Date: Friday, December 12, 1997 5:57 PM
From: Daniel/LordWolf & Co
A dark body of arms, paws and fur moving across the land under the protective covering of night. The Pack was on the move once again, lead by the arctic white wolf. After the brief encounter with the Mother, Lord Wolf knew what was expected of him. Though how he was to complete this task was beyond him at the moment. Quietus! The very name left a bitter taste in his mouth. Yet here he was leading the Pack, to the Dark Wolf's very door step. To make an alliance with his evil brother. Still, if it was what the Mother wanted then he would try to do it as best he could.
Mother. Why had she chosen to make herself known after all this time. He was one of the few of her children that yet survived and she chose to come to him and his loved ones for this task. The Mother was a being of enormous energy. Those of this world knew only as the magical energy with which spell were created from. Her protective weave and strands of energy that crisscrossed this planet were all they knew of her. Most did not even know that she was alive in any sense of the word. A traveler she was of the byways of the region of space. Long ago she had come to this world and adopted it as her own. In it she had found a promise for beauty and goodness that were to come and so she had stayed.
The Mother gave of herself and created her children from her very energy and empowered them with free will, thought and the ability to create. They themselves were being of energy and hence had the ability to tap into her at will, Receiving from her what energy they required. Shape Shifting was one of their laser skills. Long ago the Mothers children had rebelled as children will often do and hence she had once more given of herself and created the Powers that Be.
With the coming of the Gods to this world, she quietly stepped aside as guardian and yet she remained to watch over her chosen children. With the coming of the new races, her children mingled with them and soon became a part of them. Their lineage diluted over the years as it mixed with the blood of the other races. Only a few remained apart from this. Those that joined with the races, after time found themselves limited as well. Many chose to pass away as those who they loved died and were gone. A handful of her children yet remained true to her and in possession of their full powers. These children of pure blood lines stayed mostly to themselves. Lord Wolf was the only one that associated with the races of this time period. Quietus DarkWolf also of the House of Wolf did so as well but more to engineer the down fall of his brother than anything else. So the Pack moved on, drawing ever closer to Dark Wolf Keep.
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Quietus DarkWolf sat within the great hall of DarkWolf Keep, his eyes gazing upon the still surface of the basin of water which sat before him. Just past the basin, upon the table top lay the great sword of Lancelot. Its silver polished surface reflecting back the candle light. Quietus's brow were knitted in concentration as he focused his spell upon the water and view the happenings of the world about him.
"All this murder and mayhem, and I control none of it! The four Horsemen are about and unless I am wrong, the fifth seal has been broken as well." For long moments more he watched as War was momentarily waylaid by a strange character for a day. Pestilence, wiped out a Dwarvin kingdom with a foul sickness. Famine destroyed crops at will. Death, he followed after and cleaned up the surviving souls that remained, as well as collecting his own personal harvest. A black shadowy figure mean while busied itself with the killing of the holy. In short, the world was coming to an end and he played no part in it. In anger he reaches out and knocks the bowl from the table, sending it clattering across the cold cobble floor of the hall.
The bowl comes to rest some distance from him and then slowly starts to glow with a soft white light. Quietus watches for a moment then calls up what defenses he can, not knowing what the cause of the light may be. The soft light grows in size and expands, taking on the shape of a women who's age it neither young or old. The Dark Wolf stares in disbelief at the sight of her as memories of a time so long ago that it is hard even for him to remember.
"Dear Child, why do you look so shocked," the Lady inquires. "Did you think me gone, nothing more than a faded memory?"
"Mother?" Quietus swallows hard and rises quickly. "Is that really you?"
"Come my child of darkness. Come here and feel what your eyes tell you," replies the lady.
"NO! It can not be! You are gone. No more than a magical essence here any more." Beads of perspiration start form on his brow. "This is a trick of some kind. A spell sent by my brother to fool me."
For a moment the Lady stops and regards him. "You have the Way. See for yourself that I am no mere spell, Child." A soft smile touches her timeless features. "But I know that dep inside you already know that what you see is real. Do you not?"
"Then he has sent you to destroy me. He lies! I have done no wrong, Mother. It is he that has done wrong and has attempted to destroy me and all I have worked for. You must believe me!"
"Foolish Child," she softly chuckles. "Neither of you have done wrong or right. Do you not see that you each balance the other? One of light and one of darkness. You are both what I created you to be, my Child." On noiseless feet she moves forward towards him. Quietus, unable to move watches her approach as his mind desperately seeks an escape.
But then why have you come? For so long you have been gone." A pain begins in his chest, one filled with longing, with a need for love and acceptance from this being who gave him life. Yet equal feelings of abandonment and betrayal war with the need for love and understanding.
The Mother's eyes soften and a sadness touches them as she regards him, close enough now to touch him. "Child I have not been gone. I have been here all along. It is you who have not looked for me, who have turned from me." Quickly she steps forward and closes the distance between them as she slips her arms around him.
Quietus' body stiffens at her touch. The soft light surrounds the two of them and he know that light to be her love for him. With a strangled sob of "Mother!" his arms wrap themselves about her as he desperately clings to her, tears of pain and sorrow falling from his eyes and onto her shoulder.
"Hush Child. I am here with you, for you. I have always been here with you and you have always been within my heart, Dear One.." For long moments his body is rocked by sobs as he holds her to him. Finally she moves slightly away from him so that she may see his face. With one hand she reaches up and gently wipes tears from his youthful face. "Dear Child, I am proud of you and your brother. You each serve your purpose and I love both of you for that. The balance has to be maintained and you have done so through all the time that has passed. Yet, I will need your help now."
Quietus sniffles softly into the silence that follows her statement. "My help?" A puzzled look crosses his face.
"Aye. Someone or something has thrown the balance way out of alignment and I need your help in restoring it," the Mother informs him. "You and your brother must work together on this."
"Work with Wolf? You do not know what you ask, Mother! He would sooner see me dead than work with me on anything. Besides, what will be in it for me?" An eyebrow arches in question.
"He will work with you on this, for I have already spoken to him about it. Even as we speak, he and his Pack draw close to here and should be here within the hour as you reckon time." Quietus' brow darkens at this news. "Heed me well my Child. You must put aside all grievances with your brother for the duration of this and work together as you never have before. Or all is lost."
"Must I work with him? Can I not do it on my own?" The prospect of having to help his brother being so repulsive to him as to almost cause him to be sick.
"No. This must be done by the both of you," she replies. "Someone has found the book of Life created by the One God. If they should succeed in opening it, they will have unlimited power. If that power is released, everything of this world will be destroyed. This can not be allowed to happen."
"Everything will be destroyed?" The Dark Wolf begins to form a plan in the back of his mind.
The Mother stares at him for a long moment and tilts her head to one side in a very human like fashion. "Forget it! Don't even think about if, Child!"
"What?" He asks calmly.
"You are to work with him, not plot on how to kill him. Listen closely for I will not tell you again. If the Book of Life is opened, I to will be destroyed and with me, so will you." She pauses for a moment to let her words sink in. "I see now you understand what I mean. It is utmost importance that you aid one another in this, Child. Do I make myself clear?"
Quietus nods once and quickly forgets the plan he had begun to form. "Yes, Mother." The Mother smiles softly once more, her light surrounding him in her loving warmth once again as she tells him of the task ahead, before fading away.
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Wolf leads the Pack down through a ravine and out again as it opens onto a large valley hidden away in the northern mountain chain they had been working their way through since dawn. In the middle of the valley as large black Keep stands, Wolf smirks to himself as he sees the Keep, recognizing it for an exact duplicate of Wolf Keep, his home. Slowly he begins working his way down into the valley with the Pack following behind him. Upon reaching the gates to the Keep he is not surprised to see them open. Quickly he transforms back to Lord Wolf and with a silent command tells the Pack to remain without while he enters to talk with his brother.
Quietly he climbs the stairs to the main doors and lightly pushes on them. The doors swing open without a sound to reveal the anti chamber before the great hall. Wolf crossed the room to the doors to the hall, his heels echoing loudly within the empty keep. Opening the door before him he enters the hall again smiling at the way his brother has duplicated the Keep in almost every detail. Where Wolf Keep is bright and warm, filled with the love of good friends and the echo of laughter, this keep is dark and silent, a reminder of who's home it truly is.
At the far end of the great table a figure sits, dressed all in black with a soft smile upon his face. "Brother. So nice of you to finally visit," Quietus says upon seeing Wolf enter.
Wolf nods slightly, moving down the length of the table towards his darker twin. "Good to see you still are polite after all this time, Quietus. I had thought that after living alone for so long you may have forgotten your manners."
"Nay, such things as those are breed into you. They are as much a part of living as breathing is. I hope your lady wife fare well. How is the child? I think she is due soon is she not?" His smile widens into a grin.
"That is none of your business, Q as you well know." Worries of Wenn and the baby, plaque upon his mind already as well as to how Simon fares and the others that are far away. He knows that he must be away from her and yet there is not a moment that passes where he does not think of her and his family. "I assume you know why I am here?"
"Yes, Mother was kind enough to pay me a visit." The last said with an ironic smirk.
"Then you know what must be done? Have you any thoughts on the subject," inquires Wolf, wanting to get right to the task at hand so that it can be completed as soon as possible.
"Yes I know and I do have some thoughts on the matter. But I think they would be best shared with the others do you not? No sense in repeating them several times I would think,: replies the Dark Wolf.
For a moment Wolf pauses, and debates on discussing it now or with the others then shrugs slightly. "Have it your way then. Are you ready to leave? It is a long run back to Camelot."
"I am as ready as I shall ever be, Brother. It shall be interesting to see how the others take my presence in Camelot. It wouldn't do to have them all attack me upon site now would it?" Softly he chuckles at that thought.
"I will personally guarantee your safety. You have my word as a Knight of the Round Table!" Wolf meets Quietus' eyes, half daring him to challenge his given word.
"Very well. Let us hope that your word and standing among them will be enough to hold them off, Brother." Together the two of them slip from the hall and back out the doors to the waiting Pack. Almost as one the two shift forms, one to that of a white arctic wolf. The other to that of a black dire wolf. "It will be good to run with the Pack once more as of old, Brother." Wolf refrains from a reply as the two of them lead the Pack out and head for Camelot and the waiting Host of Light.
Date: Fri, 12 Dec 1997 16:00:03 PST
From: Daniel/LordWolf & Co
In Northern England, a large detachment of Calvary, under the leadership of Sir Poet, turns their tired horse back to the roadway, kicking up dust as they leave yet another town that has been wiped out. The Captain rides to the front and salutes Poet crisply, "Sir aren't we going to stay and bury the dead?"
Sir Poet looks to the Captain, not bothering to return the salute. "No, we have better things to do at the moment, Captain."
"Sir, if I may object. They deserve to be buried and the last rights given. It is the descent thing to do, by God!" The man could not believe that they had been ordered to leave the bodies laying where they had found them. They had not even been allowed to enter the town, only Poet had done so.
"Captain," Poet sighs and counts to ten. "They are dead and will not know the difference."
"How can you be so cold, damn it," spits the man at his words
Poet reigns in his horse, the Captain following his lead as the others ride past knowing the two will catch up in a bit. "I am in charge here Captain! I would strongly suggest that you remember that and do not question my orders in front of the men!"
"But," stammers the man
"No buts!" His temper finally snapping. "They were killed by plaque! Do you want all of our men to suffer the same fate as them! Good God man! Would you have us dig our own graves as well as theirs?"
"I didn't know," comes the reply at the heated words from Poet.
Poet sighs and hangs his head. "I am sorry, captain. I had no right to yell at you like that. I guess all this death is getting to me. You didn't know because I didn't tell you. Tis my fault and I am sorry for it."
The Captain nods once, accepting the apology. "I understand Sir. Tis getting to even the old veterans as well from what I have seen." The Captains eyes suddenly widen. "But Sir, you went among them you could be infected with the plaque!"
Poet looks up, his eyes hollow, dark circle hang heavy under them from lack of sleep. "No I have protection of sorts, my friend." Poet quickly changes the subject. "Now let us catch up to the others before they take a wrong turn or something.""
The Captain smiles slightly at his words and nods accepting the fact that this man does indeed have some sort of protection. The Captain knows that if Sir Poet did not know what he was doing he would never of been placed in command. The two whistle and their mount leap forward to catch up with the distant column of their unit.
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The Necromancer rises, feeling neither tired nor hungry after his last bit of spell casting when once more he feels a presence. "All goes as planned I see?"
Without turning to look, for he knows he will only see a shimmering in the air that is the form of the presence he replies, "Aye. I have started the gathering of the Hosts of Darkness. With each new death they shall grow stronger. The Demons fight on our side in the hopes of finally destroying the Angels and their Heavenly home. The life force of the shades still arrive as the Four continue their work and hence my powers increase."
"That is well. All is going according to plan then. What of the fifth," inquires the presence.
"It too is about," offers the Necromancer. "The holy are becoming Martyrs as it was preordained by the scripture of the One God."
"Good. Very Good! If all continues this way you shall have that which you seek before the year is out." The presence shifts as the Necromancer almost detects amusements in the presence's words.
"We will both have that which we want, Lord of Chaos," he pauses and turns to face the shimmering essence. "..quicker than what was originally called for as well. What have you been busing yourself with might I ask?"
"Oh a bit of this and a bit of that, my friend. Nothing to worry yourself about. There are a great many things which require my special touch shall we say," replies the presence. The Necromancer nods once, not doubting the words spoken. "I shall leave you to your work then. If you have need of me, you know how to reach me." Again Necromancer nods and turns back to his work till he feels the presence is gone.
Softly he whispers to himself once he is alone again, "Do what you want, for I know longer care so long as that in the end, I will know the final rest of oblivion."
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On the material plane, in a Castle that is Camelot, Night Shade sits within the fire hall and watches those gathered here as they go about the endless preparations of war. Softly she thinks to herself, "All these people and yet, I am alone. Tis better that way less they suffer the fate of others have before them." For many days now a thought has been nagging at her. Seth. What had happened to her childhood friend. Some how she knew that all that was happening was his doing as the Necromancer. "Tis my fault," she quietly thinks within her mind. "If I had not killed him with my cursed touch none of this would have happened. So many have died and it is all my fault!" Suddenly the room seems to closed in. People passing seem to come to near her. Gathering her robes about her she quickly rises and slips out the garden door intent on getting away from the steady press of people as they hurry from one place to another.
The gardens of Camelot are beautiful and quiet. "Strange," she says without realizing she speaks out loud. "Strange how it seems that even in the midst of everything going on, nature still continues as if nothing is happening." Slowly she wanders down a path, picking one at random and not paying much attention to where her feet are leading her. Soft voice are heard ahead of her and slowly she moves forward and peeks around a bend in the path. A soldier by his uniform and a castle maid sit upon a bench with their arms wrapped around each other in a loving embrace. Soft words of endearment are spoken by both before their lips meet in a long lingering kiss. Pain of jealousy stab through Nightshade, for she longs so desperately for the touch of another. Tears spring to her eyes at the pain she feels as the cold claws of loneliness tighten about her chest. Quickly she turns and runs from the gardens to the service entrance of the castle and slips into the castle. In a short time and by means of seldom used corridors she makes her way to the front of the castle and out again.
Once upon the road her feet lead her down the road towards Wolf Keep. Once again she uses the back entrance and quietly slips to her room there. Closing the door behind her she throws herself upon her bed as tears once more spring forth at her hopeless situation. Softly she sobs into her pillow.."Seth oh Seth, what have I done to you. Where are you?" Silent sobs rack her body.
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Deep within the ShadowLands, the Necromancer looks up from his work as an echo of his name reaches his ear. "Sarah?" For long moments he sits and listens as he hears his name once more. Quickly he rises and moves from the shadow castle of Camelot. With a thought he is before the shadow form of Wolf Keep. Quickly he enters and makes his way through the halls and to the room of she that is known to all as Night Shade. "Sarah.." he says softly as he steps from the ShadowLands and into the room on the material plane.
Nightshade turns with a start at the soft whispering of her real name. Her eyes search the shadows of her room for a moment before he notices movement within one of those shadows. "Seth?"
The Necromancer regards her for a long moment before replying. "I see you still fight against what you are, Sarah."
"Seth what have you done? I know it is you that have caused all this death!" Her words hang in the air between them for a long silent moment. It a soft whisper she adds, "What have I done to you."
The Necromancer steps further into the room, detaching himself from the shadows. "I do not deny that the Four have been freed because of me. Unlike you, I can admit to what I have done, Sarah. My actions are my own and none of your doing."
"But..," she stammers. "If I had not killed you"
The Necromancer waves her words aside. "It matters not. What has happened is in the past. If you had not, something else would have I suspect. I am what I was meant to be, Sarah." He reaches out and gently lays one hand against her cheek. Night Shade shies away from his touch at first, her natural reaction to any to attempt to touch her. Then she leans her cheek into his cold touch.
"Oh Seth. I can not help but feel it is all my fault! I am evil. My curse kills. If it was not for me, you would yet live. No matter what you say, you can not know that you would have died another way." Her words tumble forth in a flood of tears which trickle down and run onto his cold albino hand.
"Sarah my poor, poor Sarah. You still fight to see yourself as evil. Something to be shunned and despised." He brings his other hand up to cup her other cheek, turning her head so that she must look into his red eyes. "You have been given a great gift. Your touch can heal as well a kill. You have saved many already. You lack confidence in yourself, my Sarah. You are a child, trapped within a woman's body and mind."
"I am evil!" Comes her quick reply as she jerks her head free and looks away into the shadows of the corner from which he came. "I have killed for no reason before save the money it brought."
Necromancer softly chuckles at her words. "Sarah, you are not evil. Many have killed to stay alive." He pauses again as a thought forms. "But if you wish to be evil, I can offer you that as well, my Sarah." Night Shade quickly looks back to him at his words. "If you think you deserve to be shunned and seen as evil and not worth living then I can make that a reality for you." In stunned silence she listens to his words, allowing them to filter through her mind. The Necromancer raises a hand forestalling her reply. "Do not answer me now. I will give you time to think about my offer. If you agree, you will return with me to my realm and you shall work with me and I will share everything I have with you." Slowly he leans down bringing his face to level with hers. "We will be together forever, my Sarah," he softly whispers to her, his breath warm against her face. Slowly he leans forward and brings his lips to her in a soft gentle kiss. Night Shade feels herself shiver at his touch, her eyes closing as she feels his lips against hers. Then the kiss is done and slowly she opens her eyes to find she is alone once more. Yet she has no doubt that Seth had really been there for she could still feel his touch upon her lips.
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Most of the men had retired for the night to the rooms they had secured at the Inn. The sounds of some of them could be heard from the Commons room as they played dice. "Let them have what fun they could," thought Poet to himself. "Lord knows they have had little opportunity for it of late." Sitting down upon his bed he quietly slips a folded bundle of parchment from his ever present satchel. Unfolding the paper his eye falls upon the graceful writing upon the page as he reads it again as he has every night since receiving it. The letters blur before him and yet he has read the letter from Xan so many times that he has in memorized already. Softly he sighs and closes the letter, placing it back in his satchel. "Oh dear Lady what would you think of me now I wonder?"
A soft voice touches his mind, "Beloved, she would think no less of you as you well know."
Sir Poet softly smiles at the intrusion into his thoughts. "I think I would have to disagree with you, M'lady." Poet rises and crosses to the harp case and upon opening it he lifts out the white harp known as "M'Lady".
"You may disagree all you want my dear Poet, but I am a lady or once was and I know about these things," comes the smug response. Poet moves back to the bed and sits down once again trying to hide the pain of his movements. A touch of concern flows down their link to him from the harp. "How are you dearest one?"
"I have been better." Poet smiles softly. "Your intervention has helped greatly, M'lady."
"I wish I could do more, Dear One." Frustration sounding in her words of reply. "I can only slow the process and guard others from you. It is beyond me to heal you I fear."
Poet nods mostly to himself. "I know, M'lady and I thank you for that aid. Tis more than I thought you would be able to do."
M'Lady remains silent as the moment stretches out. "Shall we begin, Beloved?"
"Yes" replies Poet as he slowly begins to unbutton his shirt. "I think I could use some of your music right now." The harp slowly begins to glow and a soft gently melody seeps from it taking on the form of a white mist. Poet opens his shirt revealing the yellowed puckered marks of his affliction. The mists slowly floats to him and wraps him within the light. Poets lays back and listens to the sweet music, losing himself to it. He knows that in the morning when he wakes, any sign of the leprosy he has will be gone from his skin. Yet he also know that by tomorrow night it will be back again. Each day it's hold on him grows stronger and soon a day would come when M'Lady's magic would not be strong enough to hide it. As he drift upon the notes that heal him his final thought before falling into the darkness is of Xan and that she is indeed better off without him.
Date: Sun, 14 Dec 1997 06:54:10 EST
From: Rob/Thorak/Sgian/Tien/etc
Thorak awoke with a startle as the morning sun shined brightly through the window panes. His gaze then turned to the bed. With a frown he rose noting no movement stirring there. Thinking the boy would have been up now, unless he was the pampered sort. As he approaches the bed, he notes that there is no form sleeping upon it. Just scattered and rustled sheets.
With a snarl he turns and grips the hilt of the blade, jerking it out of the ground swiftly and sheathing it in his belt. He then begins to stride as best as dwarven legs can. Storming down the hall, not worried about being heard, he stomps down the steps into the main hall. Spying around for the form of the small boy. Thorak smiles as he spots the boy sitting in a chair far too big for him. And very fanciful. Extensively carved.
His ears suddenly pick up the sound of a baby wailing. 'It must want its morning feeding' thought Thorak. He also heard the voice of a woman gently singing to the baby. His mind frantically searching. He sprints over to the boy. Picking up his form with ease and carrying him upon his shoulder as he runs out the door.
Running rapidly through the brush. Driven by adrenalin, hoping that no one saw him, and no chase will ensue. He continues through the brush. Protecting the boys body carefully, as his own face is slashed by various branches and thorns. He runs across a plain, and jumps over a stone wall not bothering to check if there was flat land over it.
Thorak slides down the dirt slope, not wanting to wake the boy he thrusts his hand into the dirt and eases their descent. Noting a stream nearby. He begins to clomp down it being careful not to lose his footing, but also trying to lose his scent as quickly as possible in the waterways.
Eventually following the waterways extensively, and even admitting that he is lost. He happens upon what would appear to be a hidden valley. And the waterways eventually trail off into a small waterfall, with a large pool of water at the base. Heading off to both sides of the stream he searches for a gentle slope so that he may descend as quickly as possible.
Reaching the valley floor, he heads towards the pool. Not having felt this energized in ages. "I'm probably going to be killed for this...but as long as he survives...and learns, then I'll have served my purpose.", spoken as though he were on a divine mission. Which he might just be. He then tosses the boys body to the valley floor gently, letting it land with a dull thud. And his mind clouds as he realizes what he is about to undertake.
A small boy, of a small race. Looking up into another small, bald headed warriors face. His face is bright with a smile, His two thickly braided beardlocks hang loose, and shake easily with the bald dwarfs laughter. "Look papa!" exclaims the young dwarf, as he executes various cuts and slashes with the blade. The bald dwarf chuckles and ruffles the young ones hair "Good son good...ehehh..now come. The Lord HearthGuard wants to see you. Come Thorak...its time to start your training" the father pats his son on the shoulder proudly. And walks off with him into the bright forge.
His head shakes suddenly, as if regaining consciousness. His arms fold over his chest. And he regards the young lad. Noting his shifting and groaning form. "Wake up boy. Wake up Simon Wolf. Its time to start your training.", and with that said. He procures the sword from his belt. And slides it into the ground with ease before the young boy. The task awaiting would sap not only him. But it would test the boys mettle. Proving him to be either a great hero, or just too young and pampered. So he stands and waits until the boy wakes. His beard accentuating the grim frown upon his features. The bushy lofted brow upon his face. Awaiting the hero to awaken...
E-mail comments and/or corrections to Diana/Wenn & Co