Mon, 01 Dec 1997 19:37:01 PST
From: Kien_Hal/Danijela
(I'm adding to my story. hehe.. I hope it makes for a good read. :) ...I am what I am and I do what I do. In the name of my forebearers I salute you...)
In a nameless village, Pestilence sneers as he catches the feel of the resurrected Spectre. A fit of violent coughing attacks him as he mounts his sickly excuse for a nag. Spitting up some blood-streaked phlegm he mutters out loud, "Who woke that old bastard up? Damn it all to Hell's Mistress." Spurring his pus-oozing horse into gear he moves on, his work far from over, and focuses on the fun ahead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Death looks up from his musings as his horse balks at some unheard noise. Kicking it cruelly he chuckles to himself as he sharpens his scythe, the next village coming into sight. "If he's awake, that means more fun for me. -Oh Yes, its gonna be a dark day for me.. Damn I love my job." Chuckling he kicks his bony steed again, impatience getting the better of him. "Come on ye bag of worthless bones. I move faster than ye do chained to Cerberus!" The stallion snorts, and manages a slow gallop, kicking up a dust-cloud on the dry, cracked road.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
War watches a village at odds with itself from a nearby hill, his stallion pawing the ground excitedly. Patting its neck reassuringly, he frowns as he feels the familiar chill run down his spine. Kicking his horse into a gallop, thoughts of mayhem are ignored as he ponders gathering the other Horsemen to Send this Master back to his place in Hell...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Days pass unnoticed as Kien_Hal and Arathanor talk in the depths of the castle, casting plan after plan away. Kien picks up a faint thought from the chaos of everything, an image of the Necromancer. Turning she looks at Arathanor, her eyes full of fire.
"You lied. All four Horseman are loose. Now Five of the Seven Seals are opened.. And this.. Necromancer, is a part of it. Why did you not tell me? For days we have been planning to prevent the rest of the seals from being opened, when in fact it is almost too late!" With a scream of rage she leaps at Arathanor, her face a mask of fury.
Arathanor, expecting her anger, deftly ducks and catches her in mid-leap. Twisting his body he pins her underneath him as they crash to the stone floor. Kien_Hal struggles viciously, but he holds her firm.
"You always wanted to know everything.. Didn't ever care about the cost. Ever. Now listen, and listen good. Those Armies, the ones we both know are being assembled, could defeat the Horsemen if they tried. But they will be totally annihilated if the rest of the seals are broken. Do you Understand?" He pauses, waiting for Kien's nod. Seeing it he continues.
"We must focus on the seals. We must Focus on the Necromancer.. His weakness, his loophole. we must find it. and Soon. Or else you can kiss your mortal friends and life as you know it Good Bye, because it will be no more!"
Kien_Hal sighs, realizing the truth.
"Damnit.. as much as I hate to admit it, you're right." Wriggling out from under Arathanor, she walks over to a chair and sits heavily. "So what do we do? Engage the bastard in battle? Follow him like we are his shadows? Tell me, oh greatly enlightened one, what shall we do?"
Arathanor sneers as he pulls up a chair in front of Kien_Hal.
"We do the Dance of Darkness, my dear. Surely you remember the dance?"
Kien_Hal nods faintly.. "Aye, I do."
Kien rises from her seat wearily and closes her eyes, tapping into the source of Life that Lies in the Earth. Arathanor mimics her, and their efforts become one as their bodies merge to become one, and the form shifts to that of a shapeless nearly transparent black shadow. Cold laughter fills the dungeon room as the Spectre melds into the shadows and moves stealthily thru the countryside, searching for the Necromancer.
The few living creatures that catch glimpse of this Spectre on its trek would only feel a cold chill that gives rise to goose bumps on their skin, and would turn their heads to search for the source of a cold voice seemingly soft and dark at the same time..
Tue, 02 Dec 1997 17:44:58 -0500
From: Ernie/Simon/Lerrad/Tuckian/etc
Simon shifts a bit in his bed, mumbling something to himself before his eyes flutter open to a half awake state. He takes in a breath, looking up at the ceiling and thinking about the strange dreams he had, wondering who the little man was and why he was carrying the sword. Simon lays there a little longer, watching the ceiling with sleepy eyes. After a while, he sits up and yawns as he slides off the side of the bed. Simon stumbles his way out of his room, rubbing his eyes and allowing another big yawn. His sleepy eyes do not allow him to notice the dwarf, Thorak, in the corner of his room. He does not stop when his leg bumps into something strange jutting from the middle of the stone floor.
He steps down the hall and to the top of the stairs, then sits on the top stair and leans against the railing, closing his eyes and considers going back to bed. He shakes his head and lifts his face, pulling himself to his feet...determined not to be asleep any more. Not to see those strange images anymore: the man, the sword, the tree.
As he steps down the stairs and across the Great Hall, he sees Wenn asleep in her chair. He smiles softly and quietly steps to her side, not wanting at all to wake her. She never knows that he comes and watches her when she sleeps, that he stands by her side for long moments and just looks at her. She doesn't know...he'd bet anything...that he wakes in the night, when she has come into his room to sleep, and watches her...sometimes even kissing her lightly in the cheek.
He smiles, glancing at her belly and winking, then turns and crosses to the table. He shoots a quick look over his shoulder as he scoots open the draw under the table top, not wanting to wake Wenn. Thankfully, the drawer does not make too much sound and he is able to retrieve his sketch pad and colors. He looks around, knowing that if he pulls out one of the chairs, it will surely wake up Wenn. Instead, he moves in a quiet rush to the end of the table to the large Wolf Chair that Daddy sits in.
Setting the pad and colors up on the tabletop, Simon worms his way into the chair and sets up on his knees, opening the pad and leaning over to begin his sketch of the scene that is still fresh in his mind. His eyes fill with concentration as he sketches, biting his tongue through his lips as he draws each and every line to the best he can. Simon stops a moment, looking at the unfinished work...then begins again, shading and sketching more.
After perfecting the work a while longer, he straightens on his knees and looks at the drawing, nodding and thinking to himself, 'This is what I saw. A man..a sword..and a tree.' There were other things in the drawing, like the moon behind the man and the bird, but the man, the sword and the tree..he knew these were the important parts.
Simon blinks, trying to think on why he had the dream, when a yawn over takes him and he sits back against the finely carved chair. He leans his head against the arm of the chair, the drawing now in his lap, and curls his feet up close. He stares at the drawing for a long while, or perhaps it was just a few moment, before sleep overtakes him and he quickly begins to dream again, of the man with the sword...and the tree.
Tue, 02 Dec 1997 15:17:29 PST
From: Taralon Phoenix
((Well...War seems a little left out...so I'm going to jump back a bit..to just after the first battle...I'll keep the white charger and the blood red cape though...fits in with this image...hope you don't mind...since I can't do italics mind conversations will be denoted with *'s ))
Taralon slowly steps out of the fire that rages inside the great oven at the Phoenix Keep. He smiles slightly to the cook who has never seemed to have gotten over the shock of seeing him enter in such a way. He grabs a sweet roll and some candies off of the counter before the cook can recover and quickly strides up the back stairs to the library. Licking his fingers he slowly walks down the aisles scanning the backs of the books and the labels on the scrolls. He makes a note of a few for future reference, and others to make copies of to take back to Camelot with him when he returns. He leaves the note upon the library keeper's desk knowing that it will all be taken care of.
Taralon slowly walks down the hallway of the castle making his way to what would be the chapel in any other keep, and so this room is in a way, but different than many others. As he opens the door his form shimmers and morphs into that of his half man, half phoenix form to better prepare himself for what comes. In the middle of the room there is a large fire, which burns continually but seems to consume no fuel as it does so. Taralon slowly enters this fire, and takes a seat Yoga style in the middle of the flames.
*Father, I have come to take of your enlightenment. Please hear my plea and fill my being with your flames so that I can fully see what my purpose in the coming battle is.* Taralon inclines his head in concentration as he reaches outwards with his thoughts, opening his mind and soul to his Lord.
Dimly something is see to take shape in the flames before Taralon. *My son, I know that it troubles you to not know your purpose, but for now I do not know what to say. The forces of chaos are at work here, and none know the true path, not even the weavers of fate it is said.*
*Father, tell me at least what you wish me to do. I cannot sit by idle as events continue around me. I must do something.*
*Be as you are, help those you can, give hope to all others. You are my avatar, and the symbol of continuation even in death. Nothing more can you be. Nothing more...nothing less...* With this the voice fades off and the apparition slowly fades.
Taralon sits quietly in the flames meditating about what he was told, and what he has learned through his readings. He is interrupted by a knocking upon the doors to the room. He stands slightly agitated at the interruption as he had not sifted through everything in his mind as of yet. He quickly pulls open the door and says tersely, "Yes? What is it that demands my attention to much?"
"There is a rather large man in a blood red cape and black armor, with a white charger at the gateway, Taralon. He wishes to speak with you quite urgently, or so he conveyed." The chamberlain answers quite calmly. "I believe you should see him immediately he mentioned something about razing the keep if you do not come."
"Aye I will be there shortly, just allow me enough time to stop by the armory to get a pair of bracers."
"Good. I shall inform him you will be right along M'Lord, only do not take to long he looked rather impatient."
Taralon nods and then hurries down the hallway to the armory. When he gets there he pulls a pair of bracers made of a silvery colored metal off the wall and secures them to his arms. Thin trails of blood run down his fingers as the barbs on the inside pierce various veins arteries in his arms. After this is done he hurries to the main doors of the keep to confront what he hopes is not truly there.
"So there you are," a sneering voice comes from the one who wears the cloak, "the one they say fights with no weapons, and only defends his the weak."
"Aye here I am, pale shade of death, do not think I do not recognize you for what you truly are, Horseman of War."
"So you truly can recognize me. That is what the others said, but I believe I can turn you from your ways still," a sneer crosses his face, "pathetic as they are."
"You have no control over me or those in this keep, as we are protected from death, and thus, from you."
"That we shall see," and with a self satisfied smile War leaps at Taralon clearing his broadsword from its sheath and swinging it in a mighty cross-handed blow at the unarmed man.
Taralon brings his arm up to block the sword and War blinks as his broad blade fails to cleave the arm in two. Taralon smiles faintly and says, "As I said, we have protection against you, and though I do not take up weapons does not mean I am defenseless."
War's eyes take on a glazed gleam as he tastes fear for the first time. Never before has he faced one his sword could not take down in a single blow, never before has he faced one upon whom his powers fail to bring to anger. War quickly steps back resheathing his sword, "I shall be back, but I have other things before I tend to the pleasure of killing you." With that he mounts his white charger and rides swiftly off into the canyons around the keep.
Taralon steps back into the keep, his arms and legs shaking as he says one word to the chamberlain, and then he collapses upon the ground. The chamberlain nods, and claps his hands and a pair of servants appear to drag Taralon back into the kitchen fire.
Tue, 9 Dec 1997 18:19:47 -0800
From: Sharon/LadyXan
(typist note: Talking with DK it became apparent to both of us we needed to get Xan up to where DK's 'Two Weeks Later' chapter started. So here's the catch up part... it starts one week before DK's chapter [Crossroads] starts...)
Xan stood and stretched her back muscles, gently rubbing her lower back as she made her way toward the fireplace to toss in another piece of wood. A shiver ran down her spine as a gentle breeze touched her from behind. She was almost afraid to turn around, knowing exactly who she was going to find.
" Come now, Daughter, it's not that bad, is it?" a musical chuckle escaped soft lips. Xan turned, a wry grin on her face as she faced her Mistress.
" Nay, Mother. It's just that whenever you show up, it usually means you have a task for me to do. With the way things are going right now, there's no telling what you'll ask of me. "
" Well, Xanthia, I do have a mission I want you to go on. I need you to go and be part of the War Council~~"
" ME?! Part of a War Council? But Mil---" Xan curbed her words as the lady held up her hand.
" You are needed there, by Dream Knight. "
" But, but...." Xan's words seeped away as she caught her Lady's eyes and chose to sigh instead.
" Xanthia, you would think that after all this time in my service, you would learn not to question my words or actions. " Xan's head bowed in shame at the gentle rebuke.
" I will go, " Xan whispered. The Lady nodded her head.
" Don't worry, Daughter, I would not ask you to break your vows. " Xan nodded and looked upon her Mistress wearily.
" Where must I go?"
" To the Round Table here in Camelot in one week hence you'll be summoned there. Do not fail me, Xanthia. The mission is an important one. "
" I will not fail thee, Milady. " Xan crossed the room and dropped to one knee in front of the Great Lady and felt a gentle touch upon the crown of her head.
" Good. Too much is happening and we all have a part to play in this Great Battle, my Daughter, even you." A gentle breeze touched Xan's head and was gone. Without looking up, she knew the Lady was gone again. Standing, Xan walked to the bedroom window and looked up at the night sky... it was dark...so dark.... too dark even. She shivered. Her thoughts winged to the Round Table. She had seen the Round Table before. Once, shortly after arriving in Camelot, Xan had explored the Castle. Upon finding the Round Table, she had gone inside the Great Room and run her hands over the table and it's chairs, picturing the Knights of the Old Realm and the ones of this Realm, sitting in the chairs, talking about War and all manner of things that Knights speak of.
Never in her wildest imagination had she ever expected to stand in the same room with others present as they discussed the unholy things happening now. She wondered what her task was to be, why she was going to be needed by those fighting this battle. She sighed. There was no use in wasting energy trying to guess what was to come. She would know soon enough.
A week later there was a knock on her bedroom door, opening it, she saw the Chamberlain.
" Chamberlain, what is it? Is it the Lady Wenndolyne?" She sighed with relief as Chamberlain shook his head.
" Nay, Milady. The Lady Wenndolyne is fine. I have a missive here for you, " he held out a parchment. Xan took it, smiling at him.
"My thanks, Chames. Is there a messenger waiting?"
" Aye, Milady. " Xan nodded.
" Then if you will see to it he is given something hot to drink and a bite to eat perhaps, while I read this and respond?" Chames nodded.
" I've already seen to it, Milady." Xan chuckled.
" You're a good man, Chames. No wonder the Lord and Lady Wolf prize you so highly. I'll be down to see you shortly. Thank you, Chames. " Xan shut the door and broke open the seal on the parchment, reading the missive as she goes to her desk. Picking up her quill, she dipped it in ink and began to write an answer. It didn't take her long to finish it. She simply told Dream Knight she would be there at the appointed time. She sprinkled sand upon the wet ink, shaking the access off , folding her missive and sealing it with wax. Well, it was done.... she would be where the Lady asked her to be. Xan took the missive and left her room to go downstairs looking for Chames, hoping he was still about.
Finding Chames, she gave him the missive and watched as he walked toward the kitchen to deliver it to the messenger. She frowned as she watched him leave. Now, all she had to do was wait......
E-mail comments and/or corrections to Diana/Wenn & Co