Date: Wed, 10 Dec 1997 05:34:08, -0500
From: Tyralor/Kessell/Destilnys
Tyralor moved rapidly over the wooden rooftops, his padded feet falling lightly on the granular surface, leaving barely a whisper of his passing. More noticeable, on this cool, crisp and clear night was his form. Clothed in darkness, he stood out regardless, his crouched form moving from rooftop to rooftop within the city walls. His wispy breath trailing out of his mouth, his eyes scanning the surface ahead, making certain of no loose shilling or place to step falsely. He gathered speed for a moment. Crouched on the lip of the rooftop and then sprang, his arc gracefully covering the ten foot gaping hole between roofs. He landed on his feet, then sprang forward again, a quick tumble and he was brought back to his feet, avoiding the unnecessariness of a loud cluttering thump. He smiles grimly for a moment, now safely arrived at his destination.
Under normal circumstances, he had fairly strict rules. This evening however he was breaking one of them and knew he would have to leave no trace of his passage. Below him lived a minister, a wise and knowing man, respected and valued by most members of the populace. Unfortunately, there were enough to pay well for his demise. And for once, Tyr let temptation overwhelm him, and bring him to this point. His own faith conflicted with the man's below, and that aided him somewhat. It helped enough. Carefully Tyralor paced the length of the roof, and satisfied with the aid of a quick glance, he moved halfway along it, and carefully lifted one of the boards up. His work silent and secure as always, he set up the single hook grapple and rope, flaying the thin black string down to the area below. For a moment he paused, and looked up to the ill boding moon..sighing slightly, as this time was not the best for casual flights under darkness. Still the purse was too much. Over his tender flesh he wrapped a set of gloves, and picked up the length of cord. Then he moved over the edge.
Tyralor smiled to himself as he looped the rope tightly around his waist and entwined it tightly around his ankles as well. The house of the victim this evening was surprisingly well laid out. The window bore a small lock as well as a normal latch. Thus Tyr had to deal with this minor difficulty in addition. He was prepared of course, and after making certain he was secure, let go of the rope with both his hands, flipping over upside down. His hands spread out and hit both sides of the window, slowing his motion with little room to spare. Then he carefully set to work with his picks, the latch slowly falling open. Unnoticed on the street below, a young child approached the front door, and pushed it open, entering the vast home.
Tyralor pushed the pane open slowly, loosed himself from the ropes and glided slowly into the room, taking painstaking length of time to prevent so much as the creak of wood, or the squeak of metal.
Satisfied there was nothing to worry of, he slowly closed the glass window behind him, before taking his first look around. Turning to look around the room he took in the details first. The holy symbol, large and overbearing struck him first and his eyes moved on quickly to avoid staring at it over long. Next was the alter itself, lit with a pair of candles, standing a silent vigil throughout the night, casting a soft glow on the room. Not nearly enough to display the assassin, cloaked in his own manner, but enough to prevent him from stumbling around in darkness. The room otherwise was spartan, containing a single dresser, bedside table, chair and the bed itself, from which soft rumbling noises drifted over to Tyralor's ears. A small smile and quick nod of self appraisal touched Tyralor then. With glittering cold eyes he took a step forward, preparing his needle to terminate the man's life. Then the faint patter of a child's footstep touched his ears. Tyr frowned, looking from the bed to the door and slinked back slowly and stealthily, taking refuge in the darkness governed by the dresser. The footsteps faltered by the door, and the wizened man in the bed stirred at that precise moment. Coming startled awake he turned over in his bed and looked around in bewilderment, seeing nothing of course. Then the door opened, light pooling across the floor, and spreading to highlight the minister as well. Tyr frowned for a moment as the thin, nearly gaunt child walked in and said in a faintly musical whisper. "Bless me father." The man in the bed straightened to a sitting position, flabbergasted and uncertainty written all over his face, managed only a mangled splutter in reply. Tyralor narrowed his eyes at the strange child, and then nearly gasped as something burned on his chest. He darted back as silently as he could, his motions muffled by the priest's wrestling with his bed covers and squeaking of bed boards. Tyr's hands covered his chest as best they could, trying to hide a soft blue glow emanating from under his clothing. His eyes were unusually wide, and clouded with fear. Tyralor forced himself to breath easily for a few seconds, almost becoming terrorized as the child's plain voice repeated its request of "Bless me father." From the sounds of the motion, the child had crossed the floor of the room and had knelt by the father's bedside. The priest blurted out that he had no holy water to bless the child with, still not finding his mind.
For Tyralor, time seemed to slow for a moment. Clarity touched his mind and he knew somehow, his divinity had stepped in for a moment, warning himself of the danger. His calm was returned with this knowledge, and he knew his target this evening was not the priest, but another. Slowly Tyralor rose, the amulet of his faith dropping to lie lightly upon his forefront. The priest, raising his hand to bless the child, having lost the arguments against it, paused again, eyes widening at the sight of the cold assassin in the room.
"Bless me father." The child stated yet again, its amber eyes lifting up to look at the man. Then even it paused and looked to the side. For a moment it did nothing, merely stared, like the priest, at Tyralor. Then it rose, making its way to Tyralor. The words formed on its lips were yet another repetition. "A child shall lead them."
Tyralor inhaled and then exhaled shrugging. "I don't care." "Bless me Tyralor." This time Tyralor took a step back, glancing to the awestruck priest, knowing there would be nothing from that one. Tyralor inhaled quietly, and then stated simply. "You will receive no such thing from me."
A fraction of a second passed and Tyralor sensed defeat. Beneath him he knew there was something building up, yet it wasn't released immediately. The child stopped, and knelt before Tyralor, repeating its desire yet again, its inflections never changing, never altering.
Tyralor reached down, as though to touch the child's shoulder and begin a blessing. Instead the needle still held in his grasp drove its way into the side of the things throat. The priest gasped at the action, seeing the glimmer of silver protruding for the kid's throat. Tyralor simply fell back, knowing himself to be overmatched.
The child opened its eyes, and stared at Tyralor, the flames flying up to incinerate the one who defied. In response, too slow to move Tyr wrapped his arms around himself, concealing his face. His boots flared up in violet colors, two of his rings and an earring strove mightily, blue arcs of lightning sparkling and tracing their way around the magic. Each one disintegrated slowly, the magic destroyed. Yet even as the last faded, so did the flames. For a moment, his face darkened with soot, his brows gone, and his fingers twitching with pain, Tyralor stared at the child. No emotions touched his face. On the child's behalf, the acid had dripped beyond its ability to repair itself. The child's spine had been eroded away at the pinnacle. Little even gods can do to restore one so badly damaged. Yet this child did not die. Its concentration shattered, and it's ability shortened, it strove onwards. The bed also was destroyed, a charred remain lay there. The rest of the room was covered in ash as well, leaving only a marked Tyralor and the child.
In frustration more than anything, Tyralor uncurled his fingers and then charged the creature, meaning to throttle it with his own hands. Yet this proved to be impossible. Its feet unimpeded in any manner suddenly took into action, propelling it to the side and with a spring, shattered the glass of the window.
As Tyralor glanced down to the street below, he saw nothing. Just a splattering of blood where a body would have landed. There was no trace to suggest that anyone had walked away. His eyes scanned the skies, then the streets again. Yet he could see nothing.
Damage had been done, the work would be slowed, but his task was not completed. In a sense, he had failed. Thus the damaged Tyralor slipped slowly from the house of the minister that evening, to collect the reward, and to keep his tale silent.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Destilnys positively giggled as he danced around the spectre of War's horse, driving the disgusting creature to distraction. Pestilence itself tried to spur the creature onward, yet despite it all, nothing occurred. Struck fast to the rock below it, incapable of moving, it remained at Destilnys's whim. "I know, cards. Everyone likes playing cards don't they?" Destilnys withdrew a deck from a pocket, shuffling it easily in one hand. In one pass, the nine of hearts passed by three times, and the four of spades made two appearances. the stack itself looked to contain only forty cards anyway, and of course, none of this bothered Dest at all. He clambered up behind War, who glared at the man he could neither ignore, nor get rid of. Dest having a blast, tapped on the various parts of War, waiting to see if anything would ring hollow, the cards fluttering free of his hand to land on the ground below, and blow away under the ill boding breeze.
"Say, if you don't want to play cards, I betcha there's a bunch of other things that you and I could do together? Ever sat by a peaceful stream and watched the lazy clouds move by overhead? It's an absolutely adorable sight. You really have to." Destilnys slid off the steed at this point, narrowly avoiding being beheaded by the spectre. Yet for all the spectre's desire, whatever manner of creature Destilnys was, whatever it possessed, it could do nothing. The horses feet were stuck fast to the ground, the steed itself as still as rock. And the spectre's own feet were laced, perhaps wedged in the stirrups. No amount of effort had managed to pull them loose, and the day before when he had encountered this fellow sitting upon the nearby log, he had thought only to have some fun. Since then he had learnt much. Nothing. absolutely nothing of any value. The creature's name, the sexual pleasures of orcan cultures, the devotion of new religions to the word "Gah!", the power of little rocks over pebbles which were the same thing regardless of name. None of these made so much as an ounce of sense to the spectre. And through all of it he was forced to suffer. Not once had the person below him run out of breath, not once had it stopped and lost its concentration. Always it spoke, occasionally in riddle, occasionally in philosophy. Never about its purpose. In desperation War considered calling the other horsemen. Finally, it began to believe it would have no choice. Nothing could stop war, yet this creature had. On a battle field that was suppose to have erupted in chaos later this day, a treaty had been signed instead. Somehow War believed this creature to be responsible. And for that, it would die.
Dest smiled ever so charmingly at the man. He took time out from a little jig, so he hoped War appreciated the effort being shown to him. It was supposedly, alright just to leave War hanging around and cursing its position. But Dest had always liked the personalized touch and had wandered over to waylay and entertain War.
"Comic relief is an often powerful tool. Just look at crickets. They're positively full of humor. I have to admit, if I spent all day rubbing my back legs over my thorax I would have to find something very humourous. So you figure that crickets see the world from a very different perspective. Of course it's beyond me. I mean, they're crickets. Wether they're funny or just scratching themselves, which has it's own sense of humor...erm, what was I talking about? Ah well, now sparrows are an interesting species as well. They run around all day. Well actually they tend to fly, since they have wings you know
A mocking laugh could be heard, and for a second, Destilnys's merry form could be seen prancing lightly between two boulders, spinning to his own rhythm, and dance, he disappeared as promptly as he was seen. War turned his steed, and left that area. For once, it had been defeated by something no more, apparently than a harmless fool.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kessell shifted slowly through his lore, and searched for an answer to the plaguing problem. His ball of scrying had penetrated even the darkest refuges and his knowledge of the upcoming events had been brought to his attention quite by accident. Yet this could not remain so. He had maintained his existence for near a millennia, and even something as cold as he, would not permit the world to be destroyed for the sake of another. His own power, desire for knowledge would prevent this. And so he strove through the manuals, searching for a long lost fragment of lore. The sixth seal was his target. he could do nothing directly, yet he knew of a piece of a puzzle set when the world was created. He needed to find it though, and thus his work space was a clutter of document, pages, and more. Willowy candles spread throughout the litter gave it the glow required for sight. Soon, the knowledge would be his, and a prevention could take place. Soon, the Necromancer would have to acknowledge not only he and his allies controlled the world they lived in. Soon, he sneered as he flung his current manual away, I will have the control to decide the fate of the world in my own hand.
Then the others shall sway to my will, he thought to himself, seeking not to prevent, only to prevent the knowledge, alter the outcome so that the Necromancer was replaced. Behind him, a row of stones lay glittering, each ready for its separate task. Each prepared to be placed, secured and settled. Together capable of little. Together capable of holding the Necromancer's plans at bay.
Date: Wed, 10 Dec 1997 08:24:40 -0600
From: Diana/Wenn & Co
(( This can be separated from Part 1, I think.. as in, a few other chapters sandwiched in between, if ya wanna - Diana/Wenn -))
All too soon the communion of thoughts between Wenn and Wolf is over, yet what replaces it is even more wondrous to Wenn. She awakens slowly to share Wolf's bright smile and sighs as he softly kisses her brow. A warm golden light surrounds them and grows more brilliant. As the light intensifies, so does a peaceful feeling flow through them... Wolf, Wenn and Elandra. Their spirits seem to be floating without form and soon they feel the presence of Simon as well, though none can actually see the other. There is nothing to see but warm light, soft as a summer's day. Slowly the image of a Lady in White comes into being as from a deep dream to reality. Her countenance is too beautiful to describe, her voice more felt than heard is as lyrical as any angelic chorus. "Child... " she says quietly.
They all know without explanation that the Mother refers to Wolf. "I sent you home... but I fear you cannot stay." Her voice is soothing, despite her words. "There is something more you must do." He who is LordWolf but now only a child of light to the Mother, acknowledges the charge she gives him. The details of the task are revealed only to him but the others trust and know that what she asks must be done without question, whatever it is. There is no sorrow in this though it means he must again depart. The peace and comfort of the Mother's aura protects them all from any such thoughts. The Mother charges each of them to hold fast to their love for each other in whatever lies ahead. She reassures Wenn that all will be well and promises an artifact to carry with her for this assurance. To he who is LordWolf, she grants an unspoken request and allows her aura to fade so that they may have corporeal presence once again.
Three persons now stand together in a cocoon of soft light. Wolf kneels to Simon and wraps his arms around his son even as Simon's arms go 'round his father's neck. Wolf's whispered voice asks Simon to care for mother and sister while he is away, adding a promise to return the very moment he is able. Simon nods against his shoulder then leans back enough to kiss Wolf's cheek. Wolf rises again, eyes still locked on Simon's face as they exchange bright smiles, proud father to loving son.
Turning to Wenn, Wolf's hand goes to hers where it rests on her belly. His other hand softly caresses her cheek and she presses her face into his palm. He leans forward as his lips find hers for a soft kiss that then turns into a deep and passionate kiss as their arms embrace each other surrounding the mound of baby between them. They part from the kiss and the embrace, but forest emerald eyes gaze into deep sapphire eyes for a few moments longer... until the Mother's voice comes gently to them again "Tis time, Child."
Wolf looks from Wenn to Simon then nods obediently to the Lady in White, who completes her instructions. "You may briefly instruct your pack then we must away to convince your brother. He may not agree so readily with the merits of the cause at hand." Wolf furrows his brow, knowing this is true and though he finds it distasteful, to say the least, to have to join forces with Quietus... maintaining the Balance requires him to put any such reservations aside. Slowly the golden warm light and the Lady fade away... and Wolf with them. Outside on the keep grounds, a bright light glows between the trees and then shrinks and fades revealing a large arctic wolf. AncientWolf scents the air then throws back his head and howls a call to action. As soon as the chorus of howls responds, he bounds off into the night to join them.
Awakened by a piercing howl, Wenn squints to focus in the room lit only by pale moonlight. She smiles softly to Simon's little snoring sounds where he lays curled up near her, covers pulled tightly around him. Wenn reaches up to rub the sleep from her eyes as her mind tries to clear away night's fog. She is surprised to find her hand clenched around something. Wenn holds her closed hand up into a stream of moonlight, revealing a fine silver chain looped around her thumb. As she opens her hand, a jewel falls from her palm to sway at the end of the chain. Wenn smiles softly at the emerald pendulum, a deep forest emerald, faceted in a tear drop shape. Deep within the gem is a glow, more than the moon's reflection, a slightly wavering light, a warm soft light, Wolf's light.
Wenn slips the chain over her head and pulls her long hair out of the silver loop. She gets comfortable again, snuggled under the covers. Her hand clasped around the emerald pendant. As her waking mind slowly gives way to sleep again, she feels the comfort and peace as when they were all together with the Mother. She knows that while the light glows within the emerald, Wolf is safe and will return as soon as he can. She knows she will soon have a daughter who has, after a fashion, already met her loving father, Wenn's beloved Wolf.
Date: Thu, 11 Dec 1997 16:59:02 -0700
From: Dan (Rannis/Mystaran/Kavin_Hunter/Too many others)
~
His fur bristled as he stalked through the heavy woods, his large padded paws soundlessly setting down on the forest floor. His luminous green eyes scanned the area ahead of himself, wary at all times for what lay ahead. His tail seemed to hover behind him, the tip curling only slightly. His jet black fur blended in well with his surroundings, as did the panther beside him. The one thing which distinguished the two of them was their eyes. The luminous green, mystical and enchanting in appearance, and the other a dark brown, shining with both compassion, and mystery.
Rannis briefly set himself to spring, then leapt over a fallen log, landing with a silent grace. Lore followed, paws touching down beside her husband. And they began their stalking through the silent woods.
The forest was unusually quiet. No birds fluttered through the treetops. No wind to rustle the branches. It all seemed to wait in anticipation for what was to come. A leaf released itself from a tree branch, and fluttered down in front of his nose. He took that moment to lower his head to the ground, and sniff. His ears pricked towards a sound off into the distance, perhaps fifty odd meters to the left.
Lore had picked it up as well, and was beginning to turn towards it, both of her feline ears rotated towards where it had come. He shook his head, and sent her a thought message, **No. Not that way.** As she turned again to look at him, he nodded forwards. **It's still this way.**
She scowled a little, turning again to look in the direction of the sound, but in the end, nodded, and began to follow close behind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The three stood just outside the massive tower which stretched into the pale sky, which seemed to shift slowly in colors, from a red to an orange, and back again. No clouds drifted there, for it was fabricated, and according to the Circle, clouds were mere annoyances and wastes of valuable energy. The city was large, and busy with merchants of this world and dimension, as well as those exotic beings from dimensions far distant.
The tower seemed made of one solid ethereal crystal, the common currency in this place, the Circle Realm. The double doors were mere solid oak, or seemed that way to the untrained eye. Closer inspection revealed a dull reddish glow seeping from around the edges, marking a protection spell of some sort. An ugly gargoyle doorknocker was set in the center of the door on the left, and seemed to leer down at them with eyes that spilled a hazy crimson light.
Charit adjusted his robes around himself, and spoke directly to the door, "Charit of the 2nd Circle, Rannis of the 3rd Circle, and LoreMistress of Earth, to gain audience with the council."
The doorknocker sneered at Charit, eyes seeming to focus on him. "Well excuuuuse me, oh grand exhalted one," It said, in it's usual sarcastic tone. "Forgive ME if I stand in your way!"
"We don't have time for this," Charit stated, his eyes losing their usual look of compassion for a moment, truly wishing they'd replace the damned thing with a more congenial doorknocker.
"Ooooooooh. So NOW you don't have time for me. 'Oh PLEASE, mister doorknocker. PLEASE let us in and see the council'. What do I freakin' look like!? The doorman!?"
Rannis rolled his eyes skyward, standing beside Charit's ankle. His form was that of a black alleycat, and beside him, sat the grey siamese, Lore.
"Actually, you ARE the doorman, of sorts," Charit said with a sigh, explaining as he would to a child. The doorknocker sneered at Charit, then turned it's nose upwards with an indignant sniff. "Fine. Go in. See if I care."
The door swung open on smooth hinges, revealing a swirling portal beyond. LoreMistress looked at it with skepticism as Rannis nudged her forwards, but put her trust in him and stepped inside, vanishing at once. He followed close behind her, and Charit, in turn, followed him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
**Come on.** Rannis said through harsh mental whisper, his ears now flattened against his skull at the chill which ran down his spine. **We're close.**
The two panthers darted side by side through the underbrush, outside the lair, shoulder almost brushing against shoulder as they moved in tandem. He stopped at once, Lore falling in beside him. Two noses turned upwards, scenting the air. Rannis looked sidelong at her. **Smell that?**
LoreMistress crinkled her nose, the corner of her lip upturning in a sneer. **Smells rotten.**
He nodded, and turned towards the embankment in the forest floor. Seemingly a sheer drop, he realized otherwise.. and stepped through the illusionary wall. Lore bounded behind him, fast at first to catch up, and fell into step beside him.
The interior of the tunnel was dark, and smelled musty, but their vision, enhanced by their feline forms, picked out nearly every feature in the dark, the coarse earthen walls, roots and twigs jutting through. He lead the way, following the natural curve of the tunnel downwards, and a little to the left. The smell grew stronger, assaulting their senses with the odor of rotted flesh.
**We're almost there** Said Rannis.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Charit of the 2nd, Ranarak of the 3rd, and LoreMistress of Earth, step forward." The voice of the Circle Elder boomed through the darkened room. The room seemed endless, with a large circle upon which they stood, the only surface visible, lighted by an unknown source. It seemed to be made of some sort of coarse stone, yet felt warm to the pads on the bottom of his feet as he stepped forward with the others.
The faces of the 1st Circle Elders were not visible, concealed somewhere in the darkness before them. Even the light of the portal from which they had come was now shut out, as the door had closed behind them.
The trio stopped in the center of the Circle, Rannis and Lore side by side, and Charit to Rannis' left. Rannis and Lore, both as one sat back on their haunches, their tails encircling their feet.
"How dare you bring an Earther into our midst, Ranarak of the 3rd!?" Came an angry voice, centered off to one side. It was answered by another voice, feminine, from the other, "She's not even a candidate! This goes against all law!"
"When has Ranarak ever obeyed law!?" Another voice answered, from another part of the darkness, "This offer was a mistake!" Rannis gritted his teeth together to avoid responding to the accusations, before his turn to speak.
More accusation shot back and forth, an angry buzz rising through the darkness. A voice, louder then all, causing the cats' ears to pin to their skulls echoed from dead center of the darkness. "SILENCE!"
And the room silenced instantly. The voice grumbled, and then rose again to address the three standing before them. "Charit of the 2nd. You were charged to bring Ranarak before this council to decide what is to be given in the aid of Earth. You were not authorized to bring this.. Earther. She is neither candidate or initiate. And her skill in magic is--*"
"Adequate!" Rannis snarled, unable to remain silent any longer. "As 3rd Circle Sorcerer, she is MY candidate. And she will remain under MY watch."
"That remains to be seen," The voice grumbled, ignoring the outburst. "But I will allow it."
LoreMistress' heart leapt into her throat as Rannis' words clicked in her mind. She looked at him wide eyed, tail swishing nervously. Unconsciously, she curled up a paw and licked the pad.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He leapt into the next shadow, eyes fixed now on the orange glow flowing from the elliptical room that they approached. She stayed with him, crouching low in the shadows and peering past his shoulder.
The creatures in the room had gathered around the center of the room, scattered bones and bloody bits scattered around them. A sickening tearing came to them, almost turning Lore's stomach as she watched the larger one rend the flesh from a human leg.
Rannis scowled at the sight, but wasn't sickened by it, due to his years of experience. He looked around carefully, his eyes searching for the artifact. His gaze fell upon the pile of gathered treasure at the far side of the room; a virtual horde. But they had to get past these.. beasts.. which served as guard to the treasure. And taking on so many daemons would not be easy. His eyes snapped back to Lore, and he nodded a reassurance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You were called here for a reason, Ranarak of the 3rd. YOU are our contact on Earth. We have seen what is happening, and we have discussed this thoroughly. It is of popular desire to give aid. But.. We will not interfere more than is necessary. It is not our world." The voice began, "So we have decided the following. We will send 10 of our 10th Circle Initiates, and 4 of the 6th Circle. And we will keep you and Charit of the 2nd there. The 14 Initiates will aid in reinforcing the Hosts of Light that have gathered. You, and Charit of the 2nd will concentrate on other tasks."
Rannis listened, nodding every now and then to show that he understood as the man continued. He stared into the darkness with his unblinking luminous green eyes, black tail swishing ever so slightly. "What tasks, Great One?"
"What we ordain is necessary, Ranarak of the 3rd. At the moment, we have a task." The elder paused for a moment, and a tracing of light appeared in the air before them, drawing out a forest setting. The view began to shift slowly through the forest, as though searching. "It has come to our attention that the villages around this area have experienced recent attack by daemons of a sort. We have done some research, and have located this." The view began rushing at an embankment, and passing through an illusionary wall. "This is a lair, Ranarak, such as you have encountered in the past. You will travel here, and destroy it. And...." The elder paused, "You will bring us a certain amulet that we wish to observe. It holds the image of three serpents."
Rannis nodded, again, for the task seemed simple enough. Already, he planned the approach he would use to enter. "I will, Great One."
"Good." Said the voice. "Charit of the 2nd. You will stay. I have another task for you. Ranarak of the 3rd, and LoreMistress of Earth, candidate, you may leave."
The portal once again swished open behind them...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She didn't feel reassured, and immediately she thought of the twins, which Charit assured her would be safe from future attacks from Death, in the Realm. She watched him, noticing how the tip of his tail began to glow as he prepared a spell of some kind. And she tensed, ready to follow his lead. The ball of energy flashed from his tail and exploded dead center of the room, demolishing one of the beings where it stood, bits of bloody leathery flesh flying about.
LoreMistress snarled and dashed out, leaping for the throat of another even as the effect of their surprise set in. Rannis crouched, then bolted forward into another of the creatures, dodging past the claws of another, and slashing at exposed stomach. He whipped around, and vanished in a flash of scattering white lights, reforming a short distance away, his tail already beginning to glow. Another bolt of energy blasted towards a daemon's back, severing it into two neat pieces. A sharp pain in his side, and he whirled around, blood dripping off the claws of the one that attacked him. He growled menacingly, and pounced, knocking the being to the ground, and tearing at his throat even as claws dug again into either side. They relaxed moments later as this creature's life ended.
Lore fended off the creatures, who stood in a circle around her, taking turns lunging in to attack. She whipped around, narrowly avoiding a set of curved talons. Ranarak rushed through the room towards the treasure pile, jaws snatching the chain of the amulet off the top. He sent her a shout mentally, **Now!**
She whispered the word which triggered the spell he had lain upon her at their first arrival onto this word.. and at once she was whisked from the circle of daemons, back to the beacon point near their drop point.
Rannis grinned through the chain, knowing that she'd be safe. The creatures turned towards him, sadistic sneers and triumphant grins wearing away at their lips as they approached this easy prey.
He grinned broader as they got closer, then casually flipped his tail from behind him, the tip glowing a bright orange. "Hey. Anyone for a weenie roast?"
The tail flared up, and a bright orb of light shot into the center of the room and remained hovering in their midst. The creatures looked at it scowling, from him to the now pulsating orb, which pulsated faster by the moment.
Rannis winked as a look of utter dawning shone upon them and they scrambled towards the exit. He flicked his tail again, and disappeared into his usual shattering cloud of sparks even as the orb diminished into a point as small as a pin.. and then expanded outwards in a violent explosion.
The ground shook as the nearly megaton explosion underground rocked through the forest. A billowing pillar of nuclear flame shot out of the entrance like an orange pillar, blazing through the trees. The cave collapsed inwards, burying the remains within, and the ground became silent.. motionless.
The two panthers stood watching the sight of the pillar from the rise just a little above the forest. They nodded in satisfaction, and then turned, forms flickering, and then breaking apart into a scattering flash of lights as they disappeared....
E-mail comments and/or corrections to Diana/Wenn & Co