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Author The Silence (invite only)
Demon Lord Ten


Posted: 2002-06-10 04:57     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
ooc: this thread is invite only. you will recieve a message of some kind if you are invited. If you decide you're bored please write yourself out. Other than that I want this to be fun so before you do anything to another person's character you MUST ask if they approve by some means. No I am not discontinueing my other thread, Collision.

IC
Throughout history there have been myths and legends of the supernatural... how these come to be no-one can say.... but there are records in every major government in the world of at least one documented case of the undead, the immortal, or the supernatural. Whole religeons are based on myths and legends such as these... the supernatural god of the christians who stretched forth his finger and wrote in stone... A man who obtained enlightenment and so vanished from the face of the planet to become a body of pure energy at one with the planet itself... druids who practiced rituals designed to cause supernatural occurances... and then... there are the shapechangers... of whom there are only two recorded cases... nobody knows how they got thier abilities or where they come from... nobody knows how they USE thier abilities or to what ends they might serve.

Such things are often based on fact... how much, we might never know... but... then again...




As the beryl sat lifelessly in front of him, he wondered at its properties... how such an utterly worthless stone could harness and focus so much energy was beyond his capacity to understand...

The spell had taken hours... and now this lifeless, ugly stone had become a force known only twice before in history... Set in a silver talisman heated in the blood of a red dragon, molded in a cast made of a gryphon's bone, and cooled in waters blessed by both darkness and light.

The talisman itself was probably not worth more than 10 coppers... a small sum if anything... it seemed to bend the space around it... causing the eyes to inadvertantly drift away from it... the silver had been cast into an elliptical shape that housed the sign of infinity with a double helix stretched across it sideways... in the center where the neverending loops crossed was set a dark beryl no larger than the nail on the little finger of a small child. Perhaps a centimeter across....

The enchantments placed upon it had taken months of rough work... to find and kill a dragon... to curse its blood and melt the silver... to kill a gryphon and carve the mold in the femur...

It had taken even more time to enchant the silver... the words of the incantations as it was melted and forged stretching across an expanse of days...

smoothing and polishing the talisman had taken quite a while too... all the while speaking the words of the most powerful spells to cause the eyes to pass over it without seeming to notice... If one were not HOLDING it... it would be almost impossible to find for all but its maker.

Then it had been engraved... the outer ring of the elipse covered in engraved runes forgotten by the races of the world for ages... almost since the dawn of christianity.

And when, at last, the medallion was finished the stone had needed empowering...

These last three hours had been almost unbearable... sapping all of his strength to pour into the worthless stone... In the rough candlelight, it seemed like it was just a rock... cut and polished so that it looked like a joke of a gem. But now, lying on the floor of the room staring up at the cieling, he could feel the massive strength of the medallion radiating throughout the cavern.

He had found the cave years ago while searching for lost tomes, and deep in its bowels he had found the book of the helix... two thousand pages describing only ONE thing... this finished medallion...

When he had finally gone to set the stone in the enchanted silver, it had resisted... almost pushing HIM away from the small talisman... It had taken all of his strength to finally force it in its place and finish the metalwork.

The cave itself was amazing in its expanse... the dank, musky odor of rot clinging to its walls... those walls that had been carved out to resemble the bricks of a fortress... the spiral staircases leading deep into the earth...

As his vision faded and he lost consciousness he was vaguely aware that the torches in thier sconces on the walls had lost the flame they bore not five minutes ago.... though it could have been a matter of years from what he knew... and then... darkness.


Five days later

He stepped forward, wincing at the brightness of the sun. The sounds coming from the forest beyond the clearing at the mouth of the cave were almost deafening after 2 hours of the sullen footsteps that lead him back to the mouth of the cave...

How long he had slept he did not know... but the effects had been far more than he would have believed... The ritual had gone perfectly.

He traced a finger around the rim of the silver at his throat and smiled at the wild, pulsating energy there. It had taken him so long and now his dream was realized... what to do now though.... he would just have to set another goal...

He took a few tentative steps into the brush and grinned... already the weakness in his legs was fading. The birds chirped out thier happy tunes blissfully unaware of what was passing through thier ranks. Here and there were the tracks of a deer that had passed in wetter weather, but such things were trivial right now. He needed to reach the town.

Step after step... one foot in front of the other he advanced through the shallow forest and by the time he reached the edge it was nightfall.

There, under the weak light of the setting sun, was the town.. oil lamps burning to provide light for reading... drinking at the tavern... perhaps eating a late meal or closing up shop. Whatever they were for... the town was there... and as he entered it... he grinned again.

He took a left down the second path and went to the fourth building on the right... looking up at the sign with a cheap golden cup painted on it and, for those who could read, the words "The Golden Chalice" painted in white beneath it.

He entered, taking in the welcome aroma of ale and warm bread. Some variety of stew simmering in the kitchen, and the smell of burnt beef.

Quickly seating himself, he looked up at the serving boy and ordered half a loaf of bread, a bowl of stew, and a single tankard of ale... consuming it with an extreme speed that easily betrayed his ravenous hunger.

That done he dropped 3 copper coins on the table and asked where he could buy a horse, quickly making some story about how his had died tragically after breaking its leg and having to be left behind.

Off in the corner, oblivious to the would-be sorcerer, a man in brown leathers eyed him, fingering the dagger at his waist.

The sometime-tavern owner/sometime-innkeep told him that the stables were three streets north and one street west.... and after bowing to the man and dropping another copper coin on the counter, he left.

first walking the one street west and turning up a backstreet, roughly aware that somebody was following him. Between two shuttered windows, the man caught up to him and put the tip of the dagger just to the right of his spine roughly at the center of his back.

Give me your purse.

Without turning around he whispered

And if I don't?

The thief smiled at the back of his head, pressing the blade of the knife more firmly against his intended victim's back.

If you don't then I'll kill you and take it anyway.

The would be sorcerer looked down at his belt and, if they were visible, the thief would have noticed the iris and pupil fading from each one to project only the faint white of the cornea. Under his robe the talisman began to glow... faintly at first and then more brightly...

As he lowered his right arm toward his purse he spun, his wrist colliding with the thief's knife-hand.... the knife fell to the ground, hitting with a dull thunk.

The thief looked up at him with a wholly suprized look on his face... not even noticing at first the lack of color in the intended victim's eyes. Then it dawned on him that something was wrong and he began to back away nervously... never noticing the slight glow that seemed to come from beneath his victim's robe.... nor the fingernails that had steadily been growing longer.... or the brown fur that had sprouted on the knuckles and filled out on his victim's forearms.

Only when he was standing petrified as the massive paw of a gargantuan bear came down on his skull, did he realize that he could have run.

CRUNCH

The spine snapped and the thief fell to the ground paralyzed from the neck down. His screams lit the night sky as the claws of the massive beast mauled him time and again, leaving bloody tracks and deep gashes all over the broken body... and when at last the screams fell silent... a faintly smiling man walked from the darkness of the backstreet to the stable, leaving in his wake a completely lascerated body devoid of any semblance to a human being save the mandible... which had, in the frenzy, been knocked out of its lodging in the skull.




Demon Lord Ten Renegade Shit slinger of DWT
Captor of Ceres' bathrobe
Edge master of ORBspeed kills: 1
Lyssia needs to give my mind back

[ This Message was edited by: Demon Lord Ten on 2002-06-10 04:58 ]


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Pearl Roulve
Tiram

Posted: 2002-06-11 00:30     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
Pain.

Her world was a world seen through the haze of pain, such great pain it was. Her vision was narrow and blurry, her face washed clean by tears cried only in secret, when none were looking...

The pain was both inside and out, from the depths of her soul and her mind, but right now, the pain was very physical.

The woodlands to either side of the 'road' suddenly thinned and then alltogether vanished into buildings...at first, not many, for there were farms surrounding the small town, as is the case with many towns, because people do need to eat.

It was a road, but barely. After exiting into the trees, it barely was even a rutted path, choked in many places with undergrowth after years of disuse, and rightly so, for the road led off into the mountains, and no road ever led off into the mountains, anymore anyway, that was traveled often enough to be maintained.

She rode down it, passing a farmhouse here and there, sagging in her saddle. An arrow stuck out from her shoulder at an odd angle, and the shaft was broken close to the feathers....but it was deeply buried in her shoulder, and blood welled out around the wound, running down the shaft and dripping from the break on to the back of the horse she rode. The beasts coat was sodden with a sticky, slick mess down its back where she sat, and it was all she could do to even keep hold of the reigns not to mention sit upright in the saddle. She shivered as she past in the early morning fogs.

The mists parted before her a short distance off, only to show yet more earthbound clouds awaiting her arrival. The sounds of the hooves on the road, which was now occasionally cobbled, echoed eerily in the gloom, and then the clip-clop of shod horse on cobblestones echoed loudly and close.

She lurched in her saddle, and nearly fell from her mount, but the beast felt her shifting weight and shifted its own in order to keep her seated.

It hadn't been too long ago, she dimly recalled. A day or two, at the most, and many long, hard miles away from here, close to the borders of this land...the known lands, at any rate. There had been orcs...always orcs, as far as she could remember, and given her current condition, that was not very far at all.

Yes...orcs. Lots of them, coming over one of the old mountain paths. She seemed to remember a number...twenty? Thirty?

Whatever it was, it was too many, and she too few. Too many to lead astray to die at their own hands in the gorges and gullies of the highlands, too many to attack openly, yet she had done both, and sent the surviving orcs fleeing back the way they came...though they could just as easily have killed her, for she was still one, and when an orc arrow found its mark, and when blade had found home in flesh, her flesh, they could have all the more easily taken her down. Chuck it up to the nature of orcs....fell their leader, and they run like cowards until their slow wits bring them the news that they could by all means have defeated their opponent, and the rage that followed when they find that their quarry has up and fled to the hills, or in this case, the lowlands.

But little else could she remember of her journey to here, save that at first she figured she would reach a town of some sort long before it became a problem.

The fog about her began to thin, but only slightly. Now she could see that there were buildings all about her, and people who stared as she went past...most with scorn and anger in their eyes, and this was also rightly so. She was a stranger in their lands, and wounded...and wounded strangers often bring trouble at their heels.

A bed. She needed one ever so badly, just to be able to lie down and sleep...the exaustion had its hands upon her like a vengeful spirit, but she was not going to give in...not a chance. She was too strong for that.

The horse came to a stop before the stables.

And in one long moment, she slowly fell from her beast, landing on her side and driving the arrow deeper and snapping the exposed shaft off close to her skin, and then the inky darkness of unconsiousness quickly spilled over her, and she knew no more.


A Demon on the Shoulder of WoR
Searching, treking, seeking an answer, a way, a path...
An answer to my questions, a way from my anguish, a path to happiness.


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Khee
Tiram

Posted: 2002-06-11 01:17     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
�ugh� this ale tastes like piss�.bastard bartender should know how to fix a drink�.�

�Really Onyx� you should watch you language�.�

Onyx looked up from where she traced her eyes along the hairline crack on the dirty ale glass. Her black eyes met her companion�s. Onyx�s eyes were not normal, they were black stones, no iris or cornea� simply a mass of cold unfeeling black. But her companion was all to use to this, and smiled at the one across from her with nothing less the sisterly devotion.

�Opal�. We are in the middle of a tavern� a very bad tavern.. a smelly shit hole of a tavern in the middle of a small shit hole of a town.. no one cares how the hell I speak.. and I can guarantee you it isn�t the first time they heard it�.�

She looks away from her sister then, back to the crack on the glass, then around the room, then back to the table, The graffiti etched on it looked so odd, like another language, and its dark rose wood top made a stark contrast with her sister�s bleach white skin.

�I know where we are Onyx.. I can smell it as well as you can �. I just thought it would help your moods�.�

�MY MO���

she quiets, looking around so not to draw attention to herself or her sister, she lowers her voice but not her hostility

�my moods! Please�. They could be a lot worse you know, I could be going around on killing sprees like Razon use to do.. really you of all people can�t complain about my moods��

Onyx shifted herself on her seat, avoiding her sisters deadpan eyes, how similar and how different they were to her own. Like hers there was no color, just the absence of color completely. But unlike hers, they were not black, but just the opposite, they were pure white� no lines of veins, no yellowed corners, just a endless sea of white that spilled forth every emotion her sister ever held, soft and readable�. She could tell when her sister was in love, or saddened or angered.. though the last never happened. A kind soul peaked out of those eyes, and sometimes�. Onyx felt jealous.

As twins they were born cursed. Born to be the exact opposite of each other in everything. Where her eyesight reined� her sister was blind, but her sense of smell was beyond even that of most animals. Where she could fight like a bat out of hell, she could not heal or touch any as her sister did. The perfect strange little pair to be traveling together.. they were never separated, not sense birth� and Onyx knew well it would destroy one or the other if they were. She looked up to see her sister watching her, those same loving eyes that felt as if they choked her soul each time. Smothering her with affection she could not see why her sister gave.

�You have gone quiet Onyx�something wrong?�

Onyx shifted, setting her glass down hard on the table, letting it ring in the nearly deserted tavern.

�Nah.. not at all� well come on.. lets get out of this hell and find the next one.. we have a long way to go till we reach Arsion and mother�s.. grave.�

She watched the tears well in those pits of white. She should not have spoken of the one who had raised them. Not even their true mother, just some women who took pity on two freakish children left to die in the rain. Their mother�s death had no effect on her, so it was only natural Opal would weep.

�Hey.. now.. none of that here� We don�t want attention drawn, or weakness. We are in a town of predators don�t forget.�

She rose and came to her sister�s side, helping her up. Opal gladly took the hand given to her and followed her sister out into the drizzling night. She drew her pale blue robe up over her face, while Onyx leads the both of them to the horses tied to the front. Ravencall pawed the ground impatiently. It was the only horse that suited Onyx, one that was midnight black and had the fiery spirit she held within. Next to Ravencall was her mate, the dapple white Crow. A sturdy male horse with a sense of direction and obedience that let him take Opal wherever she wished to go.

Onyx helped her sister up on Crow and swooped herself up on her own horse. She looked over the few people that walked the rain-drenched streets, hiding from the slight cold, and miserable weather. At the door to the tavern the barkeeper stood, watching them as they pulled away.

what a pair we must make to look at�. My sister and me.

And indeed they did. Onyx, with her lithe muscular body, pale as her sisters, but hair cut short and slightly spiked, with a singular red braid coming off of her bangs, reaching her breasts, and singing with the arranged chimes she hung off of it. Her sword at her side and dressed in a lose blood red shirt, belted at the waist with black leather pants and boots. While her sister, the same color of skin, but platinum, almost silver blond hair, which even now draped itself in rivers across Crow�s flanks. Her cheeks a pale pink and her body built like that of royalty. Very much a lady in everyway of the word, from the way she spoke to her moments, it spoke nothing like what her sister would give off. Indeed, the pair made a strange set.

ooc: o finished a pic Of Onyx and Opal... at www.angelfire.com/goth/chimera0/onyx.html


there is honor among thieves and love among the damned





[ This Message was edited by: Khee on 2002-06-11 17:59 ]


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Demon Lord Ten
Solera

Posted: 2002-06-12 21:05     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
As he neared the stables he saw a horse out front... mulling there over a mound of flesh that eventually turned out to be its rider, who smelled heavily of copper and was covered in caked and drying blood... even the horse had blood matted in its hair...

Easy girl.. He whispered... not really caring if the horse was male or female.

It whinnied and stamped a foot once or twice... making a dull thud each time...

David bent down to the woman on the ground, taking in the sight of the wound before throwing her over his shoulder, paying the stablemaster to keep the horse fed... he was forced to let 3 coppers go... a large sum to many who hadn't a gold to thier name.

He walked back to the tavern with the woman over his shoulder and, on his way in the door, he saw two women... barely more than girls...his amulet allowing little spears of light to escape his robe whenever it wrinkled far enough....

he payed the girls no mind, going inside and getting two rooms... one for the wounded woman and one for himself.

After checking the girl in he gave the inkeeper a silver to give her a note stating that her horse was at the stable and had been fed and cleaned.

He took her to the room and payed a copper for 2 towels and another for a basin of hot water. After that he reached into the wound, holding down her other shoulder so that should she wake up, she would be unable to move... but she had lost too much blood to be awakened by it.

As the arrow came out he noticed that the ridge across the head and the sarration placed it of orcish forge... he caught sight of the blade wound as well... binding that and spending a little magic on healing it...

The accelerated magic should allow her to wake and eat by morning... but depending on how much blood she had lost she could be stuck here as long as a week... but all that rested on her.

He ground some herbs that he had in his pocket and added a little water, brewing some tea... which he put on a metal tray a few feet over the fire. He left her a note saying to drink it when she woke because it would bring her strength back.

Then, giving little thought to it, he walked back down the stairs and out of the tavern, passing the two girls who had been outside on his way back to the stable to buy a horse... it was going to be a long ride to the next town... he would need provisions.




Demon Lord Ten Renegade Shit slinger of DWT
Captor of Ceres' bathrobe
Edge master of ORBspeed kills: 1
Lyssia needs to give my mind back

[ This Message was edited by: Demon Lord Ten on 2002-06-12 21:20 ]


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Dark_and_Light
Siquan

Posted: 2002-06-13 03:03     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
�Oh� Onyx� no!�

Onyx gritted her teeth as she slid of her horse, she would not look at her sister, and she didn�t want to see those innocent eyes filling up with water senseless emotions. Her sister seemed to cry over everything, but it was times like this Onyx hated her for it.

�Opal� please! You know better damn it.. you need this as much as I, if we don�t get actual food soon, we will both lose most of the energy we have.�

Onyx�s words were a bit harsher then they meant to be, but at least is shut Opal up, She whimpered a bit but did not openly object.

They had not even made it out of the town before Onyx felt the pang in her stomach and head at the same time. The type of pain one would get if there were needled being gored through ones abdomen. Onyx felt it and as she heard a soft intake of air from her sister, she knew she had felt it as well. They needed nourishment, and no human food would do.

�I�ll take it from some homeless guy who smells of human blood.. there how does that sound?�

Opal probably had responded then, but Onyx did not hear. Her attention was diverted for a moment, by a man carrying a women into a near by inn on the corner of the town. Onyx narrowed her strange eyes, glad that the shadows covered the both of them. Something glittered around the guy�s neck; it was probably what had caught her attention in the first place.

Onyx watched as he disappeared into the inn and shrugged it off. Either his girlfriend was drunk, dead or she was his newest rape victim� either way it mattered none to her.

�Stay here.. Opal� that inn would be a good place to find some nice fresh food.�

Opal made no reply and Onyx decided that was as close to a yes as she would get. She left her sister in the care of the horses, knowing she would be fine. Her sister maybe blind.. but not helpless.

Onyx entered slowly into the inn, keeping her hood drawn up to avoid having her eyes be seen. The innkeeper gave her a sideways glance, but unless addressed, he was not interested. Onyx came in just in time to see the man carry the women off up the stairs, but he was not what she was looking for. She needed something not occupied tonight. Her thoughts wandered for a second before she felt her body tip forward, she caught herself in time before she fell but turned abruptly to a wiry but built male, wandering by her. The smell of alcohol was strong on him, and he was to intoxicated to realize he had run into her. Onyx backed from him to let him by and to the innkeeper, she smiled softly. He also smelled of blood. The man dropped a few bits of copper on the counter and was handed the key to a room. Onyx had found her prey.

As the man wandered drunkenly up the stairs and to his room, she followed. She let him lock the door behind himself and waited a few minuets for him to settle. Her smile turned feral and deeper, she enjoyed this part of hunting. She found herself at the door with her ear pressed against it, until she heard the soft noise pf a body settling down on a bed.

Her foot met the door, and with one quick kick the door was open. The drunken man sprang to his feet, though it was less then successful, but she waited patiently drawing her hood back and looking a him with an amused grin. The man uttered drunkenly and got up drawing a dagger as he did. Onyx stepped forward, and with a quick swipe took the dagger from him. Her other hand shot outward and grabbed a hold of his forehead, her fingernails digging into his flesh. The man gargled, it was suppose to be a scream, but he was too far-gone. Bright sparks of white light erupted between her hand and his head and the man�s hair started turning white, his already sun withered face wrinkling more, and his body sinking to the floor.

It took only a few minuets for the man to die, his life energy taken from him as he lay on the ground, in a heap of white hair and wrinkles. Onyx let go and sucked in a deep breath, her pale cheeks flushes slightly. She opened the door and left it ajar, not really caring as she walked out of the inn, the lights of the town shining brighter in her eyes.

Opal was where she had left her; she could see the tears that stood in her sister�s eyes, but the anticipation on her face as well. At the sound of her sister�s footsteps, Opal extended a hand and Onyx grabbed a hold of it. A dark red spark ignited between them as Onyx gave her sister a little more then half the energy she had taken. Her sister breathed easily, then her own cheeks flushed as she relaxed her grip on her sister�s hand.

Onyx climbed back up on Raven call�s back, her body feeling lighter and the burning pain gone from her body.

�He had quite a bit for a drunk.. I figure we can go a couple more weeks without another.�

Her sister nodded vigorously, though she hated the deed, she loved the energy even more then Onyx. But onyx figured it worked out, if she loved the hunt, let her sister share in the feeling with the energy.


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Sheanna
Siquan

Posted: 2002-06-13 13:58     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
If I was to leave my husband dear,
And my two babes also,
O what have you to take me to,
If with you I should go?"

"I hae seven ships upon the sea -
The eighth brought me to land -
With four-and-twenty mariners,
And music on every hand."


Her voice rang out clearly as she sang, the thud of her staff against the road keeping time. It was an old song but one that seemed to take her fancy as she walked, it had a taste of cruelty that suited her mood. Sheanna had been told that she had a fair enough voice, admittedly that was by her own race's standards, so it was more than fair to the common ear. Though she tended to use play the flute when music took her fancy, the eshu had to admit that sometimes words were needed to tell the tale.

Stories, they were what she lived for, to her mind there was no greater treasure. Gold would tarnish and iron would rust, wood would rot and land would become barren. But a story? Ah a story could live forever if it was good enough, if it held the imagination. And somewhere out in the world was the greatest tale of them all, if only she could find it. If Sheanna could find it and give it voice, what a triumph that would be.

A tale that could hold the mind, enrapture the heart and bring tears forth from the driest of stones. She could imagine it even now, the people hanging on her every word, their concentration on the story that she wove before them. Their very souls would be hers to make dance to her tune, making them feel joy and despair with only a few words.

She has taken up her two little babes,
Kissed them baith cheek and chin:
"O fair ye weel, my ain two babes,
For I'll never see you again."

She set her feet upon the ship,
No mariners could she behold;
But the sails were of the taffetie,
And the masts o the beaten gold.

She had not sailed a league, a league,
A league but barely three,
When dismal grew his countenance,
And drumlie grew his ee.

They had not sailed a league, a league,
A league but barely three,
Until she espied his cloven feet,
And she wept right bitterlie.


Sheanna chuckled to herself as the verse ended with the foolish woman of the song realising her mistake. Silly girl to give up her family for a love she thought was lost, only to find that he was truly lost to the light of the heavens. Served the woman right even if it did make a fair song and a decent one to travel to.

Her voice was as pure as a silvery bell, catching the sweet notes and setting them in order. The tune danced upon the winds, caught up and sent to find the ear of any listener. The eshu's auience might only be made of birds and the low animals of the forest, but they were an audience all the same. And probably better than the last human village that she had blessed with the gift of song.

A frown creased her brow as she remembered the coarse humans, the way they had mocked her talent. Called it a 'fair little ditty but nothing more'. Nothing more? Not even worthy of giving her a roof over her head for the night or a crumb of beard for her efforts. Still they had learned to pay the minstrel soon enough, she had shown them how much that 'little ditty' really meant. Within hours of mocking her they had found themselves caught up in playing out the tale that she had performed for them.

She smirked at the memory, the images playong out in her mind as they had ran about their homes caught up in a tale that seemed oh-so-familiar to them. Still they had not really been worthy of performing the tale, too vulgar and foul to do the story justice. Perhaps she should have done a more base performance? They might have suited it better.

"O hold your tongue of your weeping," says he,
"Of your weeping now let me be;
I will show you how the lillies grow
On the banks of Iteallie."

"O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills,
That the sun shines sweetly on?"
"O yon are the hills of heaven," he said,
"Where you will never win."


The forest gave way to a village of sorts, slightly better than the last place she had visited. Maybe these patrons would be more appreciative of a good tale by the hearthfire. After all how often could they really bask in the talent of a storyteller such as she? They might even have new stories for her to write down, now there was a thought to be savoured. It had been far too long since she had last been given the chance to record an untold tale. It didn't matter to her whether it was concerned romance or fear, struggle or victory, each were as good as the others to Sheanna, each a new joy in her heart.

Her voice didn't even falter as she found herself surrounded not by trees but by buildings. Let them know what a narrator had come into their midst, they them enjoy this small portion of her abilties. After all if they liked the end of the song they might be more willing to give if they heard a whole fable.

"O whaten a mountain is yon," she said,
"All so dreary wi frost and snow."
"O yon is the mountain of hell," he cried,
"Where you and I will go."

He strak the tap-mast wi his heel,
The fore-mast wi his knee,
And he brake that gallant ship in twain,
And sank her in the sea.


Laughter escaped from Sheanna's lips as the song ended, the last notes dying away into nothingness. Oh such a tale and such an end, the woman had had everything and had been lured away with empty promises. It was a parable that she had yet to get someone to act out for her. Well there was always time.

(Disclaimer:The song used in this post is called the Deamon Lover and is a medieval song.)

"Land of Song!" cried the warrior bard,
"Tho' all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"


[ This Message was edited by: Sheanna on 2002-06-13 14:00 ]


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Pearl Roulve
Tiram

Posted: 2002-06-13 23:54     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
At first it was a mere blur of agony, a bright smear on her eyes as she opened them once more.

She felt the pain of the orc poison all through her...but it seemed somehow distant and remote, fading ever faster and further away.

And then she sat bolt upright in the bed where she had lain...and how she had gotten here and how long she had been here were questions that had no immediate answer. Pain shot through her very bones as she snapped up and awake, and she fell back with a cry, for the pain had one, and as she lay in bed, breathing short and quick, the searing torment vanished altogether.

For long moments she layed there, thinking, thinking desperatly of what had happened, and where she could be. She shuddered at a great many of the possibilities, but there was hope yet.

Once again, she sat up, slowly this time, and the pain seemed but a dull annoyance in the back of her head. She first looked for her equiptment...it was arrayed against the wall, armor, sword and staff. This brought some relief to her, for it eliminated many of the possibilities that had existed, but there were still far more to be made certain about.

She slid out of the covers and blankets, one foot at a time, until her bare feet hit the cold wooden floor...and for some reason the touch of the wood was somehow reasuring. But something was still amiss...she could feel it in her bones.

Gingerly and slowly, she went to the pile of her equiptment, and grabbed the staff from the pile, and with it towering over her as if she were but a young child, she wandered to the far side of the room. There a fire burned in its place, flickering and crackling comfortingly, and there lay a note beside it.

She reached down to pick it up, but there was no message scrawled upon it: It was blank.

She could not understand why someone would leave a blank message for her, but she shrugged it off, and then wandered to the door of the room, leaning heavily upon the runed oaken staff. The Jade in the Claw gleamed horribly, but she took little notice of it, and she grabbed at the doorhandle, opening it and passing into the inner hallway. She seemed dwarfed by the immense structure...but she was less than five feet by a short bit, so this was to be expected.

She looked down either direction, but saw nor heard anyone...not a thing. And this she found very odd and very disturbing, for if she was right in her guess, this was an inn...and inns tended to be crowded at any time of the day or night.

She turned and headed to the left of her room, leaving the door open, for there seemed to be no one around to take any of her stuff. She slipped down the hallway in her white nightgown, its frilly edges dragging on the floor behind her. And then she reached the stairs, which looked upon the tavern itself.

It was empty...there was not a single person here.

She took a few steps down the stairs, enough to be able to see the whole room, and consequently, the windows to the outside...but there was no one inside or outside of this inn!

She turned and ran as quickly as her condition would allow to her room...but it seemed different...it was not as quiet and peacefulk as once it had looked, now it was all colored of black and reds. And the fire was blazing up high, and something was on top of the metal tray that had been here when she left.

She slowly walked to it, still leaning upon her staff as if she were very old, and she gqzed into the contents of the cup.

It was blood, and inside of it lay a beating heart, beating madly as if it had just been cut from its owners' chest...and at the sight she screamed, backing away from it. And the note now held writing...

Your intestines for garters, your blood as wine, your life is mine!


She shrank back from the note and tray, slwoly backing her way towards the door.

Her staff hit something, and she lost her footing and fell heavily to the floor, face to face with a horribly mutilated and rotted corpse.

She screamed again, and dragging her staff with her,drug and crawled away from it with all possible speed.

"What....is happening?" Was the words that she mouthed, but no sound came. She picked herself up slowly with the aid of the staff, staring at the sickening corpse, and then she turned and fled into the hall.

It was painted in blood, and the sickening coppery smell of it filled all of her senses until she wanted to cry out, but even if she did, she would never be able to make a sound.

She rushed back to the main room, and now, as she expected, it was occupied. Skeletons and corpses, many of them terribly hewn or torn assunder, lay upon the floor and in the seats...some were cloven in two, many were full of arrows.

SHe hurried down the stairs, nearly tripping up twice, and then she fled hastily through the tavern and through its doors.

Outside, the city was aflame, thick palls of smoke rising heavenward to block out the moonlight, and the cold light of the moon was replaced with the firey light of the burning. Corpses littered the street, and everywhere she turned there was a dead man or woman, and even childeren, to greet her.

She went to move forward, but something was preventing her from doing so, and when she looked down, to her horror, she found a hand clutching at her ankle.

"Please...."

She followed the arm to where it was nearly severed at the elbow, and then looked into a face so full of pain and suffering...and hatred, that she could not help but turn away.

"Please! Release us! Help us! Save us!"

She turned to look into the mans face once more.

"I...I....can't!"

The world faded into a million pieces, shattering in the minds eye to be replaced with mists of the minds own make...


She sat bolt upright in bed, and the agony shot through every nerve in her body, sweat being flung from her drenched body in all direction to land on the floor and the sheets.

She was shaking...shaking very badly...not in the least because she did have orc poisons still lingering in her blood...but...

Why would they never leave her be? Why could she not be freed from the Burden she had to carry for so long?

The throbbing in her head grew worse while she was sitting upright...she did not even look in the direction of the firepit, not caring to see what was there, if anything. Her...dream, or nightmare, whatever it may have been, was...too real.

Slowly, she inched her way fro mthe bed, and then settling her feet upon the floor, she tried to stand...without success. She fell in a jumbled heap upon the glory, crying out in pain as she landed upon her wounded shoulder. She winced as she got to her hands and knees, whimpering each time she moved her lame arm, until she reached her staff again. Using that, climbing as tenderly as possible, she stood upright, thought leaning hard on the staff. Flames ran up and down her spine, threatening to send her once more to the ground, but she weathered the storm, and half walked, half hobbled to the door.

She opened it and stuck her head into the corridor, the white nightgown still upon her body, and to her relief she saw two girls down the hall, and watched briefly as one of them entered a room. Her fears having been dismissed, if for only the moment, she drew herself back in, and closed the door behind her, and then turned back to the bed, searching first for her clothes. She had to get out of here immediatly, there were tasks to accomplish. Slipping on the skirt and overshirt of vivid blue, and then the boots and her wristlets, she turned to sit upon the bed.

She did not know how she was going to get her armor out...it was quite heavy, and she was not quite at her top form, but it needed to be taken none the less. She got from the bed, using her staff as support, and picked up the sword, which was damn near as long as she was tall, and then grabbed the armor and drug it fittfully towards the bed, wincing all the more with each move she made.

She sat for a few moments, and then, making her mind up, using her good arm she hoisted the armor up onto the bed, and then slipped into it. It gleamed unscratched and untarnished as always, but its weight was almost overmuch. She slid her fathers sword home into its sheath across her back, and then using the staff once more, tried to stand upright. The wood neither bent nor appeared strained as she stood with most her weight against it...and slowly she made her way for the door, gaining confidence with each step.

She opened the door, and peered out once again, then slowly stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind her.



Lost and Alone, I walk on the Edge...
The Edge between Dark and Light, Good and Evil.

He helps those who helps themselves -Granny Weatherwax (Terry Pratchett, Carpe Jugulum)


[ This Message was edited by: Pearl Roulve on 2002-06-13 23:56 ]


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Kida
Tiram

Posted: 2002-06-14 12:13     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
Slipping quietly out of the Royal house of Riventide where the River Elves live was a cloaked figure... Princess Kida the only daughter and Princess of Elves. Moving stealthily to the stables and gathering her few possessions which she had hidden there with her grey stallion Mistrion. Springing onto the large animal Kida left the stables and looked back rethinking this idea for a moment...

Born the only girl out of thriteen children Kida grew up fighting and learning the same things as her brothers while also being taught the rudimentary things of ladies...Kida's mother died giving birth to her so the maids were the ones to teach Kida the womanly arts. Kida loved riding, hunting, sword fighting, and archery... she was more skilled than any of her brothers in all of these... no other elf had been able to beat her skill with a bow and arrow and only her eldest brother Riveth could beat her with a sword.

But when Kida turned 250 on her birthday her father the King had decreed that she would marry the Prince of the nearby Wood Elf kingdom. Kida upon hearing this news made her decission and that is why she is now running away...

Clicking to Mistrion Kida rode swiftly away through the river and out into a brand new world not looking back again on her old life. She rode fast wanting to put as much distance between her kingdom and wherever fate leads her... Kida's long braided blue-black hair blew behind her as Mistrion galloped down the path towards the human kingdoms... she planned on riding for a few days before stopping to rest... hopefully the royal guards wouldn't be able to follow her tracks... but if they could she was armed and would not give up her freedom without a fight.


Why do people with closed minds always open their mouths? Relationships SUCK! I'm just a girl living in captivity... I'm just girl guess I am some kind of Freak!


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Demon Lord Ten
Solera

Posted: 2002-06-14 18:58     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
After much debate, he decided that he would save his money and hunt while on the road, and so he road out to the gatehouse... it was well after midnight... by at least an hour and a half... if not more...

The horse whinnied as they neared the gatehouse, stopping to mull about for a moment before, frustrated, David turned it back to the road and spurred it onward.

Hail the gatehouse! he called as he neared, and within moments there was a lamp burning in the upper room. It made its way to the back of the room and down into the lower levels as the man holding it stopped to look out the window at the person waiting for him outside.

The door to the two story building opened and a stout gaurd emerged carrying a crossbow. As he stepped into the cool night air he shivered and pointed the bolt.

What is it?! he grumped, obviously preturbed at having his sleep disturbed, and making no effort to conceal his frustration. Crossbow at ready he stepped forward, taking a look at the man on the horse.

I wish to leave for the next town and I need you to open the gate, that I might meet the road. He spoke in the friendliest voice possible, not wishing to annoy the gaurd any more than he already was.

-Gates are barred after the churchbell tolls twice... it's told once more since then... go back to the Tavern, get a room, and leave tomorrow. and with nothing else to say he turned and hurried back inside, slamming the door and retreating from the cold to the warmth of his soft bed.

David gawked for a moment.

How friendly they are here... David spoke, spilling over with sarcasm. But I guess we'd best comply... we wouldn't want to be locked up before getting the chance to leave. and he riegned his mount back toward the tavern... Mayhap he should check on the wounded woman he'd left there... she was bound to either be awake... or still suffering...

He wondered if she'd gotten the note about the potion he'd left for her... No matter... he was on his way back to check now.



Progenitor of Evil in the land of Maxim
Executioner of the faithless
Edge Master of ORB
I am that which stalks you in the night


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Pearl Roulve
Tiram

Posted: 2002-06-14 22:56     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
The corridor was still occupied, but the two who had been in the hall were now leaving, heading back to the stairs to the lower floor.

It was of little concern to her. She had just finished slaying fifteen or better orcs, granted, not all at once, and even more so granted not without her own payment, in blood as was the usual case. She held that any battle that you survive threw, especially one where you will most likely live and be well enough to see another, was worth an ale. Or thirty.

Most innkeepers and tavernkeepers near the Mountains knew to leave well enough alone, and generally very few (actually none) of them charged for room and board when she or any of the many orc hunters came in from their hunts, and especially for drinks. Most of them saw the fact that without the hunters and various rogues, the lands would be overrun with the viscious, foul smelling creatures.

She half walked, half hobbled down the hallway to the stairs, and peered down below. The room was crowded with people, but dark. She had not bothered to see what time of day it was....any time of day was as good as any other time for a drink and a meal. She struggled down the stair, staff and feet falling heavily upon the wood, and a few of the patrons turned to see what the ruckus was, before returning to trying to drown in their drinks.

She reached the bottom with a sigh, and glanced about her. The room was not packed...there were perhaps fifteen, maybe twenty people spread around it. Sawdust was on the floor, and it appeared to be old, having absorbed many times its fair share of spilled booze and people being sick. The room stretched, it appeared, from the east wall of the inn to about fifteen or so feet away from the far west wall, and the entire length of the building between south and north. Tables were arranged haphazardly about, and many of them were occupied, mostly by people with dark circles beneath their eyes or asleep in their mugs. None of them really mattered much to her.

She began to thump her way through the tavern to the bar set against the northern wall, drawing up one of the stools that was set before it. Smoke wafted before the lamp on the desk, and hung heavily at the ceiling of the whole room, which was an advantage of being only four and nine feet tall. One of the disadvantages is that you tend to get overlooked by barmen and other people, because you stand out less than larger people.

There were no people at the bar currently, and the barkeep was busying himself with polishing glasses, and a polite clearing of her throat alerted him of her presence.

He turned and looked her up and down, a common occurence. There was a mild look of disbelief in his eyes...a child (In his eyes, at any rate) bearing such equiptment upon her person, in his bar.

"Sorry, miss...I don't serve childeren here."

The staff suddenly allowed itself to catch his attention...at first he had thought it either some childish plaything or a walking stick. However, no child plays with a staff like this...he saw the dragon claws and the jade, and the writting just long enough to know it was there, and then somehow he could no longer focus on it...the wood became just a mundane walking stick, though blurred at the top and lacking any fine details.

"Excuse me, but who are you to call me a child. I'll take a whiskey...make sure it is strong enough to eat through your counter, mister. And if you don't want to give it to me, I'll at least do my best to come back there and take it myself."

"Whiskey? Thats' a copper a shot, miss. An' ye want the whole bottle? A silver for that, I am afraid."

He looked at her critically again...though the armor was bright and polished, he could see where the blood stained her clothes beneath, and she had a look about her of a hard, long traveled woman. But she also did not appear to have any money.

Pearl smiled brightly at him, and then reached down to the calf-high boots, and pulling one free, she drove her hand into its depths, fumbling at something within the boot itself. A few moments later, her hand came from the boot clutching something tightly....her last couple coppers, he assumed, and then she slipped the boot back on.

She set a gold coin on the bar.

The barkeep quickly picked it up, and then looked at her critically, then finally bit it. It was solid gold.

"Lady, this here'll buy half the liquor in the store!"

"I wasn't going to pay you a gold coin for a silver's worth of whiskey. I may appear to be young and stupid, but no one is that stupid. I will, of course, expect anything that is left over back."

She grinned brightly at him, her emerald eyes boring straight into the back of his skull. There was something alltogether odd about this..girl.

He then changed his mind to matters of money. He had had the room payed for by some creepy man earlier the previous day...but she couldn't know that because she hadn't stirred for the entire length of her stay, and he had left immediatly. And she seemed to have some money, and his standpoint on money was that it belonged in his purse, not anyone elses.

"I am sorry, miss...You have not payed for your room yet, either. That'll be seven coppers for the night."

She waved it off as if it were no big deal, and then went to the little hole he had in the floor behind thebar, and dropped the gold down into a bag there, and then reached in and grabbed three coppers. As he stood up, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey...his most watered down and horrible stock, and then took it to the young lady.

She was still staring at him with the sharp green eyes.

"I'll have my moneys' worth of whiskey, thank you, and you can put that one back. I'll take what is one the sheld right behind you."

Her vision blurred little, but went back to normal...Poison does not leave your system immediatly and there is no such thing as a one day cureall.

The barkeeper tentatively placed the bottle of watery booze down, and then reached behind him and pulled down a very expensive bottle of whiskey. It was his own personal stash...but somehow, he could not seem to put up a fight with her demand.

She took her money and the bottle from his unresisting hands, and then drug herself across the room to somewhere near the middle of it, and set herself down. There was allready a glass there, and it was filled with some dark liquor...whoever had been drinking it was laying passed out on beside the table.

She drained his glass, and then poured herself another one.

"Here's one to you nasty bastards. Best thing I can say for ya is ya have been my excuse to drink for a good long while!"

She was of course talking of the slain orcs, and at the finishing of her statement, she raised her glass into the air, then hammered the drink down in a single swallow.

The haziness of drink was allready starting to creep over her eyes.


A Demon on the Shoulder of WoR
Searching, treking, seeking an answer, a way, a path...
An answer to my questions, a way from my anguish, a path to happiness.


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Darragh
Siquan

Posted: 2002-06-15 00:39     Profile; Edit   Reply w/Quote
He had ridden into town earlier that day. Stopped just long enough to board his horse at the stables, then made for the closest tavern.

It wasn't the cleanest he had ever seen, but it would have to do. He approached the barkeep...

I need a room, a PRIVATE room, and preferrably one without too many bugs if you have it...but that may be asking too much.

I beg your pardon, sir, but I run a respectable place here! I has the room, but can the likes of you afford it? I'll have to have some kind of payment upfront...private rooms are costly.

Darragh snorted and tossed the man a bag of coins. The landed on the bar with a clink.

I think that will suffice, and take care of a bath and my meals while I am here...

A quick look and the bag disappeared off the bar...it had contained silver, which Darragh knew would be more than enough for his stay.
The barkeep nodded towards a young girl who quickly came over to the pair.

Show this man to room at the end of the hall.

Darragh followed the young wench up the stairs and to his room, she opened the door and waited til he gave his nod of approval and the orders that he was not to be disturbed, then hurried out.

Darragh sighed with relief when he heard the door close and locked it behind her. Then placing his sword beside him on the bed he fell into it, quickly losing himself to sleep.





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Demon Lord Ten
Solera

Posted: 2002-06-16 23:40     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
In ten minutes time he had returned to the front doors of the tavern. He dismounted and tethered his horse with a single wrap and twist of his reigns around a vertical support of the porch canopy.

He takes one deep breath before walking in to the light of the tavern.

After shielding his eyes for a moment, he allows them to adjust and takes a look around the room. The first thing he notices is the woman that he'd brought in sitting at a table halfway across the room. He almost fell over, noticing that it had been under an hour since he'd left the tavern in the first place...

After picking up his senses he walks slowly to the table at which she sits with his shoulders back and his head cocked slightly to the side.

After a long moment of silence he speaks.

You recovered rather quickly... especially from orcish poison... do you know what they MAKE that shit from?! He is now trying to decide how in the hell to go about talking to somebody who's not only recovered from orcish poison, but somebody who's up and walking around an HOUR after having the arrow tipped with said poison removed from her flesh. I must say... you're lucky to be alive... when I brought you in you were almost dead...

He quietly sits, not waiting to be invited, and orders himself a drink.

When it comes he drops a copper coin on the table and begins sipping at it slowly... contemplating what magic must have been involved in such a speedy recovery... since it was SURELY more than just the potion he'd left.

How DID you recover so quickly? he asks tentatively.



Progenitor of Evil in the land of Maxim
Executioner of the faithless
Edge Master of ORB
I am that which stalks you in the night


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Pearl Roulve
Tiram

Posted: 2002-06-17 00:37     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
The world around her was allready quite fuzzy, and things swam pleasently and peaceful around her. The bottle on the table was three fourths empty.

The man came from nowhere...she had no idea who he was, but he apperently knew who she was well enough to know that she had been hurt and had only been here for some short length of time. At least she knew a week had not passed, though she did not really care.

She was silent for a moment...the question had been simple enough, but it brought about unpleasent memories.

"I...I do know wha' that shits made 'f. 'S made from the blood o' people they've killed an' then they add pois'n ta it, ussually either fox....foxglove 'r hemlock. I believes them magus of dere's weave sum sorta spell ov...over it too."

She swayed a little in her chair, gripping the wooden staff tightly to keep from falling over. There was, of course, more than alcohol in her system...orc poisons by no means leave the body immediatly.

"As ta' recovern' quick...I hav' been prick'd an' cut by more poisn'd blades 'n you ken shaka stick at. Ya could say I've gained a slight res'stence ta it. But as ta recoverin'...I ain't yet. Tradition, ya see?"

She filled her shotglass again, spilling a bit on the table, and then downed another shot.

"'S tradition, aft'r killin' acoupla dem bastads. An' the whiskey helps ta neutr...nuetra...nega....stop tha pois'n."

With that a smile crossed her flushed face, even though beads of sweat still coursed down her fevered face. The booze certainly did not help in this respect.

Her face went from blissful to serious, or more serious than drunk, at any rate. Glazed eyes like polished emeralds bore through the mans head.

"An', if I might be so bold...who'n the hells 'r you? An' waddya know 'bout orcs, anyway?"

And with that said, she lost her grip on the staff, and slid to the floor with a thump, swearing vividly as she hit the floor.

The staff remained upright, and then, as if it had forgotten it was supposed to be ordinary wood, it fell over with a clatter.



Lost and Alone, I walk on the Edge...
The Edge between Dark and Light, Good and Evil.

He helps those who helps themselves -Granny Weatherwax (Terry Pratchett, Carpe Jugulum)


[ This Message was edited by: Pearl Roulve on 2002-06-17 00:39 ]


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Kida
Tiram

Posted: 2002-06-17 18:47     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
After riding the entire day Kida decided that it was time to rest... she stopped at the next town and made it inside just before the guards shut the gates for the night. Finding the stables Kida jumped off Mistrion and checked out the stall where her horse was going to be housed.
"You are sure that this stall is kept clean... this hay is fresh and without mold? I will not allow my horse to become ill from lack of care.
Raising her eyebrow at the human stable master in front of her as he spoke..Yes my lady... The horse will be taken care of. We don't want any animal in our care to become ill.
Kida nodded and tossed him some coins. That should be sufficient for a days rest...and food for Mistrion.. If I decide to stay longer I will bring more.
Kida walked away and headed to the tavern... pulling her cloaks hood up to hide her appearance. The smell of the tavern made her stomach heave...controlling herself Kida walked up to the bar and requested a whiskey.. the best that was available. I will also need a private room for at least tonight... maybe for a few more days.
`We are almost booked solid... I can't give you the best room... but I can give you a room... its small but private. Its the last private room I have available and it will cost you...
Fine I'll take it... these silver coins should be more than enough for what I ask... also I'd like a meal and a bath... if you can supply those I will give you more silver...
Kida walked over to a clear table in the back corner and sat down. A serving wench soon appeared with her meal and Kida quickly tore into her bread and meat realizing just how hungry she was for the first time. Kida watched the bars occupants carefully keeping herself hidden beneath the cloak. The last thing she needed was to be spotted by another elf or someone familiar with the River Elves Royalty...
A woman that was obviously drunk fell to the floor from where she sat at a nearby table. She was dressed as a warrior and carried a wooden staff that was carved in runes... Kida turned her attention back to her food thinking about her plans for the next day...
Thinking to herself outloud but quietly so no one else would hear her...I am still far too close to the River lands... my family can easily find me if I do not keep moving... I will only stay here one night.. then I will move on... There has to be an adventure of some kind out there waiting for me to find it.
Once finished eating Kida went and found the room she purchased for the night... it was little better than a closet with a cot in it but the bath tub was there waiting for her and so was a tavern wench to help her bathe.
Fill the tub and be gone... I will not need any assistance thank you.
As you wish my lady.

Why do people with closed minds always open their mouths? Relationships SUCK! I'm just a girl living in captivity... I'm just girl guess I am some kind of Freak!

[ This Message was edited by: Kida on 2002-06-18 12:25 ]


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Dark_and_Light
Siquan

Posted: 2002-06-19 01:02     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
this is completely ridiculous!

Opal winced as her sister went off on one of her angry rants, they both pulled their horses reins back to town. Onyx cursing the gatekeeper loud enough so that even as he climbed back to bed he could hear the strange eyed girl.

really Onyx it is not that bad.. so we stay in this town tonight�

are you really that forgetful Opal.. we just fed here� I don�t like staying in a town we had fed in�

Opal smiled softly and shook her head, small tendrils of white blond hair falling over her sightless eyes.

you worry to much sister, for one thing in a place like that they won�t even tell there is a dead man till it starts to smell, and second.. there is no proof.

Onyx sighs but nods her head; Raven call lifts her head and snorts, her flattened ears reflecting the mood of her lady.

fine�. I suppose a good drink couldn�t hurt anything either�. But keep a low profile.. no talking to stranger as you sooo often like doing�

Onyx glared at her sister who smiles innocently and reaches over patting Raven call�s mane, the horse prances a side a little bit, but with a quick hiss from her lady she lets the petting commence.

They both arrived back in town before to long, and gave their horses to a wide-eyed stable boy. The boy all to happy to take care of Crow, but Raven call was a different manner. With a lot of gibberish and complaining Onyx finally cursed the boy and told him to move aside. Raven call was lead easily into the stall by her lady. But continued to settle her stormy eyes on the stable boy.

don�t touch them boy.. they can mind themselves until tomorrow�. Besides� I�ll let Raven call eat you�

She poked a long fingernail at the boy and he nodded numbly. Opal glared at her sister.

what?!? He deserved it� he couldn�t even handle a sweetheart like Raven call.

sweetheart?

Opal followed her sister�s footsteps with her own quiet walk, questioning her sister�s logic on the storm personified of a horse she rode.

They both entered the inn and Onyx lifted an eyebrow. It was pretty busy for how late at night it was. With a snort of distain for the smell she lead her sister to a chair closer to the fire and let her sit comfortably.

I am getting a drink, do you want anything?

just some water will be fine sister.

Onyx rolled her eyes and strode up to the bar, keeping her head low so the hood of her cloak kept her eyes from sight.

hey� bartender.. I want a glass of the hardest swill you serve here� and� a glass of water�

she sighs and spills a few coins on the table. She chanced to lift her head and notice the people around. The woman in the corner, the man was the one she had seen before, and the women he had carried in now was on the floor. She snorted at the amusement of it all as the tender gave her the drinks and she walked back to her sister, placing the glass in Opal�s pale hand before grabbing a chair herself. She took up watching the occupants just for the hell of being careful and sheer amusement to pass the time.


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Sheanna
Siquan

Posted: 2002-06-19 07:45     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
She pushed the door to the tavern open with a flourish, deliberately courting attention. The eshu paused for a second in the doorway, peeking out from under the hood of her cloak, sizing up the people within. An interesting group and more than the usual chaff that you could find in these sorts of places. Perhaps there was hope in this dreary place for something more interesting. It would be nice to find a place that wasn't so dull for once, somewhere with a story of its own to tell.

Taking two careful strides forward into the tavern, Sheanna pushed the hood back from her face. Dark brown eyes wandered over the patrons of the tavern, a dark humour bubbling up from within. Her skin was a good deal darker than most, the colour of dark gold as if the sun had touched her too much. She bowed to the assembled people, letting a touch of the theatrical seep into that simple action.

Ladies and gentlemen, good people of all ages, there was a lilt to her voice that almost made her seem as though she was singing the words. I bid you a good day and a good day to all...

...or not as the case may be.
She laughed at the joke that only she could understand, not caring if any should think her strange for it. Most people seemed to think the eshu unusual anyway, they just didn't behave as many thought a fae should. Sheanna though graceful could never be mistaken for one of the high fae, her movements spoke of pent up energy that did not sit well with other fae that she had met. All the other fae she had ever met had looked down upon her and her kind, perhaps not thinking the eshu worthy of being accepted as kith and kin to their own races.

Her long legs took her swiftly to the bar itself, her quarterstaff thudding softly beside her. Good barkeep and lord of the tavern, she said, still smiling, I have a boon to ask of you. Even as she spoke her eyes wandered behind the man, already looking at his wares. I am but a poor humble storyteller and I ask only that I might perform for you and your customers this day.

The bartender looked her up and down with open distain upon his face, And what would you be wanting in return?

Sheanna didn't reply quickly, instead taking a few moments to look closely at the man behind the bar. Could her expolits at the previous village have travelled her before her? The eshu were hardly a common race and it wouldn't take too much for someone to hear rumours and put two and two together. But no, they couldn't have heard about what had happened back there, not yet at any rate. And even if they had the chances were that any sane person would dismiss the rumours as fancy or at most the imaginings of a drunken few.

Why good sir all I ask is for a place by the fire tonight and a few vittals to keep my strength up. Is that too much to ask in exchange for a grand story of adventure or a song that could tame the wildest beast? I do not ask much and I am sure that you would find my talent good enough to please your customers. After all good music might persuade them to stay a little longer and a buy a little more, she winked like a fellow conspirator, her face masked in honest good humour. Already Sheanna could see him doing his simple sums behind a vapid expression, counting up the few extra coins he might get this evening.

Alright then, you can sleep by the fire and have the leftovers from the kitchen. Will that do as payment for your skills?

Oh you are too generous good sir, she replied, laying on the sarcasm so thickly that it was amazing how the man didn't pick up on it. With another great sweeping bow she started to turn away before turning back as though a thought had just occured to her. Might I have a glass of something in order to wet my voice before I begin? I have been travelling along the road for many a day and the dust does so harm my lungs.

He muttered under his breath, reaching for a opened bottle of cheap wine and a glass to pour it into. She could see from here that it contained no more than the dregs of the liquid and that it was poor quality to say the least. Frowning Sheanna said, Surely good lord you do not expect me to drink such wine? My voice is my living sir and I must not taint it by drinking a poor vintage.

As he looked at her, no doubt about to tell her to leave his tavern for her insolence, Sheanna let a little of her magic out. The illusion danced in the air between them, no more than dust in the light to any other. What the barkeep saw in the depths was a mystery to others but it made him swallow his words hastily. Still gulping he pushed the wine away and reached for a bottle of spirits on the shelf behind him. Will this do?

That'll do good sir, only a small glass of course, can't be drinking so much so early in the day. She grinned as he reached for a fair-sized glass anyway and poured out the clear liquid. Scooping up the glass she wet her lips with its contents, letting the liquid burn like fire on its way to her stomach. She'd tasted better but there again she had on her travels tasted much worse.

Sheanna made her way over to one side of the fireplace, reaching for the flute that hung from her belt. The eshu removed her cloak and set her staff to one side, even placing the glass of spirits on an empty table with the rest of her belongings. Then, with barely a breath to spare, she put the flute to her lips and began to play, letting the notes rise like smoke over the heads of those that were in the tavern.



"Land of Song!" cried the warrior bard,
"Tho' all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"


[ This Message was edited by: Sheanna on 2002-06-19 07:45 ]


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Kida
Tiram

Posted: 2002-06-19 10:56     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
After finishing her bath Kida walked back down the rickety stairs to the tavern... looking for company or some entertainment to help calm her pent up nerves. Running away and it being the first day on her own she decided that it was ok for her to be a but nervous but after tonight it must end... I am a free woman... a warrior woman... I'll make my own way in the world serving to those who are worthy of my talent...or have an adventure worth taking...Kida smiled at the thought of adventures and remembered all the times as a child she dreamed of being able to do what she now can... Her smile disappeared when she heard the introduction of the Eshu woman to the tavern.... Damn and blast of all the rotten luck... an Eshu storyteller here in this bar... Kida watched the eshu woman and when she started to play Kida felt more at home... the music was something she missed already... I can't stay here and watch the show the Eshu miss nothing and having a Elven runaway Princess would make a great tale... too good in fact. Kida got up and walked towards the stairs quickly hoping that she wasn't being noticed too much. The Eshu and their music tend to cause most creatures to listen to them and their music or tales whether they wanted to or not. As long as I keep a low profile she may let me leave thinking I am just an unappreciative human... not worthy of her great music or tales. Goddess I hope I can make it up the stairs and to my room... I don't need a confrontation this close to my homeland... it would send the royal guard onto me faster than I could escape because they could use magic to get to me...Just keep walking.. step, step, step, almost to the stairs... ok now up the stairs quickly... to the private room where you can be safe once more.



Why do people with closed minds always open their mouths? Relationships SUCK! I'm just a girl living in captivity... I'm just girl guess I am some kind of Freak!

[ This Message was edited by: Kida on 2002-06-19 11:02 ]


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Demon Lord Ten
Solera

Posted: 2002-06-19 22:08     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
As she hits the floor he sighs... such a small drunk... thing... woman or girl... it made no difference... she didn't look very old... not that it really mattered... he'd seen 90 look like 15...

He slowly stands... his back aching from the walking and riding he'd done... it had only been a few hours since he'd entered the tavern for the first time and already he seemed to have a charge...

How the girl got mixed up with orcs he wasn't inclined to dig too deeply into... but he couldn't leave her there on the floor...

She sits there muttering to herself for a minute before he takes the few steps needed to breach the distance between them.

Slowly he bends at the knees, his shoulders back and his cloak flaring at the bottom as his body suddenly shifts its weight.

As he lifts her she starts to struggle and scream in his face... to which he pays no mind... somewhere in the background he can hear her yelling at the top of her lungs calling him a string of obsenities that he would not have repeated had he been asked.

From time to time he would catch little clips blasting from her tiny body and wonder how such a loud voice could come from such a small body... when he reaches the stairs he stops to look past her and catches what she screams as she tries to beat him to death.

Quote:
Slime covered fuckin ORC!! Drop me now ye bugger 'er I'll crush yer bones!

BASTARD! Ya never gonna live ta regret this 'n!



He steps carefully as she struggles to free herself from his deathgrip, toe to heel, up the stairs, not looking back down but knowing that at least one of the two girls had glanced at him, however briefly... he could feel it.

Up the stairs and back to the room, with her struggling all the while, where he took the bitter potion from where he left it and all but forced it down her throat. It would quicken the healing and weaken the grasp of whatever poison was left in her system... it might even prevent the horrendous hangover she'd have on the morrow... What a night this was turning out to be...



Demon Lord Ten Renegade Shit slinger of DWT
Captor of Ceres' bathrobe
Edge master of ORBspeed kills: 1
Lyssia needs to give my mind back

[ This Message was edited by: Demon Lord Ten on 2002-06-19 22:32 ]


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Pearl Roulve
Tiram

Posted: 2002-06-19 23:13     Profile;   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
She choked on the nasty potion, and several more obscene gestures and words were spat at the man. She was furious, but all the same, tired.

Tired enough that when set upon the bed of a room she had paid for, her struggles stopped, as if a spell had ben cast upon her. And as if a spell had been cast over her, she fell at once into a deep sleep, troubled and fitful.

At times she murmered something in her sleep...too low to be made out, and sometimes she cried out for them to stop...cried out that they were hurting them...that they killed him...and that they were hurting her. At times, from closed eyes in her restless sleep, tears ran down her flushed cheeks. The potion was not having any affect at all upon her.

Finally, after an hour or so of mumbling and muttering and screaming and crying...she finally fell into an even deeper slumber, and her restlessness slacked off, and then ended altogether.

But it was not over, not by a long shot.

The staff, left carelessly in the room downstairs, now stood in front of the door, unassisted.

The man stared at it but briefly, for there was little to think of it other than an enchanted piece of wood...the contrivance of some mad sorceror of times long past.

But nevertheless.

The feeling was sudden. It was as if the wood were staring at him...dark, horrible thoughts seemed to spread from the thing with a horrible effect. It was giving him a terrible regard.

David began to slowly backaway from it, and yet it held its ground.

It was slow, at first...and though all that could be heard was the nearly peaceful breathing of Pearl in her bed, a low hum slowly ascended to perceptable levels.

There were mists near the staff, and soon, and very quickly at that, there was a woman within the mists.

She was tall...very tall, probably the height and a half of the owner of the staff...red hair fell down its back, ponytailed at the nape of the neck, full and lusterous and luminous, it seemed. The face was finely chisled, fair and elegant, yet now it was broken by a fierce snarl of disapproval, sharp fangs protruding from top and bottom of the mouth.

Her body was shapely, but was clad in only an uncomplex dress, midnight of color and flowing in its own luminescence. And the hands were at its sides...her sides, and at the end of each finger was a hideous claw...hideous for its sharpness, yet beautiful as if it were a dragons or some other kin to that race, yet on the hands of a human.

All David could do was stare...he was struck by awe, as would be many, but the awe was quickly washed away.

The staff and woman were not there any more, and suddenly a massive strength gripped his neck, and he felt himself thrust harshly against the wall. The woman was now before him, staff in her other hand and one hand on his neck, neither chocking him, nor hurting him, but holding him and giving the impression that hurt was certainly an option.

Eyes of firey red stared straight into his own...and they seemed to go deeper, beyond his eyes and into his mind...he tried to speak, but try as he might, the words would not form, or if they did, would never pass his lips as sound.

"You have touched what was forbidden...and because you have not harmed my Flower I shall not slay you here and now."

The words flowed from her as if they were a cold river of the mountains. It was fair as was she to look and hear, but malice and ageless contemplation laced each word..each was full of wisdom and promise.

Releasing the staff, she reached down to caress Pearls forehead, and a little smile crossed over the womans lips, before the spectral one returned her gaze of flames to him.

"Take care in your actions and your plans, David. I will always be nearby watching...and if ever harm or such as this befalls my Child again...then you shall know what pain is, and you will know what it is to join the ranks of the Dead!"

Cold sweat gleamed upon the mans face in the etherial light that seemed to radiate from the woman...and then she was gone, and the staff lay propped against Pearls' bed.

Once again the sound of soft breathing was the only thing to be heard.


A Demon on the Shoulder of WoR
Searching, treking, seeking an answer, a way, a path...
An answer to my questions, a way from my anguish, a path to happiness.


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Demon Lord Ten
Solera

Posted: 2002-06-23 21:23     Profile;   E-mail   Homepage Edit   Reply w/Quote
Even after being dropped to the floor and watching the staff collapse lifelessly to the floor David sat awestruck with his back against the wall.

His eyes were blank and the amulet was strangely silent... though it went entirely unnoticed. His gaze was centered on Pearl but for the look on his face he could have been looking at a blank white wall. The look on his face was confused... as if he had seen something that he had not thought possible...

A moment before the shade... or wraith... ghost... whatever... vanished he had tried to choke out a few words... but she had vanished before the numbness of his mind had worn away.

Now, sitting on the floor, he looked at the girl on the bed with something akin to fear.. but not quite... some kind of cautious admiration...

He quietly stands after almost an hour and walks down to the common room where he orders the same whiskey that she'd had and begins to drink... quickly... outside the sun had begun to peek over the mountains.



Progenitor of Evil in the land of Maxim
Executioner of the faithless
Edge Master of ORB
I am that which stalks you in the night


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