. He again lands a deadly blow, only to see his foe disintegrate before him.*
: "At least I do not tire. I am, however, tired of those."
((Charge, Nat 20, but hit image. 1 left.))
: "You're as restless as my gust of wind!" Enrick spouts jokingly, talking about his father, laughing mischievously and striking again thrice with his rapier.
((two hits.))
*Mahler, says nothing, just laying down more attacks. He shatters apart the last image, but proceeds to be unable to lay a hand upon Enrick.*
((Last image destroyed, miss miss))
Enrick fakes a parry and takes advantage of this to land three more attacks.
((1 hit.))
*Mahler launches a trio of very well placed punches, but Enrick is able to haughtily avoid each blow.*
((15 15 15. Enrick uses TPTD.))
Enrick dodges each one of the attacks prettily, following with more but failing to do much harm.
((All miss.))
: "Maybe the poignard of your jokes is dulling."
*Mahler lashes out with an attack that comes even closer to hitting the Destonian, only to have him dodge once more.*
: "I'll get you eventually!"
((Miss due to TPTD))
: "You're welcome to try. *smirk*"
Enrick hacks at the golem again, landing two neat blows.
: "My! Aren't you a tough cookie!"
((1 miss.))
*Mahler launches 3 more punches, this time striking the noble quite easily for a change. He lands a solid blow to Enrick's arm, narrowly misses his midsection, then checks him with his shoulder, coming very, very close to hitting Enrick in the sternum.*
: "Sorry for being so blunt."
((Hit, Miss, Hit (Nat 20, so close to a crit). 42 subdual damage.))
Enrick nearly collapses from the heavy mass of rock that slams against him.
: "Wow... Now we're serious business."
He attempts to leap past Mahler's stout form to line a blow from behind, but his feet unfortunately trip on the golem's head and he lands poorly, unable to stay on his feet after such an awkward move.
: "Wahhaah! I miscalculat- ouch!" He hits the ground and rolls over, lying helpless at the golem's feet.
: "Oh well, I guess that joke fell flat afterall." He says matter-of-coursely.
But that's underestimating Enrick to say he would lie here for very long. Indeed, the noble forces himself back up with a series of nimble acrobatics, faster than you can say it. Wasting no time, he attacks again.
((Tumble and Jump : success and failure. Fall prone. Use Trick "Back On Your Feet" (swift). What it says. Doesn't provoke AoO. Attack. hit))
: "Very impressive, Lord Enrick."
*Mahler gives the compliment before lashing out with a number of blows, once again tagging the noble with a fist. He then takes a step to the side so that he's still in range, but beginning to turn the battle in a different direction*
((Miss Hit Miss. 5' step.))
Enrick smiles wearily.
: "I do what I can." He then flips backward and casts a new spell, vanishing from normal sight.
((5'step back. Cast Invisibility. lol))
*Mahler, at least still aware of where Enrick had moved to, tries to enact his plan anyway. He moves, placing the wall on the far side of Enrick from him, then rushes toward his opponent. Unfortunately, he miscalculates Enrick's exact location and winds up moving straight through where he thought Enrick had been.*
: "Unfortunate. Good trick, though."
((Mahler moves, attempting a bull rush attempt but misses due to invis. He moves, stopping about 10' from the wall))
SUDDENLY, THE SCENE LETTERBOXES.
The focus is on Mahler, who looks around for Enrick's new location, unsure as to where he could be.
*Mahler looks around, turning back toward the direction Enrick had been, wondering where he had actually gone to.*
: "What's wrong? You look a little stoned!" A taunting voice comes from beside him. A well aimed rapier thrust then flies from the opposite direction and catches Mahler off-guard as Enrick's flashy smile and the rest of his body reappear.
((Move around some feet. Activate Deathstrike Bracers. Strike once and hit.
19! Threat
Confirm: 18! Upgrade Threat!
7 + mods = hit! Upgrade confirmed!))
*Enrick's bracers flare, and Mahler feels as though he's about to be stabbed through the heart as the rapier slips between the gaps in his stone body. However, a sudden "TINK" is heard as it stops on something inside.*
: "Looks like you are stuck a rock and a hard place. Let me help you with that."
*Mahler lowers his right shoulder and reaches out with his left hand, ramming into Enrick and pressing him with all his might into the wall. Just then, a goofy grin on his face appears and Enrick's head falls back, the color drained out of him.*
((Fortification Roll: 1d100 = 19. Crit Negated!!!
Bull Rush into the wall!
Opposed STR Checks:
Mahler: 1d20 + 9 + 4 + 4 = 13 + 17 = 30.
Enrick: 1d20 + Faerie = 7 + Faerie.
Enrick is pushed 25'! Wall stops him, forcing him to take subdual damage!
http://knight.alphaalec.com/sfcw/sfcw4/sonic_3_-_stage_clear.mp3
As a note, both Enrick and Mahler were at about 12-13 subdual hp left right when this happened.))
: "... SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO THAT!"
The view of the scene returns to normal.
*Mahler kneels down, placing his hands upon Enrick's now prone body, and channels healing energy into him.*
((Lay on Hands. 9 lethal damage healed. 9 subdual damage healed.))
Enrick lets out a groan and wakes up after a moment, sitting up and looking at Mahler with happy bewilderment, tilting his head from side to side and chuckling goofily. Then he jerks his head and takes on a more serious expression, well, as serious as a fruity nobleman can be after a long spar.
: "Oh, hey Mahler! Woah, did a... mountain fall over my head just now? I wouldn't be surprised with all those mountains around." He says, rubbing the back of his neck gently.
*Mahler gives Enrick a hand to help him up.*
: "Sorry. More like a church."
The noble looks at the living construct confused.
: "Ah... A church now? How could a church soar into the sky and- oh." He interrupts himself, noticing the large bodily shape printed into the nearby wall : his shape. Or rather that of Mahler after he rammed the noble into it.
: "Well here's something you don't get to see every day... Nice fight anyhow! You're certainly a worthy opponent!"
: *Mahler smiles.* "It certainly was. You had me worried for a while. Perhaps you can teach me how to fight like that. It is intriguing, though hopefully it does not conflict with how I fight."
His expression brightens up.
: "But certainly! We could start off with the art of delicacy." He nods, "My style requires an awful lot of it. Oh and then the butt of these jokes, if you get my drift." He winks, "But you're well set in that regard. I was very impressed by your display! We'll just have to work it into a convincing force." He slides his rapier back into its sheath and joins his hands, "It's amazing the things you can do by will and wit alone!"

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Thu May 01, 2008 7:42 pm
*Mahler nods. The noble had certainly amazed him for as frail and flippant as he seems. There was truth to what Enrick had said. Everything. Their talk, the phrases in battle, and their post-sparring discussion. With a warm smile, Mahler responds.*
: "They work incredibly effectively it seems. We might need to work on your glass jaw, however." *Mahler glances down then sees something... amusing!* "Perhaps you can borrow my beard."
The fancy nobleman snickers at this.
: "I would rather borrow your punch! Haha! You're one vigorous piece of granite."
: "Thank you, Enrick." *Mahler looks out over the ledge once more from the wall, and notes a chillier breeze blow by than what had earlier.*
: "Perhaps we should go inside and better tend to our wounds. We have been out here a long time."
: "That's right, my friend! What's more there is still plenty of things left to do on this glaring day!" Enrick answers, walking towards the entrance.
: "Oh, really?" *Mahler inquires.*
Enrick looks over his shoulder at Mahler.
: "Ya really!" He replies cheerfully, "Now let's fix those nasty bruises before it's tea time. I feel like eating some pastries after this. *chuckle*"
*Mahler walks with Enrick into the fort once more, seeing to it that the noble gets a warm meal and his wounds mended quickly. All and all, for walking out on the balcony to think, Mahler had certainly gotten answers, and for that, he was glad.
Most of all, Mahler had made a new friend, and for that, he was gladest of all.*
((http://gh.ffshrine.org/song/3410/39))

Posted by: Alpha Fri May 02, 2008 5:54 pm
woop

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Fri May 02, 2008 6:41 pm
It is a clear, yet crisp morning in Fort Ordalia, and Talacre has been up for a few hours already. Having spent some time climbing the cedar trees, he drops down to the hard ground, to the pile where his gear is. : "Doing some morning exercise?" A smooth, singing voice comes closing from a short distance.
: "Not really," Talacre says. "Just climbing them to remind myself of home." He turns around. "Good morning, Enrick."
: "Likewise." The noble replies serenely. After a short pause where he leans his back against a tree comfortably, he speaks up again, "You haven't been here for very long, right? Say... How do you like it here? This place, the climate... None of this is very comparable to Eastern Parmecia."
The elf shrugs.
: "It's ok here. A bit cold, but it is winter in the mountains after all." He pauses, stretching his arms up. "I think I just much prefer Stamp. Also, it's weird sleeping at ground level," he says with a wry smile.
: "Ahh Stamp village... Its nature, its grass, its... trees!" The noble nods, "I've been there occasionally, although never to settle for very long, even moreso due to these nasty conflicts occuring. Still, such an amazing place without peer!"
: "Thank you," Talacre says with a smile. "People sometimes look down on it, due to some of its more unsual qualities." He shrugs again. "But oh well, what do they know?"
: "Indeed!" He offers a gentle smile, "Some people simply lack enough taste. One does need taste to appreciate the beauty of nature afterall." He looks around at the grove, "And I must say... This area isn't bad either. A little cold at times, but certainly beautiful."
: "I agree," Talacre says with a nod. "There are certainly worse places our fort could be. And...," the elf places his hand against one of the cedar trunks. "Since Sorel grew these, the area has vastly improved."
: "I couldn't have asked for more personally!" Enrick states with a faint laugh.
: "Everyone's different," Talacre says, also with a light laugh. He then turns to his where his gear is, and pulls his courtblade out of the cold, hard ground where he's placed it. "Up for some sparring?" he asks, turning back to face Mr Fruit.
An ardent, barely perceptible glimmer lights up the swordsman's gaze.
: "Is that a challenge? *smirk*"
: "No, it's an offer," Talacre replies, also with a smirk. "You can back down if you want to..."
The fancy man's hand plays with the hilt of his rapier.
: "I accept your offer then, my friend. However it feels awfully wrong to disturb the peaceful beauty of this fine cedar grove... Should we bring that to a new level?" He winks, raising his index finger to the treetops, and the morning sky.
Talacre gives the noble an odd look.
: "You can fly? I didn't realise you had magical talents."
Finger still raised, the noble straightens up and outstretches his palm, wiggling all his fingers. The small tabard he wears over his armor glows a soft green hue before reassuming the color of the cloth. Then he begins to ascend slowly.
: "Why yes! Yes I can." He wills his rapier into his other hand, looking down at the dervish dancer, "And I know that so can you." He adds grinning further.
: "Well, I can't fly," the elf replies. "Just jump ridiculously high and air walk. Still, it's almost the same." He turns back to the pile and picks up his chain shirt, scabbard and ioun stone. "Give me a minute to put this on," he says, pulling the armour on. He then straps the scabbard in place and flicks the ioun stone above his head. "Ready?"
: "GO!" The shouts back, taking to the skies.
Whispering a word of activation to his scabbard, Talacre runs forward and jumps into the air, and begins walking through it, quickly coming up to the same level as Enrick, above the tree tops.
((An epic battle then ensued...))
Enrick soars the air in a sitting position and 'gets up', following with a magic spell that conjures up an invisible barrier around him. He then lowers his hand and points at Talacre.
: "I declare my dodge on you, my friend! *guffaws*" The circlet on his forehead flares as he laughs out loudly and many copies of the noble spawn to life around him.
((Shield cast. Use up one charge of Circlet of Rapid Casting. (swift). Cast Mirror Image. 6 clones.))
: "Hey, that's pretty cool!" Talacre says. He then moves forward with blinding speed, bobbing up and down through the air. Upon getting within proximity to Enrick, he sets out several slashes with his sword, aiming only to hit, not to cut.
((Dervish Dance, move and full attack))
The first swing goes horrible wide, but the follow up attacks take out two of Enrick's images. The third targets the real thing, but Talacre's strike falls short. He continue to move and put distance between the two.
: "And useful too!" he adds.
: "It's very helpful during parties!" Enrick says, closing the distance between him and the elf and lining a thrust at his shoulder but missing by a hair.
: "Entertaining too, I'm sure," Talacre agrees as he takes aim. Luck is with him as his first hit strikes the real Enrick again, with a powerful strike. A follow up strike misses, but the next one also hits, thudding into the noble's shoulder.
Enrick and his images all recoil from the incredible attack, fliping like coins into the air in unisson. The Enricks circle each other and massage their shoulder, looking at the dervish feverishly.
: "Ehh... You elves and your keen senses... *smirk* That doesn't bode well for me."
All of them then deliver a trio of blows against Talacre.
: "But I haven't said my last word!" The voice comes from amongst them with bravado. However the elf doesn't even need to try and dodge each one.
((Full attack. OnlineHost: Lord Oddeye 23 rolled 3 20-sided dice: 3 4 4))
Talacre merely laughs before launching another string of attacks. Like one of his previous attacks, the first goes horribly wide. The second goes through though, once more colliding with Enrick.
Enrick winces, drained by the terrific blow, his images vanishing into a puff of smoke. Slowly he turns his head to Talacre.
: "I uh... resent!... this attack... against my... persona." He stammers before falling unconscious. The nobleman glides down slowly from whence he came, that is back under the cover of the cedar trees. His body hits the grass of the grove gently and he lies there stunned, battered, defeated.
: "Oh, bugger," Talacre mutters as Enrick's form begins to drop. "Should have thought about this earlier," and he begins diving after the noble. It quickly becomes apparent though that he's dropping at a safe rate. So he slows until he also gently comes to rest on the grass. Taking out a healing potion from his pack, the elf uncorks it and pours the potion down Enrick's throat.
: "Hey, time to wake up," he says lightly.
After a short while, Enrick awakes and finds the will to heave himself into a sitting position. His eyes cross Talacre's visage and the dashing swordsman stares at him silently, agape. He eventually raises a finger at the elf and opens his mouth to speak, but even after a moment no word comes out of it, his face giving out his astonishment. He nods, tilts his head from side to side, he looks impressed. Finally, he gets up and dusts off his clothes. Then he looks straight into the elf's eyes and speaks loudly, rubbing his hands together.
: "Well, well, well! Aren't you talented at what you do."
Talacre laughs, glad to see the noble back on his feet.
: "Well, I do spend a lot of time training. But thank you nonetheless. I suspect you may have been at least slightly unlucky though."
: "Looks that way." Enrick answers, rubbing the back of his head, "I've never really been a morning person either... Nice warm up for the day though, I admit."
: "I'll agree with you there," the elf says. "It's good to spar with people from time to time, especially as my own brother barely ever will with me."
: "Really? Don't you think it is precisely because of your brotherhood?" Enrick asks, retrieving his rapier from the fall and sliding it back into its sheath before turning back to his new sparring partner, "He strikes me as the fighting type."
: "Oh, he is," Talacre says. "And from what I see he's very good at it. I think he just prefers to only fight when necessary. Usually he trains and spars with daggers he can summon with his magic."
: "Ah well, not everyone can appreciate a good fight between friends. And there's nothing like an aerial spar under the blurry morrow sky. *chuckle*" He nods, checking the time on his golden watch, "Speaking of which, I've got to run! It's almost time for breakfast!"
Talacre nods.
: "In that case, I think I'm going to climb one of the trees again. Thanks for the spar, Enrick."
: "You're welcome!" The noble exclaims jovially, "Until next time!"
With a final wave of his hand, Enrick jogs out of the grove.

Posted by: VoxPVoxD Fri May 02, 2008 9:44 pm
Telanna finds Dam poring over an atlas. "Are you busy?" she asks, not wanting to interrupt him. "I can make time, I suppose," the rogue said. "I don't really know some of the people here; you would be...?" "My name's Telanna," she says. "Telanna'brielle. I'm with Cedric's force. You're... Dam Dicem, right?" she adds hastily.
"I've been called that, among other things," he said, nodding. "And you have more of a connection to Sorel than everyone else, right?"
Telanna looks slightly suspicious. "I thought you said you didn't know me?"
"Who can really know someone?" he asked, smiling. Folding his arms as he leaned back in his chair, he said, "There are so many things about you I don't know... preferences, dislikes, sleeping habits... Plus," he added, tapping his temple, "I didn't have a face to match with the name."
Alarm creeps into Telanna's expression. "Are... are other people talking about me?"
"Well, I was dead for a while, so I guess it's only fair that you don't know me," Dam said, nodding. "Look... no offense to you, or anyone else, but I'm in the business of knowing things. Carving it out of people who deserve much worse than a few puncture wounds is a pleasant benefit of receiving said information, but it's the knowledge I'm after. Besides... Sorel's the second-in-command; I'd be a pretty bad leader if I didn't keep tabs on him."
Telanna is silent for a moment. "Do you make a habit of showing off all those things you know?"
"I make a habit of making enemies and offending people," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "It just so happens that showing off is an easy way to do both."
"Oh, then I guess he wasn't so far off after all... Are you really bad with women too?"
"Well, the last one I was involved with ended up dead, so I'll leave it to you to make that determination," the rogue said, smirking slightly. "How do you usually do with the men? I bet you're a real heartbreaker, aren't you?"
"I don't know about heartbreaker..." Telanna says. "I turned my last boyfriend into a chicken, though."
"Ooh... did you?" Dam said, his smile broadening. "Have you met Doctor Coventry? I think you and he would get on well..."
"I did, actually. That's why I'm here," Telanna says. "Back in the Fairy Woods when we all met up we had a big feast. Coventry made himself look... well, like you, and he started hitting on me. Really, really awkwardly." She smiles. "I just wanted to meet the real thing."
"Sorry to disappoint," he said, shrugging. "That's funny, though... my looks and his personality should have made the perfect combination of asshole. Wonder what went wrong..."
"He was pretty busy trying to make Dad feel bad, I think," Telanna says. "Probably not enough energy left over to sweep me off my feet."
"Maybe I'll finish where he left off," the rogue said, grinning. "So... is there anything I can do for you, aside from crush your faith in the human race?"
Telanna pulls a face. "You couldn't keep up." She looks down at the maps. "Just that Dad talked a lot about you, and it made me want to meet you. See how much he was under-selling it."
"I guarantee that the old man overdid it. Again," Dam said. "He does that. Between him and the kid, I almost wanted to join my last... female acquaintance."
Silence fills the space between Dam and Telanna. "Did you?" she asks.
"Oh? Is that why I died?" he asked, his eyes focused on hers. "Do you think that's why?"
"I don't know," Telanna says quietly. "He wouldn't tell me how you died. Or what happens when you die."
"Well, I won't spoil the second one, since that's not really my place to say," Dam said, "but I can tell you how I died the first time."
"I don't want to-- that must be really personal," Telanna says. "I wouldn't ask you to tell me something like that."
"It was a woman, you know," he said, grinning again. "Two, really, but one was a real hell-bitch... we had a spat, I got put out of the house. And the other... well, the other was a real killer, if you catch my drift."
Telanna looks down, unsettled. "Sounds like--sounds like a real party," she says weakly.
"Oh, don't worry... they both got their just desserts," Dam said, winking. "Besides... they say that the good die young, so I have plenty of long, violent years left to look forward to. But after an event like that, I was all tuckered out. Had to take a bit of a nap."
"Heh... yeah, I guess..." Telanna looks up. "Are all your jokes so sad?"
"I figure it's best to have them match the state of the world," Dam said, turning to the map, covered with denotations indicating various allegiances. Gesturing to the color that matched the fort, he said, "There aren't enough of these markers out here."
Telanna moves around to stand behind Dam, so she can see the map from the same angle he does. "What are we going to do about it?"
"Well, I don't know what you're going to do about it, but I planned to make a few asthetic changes. A repositioned heart here, bisected face there... I find these things work wonders, don't you?" the rogue asked. "Of course not... this probably isn't quite your taste, is it?"
Telanna leans down, bringing her face even with Dam's, her head hovering inches above his right shoulder. She continues to stare at the map. "When was the last time you completely misjudged someone?"
"Probably the last time I interacted with someone," he said, amusement painted on his face. "Any suggestions for who and what to rip and tear?"
"I don't know," Telanna says. "I don't know anything about most of these places." Her voice drops to a whisper. "And I'm not good at pretending I do." She stands up again. "What are you thinking?"
"The Ur are our top priority right now," the rogue said cooly. "They've got the firepower and resources to trap gods, which has severely hampered efforts all around the world. Not only that, but their powers of deception and ability to infiltrate make them one of the worst things we'd ever have to deal with. Now that we've got two thirds of their leadership sharing dirt-lined beds with the worms, we need to hit the last one hard and fast before they have time to mobilize and really show us how they managed to trap Volcanon and Mitula the first time."
"Past that," he continued, "we need more firepower. If we can possibly start getting a hold of some of the same machines they're apparently using, it would save us resources and manpower to harry them into more advantageous positions. Plus, nothing kills morale like knowing that the guy patting your back yesterday is putting a dagger through it tomorrow."
"Even so, I'd just settle for a bit more weaponry. Swiftjoke's special stocks running low means bad news for us, obviously, but I like to think that it represents a shortage of resources world-wide," the rogue said, finishing with the words, "Besides... I need to work on my archery skills, and I could do with a bow like the one the catfolk got from Mitula."
"So, the plan is to smash the Ur and find some toys?" Telanna asks.
"Of course, but if I don't use the big words I don't get the big chair during the leadership meetings," Dam said, grinning. "And if you're not in the big chair, there's no point in even being there."
"Yeah..." Telanna says. "Well, I don't want to keep you. It was nice meeting you. You're not so bad, after all." She starts to walk out, but stops and turns to face Dam again. "See you around." With that she departs.
"Not so bad... must be losing my touch," he mused, his eyebrow raised slightly as a slight smile remained.

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Fri May 02, 2008 10:49 pm
"Do you have time for a chat?" "Mr. Dicem," Graigus said, looking up. "What is it?" "You've been making yourself pretty scarce," the rogue said. "Haven't seen much of you since you got back from your last trip." "I haven't wanted to be seen," the dwarf replied. "I... it wasn't easy."
"I can imagine," he said. "Well... no, I guess I can't. It's not the same as anything i've had to deal with."
The monk looked up, his eyes more sunken in than they'd been in the weeks previous.
"I... I just wanted to say I was sorry, I guess. And... the old man's around, so... maybe... you should talk to him," Dam said. "When you're ready, I mean. No rush."
Graigus nodded weakly, then lowered his gaze.
Turning slowly, the rogue left, giving one last glance at the monk.
The dwarf sat in silence for a long time, alone in the tent. Then, finally, his hands shaking, he slipped them under a mass of rough cloth, withdrawing a thin glass bottle.
He looked at it intently, the motion of his eyes matching the motion of the dark amber liquid inside. It shook like a pendulum in a storm, his hands unable to control the fine motor actions he was used to. His right hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle, before he pressed it close to his chest.
Graigus sat there, alone, clutching the bottle of alcohol tighly as his whole body shook. Hand quaking, he slowly inched his right hand the rest of the way up the neck of the bottle, then over, until he reached the cork. Savagely ripping it out, drops of the liquid splashed on his clothing, as he savagely guzzled down the gin inside.

Posted by: Knight_019 Sun May 04, 2008 3:04 am
*Outside of Dam Dicem's tent a fairly loud plodding can be easily heard. Before long, the sound nears the tent, followed by a restrained, yet forceful knock on one of the support beams of the tent's frame.* : "Take it easy on the tent... some of us don't enjoy the winter so much when it's inside," Dam said, "Come on in."
: "Sorry Mr. Dicem."
*Mahler feels the need to apologize for some reason, but then takes only a few steps inside. He tries to quickly gauge if Dam is busy, but notices no easily discernible sign that he was in the middle of anything, and so continues with what he had in mind.*
: "Do you have a moment for me to talk with you? I feel it is important."
"Sure," the rogue said, nodding. "You know, we don't talk much, Mahler."
*Mahler nods his head in agreement.*
: "Yes, that is one thing I wished to talk about, in a way."
*Mahler takes a few more steps into the tent, bringing himself into conversation distance with his leader. Things had changed much over the course of his journey. He suddenly had a lifetime of experiences in the course of months, even though he had lived a considerable number of years beforehand. He, too, had changed, though he could hardly notice it happening aside from his perception. Now, he felt it happening again.*
: "I hope I did not injure you in Mitula's shrine. I... did not know what to do in the situation."
"No... I may not be a golem, but it usually takes more than a hug to put me out of commision," Dam said. "Nothing you need to apologize for."
*Mahler smiles, glad to hear that Dam had been neither injured nor angry from what he had done. While the crunching sound had certainly been quite audible, he guessed that people just made those sounds and were able to be compressed to some degree.*
: "I want to ask you about, well..." *Mahler pauses, not sure how to say it.* "Change. How does one know when change is happening?"
: "Man... I go from being a rat bastard to the old man in no time," the rogue said, shaking his head. Then, responding, he added "Well... the way I see it, doing something over and over again usually gives you the same result. Now... when you do it, and you don't get the usual result... something changing. Or if you do something you don't normally do... that's also change."
: "... you are not a rat," *Mahler remarks coolly, yet seeming almost surprised that Dam would say that while having an almost throw away tone to the comment as well.*
: "I see. Has what has happened to you changed you at all?"
"Well, I've had no choice but to do different things, so I guess so," Dam said. "The things I used to do don't quite get me the same result, and I don't like the result they'd get me."
: "Is that bad?"
: "That's what I'm still trying to figure out," Dam said. "It's not always that easy to figure out off the bat."
*Mahler puts a fist up to his chin, resting his head on it as he thinks.*
: "So it is true that change can be both good and bad."
: "Not really," Dam said, shrugging. "Change is change... it's not a devil, or a paladin, who swears himself to a cause. It is what it is."
: "The only thing that makes a change good or bad is how we take it. I prefer to see if I can find something I like in it before I label it bad."
: "I see. That makes sense," *Mahler says, dropping his hand back to his side. He then crosses his arms, now ready to ask what he was really after.*
: "I feel I have changed much through our journey. At first, I almost believed Doctor Coventry's words, that I was programmed and nothing more. However, I have become more reserved and less able to understand people while still interacting and living with them. The disconnect has become great, and I am not sure if it was good or bad, since as it happened, I became stronger and better able to stand against everyone trying to do harm to us and the rest of the world."
*Mahler shakes his head, the ground he was treading becoming more difficult to deal with. In some ways, it made him angry. In other ways, he was scared. Emotions were welling up inside him, but he didn't know how to handle what was coming out and being expressed right now.*
: "I became stronger because of the hardships and horrible things I have seen. Long ago, Ombligo was nearly killed, and it hurt, but not like a sword blow. Sorel was killed, and not just once, but multiple times. People around me with whom I had lived much of my outside life were cut down around me. I felt as though I was failing."
: "Doctor Coventry questioned what I am. If I am merely programmed, then I fail by not acting as a perfect protector. When first, you were captured and killed right in front of me, and the others held me back, I knew I must fight, but I could not because of your orders. I felt as though I had failed then. When Doctor Coventry went missing, and blood was found on my hands, I felt I had failed then as well, and I did not know how I was capable of doing such a thing until I found out what had really happened. Then, when we almost rescued you, but you were killed, it was another tragedy."
: "These things have caused change."
: "I see..." the rogue said. "Well... how do you feel about the change?"
: "I do not know, which is why I have come to you. However, what I do know is that I think change is happening again. I have been talking to the noble, Lord Enrick, and he quickly tried to become my friend. He has been showing me many things, such as a different way of fighting that he uses. It is very interesting, but the things he said to me I liked."
*Mahler begins tapping his fingers on his body, then is reminded of something. The way he does it has a consistent, rhythmic pattern to it.*
: "I've heard things that remind me of what people enjoy. Music in sounds such as walking. Ever since, I have thought more about what makes a person, and it has made Enrick's words even more potent. There is just a very large change I see coming, and it is both wonderful and frightening."
: "Well, from what I can tell, there's nothing wrong with this change," Dam said, folding his arms across his chest. "All I can say is take it where it's leading you, and keep an eye out for things that might not be so great in the meantime."
: "What if it meant... to be rebuilt?"
: "Define 'rebuilt' for me," the rogue said, raising an eyebrow.
*Mahler looks down, then around, before looking back at Dicem. Even he did not know all the specifics, just that it could be done.*
: "Golems are made by a wizard, priest, or some other type of mage, and they are given a semblance of life and a soul. From what I understand, it is possibly for a golem to be reconstructed after being created."
*Mahler makes a motion as though sighing, continuing.*
: "I want to feel what it is like to be a person more than this current form and body allows... so I am considering being reforged."
: "What would that do to you, though?" Dam asked. "Would the body be the only thing that changes?"
: "Presumably I would keep my memories and I would still be in this body. However, my perception, understanding, and - as a result- persona would change. I would seek to become more human."
: "I can't decide for you if that's a good way to go," the rogue said. "Just keep in mind that there are times when not being so human isn't so bad."
: *Mahler nods, then smiles.* "I have heard that people break easier."
*Mahler's smile widens, realizing he had just made a joke without trying.*
: "Humor? You sure you even need the upgrade?" Dam asked, a slight smile spreading on his face. "Look... weigh the benefits with the disadvantages before you do, but if you think this is something you want, you should do it."
: *Mahler nods.* "That is what I needed to hear. Support from friends means much to me right now."
: "We're friends?" Dam asked, mock shock on his face. "What did you do wrong to deserve a friend like me?"
: "If what I did wrong was to not try to discover one of the world's greatest heroes and ultimately fight to save the world itself, then I would rather be wrong. You have been a good person, Mr. Dicem. I do not know your past, but I know you now. That is why I value your opinion, both as my employer and as a friend."
: "Well, I'm not much of an employer anymore, what with the original expedition over... but I could probably do the friend thing," Dam said. "The fact that you value the few truths that come out of this mouth means a lot, you know."
*Another emotion comes over Mahler, not making him not sure how to respond.*
: "I... I do what seems right. It is good to know that there is a mutual connection between us." *Mahler extends a hand toward Dam.*
: "Same here," Dam said, grabbing the golem's much larger hand with two of his own.
*Mahler squeezes the handshake, taking care to not cause injury this time.*
: "Thank you for listening, Mr. Dicem. You have been very helpful."
: "Glad I could," the rogue replied. "Say... have you talked to Sorel and Ombligo about it?"
: *Mahler shakes his head.* "No, but I plan to. I did not want to concern them if it would not be... necessary."
: "I get it," Dam said, nodding. "But I think now's the time to 'concern' them."
: "I agree. I will think on it more, and then discuss it with them as well. I hope they will accompany me when the time comes."
*With that, the two finish their parting words, and Mahler turns to exit the tent, leaving Dam back to whatever work he was contemplating before Mahler had interrupted. Mahler, in turn, leaves to wander around the fort, unaffected by the cold weather. He needed time to think, and being out in nature, a place he arguably didn't belong, would help him come to the conclusion he needed.*

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Sun May 04, 2008 3:16 am
<{[ Week 2, Day 1, after sundown ]}> "You're the guy in charge of building the fort, right?" Dam said, approaching the gnome. "Zook?" "Yeah..." Zook says, looking up from some supply invoices. "Something I can help you with?" "Just figured I should meet the man responsible for whatever room I end up in," he said. "Also hear you're an admirer of the Ancient's advancements."
"Not so sure admirer's the right word, these days," Zook mutters, putting the papers down. "You got a name?"
"Dam Dicem is the one I usually answer to," he said. "I poked around in a few books over the years, but nothing major... just an introduction to the ideas behind machines."
"There's really only ever one idea behind machines," Zook says. "It's the one that goes, 'I should be able to do that'. What sort of machines are you interested in?"
"I never got far enough to look into building anything... I was just picking up the basics," the rogue said. "Can't even look into it, since I lost all my books and stuff when I died."
"One second," Zook says, popping back into his tent. He comes out with an armful of books. "Here, I'm pretty much done with these."
"Thanks," he said, "But I'm actually going to be away for a few days, so if it's all the same with you I'll grab them when I get back."
"Taking a vacation?" Zook asks, dropping the books on a piece of canvas.
"You could say that," he said, giving an odd smile. "Going to go check out my grave, make sure they did a good job."
"Kind of a morbid thought, isn't it?" Zook asks. "Visiting your own grave?"
"Yeah, well... I'm that kind of a guy," Dam said, shrugging. "Maybe I'll pick up some stuff in Galam, while I'm there."
"What sort of stuff?"
"Probably things out of my price range," the rogue said, shrugging. "Would have picked up some teleporting boots, so I don't always have to worry about who's getting me back and forth, but I'm about forty-nine thousand gold short."
"That's quite a lot of money," Zook says. He looks down. "You, uh... how'd you die?"
"Stupidity," Dam said. "Officially, a spell cast by a traitor. Wasn't pretty..."
"That's not right," Zook says. "None of this is. There isn't a thing about this that doesn't stink. Not a thing." He looks up. "Be back in a minute."
"These things happen," the rogue said, shrugging. "What are you looking for?"
"I'm looking for... this." Zook comes back out dragging a huge heavy sack. "Here," he grunts, holding it out to Dam.
"You're kidding, right?" the red-haired human said.
"We've killed quite a lot of people," Zook says. "People who had wives, brothers, children. When was the last time anyone stopped to mourn? Nobody has the time to look back and see the trail of dead we've left. Not even when we see ourselves in the pile. Take the money." Zook laughs, but the sound lacks mirth. "What am I going to spend it on? Weapons? We don't need any help killing things. Armor? It's never made a difference. Toys? Who's got time to play now? Take the money," Zook heads back into the tent, his voice growing smaller. "You can come back for the books."
"I'm sorry," the rogue whispered. "Sorry that someone actually thinks iI'm right..."
Then, aloud, he added, "If, hypothetically, I take this, I'm going to pay you back."
Zook doesn't respond.
"I miss the days when I was the weird one," he said, taking the money. "I miss those days a lot..."
<{[ Week 2, Day 2, just after sunrise ]}>
Dust scattered as Dam Dicem touched down, the force member who teleported him in just behind him. Nodding, he bid them on their way, not noticing their speedy departure in the same way the two arrived - teleportation.
His steps carried him quickly to the now awake city of Galam, bustling and moving more than it had over a month ago when he arrived in search of Max.
Dam goes to Galam. His first stop is the castle where ravaged soldiers looked more at ease. A few raised eyebrows, one even asked if he'd been killed in the battle more than four weeks ago; however, his words were more than enough to assuage his fears.
He talked with them, not just for a few minutes but for nearly five hours. When the rogue next entered the fresh air and daylight, he has found that the removal of the cult goes very, very well. The Cult presence was always minimal to begin with, due to their dependence on devils; with them out of the picture, most of the island is extremely unsympathetic towards the Cult's actions. Ian himself leads the charge, at the front lines of the conflict as he had been when the war was thickest and at his own door.
Satisfied with the report, he headed deeper into the merchant section, the gnome's gift in hand. In an hour's time, he was exiting not only the commercial area but the city itself, his original boots in hand as he reached the spot where he landed. Smiling slightly, he clicked his heels and returned to the base.
<{[ Week 2, Day 2, an hour before sundown]}>
The druidess' words only minutes old, he returned to the atlas. But, though his eyes scanned the places he'd spoken of with Telanna, they stopped and focused on Grans Isle, specifically the thick woodlands there. He reached for rolled up scrolls - maps of places all around the globe - and pulled out one, stretching it across the thick table.
Wrong one; The letters "GALAM," printed in bold in the common language across the top of the map, made that clear enough. He rolled it back up, , returning it to the pile. Another, then another were withdrawn and replaced, before he found the one he wanted. He poured over the details of the forest, memorizing every inch of it as described on the page. It was almost sundown, the last orange rays matching the color of his hair as he stepped out of the war room. He pinned a note to the entrance as to his whereabouts, one which fluttered slightly as he teleported out of Fort Ordalia.

Posted by: Knight_019 Tue May 06, 2008 2:06 am
It is not long after the raid on the cult storehouse, and Laeralas is leaning again a building at Fort Ordalia, examining the book of power he'd been given from the looted treasure. Not yet reading, just examining. *Not far in the distance, Merkass is practicing shooting arrows at a makeshift target he set up with some random materials he found around the constantly constructing fort.
TWANG-FWISH
The sound of the Holy Bow of Mitula is almost like that of a quiet rocket as it sends arrows into the target. Merkass then steps back 10 feet.
TWANG-FWISH
A set of 3 arrows lodge themselves into the target then dissipate. At 100 feet from his target, he was finding this to be to easy. He needed practice. He needed something to work on. The last battle on the pirate ship had taught him that. He had become so used to firing at enemies in close range that he had lost some appreciation for the art of firing at a distance. Merkass backs up to 200 feet to start over.
TWANG-FWISH
Though quite a distance away, Merkass is still able to put the arrows in with ease. He backs up again, this time to 250 feet. He takes aim at the ever-visually-diminishing target.
TWANG-FWISH
Two of the arrows lodge themselves into the target, though the third goes wide, impacting an arrow shield behind. Now he had a challenge. After noting the miss, he wondered how Zook was coming on the scope his Gnomish friend had been working on constructing.*
The elf's keen hearing easily picks up the twanging of the bow. Deciding to investigate, and perhaps make another friend, he closes the book with a slight thud, and hones in on the sound. It isn't long when Merkass comes into sight, and Laeral gets to see his long distance shots.
: "Considering I come from a village of elves, it should mean something when I say you're probably the best archer I've ever seen," he calls out with a smile when the catfolk takes a pause between shots.
*Merkass' head perks up, then the Catfolk abruptly turns in the direction of the noise, bow at the ready. However, he sees an Elf he had seen before around the fort and in battle. He lowers his weapon to his side from the ready position, then lifts his left hand in the air to signal a greeting, then lowers it quickly.*
: "The evil stain is the worst this world has seen," *He answers.*
Also raising his hand in greeting, Laeral approaches, so they can converse without having to shout.
: "And?" he asks. "Is that the only reason you've worked towards the skill you now possess?"
: "I also come from a village, but my people live on the ground. Long ago, a training party of my brothers was attacked by undead and many were killed. I hunt because I am from the plains. I hunt evil because it is evil and threatens every person on this planet."
*Merkass sticks a hand out toward the Elf who had suddenly taken interest in his activities.*
: "Merkass, Pouncing Lion clan," *Merkass says, making his abrupt, matter-of-fact nature clearly evdident.*
Laeral extends his hand also, and shakes the catfolk's with a strong grip one might not expect from one a lithe as himself.
: "Laeralas Arishel, of Stamp Village," he replies. He tilts his head slightly and regards the catfolk. "But you speak only of what you use your skills for, not the process in which you train for it. Do you enjoy archery? Do you enjoy bettering yourself at it?"
*Merkass stows his bow at his back, then draws a glistening, silver dagger with a ribbon of red cloth tied to the hilt.*
: "The wind blows because it must. I hunt because I must. My enjoyment is irrelevant. Since you asked, I have enjoyed hunting and scouting since I was a kit. I am most apt with a bow, though I am just as comfortable with this. And what of you, Laeralas?"
Laeral offers a lop sided grin.
: "I can tell already that we're two very different people," he says with a laugh. "But there's nothing wrong with that. The world would be dull if we were all the same." He shrugs. "I am skilled in both the arcane workings and using my daggers in combat," and he flips out his kris daggers. One is a fiery red metal, with a braid of green hair the same shade as Laeral's wrapped around the handle; the other is a dull grey that somehow seems to have a blue and white sheen every now and again.
: "And then combining the two into one form of blending harmony," and he pauses yet again. "But perhaps I could be named more fortunate than you. I have lived five decades, and seen many years of peace. I first studied and trained long ago for my own enjoyment and my own curiosity. I have now gone to utilise this to aid as best I can in this war."
*Merkass smiles, then shakes his head.*
: "I have never understood Elven lives. We Catfolk live in the moment, everything fast an deliberate. Elves, on the other hand... you all take your time and know you can. You have five decades of life, and I have not even two, yet we both fight in this same, accursed war," *Merkass finishes, emotionally fevered, and sheathes his dagger once more.*
: "Perhaps in time you might understand, as I might understand your viewpoint. Though perhaps there is less difference than one might initially think." Laeral then sighs. "But yes, we have the time. But being one and fifty years and knowing I may have lived only a quarter of my potential life can be difficult at times. Especially knowing that I won't age," he says slowly. "But enough of that. Tell me, Merkass, do you always attack the evil we encounter from a range, or do you ever find yourself fighting up close with that dagger of yours?"
: "Do not take offense to what I say. I find the same in humans... the noble Enrick I possibly understand the least, but I find him a valuable friend and ally all the same."
*Merkass lifts a hand to run through his mane and straighten out some of the tangles from the wind, then feeling one of the cloths from his undead adversaries in his hair.*
: "I have when the need presents itself. Cedric makes explicit use of my talents at range, though I have have had to press into some foes in close combat. Each foe brings ever more peace to my slain brethren, and especially with the dagger," *saying this, he runs his hand down to the longsword at his side,* "Though I have made frequent use of this as well."
: Laeral grins. "Don't worry about offending me - it takes a lot to actually get to that point. And you know Mr. Fruit, do you? I've known many humans in my years, but he's certainly one of the more unique ones," the elf says. "And well then, if the case is that you're not always attacking from range, maybe you can put this to use," and he hands the manual of gainful exercise to the catfolk. "It was recovered from the Cult storehouse raid and given to me, though I don't actually have need of it - the enchantment it offers would do little to aid me in my line of combat."
((More to come))

Posted by: Alpha Tue May 06, 2008 9:25 pm
*Merkass gives the offer some thought, and then - wait, what?* : "... Mr. Fruit?" *Merkass quirks an eyebrow, slightly confused, but then continues his previous train of thought. Such a manual to increase his physical prowess would indeed be useful.*
: "This manual is intriguing, but are you certain? I am surprised by your gracious offer."
Laeral grins.
: “It’s a nickname I’ve given Enrick. It seems to suit him quite well. And I’m certain, if you’re interested in it. My style of fighting does not rely on physical strength too much, so it’s likely you could benefit more from it.” He shrugs. “Gracious maybe. We’re all here to help Rune as best we can – this will be one means of aiding that.”
*Merkass looks down to the book in his hands, feeling its weight and hoping its impact on his abilities would be the same.*
: "Many thanks, Laeralas. Here," *He says, reaching into a pocket of his flight suit and pulling out a crudely carved, wooden medallion with some imagery upon it.* "I have had this since I was young, given to me by a friend from long ago. Take this in honor of this exchange."
Laeralas smiles warmly.
: “My thanks,” he says as he takes it. He deftly pulls out some string from a pocket, and within a few seconds has looped it into a pendant. “Be sure that I’ll keep hold of it. Enjoy reading the book – it’ll probably take a while for you to finish it, but once you do the benefits should be apparent almost straight away.”
*Merkass nods, thankful from the gift from his new Elven friend.*
: "Perhaps one day I may return the favor."
: “Perhaps,” Laeral agrees, still smiling. “Now, I must take my leave. It’s good to have met you, Merkass.”
["The wind at your back," *Merkass replies. With the Elf heading off, Merkass stows everything away then heads back to the place he had made his room to begin studying.*
((Laeral loses Manual of Gainful Exercise +1! Merkass gains Manual of Gainful Exercise +1!))

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Wed May 21, 2008 6:05 pm
((A LONG TIME AGO...)) The group appears on the mansion grounds. "Welcome to Enrick Mansion!" : "Enjoy your stay. *chuckle*" http://www.voxpvoxd.com/rustysfc/EnrickMansion.mp3
The mansion is surrounded by a solid barrier of long, black, spiked metal bars twisted around funnily and ornate with branches growing ivy leaves. The high portal opens to a verdant park where a gardener works on his daily tasks. Two big statues of white unicorns stand on their high pedestal on either side of the dusty lane waving towards the entrance of the mansion. The mansion itself stands solid, embellished with the ages, supported by its many tall columns of hard granite. The surroundings are flawless and many kinds of flowers adorn the area which makes the whole place rather pretty overall.
Two guards stand on either side of a marble stoop. Behind them are the large gates of the mansion, made of the finest destonian wood and decorated with two copper lion head each holding a heavy ring of the same metal into their mouth. The golden doorknob is strangely shaped and looks brand new compared to the gate itself.
Upon entering the mansion, a guest is first greeted by a splendid, colorful carpet stretching from the front gates to not so far across the great hall. Right ahead is a magnificent stairway, vaguely similar to the one at the entrance in that it is made of the same material. The difference is that the banisters on each side as well as the whole structure converge slightly to make the way up progressively narrower up to halfway through where only two persons can cross side by side at the same time. From this point on, it curves finely in the exact opposite direction and the banisters wind up separating upstairs to the right and left, bordering two, older looking corridors shaped in L up against the mansion’s walls and visible from the entrance. A magnificent old copper chandelier hangs from the ceiling and is the only source of light in this room aside from the sunlight entering through large tiled windows.
Incidentally it is easy to discern new from old in that what was already there during the former owner’s life has this old-fashioned, virtuous look about it and is anything but uncommon. And indeed nothing can catch the eye more than this wide image of lord Enrick’s face displaying a flashy smile printed over the surface of the floor in the middle of the hall, like such a godly icon in a temple that would be dedicated to his person. Not only this, but mostly everything that is in the hall, be it bookshelves, houseplants and other indoor furniture, depicts Enrick’s unique taste in matter of decoration.
Many doors can be found along the two main corridors of the upper floor. Most stand for guest rooms which have been locked for a long time and still currently are by lack of visitors.
An old path in Enrick’s personal room, which was meant to stay hidden from sight but has lost most of its secretiveness and purpose thanks to Enrick’s shrewd decorating initiatives, descends towards the bowels of hell, or so it seems by the time it takes to get to the end of the spiral staircase that lies beyond, only lightened by torches resting in their support against a seemingly endless wall… Though the air feels damp, almost sickeningly moist proceeding further down, none of the walls seem to reflect the ambient humidity, clean like the first day of their construction…
At the end of this sinister way down, a heavy wooden door opens to a single corridor barely lightened up and home to a range of empty cells. There is another door to the right that lead up somewhere in the garden and a sleepy guardsman leaned against a fine halberd stands in the back where the corridor ends. Beside the sound of his steady breath, all is eerily quiet.
~~~~~~~~~~
Enrick moves out immediatly from the front portal near which the group materialized. He steps lightly towards the gates of the mansion, glancing keenly around at the outdoor walls and the garden in his advance. Finally, he stops and looks up to the roof of the world admiring, taking a deep breath.
: "Aah... Home sweet home!" He exclaims with cheer, greatly satisified at how nearly everything had remained the same during his absence. It never ceased to amaze him : his home needed little maintenance and barely underwent the negative effects of time.
Grinning and laughing softly, the noble then turns around to face the others.
: "Well everyone! We made it to my beloved abode!"
The Doctor cracks his fingers, glancing around the magnificent mansion with an appraisingly smile, "Nice place you got here..." He chuckles looking to the fruity noble, "So, what's our first step? Spread out and socialize... Discuss plans?" He winks at Sheila, "I got a few dandies that I think our sneaky scout will enjoy."
"Ooooh, like what?" Sheila says, eagerly.
:"Firstly..." the noble cuts, raising a finger, "I'll go ahead and arrange a little something for tonight. I'll also notify everyone of our arrival so the staff take care of the rest. You know, the formalities. It will take but an instant. I'll be back shortly. In the meantime... enjoy yourselves!"
He grins and moves in his elegant fashion to the gates where the guards acknowledge him and let him inside.
"Hindering the Destonia war effort, helping ourselves, and..." The Doctor chuckles, "...striking at something dear to the heart of our enemy." He chuckles ruefully, "Though, I guess we should do that talking thing first."
"Wait, wait, lemme hear yer idea first!" Sheila says.
"Well, it just struck me, even conscription armies need some logistical support..." The Doctor says with a smile, "...and we definitely could use some more resources ourselves, so, if we were to pay a visit to the coffers of his Imperial Highness, that would kill two bird's with one stone and insult one of the bird's pretty badly." He frowns adding seriously, "I know it's not as simple as all that, but it doesn't have to be a theft, it can be raid... If we can oppose the Imperial Army directly, why not the Palace guards?" He chuckles, "Even if most of the coffers are off in a war chest somewhere, the treasures in that palace have to be...pretty sweet... I guess Lord Fancypants would have to sit that one out though or never come home again."
"Ooooh, I love that idea!" Sheila says, clapping her hands. "Like Robin Hood! Stealing from the rich and giving to those in need! Who ah, happen to be us at this time, but hey, it's all good and for the cause! I was just going to steal some documents and look at their war plans, but this, this is definitely also something I wanna do!" Sheila says with a grin.
"Of course, I guess this is on company time so we'd have to donate most of the loot to the team war chest..." Coventry nods, "But worthwhile anyway..."
"Agreed, agreed," Sheila says, nodding sagely. "But it's the memories that count most, right? Sheila looks at the ground oddly for a moment, as something occurs to her.
"Can I set his bed on fire?"
Sheila takes a moment to snap out of it, then she grins. "Do it! I dare you! We should set HIM on fire! Uh, providing he doesn't agree to not let up on the war, of course."
"I wonder..." The Doctor rubs his chin, "We'll need to check that out, we'll he be there or off slaughtering peasants?"
Sheila shrugs. "I could steal his itinerary while I'm swiping documents I guess."
"Don't get caught." The Doctor warns, "...I'm not going to be very good at saving you if you are."
Sheila chuckles and winks. "These slowfoots can't outrun me! I'll be in an' out like lightning!"
"Just remember that old fancypant's has a few shreds of reputation left, wouldn't want to cost him that or he might have to marry a commoner..." The Doctor warns, then chuckles, "Now I'm hoping diplomacy fails, does that make me a bad person?"
"Of course not!" Sheila says. "We're talking about Emperor DOMINATE here! There are few people in the world who need their comeuppance more badly! An' ta answer yer other question, I'm gonna sneak out here so they don't know I'm associated with Enrick," Sheila says, shrugging. "Sneak back in when done. SOP!"
"Piece of cake..." The Doctor replies.
"Oh, I could go for some cake..." Sheila says with a sigh. "I'll have to pocket some of that loot and earmark it for a dessert raid."
"No, I meant bring me some back." The Doctor smiles, "Preferably from the Imperial bedside." He frowns, "Or liquor...or whatever he has there."
Sheila frowns. "I'll try... but I can only carry so much even with the pockets of holding."
"Well, let's leave that for next time..." The Doctor replies, "This time, be sleek and next time...we'll get the hornet's nest all riled up."
Sheila frowns. "So wait, am I stealing stuff or am I not stealing stuff then?" She shakes her head and shrugs. "If I see an opening I'll grab it." Sheila grins. "I wonder if I can nab his crown..."
"Well..." The Doctor replies with a grin, "If you steal this time, next time when we go for the big stuff, it'll be more difficult."
"Yeah, but I gotta steal their docu... Oh right. I'm supposted to take pictures, not steal," Sheila frowns. "Well, I'll take it as it goes."
"Pictures?" The Doctor asks.
"Pictures, you know what a picture is, ri-oh. It's like a painting... uh... OK so I have a device that can record a perfect image replication of what I see," Sheila says, nodding.
"That's really handy...." Coventry whistles.
Meanwhile, whimsical as ever, the Destonian aristocrat looked around, advancing gingerly towards the center of the great hall. Like back in the garden, he studied the room in its every detail in an overenthusiastic fashion. His gaze finally set upon his grand portrait printed on the paving at his feet and he gave it back a similar expression, nodding amusedly. He was really back home.
“How was His Lordship’s journey?” An august voice called out from above, preceeding noises of footsteps upstairs.
The noble looked up to the first floor already aware of the speaker’s identity : he would have recognized this voice among many for having heard it times and times again from his earliest childhood.
: “Archie!” He exclaimed with the joy of a child, walking in that direction to greet him downstairs.
Archemion Grimfold, loyal butler that worked under two generations of Maerglecrows, descended the stairs one step at a time with the becoming propriety he was always known and appreciated for. His piercing blue eyes were of the best effect on his elderly face framed by the bunches of radiant silvery hair that covered his ears. They had lost nothing of their former brightness, set like two marbles of crystal into the brows under his furrowed forehead. He didn’t react much at all to being called ‘Archie’ for short, be it due to a hardened patience, yearly resignation, or by force of habits.
Enrick unfolded his arms and gave the man a long friendly hug, almost too familiar for one of his assumed social rank within Destonia’s strictly set hierarchical order. The other man wasn’t taken aback. He was used to such familiarity coming from the dandy aristocrat and had grown accustomed to his fanciful ways so much that this didn’t feel out of place at all, anchored in the morals of these walls by use and wont yet unfathomable or dubious to the very least from a true hardened Imperial’s point of view.
: “How’ve you been!” The noble asked cheerily before releasing him from his intertwined arms and setting his gaze on his face, “Are the others alright? You look well yourself!”
He inspired deeply to absorb amounts of this familiar air and breathed out loudly.
: “Ahh… a truly pleasant trip it was indeed, although I feel both happy and comforted to return under my own roof! It feels so great to be back at home! I take it by the look of things that not much has happened since I was here last, yes?”
“A negligible amount of events of least importance, Sir.” The butler reported in his naturally formal tone, “I have ensured that His Lordship’s instructions were wholly respected and applied in the daily routine during his absence. Everything went smooth and according to His Lordship’s latest directives”
The lord adventurer nodded slowly, his lips spreading into a soft grin.
: “Good… And what about dear Domaric? Any news regarding my… heheh duties to the crown?”
“I have had no word from the Empire since Sir set off on his journey to the foreign lands.” Archemion said simply, “No messenger bearing news or request of the sort. It is safe to assume that Emperor Domaric does not wish to call upon Sir’s services at this time.”
: “Well, well, this does look promising afterall… Oh, out of curiosity, have we had to face any attempt of intrusion lately? My last partnership didn’t take too well my way to split out our acquired richnesses based on a handful of criteria and… well, this is of no real importance but they happen to know where I live.”
The man nodded assuredly.
“His Lordship has nothing to be afraid of. The veterans in charge of the mansion's security know how to dispose of thieves. He has to remember furthermore that there were no bandits to prowl about even more so after his late father passed away years ago.”
The noble smirked at this.
: “Heh, that much is true but you never know… they can be stubborn enough at times… *guffaws* Ah, well, kidding aside how did you take care of the little trinkets I brought back from my previous trip? Did the messenger I paid to do the job come to visit you at least?”
“That he did, Sir.” The butler answered, “As for the treasures His Lordship sent over, they were locked in the safe at the usual spot, sheltered and concealed from sight as he requested.”
: “Excellent job, my good Archie! Whatever would I do without you here to watch over things?”
“It is best not to ponder too much over the question, Sir.”
: “Very much so. Now on to the point of my visit. I need as many free rooms as we can afford ‘cause I’ll be housing a few guests here for an undetermined amount of time.”
“This should not be an issue, Sir. The remaining rooms were left vacant for years but they are comfortable. I will ensure that they are in decent state to greet His Lordship's people properly before tonight. How many of them are to stay here?”
: “Grandiose! Uh… Six at most… plus a pet. Yes that’s it.” He adds after counting them up on his fingers, “Would you also convene the cooks and arrange a little something for dinner?”
“But certainly, Sir. It shall be done by the book. I will show the guests the way to their respective room.”
: Well then! I’d better go and tell them about it this very moment! I’ll be back shortly, you may go notify everyone of what needs to be done in the meantime.”
The man nodded calmly and went off to another room in the back.
Enrick rubbed his hands against each other with a satisfied grin and proceeded back to the entrance. He approached the gates and his head popped up through the opening.
: “All is in order everyone!” He called out to the others, “Come in for the visit and pick a room! Dinner will be served a few hours from now!”
Without waiting for a reply, he headed back inside and went upstairs, straight to his room to check on things.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Sheila!" Johann calls out from the stairwell he had emerged from. "You got a second? I wanted to ask you something."
"Sure!" Sheila says, turning. "Whatcha need?"
"Wanted to talk plans. Mind if we chat somewhere a bit less public?" the gnome says, turning back towards the stairwell. "The Doc and the wealthy city boy are welcome to join in, if they want."
"Enrick! Doc! Planning session!" Sheila turns and yells. "OK, they're notified. Lead the way."
Johann nods, and wanders down into the dungeons. Opening a cell, he walks back and quickly strides straight through the wall. On the far side of the illusion, the two gnomes are resting in a medium sized, stone-walled room. "Whaddya think?" Johann asks proudly.
"Needs chairs." Sha'aasta sniffs.
"Bah. It'll do your flabby fanny good to sit on something other than cushions." Johann retorts. "If you want them that bad, I bet you could steal one from upstairs. My magic isn't here to spare you the effort of going up 20 stairs."
"Then why am I even wasting time with you?" Sha'aasta wonders. "I bet if Holzgeist could cast spells, he wouldn't gripe about saving me all that hard work."
"It's more than that, the descent was a good 10 minutes of walking," Sheila says with a frown. "Eck. And the dungeons of all places... Ah well, function over form, I guess. Whatcha need?"
Johann turns back to the taller girl. "First off, thought I'd let you see what I've been doing the last little while. This room's about as secure as I could make it. Scrying proof, alarmed, blessed, the whole works. Oh, and protected, too. Meet Ginny." The gnome gestures over to the far wall, where a massive creeper vine rests in a pot against the wall.
Sheila frowns. "I've heard of talking to plants to make 'em grow faster... but this is ridiculous!"
"Eh, give her a day, and she'll talk back. She's not quite ready yet, but in a day or so, she'll be awakened- almost as smart as a gnome. You can guess where that'll put her against a human. And she'll be protecting this room against anyone who wanders in here or tries to bother us, so it'd probably be worth it to stay friendly to her."
Sheila shrugs. "I've made friends with worse."
"So this is probably a good place for us to plan without being overheard. I've got some ways of stowing any toys, trinkets, or evidence we collect as well down here. Heck, if you really want to be safe, you could probably bring a bed down here."
"Oh, I'll be casting some spells on all of us that should make it more difficult for anyone to follow you magically. Just so you're aware."
"Anyhoo, back to planning. You're going to be, umm, collecting information, right? Stealing, spying, pilfering, and generally doing things that would make your mommy ashamed, right?" Johann asks.
"Sleep down here? No thanks," Sheila says, scrunching up her face. "Did you see the guest rooms? I haven't sleep in a bed of silk since... Hmmm... Now I mention it, I don't think I have..." Sheila says, rubbing the back of her neck. She stops and wags her finger. "But more reason to start! Yeah, I'm going to copy any important documents I find, and the Doc has suggested anything of value that's lying around I may as well swipe. Warchests and the like. Put a crimp in their funds, however small."
"Right," Johann nods. "Have you ever worked with a diviner before?"
"Once in a great while, why?" Sheila asks. "Oh, you think they might use magic on whatever I steal?"
"That's possible, and I can try to detect that sort of thing if you bring anything back. But I'm also going to be trying some scrying of my own."
"What's your plan?"
"Right now, I'm going to wait until you and the others do some general scouting. I've already done a scan of the area, and there aren't any unnatural monsters or army camps around the town. There might be some inside the city limits, and with teleporting, range doesn't mean much anymore, but you get the idea. But I'm going to wait for more targeted scrying until you and the others get more information. There's too much chance that my scrying would be detected for me to waste time watching random people. But if you find a general or a diplomat who raises your suspicions, let me know."
"Can do!" Sheila says, saluting. "I'm on the case!"
"Better yet, get me some hair or nail clippings, or at least a portrait of them. It'd make my job a lot easier."
"Second, I thought you might want to know what Sha'aasta's doing, so you two aren't tripping over each other."
"'Kay."
"I figure I'll become a maid." Sha'aasta pipes up. "Nobody notices them, they go everywhere, and they all talk to each other. Just so long as some nobleman doesn't get too randy and make me break his fingers, I'll never be spoted. Betcha I find out more dirt than you do!" the girl adds with a grin.
"Ha! I'll take that bet! Thirty gold coins!" Sheila says, a gleam in her eye.
"Deal." Sha'aasta grins. "HEY!" Johann shouts. "That's my money you're betting!"
"Are you saying you doubt my abilities? You think another girl's better than me?" the gnome asks calmly, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
Johann glares, sighs, and shakes his head, as Sha'aasta turns back to Sheila. "How did you want to get in touch with me, if you have to tell me something, or if I have to tell you something?" she asks
"Hmmmm," Sheila puts her finger to her lip. "Y'know, I hadn't thought about that. I kinda figured I'd just run back here with whatever I found an' let you look at it."
"Yeah, but a maid working in castle, but living in a mansion? I can't count on coming back here all that often."
"Can we use Joe here as a go between? Magic or something?"
"Yeah, we've got stuff worked out between us. I just figured you'd want some sort of emergency plan, something in case you need to get in touch with me right away, and can't take the time to run back to the mansion. I doubt you'll recognize me over there." the gnome adds with a wry grin. "I'm a pretty good hand at a disguise, especially with Johann's help."
"Well... Wear a sign! Like... A sword pin on your blouse! Or something!"
Sha'aasta sighs. "We'll work it out later, then." Johann looks up. "So, there anything you want to warn us about at this point? Keep us from stepping on any toes, or stepping in any bear traps you set for our destonian buddies?"
"Well, I'm going to wait until after Enrick tries to diplomacize with the Emperor. When that invariably fails, and it will cause he's nuts, then I'm going to infiltrate the castle, look at their plans, and steal their warchest if I can find it."
Johann nods. "Sounds neat. Anything else we need to cover?"
Sheila shrugs. "Not that I know of. Just watch for anything noteworthy I guess. I'll probably do more when I find out what the situation is."
"Righto." the two gnomes nod.
---
Michael grins as he heads around his old home, towards the poorer quarters, and saunters around, moving through street to street, picking up on the general gossip and bustle. He shook his head because, as usual, the empire was in a mess thanks to the ruling classes. He turned, swiftly leaving, heading back to the mansion, after hearing a few usual tidbits of information, strolling up to the others, a worried frown on his face.
"Well then, Prince Medion, the only sane one has apparently been banished, Some nobles want to attempt a coup and as always it's tough for the poor, especially with conscription in place. All hail the empire" Remarked Michael dryly.
In the afternoon, the Doctor takes a stroll around the Imperial Capital, getting reacquainted with the grand sitting and listening to the various rumors circulating through the city.
The Doctor learns about the grumbling of some of the nobles and the Prince's banishment as well as the conscription. There was also a rumor that the Rainbloods miraculously survived and are serving the Emperor once more. There wasn't much more to note... Rumors alternated between the glorious victories of the Empire crowed by some, and quiet whispers of war atrocity by others.
~~~~~~~~~~
The day of the scheduled audience with Emperor Domaric arrives...
: "Ahh! Another enjoyable day in the capital! Pity we'll be spending the most of it stuck behind these walls instead." Enrick states as the majestic Destonian stronghold comes plainly into sight, "Oh well, duty is duty. Then again this place isn't all that unpleasant to visit if you stay away from all those pompous bureaucrates."
"Well, the whole suicide aspect of this mission might add a bit of jolly good fun." The Doctor says with a wry smile, "Here's my plan, I'm your lowly Doctor and I don't speak unless spoken to. Hey, after all, you are the noble."
: “Hmm... There should be no problem with your taking part to the meeting...”The noble replies absently, beholding the castle and weaving a singular symbol into the air, “The Emperor can’t ignore the fact that I still honour my lineage’s oath towards him, nor that I’m held in high esteem by the Imperial court.” He finishes the spell, willing sparkling energies unto his body.
He turns to the doctor still walking.
: “I'd wager on our success.”
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing that your luck is legendary, else I might start to worry a bit…” The Doctor replies with a grin which only fades slightly as he glances down at his hand, “Huh, that’s strange, my hand seems to be shaking uncontrollably… I must be famished, should have had a bigger breakfast.”
:"We'll sort this out after we return from the audience. Today's lunch should be exquisite! Moreso seeing as this is a special day." Enrick nods.
"A special day? You mean the double executions at the imperial courtyard?"
He stops and leans his head aside, eyebrow furrowed.
: “Huh, I can’t say that I’m aware of a… Um, either way those two surely deserve it. I wouldn’t go so far as to displease old Domaric.” He simply states, resuming his walk, “I got wind of a few stories circulating amongst the nobles here in the capital, most ending like this. Others are rather… ah, but I’m getting off-track there. Let’s move on to a better suitable topic.”
He throws a glance at two sentinels passing by and grimaces appraisingly.
: “...Like how the Destonian militia need new uniforms. I occasionally saw low-ranked soldiers during my time spent in foreign lands and these Imperial armors feel so bland in comparison. Ah well… at least they’ve got nothing to envy to their officers.”
"It's safe to say that someone has terrible taste..." The Doctor nods, "Well, they should all be recalled and given proper uniforms before any more invading is done." He shakes his head, "Simply dreadful... Well, lead on, I've never had an audience with his Imperial Highness."
: “Don’t expect much more than those soldier outfits then...” Enrick replies with a side grin, “I fear those be quite formal.”
The Doctor nods, "Please tell me that at least the women of the court dress better?"
: “Oh, that they do… don’t expect to find any where we’re headed though.”
He shakes his head slowly at the hopeful Doctor.
: “The Emperor could surround himself with better company at his meetings but alas! He usually prefers the presence of trustable officials to that of charming maidens during these occasions.” He smiles smugly, “I’m to assume that I will be the only glint of elegance at today’s conference.”
: “That's excluding yourself of the lot, of course!” He hurries to add what he thought afterward wasn't that obvious.
The appointed time comes and Enrick is escorted into the audience chamber of the Destonian Castle. Various nobles and supplicants sit around the grand chamber and the emperor reclines on his throne at the far end. He fixes you with a cold glare, waiting for you to begin.
: “Helloooooo!”
Enrick waves his hand around mirthfully at some of the audience before he arrives before the emperor in his usual fashion, stopping at a politically correct distance.
: “Your Destonian Highness!” He offers a quick low bow to the ruler of Destonia, “I am much obliged that you deemed to receive me in this day.”
: "Yes you are," Domaric says, quietly. "What do you want?"
The noble crosses his hands and carries on.
: “Simply put, I have much to recount regarding the current foreign policy of the western lands.” He declaims, “However my attention is at a more present matter at this time. May I inquire about the situation at the front?”
: "We've overrun much of the Republic's forces and returned much of our old territory to its rightful rule," Domaric says with a smile. "Aspia castle holds... but not for long."
: “Some promising news...” Enrick replies with a weasely smile, looking down at the floor briefly, “Especially now that most of them are out of the way, Your Majesty must be on cloud nine! This means what I came to discover during my stay in the foreign lands won’t hold the same importance at this point.”
He pauses and stares back at the emperor, his grin fading away slightly.
: “For I am the bearer of a disturbing story… One that has reached my ears of transient guest in the kingdom of Enrich and that turned out to be more than commoner’s hearsay as I was the eyewitness of solid facts to back it up.” He shakes his head, “I feel my duty is to make the Empire account of these going-ons, if only by matter of safety, for our common interest. Thus I have returned in a hurry to report these news.”
: "Then by all means, speak," the Emperor says.
: “Thanks, Your Highness.” He says. The noble continues with a formal speech as trim as his look, backed up at times by facial expressions.
: “A few days back, I meant to find shelter inside Enrich when I found myself overhearing a most commonplace conversation at the gate of town involving soldiers from the local security guard. Among all the unimportant tidbits they were on about, one detail, however moot, caught my attention and in such a wrong way… For these grunts went on and disclosed words from their superiors that strongly implied that threats had been uttered against our great nation in the days preceding my arrival!” He frowns, letting the emperor and the crowd a moment to catch on his words, “Needless to say, I gave little credit to such grievous statements… Even when I was subject to hear more of those ‘tidbits’, it looked as if few people outside the castle militia were aware of the intent of their monarch. But all throughout the rest of my little investigation, the gist of what I had previously heard remained roughly the same : the mood is at war in the western realm. The armies of Enrich tend to move out far more frequently than what people are used to, even though their goal is seemingly held secret to the masses. Some pretend, however, that King Enrich was pulled out of his relative passivity by important guests from a shady faction. There is even word that the king seeks to befriend the northeners only to involve them into this uprising!”
: "WHAT?!" the Emperor booms. "You mean to tell me that that upstart nation would presume to involve itself in our affairs?!"
: “I’m afraid that the evidences of it are damning, your Highness.”
He folds his arms, pacing around like a lawyer advocating his case.
: “Naturally, I would not ascertain the veracity of this information based on arguably accurate bits of rumor. Hearsay alone is meager proof and hardly justifies a public audience with your Imperial Majesty. But I have also been the eyewitness, and that’s where it gets worse, of military deployments near the southeast border suggesting implicitly that the king’s army is on the move, their intent clear on disrupting the territory’s order outside their boundaries!”
Subsequently, the noble goes on to describe the scene he’s seen not far from the Imperial border. An army of medium size was there, their march converging towards the so-called Forest of Confusion. The details he provides are reasonably believable and excruciatingly accurate. He finishes at last with a description of their coats of arm, which sound like that of the Enrich soldiers and, troubling fact, the knights of the Chaos Cult which of course he refrains from mentioning.
: "Troubling..." the Emperor says, shifting in his throne. "But Enrich is small. Perhaps a show of force will cow them into submission."
The noble scratches his chin.
: “They are insignificant pebbles in the trail of the Empire, but whoever is at the root of this outrageous conspiracy must be aware of their country’s lacks if the king is indeed looking for allies. However considering the current parties involved, this presages no good… Their numbers, although small, are now backed up by the other faction. There’s no telling whence and how the king has found immediate support for his armies, nor how inconvenient their combined effort will prove to be later on.”
He folds his arms with a tense expression.
: “I dare hope we are not getting into another full scale war this early…”
The Emperor laughs.
: "Let them all come. They will learn the might of Destonia all the sooner, not to mention our cunning."
: “That goes without saying.” Enrick responds with hints of pride, “However those barbarians, so carefree and uncouth as they are, shouldn’t be tolerated to act freely past our gates. As a citizen of Destonia, I am very concerned with the everlasting prosperity of my country. You are not without ignoring that I, like a great number of fine members of the Destonia aristocracy, have wealth and faith put equally into the Emperor’s advised guardianship. In the prospect of an invasion, this places the capital at some risk, thankfully not nearly enough to suffer defeat from unworthy foreigners, but easily responsible for all sort of economical drawbacks. Without a doubt, a war on two fronts can be handled successfully, but victorious or not the aftermath might differ greatly. Although the great annexing must be pursued until the last of the Republican traitors is sentenced and Aspinia claimed back from the renegades, in order to prevent wrong turnabouts it seems advisable that a small garrison be dispatched to reinforce the frontier both as preemptive measure and token of Your Highness’s ever so supportive attitude toward the elite classes.”
: "I'll put that to my generals later and hear their thoughts on the matter before coming to a decision," the Emperor says. "Have you any more to say?"
: “No, Your Highness. I have done my duty.”
: "Then you are dismissed. Next supplicant."
Enrick bows sligthly and withdraws quickly along with his "follower".
"He's a lot shorter in person..." The Doctor ponders, then chuckles, "Well... That was masterfully done, just don't show your face in Enrich ever again."
"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll understand. That's how I roll." Enrick answers lightly as the two walk out of Destonia.
((onlinehost: Lord Oddeye 23 rolled 1 20-sided die: 16
onlinehost: TheUnknownMarine rolled 1 20-sided die: 1))
----------
Much, much, much later that night.
At around midnight, the distant call of an alarm is heard from the castle. This is shortly followed by a series of explosions, and within ten minutes the streets are swarming with patrols of Imperial soldiers.
Enrick sleeps blissfully.
Michael sighs as he dangles his legs over the cathedral of the capital, frowning as he peered out, hearing a commotion. The reformed Warlock sees quite the commotion in the city, as soldiers swarm from the castle and the city guards are turned out.The soldiers appear to be searching for someone as they patrol street after street.Periodically, they stop and demand entry to a house.
Michael frowns at this, turning invisible as he descends, hovering above a home that the soldiers where searching, hoping to find out what exactly was going on.
"Open up!" one soldier demands. When the door opens, the soldier confronts the sleepy looking man and says, "Have you seen a woman in strange clothes and carrying two tinker weapons in the area? She'd be heavily wounded and is wanted for the theft of Imperial property!"
Michael cursed under his breath, taking wing and flying higher again, looking around the nearby streets. Sheila? Where they serious? Oh Doc...I'm gonna hurt you. He looked around, pondering where Sheila would go...He swooped back to Base, entering the mansion and becoming visible once more, heading for the "secret" room they had made.
Michael makes it to the mansion just in time to see Sheila drop in through a window. Her clothes are soaked through with blood and a gaping hole of a wound with small arcs of lightning occasionally sparking around it is through her side. Several arrows jut from her body in several places, and she takes her breath in strained gasps.
"Hey everyone," she says, weakly. "Mission successful... Kinda."
Michael curses, moving up to Sheila, handing her a potion of Cure Serious Wounds and stares at her a moment, lightly slapping her. "You idiot! What did you do!? Are you gonna be ok? Do you need another?" Michael looked concernedly at the gunslinger, helping to pull out the arrows.
"The ENTIRE guard is out looking for you, ya know."
"Don't slap me..." Sheila says, frowning. Sheila stares blankly at the potion for a moment before shaking her head and handing it back.
"Potion... naw. Naw, I'll be fine, just need to... Ow. Well... Yeah, maybe..." Sheila winces as she starts going through her pockets. "Yeah, I know. I messed up... and got found. I forgot... they'd have magical wards... as well as the normal stuff..." Sheila says, breathing hard as she rummages around in her suit. "But I lost all of them... All of 'em that chased me... Before I got back. Don't worry."
Coventry, like any decent person, is sleeping peacefully at this late hour, seeking the two hours of respite he deseperately needs from the twenty-two hours of wakefulness he spends every day.
Johann's expression is neutral as he approaches the other two. "Don't waste your potions. Let me." As the druid begins to cast his curative magic, he continues in the same carefully controlled tone, saying "I've recalled Sha'aasta, in case we run into trouble and need a hand, or have to leave. I've also posted guards of a sort- they'll warn us if anyone sniffs around here. If any soldiers do approach, I'd recommend you stay here, Sheila. The three of us should be able to deter them."
Turning to Michael, he starts to plan. "If soldiers come looking, I was thinking of disguising myself and Sha'aasta as a soldier and a sergeant or a captain. We could be having an argument when they arrive, something along the lines of acknowledging that you were quite correct, the fugitive wasn't here, but that if you gave us any more trouble about searching your lands, we'd haul you in front of the magistrate anyways. Something to convince them that this house was already being covered. Thoughts?"
The Doctor rolls over, contiuning to slumber blissfully.
Johann's magic appears to have a pronouncedly lessened effect on Sheila, magic that should've made her whole in an instant only managing to stop the bleeding and seal all but the gaping lance wound.
"Sounds good... Thanks, but... Oh, Johann!" Sheila says, suddenly remembering something. Still rummaging in her pockets, she manages a grin at the gnomish seer. "I managed to get that thing you wanted... Where is... Ah heck, I'll just empty them out..."
Sheila starts grabbing handfuls of coins and pulling them out of her pockets. Occasionally a gem or ring is also thrown in the growing pile of platinum.
"No, that's not it... This is the stuff I got from the treasury-Ha! Got it!" Sheila says, triumphantly pulls a handful of brownish-red, or reddish brown, hair from her pocket. "I got lanced by one of their cent generals onna way out, but I managed to pull some hair off 'em before I ran. General... What was his name, I remember it from the briefing... Ah! Fiderit!"
Sheila slaps down the hair on top of the pile of coins.
"I also managed to get loads of pictures of their maps and plans an' stuff... Yeah, I think I blew any chance I had of going out and about again, but it was worth it... Right? So... mission successful... Right?" Sheila says, blinking for a moment. "Whoo... I think the painkillers, magic, and bloodloss are finally begining to have an effect... Hey, if I have to sleep in the saferoom, can someone at least bring a mattress an' some of those silk sheets from the guest beds down there? Thanks."
Then Sheila shuts up as she falls unconscious.
It sounds as if the patrols are still a ways away, but there's no telling if or when one might stop to inspect the mansion.
--------
((Mission Results:
>Treasury partially looted: 3,800 PP, 3 violet garnets and 2 black pearls, each worth 500 gp, 2 spinels worth 100 gp each, 1 agate worth 10 gp, 1 bloodstone worth 50 gp, and one star ruby worth 1000 gp found. 1 Ring of Spell Turning, 1 Pearl of Power (8th level), 1 Pearl of Power (6th level, 2 spells) found.
>General Fiderit's hair found.
>Intelligence gained:
-Map of the Aspinan regions with troop deployments on it.
-One battalion troop roster found.
-Some supply lists found.
-Top Secret documents found.
Repercussions:
>Sheila is now wanted in Destonia. The next day, a DC10 Gather Information may be made to discern just how recognizable she now is.
>Castle security increased.))
Enrick, impervious to the events of this night, remains asleep and imperturbable, well muffled within the top quality sheets of his four-poster bed. Sometime during his unbreakable slumber, the noble mutters a few words, evidence of shimmering dreams.
"Ancient... shrine... two... jewels....."
The dandy rolls over, a fine grin forming on his lips.
"*chortle* shiny...."

Posted by: Alpha Wed May 21, 2008 6:06 pm
who

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Wed May 21, 2008 6:17 pm
((Who else? MR FRUIT!)) The following morning, Enrick hears of the situation and decides to make his first appearance in months into different public places of town to follow the gossips and other highlights of the day and enjoy his return amongst the crowds of the Imperial capital.
Short of his return, he sorts out different notes he has taken during the morning outing. Back to the mansion, he summons all interested parties to the hidden room down in the dungeon for concertation.
----
A table was placed at the center of the secret room, stools set accordingly for all to have a seat around it. Enrick presides over the guests, shuffling his notes casually. On his right, a fine feather and an open bottle of ink. One his left, a pile of blank scrolls. Eventually, the noble speaks up, resting his elbows over the edge of the table with both hands joined, his arms forming an ark upon which he could rest his head but doesn't.
"Alright then, overlooking the ruckus from last night there must be plenty to report." He leans forward to pick one note, feather in hand. He carries on without averting his eyes from the piece of paper, "Sheila, let's see those documents you've borrowed, if you will."
"Oh, right," Sheila says, shuffling a few papers around. "Well, I've got a map with troop deployments on it, a troop roster for a battalion near Aspia, a list of supplies and requisitions, and this top secret folder thing. Which do you wanna see?"
"Let's have a looksie at those secret documents." Enrick says, dipping the feather tip in the ink and scrawling something on the note.
Sheila hands the folder to Enrick. It contains a copy of the agreement with the Ur priests. The Empire allows their base to exist and will not hinder their plans, in return the Ur will supply the Empire with covert aid and intelligence, as well as not hindering their expansion. The Ur priests have a small base in Destonia, and the documents list its location.
"Uh-huh. Domaric doesn't mind talking heretics into his swollen ambitions, looks like."
Enrick passes the folder on to the next person around the table and scribles some more.
"Next, the supply list." He finally asks.
The list shows a LOT of Ancient salvage, tinker supplies, and technical parts being shipped to Storich, which is under Imperial occupation. Furthermore, it has a great deal of plate armor being issued to every soldier in the field, which would be odd for most countries given the amount of money it takes to make one suit of full plate.
"Hmm... Methinks the machinery is still up and kicking." Enrick comments, handing out the listing to someone else, "How would they cover such an expense otherwise without ruining the entire treasury? Money doesn't grow on Imperial oaks. Anyway, this doesn't bode too well for the opposition... *scribble scribble dot*"
Next, he takes a look at the map and roster. He studies them intently for a moment, comparing both documents and establishing relations with the previous ones. He keeps a record of his reasoning on an empty scroll as he goes. Eventually, he grabs the now well filled piece of parchment with a dubious scowl.
"Indeed... The least you can say is that the Republicans are not exactly at a vantage point right now."
He lays the stolen documents at the center of the table for all to see.
These two items let the Force see the troop strengths of the forces in the Republic region. Most are concentrated in the castle siege under command of the Mage General Ereth Eredium.
There's a sizable division based in Storich operating under orders from the Imperial Engineering Society.
There's also a large force based around Stamp Village/ Barrand, apparently to act as reserve troops or a first line of defense for a counterassault. Those troops are commanded by an elven ranger, General Valis Valborne.
Finally, under command of Cyris Clawbane, a fleet of warships in the Destonian Sea is full of soldiers and acts as a guard for the seas and coastal region, as well as being a mobile strike force
"...Or more literally, that they're screwed. Knowing Domaric, it will be a matter of months, maybe weeks, before Aspia falls. Most like, he will eventually find a way around the legendary defensive walls. He might dig his way through or underneath them, or besiege them from the skies for all I know."
He glances up from his notes at the group and crosses his legs.
"Hopefully, he's not trying it all at once, if at all. But this is how I see it : he has the technology, he has the money, he has support. I bet he can orchestrate one of those quick straightforward sieges like the one Destonia experienced before."
He turns to Sheila with a side grin.
"Well, anything else? Were shinies abound in your risky venture?"
And then there was plenty of shiny stuff for everyone. (see details at the end of post)
"Nice job and well done! Although that pretty much settles your reputation around here. *chuckle* So... How is it that the Imperial watchmen spoted you?" Enrick finally questions, "Anything of note you wish to share regarding Destonia's security procedures?"
"Weeeeell," Sheila winces, scratching the back of her head. "I kinda... set off a magical spell which among other things, set off an alarm. So yeah, magic defenses too, not just regular stuff."
"Pesky... What about the guard itself? Were they many to go after you?"
"Yeah, but I got away," Sheila says with a grin. "Stunned a bunch too."
"That's only fair, you got crippled pretty badly yourself." Enrick replies with a nod, laying words on his piece of paper and crossing others out within his current notes, "Hmm... This ought to spice things up when I pay a visit back to the castle in a much less formal context." He shrugs, "In any case, they got your profile about right and the news of your achievement have spread all over the capital. What's more, an order has been issued for your capture."
He looks at her amusedly.
"Well, how does it feel to become so famous in the span of one night? *smirk*"
"Capture? Me?" Sheila bursts out laughing. "As if! I'd like to see 'em try!" Sheila grins at Enrick. "Oh yeah, fame's part of the deal when you hook up with a Shining Force you know. Might as well get used to it now!"
"Here's hoping they didn't get mad at you too much, else Domaric might well seek his 'Bloodhounds' on you!"
He laughs.
Sheila raises an eyebrow. "You mean the Rainbloods? Aw, I'd love to have a go at them! You know how awesome it would look on my record to have beaten one?"
"Indeed! If you succeed, you'll have entire armies on the back and your portrait pinned on every wall of the Empire!" Enrick exlaims, "Think about all those admirers going after you, skimming the country in hundreds of thousands! Isn't that a delightful vision?"
He grins innocently.
"Kidding aside, this would vouchsafe much credits to anyone, most certainly. Hm... Let's not think to far ahead now. *wink*"
He browses through his notes.
"Anyway, should you feel the need to take a more casual stroll out there, I dug out a few trend accessories that were brought to your personal quarters." He adds absently, "I hope they will suit your preference. The Destonians will never recognize you in that frilly dress."
With that, the fancy noble looks up from his papers at the others.
"Well, then. If any of you has got anything else to report, now is the time. As for me, the meeting turned out successful. Kinda." He eyes Coventry briefly, "Domaric gave no definite answer but he has a reputation to maintain among the nobles. He's aware that there's a lot at stake and this ought to play in our favor for the time being."
"I'll go see whatcha got," Sheila says, turning and jogging up the stairs to her room.
A few minutes later, Sheila walks down the stairs, barely recognizable. Her somewhat wild, slightly curly brown hair is hidden by a wig of greater quality, made of fine locks of long, fair hair. The well made wig looks completely natural. In place of the GICS combat suit, she now wears a resplendent light blue dress commonly worn by duchesses in Destonia, rather frilly, with a tight waistline and jagged lace sleeves. It's rather overdone. The standard issue GICS stealth shoes were gone, replaced by a pair of elegant pearly, heeled boots. The edges are trimmed with a very fine layer of wool. A fine pair of white gloves made of soft cloth, pleasant to the touch cover her hands. Sheila's face is adorned with an amount of expensive makeup, but even without it, her face would still be somewhat blushing.
"I left the little umbrella upstairs... I ah..." Sheila says, sounding embarassed. "Isn't this a little... much? I mean, not that I don't appreciate it, but... I don't think I've ever worn something like this in my life, isn't this a bit... expensive to spend on a disguise?"
"What? No, twice nothing! I assure!" Enrick responds, indeed very pleased with the result, "Definitely an easier way to keep the guardsmen's inquiries at bay. The gentlepeople of Destonia are so obsessed with their personnal image that they come to believe anybody in their right mind would think twice before looking like tramps in public. So obviously this outfit will hardly come out as neglected, let alone raise unwelcome suspissions. Beside, how is that for a change? You look absolutely ravishing." He offers Sheila a sweet smile.
"Really?" Sheila says, looking down at her outfit. "So... Uh, I take it you want it returned in a mostly presentable fashion, right?"
The noble folds his arms.
"Returned? Nah, you can do as you please." He nods assuredly, "Yes, the outfit, the presents... It is all yours!"
Sheila's eyes widen a bit. "Really? Wow..." Sheila grins. "That's awesome! I'll have this to remember all this by, then!"
"I mean it." Enrick looks at her appraisingly, "Just be extra careful with the ribbons."
Sheila smiles. "I'll take good care of it, I promise."
~~~~~~
The sun was long set behind the lowest hills, a thin veil of dampness drawn by the coming night lingering over Destonia’s darkened landscape which wasn’t uncommon in this time of the year. The least sign of activity wasn’t unusual inside the grand mansion, but the most of it was limited at this late hour. Everything had slowly fallen quiet, fatigue taking over valets and maids and urging them to join their bedroom for the night. Now all was silent, from the main entrance to the corridors weakly lightened by their candles of yellowish wax. This fragile state freezing all occurrence was rhythmed by the tic-tac of many clocks and only broken once in a while by occasional footsteps moving through an isolate area of the mansion that didn’t last long enough to be perceived by a would-be presence, or the recurring sound of a soft… wind?
From underground, or rather from under the closed doorway leading down into the depths of the empty cells one floor below, a chilly breeze blew across the desert hall and slid upstairs as if willed of its own in that direction. From here on, the mass of air seemed to run back and forth over the surface of marble until it darted to the left off the stairway then up through the railing of the left corridor towards an ajar door like such a wild tornado.
The wind dove down and crept inside noiselessly, so softly that the door itself remained unmoved, in this room where a man in fancy night dresses slept like a baby, wrapped in the silky sheets of his four-poster bed. An unusual feel of coldness began to fill the entire room as the invisible slowly turned visible. The mass of air advanced in the silence of the bedroom towards the sleeping man who, in his wonderful dreams, was not aware of the brisk change of temperature, much less of the new presence in his sanctum.
Fine transparent feet wearing high quality shoes stepped ahead. The pieces of garment went to show the talented craftsmanship of their maker. More particles appeared to the eye : a flawless costume with ornamental shoulder pads, a long cape falling down graciously to the back of ghostly knees, velvet gloves that, like the rest of the outfit, seemed a deep white due to this state of etherealness. The visitor was dressed in the fashion of the most important Imperial officials to whom he owed more than just a clean outfit. A bitter expression on his unyielding face, a face that would have been familiar to the group had it not been for a tidy goatee, a glass monocle that rested upon its left arch and a complete lack of expressiveness, marked a capstone in the haughtiness that the newcomer’s glacial demeanour inspired. Though all was uncoloured and deathly dull, the silhouette was highlighted in places by a spectral aura of a soft blue hue.
With imperious eyes, the ghost stared at Enrick for a moment, drawing ever closer to the bed. He readjusted the monocle on his eye and watched silently. In his gaze grew an unspeakable disgust for the asleep man, and they were both in this room to know the reason. He gritted his teeth, directing a furious glare at the noble while his clenched fist trembled with contained anger. And suddenly, he yelled out the man’s name at the top of his ethereal lungs, the terrible cry boomed ferociously across the room and wasn’t unlike the voice that belonged to this man when he was alive, empowered mostly by what non-death meant to him, shattering the silence once and for all.
”ENRICK SMITH MAERGLECROW!!!”
Enrick started out of his sheets and hurt his head against one of the posts. He didn’t take in the visitor so much as the shout that scared him out of his nightly rest. Needless to say he was very agitated now. He screamed out blindly at the top of his lungs in a high-pitched voice, standing upon his knees on the mattress, half awake but completely freaked out.
“AaaaAAAAAAaaaaahhh! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! SWEET HOLY SAINT LIGHTS FROM HEAVEN AND ABOVE! The devil! IT IS HERE!! The reaper has come to visit me! The watchers of Gehenna have left their post to track me down! The fallen angels sought to my demise! The messengers bring but ill omens of pain and sorrow! THE-SPIRITS-OF-HELL-CAME-TO-FETCH-MY-SOUL!!! Please have mercy beings of the night! Please don’t take me away to Hades! By all mean! Spare my existence, PLEASE! I IMPLORE YOUR FORGIVENESS! I DIDN’T MEAN TO ANGER YOU! PLEASE LEAVE ME OUT OF THIS! NOT INTO THE PIT IT BURNS! I DON’T DESERVE TO END LIKE THIS! MY SKIN CAN’T TAKE IN THE ABYSAL FLAME! I BESEECH YOU TO MY KNEES! POSTPONE THE-”
The floating apparition remained in place, impassive, plunged in a religious silence, watching with a cold and growingly disdainful expression as the man continued to wave his arms around rapidly and in all directions while screaming like a little girl and pleading for his life amidst two cries of anguish. Out of patience, he sighed and rolled his eyes, running a hand over his forehead with a politely contained exasperation.
“So much for this absurd display! Don’t you put us both to shame more than befits the situation. Ridiculous… Have you not been taught a thing for all these years?!”
“-AND DANCE OVER MY CRUSHED BODY BEFORE THE WYRM TAKES IT AWAAAAY!!! AAAAAHH! SILENCE AND DOOM AWAITS ALL IN-”
The irate ghostly figure grunted and scowled darkly. He threw a severe glare at the panicked dandy, losing his temper at the ridiculousness of it all. His mighty voice thundered in the room and cut through Enrick’s maddening speech.
“ENOUGH!!! Snap out of it! Enrick, you triple dunce of a spoilt brat! IT’S ME!”
“TO THE END OF- uh?”
Enrick froze and opened his eyes wholly, ceasing all motion to pay attention to the actual happenings. His gaze met that of the ghost in no time and he bit back a gasping sound, crisping the sheets in his fists, quite taken aback. His jaw dropped open and his eyes widened not out of fear, but in a mix of surprise, stupefaction and befuddlement, like if he had just seen a… ghost. Only he knew who this ghost was and that made no sense.
A weighing silence fell over the bedroom. The fancy man, quite disturbed but not as much frightened anymore, finally stammered a few words back at the visitor in a shaken voice.
“F-…Father is that you?!!”
“How perspicacious! Of course, you guessed right! Would that be a semblance of sanity in this airhead of yours?” The former duke retorted sarcastically, hovering with high contempt around his confused son, “I would be highly surprised!”
Enrick kept staring agape at his dead relative in disbelief, rubbing his painful head gently. Then came the indignant reply as he found back his composure.
“How… B-but… you’re dead! That’s not-”
“OH SO this is how my memories live on in my son’s wasted mind! SO I am dead and well buried, no more than a rotting corpse to him! SO I shall never return, hence do not deserve the least attention! SO I have no more influence on the modern world, good riddance! SO long grumpy old man!! This is grand. Grand of reverence! I AM ASTOUNDED!”
The outraged apparition paced around back and forth into the air furiously, all in front of a disconcerted Enrick. He landed back straight in front of him, a menacing finger pointed to Enrick’s face. His hand was so close that the dandy could feel the frozen aura emanating from his deceased father. He started back a little.
“Well let me tell you one thing, you insolent punk. I may have passed on to the other side years ago while you were plotting to Zod knows what nonsense, but I still have rights over this place, even now! And I say that this eternal sanctum of lawfulness will NOT be part of the jolly fairy-tale of a conspiracy that you put together to sully the name of your whole ancestry!”
Enrick raised a puzzled brow.
“Uh… What are you… talking about I-”
”SULLY OUR NAME!” The ghost cut harshly.
“Do not play innocent!” He boomed, hovering up close in a gust of wind that lashed coldly at Enrick’s face and gave him the shakes. The Imperial duke stood up on the bed to his full height. He calmed down a little and resumed in a voice smooth of aversion without looking directly at Enrick, instead straight at the wall behind his son.
“You think I did not see through your little schemes? First, you welcome those outsiders whose… bloodline ain’t even asserted.” He hissed the last word with disgust and snorted, wincing bleakly, his fist held tight for a moment. He eventually looked down to his son and spread his arms wide open to designate the room and its surroundings, “Here, in the family abode. How… could you! What do you believe this place is? A guesthouse, no less?!”
“H-Hey! Those people are friends of mine!” Enrick retorted in a vexed tone, knitting his brows, “There’s no need to overreact! I would nev-”
“WHO IS OVERREACTING??!!” The ghost burst out into anger and rose a wrathful fist, about to hit Enrick. The noble stifled a gasp and shielded himself with the sheets he never released even once during this uncommon meeting.
However, no more move was made when the both of them turned their attention to the entrance : the door was opening. This is the scene offered to the visitor’s eye.
Sheila peeks her head into Enrick's room. "Hey, the door was open and you just screamed and..."
Sheila can't possibly miss this most unexpected sight. On Enrick's bed ahead stands a slender spectral figure, his fist raised menacingly at Enrick. Both now stare at the newcomer, one uncertain, the other full of contemtuous confidance.
"Speak of the devil!" The nightly visitor blurts out with a hateful rictus, letting his arm fall back at his side without moving from his spot over the bed a single instant.
Enrick says nothing, releasing the corner of sheet he was holding defensively to hang his head. He lets out a heavy sigh.
"Ohohohoho, who ya gonna call!" Sheila mutters, ejecting the clip in her pistol and slamming in a different one. "Ghost! Busters!"
"So someone wanna explain this?" Sheila asks as she changes the clips on her guns
http://www.voxpvoxd.com/rustysfc/DukeOrick.mp3
"What is this... Ohh! The insolence!" Duke Orick shouts irately, turning back to face Enrick, his ghostly hands designing the gunner, "Is that the manner of friends you have got??"
Enrick opens his mouth to speak but is silenced by an autoritary finger before he can get a word in.
"I don't want to know." He adds dryly before looking back to Sheila with smooth disdain, his right eye twitching as he throws the words at her like shards of glass, "Where are your manners, barbarian... Who are you to barge into the middle of a private conversation without being summoned and properly introduced? Not to mention this... ugh! In my time, this display of rudeness would have gotten you hanged anon!"
"Hey, you'd have to get in line for your turn to try and kill me!" Sheila says with a smile. "'Sides, where I come from, it's perfect manners to go check on a pal when you hear him scream! I'd be a crappy friend if I didn't make sure he was OK!"
"Why you..."
"That being said, I don't think being haunted by an arrogant apparition is exactly the picture of serenity!" Sheila says, pointing at the ghost. "Who the heck are you? Ain't it rude not to introduce yourself?"
Enrick sighs again and speaks up, although dully, "Heh. Sheila... Father. Father-"
"SHUT UP!" This one shouts back at Enrick angrily before he can finish, "And you! This is no way to address me, especially under my own roof! Who do you think you are, you blabbermouthing rabble?!" He snaps back at Sheila, "Do you even have a social rank to redeem your bold words?"
"Hey, you're dead! You don't have a roof anymore!" Sheila retorts. "And I'll have you know my brother is one of the most highest ranking agents in the agency! Chew on that!"
"Watch your manners, cheeky one!" The ghost counters intransigent, hovering down by the bed and readjusting his monocle, "Hmph... What sort of haphazard story is this, anyway? Another one of your ludicrous quirks?" He finishes at Enrick with a nasty grimace.
The noble's jaw drops open in an offended expression, "You're one to talk! You and your 'pastime' down into the dungeons! I never-"
"Don't you dare question my ways, unconscious brat! You're in no position to argue with me!" The ghost cuts out harshly.
"...Now wait, what do you know of my-"
"And don't you make it worse with your hardheaded foulhardiness! You foul... I can't believe you crossed that line! Going so far as to betray your home! Your bloodline!! You are not a Maerglecrow!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sheila says, waving her hands, guns still in them. "What are you yammering about? Betrayal an' stuff?"
Duke Orick throws a dark glance at Sheila and seeing himself unable to stand this questioning from an outsider, he snarls and glares back at Enrick.
"See how your silly decisions enjoin me to make a fool of myself in front of this... ugh!" The ghost gathers the little glacial composure remaining in the bottom of his imperialist soul after this stormy reunion where what he calls 'disrespects to his rank' succeeded one after another. His mean eyes finally set on the ranger. He begins in a slow and controlled voice, yet it sounds as if this cover could burst out anytime.
"Although this is none of your business, it comes to my attention that so too does this little idiot over there deserve a detailed explanation about the consequences of his acts. Fine! I will provide it since this is part of the agreement... an agreement this birdbrain broke single-handedly thanks to this unsuferable whim of his!" His ruthless gaze darts back to Enrick, "WHY DID YOU HAVE TO-" But he interupts himself, calming down again, looking down at the floor, "You got yourself in deep trouble, Enrick. You have no idea!"
"Why are you coming back here now anyway?!" Enrick retorts impatiently, "You just... scared the hell out of me!"
The ghost's eyes roll into their sockets.
"Oh good Lord! Spare me the dramatic display will you? This is not even the third of what you truly deserve for ruining the reputation of your elders' house!" He takes his ethereal sinus between two fingers and hisses, closing his eyes, "And as if it wasn't enough... You reduce seventeen generations' worth of devoted loyal services to our great nation to naught? For that, you have no idea what you're getting into!"
"Then tell me what you're on about already! What's going on that is so wrong to you?"
"Everything about you and your situation is wrong but that's beside the point!... Now here is something I or anyone else will have no control over should you persist onto unadvised ways..." He looks coldly at Enrick, "If I did, I wouldn't stand here presently. I would rest in 'peace' knowing that my only son wouldn't attempt to get in the way of the nation into which his ancestors have sworn allegiance since the root of times!! What are you trying to achieve? The downfall of Destonia?! Is that your new irrational ambition or just another one of your ways to kill time?!"
Enrick seems revolted at the duke's false accusations.
"You've got to be kidding! I mean no harm to thos-"
"And you've got the nerve to lie to my face??! Why you little-"
The uncontrollable gesture is fast. Orick sends his hand across Enrick's face with sheer violence and hatred. This one tries to shield it from the angry ghost's wrath. However the hand, much like the arm that directs it, slams not but slices through Enrick's head causing no harm whatsoever as it exits the nobleman's skull by the other side, creating a chilly gust of wind on the way that gives Enrick shivers.
Orick sighs in disgust and resignation. He knew that any physical contact was impossible. He was so frustrated. He waves an angry finger at Enrick and spits words like venom.
"....If I had the least influence over this side of the mortal coil, I would give you such a correction that your cries would carry to the other side of Aspia!"
Enrick stares blankly and wordlessly at his father, bringing a hand over his cheek, unsure how to take what just happened.
Sheila aims at the specter when he raises a hand at Enrick, but lowers the weapons when it becomes clear that the nobleman hadn't been harmed. "Hey now, ghost dad. Maybe you should specifically say what you're so pissy about instead of just ranting about injustice and betrayal."
Gail, having been invited along by the mansion's proprietor and stirred out of her own nightmares, approaches the noble's chambers still in her white wool nightshirt. "Lord Enrick," she calls out, peering through the flung open door, "Is there..." She stops when the scene becomes fully apparent, leaping into the room while her hands fly to draw her blade...only to find it left behind. The holy knight uncoils herself from her striking position, though she levels a piercing glare at the apparition. "Lord Enrick...what's the meaning of this?"
Enrick's gaze darts to where Gail stands. He looks at her as if he hasn't taken in a single word she said, then back at his father with the same bland expression. Slowly, he raises an incredulous finger at him.
"You're... a... gust of wind...?" His mouth twitches into an attempt at a grin and he suddenly bursts out into laugher, seemingly regaining his overwhelming confidence, "You're a gust of wind! A freaking gust of wind! Hahahahaha! Oh! Oh... That's a good one, daddy. For a moment there I thought you- well, um."
The noble interupts himself as the scornful eyes of his father meet his with a murderous glimmer inside. The ghost of Duke Orick then withstands the paladin's stare without flinching. After a long and mean staring contest, he displays a bitter smile.
"And who, might you be? You seem arguably more educated than this incongruous ape over there."
"Gail Haubrekt," the paladin states, her voice cold and curt while she continues to glare. At Enrick's babbling, she allows herself to glance at the lord...and then turns when she catches what he says. "You're his father," she says more to herself than the spirit, before turning back to the wandering soul of the Enrick family line. "What do you want with him?"
A bullet flies past Orick.
"Whoops. My finger must have slipped," Sheila says, venomously, glaring at the ghost. "Clumsy me."
The ghost's eyes widen at the sound of the shot, his mouth twisting in anger as he glares at Sheila in turn.
"What manner of sorcery is this?!" He booms furiously, "Another move like this and you're in for... for...! Oh, curses!" He hisses in frustration.
"Is that an attempt at humor?" Enrick questions spitefully, "That's unlike you..."
The ghost turns back abruptly at the witty remark, only to offer his son a clenched fist and a deadly glare that would have put him to timorous silence if it wasn't for the fact that he now knew how small a physical threat his father was in his current form. Duke Orick's eyes then narrow at the warrior of light, all form of smile having left the ghost's already austere face.
"I want the ignorant to cease this trickery at once, lest a thousand year old oath catch up to him and hurt him more than I possibly will!" He glares back at Enrick, "Ideally, I would make him keep his word to this great nation that spawns the ages, but that is not possible anymore thanks to his shrewd initiatives!"
Enrick frowns at his father's words.
"Father, you know expressly how I feel about your fanatical patriotism. Keep this kind of speech for the likes of you! I never swore anything to this country and its ruler!"
"'The likes of you'?... Heh, my pour misguided Enrick. Not even a lifetime would be enough for you to grasp all the underlying concepts inherent to an ordered society. There is more to loyalty than personal engagement. Did it never occur to you that not a single one of your ancestors strayed from the path offered to them like you did?"
Enrick shrugs and furrows his brows.
"If they were blind enough to follow a guide hellhound, I don't have to suffer the consequences of their one-track beliefs. You have no right to hold me accountable!"
"Maybe not me..." The duke replies smoothly, "But the system in charge will not let go off your case so easily if you keep up with your insurgent tendencies."
"Hah! The emperor and his goons act too pompous to realise what's getting onto them! For that, they would have to find my implication and this is not happening ever!"
The duke's distasteful grin shows up, his voice smooth with venom.
"But I never said it was up to the Emperor to bring a fair punishment on your head, Enrick. There are higher proceedings to deal with traitors to the crown..."
Enrick finds himself at a loss for an answer, staring at his father cluelessly.
"You should know that by now! You're the last of the Maerglecrows!"
Rubbing the sleep from an eye tiredly, the Doctor peeks his head into the bedchamber of the grand treasure hunter and his eyes widen at the sight before him. "...um..." He swallows, glancing around from shield maiden to gunslinger to fruity pounce to ghostly master uneasily, "...am I interrupting something?" He hesitates, "Uh, a ghastly figure ranting about the last Maerglecrow, a dashing adventuring treasure hunter, and two comely lasses... I guess I am interrupting."
"Who speaks?" The ghost of the former duke inquires haughtily without looking at the speaker.
"How do you know," Gail challenges, leveling a suspicious scowl to the spectral sire. "What makes you sure that your son will be the last of his family?" Her gaze sharpens to an eagle-like glare when a thought hits her. "What will you do to him, if he ignores your wishes?"
"Um... I'm Lord Maerglecrow's physician." The Doctor answers meekly, glancing at Gail questioningly and taking a step into the room, "Do you...have a concern about the Lord's health?"
The duke offers but a derisive snort to this physician, paying him heed no more. He couldn't care less about Enrick's health at the present time. Duke Orick's mouth then windens slowly into a sinister, arrogant grin filled with hints of anger. His attention goes back to the divine strife slayer as the words slither out smoothly.
"The noble Maerglecrows have long ceased existing since the last member worthy of their rank, that is myself, joined the ancestry into the tomb. There is not one of our noble lineage that didn't pass on to the other side whence I was forced out... for dutily matters." The specter glares back at Enrick for the umpteenth time and breathes a trembling sigh of regret, "And he my son, my only son... He is indeed the last of my blood that threads this world. How regretable an end..."
He shakes his head and the grin turns a hateful grimace.
"My only consolation in this? The pact lends me henceforth a chance, although so thin, to rectify his ways, his mistakes... I will never allow my name to become the laughing stock of all Destonia! NEVER!"
He glares back at Gail, his tone now eerily quiet.
"It is not about what I will or would do, little girl. My reach here is... limited. My punishment a mere breeze..." The anger leaves his face to be replaced by the usual icy expression, "My presence is not meant to be one of ill retribution, however I wish. I act here as an envoy of our great ancestry to deal with... a discrepancy, to speak the present truth. The pact has spoken and has its eyes set on you, Enrick. Maybe, just maybe, you want to rethink your allegiances..."
Enrick levels a concerned frown at his father.
"What pact are you still on about..."
The ghost duke shrugs.
"You will find out in due time, unworthy son. Such is the price of your ignorance... And knowledge. Yes, carry on boldly and you will know, although all will become so very dire for you if you do." He retorts ominously, "Just remember one thing : your every move is being judged, your every word gauged... when you face the Noble Empire."
His feet leave the ground as the specter ascends mid-height.
"Also bear in mind, that from now on I will show up to you, yes. Whenever. I. Damn. Please." He then looks and gestures at the crowd "Hereupon, have a truly pleasant night."
Spouting his final line, Duke Orick bows at them drily, mockingly, then spins around and dives through the floor noiselessly like a shooting star, leaving but an awkward silence in his trail.
Enrick is left speechless, his distant eyes set blankly upon the ghost's vanishing spot.
The Doctor looks at the spot where the angry ghost had stood then he glances around the room. "Well... I'm going back to bed." He turns and walks back out the door, presumably off to sleep, "Night all."
Gail glances after Alastor, opening her mouth to speak, but no words come to call him. Instead, she turns back to the spot the apparition had departed through, shaking her head at her own powerlessness before she moves to Enrick's side. A gentle light flows from her body to her hand, which sinks into Enrick's body when she lays her hand on his shoulder. "It's for you protection," the knight explains, frowning at her attempt, "...whatever small amount I can give you." She stands, turning to leave, but stops and looks back to the stunned man. "Good night, Lord Enrick." With that, the maiden leaves, hurrying out of the room as if chasing after someone.
Enrick doesn't speak at once, still looking at the ghost's escape route. Eventually, he stammers back two simple words.
"Good... night."
His broken voice fades out, his gaze not ever leaving that spot. He looks awe struck and preoccupied.
Coventry and Gail pick up the sound of slow footsteps approaching as they're headed back out of the room. Old Archemion arrives from the corridor followed by two members of the staff, the bodyguards.
"Sir Coventry? Lady Gail? What is going on?" He inquires worriedly, "I have heard shouts from over there and thought it safe to seek the guards..."
"Oh, that's just Ms. Sheila..." The Doctor waves his hand dismissively, "I'm not sure why, but she seems to have calmed down now." He pauses long enough to frown, "...and I told you, Dr. Coventry, I'm not a noble." He smiles, "I wouldn't want to be beheaded for a slip of the tongue."
Gail gives the Doctor a strange look...before she turns to the house service before her. "Yes...it was Sheila. She had had a nightmare, and we...were trying to wake her up and calm her down, to give the house some peace. That was all."
The Doctor frowns fretfully at the maiden's look, whispering to her in an airy language. More whining than whisper.
The maiden tilts her head at the whining of her companion, before looking down at her state of dress, and shaking her head, replying in the same language.
The Doctor nods his head in firm agreement, speaking in commonly abruptly, "Though, I shouldn't think that your dress would make such a difference, it's bound to happen hastily regardless."
The butler gives the two a puzzled look, then sighs.
"What a relief... His Lordship and the guests are not in danger then. For a moment, I believed as though something ill happened."
---
"Er..." Sheila seems at a loss for words. "Ah... You OK?"
Deep in thought, Enrick seems not to hear her at all. In appearance only however as he finally offers her an affirmative nod, although weak.
"Don't worry, I'll be ok. This brings back wistful memories is all." He brings a hand to his forehand wearily and sighs, "Father is still the same. This shouldn't get to me."
Sheila frowns at this. "Yeah... What about safety though? You going to be OK here? Should I grab the Doc or Johann and drag him back here to slap down some wards?"
"No..." The noble answers in a wavering voice, "No." He adds with more certainty, shaking his head, "If half of what he said is true, then this place... this whole place can suffer no threat from outsiders, that is unwanted visitors with intents detrimental to a 'honest' Imperial. And he..." He laughs bitterly, "He can't do a thing to me... or anyone. He said it himself." He looks at the fireplace, "Heh. I didn't think this tale would turn out to be true... What a twist."
TheUnknownMarine: M Night Shyamalan appears.
TheUnknownMarine: "WHAT A TWEEST"
"Tale?" Sheila asks.
Enrick turns his head at Sheila.
"It's about the history of this place I still call my home. It's said to be warded against a great deal of intrusions and keeps at bay all that weren't invited to enter should they represent a threat against the domain of the Maerglecrows. The legend is quite old indeed... I remember it from mother." He frowns at the thought, "I never gave much credit to this story, so I hired the guards... I don't know who or what originated this ward, if it exists. How very bizarre."
"Huh..." Sheila says, tapping her foot. "Ya should really look into that now, I guess. Anything I can do? Otherwise I guess I'll go back to bed."
Enrick shakes his head.
"I'll try to find some sleep myself." He replies with a tired smile, "The lot of you might as well do the same before dawn breaks. Oh dear, what a night."
"Gotcha," Sheila says with a nod, leaving the room and closing the door. "Sweet dreams."
"Likewise!" Enrick finishes with the little good-will he could muster after this, waving a hand at her before her face vanishes behind the door, after what he gazes around the room in search for something. His eyes eventually land square upon the desired item : the dusty portrait of this unyelding man who once ruled the house, set carelessly near the corner of the room against a chest of drawers, by the window.
"Crafty old fool..." He thinks shallowly, staring at the face with the same disdain that he didn't feel.
"No Enrick. You are the fool." The familiar cold voice retorts inside his head.
Enrick starts a little and blinks, frowning at the portrait. Did he really hear a voice? Be that as it may, he shrugs and gives it no more thought, calling it quit for the night.
Sheila is handing out the treasure she looted like so.
GDO: 3,800 PP, 3 violet garnets and 1 black pearl, each worth 500 gp. Total value: 40K
Doc: 2 spinels worth 100 gp each. 1 Pearl of Power (6th level, 2 spells)
Johann: 1 Pearl of Power (8th level)
Michael: one star ruby worth 1000 gp found
Enrick: 1 agate worth 10 gp, 1 bloodstone worth 50 gp. 1 black pearl, worth 500 gp
1 Ring of Spell Turning is open for the Rangers.))
((One action remaining to be done in Destonia. More later.))

Posted by: Knight_019 Sun May 25, 2008 12:00 pm
((SPACER OF INFINITE VERISIMILITUDE))

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Sun May 25, 2008 12:02 pm
((ENRICK'S MASTERFUL MINIADVENTURE: BOKEN'S RESCUE!)) After an undetermined period of time, Enrick reaches the Hobbit Village. There he begins gathering info and learns the following: "An old adventurer by the name of Boken came through here... He said he was being chased by some nasty types in robes, and sure enough shortly after he arrived, some robed guys started snooping around! Boken went off to hide in some caves nearby, I hope he's OK!"
"The fairy of Gudo hasn't been around much lately, neither in the valley or the towns. I wonder what she's up to now?"
"Welcome to Hobbit Village! This town is famous for the well of vigor. Try drinking from it. You'll like the result!"
"The well in the Hobbit Village has given forth magical water for ages. It contains the power to heal even the most stubborn of afflictions..."
"You may drink as much water from the well as you like, but our medicine costs gold. In fact, the Hobbit Medicine costs 100 gold, to be exact. Would you care for some?"
"I heard there was a great battle down in the Fairy Wood! Supposedly the Chaos Cult was utterly defeated by a huge band of adventurers!"
"Rumor has it that the Devil Army on Grans was soundly defeated by Galam thanks to the help of a small band of heroes and supposedly Max himself!"
"Rumors of all sorts are flying around now! I've been hearing about sightings of long dead heroes, sightings of long lost heroes, mysterious figures, bands of new heroes, bands of old heroes rebanding, ancient menances stirring, ancient hates warring... Gah! I've been one for gossip, but I just can't keep up anymore!"
Preparing for his new destination, the nobleman buys one vial of Hobbit Medicine for 100 gold pieces and set off to the caves our intrepid explorer supposedly went. He explores the area around town for a good two hours before he finds a series of caves that looks like they might be the ones he's after.
Making his way inside, the heroic adventurer hears not a single noise but eventually comes to notice a group of men in robe standing out in the deeper caves. Concealing himself from sight with a spell, he decides to follow after them, hovering silently in the air thanks to his tabard's power.
The five men in robes slink deeper and deeper into the caves, trying their best to be silent.
Enrick follows after them, he too trying remain unnoticed.
After a short walk, the five men enter a large chamber in the cave, a dead end. Enrick doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Then one of them shouts, "There he is!"
As he points towards a section of the cave, a figure in black and green bursts from the shadows, racing for the opening. As he moves, he throws a ceramic sphere at the five men in robes that explodes in a blinding flash and deafening roar. Enrick is deafened by the sound, but manages to close his eyes in time. The five men immediately begin chanting as the other man tries to race past them. Two miscast their spells, unable to speak properly with blasted eardrums. The other three shoot streams of lightning at the would-be grenadier.
The running man shouts with panic as he dodges one bolt, then ducks under the other, only to be fried by the third, his hair shooting straight out as he's hit. Despite the hit, he manages to keep standing.
Without hesitation, Enrick breaks from hiding and swoops in on the nearest of the five spellcasters rapier in hand. He lines a quick stab, then three others.
Enrick leaps forward, easily impaling one of the robed men with his rapier again and again. The man slumps over with a groan. The other mages turn with a fright and swiftly cast another trio of lightning bolts at him. Enrick skillfully dodges from each bolt, leaving the mages with stunned expressions on their faces, even as a bomb blows up among them.
"Thanks for the help! The name's Boken!" Boken nods to Enrick as he falls back behind him.
"My pleasure!" Enrick replies back to the adventurer as he happily stabs deaf people, "Why are these guys after you anyway?"
Working his rapier in quick, precise motions, Enrick slays another two of the mages with astounding speed.
"Oh the usual, saw some things I shouldn't have," Boken says with a nod.
"We surrender!" the last two mages say, dropping to kneel in the ground.
"They don't offer much resistance though." Enrick comments in reply, sheathing his rapier back with a satisfied grin, and looks at the remaining mages, "Now you two, tell me... How is it that you were so stubborn that you had to go so far as to track down a finest member of the adventuring brotherhood to the bleakest parts of Odegan kingdom?"
"He stumbled on one of our surveys of the Underground Marsh," one of the mages says. "We thought he was just some random peasant at first, then when we told our boss he threw a fit and told us to track him down!"
"And who might your boss be I wonder?" Enrick asks him.
"Pr... Priest Hedot," one mage whispers.
"Oh, is that so?" Enrick turns slowly to Boken and bursts out laughing, "Hahahahaha! You got yourself an entire order on the back for bumping into a few one of their guys?? Admirable!" He tilts his head aside and joins his hands, "Oh my... Did you figure the reasons for your sudden increase in popularity among these charming individuals by any chance? Or should I also ask this directly to the relevant faction?"
"Huh?" Boken asks, blinking.
"Nevermind." Enrick giggles and turns to the mages, "Where can I find this Hedot fellow?"
"He's gone," one of the mages gulped. "We heard that some of the adventurers that killed Naerth were heading this way... Hedot decided to leave while the going was good," the mage says.
"Oh, too bad. Any clue on the man's next destination perhaps?"
The two men shake their heads.
"*sigh* Ah well. Either way, you're coming with me. Trust me, you will be infinitely better off than the lads on the ground. And Boken?"
"Yes?" Boken asks
The noble grabs the vial of Hobbit Medicine from his bag and hands it over to the explorer.
"I'm sure you could go for some of this after such a... stormy trial. *chuckle*"
"Hey, thanks!" Boken says as he takes the medicine and drinks it down, his wounds healing. "I feel a world better now!"
The sound of chanting hits Enrick's ears, and when he turns towards the two mages, he sees them vanish from sight.
"Umm... so rude." He shrugs at the mages' disappearance, "Well I guess that much was predictable. One does not simply cage a mage in a dank cave." He turns to Boken, "Let's get out of here. It's brighter outside to discuss."
"Thanks for the medicine and the rescue!" Boken says as they leave. "Who are you, anyway?"
"Enrick van Maerglecrow of course!" The fancy noble replies, "Treasure hunter and lively explorer at your service! And you're Boken, right? Whatever has drawn the Ur's kind favors upon you?"
"Well, I said I'd settle down, but I just couldn't manage it..." Boken says with a frown. "The wanderlust was too strong. So I started travelling again. Came to Odegan, poked around the castle... And I stumbled on a whole bunch of robed people trying to sneak around the castle. Next thing I know they were coming after me!" Boken says with a shrug. "Guess they were afraid of being found out."
"When was that if you don't mind me asking?"
"A few days ago," Boken says with a nod.
"Hmm well... Needless to say you haven't exactly attracted the friendliest bunch around... Which brings me to ask, what are you gonna do now? Should you cross their path again or not, they'll likely be restless."
"Ah, that's a good point," Boken says, scratching his head. "I'm used to handling bandits and wild critters, but assassins? That's a new one on me..."
"Indeed a problem, but..." A shrewd grin forms on his face as an idea comes up in the noble's mind. "Ah, of course, that's it!" He exclaims, "I might have a solution for you if you're taker."
"Well, what is it?" Boken asks.
The swordsman folds his arms and looks at him.
"Ever visited the land of Cypress?"
"Just a few months ago, in fact!" Boken says with a nod. "Shame about the Cult, but good that it was put down!"
"A nice land isn't it? Well there is a fort there where I and my other comrades take up residence between two adventures. This is easily the safest route for you until the land is cleared of all Ur presence which we fight actively these days." He grins, "Naturally, you're still welcome there anytime should you not accept at once and change your mind later, but I think my offer is worth considering."
"Well..." Boken says, rubbing his chin. "I'd have to check it out first, but sounds good... Why so generous, though?"
"For the same reason I followed you up to these caves and disposed of those pesky prigs: out of pure sympathy for a fellow adventurer of the wilderness! As a famed treasure hunter, I always try to lend assistance to those of my calibre. It is only normal to help each other at times. Not to mention I highly despise the Ur and their ways with divinehood."
"Ah! Great!" Boken says with a smile. "Well, all right, we'll see how it works out. I've travelled the whole world so if you ever need to know anything about a place, you can talk to me! The least I can do!"
((BOKEN the MASTER SCOUT has joined the SHYNEE FORSE
Enrick earns 600 exp.))

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Thu Jun 05, 2008 11:48 pm
As of June 5th, these are the RP XP totals. Sorry, still haven't gotten the new system ready yet, but it should be ready relatively soon. Alex 2000 Hal 200 Laeralas 5200 Sophie 1400
Johann 1000
Dagron 3000
Enrick 6000
Talacre 3600
Eve 2400
Pantherath 600
Villetta 400
Viki 3000
Maria 200
Melissa 800
Michael 2000
Coventry 4000
Kria 400
Sorel 2200
Tanis 600
Gail 3600
Mahler 3200
Ombligo 1800
Graigus 200
Dam 2000
Cedric 1200
Zook 800
Merkass 800
Aurik 1000
Isyndel 600
Telanna 2000

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Fri Jun 06, 2008 9:37 am
((LEVEL UP!)) http://beaugran.club.fr/cd/premium/Jingle%207.mp3 Enrick is now level 18! Swashbuckler 3/ Sorcerer 6/ Dashing Swordsman 9 +9 HP!
+1 BAB! (+15/+10/+5)
+1 FORT!
+1 WILL!
Learned a new Class Feature: Rapier Wit!!!
Learned a new Feat: Tempting Fate!
+1 Bluff!
+1 Tumble!
+5 Jump!

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Fri Jun 13, 2008 1:32 am
The prison cell is fairly comfortable as far as prison cells go. A no-nonsense cot with a mattress of straw, a privy behind a privacy shade, and for decoration, the walls where covered in crawling runes that dispelled magic. Sulia stood leaning against the far wall of her cell, staring impassively at the door.
The cell door is made of steel bars, facing the stone hallway that makes up half the brig. The brig door opens to admit Kyoji, entering the hall with a steaming bowl of stew. Wordlessly, the ninja approaches and slides the bowl with wooden spoon
Sulia raises her brows and looks down at the food and then back at Kyoji. "My questioning will be rigorous then?"
"Perhaps," Kyoji replies. "It depends greatly on your definition of the word."
"Mysteriously vague for no good reason?" Sulia replies.
"Not at all," Kyoji replies. "People's definitions for each word can vary greatly, and information can be very imprecise in the parting due to that. What did you mean by rigorous?"
"Why do you want to know?" Asks Sulia suspiciously.
"Because I can't answer your question without knowing what you meant," Kyoji says. "It also would serve to illustrate a point."
"Well, last I checked Rigorous is used to mean intensive and or exhausting." Sulia smirked, waving an arm dismissively.
"It has many connotations and can be used to imply a number of things as well," Kyoji says, quietly. "Mentally rigorous perhaps. Physically, probably not. If you meant to imply torture, a connotative meaning of the word when used with questioning, then no. Many meaning, one word," Kyoji finishes.
"Why aren't you in a school room?" Sulia chuckled. "Mentally rigorous? I do enjoy a good riddle."
"Because there's a war to be fought," Kyoji replies. "Perhaps I will pass down my knowledge when more peaceable times arrive."
"Well, if you have plans to be a teacher, it better be soon. After all, you're all reaching the end of your tether."
"Oh?" Kyoji asks.
"Indeed." Sulia answers back. "So, anything exciting happen while I was gone...not that you'd all notice. Aheh."
"We noticed," Kyoji replies.
"Yes, Amelios does tend towards the theatrical entrances. How is Yeesha? Anyone bothered to fix her yet?"
"I mean, we noticed when you left. But searching for you yielded little result," Kyoji replies. "Yeesha has not been healed yet, no."
"I figured so. Slaughter seems the top activity in both camps these days...Cedric gone mad yet?" Sulia pressed, a big grin of amusement on her face.
"Despite your new patron's best efforts, no he has not," Kyoji replies. "And soon, neither shall you, I think."
"Patron? Oh Kyoji, I don't know how your soon to be extinguished people say things, but he's my husband. Well, the whole till death do us part thing is a bit obscure now..." Sulia mused. "And you thought that was his best effort? He was just bored."
Kyoji does a double take. "Shailtor is your husband now?!"
Sulia bursts into laughter, finding the thought amusing. "Ah. I misunderstood. My apologies. But you're wrong too. My patron is not Shailtor."
"Erebeus then..." Kyoji says. "The third is dead."
"Yes. They were quite upset about that. The girl should watch out."
"Gail?" Kyoji asks with a grin beneath his mask. "Given how she dealt with the last foe to come after her... I think she'll be fine."
"Well then, ignore my good advice. Try to help people and you get put in a cell. Whatever is the world coming to?" Sulia rolled her eyes.
"Oh, I hardly think you were trying to help us," Kyoji says with a frown. "Not that it matters. We'll help you regardless."
"Really? I think death would be a welcome relief considering..." Sulia sighed sadly, shaking her head.
"What?" Kyoji asks.
"What what?" Asks Sulia in response.
"Death would be a relief considering what?"
"What's planned for you all by the Patron of my husband." Sulia says solemnly.
Kyoji is quiet for a while. "Some of us have very little left. There is little more he can possibly do."
"You underestimate the Lord of the Twisted Web then." Sulia nods again, flexing her powerful wings thoughtfully. "You know though, I think you'll beat him. Not Erebeus though. But Shailtor? Yeah...they have a chance at that. Futile in the end however."
"It is not given to mortal eyes to know if their struggles be futile or not," Kyoji replies, neutrally. "We will try all the same. We have little recourse but to do so."
"That's a funny thing to say. You think the gods have a clue if you're gonna win?" Sulia snorts. "I'd start to worry when you have to save the very people you thought infalliable."
"I never said they were infallible," Kyoji says with a slight smile.
"Well, they certainly aren't mortal..." Sulia smiled back.
"Many things aren't," Kyoji says. "I agree with you on one point, though."
"That you can beat Shailtor? Mmm, confidence is a good emotion. He likes playing with that. Love is also up there." Sulia tilted her head to one side. "You've not complimented me you know."
Kyoji raises an eyebrow at Sulia's reply. "On what? Your stylish new look?"
"Is it? I care much more about the functionality of it. Never been one for looks..." Sulia shrugged.
"Hm. What then?" Kyoji asks.
"Oh nevermind. You always were a slow one...fall out of any trees lately?"
"How did you..." Kyoji says, narrowing his eyes. "How do you know about that?"
"Yes. It was never a popular joke between the company. At all. Ever." Sulia giggled.
Kyoji looks at Sulia evenly. "A well played attempt, but I won't fall for it I don't know how you found out, but she wouldn't tell anyone," Kyoji says, quietly."You must've used magic."
"...You mean you didn't know we were friends?" Sulia laughed. "Men are so simple minded!"
"She still wouldn't have told you, it was a secret," Kyoji says, quietly.
"Men and woman work differently. It's up to you, I mean...it's kind of a silly thing, not 'I murdered my parents and ran away from home.' You slipped. We all do. It's ok to do s-" Sulai rolled her eyes. "There I go, I'm not not your mother, better stop sounding like it."
"That doesn't matter. It was a secret. She would not have told anybody," Kyoji says, quietly. "What sort of secret it was, doesn't matter."
"Is your black and white world fun?" Asks Sulia incredulously.
Kyoji is silent. "It's not going to work."
Sulia shut her eyes, obviously disgruntled. "ARGH. I wasn't even trying to do anything! You're as bad as Cedric and Amelios! Second guessing everything. I retract the statement. I used my dark evil magical powers. Happy? For the love of...." She sighs, shaking her head. "Can we move on from this? As delightful as it is to verbally run into a brick wall..."
"Amelios?" Kyoji asks, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes. Him and Cedric are paranoid fellows. They both always where I think, but well. War does things to people no?" She smiled.
"If it didn't, your hair would be a different color," Kyoji remarks, dryly. "Not to mention the skin."
"Oh well, purple as a colour isn't too bad." Sulia shrugged, looking down at her arms. "I don't burn anymore at least."
Kyoji nods. "Well, charming as this was, I've got to be getting back. Enjoy your meal, I'll be back to pick up the dishes in a little while."
"Well, It's not your fault you're not good with people. Don't let it worry you. Have fun...with whatever? I don't know what you're doing. But...death to your enemies and glory to your friends." Sulia smiles innocently, and waves at Kyoji.
"I'd return the sentiment were we not on different sides of the war," Kyoji says with a wave. "So simply, farewell."
"You'd think that." Sulia grins. "Farewell."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyoji asks with a frown.
"Hmm? I believe you said farewell. Goodbye Kyoji." Sulia smiles, and turns away from the ninja with her food.

Posted by: Alpha Wed Jun 18, 2008 10:10 am
*chime* Talacre is now level 18 HP increased by 14! BAB increased by 1! Reflex increased by 1!
Will increased by 1!
Fast movement increased by 5'!
Gained 1 skill point in Perform [Dance], Jump, Tumble!
Gained 5 skill points in Listen!
Gained the Riposte feat (If you use combat expertise to increase your AC, the first opponent to attack and miss you for that round provokes an attack of opportunity from you)
((He might chance his feat if I find something I like more))

Posted by: Kaihaku Thu Jun 19, 2008 1:05 pm
The foothills of the Destonian Empire just south of Enrich once belonged to a small, but prosperous kingdom. This kingdom was reknowned for its peaceable populace, fertile farmland, and rich mines near the mountains. For centuries they had known only peace, the occasional adventurer protecting them from the occasional monster or mad wizard.
It was no doubt the combination of rich natural resource and a soft, un-warlike populace that led to the Destonian Empire annexing it. The lands fell to the Imperial Army in less than a month's time, the king and queen publicly beheaded to further cow the populace into submission. Of the kingdom's young princess, it was said she went missing, but whether dead by Imperial agents or in hiding by her own will, none could say.
It is a small cottage, a house no more than six rooms and a small farm surrounding that, to which Ignatius leads the others. The trip to this place takes a full day of magically boosted hiking from Enrich, teleportation within the borders of the Empire being... unwise with the current situation. Teleportation back to the friendly kingdom should not be an issue, though.
The half vandal stares at the lone house surrounded by fields and hills for a long while.
"So, what was the name of this land?" The Doctor looks around the peaceful farmland, "Before all of this..."
"It used to be called Halcyon," Ignatius says, quietly. "I guess they thought if they named it that, it would stay that way..."
"How long has it been?"
"Since I've been here?" Ignatius asks. "A year..."
Sorel's eyes sweep over the verdant landscape. There is a sense of peacefulness to this place that war and empire had not yet touched. He sighs, breathing it in deeply, before looking over at Ignatius.
"This is where you grew up?"
Lunauga squints, shielding his large, luminous eyes from the sunlight.
"It's so bright out..." he says. "Where do we go now?"
Gail gazes out at the undisturbed picture of pastoral bliss, the maiden taking in the sun-kissed plains in silence. The sight almost causes her to be left behind, but she regains her senses at the voices of her companions, hustling to catch up with the group already gathered around Ignatius's home.
"Yeah... This is where I grew up..." Ignatius says, looking around at the fields, then his eyes settle on the house. "Now... Now we just have to knock."
Ignatius leads the others to the modest house and hesitantly, he knocks on the door. After a few minutes pause, the door opens to reveal an attractive woman in her mid to late thirties in winter clothes. Past her, the group can see a combination kitchen/living room with a single wooden table and a fireplace with an inviting fire crackling in it. She looks over the group with a raised eyebrow, leaning against the door frame.
: "Oh? What have we here? Quite the band to visit a lone woman in the middle of a..." she stops abruptly as her eyes settle on Ignatius. "...Ignatius?"
"He... Hello mom," Ignatius says, quietly, looking at the floor.
Sorel bows his head silently, waiting for the meeting to resolve.
Lunauga hops up behind Ignatius. He leans down, his face occupying much of the doorway behind the half-Vandal. "Wow! Your mother's really pretty!"
The Doctor glances at the owl, suppressing a chuckle.
Gail grins at the owl's antics, but it disappears when she looks to the scene before them. Her hands clasp together, and she finds it difficult to resist wringing them in anticipation.
For a long moment, the woman just stares at her son.
: "You..." she begins. "Have been late for dinner the past three hundred and sixty five days... Absent in fact."
She opens the door wider, revealing a pot of stew over the fire you saw before.
: "You might as well not be late for this one, nor your friends," Lisa says, looking back to the group. "And who might they be? You've forgotten introductions. Have we dropped our etiquette during our long adventure?"
"Moooom," Ignatius whines. Then he sighes, pointing a clawed hand to each of the force in turn. "This is Doc Coventry, this is Sorel, his pet owl Lunauga, the paladin Gail Haubrekt, and that's Kria Krystalpaw," Ignatius turns to the others. "This is Lisa of Halcyon, my mother, and retired paladin."
: "Coventry..." Lisa murmurs, looking over the Doctor. "You look somewhat familiar..." Lisa shakes her head. "No matter. Come in, eat. Tell me all about your wondrous adventures, oh son of mine," Lisa says with a slight smile, turning to the others and pointing to the table. "Take a seat, please. I'll serve dinner in a moment, if you don't mind stew with preserved beef and spring water to drink."
Lunauga pecks the Doctor on the shoulder. "You know Ignatius's mom? Wow! That's neat!"
"No, no... I get that a lot." The Doctor laughs easily, rubbing his head with a rueful grin, "I must have a common face or something."
Gail bows at her introduction. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Halcyon."
Sorel bows deeply. "I would be honored."
((Diplomacy 41))
"Well, be honored then," Lisa says with a smile, gesturing towards the seats as she begins to take out bowls and spoons from a cabinet.
The interior of the home is warm and cheerful, though rather spartan in dector. Indeed, there are no decorations or mementos anywhere, save for a gleaming and well crafted sword above the mantle that seems almost to glow with inner light.
Sorel nods, taking a seat at the table. He leans his staff against the near wall. "All stocked for the winter, then?"
Lunauga sticks his head inside the door, finding to his dismay that the rest of his body is too large to enter. "I'll... uh... I'll go keep watch!" Lunauga says, pulling his head out and puffing out his chest feathers. "You can count on me, Ignatius's mom!"
Lisa smiles at Lunauga.
: "If you like, I can put a dish of stew outside for you as well... unless you'd prefer just meat?" Lisa asks the giant owl. She turns back to Sorel. "Yes, the larder is quite full. More than enough to last for the winter especially given that it appears the stores need only supply one this year."
The Doctor stands near the doorway for a long moment, listening to the conversation unfold but looking at the sole decoration in the cottage. Finally, his eyes narrow and he turns away, stepping over to the table and taking a seat.
"What else do you put in your stew? There aren't any vegetables in it, are there? Vegetables don't agree with me. I--" Lunauga notices Sorel giving him a very stern look. "I don't mind either way, Ignatius's mom! I bet the stew is great!"
Sorel clears his throat politely, running his fingers across the wooden table with idle movements.
Gail sits down gloomily.
Ignatius pulls up a seat as Lisa pulls a few strips of dried meat from a cabinet and piles them onto a plate, setting them outside for the giant owl. That done, she begins to place bowls and spoons out for everyone.
: "So tell me a little about yourselves, what grand adventure did my Ignatius get sucked into when he left to seek his fortune?" Lisa asks while putting down the simple ceramic bowls and wooden spoons.
"He wants us to help him kill Galm, but we aren't entirely convinced just yet." The Doctor replies as he tastes the soup, "Hmmm... This is really good, what spices did you use?"
Gail stares at the Doctor and his outburst, her first reaction to admonish him...before she realizes that it would be more cruel to keep things from this woman. "He's been aiding in our fight against the Cult of Strife...and their masters. He was there with us when we destroyed Xadoss." She pauses for a moment. "Your son...he's been a great help to us."
Lisa puts down the final bowl and sighs heavily, glaring at Ignatius.
: "You're nowhere near the strength you need to be to beat Galm, Ignatius. Haven't I drilled that into you enough?" Lisa says.
"But mom, with help I-"
: "Can what? Die after a slightly more prolonged battle? You KNOW what will happen, you KNOW what I've told you!" Lisa says, her volume rising. "Remember Uncle Basso? Remember how strong he was? Galm reduced him to a quivering heap of dragonman fear hardly without trying. Do you think you're stronger than he is?"
"No, but..." Ignatius begins, Lisa holds up a hand.
: "Again, etiquette. Wait until I am done, then you can speak your peace and I will but listen," Lisa says. "I will not say the idea of gathering a force to defeat Galm is not without merit, indeed it may be the only way to cast him down, but you are not nearly prepared for such an ordeal! You're only thirteen years old, Ignatius!"
"I heard Arthur started adventuring when he was 16..." Ignatius replies, quietly.
: "Once more, etiquette. If you can't control your urge to speak, can you hope to control yourself in a battle?" Lisa returns, picking up Sorel's glass and bringing it to a barrel of water nearby. Turning a spig, she fills the glass and returns it to him, then goes to get Coventry's. "And yes he did. As did I, though I was rather forced into it. But perhaps three more years of training, of preparation can make all the difference. Do you think no one has tried to slay Galm before? You have your whole life in front of you, that's a lifetime to prepare, or a lifetime to put aside this notion of slaying the Father Vandal. If you do face him, it will be all or nothing, and I will not have my son wagering his life for such poor odds. Now then, I am done."
"Not such poor odds," Ignatius replies as Lisa fills and puts down Coventry's glass. "I'm... Mom, I'm part of a Shining Force now! We've got the Dragonslayer Max on our side! People from Cypress, from Rune, from West Parmecia, from East Parmecia... even from other worlds!" Ignatius nods. "Not only that, but I'm sure I can track down Uncle Basso, and that Julian guy, anyone that's ever been hurt by... by Galm. When it's all over, we'll crush him!"
: "Are you done?" Lisa asks, taking Gail's glass and going to fill it. Ignatius nods. Lisa sighs as she begins to fill Gail's glass with fresh spring water. "Son, do you really think no one has ever had the same idea? A thousand years Galm has exited, or more! Countless people, small armies even, have tried to end his life. Not one has yet succeeded. Indeed," Lisa continues, setting down Gail's glass and taking Ignatius'. "The Julian you speak of, I've heard word of him. He came the closest yet..." Lisa fills the glass and hands it to Ignatius, looking him steadily in the eye. "But he and his entire force, twelve soldiers each a hero like Uncle Basso, each with tremendous skill and power... Even they could only scratch the First Vandal."
Lisa sighs, filling up Kria's glass and then her own, sitting down wearily.
: "I... I understand how the need for vengeance can burn. Moreso than you think, even though you think you know," Lisa says, quietly. "But you can't let it cloud your judgment, or all will be lost."
Mother and son are then silent for a long while.
: "Though..." Lisa says with a small smile. "I'm proud to hear that you've been a help to a worthy cause."
"So, what exactly does a paladin have to do in order to retire?" The Doctor asks after waiting for a long moment for someone, anyone, to speak, "There's a friend of mine convinced that paladins have to die on the job... Max seems to hold that opinion too, is it a self-fulfilling prophecy?"
Gail gives a glance to the lone sword on the mantle at the Doctor's words, her face falling at how it sat, as if waiting to be used. Her eyes then return to the table, looking to Lisa for a moment before she continues with the meal in front of her, waiting for the ex-paladin's reply.
: "Paladins are not bound to serve indefinately," Lisa says. "We can choose to retire at any time if we feel that our sinews, skills, or nerves are no longer fit for the duty neccesary, or if other duties we feel more important take priority. Some merely never feel that their duty is done."
Ignatius looks away as Lisa responds to the Doctor. Lisa turns to Gail.
: "I see you noticed my old sword, Revenger," Lisa says, a small smile, almost sad, spreads across her face. "It was one of my closest friends for many a year back when I was crusading across the countryside in search of wrongs to right. Many was the time that sword came between a monster and its victim. Now it sits in a countryside home all day," Lisa chuckles. "Much like it's owner I suppose. The spices were a chopped blend of various herbs that grow around here, by the way."
Gail looks up at Lisa, meeting her eyes while she speaks. "It's lived a noble existence...much like it's owner. Perhaps a rest is well deserved?" The paladin shows a small smile at this, before she turns to the weapon and it disappears. "I apologize if I shouldn't ask, but...why is it your only decoration?"
"Rest is all well and good, but to do nothing but rest is sloth," Lisa says with a frown as she looks at the sword. "It's not a decoration. I keep her as sharp as the day she was made. It looks like ornamentation, but if raiders come, they'll be in for a sore surprise." Lisa sighs. "There are little other decorations in case we have to flee suddenly. The Empire wouldn't take kindly to a pair of insurrection sympathizers, and certain townspeople don't take kindly to half Vandals."
Gail gazes at the ex-soldier, a pained frown on her face. "Then...you aren't really retired, are you? When you always have to be ready, lest something happen that needs you to be prepared for it..." The angel born falls silent, turning to stare at the sword once more. "It seems unjust to me that one needs a sword by their side with when they have earned their peace." Gail's eyes continue the stare a moment longer, before she glances to the woman and sighs. "I'm sorry...It was wrong of me to say that."
Lisa shakes her head. "No more so wrong than any that speak their mind," Lisa says. "I suppose by your logic I'm only semi-retired. It's not as bad as you make it out to be, though."
"I suppose you're right," Gail decides, a warm smile spreading on her face. "You had the time to raise your son here, after all." She pauses, glancing at the room the group resided in before settling on the still-open door and what it showed. Her voice grows quiet when she continues. "And you have such a beautiful home..."
Lisa chuckles. "It's a modest cottage, not much more. The house is average at best, but that's not what you meant, was it? The land itself? Yes, I'd agree there," Lisa says, looking over the vast fields. "Halcyon... The name fit the country for a very long time."
Gail remains quiet, her only response a slow nod, while she watched the sun's warmth shine upon the golden fields.
Kria had been quiet, and giggled suddenly. Shrugging, she looked at Lisa. "Well, so far we've visited gods, slain like, big nasty people strong as gods...and like, I think you're underestimating Iggy...like, lots. Of course, if you come hang at our Headquarters, I'm sure you'd be able to see that. And keep an eye on him. Like, it could be lonely around here."
She smiles wistfully, brushing her long hair out of her eyes as she looks from Ignatius to Lisa, eyes twinkling. "Family should stick together."
Lisa raises an eyebrow.
: "Just what are you suggesting?" Lisa asks.
"Like, come with us! Help us out. After all, that way you can train Iggy and make sure he doesn't charge headlong into trouble! I've been doing it a bit, but ya know...it's getting harder to do. Backup is nice." Kria sniggered to herself, looking sidelong at Ignatius.
"I... I'm not that bad," Ignatius protests as Lisa puts a hand to her chin.
"You want me to accompany you on your journey?" Lisa asks, frowning. "My fighting skills are not even close to what they used to be, it shames me to say... The days of me challenging Vandals are past."
geddis the hero: "Drink your water sweetie." Kria cackled a little as she said this.
"So? You still have all your experience, doncha? You still know a trick or two? Like do the whole mentor thing and teach the next generation!"
Lisa tents her fingers. "You want me to train you? I'm afraid I wouldn't be a very good teacher unless you have a number of paladins or swordmasters with you."
Kria grinned. "I like swords. A lot of us use them as well, and I know Gail here is both...She's the one that struck down Xadoss anyhow." And Kria shook her head. "And I kinda doubt that you can't teach anything else, or be useful. 'Sides, you get to be closer to Iggy. Families need each other, so I hear these days anyway."
"Well closeness can hardly be helped if one of the family runs away in the middle of the night," Lisa says, dryly.
Ignatius squirms, uncomfortably.
Kria giggles. "You know how kids are."
Ignatius' face turns red.
"That is truth if nothing else," Lisa replies. "I suppose if you have need of a trainer, I can consent to travel with you. You'll be able to provide supplies for one more, I take it?"
"Should be able to easily, yeah! Oh." Kria grins sheepishly, turning to Sorel. "Like, that ok?" She turns back to Lisa, a big smile on her face. "Can't wait! Yeah! I can watch Iggy and steal his good moves and then get nice sword ones off you!" Kria's arm glowed purple as she patted her swordhilt. "Like, yay!"
Lisa grins a little. "You're a bit of a free spirit, aren't you?"
"All over the place, is how I see myself personally! Makes for fun! The other warlocks think I'm a bit crazy to like, use a sword, but eh. I likey! And you're very relaxed for a retired Paladin." Kria grins back.
Lisa raises an eyebrow. "What did you expect?"
"well, like I see Gail leading some nuns when she's retired, Max to be...well, dead. No offense to him. Cedric would be still using his hammer when he's ninety...dunno! Ya just seem more mellow. Maybe they should have kids too..." Kria ponders.
A light blush colors Gail's face at the mention of children, and she shifts uncomfortably in her chair as she tries to suppress the thought. "I...I wouldn't be able to lead the life of a nun after this...at least, not one under the same order I know serve. Most nuns are required to take a vow of non-violence with their celibacy, in to contemplate life and its teachings...for me to take such an oath would be hypocritical. I would be disallow from it, if I didn't stop myself in the first place."
"You travel with the hero Max?" Lisa asks. "His name is known even here in Destonia. Almost as impressive as slaying a Lord of Strife."
"Yeah, Originally we were hired to find him. Now we're off to save the world." Kria smiled, her hand clenching into a fist.
"Save the world..." Lisa says with a smirk. "So the wars mask another world-ending evil? How perfectly predictable. It's become an almost regular occurence in the last few decades or so."
"This one's a bit more unusual! We have like, people who came from the stars and all sorts of lost ancient stuff going about! It's got everyone sans the people here in Destonia and co involved!"
"Details, please," Lisa says, tenting her fingers once more.
Kria took a deep breath. "Ok, Sorel can tell you better. Or the Doc, but he'd be all cynical."
"Hey! I resemble that remark!" The Doctor interjects.
"Anyway, The Strife Lords got Released somehow, and they had this link, and they can possess and corrupt people...almost at will. One of them called Shailtor can anyway. He even got Queen Anri and former shining force people according to some of the other groups. They then did something to the world, and sent it into a another dimension. They eat negativity, so they want war and sadness and anger and stuff, so they can have a great big munch!"
"Eat negativity?" Lisa asks. "Vandals do that. I wonder..."
Kria shook her head. "Nope nope! They aren't Vandals. They're like something else, something not native to our world. Like the space err star people!"
"Mmmm..." Lisa murmurs, rubbing her chin. She looks over to Ignatius. "My son, it looks like you've managed to get caught up in something a bit past the standard adventure I had figured you gone for."
geddis the hero: "Yeah, isn't he lucky?"
"So tell me more about your group," Lisa says, turning back to Kria. "How many of you are there? Anyone I should know besides Max?"
"Um, There is a big bunch of us. The Space People, Alex's Group, mixed bag there, lots from the side of the Continent, Our group, with Max and Anri and people. And Alex has been talking to the Shining Force apparently, and Cedric Group, from Cypress."
Lisa's eyebrow raises again. "Not only the Hero of Rune, but the Mage Queen too? Distinguished company, I daresay. How many of you are there?"
Kria frowned, counting on her fingers, looking over to Sorel. "Yeah...um, Sorel? You're up."
"We number about fifty warriors, with another several hundred troops in support," Sorel says. "And our numbers have only grown."
"Though, that's nothing compared to our egos." The Doctor adds.
Lisa's eyes widen a little bit. "That..." she says. "...is hardly an adventuring band. That is an adventuring regiment."
geddis the hero: Kria sniggers.
Sorel nods. "The scale of it is far greater than any of us could have anticipated."
"Yeah! So you can help the newbies!"
The Doctor glances at Ignatius.
Lisa is quiet for a while, eating the stew while listening to the others.
"Ah," Ignatius says, feeling odd at the ensuing silence. "So... How were things while I was gone?"
"Uneventful. A good harvest, no trouble due to the Empire's attention elsewhere," Lisa comments, eating her stew. "Nothing much to say."
"Oh," Ignatius says.
The Doctor shifts uneasily at this.
"Hey, why'd the Doc look familiar?" Kria asks.
((I was actually shifting because Enrick just send half the destonia army this way.))
"I don't know," Lisa says, frowning. "Something about his face... It seems familiar, like I've seen it before."
"Have you been in touch with any of the other heroes you travelled with?" Sorel asks, breaking the silence.
"Isn't that odd..." The Doctor remarks quietly as he contiunes eating the soup.
"Partially," Lisa says in response to Sorel. "I travelled with Arthur and Melody for a while before it became clear that I was... with child."
"Yay! Iggy!"
The Doctor chuckles.
"Melody still checks in on me every once in a while," Lisa says. "Basso visits frequently. I haven't seen Forte in a while, but Melody says he's still partners with her. No one seems to have seen Rodi or Arthur for years. I know that Akane and Doyle still live in Far East village, but I hear they take frequent trips, probably to check on world affairs... Akane much less so now that the Lord is dead. She's taken his place as head of the village." Lisa chuckles, her eyes distant. "She had such a crush on Arthur back when we were all fighting together..."
"Did any of the others have children?" Sorel asks.
"No," Lisa says, looking out a window. "They were all a bit young, anyway. Even if they weren't, in the time that's passed..." Lisa shrugs. "I doubt it. Arthur was too much the wandering spirit to settle down, Melody was much the same, Akane had a mountain of duties to tackle before she could think of a relationship, and who knows what Rodi was thinking," Lisa says, sipping her water. "Perhaps they did, but it'd have to be fairly recent."
Lisa turns to Sorel. "Why do you ask?"
"I was thinking about..." he shakes his head. "It does not matter."
Lisa smiles at Sorel. "If you say so. I won't press the matter."
"Ooo! Sorel's a single parent as well!" Kria butts in.
"Oh?" Lisa asks.
Sorel resists the urge to glare at Kria. "I suppose I am," he says.
"You suppose you are?" Lisa asks. "Children are a rather definate thing, I always thought."
"Parents raise their children," Sorel responds.
"I see," Lisa says, sipping her water again. "I won't press the issue..." Lisa returns to eating her stew. "If I am to accompany you, where is it that we will be heading?"
"We were going to visit the kingdom of Enrich," Gail says, after waiting for someone to speak up. "It was decided that the information we were seeking would be best found there...the information surrounding the Innovators, the Vandals, and their kingdom. The Cult of Ur began in Enrich as well, so it's thought that by heading there, we may gather some clue as to how they operated in the past...along with determine what caused their resurrection. If you mean after this, though," the knight continues after a pause, "If you wish to join us in our efforts...we may be able to house you in our fortress...though I can't say it would be comfortable, as our barracks in still being constructed."
"You have a fortress?" Lisa asks, raising an eyebrow and clearly re-evaluating the group. "You continue to surprise me. If you seek information about the Vandals, I can provide you with a few answers myself, and direct you to more knowledgeable sources. How much do you already know about them?"
"We know that they feed upon negative energy...much like the Strife Lords claim they do...and that they ruled Enrich and Aspia in the distant past. There are those that possess the Spirit, which are True Vandals, and they vastly overshadow those that lack it, the Inferior Vandals. They are also...seemingly immortal."
: "That is correct, but do you know how they get the Spirit? Do you know how a Vandal is made?" Lisa asks.
"Please, tell us..." The Doctor replies quietly.
Lisa sighes heavily, running a hand through her hair to clear stray strands of it from her face. She looks grim.
: "True Vandals and Innovators are made when the Creator gifts a Spirit to someone that undergoes the ancient rite of Evolution. They all start as merely powerful humans, but their actions for good or ill over time causes the catalytical spirit to change them into a Vandal or and Innovator. A powerful civilization once flourished here, on this continent. It was ruled by Innovators for a long time. However, as I heard it, the people grew lazy and complacent, which caused the Innovators to become spiteful, and to grow to hate their charges. Eventually the people began to grow demanding and decadent, and the Innovators lashed out in a wrathful conquering. No one seems to know exactly what happened, only that the first Vandals, Galm one of them, were born from the Innovators, and they created the Thousand Year Kingdom. This kingdom overtook the previous civilization and oppressed the people, causing terrible calamities and atrocities to feed the now malicious superhumans. Rivers of blood flowed to their maws, and mountains of corpses were sacrificed to appease them..."
Lisa grows quiet.
: "Though the reign of Vandal was long, it was not eternal. The Creator sent fire from the sky and leveled the continent, killing nearly everything and pushing the Vandals to the brink of destruction," Lisa says, softly. "It cost me a great deal to learn why, but I managed to contact some of those that were part of the Expedition to the North. They told me..."
Lisa closes her eyes.
: "Do you know why the Creator gifts mortals with spirits? Why he established Evolution?" Lisa asks.
"Well...obviously we don't..." The Doctor replies uneasily, "If we did, would we even bothering researching the matter... I...have no comprehension of the...designs of the creator...at least..." He frowns, "Why is it then?"
: "I actually had heard of it before... Within Enrich Castle there is a painting that acts as a portal to a village in which a small number of refugees from the Ancient Civilization live forever. It is beyond time. As a side note, I learned there that the sun interferes with a Vandal's power to regenerate after being fatally wounded. I also learned that Vandals and Innovators both stop aging when they obtain the Spirit, they are forever frozen at the age they were when they evolved. That is only the smallest part of it, though. There, Arthur, Rodi, Melody, Doyle, Akane, Forte, Basso, and I... There we were told the intentions of the god that made everything on this world," Lisa takes a moment to steady herself. "I still remember his words verbatim. 'We are being tested by the Creator... The Spirit is the Creator's own instrument to measure if a society has the ability to correctly handle prosperity... If the society fails this test, the Creator destroys that culture. Thus, ours has been buried for a thousand years. This is why our kingdom collapsed. The Spirit can be a very destructive power!"
Lisa is silent for a while before speaking again.
The Doctor looks at her, thoughts racing through his mind. We are being tested by the Creator...
: "A test. The spirits are tests. A test which if failed, will cause the Creator to rain down fire until that people are destroyed..." Lisa grips her water cup tightly. "I did not believe it when I first heard it. The priest, himself an inferior Innovator, admitted that he wondered why the Creator would do such a thing. But, word from the North came."
Lisa stands up and walks over to a wall, deftly opening a hidden panel to reveal a small safe, and taking out a key which she fits inside the metal container's lock. She opens the safe to reveal various papers, trinkets, and a small pile of gemstones. She removes the papers and brings them over to the table, sitting down once again.
: "Unlike the words of the High Priest at the Tower of Illusion, I cannot speak these from memory, so I will simply read them from the report I obtained," Lisa says, picking up the papers and reading. "The Priest at the second shrine spoke of another world beyond the heavens, a great world nothing like this one. He spoke to the hero Julian. 'What the heaven wants, is order... order like the world over there. To make sure we can adapt to this order, the heaven is testing us, Julian.' Those are the words he spoke. If the forces of evil overpower the forces of good, then the heavens destroy the world and rebuild it."
The Doctor glances at angelborn, then turns to look down at the tabletop. He whispers under his breath, "Celestia..."
Lisa snorts, a bitter laugh coming from her mouth.
: "It's not destruction, but recreation, since the heavens created us all," Lisa says, mimicking an older, male voice. The mask of calm breaks and true anger mars her features. "What a monstrous excuse! The arrogance! The... The inhumanity!!!" Lisa slams her fist on the table. "Does a father have the right to take a knife to his newborn because he created it?! Does a mother... have the right to cast out her son? Does giving life... entitle you to control it?"
The Doctor cups his hands together, staring down at them pensively.
Lisa slumps in her chair, the outburst having apparently drained her. Ignatius winces at his mother's anger.
: "Total destruction. King Benetram himself put the question to the priest. 'Will the heavens truly destroy every living thing?' That excuse was the reply," Lisa closes her eyes. "That priest then said how he was only an observer acting on the will of the heavens, that this world's fate meant nothing him, that he wasn't like his brother, the Great Priest of Enrich. No..." Lisa sneers. "At least the Priest of Enrich cared, showed compassion enough to shelter those he could despite the will of the Creator."
: "If Darkness overpowers Light, the Creator destroys all life on the planet and starts again. According to my research, everytime the darkness threatens to tip the balance, a Shining Force appears to stop it. If you have been dubbed the Shining Force, then the stakes are higher than you think. Not domination if you fail. Annihilation."
((The bitch is that this twist isn't even mine, but from the games.))
((OK, so I lied, Kai. I'm a liar.))
Sorel listens to Lisa relate the meaning of life, quietly eating his stew. When she finishes, he drops the spoon in the bowl with a faint clatter.
"What does it matter?"
: "Academically..." Lisa says, leaning back with a tired look in her eyes. "Whether or not it matters depends on your views on life. It really doesn't change what you have to do at all, the only thing that's different is that if you fail, that's it. There is no chance for someone else to rise up. It's you or no one, since if you fall, the test is failed and everything is wiped out."
You could hear a pin drop.
"Well then," Sorel says into the silence after taking a sip of water, "It is a very good thing indeed that we will not fail.
Gail's head is bowed in the wake of the story, her skin blanched and her shaking eyes fixed on the table. Moments pass before she stands from her seat, silver hair falling over her face. "I...Excuse me," she says, before hurrying out of the open door.
Sorel watches Gail depart with a grave expression. He glances at the Doctor, and then sighs.
The Doctor starts to his feet as Gail rushes from the room, then he slides back down into his chair with a frown, "Are...you absolutely certain?" He turns his eyes to the elder paladin, pulling a pair of glasses from his pocket and sliding them on, "We have spoken with ancients, set foot in the ruins of the civilization of a thousand years ago... We beheld the place that unleashed their destruction. That...fire which rained down from the heavens...it was unleashed by the hand of mortals..." He meets the gaze of the old druid, then he nods quietly and looks to Lisa, "Sorel, Ignatius and Kria were there. You can ask them." He smiles sadly, "Please excuse me, there's somewhere else I need to be." He then vanishes.
: "There was more than one civilization a thousand years ago..." Lisa says with a sad sigh. "Though none survived."
Gail runs face-first into Lunauga, who had been hunched at the door eavesdropping.
"Whoa! You gotta be careful, Gail. Are you alright?" The giant owl instinctively wraps his wings around Gail in a protective, if smothering embrace.
Gail stumbles when she hits the wall of soft down, reaction driving her head up and showing her wet, shining eyes. Her eyes flit to the side when they pick up motion, but she still is caught in Lunauga's warm embrace, pressing up against her owl friend. Lunauga can hear, if not feel, the quiver in her breath, and her voice is barely a whisper. "I'm...I'm fine....Please, Lunauga...I know you mean well, but...I need to be alone. Please."
"Being alone's no fun," Lunauga says doubtfully, letting Gail pass all the same. "Want some of my dried meat? It's really good."
"No...Tha-That's alright," she says, her voice turning raw while she walks away, in the direction of a river that runs near the village. After a moment, her left hand reaches to pull the holy symbol off her neck, the star catching the light of the sun while she continues at her numb pace. Her feet carry her towards the sounds of a river, and she follows its twists and bends to the outskirts of the village, though she never looks at it. When the fields and the houses fall away, she stops, kneeling at the water's edge while she pulls the golden star into her hands, staring while the light plays upon its face.
For a long moment the only sound is bubbling brook, then there is a light shuffle behind the paladin and a hand is laid gently on her back. The Doctor crouches down beside her and joins her in looking down at the holy symbol silently.
Gail fails to look up at her visitor, choosing to gaze upon the focus her god chose to represent itself. Himself. It is a while, steeped in silence, before the maiden stirs, closing her hands over the small star. "I'm sorry...I must have worried them...just...leaving like that."
"They understand." She feels him shrug, "The ones who matter anyway."
Gail doesn't move at the shrug, continuing to stare at her hands. She chews on her lip, unable to speak the thoughts running rampant through her mind. Finally, she catches one, and her quivering lips ease while she speaks. "Why did it let me believe that? Why...I thought the creator was as much a part of life as a blade of grass, as an infant...as much as any living thing, it was invested in life." The soldier's head hangs while she continues, whispering. "And it let me believe it..."
Alastor rubs his hand over her back, his eyes looking down at the clenched fist holding the holy symbol, "I don't know."
The maiden draws in a deep breath, holding it fora moment, before she shudders, the dragging sigh leaving her. "It...it's not the fact of the end that bothers me...I...I knew what would happen if we lost...the fact that we've done so much, prevented so much, is proof, there..." Another breath passes. "But...but even so...I'd always imagined there would be hope...no matter how small, no matter how dim...there would be hope, even if we failed. But...there isn't. Just an end."
Alastor sits there for a long moment in the quiet, the forlorn words of the paladin hanging heavily over them. "I know...." He whispers finally, his voice tired, "...I know..." He sits there for another moment, "...there is hope though..." He smiles sadly, "How did I word it, so arrogantly... I have stood upon sacred ground, felt the power of heaven course through my veins, and yet there was no salvation in that place. The needs of mere mortals come second to the grand design." He sighs, his words spoken long ago weighing on him now, "...I...I found that there is hope though...in mortals..." He shakes his head, "...that doesn't make it hurt less somehow...though..."
"I...I guess I'm like a lot of people... I didn't really feel special, loved as a child." Alastor says quietly, looking down at the clenched fist, "You...know my mom, not that she didn't love me, but she...was...she needed to..." He shakes his head, "I didn't feel special...not in a loved way, not in a good way...but then I began to... You must know the feeling. I could do amazing things." He continues, "I...read a lot...back then, I guess I still do now... Some scriptures talked about favored souls, people blessed and uplifted by the Light... Chosen. I thought I was one." He pauses for a long moment, "...you know...what happened to me, what I became...after I found out that I wasn't." He wraps lets his hand slide around her in a half embrace, "...you were there for me...together, we can be here for the world... I know it doesn't help but the only Light I could ever worship again is the one you worship... There is something pure in every being, every blade of grass...even if it isn't the creator.... You're not wrong, the world's wrong."
Gail's eyes rise to him when he reaches out to her, the gold in them and the tears on them shining in the winter sunlight. Her gaze turns to her clasped hands, which part to cradle the golden celestial body between them...before she returns the embrace, the little star sliding into the palm of her free hand. The maiden leans towards him, staring at the symbol with a glum frown, before a chuckle surfaces, short and harsh. "How ridiculous...how conceited must a being be...to take one of his own creations in his hands, a thing that's supposed to stand for itself...and make it stand for him instead?" She gathers up the fragile thing and its shining chain, clasping it all in her hand, before she turns to Alastor, holding him in her arms and pulling him close. She whispers in his ear, her voice bordering between broken and tired. "I...I can live for the world...as long as you're with me."
"Yeah." Alastor whispers softly, "Those are my thoughts...almost exactly..." He holds her closer, sheltering her from the world, giving her a moment of safety in which to dwell on her god and the revelation of his character. Finally, after a long time, he pulls away and stands, holding his hands to her.
Gail looks up at Alastor's gesture, staring him in the face before she looks to his outstretched hands. She feels the ugre to scream, to cry, to tell him about every single failing she ever went through in the service of this creator masquerading as creation, to ask what she should do in the presense of the truth. For a moment, she thinks she would do all of them. Then she takes his hands and pulls herself, dusting the snow off her before she turns to the Doctor and gives him a small, sorrowful smile.
Alastor cradles her hands in his and then gently parts them, revealing the precious worn emblem hidden within. He looks into her eyes, her sorrow reflecting in them, then, slowly a faint smile crosses his face, "...merge your power with mine." He closes his eyes, wisps of sacred energy dancing from his fingers and bubbling over her hands and the symbol held by them.
Gail stares at the outpouring of positive energy, wondering what he wanted to accomplish, before she followed along, reaching to tap into that vein of celestial energy that had long since been a part of her. The star takes on a light true to its namesake, white fire erupting from it and cascading over her hands, just high enough to brush the pair of hands above it.
Creation: http://www.vgmusic.com/music/console/nintendo/snes/iogmem.mid
Divine energy meets itself, each washing over the symbol held between them, yet each time they meet, each recoils, as if frightened to meet. The dance continues for a while, the two of them concentrating only on the energy between them...before the symbol takes on a glow of its own, and the scene changes. The fire cools and lengthens and smooths, no longer the fierce bite of self-preserving life, but becoming as water. The white pool in the woman's hands turns to black, and begins to spill out into the air, moving towards both of them. Memories of the globs of chaos stuff run trough their minds, but as they watch, the memory goes, replaced by a feeling of comfort and safety. The light in the man's hands seems to solidify, turning to a prism and gathering at his finger tips until it drips off, dropping onto the growing canvas beneath it. The drop splashes...and a bright blue line of shimmering dots takes its place. The two watch, waiting to see what their work would bear, as the dark matter reaches out to them and more drops leave the man's fingers, red and green and white. Finally, it grows to enclose around them, a sanctuary for the two lovers and friends...a sanctuary made of the cosmos itself.
Alastor lets his hands fall away from the maiden's as he turns to face the swirls of color and specks of light all about them. Slowly, his smile grows as his eyes dart along, following the dance and as he breaths in the air, now the purest he had tasted in his short life. He closes his eyes after a moment and lets out a sigh, the burdens of the world rolling from him, if only for a moment.
Gail turns her eyes to the night sky opening around them, the swirls of stars and suns that paint the dark space of creation and the motion that defines their lives. If she know more about them, she could put names to them - solar systems, galaxies, nebulas, all dancing in the section of the world they had created. The fact that she couldn't didn't lessen the smile on her face at the sight. She tastes the air, too fresh to be anything but alive, and simply stands watching the movement of heaven, the star in her hands shining and spinning like a sun onto itself.
The walls of the universe shudder as the minds of its creators drift, and the ocean of comforting darkness reacts, drawing it self back to the star in Gail's hands. The stars wink out, one by one, until the two are left staring at a pool of black in the maiden's cupped hands. A whiteness bubbles up from the liquid, bursting forth into the fire it had been, before that too sputters and dies.
As their combined energy buckle and then collapse, a shiver runs through Alastor and he runs a hand over his face weakly. When he lowers it, his composure has return and he turns to the maiden just in time to see the last spark of their power die away. His smile is weakened but remains as he steps over to the ill ender, taking one of her hands in his, "We can do it." He nods back from whence they had came, "Let's go rescue Sorel."
Gail comes away from the vanishing spectacle at Alastor's touch, about to nod with a resolute smile...before the last part comes, and leaves her with a furrowed brow. "What would we need to save him from?"
"That woman." Coventry answers darkly, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "I'm sure she's driving him to distraction."
Gail blinks at the answer, but a soft grin breaks through, and she turns to follow Alastor's gaze. "Then let's not waste any time. Who knows what will happen, if we do?"
He pauses, glancing at her thoughtfully, "I suppose we could leave them, grow wings and fly back all on our own." Alastor smiles, "Sorel can take care of himself."
Gail ponders the request, tempted by the offer of flight, but shakes her head and takes a stand. "We just can't leave him like that. It's not if he can get by, it's the fact that he needs us. To run away would nothing short of...cowardice," she says, throwing a mock glare to Alastor before she breaks under the weight of a small chuckle and a good-natured grin. "We need to go back, anyway...otherwise, they'd come looking for us."
Alastor cowers a little in deference to the stern words of the paladin, "Yes...yes...I can see...that you are absolutely right." He hesitates, then leans over and whispers, "Of course, you do realize that if I wanted, they'd never find us." He smiles tauntingly, "Ever." Then he frowns and marches on, "But never mind that, we must fufil our duty to save Sorel."
Gail stares into Alastor's eyes at his comment, and then flits away. "Yes..." she says, cutting herself off before she can say the rest of what's on her mind, though the doctor's pace soon wipes after the dark look on her face, forcing her to focus on keeping in step with him on their valiant mission.
The two reach the old worn cottage, then the Doctor gives pause, "I know that you can't feel fear..." He looks at her, "But no one would hold it against you, if you were to stand out here and talk to the bird while I save Sorel."
Gail shakes her head, showing a tired grin. "You couldn't have forgotten what you said to me, have you?" She looks down at the bond linking them, her hand squeezing his before her eyes raise back to Alastor. "I'm with you."
Alastor fumbles, his eyes locked on her as if captivated, then he nods firmly, "Ok...that settles it, we're definitely growing wings and flying away."
"Wha," Gail manages at the doctor's sudden change of thought. The maiden recovers, though, gesturing to the door facing the runaway's back while she pleads. "But we're so close...all we have to do is walk in the door. You would leave him like that?"
"For you, I would." Alastor nods, he lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it, "Without question." He glances at the cottage, speaking in a firm but not overly loud voice, "Hear that, old man? You're on your own." His grasp on her hand tightens as he looks back to her, "I know you can't feel fear but..." The two vanish.
Gail barely recovers in time to listen to Alastor's last warning, bowing her head to him. "I would never fear..." Then they are gone.
((Listen 20 + 10 + 28 = 58. You guys are dicks. ))
Sorel looks up for a moment, keen eyes focused out the window. A very small smile crosses his lips. I'll manage, he thinks.

Posted by: Aldur Fri Jun 20, 2008 2:23 am
Cedric walks into the makeshift cell where Sulia is held prisoner. "Sulia." He says quietly, giving her a sad look, "Are you well?" "Ah! Cedric, hello!" Sulia smirked. "I'm doing very well thank you. Kyoji feeds me and gives me these inspiring talks while thinking every word I say is to undermine the solidarity of your forces." She tilted her head to one side, pondering this. "Still, he always was suspicious."
"Would you prefer someone more trusting?" Cedric asks, "Zook, perhaps?"
"Oh no, it's fine really. I understand you all have slaughtering and war and things to be doing." Sulia waved a hand flippantly. "Whoever you can spare is fine. So how are you these days?"
"As well as one could expect." Cedric smiles wornly, "Were you always so cheerful or is that another change that has been wrought upon you through consortion with fiends?"
"Well, I'm far less uptight these days. Because I don't really have anything to worry about locked in here..." Sulia shrugged. "I can't really get out either despite my best efforts, kudos on that. Though Amelios will be rather annoyed you've taken yet another thing from him."
"You are a person,not a thing, and you are the first that we have taken from Amelios." Cedric corrects curtly, "Everything else that he has lost, he lost by his own initiative."
"Maybe...the old man should watch out as well. Sorel?" Sulia nodded. "He died then you know? And then he was burnt. I thought that'd be the end of it, but the Lord of the Twisted Web does like to reuse his toys. Now he's a mere skeleton, animated with the desire of revenge, he lost his beauty, his reasons for power and now exists only as an extension of Shailtors will. And since he is still on this plane, I must do my duty." Sulia spat at the ground. "Though I serve Erebeus. Shailtor does not impress me."
"I said we had taken nothing of your husband's, that does not deny that others have taken much from him." Cedric answers quietly, "So, you serve Erebeus, not Shailtor. How did that come to pass, why did the spider pass up you as his next plaything?"
"Simple. I have no...real...past trauma? Or even anything for him to amuse himself with since Amelios is now a Lich. I am however a powerful fighter who can usually carry out missions effectively. This made Erebeus interested, and he IS the eldest brother." Sulia smirked. "Shailtor...I believe he will fall, but then..." She shook her head with a smile. "Erebeus is a whole new battle, such power you have never seen. I tried to make sure I was the one who would grant you all mercy. But I failed." Sulia nodded.
"Erebeus sounds a terrible foe." Cedric replies wearily, "Prehaps it will be him who finally grants me rest."
"Oh?" Sulia shrugged. "He will not grant you rest. He will not kill any of you quickly. It will be slow and more torturous than anything Shailtor could do to you. One of his only kin has been slain, and payment will be given for that."
"So be it then, though Xadoss fell by his will." Cedric smiles coldly, "Let him punish us for his scheming... We will sent another brother to death before he reaches us, let him add that to our sins."
"And the flame that was about go out is bolstered by your will once more." Sulia snorted. "You don't have to do this you know though. I realise I'm the enemy and all but you have many skilled commanders and people. You can certainly rest. You merely have to choose."
"You are wrong in that they are more skilled than I, victory comes more easily to them." Cedric answers quietly, "Their strength is their weakness, for I fear they lack the strength they will need for the coming battle. When all of their strategies fail them, their friends betray them, and their loved ones are killed before their eyes, will they have the strength to carry on?" He shakes his head, "Having so easily defeated their foes until now, how can they prepared for a battle in which even victory is a defeat." He looks at the favored soul, "Even a reunion a parting."
"I never said they were more skillful. Did I touch a nerve? And yes, they have never known the touch of the Lord of the Twisted Web...Well...some have." Sulia laughs darkly. "Though not in the way you'd think. And then you shall stay with them? Bolster them and take over as they all fail? Such confidence in your allies! You should feel shame! You are a Paladin of Mitula! Is that what she teaches?"
"I had another who taught me of such things, a priest of Mitula himself, he lead me consider more pragmatic matters...such as the weaknesses of my allies. The failings of my friends." Cedric answers, "I have no illusions as to my prowess. Our new allies are smarter and stronger than I. What they are not is experienced in the sort of battle we will be forced to fight in the end. If they had the chance to learn from the encounter, certainly they would surpass me with ease, I am but a broken man, but I suspect that your dark lord will give them no such reprieve to rally their defenses and learn how to withstand him." He looks at her with reproach, "You critique my faith? My friendship? You, who abandoned the Light...abandoned us...abandoned me? Your manner no longer suits the person you have become, Sulia."
"I abandoned all in the sake of my duty. The sacred duty that above all else I am entitled to uphold. And I think I am in the perfect position to critique you. After all, I'm the one who laid you out on the floor remember?" Sulia chuckled at the memory.
"You abandoned your god, your comrades, and your calling in order to search for your dead husband? Who was given a funeral under the customs of Volcanon? The matters of the dead do not come above those of the living, neither did your duty to your husband somehow negate your other duties. Your actions were not noble, they were petty and selfish; for abandoning your allies and charges for your own personal gratification and more so for fleeing in the night instead of speaking directly to us about your decision. We would have, perhaps foolishly, supported you in that goal but instead you acted, properly, as one shamed, slinking away in the night." Cedric replies sternly, "Perfect position to critique me? You? Who turned your back on those who depended on you? I remember that you overcame me once while sparring, somehow that gives you the right, you wretched whore to fiends, to critique me now? Sulia, we will do what we can to undo the desecration done to you and we will forgive your betrayal, but do not for an instant believe that we will ever hold you in the same esteem again."
Sulia smirked at this, stepping closer to the doorway Cedric looked through, her face unfazed. "You could never understand. But of course, Preach at me! Preach to me about the better path! Preach about the goodness you yourself no longer believe! Your words lack conviction! Your fire is burning out! And your humanity may soon follow if you keep on being this Hollow husk!" She spat. "Even a child could speak with more clarity and resolve that you at the moment. I may be all you say, but I don't care. For my ultimate duty! For that any shame is enough! The duty given by my family and bound by my belief! For those I'll take any critisism! So mock me! Mock away False Paladin! But your words do NOTHING!"
"Like your husband before you, you are a weak fool who allowed your passion and strength to be turned to darkness. Keep your delusions and your judgements, they mean nothing for unlike you, I am still blessed by my deity. Mitula does not judge me false, the words of a traitor and a whore to Erebeus are meaningless babble. Let the Light judge if you preserved your highest duty by abandoning your allies to seek out the burnt remains of your fallen mate... You know, I had given much thought to restoring Amelios and giving him a chance to redeem himself, if you had spoken of your intent we would done more than give you leave, we would have accompanied you. Instead, you crawled away in the darkness, ashamed to give voice to your intent to the Light and your allies." Cedric shakes his head, "That is the path you choose, justify it as you will, but know that I among those who feels the most pity towards you, there are others who are not nearly as forgiving. We will speak again." The paladin turns and begins to walk from the prisoner's cell.
"How dare you! Hold! HOLD I SAY!" Sulia cries, her wings batting threateningly as she slams a fist into the door. "You don't know any of it! Inform you? Oh yes, like you all would have dropped defending the village to come away with me! I'm sorry I didn't burden you all with my worries to further stress everyone out! And don't you dare call me a whore! Traitor I may be....but never that! It is my duty that chains me to this course, not Erebeus! The Strife Lords can rot for all I care!"
"You accuse me of judging falsely but clearly you learned nothing of our character in the time you were among us." Cedric rebukes as he contiunes to walk away, "Let the Light carry out a judgement upon you when the last vestage of fiendish taint is striped away."
"My judgement is past, and I live in punishment, with such physical markings as I bear. All this because I failed in my duty once before, and so all that came to be...came to be. All that happened to Amelios stemmed from me failing to compromise long ago...and now it is my turn to pay for it. You may not have anything or anyone judge me. For the time has past." Sulia sighed sadly, turning away from Cedric. "And of course I learnt. I learnt enough to know I was an outsider."
"Less of one than I." Cedric replies coldly, "It is not your place to say who or what may judge you, you broke sacred vows and betrayed your god. The Light cares not for your opinion of who it may or who it may not judge. Favored soul indeed, to so abandon your patron and claim a higher duty."
"Hmm, that is..." Sulia pondered for a moment. "Abandon? Well I suppose that's how it is in your eyes. Ah well. You're entitled to think what you will based on what you do not know. Still, Good luck with everything."
Cedric contiunes on, leaving the prisoner in silence.
Sulia smiled wistfully, stepping back into her quarters, looking up to the roof, imagining the sky beyond, shaking her head as she settles down once more, a glum look marring her face.

Posted by: Cyrus Sat Jun 21, 2008 9:26 am
(When we last left our heroes...) The two appear high in the night sky, the great orb of the moon hanging over them and bathing the clouds in its soft light. Shining stars dance in the heavens, twinkling motes of light in the darkness. Far below them is a spread of clouds seemingly without end, aglow with the light of the moon, broken here and there to show the earth far below and pierced by the towering dark forms of great mountains.
"...this might come as a bit of shoooock!" Alastor attempts to continue before the wind tears the words from his lips and the two begin to fall towards the clouds below. Unaccustomed to the wind of such heights and lacking any instinct to guide him on how to meet them, his form is buffeted and awkwardly thrown about. There is the impression that, save for the hand holding his and providing some measure of direction, he would fall into a rolling tumble towards the earth below, missing the hidden world around him as he plummeted.
The air in Gail's lungs leaves with the wind whipping around her, the pair of them falling to earth with only their hands linking them together. The angel born finds herself lost in the spectacle around her, how bright the stars shone and how many of them came to watch two people tumble through the heights of creation. The feel of the world pulling them back fades when she stares at the sky; she almost lets go. Her eyes flick to Alastor, and she squeezes his hand, shouting something that she can't hear over the wind roaring in her ears. The maiden gazes down at the moonlit clouds, wondering what she could do, before she curls up, tucking her legs and her head in while she keeps hanging onto him. She falls faster, only enough to get under him, before she spreads out and reaches for his other hand. She stops herself, though, catching a glimpse of the moon lighting their way, before it disappears in the chilling white veil of the clouds.
Alastor lets out a gasp as the cold mist collides with him, the silvery clouds vanishing into moist vapor as it nears arms length. The droplets of water cling to him and his hair darkens as it is soaked. He looks to his partner and reaches out to take her hand, caught half outstretched. He smiles at her, his eyes shining with the substance of unborn rain, speaking words lost in the wind. Then, as they plummet clear of the first towering cloud, surrounded above and below by silvery purity, he pushes her hands away from him releasing them. As he falls away from her towards another tower of mist, he holds his hands towards her speaking once more.
She feels magical power surges through her, her body shifting and growing as great additions spring painlessly from her shoulders. The wind catches on these great silvery wings and she seems to surge up as he vanishes smiling into the cloud bank.
Gail stares at where the clouds swallowed Alastor, shocked that he would let go and continue his descent alone. It took her a moment to realize that her own descent had stopped, halted by the new wings sprouted from her back, muscles and ligaments she couldn't feel pumping away to keep her aloft. With a single thought, they fold, the maiden hanging in the air for barely a second before she drops after him, rain not yet heavy with its purpose clinging to her clothing, her hair, her face. The rush of unfurled wings comes when the mist parts into open air again, Gail's eyes darting back and forth in search of her partner.
The maiden spots a glimmer of light floating in the distance and on drawing closer finds it to be her friend, though now much smaller and having sprouted thin translucent wings akin to a dragonfly. He smiles at her and flutters over, landing on her shoulder and pecking her on the cheek. Then he settles down and locks his hands into the links of her armor.
Gail gives a deep sigh at Alastor's return and a slight blush at his show of affection, presenting her own with a bright, calm smile. The maiden chuckles at herself and her worries, remembering his antics on the island and a number of other tricks he could use. "I suppose you would be more prepared than I...you thought of this, after all," Gail concedes, turning to look upon the layers of clouds under their feet and over their heads. "Where should we go?"
The miniature Doctor shakes his head with a rueful smile, "I have a habit of just jumping into things, not really thinking them through beforehand." He chuckles, "I kind of try to be prepared for anything but...I never really stop to prepare myself for anything. You know?" He looks up at her, "Up? Dance over the clouds bathed in the light of the moon?"
"I find myself the same...except for one difference," Gail finds herself saying, taking care not to lean in to close while she whispers, a grin across her lips. "I can't wait." With that, the winged angel born rises, powerful white wings carrying her higher and higher through the cloud cover, until the pair burst through the thickest clouds to reach the pearled summit beyond them. She takes a deep breath of the slight air whirling at this peak, and makes to soar before she pauses, looking to the tiny traveler on her shoulder with a shake of her head. "Are you going to stay there all night? I can't dance by myself, after all."
"Well, I hoping to just enjoy the view..." The tiny man admits, glancing up coyly, "...but if by some miracle no one else is going to ask for this dance... I guess I can summon up my courage." He releases his hold on her armor, sliding off into a dive even as he grows back to normal size and twin brown-red winds sprout from his back. He pulls himself up, soaring around and coming to face her, his wings flapping uneasily, "Um...how...do you make this look so easy?" He shakes his head as he awkwardly keeps flight, "I feel like a turkey trying to fly alongside a kite."
Gail watches while the quack takes to the skies once more, this time donning more formal plumage in an attempt to show his prowess of the air. The display fails to impress, and the kite's head dips, reflecting on the question. "I suppose...I've had a lot of practice," she decides, a good-natured grin breaking through before it fades, and the maiden gazes out to the star-streaked night that served as their ball room. "Besides...I feel that...I belong here." Her eyes turn distant and dreamy before she returns, tilting her head at the comparison. "A kite?" A fingers settles on her lip in thought, soon letting a chuckle pass its guard. "I like it...though, both are more graceful than I am. I...don't think you're as bad as you think you are, either." A playful smile takes place on her small lips. "If you were a turkey, you'd be falling like a rock right now."
"Oh..." Alastor manages as his wings suddenly stop and he begins to fall.
Gail starts when Alastor stops, diving for him before he falls too far. The angelborn manages to wrap her hands around his wrist, and her wings beat in the effort to keep them both aloft, currents of cold air whirling past the couple from the act.
Miraculously, the turkey's wings join in the effort and slowly Alastor lifts up until he is flying beside the maiden, mischief in his eyes, "I agree with you...for now." He pulls his wrist free, holding each of her hands in one of his, "You definitely belong where I am." He flips his wings and pulls her along with him in a shallow dive over the clouds, "So...dancing?" He tilts a wing and the two spin around, each splashing through the misty clouds and back out again, before he suddenly calls out, "Up!" He flaps his wings at once and pulls her with him.
Gail only has the time to follow again, stretching her wings to aid in the soaring effort of Alastor's lead while the dancers tumble and corkscrew between the clouds and the celestial sky above. Soon, she feels the rhythm of it all, and closes her eyes, taking in the scream of the wind in her ears, the way it ran across her face. At Alastor's call, the maiden's white wings flap with his, keeping in time with the performance.
The two flit across the otherworldly cloudscape, spiraling to new heights and plunging down in near embrace into the mists below only to surge back up gliding on wings and drifting apart until only their fingertips hold them together. Then as their ascent slows, they pull closer and sway along; circling one another slowly as their wings gently let them down into the clouds.
As the clouds give way to the comforting mist, Gail gives Alastor a soft, warm glance...before she lets go, her fingers pulling back and her wings folding behind her. She folds her arms in front of her and looks to Alastor one last time before she closes her eyes and plummets to the ground in a tight corkscrew.
Alastor returns the smile uneasily, watching as she throws herself towards the earth far below before diving after her.
The angelborn continues her spin towards the earth, soon becoming a shining dot in the distance. For a moment, it doesn't look like she'll stop. Her wings shoot out and straighten before such an event can occur, the maiden curving up into lazy loops and meandering turns, as if her wild roll had never happened. She begins to soar down to the earth again, this time floating down like a leaf.
Alastor curves out of his dive after the maiden, shaking his head with a wry grin as she meanders around in a carefree fashion. “Amazing..” He chuckles then floats down after her.
Coventry follows Gail's lead, landing a scant few seconds after her. The maiden turns at the sound of her friend's own wings, a content, radiant smile stuck upon her face. Her eyes are half closed, and though she looks at Alastor, her gaze seems to be looking far away. "I...apologize if I worried you. It...just came to me when we were flying."
“Oh you, come on.” Alastor shakes his head as he waves off her apology with a smile, “If you doing suicidal things bothered me, I never would have fallen in love with you.” He walks to her side, turning to look into the distance with her, his eyes thoughtful, “What is it?” He takes her hand silently, “What was it like?”
Gail's eyes follow Alastor, not wanting to pull themselves away, but before long they follow his gaze, watching the far-off blackness of the horizon. "It...It was...right." She pauses, watching the stars shine, locked into their place in creation. "The wind felt so calming, though it whipped past me...felt so soothing, though it was so loud...felt so right, though I've only dreamed about it. I think...for a moment...I stopped breathing." The silver haired maiden moves closer to the doctor, taking his hand in hers while she leans closer to him, waiting with him. After a few moments of silence, her honey-colored eyes shift to Alastor, the same content smile on her face. "What are you looking at?"
Alastor squeezes her hand, answering with faint rue, "I wanted to see what you see." He glances to her, a sad smile crossing his lips, "Feel what you feel." He turns to her, raising a hand to brush her cheek, "All I can see and feel is that its beautiful, pure...sacred..." He looks into her eyes, adding softly as he rests his forehead against hers, "I'm blessed to just feel that." His wings curl over hers, sheltering her in a feathery embrace, "Thank you...you've given me a glimpse of heaven." He holds her silently for a long moment, then he breaths shakily, "Thank you." His wings melt away, leaving him standing with her in the early morning, his eyes glimmering with tears, "...you, you belong there, not here... In that...perfect world...the creator made for his perfect creations, not here." His voice is unsteady, his eyes growing increasingly certain and frantic as the words pour from his lips even as the thoughts behind them take form, "That's why. That's why this world is tearing you apart. This isn't...this isn't where you belong. You're too good...for this world, for us."
Gail's gaze locks with Alastor at the outpouring of his gratitude, his sorrow, his love. She waits for him to finish, unable to do anything but watch him and listen to the words that tumble from his lips. She waits and she watches and she bites her lip to keep the tears in her eyes from rolling over. She stands there in the silence, pausing to let the urge leave, before she returns the embrace, her arms wrapping around where his wings would have been. "I wouldn't want it," she whispers, peering into his eyes, as if to make sure he heard her. "I wouldn't want to be made there, to live there for the rest of my days...Life can be terrible and cruel and short, but it can be fulfilling and soothing and amazing...no perfection can match it...especially not one in which a creator forces life into its image. One which would sacrifice the worth of a thing as grand as life...to make another copy of what already is." She pauses, swallows back the ache in her throat, though it still comes out in her voice. "I wouldn't want to be there...and I wasn't imagining myself, wasn't dreaming of some far shore that I will never see, heard, or feel..." The maiden's arms untangle themselves, and her hands touch his face, bringing his head up so that their eyes can meet straight on. "I was looking at you." She then leans in, her small lips touching his, and staying there, in the silence of the breaking dawn.
At her final words, he trembles beneath her fingers, his eyes wavering in the instant before their lips touch. Mouth pressing against mouth, he wraps his hands around her waist and pulls her closer to him. When their lips part, at last, he continues to hold her, his eyes staring into hers as if there were nothing else in the world. Then his eyes close, a heavy sigh passing through his lips as he visibly relaxes. None of it mattered. This was something greater than him, than his designs. She was greater than him. When his eyes open, looking at her lovingly, they are tinged with weariness and serenity, a peaceful surrender. He swallows, a weak smile playing over his lips, "I..." He pauses, then reaches up to take her hands and pulling them down from his face, then he looks down at her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing her hands gently, "I...never thought..." you would be so amazing. That you would make everything else seem so...unimportant. All of my scheming...my plots...they all seem so pointless compared to you. There's... He shakes his head softly, "...nothing...more..." important than just being with you.
He releases one of her hands, reaching into a pouch at his side to the chime of metal striking metal. Then he withdraws his hand, reaching into another pouch and withdrawing the hand clenched into a fist. He whispers sacred words of forming into the early morning, then he falls to a knee, unclenching a fist to reveal a simple golden ring adorned with a single diamond which he holds up to her. "Gail Haubrekt, will you be my companion in life?" He hesitates, then adds, "Stay at my side in times of light and let me stand by you in times of darkness?" His eyes look up at her unwavering, any doubt or question extinguished by the love in them. There is a glimmer of another emotion, an almost mischievous apologetic light in his eyes, almost as if he were reassuring her that he would soon present her a more worthy ring.
At first, Gail merely quirks a brow and watches Alastor work with a tired, playful grin. For a moment, inbetween his magic words, she considers asking what he was doing, but she stops herself, reminding herself that he liked to set up surprises, and so far today, she had liked each one. The smile vanishes when he drops to one knee, and all traces of fatigue run away when he presents the ring, leaving wide-eyed shock to meet his question head on. A hand comes up to cover her beaming smile, short chuckles of disbelief scattered amongst the tears that brim over her eyes and onto her face. The maiden finds herself falling to a knee after him, unable to stand up to the weight of such a question, while the light in her golden eyes flick from Alastor's apologetic smile to the ring in his palm. "It's...," she begins, searching for the word to describe its shine, its shape, how perfect it was, before she gazes into his brilliant blue eyes and whispers to him, wrapping her hand over the ringbearing palm. "Forever." The angel born pulls her hands away, sliding them around her fiancee in a warm embrace while she rests her head on his shoulder, tears of joy staining his coat.
His tears joining hers, Alastor manages as he returns the embrace, "You're...suppose to put it on..." He lets out a weak chuckle, "I think... I've never done this before..."
Gail looks up to Alastor, tears still falling from her bleary eyes, before she returns the chuckle with a soft smile, wiping away the outburst from her face. "I...I'm not sure, either...but shouldn't...the person proposing...be the one to place it?"
"I...I think you're right..." Alastor replies sheepishly, tears running down his face, "Silly me." He slides the ring onto her finger, stares at it a moment, looks up to her and smiles, asking simply, "When?"
The glow of Gail's smile grows while she watches Alastor places a symbol of the future on her finger, a future to be spent together. When her fiancee's question comes, Gail raises her eyes to him, and looks into Alastor's eyes. Her answer is as simple as the question itself; "When we're ready...we'll know."
"I don't think I will." Coventry counters with a worried frown, "I mean... What if we don't?"
Alastor's worry halts Gail's moment, and even goes so far as to infect her appearance, causing her to bite her lip and wring her hands as she tries to stammer words of comfort. Then, she catches sight of the ring once more, and her face hardens into a mask of brave resolution. "Then...Then we should do it now."
"But..." Alastor hesitates, his eyes drift down, "...don't you want...him there?"
Gail's mask falters for a moment, showing a flash of vulnerable confusion while she shies away. "Him?"
"Your father."
Gail is left stunned by the statement, and for a moment can only stare in silence. Before long, the maiden's head begins to bow, and it looks like she considers it for the first time. "I don't know. I...I don't know what would happen, if he came. I've only seen him a few times in my life...I wouldn't even know what to say." A smile crosses her face, weak and flickering, but a smile it remains. "Besides...he may be there, even if we don't ask..." she reasons, before the smile dies, "...or if we can't find him."
"...maybe." Alastor agrees quietly, staring hard into the distance, "Maybe."
Gail continues to stare at the ground, locked within her own head, before a hand flies to her mouth and a yawn interrupts her. A slight blush shows through after its long, whispery procession, and her gold eyes flick to Alastor to see if he noticed before she speaks. "It's funny...I feel like I've been up for an entire day...that isn't the case, though, is it?"
"Noted...owls don't make the best beds..." Alastor says quietly, a smile tracing across his face, "Frolicking across the skies all night probably didn't help..." He gets to his feet, pulling her up after him, "Shall we go sit under a tree and watch the sunrise?"
The smile the angelborn had worn moments before trickles back at the question, brightening her face when she nods. "I'd like that," she says, her hand wrapping around his while she waits for him to go on.
The two find a lone sentiential on the slopes of rock and grass, an ancient oak, and settle down to watch the sunrise sheltered between its great roots. They spend the rest of the morning there, at times dozing, at times talking, and just being.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Mon Jun 23, 2008 5:06 am
"Gail," Lisa says, approaching the other woman warrior. "I've been meaning to talk to you." Gail starts at the sound of Lisa's voice, tensing before she realizes who was speaking to her. Wiping the surprise, the maiden throws up a polite smile. "Oh...Hello, Lisa. I...apologize about leaving so suddenly the last time we spoke. Just got...caught up in something."
Lisa shakes her head. "That's fine. What I said wasn't easy news. How are you holding up?"
The smile flickers for a moment, but Gail manages to hold on to it. "I've been worse. It's a matter that will...take some time, before I can decide what I should do."
"In any case, do you still intend to see the war through to the end?" Lisa asks.
Gail stares at Lisa for a moment, then her eyes fall, and she turns silent. "As long as there is something I can do...As long as I am not a burden to those around me...then I can only keep fighting."
"I thought you might say something like that," Lisa says, unbuckling the sheath from her belt and tossing it, sword and all to Gail. "You're lacking a sword. I think you'll make better use of mine than I will."
Gail watches the weapon land at her feet, then looks to the ex-paladin with a furrowed brow. "Is that the only reason why you choose me?"
Lisa arches an eyebrow. "An odd way of saying thank you. What do you mean 'chose?"
"Why not your son? If he received this from you...it might mean a great deal more to him than it would to me. He's as much a soldier as I am now...it will see use."
"My son doesn't want it," Lisa says simply. "His style of fighting isn't one that uses swords."
Gail's eyes float back to the sword, and her hands slide under it, rising with her. The paladin traces the edge of the leather scabbard, worn and scarred from use, and she extends the blade back to Lisa. "I'm sorry. I cannot accept this."
"You think you can manage without a sword," Lisa says, skeptically.
Gail pulls back, gazing at the blade in her hands once again. "It is not the fact that I will survive without it...but it is what the blade itself will do." The stifled ring of metal sounds while the soldier draws the blade, staring at the brilliant, white, plain blade. "It can't save an innocent. It can't beat back walls of fire, or stop an arrow from driving into a friend's heart. It can't stop death...the only thing it can do is cut, and slice, and sever." A sigh passes through her lips while she steaths it. "I...don't want to be known...to be praised for being a killer." She hands the blade back, her eyes closed. "I'm sorry. A sword hasl never helped me save a life."
Lisa stares at Gail for a long time, then simply collects her sword and turns, shaking her head. She turns only to say a single thing before leaving. "You've wrapped yourself in falsehood."
--------
"Isyndel, may I ask you a question?" Kyoji asks, approaching the elven wizardess.
DragonmasterDon1: Isyndel nibbled idly on an eraser before she heard the sound of a voice, her eyes darting from line to line on each page as she read. At the sound she held up a lone finger without removing her eyes from the book as she completed her passage, taking the pencil out of her mouth to scribble a note on the paper beside her. "My apologies," she replied softly, bringing her eyes upward finally. "What did you need?"
"I just spoke to Sulia a while ago, and she told me something... odd. You haven't spoken to anyone about my fall so long ago, have you?" Kyoji asks.
"Your fall?" she queried, a blank expression crossing her face as she traced the eraser edge of the pencil across her bottom lip. She tilted her head and furrowed her brows as she beheld Kyoji in thought for a moment.
"The tree," Kyoji says, quietly.
"Tree...oh," the recollection came before her as her head returned straight once more. "Speak of it? Perhaps I have. I do not remember. Why?" she asked, removing her glasses and crossing the frames as she placed them on the table before her.
Kyoji regards Isyndel for a moment. "Because you said you wouldn't speak of it, and Sulia said you told her, and that it became a grand joke behind my back."
Isyndel brought her fingers to her temples and rubbed them slowly in a clockwise motion before dragging her hands down the sides of her cheek. She felt them burning hot, felt the heat rising up her spine as she sat for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Could I have mentioned it in passing? I do not know," she spoke flatly, clearly restraining herself. "I recall nothing of anyone having a laugh at your expense, however."
"That is some comfort. I believe she said it as an attempt to demoralize me, and nothing more," Kyoji says, quietly. "Be wary of such attempts when you speak with her."
"I am not so self-conscious that such a thing would concern me even slightly," she spat, digging her hands into the edges of the table she had moved to grasp. She took another deep breath before speaking again. "You would do well to do the same; you've achieved enough in your lifetime that such trivialities should not concern you."
"That's not why I asked," Kyoji says, simply as he walks away.
Isyndel nodded, placing her glasses on once more and blanketed by some measure of comfort in knowing she had not lost control of any of her other stress. Still, she told herself, perhaps it would be best to look into resolving this when her work was done.

Posted by: Kaihaku Sat Jun 28, 2008 2:19 pm
Sophie is sitting in her tent reading her prayer book. Late one night, Gail approaches Sophie's lit tent, steeling herself against the thoughts of what might happen before she leans up to it and whispers. "Sophia? Are you still awake?" There is no reply for a long moment, then the priestess turns a page quietly, "Yes, I am."
The short span of silence makes it worse, the maiden biting her lips while she waits. "May I come in?"
"Yes, please do." The priestess replies.
Gail nods, lifting the tent flap and ducking inside. Her gold eyes land on the prayer book nearby, and she stops. "I'm sorry...I'm interrupting, aren't I?"
”Yes." Sophie answers, closing the book quietly and looking up, a faint sad smile appearing on her lips, "Nice boots."
"Oh...thank you," the paladin says, looking down at the soft leather boots that adorned her feet. A smile grows into place on her small lips. "They were...a gift." She admires them a moment longer before she remembers where she is, diving the rest of the way inside. "I apologize...If you'd rather rest, I could return tomorrow..."
"No..." Sophie answers cautiously, "It's fine, what is it you want?"
Gail hesitates, her eyes shifting away, as if she's afraid to ask. "If...," the maiden begins before she stops, failing to fill the silence with something. When she finds herself wringing her hands, she sets them on her lap, taking a deep breath before she starts again. "If...you discovered that something you believed in was wrong...wrong to so many others who were supposed to share the same beliefs, the same ideals...but to you, this right belief was the one that felt wrong...what would you do?"
Sophie listens to her with certainty that soon fades to confusion, “I don’t quite understand...” She hesitates, “Is this about… What is this about?”
Gail looks at Sophie for a moment, hoping that she would answer in any way but that. She bites her lip for a moment, wondering what to say to it, before she decides with a ragged sigh. "When...When you chose to serve the Light...What were you taught that it was?"
Sophie leans back, glancing at her prayer book”The…creator of the cosmos?” She looks at the paladin quizzically, “Life, pure and uncorrupted, perfect and supreme? The one being who could be just and yet merciful?”
Gail nods, traces of a smile lining her face. "Yes...I always held the second view closest to my heart...that the creator was invested in life because it was living, just as alive as any being...that one could look to a blade of grass and see a connection to the spirit of existence itself." Gail halts there, bowing her head to the ground below. "I still believe that."
"Still?" Sophie asks with a frown.
Gail nods, not raising her eyes. "When...when we went to Lisa to ask about the Vandals, how to fight them...we..." The angelborn's hands tighen into fists, her nails digging into her palms to bite back the wound in her throat. "We...were told everything...why their existence is deemed as...essential as the Innovator...and what it means for our existence. What it means to...Him."
"Him?" Sophie laughs uncomfortably, "Gail, you're making me nervous, just come out and say...whatever it is that you're trying to say..."
Gail sits for a long while, not moving or speaking, simply trying to control herself enough to keep going. The moment passes, though, and she raises her hands in front of her, looking down at them. When she speaks, her voice is a whisper. "There's...an existence beyond this. An existence so pure and beautiful and good that...that deserves to be made again, deserves to be copied. So...a denizen of this place...decides to make a planet, and a star for it to revolve around, and life to fill it. And to a select few of those people that live on this planet, he gives a small drop of His power...and then, He watches what they do. Whether they commit good or evil. If there are too many performing evil...if there are too few performing good...even if He believes that good simply has no case, no chance...He wipes the world away and starts again." Tears begin to run over Gail's eyes, and her voice breaks. "That...That is what we learned from her...what she learned...from a group of people who were deemed so faithful, so truly good, that He could not destroy them. Instead, he placed them outside existence...a reward for their service, where they don't know age, hunger, thirst, death...where they do not live...they merely be."
"It's not truth." Sophie answers with startling ease, not a hint of doubt in her voice, “The person who speaks such words is no guide to be heeded… At best, they are a bitter lost soul, and at worst one tarnished, tainted by evil and seeking to pull others down with them.” The priestess looks at the paladin sadly, “I’m surprised… I have felt doubt too, but…how could you believe such a great blasphemy? You know the Light even more than I.”
Gail stares at Sophia, at the answer the sister gives. The simple answer, the faithful answer, the right answer...It doesn't help, to hear it. "I want to believe that...To say simply that it's a lie, and dismiss it...but though I feel the Light around me, I...I still doubt. Yet...it is not my belief that I doubt...but...but that those beliefs are...the Light." Her face falls, and her features darken in the faint candlelight. "Perhaps...perhaps I...never believed."
Sophie's eyes widen in concern as her friend continues, "No... No. This is some device of the enemy..." She looks down with a frown, "We should consult Hal, he'll know...he'll know how to dispel it."
(Hal… lol… ))
Gail looks to Sophie, wanting to agree, to simply nod and shake off the cold dread of doubt or the weight of her faltering faith. Instead, the maiden shakes her head. "This...this is no trick...This doubt is real...maybe it was always there, and I never saw it. I just...have to overcome this...confront it...and I...I...I don't know how."
"Then ask the Light." Sophie answers with the same calm maddening certainty, "There is no doubt of its grace and compassion, pray and seek guidance." The priestess looks at her kindly, "Have you prayed about this?"
"I can't." The statement hangs in the air for a moment before Gail continues. "I have tried...tried to let go, to commune with the Light around me...to reaffirm what I believe in, find some answer to this...but when I try, I...can't." The paladin leaves this statement in the air, looking away.
"Are you certain then, that something...isn't blocking you?" Sophie asks, "Gail, I'm not able to understand how someone like you can doubt... I mean, the Light handpicked you to be its champion." The priestess is quiet for a moment, her eyes thoughtful, "Then...again..." She looks at the paladin, "Is it him? Is he... Is he doing this?" Her eyes narrow, an anger and a sadness in them, "Was Alastor the one who caused this? It's not enough for him to reject his own blessing, the powers bestowed on him by the Light...despite everything... He has to poison your soul with his doubt too."
A pang of guilt pierces Gail's heart at the first bit of the speech...but at the second, the silver haired maiden raises her hands and shakes her head. "No...No, Alastor hasn't been trying to...subvert my faith. If anything, he...he's been supporting me, trying to help me...cope. It...it helps." Despite the defense, Gail seems to shrink, wringing her hands while she consider what she would have to say next. "Also, I...wasn't chosen by the Light itself. I was chosen by...my father."
"Your father? No, gods pick their champions..." Sophie replies, "What are you trying to say, that Sir Max is only a paladin because he grew up in a church?" The priestess shakes her head, "It's a special intimate relationship between a god and their highest servant. You know that..." She looks at the holy knight, a strange look in her eyes, "Unless...you're saying that your the daughter of the creator." Her eyes narrow, reflecting on those silver locks she had once envied so.
The holy knight shakes her head, calm in spite of the statement's nature. "No...however, you could say that...as a servant of the Light. that there is no man more devoted than him." A melancholy frown comes over her, more reflective than the frantic, maddening doubt consuming her. "He was simply born that way..."
Sophie stares at her silently.
Gail tenses in the silence, her head hanging while she waits for the outburst she had been dreading since she entered.
"Everyone...doubts..." Sophie finally says quietly, breaking the silence, "...why does your doubt...have to be so...so absolute..." She looks down, shaking her head sadly, "I don't understand... It's so much like him, rebelling...for... What? The Light has blessed and loved you." She sighs, "I don't understand." After a moment, she glances up again, "Does your...father...live then?"
"I don't know. The last time I saw him was when he...came to me. Six years ago. Even then, I...I hadn't seen him in years. Over the years, I've learned what he's done...but most of all, I know he serves the Light. Utterly."
"Who is he?" Sophie frowns, "What's his name?"
Gail's eyes rise to meet Sophia's. "His name is Michael...the Soldier's Saint."
"The...the...arcangel..." Sophie's eyes widen, as she gasps, "Your...father is the Soldier's Saint?!" She stares at the paladin in awe, "Wha...what... Why..." Sophie looks down, thoughts racing in her eyes, "...I...need time to think...to think about this."
Gail watches her friend frazzles at the name of her father, and she seems to slump, as if she's lost something. She nods in silent agreement, however, and gets up to leave, reaching out to grab the flap outside. However, the maiden stops, and turns to Sophie one last time. "Sophie...I know it isn't much...but thank you." She then leaves, the scuff of leather on dirt fading away.

Posted by: Aldur Wed Jul 02, 2008 1:29 am
Sulia paces around her cell, unable to wait any longer, she looks down at the shackles binding her, flexing and pulling repeatedly until they break, causing the demon woman to smirk. "Yeah, well, what about that other blue haired elf? The knighted wizard?" "Oh wow, did you hear her talking with some of the research wizards? What a bitch!" "Naw, I don't thin... Wait, what?" The two guards whirl around at the sound of Sulia's chains breaking.
Sulia moves swiftly and knocks over the bookcase, letting out a cry. She turns around, hands behind her back, attempting to look sheepish as she calls over. "Help me put the book case back up!"
The guards look at Sulia frowning. "I'd like to help, but we're not supposed to enter the cell unless it's an emergency..."
The other guard looks at the other one. "What's she gonna do, all shackled up?"
The first guard shakes his head. "Sorry, but the case isn't that heavy... You should be able to put it back up without much effort."
Sulia frowns as her guile failed to work. Shrugging she moves quickly back and barrels towards the door. Sulia strikes the cell door with incredible force and the steel barrier groans horribly, then breaks outward, striking the floor with a loud clang.
The two guards whirl around, their eyes wide as they see the prisoner escape.
One of the guards mutters. One of the guards sprints for the door opening it and running through in an instant.
Sulia frowns, running after him, opening the door and screaming out a great blasphemy, hoping to stun the guard. ((Blasphemy))
Though her foul word of power fails to reach the ears of the fleeing guard, the second one shudders and falls over dead at the sound. Sulia curses, taking a moment to survey her surroundings.
Sulia sighs, shaking her head, eyes peeled for an escape route as she moves swiftly onward into the next room, ready to cry out another vile word if required. She emerges outside, into the hustle and bustle of the fort still under construction.
Sulia smiles, taking the opportunity to take to the skies, more at home in that environment, ignoring the fort as she ascended, looking down at it.
A few workers nearby scatter as they notice you, but nothing too much seems to have happened yet. Sulia continues to ascend, going higher and higher, smiling to herself as she enjoys the air and the freedom she now had. She sees a few soldiers scramble down below, the general alarm having been sounded. A handful of archers take pot shots at Sulia, but they're all off by a mile.
Sulia grins, turning away from the base, and flies away from the fortress, her wings beating as she streaks through the air, thanking her good luck, Free of the fortress Sulia nods to herself, speaking a single word, the former Servant of the Light vanishing as she utters a single word. "Duty." ((Word of Recall))

Posted by: Knight_019 Wed Jul 02, 2008 1:36 am
placeholder for when I feel like editing this

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Fri Aug 08, 2008 8:09 pm
((Morgan is now level 19! Necromancer 3/ Cleric 3/ True Necromancer 13 +22 HP! +1 BAB! +1 FORT!
+1 REF!
+1 WILL!
Create Greater Undead goes up to 2/day!
Necromantic Prowess goes up to +4!
Learned a new Class Feature: Energy Drain!
Learned a new Feat: Fearsome Necromancy!
+1 Kno Ancients!
+3 Kno Arcana!
+6 Listen
+3 Search!
+2 Sense Motive!
+3 Spellcraft!
Picking new spells...
Gained access to level 7 arcane spells!
Gained access to level 7 divine spells!
Learned 12 new level 1 spells! (Benign Transposition, Blades of Fire, Corrosive Grasp, Obscuring Mist, Empathy, True Casting, Vigilant Slumber... Ehh, screw it. I'm done with 3.5e overgaming.)
Learned 12 new level 2 spells!
Learned 12 new level 3 spells!
Learned 12 new level 4 spells!
Learned 12 new level 5 spells!
Learned 12 new level 6 spells!
Learned 8 new level 7 spells!))

Posted by: Kaihaku Wed Aug 13, 2008 12:50 pm
Coventry reaches level 19 gaining Miracle four times a day. Sophie reaches level 19, gaining the ability to prepare Miracle three times a day. Ancient trees stand tall in the old growth forest, light trickling down through them from the sky above.
The Doctor stands at the side of a ritual circle drawn in the soft ground, until he finally looks up with a frown, though his eyes are amused somehow, "I wonder if it will work?"
"Wond... What?" Sophie exclaims, not at all amused, "You said this had a low chance of failure!"
"Yeah..." The Doctor admits a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, "But I never said anything about the chance of success..."
Gail watches the work from the shaded roots of a nearby tree, waiting for him to finish. The maiden stands, dusting herself off before she looks to her finance and his sister in turn. "It will work," she says, as if it had been decided, taking a look at the patterns that formed the gateway circle. A warm smile bleeds through as she raises her eyes to the pair. "At least...we'll keep trying until it does. Besides, it should be easier once we get past...this," Gail says, taking a glance to the flawless blue sky.
The Doctor wraps an arm around his beloved with a smile, kissing her gently on the forehead, "Of course, between the two of us and Sophie, we'll find a way." He chuckles, "Of course, most of that will be up to Sophie..."
Sophie scowls, even as a pleased light shines in her eyes, then she lets out a humph, "Thank the Light for that!" After a second, her eyes then narrow and she glances sharply at the paladin, "None of your blasphemy, you'll see the truth when we get to Celestia!"
The Doctor interjects with a grin, "If?"
Sophie rolls her eyes, stating firmly, "When." Then she smiles excitedly, "I want to meet my first archangel."
"They're overrated." The Doctor replies easily, "Just plain old half-angels are much more enjoyable." He glances at Gail and his eyes linger there, his arm tightening around her.
"Ahem." Sophie clears her throat loudly.
"No," Gail says, doubt causing her face to fall, before something stirs in her, "But we know where we will end. We'll return here, one way or another...with or without an army."
"You're all the army I need." The Doctor replies confidently.
Sophie rolls her eyes.
Cyrus: It saddens me to think this is the only scene where Sophie is witness to Gail and Coventry being like this with each other. It's funny.
Kai: It is. The three of them have a great dynamic.
Gail smiles brightly at the compliment, flattery or not, taking the doctor's hand and squeezing it affectionately. If one looked closely, one could swear she was shedding light. The angelborn stares in Alastor's eyes in silence before the task at hand pulls her back, a slight blush coloring her cheeks as she looked from the doctor to the cleric. "Um...is there anything that I need to do? Aside from stand in the circle, that is."
"I can think of a few things..." The Doctor begins, before a curt glare from Sophie cuts him off, "Well, later then."
"No, just stand in the circle with us..." Sophie replies, "This glade is a weak point in..."
"Isn't it more of a strong point, spiritually I mean?"
"Enough, let's just get on with it..." Sophie sighs, "My feet walk far and my feet walk fast, but they still got an itch for heavenly grass."
The Doctor chuckles, carefully stepping into the circle so as to avoid breaking the lines.
Gail mimics Alastor, remembering hearing something about how the lines were the really important part, which was helpful, since it was all lines. She takes care not to shift her feet, lest whatever carefully laid runes under her feet be wiped away, and, tightening her grasp on Alastor's hand, looked to the intricate patterns they were now standing on. "Sophie."
"Yes?" Sophie asks as she steps into the circle, she takes another moment to position herself before she looks up quizzically, "What is it?"
Gail takes a deep breath before she looks up to her friend with a warm smile. "Thank you...for everything." The paladin takes reaches out her hand to her, her palm up, waiting for it to be taken.
Sophie returns the thanks with a happy smile. Somehow, from the smile and the look in her eyes, Gail gets the impression that heretic or not, she's already considered family by the priestess.
The Doctor takes a deep breath, his eyes closing as he focuses...
Sophie begins to chant a prayer of power unlike any other, her own essence joining with divine might to trigger the impossible -- A Miracle.
Divine power and his own essence swirls around the Doctor, his eyes opening to reveal orbs of brilliant white light. "Hold on, this might sting a bit." He advises in a chipper voice despite the immense energy coalescing around him.
Liquid light pours over the lines drawn in the earth, the trees flashing with power, and then there is a flash of brilliant light. An strange presence is felt for a moment, then the light fades away leaving the forest as it had been... Empty.

Posted by: Cyrus Thu Aug 14, 2008 3:13 am

QUOTE (forgot some stuff)
Ancient trees stand tall in the old growth forest, light trickling down through them from the sky above. The Doctor stands at the side of a ritual circle drawn in the soft ground, until he finally looks up with a frown, though his eyes are amused somehow, "I wonder if it will work?"
"Wond... What?" Sophie exclaims, not at all amused, "You said this had a low chance of failure!"
"Yeah..." The Doctor admits a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, "But I never said anything about the chance of success..."
Gail watches the work from the shaded roots of a nearby tree, waiting for him to finish. The maiden stands, dusting herself off before she looks to her finance and his sister in turn. "It will work," she says, as if it had been decided, taking a look at the patterns that formed the gateway circle. A warm smile bleeds through as she raises her eyes to the pair. "At least...we'll keep trying until it does. Besides, it should be easier once we get past...this," Gail says, taking a glance to the flawless blue sky.
The Doctor wraps an arm around his beloved with a smile, kissing her gently on the forehead, "Of course, between the two of us and Sophie, we'll find a way." He chuckles, "Of course, most of that will be up to Sophie..."
Sophie scowls, even as a pleased light shines in her eyes, then she lets out a humph, "Thank the Light for that!" After a second, her eyes then narrow and she glances sharply at the paladin, "None of your blasphemy, you'll see the truth when we get to Celestia!"
The Doctor interjects with a grin, "If?"
Sophie rolls her eyes, stating firmly, "When." Then she smiles excitedly, "I want to meet my first archangel."
"They're overrated." The Doctor replies easily, "Just plain old half-angels are much more enjoyable." He glances at Gail and his eyes linger there, his arm tightening around her.
"Ahem." Sophie clears her throat loudly.
Gail can't help but to return the affection, wrapping Coventry in an embrace before he turns to his sister. When his eyes linger on her, she can't stop herself from blushing. "I don't know...this will be the first time where I'll be able to talk to him and remember it. I don't want to go through all this and be disappointed." The angelborn gives a faint grin to Alastor, then turns to Sophia, tilting her head. "Your first archangel? Sophie, you make it sound like an army's waiting for us."
"Um... Gail?" Sophie asks with a hint of disbelief, "The soldier's saint?" She laughs, "Of course there's going to be an army waiting for us! An army we can convince to fight against the Strife Lords!"
The Doctor looks at his sister, a flicker of worry crossing his face, then he sighs, "We won't what's waiting for us until we take the first step."
"No," Gail says, doubt causing her face to fall, before something stirs in her, "But we know where we will end. We'll return here, one way or another...with or without an army."
"You're all the army I need." The Doctor replies confidently.
Sophie rolls her eyes.
Cyrus: It saddens me to think this is the only scene where Sophie is witness to Gail and Coventry being like this with each other. It's funny.
Kai: It is. The three of them have a great dynamic.
Gail smiles brightly at the compliment, flattery or not, taking the doctor's hand and squeezing it affectionately. If one looked closely, one could swear she was shedding light. The angelborn stares in Alastor's eyes in silence before the task at hand pulls her back, a slight blush coloring her cheeks as she looked from the doctor to the cleric. "Um...is there anything that I need to do? Aside from stand in the circle, that is."
"I can think of a few things..." The Doctor begins, before a curt glare from Sophie cuts him off, "Well, later then."
"No, just stand in the circle with us..." Sophie replies, "This glade is a weak point in..."
"Isn't it more of a strong point, spiritually I mean?"
"Enough, let's just get on with it..." Sophie sighs, "My feet walk far and my feet walk fast, but they still got an itch for heavenly grass."
The Doctor chuckles, carefully stepping into the circle so as to avoid breaking the lines.
Gail mimics Alastor, remembering hearing something about how the lines were the really important part, which was helpful, since it was all lines. She takes care not to shift her feet, lest whatever carefully laid runes under her feet be wiped away, and, tightening her grasp on Alastor's hand, looked to the intricate patterns they were now standing on. "Sophie."
"Yes?" Sophie asks as she steps into the circle, she takes another moment to position herself before she looks up quizzically, "What is it?"
Gail takes a deep breath before she looks up to her friend with a warm smile. "Thank you...for everything." The paladin takes reaches out her hand to her, her palm up, waiting for it to be taken.
Sophie returns the thanks with a happy smile. Somehow, from the smile and the look in her eyes, Gail gets the impression that heretic or not, she's already considered family by the priestess.
The Doctor takes a deep breath, his eyes closing as he focuses...
Sophie begins to chant a prayer of power unlike any other, her own essence joining with divine might to trigger the impossible -- A Miracle.
Divine power and his own essence swirls around the Doctor, his eyes opening to reveal orbs of brilliant white light. "Hold on, this might sting a bit." He advises in a chipper voice despite the immense energy coalescing around him.
Liquid light pours over the lines drawn in the earth, the trees flashing with power, and then there is a flash of brilliant light. An strange presence is felt for a moment, then the light fades away leaving the forest as it had been... Empty.
The three are not seen among their friends again while the power of the Strifelords remains over Rune.

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Mon Aug 25, 2008 4:15 pm
: "Dam Dicem." The young traveler calls to the roguish leader of his old comrades, drawing nearer "It's been such a long time..." "I could say the same, Morgan," the rogue said, extending his hand. "It's been a long time... how have you been?"
Morgan smiles ruefully as he shakes the rogue's hand.
"So-so. Truth be told, I used to feel much more confused about certain things that were left untold. But now I'm here, and so are you." He stares at him intently, "It feels strange to speak with you again, Dam."
"Well, some days it feels strange to be able to speak," Dam said, nodding. "I didn't expect to see you again, after you left... why did you come back here?"
"...Left, uh?" He appears troubled for a moment, "It doesn't matter anymore who left and where to. The events that led to my 'departure'... escape me. Somehow, there is a blank in my mind where nothing has ever been, yet should have been." He shakes his head, insisting, "It doesn't matter." After a pause he asks, "Where are the others? Are they... alright?"
"Yeah... everyone's okay, although I can't guarantee it's going to stay that way after what's happening now."
The spellcaster frowns.
"Why... What's going on?" He asks gravely, looking around to the other leaders present, "Those are troubled times indeed... Do I arrive apropos?"
"It's a long story; the short version is that one of the few places still opposing the Strife Lords are being sieged, and we're heading over there to help them as best we can," Dam said, gravely. "A lot of the older Shining Force heroes are there right now; if they go down, our job gets much, much harder. So we're going to pull their fat out of the fire, and try not to get singed in the process."
"You can count on me then." Morgan answers voluntarily, "I wanted to find answers... But since I came here in such a time, I must help prevent the downfall of our world should it be possible. Or at least..." He looks at the silent catfolk sideways who pretends to ignore him, then back to Dam Dicem, "Enough innocent blood has been shed to add to this carnage. The devils, the Cult... All must and will be stopped."
The raven on his shoulder claps its beak.
"It's doing nature a favor." It says in common tongue.
"Morgan, you're looking as creepy as ever." The Doctor says with a smile as he turns from raising another ward over the group, "Whose that? Did you bring a friend for Kria?"
: "..."
"We met in the Elven Town of Parmecia as I was moving south." Morgan explains, turning to Coventry, "He remained there for shelter until fate united our paths." He looks at Dam, trying to avoid the subject, "Parmecia has been freed. I have also heard the news of a force that has set Volcanon free. Then I decided to look for Max, and my search led us here."
The gold furred catfolk now stares at the group attentively. Although his expression is not completely hostile, it doesn't look any friendlier than before.
Gail, having prepared for combat and running to meet the others, scans the inner barracks to find the others. When she picks Alastor and Dam out of the crowd, her brow furrows at the brown-haired young man they're speaking to, unable to shake the feeling that she knew him. As the maiden comes closer, a flash of memory skips through her head, and her eyes widen in shock. "Morgan...but how are you...After what happened at the Devil Fortress..." Gail stops herself, pausing before she shows a small, sad smile. "It's good to see you alive again."
"Likewise, Gail Haubrekt." He replies after his gaze crosses hers, "Gail... I wouldn't mind sharing what I know of my tale right now if it weren't for the present situation. As it happens, you all seem to have a battle to prepare, and I'm willing to lend you a hand on the matter." He looks back to Dam Dicem, "If you trust my help, that is."
"If I don't then I probably shouldn't say yes," the rogue said. "But I don't have any objections. Let's head out."
Then, he added, "But your friend... what about him?"
Morgan turns his head to the catfolk a moment, giving the lion looking humanoid a "it's up to you now" look. His eyes set back on the rogue's face and he nods slowly.
"He's the one who should decide on his future at this point." He states, "He has accepted to travel with me and hope guided his steps more than I did. He should be free to choose again when he's ready to do so."
He looks back to the catfolk, "You know what I'm talking about, Leonard."
"I do." Leonard states grimly for an answer. But even this deep low voice expressing little feeling naturally carries a bit of warmth to those that hear it.
"But am I ready for that..."
After a moment, he speaks again.
"I can't ignore the concerns of others. However I have... my own battle to win."
"Your battle is theirs as well." Morgan retorts, "Leonard, it's understandable, but you should leave the final decision up to your heart, not to what sways it."
The lion person stares at him hesitantly.
"But... How do I know that they will accept my help after..." He interupts himself, "I'm not like you who know them by name and face. I'm but a stranger to those people."
"We were all strangers at some point in the past."
The wizard smiles thinly.
"I told you how I feel about Dam and the others." He motions to the people present, "Shouldn't you ask them this directly and find your own answers?"
Leonard opens his mouth to reply back but nothing comes out.
"...That was silly."
He turns to face the others and walks in their direction.
: "I don't mean any trouble. Can I trust you with my life, people of the fort?... No, will you trust your lives to me?" He rectifies.
"Look.... I'm not saying that I'm not willing to give you a chance... but this isn't really the best time for me to be deciding whether or not someone's trustworthy," the rogue said. "I've worked with Morgan in the past, so if he's alright with you, then I'm willing to hear what you have to say. But for the time being, it's probably not a good idea for me to make a decision like this by myself, and I don't know how anyone else will feel about you staying at the fort. Maybe you can hang around somewhere nearby, then we come get you when we're done?"
Gail watches the exchange, frowning when the leader reaches his decision. "If he wants to be trusted, I can't think of a better way than to prove himself with us..." The paladin then rests a finger on her lips in thought. "We'll be splitting up for this...perhaps we could approach Cedric or Jim with this, and they could give him the chance he wants?"
"If they're alright with that, I am," Dicem said, nodding. Then, winking at the paladin, he said "Now, see... that's why there needs to be someone else besides me making decisions."
The Doctor rubs his head awkwardly.
Gail stares at Dam, caught off guard by the statement, before she shakes her head and looks to the ground. "Thank you, sir...but you
are a more capable leader than I am. You know that."
*Mahler hears the news late. Shade Abbey is under attack, and all forces are to mobilize at once. Mahler runs down the halls as quickly as he can, still adjusting to the effects of the Running Pimento on his natural speed. He bounds down corridors, nearly knocking over people in his way, but apologizing each time before nearly bowling over another servant or hitting them with one of his armor spikes. He sighs, fearing he might injure someone, but there is no time. Maybe he would have to put some more time into construction of the fort. Something else burned in his mind. He felt it was finally time, so that might have to wait.
In the court yard, he sees the groups assembled, and quickly picks out Dam Dicem. There seems to be more commotion in Dam's vicinity, causing Mahler to wonder what was happening. Were they given a special task? He approaches, then notices something odd. There were more people there than there should be. Also, a black cloaked figure stands with them, looking familiar. He had an unknown companion with him, but it couldn't be. Mahler runs over to everyone, which only confirms his suspicions.*
: MORGAN!
*In a move that would probably make Dam wince, Mahler charges over to his long-lost friend, and grapples him in a bear hug that gives audible bone-popping noises... though he had learned to be somewhat gentler when doing this. Mahler notices some discomfort on Morgan's face, then sets him down, takes a few steps back, smiling. They seemed like such happy people to be back.*
((Mahler rolls 1d20 + 2 = 4 + 2 = 6 on a SM. He thinks they are just HAPPY BUNCHES OF FUN.
STR Check: 1d20 + 9 = 3 + 9 = 12.))
: Where have you been!? *He asks, excitedly.* And who is your friend? *Mahler's attention then drifts slightly, his expression becoming ponderous.* And why do all the people we thought were dead keep coming back? *Mahler puzzledly inquires, looking specifically to Dam.*
((WIS: 1d20 + 1 = 1 + 1 - 10 = -8. He has no clue what's going on or how to handle this.))
The raven familiar takes flight just in time to not be crushed along with his master and lands on one of the girders supporting the ceiling. He lets out an indignant croak from his new perch.
"Hey, watch out you big brute." He reproaches.
Morgan tries to keep a straigh face despite the few angry aches in his skeleton after the winding bear hug of doom. He manages to give Mahler a weak smile while trying to catch his breath.
"It's nice to... see you around... too, Mahler..." He straightens up a little and points out the lionman, "This is Leonard. We arrived a short while ago." He shakes his head at the golem, "There'll be plenty of time for explanations later."
Leonard eyes the scene strangely.
"Um..."
Morgan looks back to him expectantly.
"I..." He begins, looking at Dam, then to the others, leader or not.
"I will join the fight, then. I've stayed in the shadows long enough. I will do my duty where I am needed most."
*Mahler puts his hands on his hips, glad to see the team back together. He almost wondered if Nail might come back, now, too. Mahler extends a hand to Leonard to welcome him.*
: Where are you from, and what do you do?
Leonard looks at the golem solemnly.
"I am from a little everywhere, although I have spent the most of my time in Elven Town until very recently." He explains, "I am a bard. The rest is not your concern." He finishes roughly.
"Oh, don't worry, Coventry... I didn't forget about you either," the rogue said, winking at the healer. "Anyway... if that's all settled, what say we all go about the business of heroics?"
"Agreed." Morgan answers, "Now that the matter is settled, I will help with the preparations before time runs short."
A thought occurs to him as the raven joins his former perch on the mage's shoulder.
"Dam, there's one more thing I have for you beside my presence here."
"For me? Oh, Morgan... I'm sorry, but I'm already spoken for."
He stares at Dam with a slight frown then shakes his head and laughs good-heartedly.
"The old Dam Dicem is still around I see... No, it's not about that." He adds jokingly.
He then heaves a cloth bag out of his own and hands it over to the witty rogue.
"I believe these are your belongings."
"Thank you," the rogue said, looking at the bag. "I didn't expect to see any of this again."
*Mahler looks on, glad for the reunion, but recalls more pressing matters as well.*
: Mr. Dicem, will Morgan accompany us to deal with the situation? We will most likely need all the help we can get.
"Yeah... and unless the other leaders have an issue, our fine furred friend will be making his star debut today as well," the rogue said.
"So you've come back from the grave as well?" Gilliam asks, tromping up to the risen necromancer. "We should form a club. That makes four... no, five of us."
Morgan's attention turns to Gilliam when this one arrives near the group. He appears troubled by the remark, but not too surprised.
"Gilliam... Yes, I've come back from... wherever I ended up after that fateful outcome in the forest..."
His gaze grows distant and he shakes his head.
"No matter how long this... condition lasted, it did not feel like death." He frowns, then looks back to Gilliam normally, "I pain to remember, and cannot do so past this point. Can we leave this talk for after your more current problems are handled?"
"Of course, my apologies," Gilliam says with a nod.

Posted by: Knight_019 Tue Aug 26, 2008 6:06 pm
((RAAHAAARGH GLORIOUS SPACER))

Posted by: Lord Oddeye Tue Aug 26, 2008 6:08 pm
((So I can post mightily.)) ~~Daring Night Time Raid (The PC Version)~~ Raid, in this instance, meaning a sudden short surprise attack followed by a swift expedient retreat and not the massive slaughter of an entire region's military forces. The day prior Coventry casts...
Polymorph Any Object: Enrick is now a birdman.
Polymorph Any Object: Coventry is now a pixie.
The night of Coventry casts...
Divine Insight: Coventry
Polymorph(Shrew): Coventry
The night of Enrick casts...
Invisibility
: "And is the word ready should we get into trouble?" Enrick asks the Doctor with as much of a grin he can form on his beak while looking up at the imposing, shadowy walls of Destonia castle.
The shrew pokes its head out of the birdman's pocket and lets out a muffled squeak.
: "Fantasbulous!" The birdman replies satisfied, "Then, let's head over this way... mmhmm..."
Enrick sets forth to look around for an idealy safe entrance in order to infiltrate the Destonia castle.
His luck avails him, someone has left a window opened despite the heightened security of the castle.
Enrick rushes into the opening stealthily and investigates the new surroundings.
He's in a nobleman's bedroom, yet no nobleman is present. These appear to be guest quarters of some sort.
Enrick stumbles and bumbles around the interior of the castle, and though it seems like he might run into a patrol or trigger some trap more than once, in the end he finds himself in front of the Treasury.
The birdman chuckles inwardly and flies in front of the door, his senses remaining aware of any noise or danger.
TheUnknownMarine: The treasury's door is closed.
TheUnknownMarine: Are you trying to open it?
Frowning, he tries to find a way around, looking for whatever might allow him access beside this door.
You look for a while, but there doesn't seem to be another way in. That doesn't surprise you. It IS a vault after all.
The noble birdman shrugs, facing the treasury door once more.
"Well then... Whatever happens, happens."
Slowly, he pulls down the doorknob.
: "Here I come, shinies!"
An alarm like that of a ringing handbell sounds.
Enrick hurries to cast a spell and goes inside to seize the shinies. Audible footsteps echo throughout the corridor leading out of the room he just entered.
Within the door is a small antechamber with three vault doors set to each wall. Enrick hears a rush of footsteps following the illusory sounds.
Trusting his treasure hunter's luck, he dives for one of the doors as fast as he can and tries to open it.
It's locked.
"Just my luck..." The treasure hunter damns, going for the one to his right instead. He freezes before reaching it though, an idea coming to mind. Swiftly, he grabs a pair of orbs from his bag and sets them into motion via a command word. Subsequently, he exits the room. Mere seconds after, the globes release a sound explosion.
The heavy iron doors bend inward but do not break.
"Tsk! Blasted doors." He complains after his plan fails to have the anticipated effect. In one last attempt to break through, the quirky nobleman targets the middle door from his spot as a transparent globe forms amidst his gesturing hands. He lets it fly towards the damaged door.
The door finally gives way, but Enrick hears footsteps nearing the vault.
Hearing the castle guard coming back for him, Enrick dashes across the antechamber leading to the path he just cleared to secure some loot.
Within the antechamber are a large number of locked coffers.
The birdman grins (Enrick is special) and grabs the nearest treasure chest with both hands. He then places it into his bag where it somehow fits and is nearly weightless despite its size. Then with a series of rapier slashes, the dashing birdman aims at the padlock of another.
Incredibly, Enrick manages to slice off the padlock
He opens the container and seizes the shinies.
A cloud of green gas hisses from an air bladder within the coffer, but Enrick is able to withstand the poison with no ill effect. With a clomp of armored boots, a contingent of six Destonian Spearmen barge in through the door at this point, a sabre-wielding officer behind them shouting, "Don't move!"
Still grinning, the winged swordsman leaves his prize alone for now to turn around and face his opponents.
"Why? Watcha gonna do 'bout it, pal?" He defies with a strange accent, "Gitoutta the way! I'm busy!"
"Yeah OK," the guards say, turning around and leaving.
((Lord Oddeye 23: lol))
"The penalty for trespassing on the Emperor's land is death! Charge!" the officer roars, the spearmen coming towards Enrick.
((DING!))
Enrick pulls out his rapier and directs the blade at the foes.
: "Hohoho! Try to dodge dis!" He taunts, his blade at the ready for an attack.
One of the soldiers screams as the nimble birdman dodges under his spear and opens up a cut on his side. The soldiers jab forward with their spears, but are no match for Enrick's battle skill.
Enrick dodges the hits easily enough and finds himself in an ideal position to retaliate against a soldier.
: "The spear might be mightier dan the sword..." The witty pounce begins, cutting accross the man, "But my rapier is in your guts!"
The birdman somersaults back and prepares for his next assault.
: "Arrright, who'd nest?"
He follows with a series of attacks focused on the soldier he previously wounded.
In a storm of thrusts, the soldier falls, his last words unintelligible due to the gurgling of blood in his mouth.
The soldiers encircle the birdman and jab with their spears once more, but despite being well trained, their luck is no match for whatever force looks over Enrick.
Enrick's wit shelters him once more as he dodges the last blow in an unnaturally beautiful motion and drives his blade into the careless soldier's shoulder in the process.
: "*birdsmirk* I guess I'm too pwetty to die. *chuckle*"
Next move, he guides his blade to rip through the enemy right in front of him.
Another soldier falls as the Imperial guard begins to look at the fencer with fear. They jab and thrust with their polearms as best they can, but only a single strike lands, lightly gouging Enrick's side.
: "Is tha' the best you can do, pal? Here lemme show you!"
Enrick counters with another three blows at the soldier that managed to hit him, one of which nearly strikes a vital spot. Nevertheless, the result should be the same after he's done.
One of the soldiers staggers back, heavily wounded, blood soaking his uniform.
"Scum! We'll show you the worth of the Imperial Guard!" the officer roars, issuing orders. The officer strikes Enrick with his sabre, dealing a light wound to the treasure hunter as his underlings fail to strike him once more. The wounded soldier leaves himself open as he attacks.
The daring adventurer unnervingly lands a blow on this man and turns his attention to the officer.
"You shouda thought it over before approachin' me..." Enrick's rapier dances as he avoids the other attacks and slashes repeatedly through the commander's chest, one fiery critical blow delivered at some point.
The wounded soldier keels over as the officer grunts at his wound, saying nothing as the group attacks again.
Enrick carries on with his sword attacks.
"Maybe you shoud pick another job..."
This time the commander falls, the other soldiers begining to fall back from the fencer.
The birdman sighs as he withdraws the blade from his corpse.
"Too late, methinks." He mutters to himself before proceeding back to his beloved treasures, uncaring for the fleeing soldiers. He begins to fill his other bag.
Enrick dumps the other coffer's contents into the bag as a group of white armored soldiers bearing greatswords enters the room.
He turns to the group and shakes his head.
"Tsk, sorry, you guys arready got served today! I'm outta here."
He attempts to cast a single spell, many copies of the birdman spawning to life.
The White Lords's strength and martial prowess serve them not as Enrick barrels past them before they even get a chance to raise their swords high.
The noble daringly turns back once he's out in the corridor and waves his arm as to say goodbye.
: "So long, suckers!"
A word is spoken. Next thing they know, Enrick vanishes from sight to reappear way out of their reach, back outside near Destonia's high walls. The birdman chuckles at this trick.
((Destonia night raid spoils:
2000pp
20000gp
1 moonstone worth 40gp.
1 huge blue diamond worth 7000gp.
1 topaz worth 400gp.
1 jade stone worth 70gp.
1 silver pearl worth 90gp.
golden statuette worth 5000gp.
40000sp
Enrick takes the diamond and gold pieces.
The rest is to share among the Destonia group at your convenience.))
Cinematic~~
By the time his features morph back to those of his original self, Enrick has long cleared the Destonia castle area. The fabulous burglar makes his way back to his home-sweet-home in a light step and mood, weighting a rippling full purse that contains a consistent part of the treasures he looted. It is not long before he reaches the portal of his mansion, the handsome treasure hunter laughing heartily as he walks into the courtyard and towards the gates.
: " *chuckle* Even the white lords, this was far too easy. They call empty corridors and incompetent guardsmen a security system? *chuckle* Well I'll be damned if- ! u-ugh..!"
The container falls on the loan noisily instead of hitting the palm of his hand again as suddenly, a stunning pain grabs hold of his entire body before settling to his forehead, and soon his whole head. Enrick winces and groans while struggling against his predicament, hanging his head with both hands and feeling like his head is about to crack open by the . Quickly, the pain becomes so intense that it makes him unable to stand. He falls down to his knees and lets out a long shrill cry amidst his suffering.
"Yes, yes you will." A familiar cold and hateful voice intervenes dauntingly.
The spectral form of late Duke Orick wavers to existence atop one of the nearby statues of unicorns, gliding down slowly toward a convulsing Enrick. His mean eyes set upon the shame of the Maerglecrows with high contempt while this one falls into a curled up position.
"It seems that you have disregarded my warning. And now you're suffering the consequences." The former duke continues with cold indifference, watching his son attempt to fight off the crushing pain, "I expected no less from you, but going so far as to foolishly steal from the very coffers of Destonia and claim the lives of its soldiers. This is an act of high conspiracy that has death for sentence as per the Imperial law, or don't you know by now?"
Eventually, Enrick's headache recedes. For a moment, he is left a weak, panting, trembling husk of sweets.
"Oh I know that you tend to ignore any form of lawful concept, but perhaps you should have remembered the rules before carrying your silly games to the heart of the nation you belong." The ghost pricks.
Still breathing heavily, the noble finds the strength to rise his head. Confused, he looks up at his father begrudgingly.
"Agh you...! What... did you... my head..."
Orick snorts, floating around.
"You're pathetic, son. You followed those foolish instincts of yours and escaped your punishment. Nevertheless, you were judged evenly for your crimes, and the verdict has fallen on your head. The sentence had to strike in a form or another... You deserve no less for betraying your home so."
Enrick tries to sit up but fails miserably, his muscles crippled with his lack of strength.
"How... Can't move..." The words come from his mouth weakly.
"Don't worry, this is a warning rather than a real sentence. The judge is fair. The effects will vanish after a while unless you decide to relapse such actions against-"
"How do you know about tonight..." Enrick cuts, so wearied that his anger doesn't reflect in his tone.
The duke frowns with an indignated expression.
"It doesn't take an especially well trained eye to notice where you came from and what you have done. Beside, I enjoy a very special bond with you now. I can move around you as I please. Free like air." He explains, though by the tone of his voice it doesn't sound like he's satisfied with it.
"You... You've been spying on me... And now you're torturing me like a...!"
"SHUT UP! Don't you understand yet?! Our family swore an ancestral oath, the very source of our ascent among the Imperials! The reason for our everlasting glory!!" Orick booms, "I'm not the source of your suffering! YOU are! You breach this oath repeatedly with your buffooneries against the crown and compromise your own interests! You cause your ancestors to stir in their grave, and now you're only hasting your demise!"
"YOU, only, caused me to return in this form. Do you think I came back willingly? Do you think I enjoy seeing you suffer? Don't you realise I'm bound to your mistakes until you atone for them and change your silly ways? Think again, Enrick! Think well and see where treason is leading you!"
Enrick doesn't reply at once. But when he does, only one word comes out after a weak laugh.
"...adventure."
"Wh- what?" The ghost stutters in surprise, "What are you babbling about?"
"Heh... I was never... cut out... to become an Imperial official..." Enrick continues in a tone filled with a weaker version of his usual demeanor, "Heheh... I always dreamt of... a life outside the monotony of the mansion... a thrilling life of adventures and riches... A life you... your ambitions... denied me..."
Duke Orick falls back and hovers down to ground level. He couldn't believe this.
"Nonsense... Even back then...! How could you think anything like that? I raised you with that very purpose in mind! You're my only heir! Who could have put these fancy ideas in your head?!"
"You... father... You did... You expected far too much out of me..."
Orick freezes in place.
"...And you simply tossed too much on my shoulders... With your ideals, your duties... your patriotism sickened me... I didn't need any of this ultimately..."
The ghost remains dead silent. He, of all people, never noticed how his unyelding paternal rule had affected Enrick in the very opposite way of what he had hoped for him. No... It just couldn't be. There had to be a mistake...
"But... I ignored my feelings and chose to live the life you had chosen for me... I did it for you... for mother... not for an Emperor whose rule is biased. I kept up for years... But after you passed, it couldn't be helped... I tried, father... But this life was simply not mine to embrace like you did. I carved my own path differently than those spoilt nobles and became what you despise most: a free spirit...!"
Not even the most vicious rapier trust could have had such a potent effect on the duke, even during his life. The words strike him so hard that he finds himself at a loss for an answer despite the many arguements there was to be about Enrick's faulty attitude. Knowing the reason, after this long, was far worse a truth to bear than facing the defection of his son in his unlife, especialy for the caring father he was.
"Is that so... But, it doesn't change who you are, Enrick. Sooner or later you will have to face the evidence and live up to your rank. Not just my expectation, but that of the Emperor himself! You cannot fail us at this point! You will, or you will die trying to oppose the Great Empire!"
"The great Empire... Us... Then I choose death over unfairly imposed duty. This way... I have more chances to live my way out of Domaric's clutches!"
"How dare..."
"That's enough out of you.... Leave me alone with my "punishment"... You're worried that I claim more of their lives and riches, aren't you huh? That I dishonor your "rank" some more? Fine, I won't lay another finger on the Empire and his goons if that's what bothers you."
"Hmph... The nerve. And I should take your word for it after you crossed that line once already? You're a fool if you think that I-"
"No, father." Enrick cuts out, "You are the fool... Who is haunting a losing battle. The "Great Empire" will fall to... The Shiny Force."
Orick says no word, looking shocked.
"My dear friends... They will put an end to Domaric's reign... Sooner or later... This is bound to happen as long as he keeps wronging the comoners..."
The duke remains ever silent but scowls at Enrick darkly.
"This is all that's to be said. Now go away... please..."
After a moment of thought, the ghost shakes his head slowly.
"No... No this is not all. This isn't the last time, Enrick... I'll find a way... I'll find a way to get you back onto tracks before it's too late for you to be redeemed in Hell! It is my duty to turn you back into a true Imperial, and I will carry out my duty!!!"
Soundlessly, the ghost of Duke Orick vanishes into the dark as he came, leaving Enrick lying on the ground.
The noble's mouth stretches into a weak smile.
"Father... I've never been an Imperial at heart... or didn't you listen...?"
And after these family matters, Enrick van Maerglecrow retrieve his purse, casts an Invisibility spell on himself and slowly crawls back into his mansion and back into his bed unnoticed.
The night passes and Enrick's strength grows back after some rest, although this is hardly a complete recovery from the curse he suffered the previous day. The Destonia group returns just in time to participate to the Bedoe mission to free Volcanon.
Or has it already taken place by then? I forget. Lol.

Posted by: Knight_019 Sun Oct 05, 2008 1:41 am
((Part 1 of things to come)) The former Royal Guard to Queen Anri waits anxiously for their leader Ivellas to announce their next course of action as the centaur knight emerges from the Tech Knight base. "He'd been in there a long time..." Felix says anxiously, "Maybe we should go check on him."
Myala paces back and forth with her arms folded behind her back. The elven priestess stops and turns to face Felix when she hears him speak. "Please do not fret over this Felix, I am sure that Ivellas is just fine. Besides, we were told to wait here." Myala turns away and starts pacing back and forth again. Still, I wonder what's taking him so long..., the priestess thinks to herself.
Nortiln floats silently, spectral arms folded. He is careful to stay out of the flickering lamplight. His red eyes settle on the halfling.
: "Ivellas... can take care of himself."
Septimus speaks up, quietly but firmly. "He would have let at least one of us know if something went wrong," he says. "The telepathic bond is still in place," he adds, reminding them.
*Septimus, Garudaos, Nortiln, and Daran all receive a message from Ivellas, who at the moment was returning through the caves to rendezvous with his force.*
: "Mission successful. We have reached an alliance with the Tech Knights. If you have not done so, rendezvous and we will discuss this further."
*Kyuu notices a visible difference in each of those under the telepathic bond, as though they were in thought, and he begins to get excited, anticipating that it might be a message from Ivellas.*
: What's going on!? Is he coming out? Is he? Is he!? Ooooh, I just can't stand waiting!
*The easily excited kitsune's fur flickers colors as a flame in the wind. His fire magic begins to upwell in him, echoing his excitement and anticipation in his outward appearance.*
*A few minutes later, Ivellas sends another message to each of those under the telepathic bond. He could see the exit looming like a point of light quickly growing larger before his eyes.*
: "I'm just before the cave's exit. I'll be out in a moment. Get everyone ready, as we must discuss plans now."
*Shortly thereafter, Ivellas is out of the cave and finds his battalion eager and ready to go. Some still shuffled about anxiously, others stood silent, staring in steadfast devotion, waiting for Ivellas to tell them what had happened and what their next assignment was. Ivellas, too, felt excitement. They would take the fight to the Strife Lords in the name of Queen Anri and Guardiana. Their city would soon be avenged, and he had just the place to begin. Another town oppressed by the legions of the cult was nearby.
Once Ivellas appeared, those shuffling about quickly fell into order.*
: Guards of Guardiana, I have good news! We have reached an agreement with the Tech Knights, who will consider us allies for now. They still require that we prove ourselves to them, but they have given us information regarding the state of the fight against the Cult.
: As you may expect, most of Rune is overrun by these forces of evil. However, Shade Abbey is a safe haven, and Prompt is continuing to hold the Cult at bay. Our primary goal should be to fight toward Shade Abbey in an attempt to meet with our next potential allies. We know there are other groups as ourselves crusading about Rune and fighting against the Strife Lords, thanks to Myala's divining, and I believe that Shade Abbey may be home to one such group.
*Ivellas pauses a moment to collect himself, then continues. He was already getting excited by the big reveal... but not just yet. He couldn't give it away too soon.*
: The Tech Knights would require some information from us. Felix... *Ivellas looks at the Halfling swordsman, then gestures to the crystal about his neck.* They would like to examine your crystal. They have more working knowledge of how things like it work than we do at the moment, and we could stand to learn from them. The Cult appears to be constructing more towers about the country like what we encountered in Guardiana. These towers... *Ivellas stops suddenly, but is unable to find a way to break this gently, then continues.* These towers seem to work in the same way as the gates of Guardiana and Protectora. The gates were sealed for a reason you all know, and the Strife Lords must be seeking to unleash those demons on the world once more. For this reason...
*Kyuu throws his hands in the air, unable to believe what he was hearing.*
: NOOOOOO! YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! THAT COULD DESTROY THE WORLD, AND... uh... it could... DESTROY... EVERYTHING ELSE, TOO! WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT, OTHER THAN BAD!?
*Kyuu throws his hands to his hips as fists, stands that way a second, then suddenly gets an inquisitve look on his face and scratches his head. He was so confused.*
*Ivellas gives his people their chance at gasps, shock, and rage for the moment, then gets to the big surprise. He wanted this so badly. He wanted it for his city, for his people, and most of all, for his father. The grudge between him and the Lords of Strife was far from over. It never would be until his lance found itself embedded in Erebeus.*
: For this reason, we're going to be liberating Bustoke! The town is under the control of the Cult, it is nearby, easily defensible, and it is on our way to Shade Abbey. We have stayed long enough in Mechanis, we must yet prove ourselves to the Tech Knights, and the townspeople are under the control of an evil force. I believe it in the best interest of all that we take Bustoke back from the Cult's control. If anyone has any objections, voice them now.
*Ivellas smiles, happy to take the fight to the Strife Lords for once instead of waiting for them to strike. He gives everyone a chance to respond, hoping their opinions would be ones of shared excitement.*
Nortiln's form wavers at the mention of Bustoke. He floats a little higher, and his eyes shine brighter.
: "When do we move?"
Septimus remains characteristically silent as Ivellas outlines what he'd been told. The wizard looks relieved that they'll be moving out soon though. Despite the potential usefulness of the brewing he'd been doing, the fumes were beginning to agitate him, to say the least.
Jath does something rather uncharacteristic for him... He talks. "Let's show these tech knights just what we can do." The centaur states with a nod to Ivellas.
((I know I've mentioned it a bunch of times in chat and such, but Jath needs ammo, consider this me making an official note about it, we need to have our tinker make it or buy it, I'll those that know the deal with it to decide, just let me know what happens or Jath'll fire bundles of arrows at people instead.))
For 100 gold, Daran makes Jath 30 bazooka shells. (6d6 damage as I recall.)
*Prestle shakes his head calmly.*
: "No objections whatsoever."
Looking his commander in the eye, the dragonman simply nodded. No words were necessary, on his part; his desire burned like the same fire he could unleash on his enemies, and he felt as though they had stood still while the rest of the world - Cult included - moved at an incredible rate.
It was time to catch up.
*Ivellas crosses his arms and smiles. Hopefully there should be no problem securing the town from the cult. While Bustoke is built into a mountain and quite defensible, they had advantages that others didn't.*
: Then, to answer Nortiln's question, we move as soon as everyone is ready. We'll discuss our strategy on the way. If there are no other questions, everyone prepare at once.
*Everyone is given one last chance to speak their piece, make suggestions, requests, or otherwise, and then the call is made for the Blackhawk to prepare to return to Mechanis for final preparations. If Mechanis could afford it, they wouldn't do this alone.*
With the speed of the Black Hawk at their disposal, it's only a day's flight back to Mechanis. The burnt city bustles with activity as tinkers swarm over buildings with tools and supplies, attempting to fix what was broken.
*Upon re-arrival at Mechanis, Ivellas is off and running. So much to do, and yet so little time. The infiltration would have to be planned quickly. The cult most likely wouldn't see a sudden offensive coming, especially from his troops. As soon as everyone exits the Blackhawk, Ivellas tells everyone what their goals are to be in the time up to the battle.*
: Everyone, we have a lot to do to prepare for this assault, and I will need you all to move as quickly as possible to begin the operation. Septimus and Myala, I need both of you to work together to scry on Bustoke. Find out what its defenses are like. Solomon, you should go with them as well. Your knowledge will help them better understand what they find.
: Garudaos. Take Felix and Kittera and try to find information about the surrounding area. The people of Mechanis, though still most likely weary, may know more about Bustoke's state and the Cult's movements in the area. We have to know what we're getting into.
: Prestle, Jath, and Nortiln. Your job is to also gather information, but this time regarding any underground movements within Bustoke. If any of the villagers -- or better yet, Shining Force members -- are still in Bustoke but have fled into the caves, we may have help. Nortiln, your job is important, since you will be infiltrating the town tonight. Harass the enemy while they sleep. Your stealth will be a great asset. Remember that. All six of you, however, should report to those scrying if anything you find can help them locate someone of importance within the city. Everyone will report to me before we move to finish our plan of attack, so don't feel like you have to run to me with the first thing you find.
: Kyuu and Daran, you're both with me. We need to let Holkstein know we'll be leaving, and I'd like to requisition him for possible aid. Now that you all know your duties, let's move!
*With the last statement, Ivellas throws a fist into the air, rallying everyone around for a "Huzzah!"-like cheer. This would be it. Do or die, now or never. They would take back the continent from the Strife Lords town by town, person by person, fight by fight.*
With a nod to Ivellas, Spetimus smiles. Two weeks ago he would not have been able to scry, but during their stay he had learnt the spell, as well as gained access to a suitable mirror. "It will be difficult to actually scry Bustoke, as the spell focuses on people, not places," he says quietly. "Still, I suspect we've both been there before," he goes on with a glance to Myala. "If we attempt to locate somebody we've met there before, we might be in luck. Oh, and Ivellas. These are for you to give out as you see fit," the wizard says. "I've made good use of my time the last two weeks you see," and he hands over a leather bag that clinks. "I've labelled them so you know which is which."
[Inside are: 3x potion of blur (CL5), 3x potion of heroism (CL5), 4x potion of invisibility (CL5), 2x potion of mirror image (CL6), 3 x oil of keen edge (CL5)]
*Ivellas takes the bag from Septimus, happy that the wizard had been hard at work during the downtime.*
: Thank you, Septimus. These should be most useful.
*Already pumped at getting to throw fire around some more, Kyuu throws both of his arms into the air excitedly, flailing around and running in place.*
: WOOOOOOO!
*Overly excited, Kyuu eventually calms down once everyone starts to walk off toward their respective tasks. He suddenly has a thought, however, regarding their own assignment.*
: Uh, boss... I don't want to be a downer, but... uh... are we really going to get help? I mean, it's been a while, but Mechanis is still putting itself back together. They've always been neutral and behind the scenes, too. I'm not so sure this is a good idea...
*Ivellas had similar thoughts. However, if there was one thing he was never short of, it was hope.*
: That may be true, Kyuu, but we have an ally in Mechanis, whatever that may mean. We stayed after the battle to help them rebuild. I see no harm in asking for aid, be it man or machine, from the city. If they refuse, then so be it.
: Ooooh... I guess you're right. Just give me a chance to cast Blaze a couple of times, ok!
*Ivellas laughs at Kyuu's outburst, then rests a hand on his shoulder.*
: I don't think that will be a problem. Daran, what do you think, though? *Ivellas says, dropping his hand back to his side.* What should we expect?
Daran shakes his head.
: "I really don't think they'll give you anything... and it seems a bit rude to ask, given the devastation the city underwent," Daran says, quietly.
*Ivellas purses his lips and places his hand on his chin, resting his head in it. He half expected this, but he also hoped that even if they were unable to help, they could be pointed in the direction of someone or something else. Hailing from Mechanis, Ivellas trusted Daran would know the sentiment of its people, so that idea would be out.*
: It's surprising how long buildings take to finish here. I guess I'm still not used to buildings that are as mechanical as they are dwellings.
*Kyuu looks sullenly at the ground, and kicks some dirt and rubble around, ho-humming as he goes.*
: Do you know of anything here that might be, say, borrowable that would be useful before we move out? Even a library that might have information on Bustoke, the quarry, or an index of anything related to people, places, or things, since the town is nearby?
"Yeah, the library might have some records," Daran says with a nod.
*Kyuu's ears perk up upon hearing another possibility.*
: Excellent. Let's head over right away.
*Kyuu lifts his head once again, a big grin on his face.*
: You got it! *Kyuu then begins running hurriedly in the direction of the library, or at least the direction he thinks it's in. He nearly stumbles over his robes a couple times, then lifts them a bit from the ground so he could move unimpeded. A few seconds later, he realizes he has no idea where the library is. He skids to a halt, then turns around, looking sheepishly back at Ivellas and Daran, the former lifting an eyebrow in his direction, not sure what to make of the foxman's antics. Kyuu waits to see what direction they begin to head, then hustles back to them.*
With a sudden thought of inspiration, Septimus rushes after Ivellas. "Ivellas, I just had an idea," he says, slightly breathlessly. "My bond with Zip has recently strengthened," and the tiny pseudodragon flies out of the hood on the wizard's robe. The purple, iridescent familiar hovers in front of the centaur leader and chirps animatedly. Supressing a smile, the wizard goes on. "I could teleport him to Bustoke, and then scry on him there. He's almost impossible to spot when hiding and has excellent vision, even at night. What do you think?"
*Ivellas turns from his just finished conversation with Daran and Kyuu, now ready to head toward the library. The pseudodragon hovers in front of him, and while he was far less familiar with the creature than Septimus, he trusted the mage's decision.*
: I have no problem with you doing so. Nortiln will be in Bustoke as well. As long as you and... Zip, right? *Ivellas gestures to the colorful flying creature with his left hand as a loose fist and index knuckle slightly more open as though gesturing for it to land on his hand, though he hardly expected it.* As long as you can accept the dangers that might come with doing so, as I understand your attachment to him, then by all means do so.
Septimus nods to his leader, still smiling. "Yes, his name's Zip," he says. He then focuses his eyes somewhat, sending a mental prod to his familiar. With another chirp, Zip floats foward and settles on Ivellas' outstretched hand. Now with a perch, the tiny dragon begins to preen himself, continuing to twitter spiritedly. With a fond and lopsided grin, Septimus carries on calmly and more firmly that usual. "Yes, I can accept the dangers, and so does he. After all, that's the world we live in, isn't it? And plus, I've told him to be careful."
: Then you may do as you will. *Ivellas makes a motion with his hand, prompting Zip to return to Septimus.* If all goes well, I have another request to ask of you. However, I would like to withhold that until after we've finished assessing the situation first. Feel free to take your leave.
*Kyuu finally makes his way back toward Ivellas and Daran, noticing they'd been stopped by Septimus. At least he didn't have to run that far or fast to make it back to them in time. Zip flies from Ivellas' hand back to Septimus, and Kyuu scratches his head, slouching slightly as he thinks.*
: Hey! Why don't I have one of those!?
Hopping up against from his perch on Ivellas' hand, Zip flies back to his master and settles comfortably on Setpimus' shoulder, his tail wrapped part way around the wizard's neck. With a nod to the centaur, Septimusturns and continues to grin fondly as he regards Kyuu. "Not every sorcerer or wizard, has one," he says to the foxling. "I myself didn't befriend Zip until only a few months ago, as it happens." He pauses and shifts slightly uncomfortably, unsure whether to go on. "When we're done in Bustoke, I could outline and explain how to summon one," he offers unsteadily.
*Kyuu crosses his arms, then uncrosses them to deruffle his robes and straighten them so they're comfortable, and then recrosses his arms, thinking.*
: Uh, sure! But only if it can make fire and burning and flames!
*Ivellas smiles, but they had work to do.*
: We have much work to do yet, so let's be off. Septimus, we wll be in the library if you have any further questions.
"I could come too, if you like," Septimus offers. "I don't have anything else to do until tonight, and can't brew any more potions. Plus, I'd like to see the Mechanis library anyway"
*With that, Ivellas has Daran lead them in the direction of the library so they could get a better feel for how Bustoke is laid out.*
=====
Nodding, the dragonman headed through the damaged city of tinkers, saying his hellos to those who recognized himself and the others with him from the battle waged there not long ago. Hoping to gather as much information as possible, he conversed more fully with them, taking in what they were willing to tell him, and answering what questions he thought would best help them in their current endeavor. Time was of the essence, and the sooner Bustoke could be removed from the shadow of the Cult, the better.
((Gather Info 17; if either Felix or Kittera's checks are higher, he'll simply use Aid Another instead. If no one else takes actions, then assume they attempt to aid another to increase Garudaos' check.
Boost to 19; the following info is given...))
Speaking to those who chose to devote themselves to reviving the technological achievements of the Ancients, Garudaos finds that the people to which he speaks know little, besides the fact that the Cult used Bustoke as a springboard to launch their campaigns into the Pao Prairie. However, the assorted rabble, complete with Cultists as well as a few Demons, found themselves unable to defeat the stout defenders of Pao. It did the dragonman's heart proud to know that the people of the place where his relative fell remained strong, and continued to fight the evil around them. If, as few as they are, they could stand, it proved even more strongly that even Garudaos and the few in number that remained from Guardiana still had a chance to fell the Strife Lords and their dark hordes.
Felix trots off to do the task assigned him and questions many a folk in the great city, though most of them just ignore him. He is walking through an alley when he notes a human coming his way, "Excuse me, sir?" He hops, "What do you know about Bustoke?" The human doesn't answer, continuing to trod forward, "Ah...sir?" The human continues forward as Felix squeaks in a panicked voice, "SIR!?" There is a squashing sound and the human pauses, glancing around, "What was... Oh man, I got halfling all over my shoes! Gross." The Doctor leans down to wipe the goo from his shoes with an orison, before teleporting away.
Nortiln hovers silently in the room the tinkers provided, even though he had no use for it. Laid out on a neatly made bed are the birdman's earthly possessions: a beautifully crafted sword and shield that manage to catch all the light the dim room can offer, and then some. They'd been in his hands the day he took the job, the day he realized there was more at stake than a commission, the day he died...
Until earlier today he hadn't been able to touch them since the Labyrinth. His hands passed through them like they did everything else. But he found that he could concentrate, and the ephemeral amorpha of his form would solidify a bit, and he could move things, and pick them up. He still couldn't feel them.
Floating in the mists of his hand is the ring Ivellas had loaned him for the mission tonight. It would make him as impossible to see as he was impossible to hear. What he was debating, while he stared at his sword and shield, was whether to take them along as well, to carry them into battle as he had in the past. He reaches out to touch them, and then recoils. No. Not now. Not like this. He would touch them when he was whole again, when he was himself again. He was starting to forget what it was like, to have a body. That terrifies him.
A fly buzzes past his head. Idly Nortiln lifts his arm and the insect flies right through it. Its wings stop midbeat and it spins out of the air, landing with a tiny crick on the floor. No. He knows what he will do.
He catches Ivellas the next time he sees him in the dim hallway.
: "I'm ready."
Walking down the hallway, Septimus nods and offers a nervous smile to the birdman. "Zip will be going with you," the wizard says quietly, and his familiar chirps. "I'll be able to scry on him from here, and we can see what's happening. I'll teleport you both to the Mechanis teleport unit, and you can go straight from there." The wizard begins to chant quietly, and strokes the pseudodragon softly, who promptly disappears from sight. The invisible familiar takes off from his perch and tries to land on the wraith's shoulder. Obviously unable to do so, he chirps again, and just hovers sightlessly. With a smirk, Septimus, begins casting again. After a few seconds, Nortiln and Zip vanish, instantly reappearing at the teleporting station.
[Gather Information: 1 + 0 - 10 = -9]
Felix forgets more than he learns as he gathers information on Bustoke.
Taking the information he gathered, Garudaos returned and reported it to Ivellas. Then, expressing his desire, he said, "Sir... I wanted to find out more information on the status of Pao. Even though I no longer seek to live in the shadow of the General, but I do still worry about the people he spent the last of his days with. By your leave, I intend to spend the rest of the time we have until our departure searching in this manner."
((After checks, the Gather Info check for Pao ends up being 36, with Ivellas' actions a few Aid Another actions. Furthermore, the next check he makes is a Knowledge [tactics] check on the combat in the area, which becomes 37 after Aid Another checks.))

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Tue Dec 02, 2008 11:29 pm
<{[ Week 2, Day 2, at sundown ]}> The rogue stalked through the forest, his stealth training only improved since he'd begun the journey. He neared the place where his body was supposed to have been, where they'd placed what was left after he'd been killed... and found that he was not alone.
A woman kneeled there, her head clovered by a thick cloak. Dicem couldn't make out the words, though it was not what she said that caught his attention; based on what he'd heard from the guards, he was buried very near where she knelt, if not on the exact spot. Ducking low, he made virtually no noise as he slipped through the cemetary, stopping just behind her as she spoke.
"-asn't how it was supposed to be, Double D," she said softly. "You weren't supposed to keep doing the hero things... and you certainly wern't supposed to die."
"How do you know that name?" the rogue asked, stepping out from behind a gravestone. His eyes scanned every inch of her form, everything about her seeming more and more familiar... until she moved.
She stood up and turned in one fluid motion, placing both hands on the rapiers hidden under her cloak. The hood fell away, revealing angry, tear-reddened eyes, framed by blood red hair that seemed to be running like water in the dying light, and a mouth upturned in a grimace... until her own eyes met those of the rogue and she staggered back, startled.
"No... you... I..." she stammered, backing away.
"I don't believe it," Dam replied, standing dumbfounded.
"I shouldn't have come," she said suddenly, pulling the hood up as she turned and moved to the treeline. Stopping, she turned and said, "Don't look for me, Cedirc... please. For your sake."
"Wait... but-" he began, starting towards her... only to stop short, as she stepped into nothingness.
"Damnit," he said, clenching his fists. "Damnit, Kysha... what the hell is going on?"
Knowing that he wouldn't be able to track her down in the middle of the night without more help, he took one more look at his grave, then at the spot where the woman disappeared, before the power of his boots carried him away from the place.

Posted by: Knight_019 Sun Dec 07, 2008 2:31 am
A few hours after the battle against Shailtor... : "Sir Ivellas? Is that really you?" Anri asks, approaching the centaur through the falling snow. *Ivellas looks up from surveying what he presumed would be his new base of operations. The familiar voice cuts through the air as easily as the bitter cold, yet it warms his heart knowing that they had not failed.
Ivellas had not seen much of his Queen since the battle. Perhaps he had unconsciously avoided her, fearing that, indeed, he had failed. They had been busy, they all had. Now was the time to discuss what had happened since they parted.*
: "My Queen!" *Ivellas says, turning to face her fully, then giving a curt bow to her.* "We have returned to find you once more."
: Anri laughs lightly. "I suppose you have... It is good to see you survived... After I regained my senses, I feared you died at the Swarm's hand. How fare the others of my guard?"
*Ivellas looks down, recalling the past months. He shakes his head as memories both good and bad return.*
: "We've all fared better than expected, to be honest. We've also had unfortunate losses. Granit and Rue were killed in defense of Mechanis. While there, we made contact with the Tech Knights, who aided us in Guardiana. From there, we traveled to Bustoke, liberating its people from the grip of the Strife Lords, though more brave soldiers gave their lives or terribly injured. Solomon was blown apart, though Daran is working to rebuild him. Jath was downed in a rockslide, created by their wizards, and though he survived, he was maimed, vowing to stay behind and guard them for the time being. Kiterra was similarly injured, though we are still unsure whether she will make it. Then Nortiln..."
*Ivellas is forced to give pause here, realizing there was much she didn't know. This story was still raw in his own heart as well.*
: "Nortiln, perhaps, suffered worst of all. Prior to visiting Mechanis, we came to Thornwood. In its renowned Labyrinth, Nortiln was first slain by a terrible wraith. Horribly, he rose again, a twisted effigy of his former self, a wraith. We returned him to his senses, and he began to gain control over himself. We thought we had found a way to even return him to his former self," *Ivellas says, still getting to the issue. He coughs, part from the cold, and part because he hated the outcome.* "He volunteered to go into Bustoke the night of our raid, preceding our entry, demoralizing their troops, and keeping them from their rest. Unfortunately, it worked too well, attracted too much attention, and he was destroyed in front of us as we entered the scene," *Ivellas sighs.*
Anri's face goes from happy to grim as she takes the news in stoic silence.
: "We must look on the postive side of things, then. With the enemy's relentless assault, it's a blessing any of you survived at all, though if my memory serves, your skills no doubt had a hand in that as well."
: *Ivellas allows himself to crack half a smile.* "As always, the others have as much a part of the success as anyone. Mechanis remained whole in part because of a gamble. As second in command, Garudaos was given control of half our forces. They've all fought valiantly, and they all deserve a hard-earned break once this is over. What is the current situation at hand?"
: The queen sighs. "Which situation would you know about? you know as much as we about the state of Rune. On Grans, Cypress, and Parmecia, the Cult's back has been broken."
"The Destonian Empire has chosen this time to stir up trouble, but they are occupied with the Aspinian Republic. The cult doesn't seem to have an active hand anywhere but here."
*Ivellas furrows his brow. There had been one constant in his journey. His duty to his queen was paramount, but in that lay duty to his country. While this had become --- or perhaps had always been --- a global affair, his resolve was unfettered.*
: "My first priority has always been to the city of Guardiana and the people of Rune. However, whatever our target, I will go where I am needed as my Queen wishes." *Ivellas watches the snow continue to fall, accumulating on his armor and in Anri's hair.* "Perhaps we should move this inside, where it is warmer?"
: Anri waves her hand. "Does the snow bother you? I'm used to it, but yes, we can go inside if you'd prefer it."
*Ivellas lets out a short, hearty, and deep laugh, smiling happily in a way he hadn't in a long time.*
: "No, no... I should know better. My apologies," *Ivellas says, calming some and getting back to business.* "Where were we... At the Abbey was a face I never thought I would see in my life. You were actually successful in raising Max?"
: Anri looks down, "He... never died."
*Ivellas' eyes open wide, simply shocked, solely speechless. In fact, his jaw might have even begun to drop.*
: "The spell was miscast, ended up marooning him on Parmecia, where he wandered for a time... Before stumbling on Mishaela and her plans to ressurect Darksol," Anri says, quietly. "So he spent the next twenty years tracking her and her forces down, foiling them as best he could at every turn." Anri shakes her head. "It's a long story."
: "I... I believe it," *he is able to respond.* "Nothing about this has been simple. You've all remained unharmed as possible, I can only hope."
: Anri turns her head. "I was rescued... But I don't think some of the others that were captured made it out."
: "Who else was taken?"
: "Lowe, Luke, Earnest... That was all I knew of when I was there," Anri says.
((OH SHI-))
: "Can they still be rescued," *Ivellas asks, concern yet disgust and anger in his voice. The Strife Lords deserve no trophies.*
: "I would think so," Anri nodded. "But they'd be in their Citadel... I do not think a rescue attempt would succeed without a lot of preparation."
: "Then we will prepare."

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sat Feb 21, 2009 1:26 am
((It's been a long time, so I thought I'd compile a list of the resources you have at your disposal at the Fort.)) Fort Resources: Undeveloped natural resources: >Abandoned Silver Mine. Structures:
>Defensive Wall.
>Hidden Defensive Artillery.
>Living quarters for all heroes and NPCs
>Armory
>Stables
>Technological R&D Complex.
>Mess Hall and Kitchen
>Training Complex.
>Chapel and Meditation Garden
>Small prison
Allies:
>Boken, expert scout. Capable of gathering a great deal of information on an area very quickly. No prerequisites, can be used immediately.
>The surviving First Shining Force. No prerequisites, can be used immediately. Available for training or combat allies from time to time.
>Stella, expert sage. Requires Library to be finished, and favor to be paid before use. Can research independent topics or give a +4 assist to the research efforts of other characters. Charges a fee.
>Elaine, healer of Mitula. Combat ally and general healer. Level 14 Cleric.
>Yeesha, Cypressian archmage. No prerequisites, can be used immediately. Helps defend fort, gives +2 research bonus to those she helps, or can research an independent topic. Level 20 Wizard.
>Rachel, Cypressian Ranger. Able to scout and also serves as a combat ally. Level 14 Ranger.
>Fire Elder Elemental Honor Guard. Combat ally.
>The Zooklings. Research, engineering, and enchanting teams. Can produce technological items and enchant them to a limited degree. Greatly aids tinkers working with them on projects.
>TechnoPaladin Honor Guard (2): Combat ally. Excels at taking physical punishment, but is vulnerable to magic. Level 16 Paladins.
>Yang, Apprentice Merchant. Allows purchase of Swiftjoke wares. Required: Warehouse construction completion.
Shops:
>Kria's Custom Magical Items and Bangle Emporium: Kria has openly advertised her ability to craft magical items for others.
>Daran, Tinker at Arms: Daran, while working on repairing his combat suit, has openly offered to make/modify technological items for the Force with the help of the Zooklings.
>Swiftjoke Branch Office: Not yet built.
>Engineering Outpost: Adam Wierzbowski, Viletta, and a few technicians from the Vagabond upgrade and repair the gear for the few GDO characters still in the game. They use the money given to them to buy the materials they need from Derrik.
((I may have missed something, but I believe that's everything, since Alex's followers have yet to show up.))

Posted by: Alpha Sun Feb 22, 2009 3:52 am
Max is walking along the battlements of the wall Coventry raised for the Fort before his departure, seemingly deep in thought. It’s just over a week since Talacre’s awakening from Shailtor’s curse like nightmare. He’s feeling mostly restored, but the edge of training is dull, and he needs to sharpen it. So, kitting up, he searches out for Laeral so they can spar. Heading to some of the battlements where he knows his wizardly brother has been helping with construction, he comes across Max.
“Ah, the Hero of Light himself,” Talacre says cheerily as he approaches the swordsman. “Mind if I join you?” he asks.
Max looks up. "Ah... You're Talacre, right? Yes, of course."
Talacre almost grins in delight that Max knows of him. “I’m honoured you know my name,” he says with a smile. “What brings you up to the battlements this day?”
"Inspecting them. It's been a slow day, I thought I'd examine the defenses in place."
Talacre nods. “The Fort certainly is coming along quickly,” he notes. “Speaking of, you wouldn’t have happened to see another green haired elf in the area?” he asks.
"You mean your brother?" Max asks. "He's helping to build the library, I think."
“Yes, my brother,” Talacre replies with a frown. “Shame, that means he won’t be in the mood for a spar.” The elf pauses a moment before continuing. “Um, would you maybe spar with me?” he asks almost hesitantly.
Max thinks for a moment, then nods. "All right. There shouldn't be many people in the training rooms, so we can go there, pick up a practice sword or two."
Tal nods, and heads with the Hero to a training room. He draws his starmetal blade and sets it against a rack, picking up a practise sword of a similar size and shape.
Max does the same with the Chaos Breaker. He walks across one of the sparring rooms and falls into a combat stance. "You ready?"
Talacre arcs his makeshift weapon in a couple of practise swings whilst he begins to sway slightly, entering the dervish flowing rhythm. “When you are,” he replies.
The elf then darts forward, hopping and bouncing around the place, swinging several strikes at Max. Two get past the Hero’s defences, and now his assault has played out, he withdraws to ten feet from Max, hopping about as he does so.
((Dervish Dance entered, full attack, 2 hits, 58 damage))
Max seems to shine with divine energy for a moment, then tightens his grip on his sword and charges, unleashing a single sword stroke on Talacre. The wooden sword taps Talacre hard in the ribs.
((Surge: Divine Might. Action: move and attack. 28 damage))
Talacre winces at the sword comes in, and retaliates, this time working a lot more defensively. His inactivity though shines through, two strikes going horribly wide. He manages to use one to his advantage, leaning into the swing to score a single hit on Max.
((Fighting defensively. One hit, 28 damage))
Max winces as he is struck, then smiles as he simply puts his hands on himself, glowing with divine energy. The wounds fade. Max closes his eyes for a moment and chants a swift series of arcane words as power crackles around him. His eyes snap open as he points at Talacre. Bolts of lightning crash into the elf, ravaging his body and draining his strength.
((Surge: Lay on Hands. Bolt 4: 100 electric damage. Due to the training room's special nature, all spell damage in here is nonlethal))
Talacre winces heavily as the magic hits him, also twitching slightly as the electricity courses through him. “Very impressive,” he comments wryly, before rushing back into the fray. As he moves forward, his bracers shimmer slightly, and his attacks come quicker. This assault proves to be much more accurate, and a particularly nasty strike make its way in. The elf stays in melee range of Max this time, not wanting to get electrocuted again.
((Activate Bracers of Quick Strike for a haste attack. 3 hits, 1 critical, 1 miss. 140 damage))
Max grunts as the attacks force him back. "Im.. Impressive..." Max clicks his heels together, suddenly moving in a burst of blinding speed. The wooden sword smacks against Talacre's form again and again despite the agile elf's skilled footwork. Nasty bruises begin to form.
((3 hits, 1 crit, 1 miss))
The bruises prove to be more than nasty. Tal falls to his knees, his training sword clattering to the ground at his side. “And that’s me done,” he wheezes.
Max puts his hands on his knees, breathing hard as well. He grins at the elf. "If I hadn't healed myself, I'd be in your position, I think."
“Tricks of the trade, hm?” Talacre manages to get out. He smiles despite himself – the Hero’s words made him feel better. Not that he had truly expected to beat a warrior such as Max.
"Yeah..." Max says, offering a hand to the elf. "If you'd kept up the hit and run, I think you'd have won."
“It usually works,” Talacre agrees, taking the extended hand. “But I didn’t want another burst of electricity,” he says with a laugh, now back on his feet.
"Yeah, Bolt magic is useful for swordsmen like us," Max says, helping Talacre up. "People get afraid of taking you at a distance so they make the mistake of closing to melee." Max grins. "Which is of course where warriors like you and me shine."
“Unfortunately, I don’t have my brother or father’s knack for the arcane,” Talacre replies with a smirk. “I can manage a few simple spells, but that’s it. But you’re right; making people come to you in combat gives a big advantage.”
"Well, that's what teamwork is for," Max says with a laugh. "Judging from the way your brother tosses walls around, he shouldn't have a problem throwing a foe your way."
“An interesting and intriguing thought,” Talacre agrees. “Though I usually manage to get to them first. I don’t like to brag, but I’m hard to match for speed.”
The ghost of a smile tugs at Max's face. "I can't believe that."
“What?” Talacre retorts. “The brag, or the speed?” he asks with a laugh.
"The brag," Max says, laughing. "I was hoping to trip you up on that. Your wits' not too slow either."
Talacre chuckles. “Well, I learned from a master. My brother’s pretty sharp.”
Max nods. "And we're glad to have both of you on our side."
“My thanks,” the elf replies gratefully. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find Laeral.” He replaces the training sword and re-sheathes his starmetal blade. “Many thanks for the training session, Max,” he says.
"Thank you," Max says. "I needed the workout as much as you did."

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sun Feb 22, 2009 3:55 am
Laeralas is helping to telekinetically lift a wall into place as he hears a feminine clearing of the throat behind him. "Ahem." Laeral smirks, but doesn't turn around, continuing his magical telekinesis. "Good day, Stella," he says cheerily. "I was wondering when you'd come find me."
"Funny, I was wondering when you'd get this 'grand library' done," Stella says, looking over the construction. "But it appears you've only now just begun."
"Better now than later," Laeral says as he places a giant slab in place with his mind. Releasing the spell, he turns around to face the beautiful sage. "And I was looking after my brother for a while. Took up my time," he adds with a pause. "Anyway, what can I do for you?"
"I'm wondering when I'm going to get the rest of my payment," Stella says, airily. "It wasn't that much a matter until I got bored. Without the library or anyone purchasing my services, there's not much for me to do around here."
"So what would you like me to do?" Laeral replies, mimicking her airy tone.
"I'd like you to pay me. An item of interest, I believe was agreed upon, wasn't it?" Stella asks. "With all your group has seen and done, I hardly think finding something sufficient would be that great a bother."
"I also believe I gave you an ancient keycard, which you said would account for most payment," Laeral retorts. "Anyway, I've been busy, as I said. I can ask Alex though, to see if anything's been found that might cater to the remainder of your payment."
"Yes, you did, and yes, it did," Stella says. "Please do that. Something... steeped in lore would be nice. A fragment of a scene history will immortalize. Something like that would fit the bill in a most literal way."
"I see," Laeral says flatly. "Anything else that might be adequate?"
Stella shrugs. "Surprise me. If you have anything else that's unique I'll give it a look."
"Ok, I'll do that," Laeralas replies. "Failing anything else, I could always take you to one of the historically important places our group has been."
"Which would be?" Stella asks, tilting her head.
Laeral shrugs. "Megiddo, maybe?" he offers. "That's where I found the keycard." He pauses, an afterthought hitting him. "Though I think some of those star travelers sealed it." He shrugs again. "I'll think on it. I've been over most of Rune, so there's bound to be somewhere."
"Well, when you have something in mind, let me know," Stella nods.
"I'll do that," he says, and then signals the construction workers that he's leaving. "Good day Stella," he adds with a slight bow before heading off to find Alex.
"Good day."

Posted by: Alpha Sun Feb 22, 2009 3:17 pm
Coming straight from the library construction site, Laeral searches out for Alexander. Sighing in frustration, he quickly casts a haste spell and is soon zooming about the fort at double the speed. Eventually he comes across the hero on his way to the commons.
: “Ah Alex,” he says, dismissing the spell. “Exactly the man I was looking for.”
*Alex turns his head to see Laeralas, who seemed to be in a hurry. Alex tilts his head.*
: "Hello, Laeral. Is everything okay?"
: “Yes, everything’s fine,” Laeral replies, back to his normal speed. “Want to ask you something, regarding Stella. Got a few minutes?”
: "Yes, of course."
: “Apparently, she’s bored because the library isn’t finished yet,” Laeral says with a smirk. “So she’s asking for the remainder of her payment. Have we come across anything ‘steeped in lore’ that might cater?” he asks.
*Alex frowns and shakes his head.*
: "I'm sorry, Laeral. I haven't been following that as of late. Maybe one of the others have seen or heard about something like that."
: “Hm,” Laeral hums contemplatively. “Any idea who to go to? Failing an item, I did say I could take her to a historic place we’ve been to in our travels. Any suggestions there?”
: "Hmm...Well...no, that wouldn't work. And I don't think the elves would want any visitors. Shade Abbey she could visit at any time. Come to think of it, that has a nice library of books. Umm...I really don't know. Nothing comes to my mind, anyway. I'm sorry."
Laeral shrugs.
: “No worries,” the elf says. “I’ll ask around. Thanks Alex, I’ll catch you later.” The elf then sets off, continuing his search.

Posted by: Knight_019 Sun Feb 22, 2009 4:25 pm
*The defeat of Shailtor should have left a cleric of Volcanon more than enough relief to sleep well at night. For all his struggles against the darkness of the many-eyed fiend, Aurik's night terrors had only grown worse over time. Every night the same, terrifying vision taunts him, memories of a time that seemed long ago. Each night he had these visions, he awoke knowing that what had happened was far different, and that he had been dreaming, but nonetheless he sprung up from the bed at each end and was dripping with sweat, shivering.
Aurik falls asleep, passing seamlessly from the waking world to the dream world. The first images are of a deep forest shrouded from the outside world. Not long is he in the forest before the Fairy Woods come in view, otherwise hidden from the outside world. He and his companions step into the secluded village, but before they can move elsewhere, the ground splits. Fire and ash erupt from the fissures, and slowly rocks begin to separate each warrior from the other. Rolling out of the way as a crevasse begins to open beneath his feet, Aurik rolls out of the way, leaving him in the open as the walls begin to rise. A shout to Volcanon for aid provides his allies with some boon to go to their individual fates, but no more. All are sealed off, and Aurik is left looking at the form of a floating Lich. Laughing mockingly with his otherwise expressionless face, the death wizard takes his leave, vanishing, expecting each of the Cypress Expeditionary Force to meet their doom in his trap.
The sounds of battle become immediately apparent, even over the sounds of fire and groaning earth. The slavering jaws of ghouls, the clanking of armor, the impacting of hammer against steel, and the skittering of bones tell only the beginning of the stories of the untold horrors in store for each of his friends. With a yell, Aurik beats relentlessly on one of the stone structures blocking his way, wishing to aid his friends in their time of need, but the spire would not yield. Aurik was alone, powerless to help the others, but not finished. Unsheathing his morningstar, Aurik walks away, seeing the forces of the village caught in their own struggles. There he could do some good.
In what seemed like an instant, the cleric passes the distance, whether far or not, to the ongoing battle. Before he can join the fray, Aurik is surrounded by fire springing forth from the ground, walls of flame as high as his head barring his path. At first the walls are close to him, leaving little room to maneuver. Sweat begins pouring down his forehead, the heat near unbearable, and the flames bright, obscuring his vision. Looking for a way out, Aurik begins to chant for protection from the flames, yet before he can finish, they begin to recede. First slowly, then rushing outward the flames crawl away to create a large, square arena around him. Fighting proceeds at the edges, some taking a moment to view what was transpiring. Most ignoring it in light of their own struggles. Skeletal and other undead warriors clash against the Elves and Dwarves of the forest, locked n battle while Aurik, once again, was left with no recourse.
The cleric had no time to dwell on his impotence of battle thus far. To his side, opposite where he was looking, Aurik hears the clanking of a fully armored person approaching. Turning in its direction, he sees a dark shape behind the flames growing ever larger, ever louder. Wavering more and more, the form approaches closer, yet becoming more visible. The shape of a tall, ornately armored person is seen behind the flames before it steps through, unimpeded by the wall of blistering heat.
The figure is a man without helmet, and skin paler than the moon overhead. His dark black hair accents the midnight color of his exquisitely crafted armor. Jagged shoulder guards and overlong plates at the joints add a pointed appearance to his form, all juxtaposed with the swooping, elegant, curved reliefs adorning the mail. The man shakes his head, sending his long mane flowing back behind him. A few steps forward reveal the man, unlike Aurik, was not perspiring, neither intensely nor at all, and with a wide, toothy grin, acknowledges Aurik while the cleric's heart drops. A priest of Volcanon, the Lord of the Sun, the Scourge of the Undead, should know what he now faced. Spinning his mace to the ready, Aurik watched as the heavily armored vampire brought forth his own weapon: a stylized flail.*
"Cleric of the fiery one, it is good to see another of your kind on the field of battle," *The being mocks. Bringing his shield to bear, he revealed his intentions to have a full melee, and continued,* ""It's been a while since I had the pleasure of killing one..."
*Wasting no time, Aurik utters now familiar words in retaliation,*
: "Foul creature from the pits of hell! I shall cleanse you with holy fire direct from its Lord Himself!"
[i]*Wasting no time, Aurik begins the battle at once, opening with a ray of searing light powerful enough to give the armored cleric pause. The exchanges begin once more. Powerful blasphemies whose utterances cause light servant's body to tremble and his mind to glaze over issue forth from the vampire cleric, and the first attempt at Aurik's neck begins, though Aurik snaps out of his daze quickly enough to knock his opponent away.
The two exchange blows for some time, positive and negative energy flowing forth from their hands, words of power and beams of light and darkness traded between the two. Aurik calls forth a ring of silvered blades and the power of his lord's holiest of energies to protect him, while the vampire calls forth unholy fire to scorch the servant of the firebird, though the technique hardly proves effective. The vampire begins to call protections upon himself, and Aurik strips them as pulses of holy energy tear away at Venethetrion's being.
the battle wears on, the two caught in a battle of immense skill, neither seemingly able to gain ground over the other. With unholy speed, the vampire cleric charges at Aurik, throwing caution to the wind and passing through the ring of blades and pulses of holy energy with abandon. Terribly weakened, Aurik knew he could finish this fiend once and for all. With a swing of his mace, Aurik tries to knock the vampire away once more, but this time is different. The vampire fades, shifting around, and Aurik's morningstar catches naught but air. From behind him, Venethetrion places Aurik in a headlock, moving into a strangle hold. Concentrating with all his power, Aurik attempts to throw out a final blast of holy energy. He had almost won, and this fiend would not have him. The holy pulse issues forth, causing the vampire to shake.
Something goes wrong. The pulse is weak. Venethetrion still stands. A terrible gleam glosses over his eyes, and his pupils flare red. The vampire's fangs elongate, and the undead cleric opens his mouth wide, then sinks into Aurik's jugular, letting his lifeblood flow forth, running down his neck and into the gravestench of Venethetrion's mouth. Not finished, Venethetrion whispers a final utterance into Aurik's ears, backs off gently, and in a short span of time that seems like an eternity, twists Aurik's head, snapping his neck. Aurik drops to his knees, then slumps to the ground. All of this he watches from outside his body.
Aurik was not dead, however. Slowly, he pushes himself back to his knees, then up to his feet. His arms crossed, Venethetrion simply laughs. Aurik felt the urge to draw his weapon, but could not muster the strength to do so. Some force stopped him. The vampire narrows his gaze, nodding elsewhere on the battlefield, and Aurik feels a terrible urge. The once-cleric of Volcanon snaps his attention toward the fighting outside, focusing his gaze on an Elf outside the wall of flames. With a hiss, he leaps through the air, mouth agape, both in horror and in malice.
Aurik snaps awake just then, sitting straight up in bed, drenched in as much sweat as he had been in the dream. Once again he had been spared the terrible imagery of becoming an undead, blessed with the powers of undeath instead of the boon of his Lord. The sun was just beginning to rise outside, Aurik up early again and ready to prepare for the day.
Today would be different, however. He was tired of these dreams. These taunts. The nightmares would stop.
When he last fought Venethetrion, the vampire had discorporated into mist, fleeing, threatening to return. The undead cleric still walked, and Aurik could not let that go on any further.
Aurik had been empowered by Shailtor's defeat, and now it was time to finish what had begun long ago.

Posted by: Alpha Sun Feb 22, 2009 11:43 pm
Tanis stands on top of a hilltop, a mile or two out from Fort Ordalia. He’s leaning heavily on his staff of defence, staring out into the distance as the heavy mountain air rushes through his mane and robes. Though gazing out at the fort and mountains, his mind is elsewhere, contemplating the past, both near and distance…
The first memory is a happy and distant one. It’s one of travel and constant movement. A very common occurrence when the catfolk was younger and still lived with his tribe. The catfolk way was a nomadic one after all, fraught with excitement and adventure. And despite their area of drifting being between Pacalon, Tristan and Moun, a fair amount of danger still popped up now and again. Nothing the tribe couldn’t handle though.
Tanis shakes his head, flicking hair out of his eyes, wondering why that memory came to mind. It’s probably come to mind as they’ve been in Ordalia for quite some time now, with not much moving around. The issue hadn’t come up during their travels looking for Max, and then their journey after that resulted in the battle of Megiddo. But now…the catfolk sighs. He’d experienced a similar situation before when he joined warmage college…
Despite the vastness and busy life one can find in Moun, training to be a warmage left no time for experiencing city life. Unlike wizards, study didn’t come into it. It was all about intensive training, both physical and that of the mind. At first the restrictions on his nomadic nature had been almost unbearable, but fortunately he became more accustomed over time. And two years wasn’t such a long time. And time well spent. Tanis didn’t just know the spells he could cast – after all the rigorous training; they were rooted in his unconscious, accessible at almost any time.
Still, nothing compared to the feeling of freedom he felt when he finally left. Even though it was six months early (and having to take a stack of books with him to complete training), he had no regrets.
Tanis sighs again, but it isn’t one of melancholy. It’s one of happy nostalgia.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sun Mar 01, 2009 2:23 am
((So close, yet so far.))

Posted by: Alpha Sun Mar 01, 2009 2:24 am
Talacre is sat on a low branch of one of Fort Ordalia's few trees, maybe two or three feet off the ground. His long courtblade is dug into the ground next to his swinging feet, but otherwise the elf is as fully equipped as ever. "Hey! Talacre, right?" a female voice calls out.
The elf turns around, looking for the speaker.
The woman in black from the outsiders walks up to the tree, looking up at the elf. "That's yer name, right?"
“Yes, that’s me,” Talacre replies, recognising Sheila, though he hadn’t yet talked to her since he joined his brother and Alex’s group.
"Mind if I ask you a question?" Sheila asks.
Talacre shrugs. “Sure.”
A look of exasperation comes over Sheila's face. "How in the hells do you move so FAST? I've got all sorts of training and cybernetic whatcha ma-jiggers and I can't come close to your speed!" Sheila says, spreading her arms for emphasis. "How do you do it? No matter how much attention I pay when you train or fight, I can't see how you do it! What's your secret?"
The elf laughs lightly. “Magic,” he says simply. “Though not the usual kind, like a spell.” He pauses a moment, searching for the proper words. “More of a…permanent and focused effect from some highly specialised training and studying I received a few years ago,” he explains.
"So you trained yourself to use magic to boost your speed?" Sheila asks, tilting her head.
“More or less, yes,” Talacre answers. “Magical talent runs in my family, you see. I’ve just put it to a different use than my brother and father.”
"Ah..." Sheila says with a frown. "So you can't like, train someone else to be as fast as you are. Cause it's something to do with your bloodline."
“No, somebody else can be trained,” he says. “You just need some specialised combat skills, along with some magical talent. Even if that talent is minimal.”
"Really? What kind of combat skills?" Sheila asks.
Talacre breathes in, a contemplative look crossing his face. “Hmm. Well, good dodging ability, as well as decent movement in combat. You have to be able to jump and roll around fairly well too,” he says. “Oh, and you need to be able to use one of these,” and he picks his courtblade out of the ground, displaying it. “All that along with the magic.”
"OK, I got most of that..." Sheila says, pointing to the sword. "But this I don't get. How does wielding a sword make you run faster?"
“It’s part of the training. Under this discipline, a sword is more than a weapon. It’s more like a companion, also acting as a focus for the talents this path offers.” He shrugs. “Though I have never heard of anything but swords being used in that regard, I don’t see why another weapon should be out of the question.”
"Hmmmm...." Sheila says, rubbing her chin. "I don't suppose you've got some spare books or something on the subject, do ya?"
Talacre laughs again. “There is one that contains a chapter outlining the discipline, but it isn’t here, its back home. I’d have to get Laeral to take me there and get it from our village library. Shouldn’t be a problem though, if you’re truly interested.” He pauses a moment, his voice intensifying slightly. “I would point out though, that it isn’t necessarily something to undertake just for the rewards. It’s more than that. There’s a spiritual component, and it’s about turning everything into an art.”
"Huh?" Sheila asks, looking confused. "What do you mean?"
“It’s…it’s hard to explain exactly,” Talacre says with a sigh. “The chapter in that book would be able to outline it better. All I can really impart is that it’s more than just training – there’s something deeper to it.”
Sheila winces. "Can't I just... take the run real fast stuff and skip the rest? Look, I'm already into the whole 'shoot stuff is an art' philosophy, but EVERYTHING as art? That kinda sounds like it'd get pretty tiring pretty fast."
“I’m sorry, Sheila,” Talacre says, his tone truly apologetic. “But it doesn’t work quite like that I’m afraid.” He shrugs again. “Still, I’ll get the book for you, and you can overview what it says. That is, if you’re still interested.”
Sheila shrugs. "Yeah, I'll have a look. At worst I'll just get a better understanding of another combat school. That ain't bad all by itself.” Sheila frowns. "Hey, why you up in that tree, anyway?"
Talacre nods. “I’ll go find Laeral and we’ll get hold of it for you. Shouldn’t take more than two days. He’s been helping with construction, so he might not have a teleportation spell readily available today. As for being up in the tree, I was just reminiscing on a memory brought back by my brush with Shailtor.”
Sheila shudders. "That can't be pleasant... Why... Oh wait, do you mean brought back normally or one of the ones he, you know, pulls from your brain and plays with in front of you?"
“Actually, it’s not as bad as it could have been,” he replies. “It’s from one he tried to play with, but actually it was what allowed me to break free of the nightmare.”
"Oh? You actually managed to use it to break free?" Sheila asks, intrigued. "That's pretty impressive. What was it?"
“My brother and I never got along when I was growing up,” the elf explains slowly. “The memory was the time when we finally became friends. But it could have turned out much worse.”
Sheila winces. "I can imagine... But hey! You got through it OK!"
“That I did,” Talacre agrees with a smile. “And I’m extremely thankful for it.”
Sheila shakes her head. "I think we're all going to sleep a lot easier now that that spidery creep is demon dust."
“I can safely say that I wholeheartedly agree with you,” Talacre says. “Two down, only one to go now. And not just the Strife Lords – the Ur Priests too, if I remember correctly.”
"Oh yeah... I completely forgot about them after all the Strife Lord hubbub," Sheila says, nodding.
“Understandable, considering what else has been going on,” Talacre replies, also nodding. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find my brother. Once I have that book I’ll come find you,” he says.
"Thanks a bunch!" Sheila says with a smile. "Hey, we'll have to train sometime. If I can get my head around the book, maybe I can drag you into teaching me some of that fancy footwork!"
“Of course,” Talacre replies, matching Sheila’s smile. “Catch you later.” With that, the elf swings his courtblade into its sheathe in a single deft movement and heads off to one of the construction areas where he knew his brother to be.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Thu Mar 05, 2009 9:59 pm
Two weeks after Shailtor. The time? 2 PM Michael is nonchalantly floating around as an excited voice suddenly catches his attention. "Hey! Hey Mike! Hey!" Michael turns around to see Sheila running towards him and he waves in response. "What's got you excited?"
"They've got construction on th' dorms completed! Everyone's finally moving out of the tents and into the nice, warm fort!" Sheila says with a grin. "Plus I've heard rumors that as thanks for our aid in this war, our rooms are just that... Ours! We get to keep them! Anytime we're in the area, we've got our own little corner of home!"
"It's only four walls and a roof..." Michael sniggered at this, obviously amused. "And I quite like being outside, and I wouldn't call the fort overly warm, unless you're hanging out with that crazy cat girl who can spontaneously combust. Ah well, beds are good thing though."
"Are you kidding? It's freezing out here!" Sheila says, waving her arms to indicate the snow covered mountains all around.
"I can handle cold too, but just because I can handle it doesn't mean I ENJOY it."
"I have wings made out of light. They tend to keep me warm. Pity for you though." Michael jibed back at her.
Sheila shakes her fist at the warlock. "You wouldn't be so smug if I had my own wings... Maybe I'll go find some someday!"
"Just run up to someone and rip them out or?" Michael laughed at this. "I better go tell Bedoe to watch out."
Sheila laughs. "I'll figure something out. You picked a room yet? I called one of the ones on the top floor with a window. Got an awesome view, and you can go onto the roof!"
"Yeah, I have one of the ones on the mid level. Means I'm less likely to get stuff stolen." Michael nodded sagely
"Bah, who'd be stupid enough to steal from us?" Sheila says, waving a hand.
"Us. We have several Rogues and shady streetrats like myself." He grinned. "High level room? Well that's ok, means you just have to suspected those who can fly."
"Bah, we don't need to worry about that. Honor among thieves or something like that," Sheila says, shaking her head. "Besides, all our shady types are too occupied thinking of ways to steal from the real juicy targets like the cultists or the Empire."
"Your overconfidence is your weakness." Michael responded shaking his head with a laugh.
"Is it?" Sheila says with a grin. "Maybe it's my strength!"
"Still doing it." Michael responded, sticking out his tongue. "I wonder whats happening next? I'd like to head to Aspia and give the empire a good kicking personally."
"I think we're laying off the Empire for now to focus on the Cult," Sheila says, nodding. "But I've got no doubt we'll be back there before this whole thing is through! We're not ones to leave a job half done!"
"Oh yeah, because everytime everyone leaves the empire alone it always works to their advantage. Isn't that right Margaret? Tristus? Algernon?" Michael comments darkly.
"Hey, we're not 'leaving the empire alone'! We're letting the Republic wail on them for a bit and get some of that crispy hot vengeance!"
"And if we helped the Republic, they'd owe us, then assist in the upcoming fight against Shailtor." Michael sighed.
Sheila sighs, "Look, I don't know, OK? I'm not so good at the grand strategy, but I trust Jim, and the other leaders seem to all right. They've prolly got their reasons."
"Yes indeed, One force lost theirs awhile ago, I don't know Jim, Dam Dicem seems terribly unhinged and then we have Alex. Who while calm seems to have a whole slaughter all the demons chip on his shoulder." Michael grinned. "But oh well. It'll all end soon enough anyway I guess. We're the good guys."
"Yeah!" Sheila says, snapping her fingers. "We can't lose! Oh, and I think Jim was looking around for you, by the way. He's checking up on everyone since the Shailtor attack, making sure no one got too messed up."
"I'm fine. If that was the worst he could do I'm afraid I'm not impressed." Michael grinned wider.
"Now who's overconfident?" Sheila says with a grin. "Anyway, I'm hoping someone sets up another treasure hunt at some point, or something like it. I wanna get some stuff to customize my room with, but all the loot from the big battles goes right to the quartermaster."
"Just go explore then!" Michael suggested. And he shrugged. "But more personal money would be nice. I guess we all have expenses."
"Yeah... I guess at least we get a load of benefits. Weapons, armor, gear, food and board..." Sheila shrugs. "All free."
"Well not free." Michael pointed out. "There's the whole save the world dealie."
"Oh we'd have done that anyway. Really, when the other option is, 'die horribly', what else would you do? Hey, what are you going to do with your room? I'm thinking of putting up a bunch of war trophies in mine or something. I saw Melissa's and it was just spartan as heck, heh."
"Get drunk?" suggested the warlock child. "And as for my room I'm not too fussed. If I see something I like I guess I'll put it in there."
"Eh," Sheila shrugs. "I'm a bit excited about it since most of the places I've lived in have been barracks or ship bunks. An actual room that's mine is a really cool change of pace after all that, y'know?"
"Waa waa. Didn't you sign up for it?" Asked Michael curiously
"Huh? What do you mean?" Sheila asks, blinking.
"You're in the army or something yeah? So you signed up for your little barracks and stuff?" Pointed out the Warlock
"Well, I signed up for other reasons," Sheila frowns. "Being stuck in barracks isn't really a perk, ya know?"
"I guess not. I guess not. Still, beats being dead. Or being diseased. Or some other things not coming to mind right now."
"Well hey, it beats a lot of things. Still not as good as a room of yer own," Sheila says, nodding. "Hey I'm not complaining too much. Trying to fall asleep in the streets sucks, a bunk is much better. But a room is better than a bunk. Nice to have an upgrade."
"Don't sleep in a street, instead try to find a porch, it works better, and you're a bit more out of sight. And it's a tiny bit warmer." Michael nodded sagely
"I'll keep that in mind, but thankfully, don't have to worry about that anymore," Sheila says nodding. "Though I remember makeshift lean-tos seemed to work well 'nough."
"But then you can get attached and they're attractive targets for passing soldiers." Michael smirked.
Sheila shrugs. "Meh. Depends on the area."
"Wanna have a contest in Destonia then?" Michael asked with a big smirk
Sheila puts up her hands. "No thanks... I LIKE not having to worry about that sort of thing anymore."
Michael giggled at this. "Booorrrrriiinnnggg."
"What? Hey, I'm not boring, YOU'RE boring!" Sheila says, pointing at Michael.
"Oh yes. How could that possibly lose." Michael sighed in disappointment
"This isn't a contest. And if it was, I'd have already won," Sheila nods. "Geez, who gets their kicks out of trying to attract passing soldiers by sleeping in a lean to?"
"Me. Then when they've stopped you distract them and your friends steal their wallets." Michael nodded
"Pfah!" Sheila shakes her head. "That's no way to go about it! If they're nasty enough to justify thieving from, just beat them into the ground to do it."
"I don't think either of us always had the ability to do that back in the day." Michael pointed out
"All right then... Then just get your big brother to beat 'em into the ground for you! Then you get a show, money, and a good lesson on how to beat down!" Sheila nods, sagely.
"I lacked a big brother. Orphan." Michael nodded. "And we were all kinda weedy."
"So? Just 'cause you're an orphan doesn't mean you can't have a big brother!" Sheila says with a frown.
"Well I would technically be Big Brother if you're referring to all of us. So you see, my plan still works." Michael nods
"Well no, I mean maybe you really do have a big brother. If you do, I guess you never heard of him. That sucks," Sheila says with a frown.
"Oh. I see your point." Michael frowned as well, thinking about it. "Well, he's just another stranger or acquaintance if he does exist so it doesn't much matter."
"What? What ever happened to blood thicker than water an' all that?" Sheila says, squinting at Michael. "All that deep spiritual bond mumbo jumbo."
"How would you know? You could see them everyday and have no idea." Michael shrugged. "Hence the whole, it doesn't really matter."
"I dunno, I think it depends. I've heard some crazy stuff about bonds like that," Sheila says with a shrug. "But whatever."
"How can you have bond, blood or no if you've never met them?" Michael grinned at this.
"Beats the heck out of me, yet there it is," Sheila says.
"Heh, well I'll let you know if I find him then." Michael joked
"'Kay," Sheila says, nodding.
"Well, I'm gonna go down to the training room and blast somethin'. Seeya around, Mike."
Michael nodded and waved at Shiela as he sped off into the sky himself, idly thinking about what she had said about brotherhood.

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Sat Mar 07, 2009 9:18 pm
A sudden knock alerts Pantherath to the presence of someone at the door. "Enter," the woren said, snapping to attention as he saw Jim's form. "Pardon my manners, sir." "It's all right, no need for formality when we're not on a mission," Jim says, waving his hand and looking around. Jim sees that the room, while not in disarray, is clearly more disorganized than the usually fastidious templar has ever had it, even in the short interim when he was missing an arm.
Jim frowns. "It's not like you to keep a messy room... What's on your mind?"
"Deathevan," the furred soldier said, half a snarl. "What else?"
Jim frowns. "You've had him on your mind for a very long time, but..." Jim shakes his head. "You've been acting differently after the defeat of Shailtor. I was hoping maybe his death would ease a little of your pain, but..." Jim grimaces. "What did he show you?"
"The very fiend himself," Pantherath spat. "What else would he use?"
Jim looks at Pantherath. "Predictable... but HOW did he show him? Why..." Jim pauses for a moment. "Pantherath, whatever he did affected you beyond what we've all gone through before. That's pretty obvious. I want to know what happened. I want to help you."
"I cannot defeat him," Pantherath said quietly.
"You don't know that," Jim says, quietly. "And even if that's true, you may not be able to now, but with experience, training, and friends to help you, there's not a whole lot you can't accomplish."
(6:19:51 PM) TheUnknownMarine: "basically you need to level up and get a good party."
"I wanted it to be by my hand," Pantherath said. "But every... every time there has been a victory, it has been him. Never my mother, or anyone else... without him, there is no victory."
Jim looks at Pantherath. "...him?"
"Ryu. Of the Dragon Clan," the woren said, solemnly.
"Did this Ryu face Deathevan one on one?" Jim asked, quietly.
"It is not about the allies!" Pantherath snarled "I do not want him defeated, just to be sealed until he breaks free once more... I want him dead! I want his blood soaked into the ground, his body burned and battered beyond recognition, and his head on a pike as an example!"
"Then be patient," Jim says, quietly. "Be patience, grow your strength, and wait for the opportune time. If you're patient enough, then you'll be ready when the time comes and your enemy will fall. Shailtor should be proof of that. He eluded us for years, but in the end, we managed to face him down here, on this world. Why would it not be the same with your foe?"
"I do not grow younger, Jim," the Templar said. "Do not be deceived; even among the woren, I have aged much; the longer I must wait, the more likely it is I will not have the power to do what needs to be done."
"We shall see," Jim says, quietly. "Do you know where Deathevan is now?"
"I have been disallowed access, pending futher review," he said. "I believe the words given to me were that I was "too likely to take extreme action," or some such nonsense. Of the survivors, I remain the only one who wants to go back to that place, much less hunt the monster; as the worst has already happened, few are willing to dive into such an effort."
Jim looks at the woren intently. "After this mission is over... I'll see what I can do to... arrange for our next operation. But if I do that, you're not going to be going alone. Understood?"
"I cannot accept that, knowing that this is a suicide mission," Pantherath said flatly. "I have not changed my mind; I will not be responsible for the deaths of those whose lives would be better served elsewhere."
"I seem to recall the Rangers surviving plenty of 'suicide missions'," Jim says, closing his eyes. "I'll look over the information and see if the situation is as hopeless as you say it is." Jim's eyes open. "But something you might consider... What will you do if someone has already slain him?"
"I will deal with that when it comes," he said, simply.
"Mmmmm. I guess you will. But in the meantime, you've got to stop letting this affect you. Even if it's not you, SOMEONE is going to eventually make him pay. And the more you let his victory hang over you, the more you add to it," Jim says, clasping his hands behind his back. "If the day comes when you are able to finally face him, will you want him to know just how much he was able to hurt you?"
"As long as he is dead, it does not matter what happens to me."
"Yes, it DOES," Jim says, gritting his teeth. "Of COURSE it matters what happens to you. You're a warrior, but you're also someone's son, someone's friend, and someone that could have a FUTURE if he'd stop living in the past."
"Your mother went through a lot to get you to safety. Not because she wanted you to become the sword that would avenge her, but because she loved you, wanted you to be happy, wanted you to have a life. Yes, it DOES matter what happens to you! It matters what happens to any of us. It ALWAYS matters!"
"Do you want to know what matters, Jim? 183."
"One eighty three?" Jim asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Seventeen Grassrunners, one Grassman who should have been Spar in the other timelines, 22 Highlanders, 9 Creeping clan members, 93 humans, the six shamans and the old lady with them, 29 winged clan members, 11 fairies, and one woren," Pantherath said, with the ease of information he had recited often. "These are the survivors of my world."
"There are no manillo, no shell clansmen or dragon clansmen," he continued. "I can barely recall all the races that once inhabited that world, but I do know that the horror was so much that of 183 people, the only one who is willing to fight Deathevan is the sole child who was too young to have remembered what happened there."
"184," Jim says, quietly. "184 survivors."
"Do not be mistaken... I am that lone woren, Jim. And unless I have been lied to for many years, there are no others," Pantherath said. "I have met them all; most died within a few years of our escape, as the elderly and the young were made the priority. I have heard their stories, seen their faces and touched their skin. 183 lives ruined, and those are only the ones not snuffed out."
"Didn't your mother survive?"
"She returned for my father," the templar said, quietly. "But she could not return to me, once she went back. Deathevan made sure of that."
Jim is quiet for a moment. "I... see. I didn't know that. I thought she made it off safely and that was the end of it..."
"I have seen 234 iterations of Katt in the multiverses, but none of them were my mother," Pantherath said. "I will never have a memory of my own mother. Nor my father. Nor my other clansmen, or the Ryu who could not stop the false god empowered through the Church of St. Eva, or countless others. That is my burden to bear, and no amount of looking to the Light will take that victory from Deathevan."
The Templar's fists had closed tightly, until the nails dug into his skin and stained the palms crimson. He muttered a few words and the damage faded, as if it had never been. Looking back to his commander, he shook his head.
"I have accepted much, Jim. I first thought to live a normal life, but nothing has been normal for me. I have come to accept that it will never be so," Psntherath said, his voice low. "I have no wife, nor any children, or even relatives; the few friends I have are all other members of the GDO, and they know that death comes for us far more swiftly than for others. I do not fear it; the only thing I fear is leaving the ruiner of my homeworld any chance to escape the judgement of death."
"No. You do not need to fear that," Jim says, quietly. "If you fall before he meets his end, then I will make sure he is judged in your place. And if I fall, I will make sure someone else takes the duty. Until the deed is done and justice is met."
"I suppose I would not be able to stop you if I did fall," Pantherath said, with a grunt.
"Well, few things can stop me when I put my mind to something," Jim says with a half smile.
"But... don't lose hope just yet, Pantherath," Jim says, the smile fading. "The multiverse is a strange place. It sometimes gives people a happy ending just when it seems there's nothing more to be done. Sometimes justice is served when you least expect it to be."
"We will see, sir," the woren said. "We will see."

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Sat Mar 07, 2009 9:26 pm
A quiet but audible knock is heard at the door where the original heroes of the Shining Force work on strategies to reclaim the lost kingdoms. "Enter," Max says, not looking up from the maps littering the table in front of him. The dragonman Garudaos, clothed in the most presentable clothing he currently owns, folds his wings in tigher as he steps through the door, bowing low. "I apologize for the interruption; I had hoped to fulfill a request, but it is not urgent. I can return at another time."
"It's fine, we could use a break anyway," Max says, looking around at the other heroes present before looking back to Garudaos. "What is it?"
"I... well... I had spoken to Her Majesty about a matter previously," he said, clearly nervous.
"And?" Max prompts.
"I had... well... I wanted to... I thought I should ask her, before I..."
"Before you did what?" Anri asked, tilting her head. "I remember the questions you wanted to ask Max. It's allright, you can ask him. He's not going to bite."
"Yes... of course," he said, straigtening out a bit more, before dropping quickly to a bow. "Lord Max, I am Garudaos, now a servant of Guardiana. By virtue of my mother's line, my cousin is the dragonman Eric, and my uncle through marriage to my mother's sister is the former general of Protectora, Elliot."
Max nods. "A noble line. What do you have to ask me?"
"I had hoped for news of my cousin Eric, and for what you knew of Elliot," he said, rising. "I thought it more than coincidence that both have met with you; and though he stood before your sword, I cannot believe that he did not wish for the same thing you did."
"Eric is in Galam with my nephew Ian, stamping out the remnants of the Devil Army and Cult on Grans and Parmecia," Max states. "...and yes, I believe the same."
"I knew very little of him," Garudaos said. "Elliot, I mean; he visited with my family only once or twice since I was born, and then only just after. My mother says that he was to be my godfather, and... he was never able to accept."
"I suppose I... I wanted to know what made him so great," the dragonman said, sighing. "I have long been looked at as being very much like him, and I wanted to know why that was."
"Well," Max says, rubbing his chin. "That would depend a lot on what your definition of 'great' is. Some praise Elliot for his honor in combat. Some for his skill with a blade. Others for his unbreakable loyalty to the throne, though others damn him for the same. Yet more believe him to be great for the way he stood up for the common folk even in the midst of war."
"Which of these things actually made him great? Or was it all of them?" Max shrugs. "Who can really say? Greatness is a matter of perception, and perception varies for all of us. But if you want my opinion, Elliot was great because he tried to remain true to himself and his beliefs even when forced into circumstances when it would seem impossible."
"I agree," Garudaos said. "I had hoped that when you fought him, he had not become as so many others were - as so many are now, except enslaved by the cult's influence, instead of Darksol's. It makes my heart beat more strongly to know that he retained what was his."
"I'm glad to know I could give you some comfort then," Max says with a smile.
"I thank you for indulging my small wish," Garudaos said, with a smile of his own. "I will take my leave, and allow you to finish."
"Thank you for doing your part in this war," Max says with a chuckle. "Farewell, Garudaos."
"And you, Dragon Slayer; we will meet together on the battlefield," the soldier replied. As he walked through the door, he added playfully, "Or perhaps on the sparring grounds, to see how good your skills match up to all kin of dragons."
"Sure, just make sure the healers have enough magic left to revive you afterwards," Max says with a chuckle.
Still smiling, Garudaos bowed once more, and took his leave of the room.

Posted by: Aldur Mon Mar 09, 2009 4:56 am
"Hey Kria," Ignatius says, flying down from the sky. "Heya Iggy. How goes things?" Kria smiled, waving as he swoops in. "About as well as they ever do," Ignatius says, looking at Kria's stand. "Gotten much business?" "Yeah a bit, some people want enchantments, others want pretty sparkles, some just want a chat." She smiled. "Business ain't too bad."
"Huh. I guess that's good. Takes your mind off other things," Ignatius says, then he takes a breath. "Things like Shailtor and uh, that whole devil thing. So how have you been holding up?"
Kria blinked. "I'm fine." She grinned. "It didn't really do anything at all to me. I mean, I'm not easy to attack mentally and that stuff was kinda tame. What about you?"
"Uh... I'm... fine," Ignatius says. "Really, you weren't affected at all? That's something. I saw some of the force get reduced to tears."
"Heehee, what can I say? I'm just that awesome." And then she snorted. "And you're as ok as Tanis in a burning library."
Ignatius shoots a worried look at the library under construction.
"Just an expression, I'll make sure I don't accidentally 'flame on' when I'm in there. Though I doubt I'll ever be in there. So how are you?" Kria asked seriously.
"You had me worried," Ignatius said with a sigh. "I half expected to turn and see demons attacking again."
"Nonsense. They'd have no chance against me. I'd just turn on the old eliminator and then slice up what was left. With me here there's nothing to fear!" Kria grinned, flexing.
Ignatius pokes one of Kria's flexed arms. "It's still kinda noodly. Well, you're better off blasting from afar than getting close to some of those things anyway."
"Still. There's just something satisfying about getting up close and personal." Kria nodded. "And I tend to run out of juice pretty fast sometimes..."
"Yeah, I guess so," Ignatius nods.
Kria shrugged. "Tends to be pretty damn effective sometimes though. Of course I apparently have a very bad temper, but you know. We all have flaws." She giggled.
"Well maybe someday I can teach you the fine art of self control,"Ignatius says with a chuckle.
"You're still bragging?" Kria sighed. "You really should stop that you know. It's not very...mature."
"You're one to talk," Ignatius says with a roll of his eyes. "And I was joking anyway. I know I don't have good self control."
"I love to talk, you're right." Kria responded. "So, been talking to any of the other guys?"
"Naw, not really," Ignatius says. "I never know what to say."
"Hello tends to work. Then you ask basic stuff, like where are they from and stuff, and they then work towards the conversation as well." Kria nodded. "Some of them are pretty friendly."
"I guess. I dunno, I'm not used to being around this many people," Ignatius says with a frown.
"Guess it'd be good practise for you then? If you feel uncomfortable, try warming up on others from our group you haven't talked to much? I mean...that'd be a good start!" Kria nodded encouragingly. "Dam's a bit odd, Tanis is nice, Ombligo is very quiet these days...I hope no one has eaten him."
"Yeah... I guess I'll try," Ignatius says with a nod. "Have you talked to some of the others?"
"Yup. Mike's kinda interesting. Sheila is cool too. Really cheery." Kria smiled.
Ignatius chuckles. "Kinda like you, huh? I remember Mike. He talked to me during the party way back when." Ignatius frowns. "I guess that talk could've gone better... or worse, really."
"I guess everyone has issues. His Shailtor thing seemed a bit unusual." Kria nodded
"Yeah, that was strange," Ignatius says with a frown. "I heard he tried to beat up Medion when they found him. Wonder what that was all about."
"I dunno, I mean maybe he was jealous? Medion's cute!" Kria shook her head. "Nah. Couldn't be that...that'd be silly!"
TheUnknownMarine (02:47:51): "Maybe he's tsundere," Ignatius nods. "Stu.. stupid Medion! It's not like I like you or anything!"
TheUnknownMarine (02:47:55): no
"Who knows?" Ignatius says with a shrug. "I'm surprised he got away with just a little smack or two. You'd think yelling at a crown prince would net you more trouble."
"Maybe Medion is a nice guy?" Kria pondered. "Well, he's apparently fighting the empire so maybe that's something."
"I suppose," Ignatius nods. "Do you think we'll go after the empire or the cult first? I know what the other groups are doing, but Dam seems to be kinda slow to decide on where to put us."
"Oh I don't know. Both are important, and it's not like I have any particular destination in mind." Kria giggled. "Wherever evil is, Kria shall appear!"
"Hey, that's catchy!" Ignatius says with a grin. Then he frowns. "I could've sworn I heard that somewhere..."
"Really? Well it's mine now!" Kria smiled. Slamming her hand on the small table. "Or they'll have to go through me to take it."
"They'd have to get in line behind the Cult, the Ur, the Empire, and whoever else we end up fighting," Ignatius says with a chuckle.
"Man, wish I could just take em all on at once. End it all in one day and then go home for a nice big feast!" Kria sighed
"Yeah, but have you noticed the leaders tend to throw feasts after every couple of victories? If we stretch it out, we'll probably have like, ten or twenty before it's finished!" Ignatius says with a grin.
"Why not just do it my way and have a party that lasts days then?" Kria giggled.
"Um, well to be frank, most of our comrades seem like lightweights. Remember that first party? Nearly everyone was gone after only an hour or two."
"Well I'm sure not!" Kria slammed her fist down again. "And the only way to not be a lightweight is through practise!"
"That's why we need more parties! Have to get the others in shape!" Ignatius nods.
"Well I guess that's true. We'll have one after the next campaign then!"
"Sounds good," Ignatius says
"Naturally!" Kria smirked. " It was MY idea."
"Have any other bright ideas?"
"Not really." Kria shrugged. "I guess I could make bangles. That's always a good plan."
"Hey, if you like it, go ahead and do it," Ignatius says with a shrug.
"DO you give that advice to the Strife Lords too?" asked Kria innocently
"What? No, no... I mean, you can do what you want so long as it doesn't hurt anyone," Ignatius says hastily.
"But technically sparring causes pain." Kria said. "People can't spar?"
"You know what I mean," Ignatius says with a sigh.
Kria sniggered. "I guess I do!"
"It's really immature to tease like that," Ignatius says, shaking his head.
"Maturity? I don't need it." Kria shook her head.
"Aren't you gearing up to rebuild your tribe? Sounds like you are going to need it," Ignatius says with a frown.
"Yup! So until this is all over, I'm going to enjoy my last days of immaturity!"
"Oh, I guess that makes sense," Ignatius nods. "Well, live it up, then."
"I think I shall." She grinned. "Your plan when it's over?"
"My plan?" Ignatius asks. "Well I guess that depends on how things are when this all ends."
"WHatcha mean?" Kria asks
"Well, like, will Galm survive or will we end up killing him?" Ignatius asks. "Does the empire release the lands it conquered or does it retain them? Things like that."
"Yeah I guess you just have to wait and see..." Kria nodded
Ignatius nods, and is silent.

Posted by: TheUnknownMarine Mon Mar 09, 2009 5:07 am
Two weeks after the Shailtor battle... Melissa hears a knocking at her door Melissa-127, working out before dinner time, doesn't even pause in her situps while answering. "Enter." Jim opens the door, walking into the room. "Hello Melissa. Still training?"
There is a brief hesitation in the Spartan's movements, not noticeable to anyone not looking for it. "Yessir."
The room around her is rather plain. Apicture of some of her fellow Spartans in armor that had been used in the UNSC's media reports in the war against the Covenant lies on the nightstand, but other than that, the only decoration is meticulously organized gear laid out on tables and the floor. The only mar was some dirt and grime on one table from weapons maitenence.
"I see you've got your room pretty much in order," Jim says, looking around, his eyes lingering on the picture. "A bit better than a tent, isn't it?"
"I suppose, sir." Melissa abruptly stops her sit-ups and flips over to start doing some push-ups, her green T-shirt hanging somewhat loosely. "What do you need, sir?"
"I came to check up on you, see how you were doing," Jim says, leaning against the doorframe. "How are you holding up after that last fight?"
The super soldier does another ten sit-ups before stopping her exercises and standing up straight with her arms by her sides, her clothes and body covered in a layer of sweat. "I suppose about as well as can be expected, sir."
"And how well is that?" Jim asks.
"I shot my superior officer in the back. What do you think, sir?"
Jim frowns. "Well, look at it this way... You've accomplished accidentally what so many others have been trying to do for years." Jim shakes his head. "That was bad, sorry. I'm not sure what exactly, but I do think it affected you. Which is why I'm here."Jim sighs. "Everyone took away some scars from that battle. Killing a demigod isn't a pretty business... especially one that toys with your mind like Shailtor does."
The Spartan glances down at the ground. "I... I know that sir. It doesn't make it any easier."
Jim looks down. "No... No it really doesn't, does it?" Jim is quiet for a moment. "Do you want to talk about it? What he made you do, made you see?"
"I had to relive the second time the Covenant bested me in combat." Melissa stops and frowns before continuing. "Sir, to not be properly punished for what I did makes me feel uncomfortable."
"And what did you do?" Jim asks, quietly.
The Spartan blinks in surprise, but then realizes that if no one had told him what had happened, Jim might not have realized exactly what happened. "I shot you in the back, sir. I understand that the situation was... unusual and that this isn't the UNSC, but I feel there should be a punishment."
"For what?" Jim asks with a sigh. "Being possessed by a fiend? Being forced to relive your failures and then having your will taken away from you? What possible purpose would a punishment serve, Melissa? What good would it do?"
"I could have picked anyone else, or any other action, sir. Instead I nearly eliminated the person most vital to our unit. And without a punishment...."
Jim looks at Melissa, a sudden realization striking him. Finally he sighs. "... all right. You've got KP duty for a week... and you've got to keep Sheila out of trouble for the same time."
Melissa's expression changes to a more neutral one, though Jim could likely pick up on her relief, as she straightens up her posture. "Yessir!"
"There's one more thing," Jim said, clasping his hands behind his back. "I want you to tell me how you felt about the visions... and the attack. Even if it doesn't seem like it, talking usually helps."
The Spartan takes a moment to gather her thoughts. "The vision I can deal with, it was the past, the only thing I can do about it is train harder so it never happens again. The attack... I'm not sure sir. It wasn't something I would have done normally, but at the time it felt like the right thing to do. It is an uncomfortable memory that will remind me that I can never be sure of what to expect in combat."
"Does it unsettle you to think about it?" Jim asked.
"Yes, sir," the Spartan replies simply.
"That's to be expected," Jim says, quietly. "When we return to home base, I can see if I can get you enrolled in some mental defense courses if you'd like. Help you be a bit more prepared if something like this happens again. "
Melissa nods. "That would be appreciated, sir."
im nods back. "Right. Just try to remember that it wasn't you back then. Not really. Maybe that will help a little."
"I'll try, sir."
"Good," Jim says. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about? Anything else that's been bothering you?"
"No, sir."
A loud beeping splits the air and Jim touches a few buttons on his headset, nodding once and wincing.
"I have to go, Hale needs me for something. Remember that we're always here if you need us, Melissa. We're a team, after all," Jim says, nodding goodbye to the SPARTAN. "Farewell."
Melissa-127 nods in return with a faint smile. "Noted, sir."
Jim grins. "You should smile more often, Melissa. I'll guarantee it'll make you feel better."
"We'll see, sir."

Posted by: Arcdragnbreth Fri Aug 21, 2009 7:46 pm
"All right, show's over, nothing to see here," Dam said, shooing everyone away. "Come on, Isis, we've got some stuff to discuss." "Yeah, I know. You want me to find your girlfriend," Isis says with a sigh. "Just give me a minute here." Isis snaps her fingers and a weighty tome appears. It unceremonously drops into her lap and she opens it without pause, flipping page after page while humming an upbeat tune. Finally, she nods, tapping a passage in the book. Looking up, she closes the book and throws it up into the air, where it disappears in a puff of smoke. "Galam. The city, mind you. Looks like she's been hitting a tavern pretty regularly."
"Which one?" the rogue asked.
Isis sighs exasperatedly. "Can't even do that amount of legwork? Fine, one second." Once again she snaps her fingers and a tome appears in her lap. Once again she opens it, reads a little into it, and throws into the air where it vanishes. "Headless Centaur. I don't even want to know about the name."
"Yeah, well, when you think a girl's dead and it turns out she's been hiding from you for years," Dam said, waving a hand, "You avoid taking chances when you can."
"That's a bold lie and you know it, your mere existence is taking chances at this point," Isis says, waving a hand.
"Like I said, when you can," the rogue said, clicking his heels to teleport out of the room and back to his own room, before skipping out of Manarina entirely in the same way.
Later that evening...
"I hope the drinks are better than the name of this dump," Dam said, speaking to a cloaked figure sitting across the table from the chair that he slipped into. She - for it was a woman's coughing the rogue heard, when she nearly choked on her drink - slammed the wooden mug on the table solidly, not loud enough to attract attention but more than loud enough to show her displeasure.
"I should kill you right now," she snarled.
"Like you could have, years ago?" Dicem asked, bitterly. "I mean, when you faked your death, of course."
"Don't talk about what you don't understand," she said. "You don't know what happened."
"I believe that's the damn point," the fiery-haired human said, more than a little angry. "You tell me one thing and do another, Kysha, and I honestly want to shake you because I cannot for the life of me figure out why you'd do it. So now that you don't think I'm dead, spill it. Tell me why you turned my damn life upside down, and why I shouldn't be the one to kill you for real."
"You couldn't," she said, with a bitter laugh. "But I'd like to see you try."
"Would you?" he whispered from behind her, no longer standing and no longer wearing his original face. Teleporting back to his seat, and returning to his original visage, he added, "The last couple of greater devils, cult leaders, and deceased Strife Lords said about the same thing, and they seem pretty dead to me. And trust me... I know a lot more about being dead than I did before."
"You're a piece of work, Dam Dicem," she said coldly, moving to stand. Dam's arm clamped around hers, holding her wrist tightly. "Let go."
"Don't make this a scene," the rogue muttered, "unless you'd like to alert others to the fact you're not quite as dead as you used to be. I'm not the only one who thinks you're gone, and I suspect that much of your current success with remaining so involves others not knowing too much."
"Well, you don't have that problem anymore, do you?" she said, wrenching her arm free. "You know, you're a piece of work... I asked you to stay queit, keep a low profile... what the hell is this? Half the world knows who you are now!"
"And I fail to see the problem," Dam countered. "I've got no family, no ties to anyone... the only one getting hurt is me - unless I don't do anything, in which case a lot more people than me get hurt."
"Which is why I had to go," she said, her tone softening. "You can't hang around me, Double D. You're a good guy pretending to be a bastard, and I'm a bastard who was pretending to be a good guy. I always knew that you'd end up in trouble if you kept hanging around me. I had to go."
"What aren't you telling me, Killia?" Dam asked.
"If I tell you, Ced, you're going to go and get yourself killed. I can't let you do it," she said, shaking her head as she slumped back in the chair.
"Tell me what?"
"They know where your parents are," she said. "I've been trying to pick them off, one by one, but they know all the same, and you're going to find them on your doorstep blackmailing you. Or worse."
"The Owls?"
"The Owls, Ced."
"Do you know where they're hiding now?"
"I do, but I'm not going to tell you so you can get yourself killed."
"Killia, I just came from talking to a mage in Manarina who found you before I asked, after breaking the siege there. You can either tell me, or I can find out and go there anyway."
The red-haired woman was quiet for a long time, then looked up.
"Cedirc, I will tell you, if... If I tell you, I'm coming with you," she said, her tone and visage both made of steel. "There's nearly six dozen trained assassins in there; you'd never make it out, no matter how good you are."
"I never said I was going alone," the rogue said, smiling slyly. "I've got some people in mind, wo know a thing or two about cutting open bastards who deserve it. We're going to walk in there and tear things up."
"And no one else is walking out," he added dangerously.

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