| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Display using:
|
|
Reflections
Posted: 16 Dec 2003 03:19 PM |
Rain fell from the skies, a drizzle causing an almost constant sound, not entirely unpleasant. Intermittently the regularity of this sound was broken by the wind howling against the window lattice. Dias sat on his bed, his legs crossed and his hands, palms upwards, resting on his knees. His eyes were closed and he went through several mental exercises to calm himself. Slowly all sounds drained away, the only thing the mage could hear was the drum of his own heartbeat. Concentrating on his breathing he mentally lowered his heart rate. No longer feeling the bed on which he sat, Dias had the impression as though he was floating. In this state of trance his mind was shielded from nearly every possible intrusion possible, barring the divine. It was a most peculiar sensation, feeling every single cell of his body and yet somehow be one.
Dias pushed all thoughts aside, for he needed to think about certain recent events. Events that had changed several aspects of his life. It felt as though he was walking in a library, with every tome or book containing information about his nearly 25 years of existence. Starting with the most recent events he reflected back on the rescue of Nottias from Maldovia. Nottias, Count Valinor, a Dark Angel, somehow all interconnected. Dark Angel… the same one that appeared when Quillian’s memories were lost, the same one that was in Hell? It felt like fitting together a puzzle without knowing how many pieces there were or what the end result would be like.
A flower… The image of a perfectly preserved flower appeared in his mind. The flower his mother had given him. The very same one Dias had given to Quillian. The same one that had turned to dust after her memory loss. Identical to the one that he found in Count Valinor’s room. Images shifted before his closed eyes, visions of his mother teaching him about plants, Quillian laughing… In his current state he neither felt happiness nor sadness. Fragments of Count Valinor’s questioning rang through his mind. Slowly he began to see a connection between it all. Vampires, Syn’s greatest creation, creatures of the night that craved for power. Syn, Nothingness, a god of annihilation. Old and newer memories were compared to each other, then mixed with knowledge until finally Dias had deduced something that seemed plausible. The Count, Maldovia’s ruler and therefore most likely the oldest vampire, was somehow responsible for stealing Quillian’s memories. Dias mentally nodded, it seemed very likely at least. It would mean that the Dark Angel worked for the Count and if not, then for Syn. Dias watched the battle in the town of Maldovia again. Calmeir had fallen and the Dark one appeared, aiding them in routing the vampires. If the Angel worked for either the Count or Syn would it slay vampires? Of course, if it fitted their schemes it would, for neither of them were known for their generosity. Besides the Count knew something about Dias, had knowledge about his father.
Nottias… Nottias must have known about his father as well. The librarian’s first words when they freed him rang clearly through his head “I’ve told you everything I knew! Please no more!”. Yes, they were after information, but if it had been something that was written down in a book, then why the elaborate plan to have him kidnapped? Either as a diversion or because they needed something which was not written down. Personal information? The Count’s interest in Dias’ relationship with his father indicated as much. But who was his father? His mother had never told him, she only smiled when asked about him. Obviously she had loved him, but why keep it a secret then? He made a mental note to ask Nottias what knowledge the Count had wanted from him. He had been overly busy the past few days and wasn’t in a very talkative mood.
Something stirred his memories. “You are one of us Dias. I serve you.” Despite his trance Dias shivered, as he heard the words of that Dark Angel. Again it had something to do with his father, of that he was sure now, but he felt frustration rising. It still didn’t bring him any step closer to knowing who his father was or what he was like. “You are one of us…” One of what? By destroying the souldagger he had escaped from Hell and countered whatever diabolical plan the Dark Angel or its master had concocted. Was stealing Quillian’s memories just a ploy to get to Dias? Doubtful… When the Angel appeared in the headquarters it stated that its master still had plans for her. Memories of the black wedding dress only resulted in more shivers.
Dias cleared his mind, once again pushing aside all thoughts. Only one thing seemed certain to him. Somehow the answers were to be found in Maldovia. The thought of that shook him out of trance. Upon opening his eyes he still saw the Dark Angel, as though it was burned on his retina. For an instant his heart skipped a few beats and his breathing stocked… the Dark Angel wore Dias’ face… |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
  |
|
|
Re: Reflections
Posted: 16 Dec 2003 05:56 PM |
*inches forward on the chair, growing ever closer to the edge with every line*
more, more! |
|
|
|
|
|
Reflections on mystical encounters
Posted: 17 Dec 2003 07:07 AM |
Midor was quiet. Only the sound of metal on stone could be heard as guards made their rounds throughout the city. It was the dead of night and nearly everyone was asleep. One of the library’s windows was open on the second floor. Behind the window sill a man stood there looking up at the moon, nearly transfixed. Piercing green eyes were in stark contrast with the pale complexion of his face, which seemed to glow eerily under the moonlight. He sighed and went to sit on his bed. Two days had passed, yet Dias had barely slept. Whenever he closed his eyes, the Dark Angel was waiting for him. Somehow he had to get rid of it, but how? If this was going to last much longer, he would lose his sanity! No, there had to be a way.
Out of nowhere a name appeared in his mind, ‘Algond’. Dias knitted his brow, not understanding why he suddenly thought of that name. Algond… it meant something, something significan. Lack of sleep had hardly improved his ability to recall events, even the most recent ones. Mulling the name over and over, he finally knew where he heard it. The Midor Mage Tower. Of course, how could have forgotten that? Before Loli, Calmeir and himself had left towards Maldovia, Dias had encountered this very charismatic man in the tower. There was something odd about him though. He was extremely knowledgeable and apparently even famous. He was mentioned in many of the tomes governing the arcane and divine arts. But what was so strange about that? Many people had their name mentioned in one book or another. He wracked his brain, feeling the answer lay just out of his grasp.
Another name popped in his mind, ‘Carjus’. Not understanding, Dias dug deep in his memories. Slowly he could recall the man’s appearance, a grey-bearded elderly human with deep brown eyes. Dias shifted his gaze to the mirror, as though he hoped the answers would be written there. When he looked at his own reflection it dawned on him that both Algond and Carjus could have been twins. Why didn’t he see that earlier? For some reason, he did not yet understand, it was as though a veil of mist separated him from finding out the truth. Dias tried another approach. Algond had been mentioned in tomes and books. No not just tomes and books, ancient ones! Books dating back from when the Plague had hit Midor and some from before the calamity. Ridiculous, that would mean Algond was 500 years old at the very least. A magical disguise then? Dias shook his head, he had become sensitive to the use of magic, could sometimes feel the latent power in others. No, this was something entirely different. And then there was Carjus… the mage’s eyes opened wide. He had spoken about the Plague, not as a historian would, but as someone who had witnessed it all. Dias looked at all the books strewn around his room. Aye, the man had been witness to the burning of books, apparently because people then thought the plague could be spread through books. All this knowledge, gone forever… A sensation of loss pervaded Dias. Yet now he saw a connection between the two grey-bearded men. Not only could they have been twins, but they had both lived for half a millennium or more.
“Sweet Theus, how is such a thing possible?” Dias asked himself and while doing so a piece of the puzzle fell in place. Theus! He shook his head, what a fool he had been! That very same day that Carjus had entered the Mage Tower and had disappeared as mysteriously, another man entered. Again he was the spitting image of the other two. A human? No, only in outward appearance… He had met Theus! Why wasn’t he able to recall this important event any sooner? Loli was there too and Dias clearly remembered how she had stated that all gods looked kind of ordinary and normal. The wizard smiled as he recalled their entire conversation. He had to ask Loli if she had any recollection of those meetings. But that could wait now. Three times he had met Theus, his patron, the one he had pledged his life to. This was one of the most significant events in his life. Somehow he felt safer, more secure as though an enormous load had dropped of his shoulders. The anguish he had felt before disappeared, while renewed faith in his patron filled that gap. For the first time in days he felt at peace. When he closed his eyes the Dark Angel appeared again, but with steel resolve Dias pushed the mental image aside. The Angel no longer wore Dias’ face and it screamed in agony. Images of the people he loved and the god he worshipped took its place. As he fell asleep Dias murmured “Thank you Theus…” and finally he was able to rest peacefully. |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
Re: Reflections on mystical encounters
Posted: 17 Dec 2003 02:33 PM |
Alone and confused, Loli crouched before the statue of Bregodim in the Halls. The warm light from the statue had comforted her many a time, but it could do nothing for the confusion she felt now.
Always she and Coruva had their disagreements on religion, but lately Coruva was bitter and sometimes outright cruel in his words to her. When she offered her help to him and Avari, to get to Ferein, he accused her of gloryseeking. When she offered him topaz dust and a leather pouch, for him to give to Fri'el to make his enchanted weapon, he refused to take the gift. He asked her how she would feel if someone gave her things she couldn't afford or did things for her that she couldn't do for herself. And she told him how she'd felt when that had happened, long ago when she first came to Vives. What she felt was grateful. Grak, her lost half-orc friend, had helped her almost from the beginning, and given her things that she needed and could not possibly afford. He told her that all he asked was that she pass long the favor when she was able, to those less able than herself. And she'd done that, as best she could under various conditions, all her time in Vives. But Coruva saw no merit in the story, and flatly refused to even consider passing on the favor. If he couldn't pay back Loli directly, preferably in cash, he wanted none of what she offered. So they had walked on in silence to Midor, through Mirghul Woods. Loli watched impassively as Coruva slowly beat a goblin to death with blows so ineffectual she had trouble believing he wasn't faking it, but said nothing.
Another day, when she was on the steps of Midor with Coruva, Neek stopped to talk to them. That was the day that ended up with Coruva calling her a gloryhound, and Avari saying she should give advice when asked and otherwise remain silent and apart from newcomers. But Neek, Neek gave her warning to flee from a being named Tarik. She liked Neek, in a distant way, and he'd been kindly towards her before. Coruva had known something about it, she could see it in his expression, but he refused to tell Loli what the danger in it was for her. He said he'd sworn to Bregodim not to tell anyone. Why would Coruva swear an oath to Bregodim not to warn his fellow Dwarves about danger? And more, she'd heard since that Coruva was with the Elves, chasing this Tarik person in the name of Aros. Had Bregodim not told the both of them to beware of entanglements with Aros and his people? That was when she had asked Bregodim if he minded that she had prayed to Aros on behalf of Shaz. At first Bregodim was upset with her, but then when he heard it was for one of Aros's own people, and not for herself, that she had prayed, he said that was permissable.
When she had mentioned that prayer to Avari, and asked Avari if she thought Aros had heard, Avari said "Aros aint no fool to be led into anythin". That sent Loli's heart plummeting, that Aros might have misunderstood, but she could not get Avari to say anything more on the subject. Instead, Avari wanted to "get close to her strength" - wanting an embrace for starters. Loli hadn't any idea if Avari meant what it sounded like, but she found herself wishing Coruva would get back into Midor soon. Obviously Avari was feeling more than a bit lonely. Thank goodness Coruva had returned, which Avari was claiming that evening he never would. When Loli saw her next she was raising money for an orphanage that she and Coruva wanted to build after they were married. The Lorehammmer Orphanage, Avari said they were going to call it, to be built near their house and with a big shop for Coruva to use for his smithing. And Coruva called -her- a gloryhound! All she wanted was her little house in the Halls, although now she couldn't even take her friends there according to some person named Steelforger. She'd never met the man, but if he didn't have a good reason she wasn't going to turn away a friend that came to her in need. To do that would be to fail to follow her conscience, and that was her Bregodim-given right. Possibly even her duty. And speaking of her duty, she'd resumed forging yesterday. She hoped it would clear her mind, and it was one of her duties to Bregodim as she saw it. She certainly enjoyed doing it, only all the other troubles had pushed that out of her life for a while.
If only one of the others would return. Ty, or Anandur, and especially Shaz. She really missed Shaz, but at least the other two would supply some direction. She'd seen Budok in Midor, at Rachel's wedding. Anandur had warned her that Budok was probably in town, and asked her and Fri'el to watch over Midor, but Loli had forgotten at the wedding in her amazement at the marriage of a paladin of Midoran to a convicted and not particularly repentant murderer. Not that there was anything she could have done about Budok, who could appear and disappear at will, and who was probably responsible for the presence in Midor of the quickling that the Midor guard had dispatched. But at least she could confirm to Anandur that Budok was there. And there was the half-orc just yesterday, who had a cursed item in his possession that Dias said was the result of using one of those Decks of Hazard.
And oh yes, there was still Dias. Poor Dias, with all the troubles he already had and now vampires were involved. Everybody had forgotten about Malagard, so it seemed ... wait. Loli thought a moment. She had forgotten that Coruva was raised by an evil hand, that night in Paws under the last new moon. True, he had gotten an amulet to restore his powers to him, but that didn't negate the fact that the being who raised him wasn't Bregodim, and stank of sulphur and brimstone. Well that might explain the worsening of his behavior towards Loli. Although she thought the evil power might have found an easy opening to start with. She still shivered at the memory of the time Coruva had healed her with that stone of his. With most clerics the healing was fast and painless, or else a person could seek the sanctuary of sleep while the healing took place. But Coruva's healing was slow, making the conscious patient feel every moment of the wounds closing, the bones and skin re-knitting themselves into wholeness. She shivered again. She always made sure she was fully healed now if she could, when she met Coruva, to avoid feeling that ever again.
She rested her head on her pack, with the load of homemade beverages inside that she'd made for Coruva's wedding. How would she give it to them, when Coruva spurned her gifts? And even Avari, now that she thought about it, had not actually asked -her- for a donation for the orphanage. Finally she fell asleep, there at the foot of the statue of Bregodim, with one or two tears glistening on her face. |
Dieties preserve us from the evil chaotics named Lag, Crash, and Server Reset.
PCs: Loli Dankirk (Ftr 18/Brd 8.5 @ 1777 hrs) left Vives for Origins; Gnora Gnombody (Sor 5 @ 54 hrs) and Amanda Stark (Wiz 3 @ ~10 hrs) left Vives for Feline Providence. |
|
|
|
|
Reflections: friends and foes
Posted: 18 Dec 2003 09:17 AM |
Had the world gone mad? Was this another plane? Another dimension? An alternate reality? Dias understood less and less of what was going on. Through Loli he had heard rumours about Tarik, a god who relishes in the hunt of mortals. According to a tome in La Sapienza, Tarik and his followers love nothing more than to hunt elves. They hide themselves in deep and dark glades, remaining unseen from the outside world.
Badly in need of bandages, Dias had left Midor for there was only one place to acquire those. While crossing the Great Plains he met Coruva and Avari, and was soon joined by both Ceridwen and Vela. Both Coruva and Avari had been acting a bit strangely, but Dias thought it was all due to the wedding. After all who wouldn’t be at least a bit nervous to get everything arranged?
Seconds later the earth shook and flocks of ravens descended on the Plains. Ceridwen and Avari talked to the birds, and then to each other in elven, which left Dias rather clueless. Yet one of the ravens suddenly spoke one clearly defined word in common: Fenghuul. Just hearing the name made Dias shudder, for it instantly brought back memories of quicklings. But the bird had more to say. Apparently Tarik and his devout follower Daeron were amassing an army in Fenghuul for the invasion of Ferein. And then the bird croaked out a last sentence: “Tarik and Daeron have selected Dias as quarry!”.
Dias stood there transfixed as though lightning had just struck him. Avari informed him then that non-elves who were slain by Tarik’s followers would not be raised by either Aros or their own patrons. At that time Dias neither knew whether to cry or to laugh. This was getting ludicrous. He ran though a mental list: Gukathul wanted his soul; Helkris probably would never forgive him for slaying her shaman champion; Malagard’s minions didn’t particularly like him either; apparently even Syn or at least his vampires showed an interest in him and now… now it seemed he had been marked as a target by the Dark Hunter. What bothered Dias in this whole affair, well besides the fact of being made a target, was the fact that Aros would not raise a non-elf, even if he or she fought alongside the elves. Yet according to Avari Aros would raise every elf that fell victim to the hunters. Dias worshipped Theus, but he had always respected a lot of the other gods: Bregodim, Aros, Elbereth, … His respect for Aros however was dwindling rather fast. He did not expect direct divine intervention, but it was more the fact that Aros made a distinction between elves and every other race, even if they fought for a common goal.
What happened afterwards, confused Dias even more. Avari who wanted Dias to select a blade so she could commit suicide, Coruva explaining he could not tell because of an oath and then leaving his armour of the Azure Lights on the cobblestones of the Midor gate… And all they could talk about was secrecy, which didn’t help to alleviate the problem. Dias understood what an oath was about, but there were times where an oath was no longer binding. And such was now the case.
Dias was scared, for he knew the strength of the dark quicklings. He had faced one and had nearly succumbed to the wounds. And now a group of those fiendish halflings were after him? It didn’t make sense, none of it. If Tarik’s goal was to invade Ferein, then why sent his hunters after a mage who, until recently, had barely heard of the name. According to the manuscript in the library, the hunters relish in chasing difficult prey. Despite the situation Dias chuckled. If he hadn’t cast his strongest protection at the time the dark quickling was in Midor he would have died then and there. So now what? Apparently no place on the island was safe. The library had been invaded by shadow thieves, ninja and vampires. And Midor was supposed to be safe? If one quickling could enter the city he was certain others would follow as well. What should he do then, stay in his room with everything locked up? He wasn’t the bravest soul on Vives, but there was a limit to what even he would tolerate.
Despite it all, he tried to remain calm, for he knew what could happen if anger took over reasoning. His eyes flashed briefly, for a moment the image of a Dark Angel appeared in his mind. The smile Dias wore then was something none of his friends had ever seen on his face, for it resembled the diabolical grin of the Dark Angel. Quickly he pushed the thoughts aside, he wouldn’t give in to that.
So who would stand by him then? Loli? The dwarven lass was also afraid and understandably so, yet he knew he could count on her. Fri’el? He hadn’t seen her in days. Coruva and Avari? Given their odd behaviour he no longer knew –what- to expect from them at all. Fine, if there was nearly noone that would stand by his side for sure, he’d have to fight them on his own. “Theus, I beseech Thee! Fill my body with your wisdom and strength, so that I may harness magical energies to slay each and everyone of Tarik’s followers! None will stand before the magical onslaught that I will unleash!” With eyes blazing and the rush of magical energy coursing through his body, Dias left his room, a grim but determined expression on his face. |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
Re: Reflections: friends and foes
Posted: 18 Dec 2003 11:51 AM |
Terror now! Dias was the quarry in a hunt to the death. Death forever, by the hands of quicklings. Could it be long before Loli was also targeted? In a brief meeting in Midor, Loli found out that Coruva had not actually sworn -to- Bregodim not to warn the Dwarves of the hideous danger presented by Tarik, but only in his name. Only after she pressed the issue of why Bregodim would betray his people in general, and her in particular, did Coruva admit this. So it was not Bregodim who betrayed her. Most likely the evil force which raised Coruva was in fact Tarik, and Coruva had been bought. And possibly Bregodim had warned Steelforger, which would explain the sudden closing of the gates to all non-Dwarven.
Avari claimed she was behind Neek's warning to her. Maybe this was so. Loli recollected how Aros had once raised her, inside a crypt where she had fallen with Arizzle and Wendy. He told her at the time to remember it, and when Ferein was in peril she did respond. So she wasn't sure what might have motivated Neek. Perhaps some day, if she lived through this, she would ask him. And maybe, just maybe, he would answer her question.
Loli slept in her house with all her belongings at hand, in case she had to escape. She knew her feeling of safety was illusory, even in her home. When she awoke in the morning, after troubled sleep, she considered urging Dias to flee Vives with her. But she knew Dias would never abandon Quillian, and she wanted so, so badly to see Shaz again. So she put her storage bags back into her trunk, and she went out into the Halls. After her prayers, during which she trembled all the while, she tried to make herself leave the Halls for Midor. She was unable to force herself to go. Only after she had calmed herself by forging some armor and weapons was she able to leave.
She tried not to remember that final sight of Coruva, relishing and treasuring his open wound when any other would have seen it healed long since. |
Dieties preserve us from the evil chaotics named Lag, Crash, and Server Reset.
PCs: Loli Dankirk (Ftr 18/Brd 8.5 @ 1777 hrs) left Vives for Origins; Gnora Gnombody (Sor 5 @ 54 hrs) and Amanda Stark (Wiz 3 @ ~10 hrs) left Vives for Feline Providence. |
|
|
|
|
Re: Reflections: friends and foes
Posted: 18 Dec 2003 11:15 PM |
Shaz was back!
Avari and Coruva cancelled their wedding, and eloped to be married alone.
Shaz was back!
Avari and Neek decided to trust her with real information, so now she could understand where to be or not be, and why.
Shaz was back!
Dias was in peril yet deeper, and imperiling them all if he failed to conquer his demon-within.
Shaz was back!
Quillian's memories were still missing, Quies's feelings were still gone, Steelforger was still invisible, Budok was still at large, and Malagard still threatened the world.
Shaz was back!
And, yes, there was a -slight- complication in Shaz's trip away from Vives ... but ...
Shaz was back!
Loli went to sleep with a smile on her face, and slept soundly. |
Dieties preserve us from the evil chaotics named Lag, Crash, and Server Reset.
PCs: Loli Dankirk (Ftr 18/Brd 8.5 @ 1777 hrs) left Vives for Origins; Gnora Gnombody (Sor 5 @ 54 hrs) and Amanda Stark (Wiz 3 @ ~10 hrs) left Vives for Feline Providence. |
|
|
|
|
Reflections: two sides of the coin
Posted: 20 Dec 2003 04:03 PM |
When things go bad, they always take a turn for the worst. Shaz’jen had told Dias that he was a magnet for trouble and Dias was starting to believe it. What was it that everyone wanted of him? No, that’s poorly worded. Fri’el would say: what was it that all the meanies wanted of him. His friends didn’t want anything, well after all they were his friends for a reason. The number of foes had become legion. ‘Thinking of defeat is admitting defeat” Grandmaster Le had told him. Dias wasn’t sure if the Grandmaster had ever been chased by several gods, demons and their followers at once. If things didn’t look so grim, he’d think it was all just a prank.
The day after he had been targeted as ‘the quarry’, Dias was in Port Royale. There was a new auction house and the wizard wanted to take a look inside. After chatting a while with the owner, a rather strange gnome –well aren’t all gnomes strange?- he left. As he opened the door a quickling dashed in at a supernatural speed. Was it luck that he saw the creature? At any rate, he ran out and smashed the door shut. His hands and fingers flashed dexterously through several patterns, while his lips tried to keep up the frantic rhythm. When the quickling barged into Port’s square, a hound archon stood waiting for it. For some reason though the little creature stood still, was it perhaps looking for Dias who had become invisible? Caring little for reasons, the wizard ordered the archon to slay the vile creature and it did so with apparent ease. It’s last words were “Wait! We have come to tal…”, just as the hound’s flaming blade connected with its neck. The wizard cursed himself, they wanted to parlay and he had slain a messenger. Just his luck… But another one appeared and this time Dias ordered the archon to hold his ground. “A wise decision,’ the quickling chirped in barely comprehensible common –apparently they also talked a whole lot quicker than normal people- “For if we wanted you dead you would be by now.” Somehow Dias couldn’t refute that statement, he knew all too well that this was not an idle boast.
“Fine, what –do- you want from me then?” he sighed.
“We seek the yellow stones and we seek someone to enchant weapons.” The quickling looked straight in Dias eyes.
“Great,” he thought, “they can see through my invisibility. Is this spell even still useful at all? –Everyone- sees me.” He frowned his brow, “Yellow stones? You mean topaz?”
The quickling nodded, “We want to know where to find it. And there’s another reason. We want you to lead our army. We need people with power.” It smiled, showing a row of razorsharp teeth. Well Quicklings weren’t known for eating vegetables…
For several seconds Dias stood there dumbfounded. Little doubt as to where he was supposed to lead them. It was time to make a decision. “No, I’m not interested in leading –any- army, least of all one against my own friends.”
“You friends? But they mock you when you are away. They laugh behind your back. Think about it! You could be governor of this isle! Imagine the power and wealth you would have!”
“I have never been interested in ruling anything or anyone and that won’t change overnight. Furthermore I do not crave wealth and power.”
The quickling only laughed “We will see about that.” And it disappeared as quickly as it had come.
“If only they would die just as fast,” Dias sighed. No longer a quarry, the idea that they now wanted him as warleader and enchanter didn’t appeal to him either. Hurriedly he jumped on the wagon towards Midor and ran off to the Azure Lights Headquarters, hoping that someone would be there. As he entered he saw Shaz’jen and Loli, all dressed up. He gave it little thought and immediately started telling what the hunters of Tarik wanted from him and why. As he finished he suddenly felt a sting. A dart protruded from his shoulder. “What’s this?” was all he managed to say before he collapsed on the floor as strength fled his legs. Loli administered him a potion and soon he felt better. Whatever had coated the weapon must have been a weak poison.
Were the quicklings trying to kill him? Or nudge him into making a decision that would benefit them? His train of thoughts was interrupted as several quicklings swarmed them in the headquarters. The combined effort of Loli’s steel and Dias’ magic was enough to kill them all. One of the creatures had managed to wound Dias before his defences were up. As Loli approached to aid him, the wizard told her to stay away. “Don’t you dare come closer! I know what you are after!”
Shaz’jen, always the voice of reasoning, told him that Loli only wanted to help tend his wounds.
“No! Lies! I see it now! You’re all after my power! You’re jealous of me! But I’ll show you, soon I’ll be able to command balors!” he cackled with glee.
Loli and Shaz’jen looked worriedly at each other. “Dias, no one is after your magic.”
“What… Why? Why did I just say those awful things? That wasn’t me!”
“Hmm, you better go see Father Fetter Dias.” Shaz’jen advised him.
At this moment Fri’el entered. They didn’t get much time for greetings as yet another commando of quicklings assaulted them. With the help of Fri’el it was even easier. In few words they explained to her what was going on. Several minutes later they all stood in the temple of Midor.
“Hmm, I detect no abnormalities, Dias.” Father Fetter told him. He looked at him, “But allow me to check a few things.” Marick started casting, but Dias suddenly shouted.
“No! Stop it! You are not trying to detect anything! You try to control my mind! You’re also after my powers.” The wizard stepped backwards until he felt the wall pressing against him. As sudden as the outburst came, just as quickly did it disappear. “No, that wasn’t me! I’m not like that.” He paused as a thought suddenly struck him, “Unless this has something to do with my heritage… Father, this is important. You must have known my mother, for until eight years ago she worked here at the infirmary. But I have never known my father and apparently a lot of, hmm, people are interested in him or in me because of him. At least that’s what I think…”
“Hmm yes perhaps this is an aspect of yourself. Some side of you that you have suppressed until now. Something you do not wish to acknowledge.”
Dias, feeling utterly hopeless, closed his eyes. Images of the Dark Angel beckoning him, telling him that he was one of them appeared in front of his eyes. He became as pale as his robes as once more he saw himself as a Dark Angel. No, that was his brain playing tricks on him. His entire life he had always opposed that for which the Dark Angels stood. He loathed evil! And now he was being told that perhaps there was a dark side to himself? Dias couldn’t believe that, he didn’t –want- to believe it. Regrettably, he had always been a realist as well and the facts were clearly against him. When Marick told him he would look into the matter of his father, it only half registered with him. Despondent he left the temple, wanting to be alone. He felt absolutely miserable.
Yet he took faith in the fact that he didn’t ask Theus why it all happened to him. Only lesser men and women think that the gods are responsible for everything. Theus was still his patron and as such he would serve him. It wasn’t Theus fault that this had happened. Nor could anyone expect from the gods to protect their worshippers. No, he shouldn’t give in to fear, that would serve no purpose at all. Fear of what he might become, not necessarily would become, would only stand in his way to find a solution. Taking a scholarly approach he analysed the situation. What were his worst concerns? Obviously that his other self would take over and give the followers of the Dark Hunter everything they wanted. That meant three things: giving them the information of where to find topaz, enchanting their weapons and finally leading an assault on Ferein. Well that could be broken down into two subjects: finding the topaz and wanting leadership. If there was no topaz, there would be no enchanting! There was only one problem, Dias knew where to find topaz. But… did that mean his other self knew? No, he was pretty sure that so far the other one had been long enough in control. Dias smiled for the first time in a very long while. Theus’ teachings would help him here. A wizard needs a structured mind to store spell patterns. Being a loremaster, Dias’ mind was even more structured, because it was the only way to store enormous amounts of information. His brain resembled a huge library, with all knowledge stored in different rooms. And now it became necessary to lock certain rooms, so that only he would have access. It was actually the reversal of a mental exercise mages conducted when trying to recall information that they had read or heard years ago. He locked away the information about topaz and as many spells as he could. Unfortunately some would remain accessible to his other self. He could only hope that those would be harmless incantations.
Another thought struck him. He should tell everyone that he knew and they should tell others that noone was ever to tell Dias where topaz could be found. Otherwise his efforts to lock his other self out would have been futile. Of course there was always the possibility that the other one might find out after all…
The rest of the day wasn’t much better. In another one of his fits, Dias went to the goblins to offer them an ultimatum. The miserable little creatures hardly understood or spoke common, yet it was sufficient for what Dias had to tell them. Some licked their lips at the thought of having him for lunch. If they had taken notice of the sardonic smile on his face or the hunger in his eyes, they might have taken a hint. “Follow me or die.” Four words, easily spoken, easily understood. Goblins had never been known for their intelligence. They charged and thus chose to die. Dias the good saw it all as though he was riding the mind of a different person. Luckily for the wizard, his evil self still had access to protection spells. The evil one cursed as he found most spells inaccessible. Oh well, it was only a minor setback.
Dias wasn’t a warrior like Loli, but he did have a decent grasp of how to fight with a quarterstaff. The goblins soon found out how hard an iron shod staff really was. Skulls cracked and bones splintered as the wizard kept making circular motions with the staff, spinning it deftly around in his hands. Ten minutes later he was back in the outskirts of Midor, completely unharmed. Just as he entered town his former self took over again.
Loli was standing by the notice boards. She told him that the wedding of Avari and Coruva had been postponed, but she had made beer and other liquor for the wedding party. Telling her what he had done in Mirghul, he asked her if he could have several bottles. He’d drink himself silly so that Dias the bad would only be able to spew forth obscenities. About ten bottles of beer later, they were both joined by Avari and Coruva. As luck would have it, the other side took over again, cursing and swearing and telling for everyone to hear how he would be ‘guvner’ and ‘Lord of the Quicklings’. After this splendid soliloquy he keeled over and spent the rest of the night in the infirmary. |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
Re: Reflections: two sides of the coin
Posted: 22 Dec 2003 10:47 AM |
Patches of brown and green passed underneath him. “Farmlands” he thought as the wind roared in his ears. He veered off to the west in the direction of the mountains. With a few beats of his mighty wings he passed over the range and glided down, following a winding pass that lead to a small, but heavily guarded community. Tiny, dark flecks were moving between the buildings. “Guards” he mused as he saw the sunlight reflecting on metallic parts of their weapons or armour. Even high above them he was still able to hear them scream. A few brave ones tried to shoot arrows, but he was out of range. The snowy fields had once more trade places for farmlands and hills. From his viewpoint the hills seemed to be crawling with hundreds of tiny beings. “Good! They are in place.” Again he heard sounds coming from the creatures, but this were cries of joy. He rode the wind and veered steeply to the north, covering vast amounts of ancient forest in mere seconds. They were awaiting him, they knew he would come. Folding his wings closer to his enormous body, he dropped from the sky into their direction. Some started casting but the spells glided off his scales like water droplets. He opened his maw, filled with razor sharp teeth the size of a halfling, and breathed in deeply. Liquid fire spewed forth from a gland deep in his throat and washed over the defenders of Ferein. The first ranks were completely incinerated, but near the gate he saw old friends and acquaintances. Avari, Coruva, Loli, Neek, Fri’el and many others… Ah, this was true pleasure! Hearing their cries of agony and terror, while the fire burned them alive…
Dias woke up screaming. What had he been dreaming? He couldn’t remember, it had something to do with his friends though. He didn’t pay it any further attention, after all it was only a dream. He splashed some water in his face, put on his robes and went down. Then he realised with everything that had happened the day before he never got to Brandibuck. No one in Midor paid him a second glance as he went to the north gate. At the edge of Mirghul he saw a pack ox, its owner not in sight. Without prior warning the evil side took over. Whoever was in the forest would join –his- army or stay there forever as part of the forest soil. He laughed sardonically and entered the woods. About hundred paces inside the forest he saw two goblins around a body on the ground, now and then poking it which resulted in a weak and feeble moan. As soon as his evil side had taken control, just as quickly was it pushed away. Seeing someone in dire need of medical aid was enough to trigger the switch. He stormed forward shouldering the first goblin in the back and knocking it down. The other one was less lucky as the iron shod quarterstaff broke its jaw and send lightning wracking through its brain. It fell lifeless to the ground. Paying the goblins no further attention, he poured a potion down Celest, for now he recognised her, which gave her vigour again. But the sounds had attracted other goblins and Dias told her to run to the plains where she would be, all be it relatively, safe. A few minutes later he joined her, Mirghul was once more silent.
Apparently she wanted to explore the tower but somehow found the goblins tougher than usual. Dias hadn’t noticed any real difference, but warned her about going in alone somewhere. Before he left he had her encased in a skin of stone and made her resistant to several forms of energy. Then he went back to Midor. Several people were gathered near Gepetto’s shop. Loli, Vela, Neek and Ceridwen were discussing something and apparently it included Dias, for the first thing they said was “And here he is”. But it was good to finally see Neek, as he had many things to tell him. He told them about the emergence of his dark side and in return Neek informed him that those darts coated with topaz were used for mind control, for people whose will was strong but had "needed skills". According to Neek, the tasks they proposed Dias can be accomplished by many folk in the lands, so he wondered why they chose him. The wizard knew where this was leading, it was a question about his heritage. They wanted him because he was different from most humans. Involuntary he heard the Dark Angel whisper in his ear, “You are one of us” and shuddered. Neek would delve further into this matter but he had to leave. His only advise was to keep the ‘other’ as often as possible in check. And with that he left.
Loli, Vela and Dias went to Dias to discuss matters a bit further in the library. Dias wanted to store a few items in his room and he wanted some company. After some smalltalk, Vela suddenly asked if it was normal to have wounds opening on one’s arm for no reason at all. When they examined the wound, they saw a small dart protruding from her arm. Vela pulled it out and looked at it quizzically. “Hey Dias, what’s this?” The mage took a closer look and could see a yellow dust coating the tip of the dart, it was topaz. This was the exact same dart that had hit Dias a few days ago and had caused the change in personality. He tried to dispel whatever effect it was having on Vela, but didn’t know whether he succeeded or not. There wasn’t much else he could do… except trying to use the dart to obtain more information! Dias fetched a carefully wrapped crystal ball out of his back pack and started concentrating, hoping to find something about who had used it or at least where it came from.
“Must you use that annoying thing around me?” Vela suddenly asked, sounding rather annoyed. Dias looked at her not comprehending what she meant. “It distracts me.”
“Vela, fight it! This is not you!” suddenly the wizard knew all too well what was going on.
“Fight –what-? You people are so paranoid. If –I- wished you harm, you would be harmed already.”
“Calm down Vela!”
“I –am- calm, Dias…” she told with a poker face. “It is you who is reaching for great crystal balls. Perhaps –you- seek to harm me.”
“No, I’m trying to help you! I wouldn’t harm you.”
“Yes, that is what –you- say, but this is what –I- see…”
“I can only see distant places with this Vela. Look, let me put it away.”
“You wish to take from me what I am promised… Yes… That must be it…”
“Your words speak naught but poisoned lies! As even now while you claim to wish to help… even…” She paused for a second, “What was I saying?”
Dias explained in quick words that what had happened to him, was now also happening to her. Then he suddenly saw something. “Vela if I may be blunt... what are those scales on your arm?”
“My scales? I.. ah… grew them. Right about when my fangs appeared.”
“If I recall correctly, and I'll have to check this again, some people get their magic from dragon blood inside of them. It could mean that one of your ancestors, even from a very long time ago, was a dragon.”
“That much I worked out from the dreams.” She grinned slightly.
“Are there others in your family who have your abilities?”
“I believe one of my great-grandparents had such abilities. She was with child young, though.. and did not live long from what few tales my family told of her.”
Dias was pensive, for what Vela just told them sounded somehow familiar. “I just seem to recall something, but I have no idea who told me this, or even when.” He was stunned for a moment. “But I know it for a fact... One of my ancestors was also a dragon... How could I –not- have known this? Why do I only recall it now?”
“Well at least we know why we were chosen now.”
“We do?” Vela asked.
Dias nodded, “It’s because of our draconic heritage and sometimes that dragon inside us takes over. Or at least that is what I think.”
The sorceress nodded once. “Indeed, that does make sense.”
“Before I go further... do you know which kind of dragon was your ancestor?”
“Red.”
“Aye, coveting wealth and power… wealth and power…”
“Er .... but that's what -your- other side does too, Dias.” Loli informed them both.
“Red… Indeed… We seem to have more in common than we think Vela. No wonder I crave for power, wealth and wish to rule all…” He sat on the ground, his legs no longer able to support him.
“You are weak!” Vela said with a smirk on her face. “I… I didn’t mean that.”
The wizard looked up sharply at her and stood up. “WHAT did you just tell me?” His anger was almost tangible.
“I didn’t… ah… mean to… It just sort of..” she looked a shade embarrassed, “slipped out?”
Loli told them to remember who wanted them this way. It was Tarik who wanted them to serve him.
“I shall serve no one! Nay, I'll call an army of Dark Angels and rule this pitiful island. Tarik included. He will serve -me-“ Inside his body, the two sides of Dias were battling for control. Eventually the good side prevailed, but not before it was able to stab himself in the leg. The pain drove the draconic side away.
“Well Vela, I could almost call you my sister now I suppose.”
Grinning slightly, Vela replied “You do know how to lighten a moment, Dias.”
“I'm not sure the world is ready for the two of us though.” He continued.
“No.. it is not. What worries me is that only one would be needed.” This had them all thinking for a long while after that.
Eventually they went separate ways and the day ended with Coruva and Dias hauling back the body of Celest from the Midor mines to the infirmary. Luckily for her, Ceridwen had managed to escape.
The next day was quite uneventful apart from some clashes between Vela and Dias. Apparently talking about power, wealth or serving while they were both around wasn’t a very good idea. They kept insulting each other. Dias was called a weak human, while he told her she was nothing but a wyrmling and would never be more. Loli was hiding behind a pilar near the Arena for it was escalating. Eventually Dias lost all control and his draconic side caused him to undergo a transformation.
It was midday and an immense red dragon looked down on Vela, its scales glistening in the sun. The guards were running away to get more weapons, more men or both. But by the time they got back, the red dragon had disappeared and Dias was walking to his room, pale as ever. He knew how to change his shape into that of various monsters, but not a dragon. This was not a spell he mastered. It was his blood! He was the great great grandson of a red dragon and the blood that had been passed down countless generations now flowed strongly in him. So strong that he was able to change into a dragon. No not him, the other one. It left him frightened and although some question were answered, he still had no idea who his father was and why Valinor wanted to know so badly about him. But somehow deep inside he knew that his father was good, his mother had loved him deeply. Was there something else inside him that the forces of evil coveted? If so was it perhaps something he could use to control his draconic side? So many questions, and yet so little answers. He sighed and tried to catch some sleep, perhaps it would bring counsel… |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
Pictures of Dias and Vela in Midor, As Described Above
Posted: 22 Dec 2003 11:09 AM |
|
Dieties preserve us from the evil chaotics named Lag, Crash, and Server Reset.
PCs: Loli Dankirk (Ftr 18/Brd 8.5 @ 1777 hrs) left Vives for Origins; Gnora Gnombody (Sor 5 @ 54 hrs) and Amanda Stark (Wiz 3 @ ~10 hrs) left Vives for Feline Providence. |
|
|
|
|
Re: Pictures of Dias and Vela in Midor, As Described Above
Posted: 23 Dec 2003 09:01 AM |
| VERY,VERY well written!!!!!!!!!!! ;) |
|
|
|
|
|
Reflections: Not everyone is who he seems to be
Posted: 30 Dec 2003 12:24 PM |
He woke up before the sun and decided to walk to Paws. Apart from the clattering sounds of the waterfalls, the Tears were quiet and peaceful. In some way they the sounds and views soothed Dias, as he took his time to get to Paws. He tried to forget what had happened the day before and planned to get some cotton for his tailoring. As he entered the gates he nodded to Kusin who was just getting ready to ride to Midor. The farmer and Dias had a special arrangement. As long as Dias tended to the cotton plants, he could pick them and so he did.
As he was about to finish, a dozen small shapes appeared out of nowhere. Quicklings! One injured Kusin and Dias was able to kill it with missiles of pure force, but then the remaining quicklings were upon him. He managed to yell to Kusin to get out of the village as fast as possible and the dwarf did just that. If it hadn’t been for his magical shields and wards, they would have killed Dias in a heartbeat. Yet some still managed to land blows with their lightning fast attacks. The pain infuriated him and his draconic side took over. How dared they attack their soon to be master?
Nearly everyone was still asleep in Paws, otherwise they would have seen a red dragon near the gate, surrounded by halfling like creatures. He was able to kill about three quarters, but they were too numerous for even a dragon. Soon he lay bleeding on the ground, reverted back to his old shape. “Perhaps it’s time to meet Tarik,” the remaining quicklings buzzed in their ultrafast speech. They healed him and disappeared as mysteriously as they had come. Slowly he got up, but it was still the draconic Dias inside. Having been humiliated he felt even more enraged. Stamping off to the inn he opened the door and ordered, no, commanded the innkeeper to bring him a bottle of wine. The man was taken aback by the rudeness of Dias but complied nonetheless. After drinking a glass of wine, he felt odd and shook his head. Slowly Dias was regaining control and he fought with all his mental strength against the surge of draconic power inside him. At the moment he was the same old Dias again, the wizard was whisked away and found himself in a circular room, filled with bookshelves. Disoriented he looked around, when a voice with the smoothness of velvet bid him welcome.
It finally registered with Dias that he was probably in Tarik’s stronghold. Looking behind him, he barely managed to contain his surprise. A dark elf stood there, smiling pleased. “Tell me, how fare you with the topaz?” This had to be Tarik then. Thinking fast he decided on acting like his other self, perhaps in this way he might be able to gain information about what was going on.
“The weakling has closed his mind for me. I cannot gain access…yet.” Dias smirked, hoping that Tarik would not see through his act.
“All in good time then. It doesn’t matter at the moment.”
“But pray tell me, why are you trying to enlist the aid of Vela? She’s nothing but a weak wyrmling.” He tried to sound indignant. His real reason was to find out how to undo the effects of the darts.
“She is of little concern. You are far more important.”
Dias felt like he was going to die, yet he had to keep up this charade. Doing his utmost best to sound angry he told Tarik that it didn’t look that way to him. After all, his draconic self was pompous and self-centred. It would never brook competition.
“Here take this,” Tarik gave Dias a cup filled with blood, magically sealed so the blood wouldn’t get out, “and give it to your sister.”
Actually Vela was more a cousin of his than a sister, but he didn’t feel like pointing that out. “What does it do?” He looked as though he was unsure of the effects. A true dragon is always suspicious.
“Just give it to her and she will no longer be a problem to you. And now I have to take my leave. Check the bookcase over there, it’ll transport you to a location you know well.” And he left.
This wasn’t going very well. Now he had a cup of, most likely, enchanted blood that might kill or totally enslave Vela and he still didn’t know why Tarik wanted him. He went over to the bookcase and found out that it opened away from the wall. Behind it, a portal was visible. Without thought he grabbed an ivory scrollcase from the bookcase and stepped through the portal. He blinked and when he opened his eyes again Dias found himself in a very familiar place. The Midor Mage Tower was connected to Tarik’s home! The mage there approached him. “I see you have found the portal,” he smiled.
"What madness is this all?" Dias asked himself. He had been tutored by this wizard! They had laughed together, shared stories and now he was in league with Tarik? Madness didn't begin to describe this whole situation. Dias simply nodded, not knowing what to say.
"I'm glad you are joining us." The hedge wizard kept on smiling.
Dias didn't know whether to feel sadness or fury at the betrayal. "Fine, lets play this game to the end." he thought. "How do I get back to Tarik? Can I use the portal here?"
"Oh heavens no. It only works when the master wants it. But rest assured he will call upon you again.
Dias only nodded. "Hmm, I was wondering how I could help with the enchantment of the darts. Do you know the process? Could you teach it to me?" Once he got the formula, he or others could find out how to reverse it. Now it was like finding your way in utter darkness.
"No, I do not. But Tarik's dark quickling wizard knows how. I'm sure he will teach you in time. He's actually watching us now."
That last statement certainly got Dias' attention. He was being watched. And they probably could see him everywhere at any time. No... almost everywhere. There were safe places. His thoughts were interrupted however.
"Quickly, you have to go! The guards are coming! Go! Now!" He almost pushed Dias outside.
Standing outside he saw no guards. Suddenly he felt as though there were two persons inside him, bickering, no fighting each other. "You fool. Do you think trying to impersonate me will save your precious friends?"
"Shut UP! This is my body! You shall do as I say!"
His draconic self cackled. "Idiot. The more you pretend to be me, the more power you'll give me. It's only a matter of time before -I- take over."
"You there! What are you babbling about? Who will take over what?" A guard had approached. Apparently Dias had been talking out loud.
"Uhm, well I'm rehearsing a play."
"A play? Well go rehearse somewhere else. Off with you."
"Yes Sir," Dias said meekly and he left towards the centre of town.
This was all becoming most frustrating. What can a mortal begin to do against a god? He was nothing but a puppet in the hands of Tarik at the moment. No matter if a god is good or evil, one doesn't simply tell them to shut up and quit playing with a mortal's life. They have the power to give life, but above all the power to take it. And some didn't even blink when it came to that. Fine, but what Tarik probably wanted was the draconic Dias. His soul belonged to Theus, as long as he didn't give it to any other god, no one could claim it. Well Gukathul had once done so under fall pretenses. But if any god could simply claim the soul of another god's worshipper, then why were there gods at all? Just to toy with mortals?
No, Dias firmly believed that if his faith in Theus remained true and he could keep his other side under control, he would be able to resist Tarik's call. But how to keep the other side in check? Something wasn't correct about that question. Of course certain recent events had changed him, but what was in him now had always been inside. He shouldn't be fighting this, for that would be fighting himself. He thought of Shaz'jen who was half-fiend. He was able to resist the lure of the dark side, thus it was possible. All these years, his training as a mage had reinforced his mind. He knew what he wanted and that was not to be the richest or most powerful man on Vives, nor did it include ruling armies and attacking elves. No, he wanted to be a sage, not a megalomaniac. There was a way, but he had to find out how. How does one embrace his dark side without falling? How to incorporate and deal with his draconic self? It was no possession as with a ghost or spirit which a cleric could chase away, nay, it was truly in him, in his blood, in his cells. No priest could help him in this, he had to do it himself. It was like trying to weave new threads into an already existing tapestry and adding new motifs. Not an easy thing, for a lot a near impossible task, but it was possible. It had to be, others had been able to do it.
Time would tell. |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
Re: Reflections: Not everyone is who he seems to be
Posted: 19 Jan 2004 04:14 AM |
“Tell me son, what do you want to be later?”
“I shall be a healer like you mother! So I can help others.”
The woman smiled. “Being a healer is an honourable profession Dias, but I think that you will follow a different path.”
The nine-year-old boy frowned. “But I want to be a healer and help people, just like you do.”
She gave him her mystery smile. “Time will tell my little one. But I'm sure you'll be able to help others.”
Dias gazed outside, his thoughts wandering back to that particular moment, now some 17 years ago. He had indeed learned how to heal others with herbal potions and concoctions, but now he no longer helped out in the Midor infirmary.
Inwardly smiling he recalled the time he had spent with his mother, learning about this or that plant. Years later Nottias had told Dias that his mother had always known he would pursue a wizardly career. Why she had known Nottias did not tell. Was it something he knew or had his mother never told him?
Suddenly sadness welled up from within the depths of his soul. His mother had died from a wasting disease, something not even the Midoran clergy could heal back then. In the end he had… no, he pushed the thoughts aside. Thinking about what he had done brought too much pain.
He was no longer looking outside, but staring at the reflection of his face in the window. What he saw there shocked him to the core. Dias blinked, thinking it had to be some trick of the light. Yet it did not matter, the image stayed the same. Staring back at him were a pair of eyes with mismatched irises. One was emerald green, while his other iris had now a vibrant, but light blue colour, like that of ice at the bottom of glaciers. Or rather, his right eye had returned to its former colour. What was going on –now-?
His thoughts flashed back to a few days earlier. They had found Siann Aikanaro, half drowned, at the shores of Paws’ coast. After the half-fiend recovered in Margrave’s cavern, Aros had appeared and he had welcomed Siann back. There it was decided to hold a meeting in Ferein, since Midor was now off limits for the Azure Lights. Dias cringed at the idea. He had promised to not set foot in the Elven lands until he was sure it was safe for him to be there. Although both Dias and his draconic half had come to terms, well more or less, the wizard wasn’t sure that Tarik couldn’t use him as some sort of conduit. Many of the elves present were new faces to Dias and they looked at him oddly when he declared that he could be a problem. But after much persuasion from the others Dias finally accepted.
The meeting would take place in the temple garden or was it garden temple? Siann took flight for he feared someone or something was in the clouds watching them. As the ground started vibrating at first and then shaking, Dias had enough presence of mind to cast his most powerful protective spell. At the exact same time his magic took effect, Loli disappeared leaving behind only charred grass reeking of sulphur and brimstone. If Dias had ever worn an incredulous look on his face it must have been at that time, for none other than Avari accused him of having done -something- to Loli. Aurelia, a pretty elf he had never met before demanded that he'd return her immediately. Dias didn't know whether to laugh at the idiocy of their statements or to be angry at them. The dragon blood in his veins felt like liquid fire, but he tried to remain calm.
"Do you honestly think I would send a close friend to someplace which stinks of sulphur?"
"Thee cast a spell and Loli disappeared. Do not take us for fools."
Great... I did warn them to keep an eye on me, he thought, but this is ridiculous. "Look at me and tell me if you see an aura around my body." They nodded somewhat reluctantly. "THAT is what I cast, a protective shell, for I had no idea what was going to happen." Apparently the elves could see the truth in his words, but there was still some doubt. "To prove to you that I had no hand in Loli's disappearance, I shall try to find her." He sat down his backpack and retrieved a golden orb from it. It took a lot of energy to find Loli, but eventually he did locate her. Dias paled visibly. The sphere showed that she was talking to someone he couldn't see, but that was not what worried him. He recognised her surroundings immediately, for he had been there once before. Loli was in the Hell of Lost Souls. Minutes later, which had seemed like hours, she returned and she explained to the others that Dias wasn't the one who had sent her there. At least they were polite enough to offer an apology.
Ah yes, they were wary for another reason as well. Without knowing, Dias spoke intermittenly Common and Draconic. The language of dragons is one of power and the ignorant might mistake it for some demonic babbling. Those who knew Dias and knew about him, were worried that his dragon side was getting the upper hand. The others... well they probably thought he was conversing with demons or had received one hit too many over the head. But it was beginning to make sense now to the mageling.
The weeks before the trial of Shaz'jen, Dias had remained in solitude on the island of Ka'azim. He filled his time with reading, studying and most important of all, talking to himself. Many would have labeled him insane, for he wasn't simply mumbling to himself as people sometimes do. His two halves actually conversed to each other. During those two weeks they had made a compromise.
Neither was willing to let the other have the upper hand. But Darastrix, the name chosen by his draconic self, didn't want to serve anyone either. And Tarik had made a mistake before he had summoned him: he had humiliated Darastrix. No matter that twelve quicklings are more than a match for anyone who is unprepared, no matter that he had killed all but four and wounded those! Darastrix had been nearly killed by them and for that he held a grudge against Tarik, but he was no fool either. No one stands up to a god, unless one is a god himself and apparently even then most are reluctant. But there are subtler ways, for example helping the enemy of Tarik. Darastrix would bow to no one but he did hold respect for Theus. Knowledge was power and power was what he craved.
Once again, Dias looked at his image in the glass pane. The mismatched irises somehow seemed to reflect the compromise Darastrix and Dias had worked out. For the first time in months, Dias felt truly alive again. He had mastered the most difficult spells and it was the combined might of both Dias and Darastrixthat powered the spells. He was as ready for Malagard’s minions as he would ever be.
Something had to go right for once. Right? |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
Re: Reflections: Not everyone is who he seems to be
Posted: 26 Jan 2004 08:51 AM |
“Well that was interesting.” The voice reverberated through the room.
“Interesting? Interesting?!? You nearly made me lose my temper!”
“Nearly? I think I succeeded quite well wouldn’t you agree? I drove at least one of those pesky elves away. What’s her name again? Ah yes… Avari. Oh and like a good dog, her husband followed her.” He grinned.
“What in the Nine Hells are you trying to accomplish? Driving a wedge between me and my friends? To what purpose? I thought you wanted Malagard gone just as badly as me.”
“Your friends?” he chuckled, “Truly do you think any of those elves consider you a friend? They loathe you because wherever you go, I go. Behind your back they mock you in their ghastly language.”
“Oh and I suppose you understand Elven?”
“Of course I do, I can understand and speak more languages than you will ever do. As for Malagard, yes he will have to go…” His lips formed a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course I wouldn’t mind if at least some of the elves died on the island.”
“I will not let you commit such atrocities! And do not think you’ll ever sway me with your lies. They are my friends, whatever you say.”
“As you were a friend to Fri’el? So easy to mislead that one. They torture her a bit, show her a few images and she considers them truth. For a priestess she’s not all that resilient eh? Oh and whatever happened to that halfling you were so endeared with? And have you told your dear friends what happened to your moth…”
“STOP IT!” He smashed his staff hard on the floor. Dias’ eyes were blazing, one showing an unearthly green colour, the other as blue as the palest sapphire.
“Temper, temper my dear Dias. You w…”
“Dias? Are you ok son?” Nottias’ voice came from the other side of his door. “Is there someone with you? I heard a shout and a loud clap.”
“I’m fine Nottias. I … bumped into my desk again. I just wasn’t paying any attention that’s all. It’s ok, thanks for your concern.”
The librarian nodded, but with doubt in his eyes. Normally Dias would open the door, but lately… “Be careful Dias. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.”
Exasperated Dias sat on the edge of his bed. “Do not –ever- bring up that subject again. Never, you hear me? For I will find a way to silence you forever. You will not talk about Quillian, not about any of my friends and not about our, no –my- mother. Even if it means harming myself I shall snuff you out like a candle flame.”
Darastrix paused, apparently he had struck a sensitive nerve here. Never before had he felt such cold rage, such hatred from the one he used to call weakling. It was disconcerting, but still nothing to worry about. Let him think he has won this battle for now, Darastrix mused, the war however is far from over.
“Fine, I won’t harm any of your elven friends.” At least not directly, he grinned inwardly.
“Oh no, do not think I’m satisfied with that. Not only will you not harm them, you will help them. Do you understand me? When they are in peril, you –will- help them. You will not deter my attention to something else.”
“FINE, so I won’t harm them at all. Are you satisfied now? Is there anything else your highness wants?”
“*Thric* It’ll do for now.”
“Are you not curious what new schemes the elves are preparing now? They threatened me and so they also threatened you.”
“You do see a threat in everything don’t you? Perhaps one day you’ll realise that the entire world is not only about you. But before that day comes, you better lend me your aid in the coming battle. Dragons are famous for their resistance to mind spells, are they not? Then you better protect me in that way, I have no intention of becoming a demon’s thrall and I bet neither are you.”
An infrasonic grumble shook the objects on the desk. “Fine. Alright. I’ll block them. I hope this is all, for my patience is wearing thin.”
Now it was Dias’ turn to smile. “Temper, temper my dear Darastrix. It’s in your and my best interest.” Darastrix remained finally silent. Looking outside the wizard tried to remember everything that had been said between Fri’el and him. But his thoughts drifted away, all he could hear was the Lord of the Death whispering to him “Everything has a price”. |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
Reflections: Thought In A Hot Bath
Posted: 29 Jan 2004 08:13 AM |
Loli lay back in her hot mineral bath for what seemed like the first time in weeks, although she must have bathed between times or she'd have noticed it. She just hadn't taken the time to relax and enjoy it. Tonight she had drunk a bit of the Elven wine she had made for her family. Normally she preferred good beer to wine, but the Elven wine had a pleasantly spicy flavor. Not to mention a slight erotic effect that she could have done without, given that she'd done without -that- ever since Siann showed up as her defender in front of the temple in Midor. But she almost grown accustomed to the constant presence of that hunger, and it wasn't high on her list of priorities these days anyway. As she soaked and sipped, her relaxed mind ran freely over many things.
Her old adventuring group ... well her most recent "old" adventuring group. Quillian, Dias, and Fri'el. The perfect group, with a rogue, a mage, a cleric and a fighter. They'd gone many places together, and each had become stronger faster in the company of all than they could have alone. Now they were nearly all lost to her, or perhaps all.
First Quillian. The black wedding gown stood foremost in her memory to symbolize that. She had given Quillian 10,000 GP so she could afford to buy the prettiest wedding gown in Vives to wear when she married Dias. And someone, maybe Gukathal or maybe not, turned it black when they tore from Quillian not only her love of Dias but also any recollection of having loved Dias or any interest in loving him again. Then she had wandered off, no one knew to where, after Gukathal had told them both in the Midor library that Dias would lose everyone he cared for.
Then Dias, already burdened by his horrible loss, was stricken by mind-control darts shot by quicklings under the guidance of Tarik. It seemed that Dias was either part Red Dragon by heredity, or had been made part Red Dragon by dragon blood in the dart. Loli wasn't sure, since she'd heard conflicting stories. The important thing was that he -was- now part Red Dragon and that part of him was gaining strength in an alarming fashion. Recently he'd terrorized a sales clerk in Port Royale, and he hadn't even known he did it until he suddenly became aware that he was about to kill her. Dias himself knew he was losing the battle, and no one seemed to know how to reverse that. Loli rather thought that Dias's problem was much like that of Siann and of Keimaini. In each of their cases it was love that had brought, or was going to bring, their better natures to the fore. Dias had lost all his loves, and who would dare to love him now with the constant danger of being suddenly confronted by his Red Dragon half?
And Fri'el. Loli shuddered. Returned to them as a pawn of Gukathal. Spouting hatred based on delusions that he had fed her, she believed that they had lured her to her doom with false friendships and lies. The truth of the matter was that she had not even been invited to the rescue where she freely offered her soul to Gukathal. Not that they would have turned down her help, but she had not been in Midor when Loli and Dias ran back looking for help. They had found Anandur, and it was Anandur who had saved the rest of the party from the group's original folly. And she also believed that they'd thrown a party after her demise, and that they'd had no intention of ever rescuing her. Neither of these things was true. Loli sighed.
Avari and Coruva wanted to take Fri'el along to fight Malagard, but Loli was sure this would not work. They had to all trust each other. Even if they could bring themselves to trust Fri'el, she did not trust them. She would only bring dissension, and probably failure, to the effort. The group had to be united by the bonds of trust and love, not torn apart by hatred and mistrust. Loli was not able to bring herself to trust Fri'el again anyway, given Fri'el's ranting about how it was Keimaini's fault that Fri'el had believed them to be her friends. She'd quite clearly reverted to the woman who had been gleefully torturing another, in the courtyard of Midor, in the company of Alenuska. What easier way to exact vengeance on those who had stopped her from that, than to destroy Keimaini right there in Malagard's lair? No, Fri'el could not be a help to them, and in fact was going to be a constant problem in the future. Always assuming there was a future after the fight with Malagard.
More dissension came from another quarter. Roka Arrowsong, Neek Starnipple's older foster child, had called a gathering of all the Elves. He wanted them to all move back to Ferein. He said that Malagard was not an Elven problem, and called for all the Elves to abandon the effort to defeat that powerful demon. Loli wondered if Neek know about this, and what he thought of it. Neek had agreed to help them, before, and had set Avari to training the young Elves to the task. Avari said she would not abandon the fight against Malagard unless Aros himself commanded it. None of them could believe that Aros would abandon the children of his paladin Valia, in their battle to save all of Vives from the same demon to which she had fallen in times past. But Roka had also expressed interest in collecting the bounty which Malagard was offering for Loli. Loli shook her head. What had gotten into him, anyway? Perhaps his stay as a captive of the quicklings, during the time of battle against Tarik, had not failed to leave a mark.
At least Midor did no longer seem totally, hopelessly lost to evil. The Midor Guard continued to aid them where they could, although the meeting with their commander had not yet come about. Now a Midoran priest was aiding them, as well. Perhaps when Ty was freed from Malagard, he could lead the effort to cleanse the Midoran Temple hierarchy. Or Anandur, although the Knight Captain had been gone so long that Loli feared he had been taken captive also. Perhaps not by Malagard, but by whatever force had sent that blackguard at him in Cold Canyon. Gukathal, perhaps? Anandur had told them, at that time, that the blackguard was internal business of the Midoran Church. Father Marick was supposed to have been researching who the fallen knight was and what force might have turned him. Perhaps this was the beginning of Father Marick's own downfall. Yes, this made sense to Loli. Gukathal was probably an ally of Malagard, at least short-term, and he was probably behind the blackguard, Father Marick's corruption, and Anandur's disappearance. Perhaps Commander Melchor could gather those yet un-corrupted, possibly ones such as Arasus, and recover Anandur from where he was confined. Then Melchor, Ty and Anandur together could cleanse the Midoran Temple hierarchy with whatever aid they chose to use.
Ah well, time to get out of this bath, dry off, and go to bed and sleep, she thought. And that's what she did.
|
Dieties preserve us from the evil chaotics named Lag, Crash, and Server Reset.
PCs: Loli Dankirk (Ftr 18/Brd 8.5 @ 1777 hrs) left Vives for Origins; Gnora Gnombody (Sor 5 @ 54 hrs) and Amanda Stark (Wiz 3 @ ~10 hrs) left Vives for Feline Providence. |
|
|
|
|
Xaranthir's thoughts
Posted: 03 Feb 2004 10:02 AM |
As a follower of Theus I believe that knowledge is most supreme, particularly in its raw form, the idea. An idea has no weight but can move mountains. It has no height but it can dominate a nation. It has no mass but it can push aside empires. Knowledge is the greatest tool of humankind, outweighing anything made by mortal hands. Before anything can exist, the idea must exist.
I study the organisation of knowledge. The word information has little character, because information, without relevance or context, is useless. Knowledge, however, is that piece of relevant information that has importance to a patron. My skills enable me to take the one piece of information from the vast cultural ocean our society has created and bring it to the individual who needs it.
It’s a great thing. To me, there is no greater thing – to share your knowledge for the benefit of others.
It’s what I do. |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
Re: Xaranthir's thoughts
Posted: 24 Feb 2004 03:34 PM |
To me, there is no greater thing – to share your knowledge for the benefit of others.
It’s what I do.
Huddled behind the rock bluff, Loli listened to Xaranthir talking to Fri'el, the cleric of Gukathal. She had come to meet him, to give him four malar panther leathers and some more enchanting oils for his bag manufacturing. But he hadn't said he was bringing Fri'el with him! Loli dodged into hiding, hoping they would move on so she could run in the other direction. Fri'el was bemoaning the escape by a torture victim the day before, a young paladin of Midoran. To her horror, Loli heard Xaranthir explain in clear detail to Fri'el how she could use this event to cause even more terror in both her victim and any who might hear of the tale. Fri'el was delighted and grateful for Xaranthir's insights. His reply: "Well I offer my advice freely." |
Dieties preserve us from the evil chaotics named Lag, Crash, and Server Reset.
PCs: Loli Dankirk (Ftr 18/Brd 8.5 @ 1777 hrs) left Vives for Origins; Gnora Gnombody (Sor 5 @ 54 hrs) and Amanda Stark (Wiz 3 @ ~10 hrs) left Vives for Feline Providence. |
|
|
|
|
Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer
Posted: 25 Feb 2004 04:22 AM |
Ever since Kusin stopped going from Midor to Port, the number of people taking the land route via the Kobai lands has increased ten-fold. Not surprising that one is bound to run into others.
After talking to the Midoran Paladin Xixili in Port Royale, I decided to go to Midor on foot. Not only does this save me quite a few gold pieces, but it’s healthy to stretch the legs. A healthy mind in a healthy body! Of course there are some minor inconveniences to taking this route, one being encountering several of the indigenous species. I shan’t thread into much detail, but scorpion men, scorpions the sizes of a mastodont and manticores are not a pleasant lot. You can’t have a decent conversation with them, in fact they attack on sight. I’d so love to write the history of the scorpion men, but alas… they are too warlike for me. My pardon for I am digressing and this is not about what creatures reside where.
A good walk into Kobai Canyon I met Gukathul’s chosen, the priestess Fri’el. She is not my enemy, but this does not mean I approve of all her ways. As we usually do, we exchanged several pleasantries, until Fri’el asked me if I had met a Midoran recently. Well as I live in Midor I do see a lot of Midorans, so I asked to shed some light on the matter, to narrow it down.
“Blonde. Rude. Annoying. Teeth like a chipmunk.” Fri’el answered with a sneer.
“That doesn’t ring a bell here.” And as a matter of fact such a descritpion might fit a few thousand people. “So what does he or she look like?”
“Oh I made that last bit up. She's about 5'7''... Whimpers like a child when you hurt her. Blue eyes.” And with a blatantly envious voice she added, ”And she has really long haird, all the way down that stupid cloak of hers.”
Well that certainly narrowed it down, except for the hurting part. Hurt me enough and I might also whimper.
“And she wears that stupid paladin armour.”
“Ah, I met someone who fits that description.” She was talking about Xixili obviously.
“Oh?”
Fri’el and Midorans aren’t exactly friends and having stated that she already hurt Xix or seen her being hurt, I decided to tell a half-lie. “Aye, but she left towards Midor by ship.” Well we did meet at the docks and she seemed to go back to Midor. Besides, I prefer the term half-truth.
“Bloody hell! I.. want… to talk to her."
One of my eyebrows rose slightly. “Oh?”
“She was very rude yesterday. Very rude.”
“How most unwise of her.” This was the truth, being rude to Fri’el, no matter who you are, is a stupid thing to do.
“I know! She was just, like, I won't bow to you! You're not better than me! And I was just, like, what-ever...”
I merely nodded. “When next I see her I shall tell her to address you properly.” Again very much the truth, but I doubt that a paladin will listen to my counsel regarding this.
“Please do,” Fri’el smirked, something she did a lot lately, “At least my spell is still on her. Even if she did run away.” She frowned now. “I was going to have some fun with her, but she escaped.”
“Oh?” My tone was neutral, casual even. “What spell was that?” This question would hardly be a surprise coming from me, after all have I not been accused of always asking questions?
“Oh, the one which really hurts. It’s like a ray of negative energy, but it lasts forever.” Her eyes gleamed with joy, or was it simply madness?
“Ah, I see… that one.” Good, it was something which could be counterspelled or ended. “She must have really annoyed you then.”
“She did! She said that I'd get eaten by a bear or something like that!”
“The audacity!” I think I might start an acting career after this. Knowledge comes at a cost… I wonder if anyone realises what toll this is taking on me.
“Indeed! She's just horrid! I’m going to kill her.” She spat venomously.
My thoughts went into overdrive. “But Fri’el killing her won’t accomplish anything.”
“It'll be fun. You can watch if you want.”
Cold and numbness descended down my spine, my face however remained calm. “Think about this Fri’el. Now she can tell everyone what a powerful person you are!”
“Oooh.”
“That even now she is suffering because of you!”
“She can, can't she!”
“Although she's a paladin and Midoran's power is supposed to protect her, she is still suffering from it tremendously.”
“Because my Lord is better than hers..”
“Imagine how frightened everyone will be when they hear that! A paladin of Midoran in the grasp of Gukathul’s messenger!”
“Yes.. they'll be so scared..” Again she smirked. “I didn’t think about it that way. And she's going to suffer so -much- from this spell!”
Poor Xixili… Well at least I managed to keep her alive. Now I only have to find a way to stop that spell from working without getting directly involved. Hmmm… I smiled inwardly. A word here, a whisper there,… yes this would work admirably. Forgive me Midoran, but I shall have to implant bits and pieces of information in some of your followers.
“Well I offer my advice freely, Fri’el.” A smile lit up my face, but only because I knew I was going to keep Xixili alive. Well at least for a while yet.
Our conversation was interrupted when we heard the sound of battle. It appeared to be coming from one of the side canyons. In we went, only to find several werecats dead. Fighting between them? It mattered little given the circumstances.
Xixili would have to endure the pain a bit longer, but that would end soon. And nothing could be traced back to me. After all the idea would come from a few Midorans themselves, or so it would appear at least. Yes, charms and enchantments have their uses…
A friend once told me ‘Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer’. Fri’el is not my enemy, but that doesn’t mean I approve of her methods. However… I am not an idiot either. Her power is immense and only a fool would oppose her directly in this. So I work from the shadows. People might loathe me as they see only that I am in cahoots with Fri’el, but I care little about that. And it is time to search for a suitable candidate for the implantation of the thoughts. |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
Re: Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer
Posted: 28 Feb 2004 08:36 AM |
Loli thought over what Luther had told her, and what Shaz'jen had suggested, about Xaranthir's behavior. She decided she could credit the idea that Xaranthir was actually saving lives, but whether that was his intent or simply a by-product of his spending time with Fri'el in order to gain her help in his quest for wealth and power she was not at all sure. Either way, she could not bring herself to obtain personal gain by spending time in the company of someone whose methods she abhored. Xaranthir's domination of the ettin, in order to force him to kill his fellows, had revolted her to the core. Much longer ago, he had shocked her by offering to torture Captain Dandy with nightmares until the man broke for lack of sleep. Maybe these were the only ways a magic-user could influence people. They weren't her ways to follow. If a person wasn't intrinsically evil, she could work with them against a common foe, but Xaranthir had resigned from the one task he could have helped them with. And the reason was because they would not trust Fri'el, who was not only evil herself but the willing servant of an evil god.
She shook herself to full awareness then, and left the Midor Law Courts. In two or three days she would know whether it even mattered to her.
|
Dieties preserve us from the evil chaotics named Lag, Crash, and Server Reset.
PCs: Loli Dankirk (Ftr 18/Brd 8.5 @ 1777 hrs) left Vives for Origins; Gnora Gnombody (Sor 5 @ 54 hrs) and Amanda Stark (Wiz 3 @ ~10 hrs) left Vives for Feline Providence. |
|
|
|
|
Anomalies
Posted: 03 Apr 2004 07:59 AM |
The children of Syn, more commonly known as vampires, are interesting from a certain perspective. I’ve had several run ins with them in the past and of course there was that invitation of the Count. Some of his underlings I defeated, only to see them return days later. There are no sure ways of defeating vampires, at least not to my knowledge. The common belief amongst the populace that a stake to the heart would kill or garlic would drive them away was nothing but a myth. Something in Maldovia prevented their ultimate demise. Was it Syn himself nurturing His children back to that semblance of life? Not even my most powerful magic or that of many clerics and paladins seemed to be able to kill them permanently.
It has been quite a while since I met those nightwalkers, but everything I knew about them came back the moment I had met Mykal in Midor. Sinjin and Macha had told me that the paladin of Midoran had changed. The mind meld with Blanche only revealed that this was indeed true. What paladin would slay his own brother and then threaten an innocent priestess? That same night I had spoken to him, I also informed Solitaire and Sirac about what had happened. But I failed to mention one very important issue, something too dreadful to contemplate at that particular time.
As with vampires, I imagine all sorts of stories are being told about mages, one being more fantastic than the other. Often people in Midor look at me with a hint of fear in their eyes, not so much in awe of what I can do, but most likely for what they thought I could possibly do. I can see it in their eyes, they are unsure whether it is possible for me to read their minds, to find out their deepest secrets. It is possible of course, the mind meld with Blanche a direct proof of that. Yet, not even I can pick out the thoughts of those passing me. Of course what most seem to forget is that watching their eyes and face can give enough information about what is going on inside them. This is why Quies claimed to hate me some two months ago. She is an expert at analysing other’s facial expressions, but ever since I became Xaranthir my eyes have become mirrors. Not of my soul, but reflecting the onlooker’s own feelings right back at them. For one such as Quies it was a most disturbing feature, as she was no longer able to predict anything about me.
A brief while my thoughts drifted back to that time, but the matter of Mykal Vecar snapped me back to the present. I said that he reminded me of a vampire, but that’s not entirely accurate. I do not know whether it is my training of a mage, the blessings of my Lord or my more obscure draconic heritage, but I am able to sense anomalies. It is not a reading of the mind per se, but rather a 6th sense I developed. Ever since I became aware of my ancestor’s blood I have been able to recognise those with a similar heritage. There was Vela, who vied with Darastrix - my evil alter ego – for the control of Tarik’s army. But there were others: Soapie, a most enigmatic halfling of whom I can get no height; Muga Bugbreath, that powerful half-orc who’s always to be found in the presence of Ilyana, a priestess of Naruth. Her fiery beauty was only matched by her temperament and personality, truly fitting to the Goddess of Fire. Yet with these people I feel a certain kinship.
The same cannot be said with vampires. Where Ilyana and the others feel like an incandescent fire to which I am drawn, Syn’s Children repulse me. With them it is the absence of a soul. Syn is often referred to as The Void and that is exactly what I can feel in the Maldovians: nothingness, emptiness, the utter and total lack of anything living. I have seen many undead during my travels, I have met the Lord of Death and the Undead himself. It must have been one of the most frightening moments in my existence, but even this bleaks compared to what I felt when I was in the presence of Count Valinor. I have survived the effects of what is known as the most powerful magic in the lands, a Hellball. A most spectacular event that was. A tiny spark of magic spiralling around Fri’el and me, drawing slowly nearer and increasing in energy until finally it blossomed into a burst of brilliant and vibrant colours… but the pain… the pain is indescribable. Given the choice between being at the receiving end of yet another such a magical blast or having to watch the eyes of Count Valinor, I would choose for the Hellball. This is how much he frightens me. I have stood before dragons and seen others run away in fright, while I bartered for a life, but the Count imbues terror into me.
And how does all this tie in with Mykal? I finally understand why I stayed my hand from healing him that night I met him, although he was rather badly wounded. The paladin felt alien. I was able to discern some sort of twisted emptiness. As with vampires, he was physically there, but what I found highly disturbing was that he had no presence. No that is not accurate. Something was there, but it was not Mykal’s own soul. Something was possessing him, leeching of the corpse that was now Mykal. I surmise that whoever did this to him must also have his stored his soul, for the body was not undead. I know of several magical rituals, all forbidden, which can have the effects I sensed in Mykal. One such ritual isn’t all that different from the mind meld I practiced on Blanche. Mind melds have been forbidden for exactly that reason. In times long past numerous cases have been reported where the practitioners had changed bodies. These had always been accidents and I am truly convinced that such is not the case with Mykal. Someone or something had exchanged the soul of the paladin for its own. If the paladin is to be saved in any way, and I am not even talking about redemption in the eyes of Midoran, then I hope that his soul has somehow been preserved.
And even then… As with a lich’s phylactery the soul of a person is most often stored in some gem. Suffice to say that even when they are restored, if too much time has passed they have become mad from the confinement. My only hope lies in trying to discern where this entity that now occupies Mykal’s body comes from.
I have warned Anandur Barradon, Warden and Knight-Captain of Midor. Already had he heard about the changes in Mykal’s personality, but I believe my news may have startled him somewhat.
Of that I am not entirely sure though, as last night was indeed a most peculiar one. As I was talking to Sinjin on the Great Plains we suddenly saw a figure appear out of nowhere. An aura of power permeated the air and this heavily armoured figure, according to Sinjin either an orc or a half-orc, commanded formidable magicks indeed. The next moment the very earth on which we stood reverberated as shockwaves travelled through the ground. The orc had blasted open the gates of Gorlath’s keep with magic so powerful I felt dwarfed. Sinjin and I fled to Midor as we knew that we were no match for whatever forces were fighting each other on the plains. This is when we met up with the Warden and Luther.
Not only had Captain Melchor disappeared, but so did a squad of three Midoran knights while investigating the keep. According to Anandur fell forces were at work inside the keep and he asked me about the previous demonic invasion there. Alas I could not remember all that much, as a Gelugon –an ice demon- had killed me at that time. Only with the help of Fri’el, Balthor and several others had my companions and I been saved. And now the evil was back…
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw in the keep’s main room. Two huge mounds of undead flesh lumbered towards us, together with two creatures I had never seen outside Maldovia. Knowing fully well that if I did not help my comrades in arms immediately I unleashed my most powerful spells. The power surge of harnessing these magicks caused the blood in my ears to drone out any other sound. All I could see was how Sinjin, Luther and Anandur did their utmost best to parry the blows from the undead creatures and strike whenever possible. My magic didn’t bring the monstrosities down but it sapped enough of their life, or was it unlife, so the others could finish them.
What was going on here? Those gargantuan guardians I once saw in the tomb of lost souls, so how did they get here? And why were Maldovian creatures fighting alongside them? These questions played over and over in my head as we descended into the cellars. What we found there was at least as disturbing. According to Anandur it was some sort of spectre, but this was no normal one. It fought the three warriors at the same time so fiercely, all I could do for a while was stare dumbfounded.
But if the battle had been fiercesome until now, the upper level had a few surprises for us. It literally was crawling with both demons and devils, working hand in hand or would that be claw in claw? My mind tried to catalogue them, however I soon ceased that as one of the demons tried to dispel my wards. The four, no five as I had summoned an elemental to aid us, waded into the thick of battle. Once more I released the powers stored within me to soften up the enemies. But even had I been commanding all my magic, I would never have been able to defeat that many. Anandur’s sword became a blur of movement and the fists of the two monks flashed everywhere. All but three spells spent and some of us battered and bruised we had a final task to undertake: Gorlath’s room.
I am not really sure what happened in there. As the door opened all I could see was a balor, well a slightly larger and meaner looking version. Which brings me to a whole other discussion: how can anything look meaner than a balor? But again I did not have the time to think about it at the time. I blasted it out of the way with two storms of force missiles so the others could gain entrance. Alas that also left me without any sort of magic to get rid of the one demon that did slip through. Too my horror the door to the room closed and there I was with a being having stepped directly out of a nightmare. There was one last resort, but I always hesitate to use that. Slowly it advanced on me, unsure of whether I was able to blast it to kingdom come or not. When I tried to block its sword thrust with my staff it grinned as only demons can and it pressed forward relentlessly. Many times I could feel the bite of the acid dripping longsword and at the time I decided to change into an iron golem and sweep the floor with this insolent being, my companions returned. A split second later the demon lay dead on the floor.
When finally we emerged victorious from the keep a lot of questions remained unanswered. Why was the gate destroyed by the orc with near-divine powers? Or was it truly a divine being? Was this a war between Gorlath and another evil force with Midor in the midst of it all? How was Gorlath able to summon undead, servants of Syn, demons and devils? Was the evil truly destroyed or would it be back again sooner or later? The questions kept piling up and no answers were forthcoming. It seemed we were living in interesting times indeed…
*OOC*
Comments are welcome. I realise that the first part is quite different from the second part (gorlath's keep), but call me lazy in not wanting to split it up. Apart from that, I would like to hear some feedback. :-)
*OOC* |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
A Warden's Hopes and Fears
Posted: 03 Apr 2004 10:05 AM |
*An excerpt from a book by the hand of Anandur Barradon*
Today, another report of fell creatures close to the city. I believed perhaps the dead had risen anew within the burial grounds? Souls there no longer sleep peacefully... come to think of it, more often than not disturbances are reported originating thither...
But not the dead walked, for a guard spoke of the very earth trembling, a loud explosion to be heard in the distance. Yoran, second son of my old companion Darren, was the one patrolling the outer gates at this hour. He ventured forth... he found the gates of Gorlath Keep in ruins - utterly destroyed, naught was left.
.......
... disturbed by demons once before. I felt unease, increasingly so as I walked away from the temple. Where was Melchor? I might have need of his strength in arms. He was not to be found, performing tasks elsewhere. The other paladins and champions? Also occupied with matters elsewhere...
Midor the bastion of paladins? Our numbers grow small or at least our efficiency to apply what strength we have left, is slowly faltering.
Unsurprisingly, the priests would not come... although one must understand they fear for their reputation, nurturing the wounds inflicted by that demon spawn - Marick Fetter. The union that was Midor is crumbling... I have noted it, now I must merely remember...
........
... not much choice left. I asked a small group of knights to ride ahead and secure the plains. They are young, I should have realized they would not stop at the sight of the empty great plains. Reckless souls, have they not learnt anything in the academy? Once more this strengthens my belief, one must first face death and fear in person, afore one's mind overcomes the youthful ignorance of the heart.
'Tis ironic how Midor's fate time and time again falls upon the shoulders of those not directly in her service. Will they fault me for stepping into the Wayward Adventurer in search of aid? I am but one Champion, gifted with some talents... but no match for hordes of undead or powerful magic. Experienced adventurers - their heart and mind steeled through hardships - an invaluable support. Ah, what I would not give at times to go back to those times of wandering, an everlasting quest to sate our curiousity. As we progressed we grew wise, yet also old... Only three of us left now. I must look them up one of these days.
... Luck was with me when I stumbled upon a monk (a man named Sinjin) and the wizard Dias. It seems they had been witness to the disturbance which plagued the Great Plains. They reported the sighting of a heavily armoured figure... who blew up the gate to the Keep. Gorlath's nemesis? An ally of Midor? Or merely another demon to threaten the peaceful nature of our fair City?
... questions I grow weary of them. Even the answers I found, I now mistrust... as Marick was the provider. What was true, and what is not? It seems years of searching... all in vain.
....
When I left the temple, Dias and Sinjin awaited me near the gate. One of their friends was with them, another monk (note: Luther). Warriors mentally disciplined ... supportive magic, indeed not all of Midoran's blessing has waned! He brought me powerful companions. Heart strengthened I set forth... only to be disheartened moments later when upon the plains none of the knights were to be found...
An ill token, and my fear materialized when we entered the keep and found a mangled body... Beyond salvation. The others were not even to be seen, I know not what has become of them. Four more lives lost, and they look up to you, Warden?
... the air was thick with malice. Demon spawn awaited us within the great Hall, ones not sighted in the keep before. These were no spirits of Gorlath's past. Had the fell ghost risen anew? Has he acquired means to summon these malignant servants? ...
The cellars were reigned by a spectre... one I have never encountered upon my countless travels. My unease grew, although the bravery of my companions steeled my mind... Our resolve was strong, we pressed onward...
Upstairs diabolical creatures lurked in ambush. They sought to overwhelm us with their numbers... some of these demons I have seen elsewhere... but it is too soon to make any assumptions... I do not know how we managed, yet we came out the victors, only to be assailed by more demons as we cleared a path towards the bedchambers.
... These creatures have had to be summoned, I am sure of it.
Note: Some doors were already open, when we passed by. Has the heavily armoured stranger been in the keep as well? Might he have summoned some of the creatures we encountered?
.....
... a magical device carried by Dias. Fully rested we prepared for a final rush. In my mind I contemplated ways to wrest answers from Gorlath... and to be ready for whatever awaited us within the final room. The silence was foreboding. And indeed, as we opened the door... no one could have prepared us for what we were about to find. Terrifying beings, too horrifying to look upon, wretched beasts wraught with the darkest intent... only one thing on their mind: end our lives.
We put up a mighty struggle, and in the fray I soon lost track of my companions... I prayed in silence, and thanked Midor for his gifts... The demons had no control over my mind or heart. My limbs were strong with faith and hope. I struck several down, until I spotted one of the monks... I rushed to his aid and slowly but surely we gained the upperhand. Relief surged when the room was empty... yet where was Dias?
Cries in the hallway, the wizard was locked out and in peril! Without tarry we came to his aid... no need. (note: when we stumbled upon Dias... he commanded a powerful undead being, strange) The wizard's power has grown - considerably.
Once more... nothing. There was nothing. No scroll, book, paper... nothing to hint as to why these occurences took place. Gorlath disappeared before I could bid him halt, I was too distracted. So what is to be done?
... Wait, as always, the dreadful waiting.
Note: Speak to Melchor and recruit veteran warriors to keep a closer watch on Gorlath Keep. We must not be surprised a third time.
Whatever happened in the keep... we put a stop to it. I know not for how long... but other matters require my attention. Some of these must be linked... the coincidence is too great. And naturally, the day did not end before another concern was brought to my attention.
Mykal, the paladin missing for a while now, it seems he is far from well. Not upon a quest of solitude... The tidbits of information Dias and one of the monks provided (Luther I believe...) are... disturbing. He might be possessed, controlled... or even no longer himself. Another paladin lost? I hope not... I will attempt to find him, yet Midoran knows I need aid. Where are my brethren? So far it has been Melchor mostly to relieve some of my burdens, although his primary tasks lie within the City and not beyond her walls. How much longer ought I prey upon his resources?
Mykal is of later concern. I was told a name... and again Maldovia is mentioned. Another persistent blemish upon the world. Perhaps I must go there once more. The Count eludes me... I have no hold over him, our strength no longer reaches thus far. Luck, I must rely on luck these days. Ah the irony...
Finally rest, albeit a few hours. 'Tis welcome, a dreamless sleep.
*OOC: Thanks to Luther, Sinjin and Dias for a wonderful Rp experience, I enjoyed it. Seek them out to hear the tale. And a great post, Dias, it is always fun to read about character's personal perspective on matters.*
*OOC: Edited to remove the Shinjin error. Sorry about that, somehow I have Shinjin stuck in my head... I think because of 'Shinji' reminding me of something, although I have not the slightest clue as to what it reminds me.* |
Why can't I PM myself?
Don't iron out the Irony. |
|
|
|
|
Re: A Warden's Hopes and Fears
Posted: 03 Apr 2004 03:13 PM |
***OOC***
Well written Phoenix. This is the sort of work I imagine coming from Xaranthir with quill in hand, tea at his side and continual flame lighting the night nearby.
Most enjoyable.
***OOC*** |
-Narenia
Main PC: Dina Islme |
|
|
|
|
Re: A Warden's Hopes and Fears
Posted: 04 Apr 2004 06:27 AM |
Beautifully written and I like the mix of styles and stories :)
Jane
aka Solitaire
aka Ilyana Fiirhaart |
- Solitaire, Wizard
- Ilyana Fiirhaart, High Priestess of Naruth |
|
|
|
|
Re: A Warden's Hopes and Fears
Posted: 05 Apr 2004 05:34 PM |
OOC:
Kane, Sinjin Kane.
Sinjin. my name is Sinjin. Not Shinjin. =p
thanks for a great event. =) |
Humbly Submitted,
Sinjin Kane |
|
|
|
|
An invitation to dinner
Posted: 15 Apr 2004 11:58 AM |
Curiosity… a simple word, but one with many meanings. To some it is a desire or an inclination to know or learn about something, while to others ‘tis nothing but a fancy or a whim. Although often I nearly preach carefulness to others, I find myself prey to its opposite. I have an inquisitive desire to know or to learn, often about matters that do not concern me. ‘tis a skill that requires a certain cleverness or ingenuity if one wishes to remain alive at all times. Quite often curiosity can lead one into situations that are hazardous at the very least. And this I know all too well.
Two days past I was lecturing Ronan about the three Sisters –Naruth, Helkris and Vilyave-, for he wished to know more about a certain individual. I often wield words of power, yet when I spoke to him there were no hidden phrases of summoning. Was it a mere coincidence that Lani, high priestess of Naruth, appeared then and there in my lodgings? Coincidence and chance, two words which have to be used with care when it concerns the gods and beings of power. For there is no doubt that she is powerful, immensely so even. As we conversed in the tongue of my ancestor, poor Ronan sat there looking bewildered. Fortunately I had been able to tell him about the essence of Naruth and the other two sisters and thus he knew that Lani was not an ordinary woman. Her slight built belies her strength, which would put giants to shame. But more importantly to me and something I only found out during our brief conversation, she contained knowledge of one far older than she appeared to be. I would have estimated her around 20 years of age, but that is only the outward appearance.
Although she had originally come for Ronan she invited the three of us, as Soapie had also arrived, for dinner in Fiirhallen. Reason told me to be cautious, but curiosity took over. Here I had the chance to talk to someone who seemed to know about the rise –and subsequent fall- of Aristi, one who could tell me about the Lynaeum when fighters from all over the world tested their mettle in the arena. The opportunity was simply too good to resist.
About half an hour later Soapie, Ronan and me trotted off towards the volcano. The kobolds and hill giants apparently hadn’t been informed and they incurred heavy losses as they tried to stall us. If I knew that one of them could read I’d sent them a letter long ago, stating that when they see me they should refrain from attacking. I do not find killing these miserable beings particularly pleasant, but those who attack me will not get away with impunity. True to her word (I must admit I was truly amazed) the denizens of Fiirhallen let us pass. I still felt somewhat uneasy, but who wouldn’t? Giants wielding swords twice one’s size isn’t exactly what I would call comforting.
At the head of a long table was Lani, high priestess of Naruth and the one who really held the power in Fiirhallen. She welcomed and bid us to take seats. She waved her hand and out of nowhere soup appeared scalding in skull white bowls. Come to think of it, I suspect they once were skulls, of what species however I do not know. As she literally summoned the main course, plates of veal, rothe, lamb, chicken and –according to Lani- most delicious frost giant fingers, we discussed and talked about the Lynaeum. Many things I learned that night.
Ah and the wine! The bottles had to have been stored magically of course, for the heat inside Fiirhallen would otherwise have destroyed them. But what vintage! Never had I tasted such quality. One of the elven bottles was over half a millennium old. Every other bottle of wine I had ever tasted paled in comparison to this one. I simply could not imagine that something as good as this existed.
Before desert was delivered, Soapie honoured the high priestess with a song, one about an old halfling that died of excess. Considering the amount of food that had been offered to us, it was a rather fitting tribute. Of course the night could not have ended without Soapie telling us to leave no heeltaps (or ‘eeltaps as she pronounced it). The wine had a too divine palate to leave even a single droplet in our goblets.
However when Soapie and Lani started talking Halfling I couldn’t get the feeling out of my head that they wanted to get me drunk. Most likely they thought that my dragon half would get the upper hand and join –their- cause. That would involve a long wait indeed. For a moment I once more feared that Lani would decide I’d be a good addition to the temple, however after desert we were allowed free passage once more.
*OOC*More to follow about the events on the great plains and his thoughts on those happenings, plus a few other tidbits... [I hate demons]*OOC* |
Luther McIath: I see, so [X is] the right person in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time.
[Fictrix] ... And can speak French, like both! Wait, I mean Elven. |
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|