Date: Sun, 23 Nov 1997 06:54:18
From: Rob/Thorak/Sgian/Tien/etc
Thorak awoke slowly, the light spilling through the boards in the wall piercing the thin flesh of his eyelids. Grimacing in pain, and the sore ache of the muscles, he knew he had been asleep a long time. Placing a hand upon the ground he attempts to raise himself from the ground, the strength of his muscle thewed dwarvish arms gone. Slumping back down, he licks his dry lips and peers around, his eyes adjusting slowly to the light. A dull throb of pain running through his head as the pain seeps in through his eyes.
"Mmmm...'ow did I get...ohh..now I remember...darn foolish dwarven brain!"
Rolling onto his stomach he slowly rises to his feet, finding the strength to rise after a few moments of blissful rest. Slowly tumbling towards the door, carefully watching his feet, his eyes focused one moment. Then the world is a blur the next. His strength slowly regaining with movement.
Stepping out into the street, he groans as the light hits his senses fully. His eyes narrowing and peering around as best they can, "Hmmph...getting old. I'll probably need spectacles after this one." Shaking his head he turns to a rain barrel and climbs up the side. Bent over the edge he gently splashes the water in his face and smiles, his beard accentuating the jovial look he conveys, as he stares into his reflection in the water.
Hopping down he raises his arms over head and stretches them out, eyes closing in bliss as he hears the usual cracks and pops of various joints. His other senses, no better in actuality than his deteriorated eyesight, his smile turns into a frown, as he does not hear what he expected to.
Turning quickly, where might be a usual marketplace, is barren. No sounds of vendors plying their trade. No scents of exotic spices from far off lands, or the sweet smell of metallic craft that his dwarven nose became so sensitive to. Scratching his head he firmly plants his hands on his hips and looks around, "Maybe I'm dead..." and remembering his earlier pains he shakes his head.
"No I'm nae dead, the dead dinnae feel pain. I think..." He didn't know how wrong he was.
Frowning he walked down the barren street. Seeing nothing, hearing nothing, the proud castle standing on the hill, its colors flying brightly in the morning sun. "Hmmm....Camelot, she's still there", as he combed stubby fingers through a tangled beard. "tis a troubled time indeed I fear...an I 'ate when I talk t' m'self!" Stalking off with determined steps, on short legs, he heard cries in the distance.
Pumping the short legs as fast as he could, he raced towards the sound. Seeing a strange old man screaming out words of damnation and repentance. The old man, armed with a staff and a wooden plaque on his chest reading 'Doom is at Hand', regarded the Dwarf curiously.
"You there sir! Repent now and maybe your soul will be save!", he boomed out. Pumping his hands furiously in the air.
"Errr...nae", replied Thorak coolly, regarding the crazy old coot with obvious skepticism. "All I wan'...is fer you t' tell me wha's goin on old man!"
"The End is at hand my Dwarven friend! The end is at hand! The darkness is sweeping over the land! Doom! Doom! Doom!"
"ehhh...you been dippin int' the egg nog 'aven't ya? Tell me old one. Where is everyone? I've seen 'ide nor 'air of anyone 'round 'ere.", gently stroking the strands of his beard, finally noting the braids missing.
"City meeting!" gently rattling his staff he smiles toothily "They wouldn't let me in for some strange reason." Smiling he started off booming, once again in full dramaticism, "I must spread the word! The doom is at hand!"
Thorak just blinked wide eyes at the old man and turned slowly "'e's insane." Balling his fists, he walks with purpose and determination towards the castle, not caring about his appearance, the bruises, cuts, burns and dirt covering his small form, not the biggest worry in his brain.
Before reaching the castle, he could have sworn he heard hushed whispers spoken in a side alley. Gently tapping his head with his palm, he began to continue before hearing it again. He froze upon the spot and inched towards the whispers listening to the conversation in the shadows, hearing broken words such as, "shades... lights... ashes... dying dead..." Dying dead? What could this mean? Shaking his head softly he continued on towards the castle.
After many moments he mounted the steps to the firehall, smiling wryly at the uneasy glances of the guards near the portcullis, as he strode boldly through the main entrance. With a soft sigh he continued up the steps, and with a sudden jerk...doubled over, his body falling forward heavily, forehead smashing against the edge of a step. Bile rushing from his throat, and pouring out over his lips. Cascading slowly down the steps of the firehall.
His forehead started to bleed after he had wiped his mouth of the bile. The blood slowly mixing and swirling with the bile upon the steps. His eyes wide with fear, for he had no clue as to why this was happening. His mind searched for some reason...some clue...some...a bright flash as he stared into the blood on the steps.
A hearth in a rock home, carved of a mountain. A young dwarf. Husky, with shining eyes, and dark black hair. Pacing in front of the fire, small droplets of sweat running down his forehead, hands clasped tightly behind his back. His eyes sharpened as the sounds of feet came nearer, and he glanced up to the door as a strange dwarven woman entered in tears.
"Mother?", the young dwarf inquired, his word speaking of another question.
The woman shook her head "'e's been throwin up bile an' blood son. 'e's on th' last stretch. ya best see 'im...'e'll not 'ave til the end of the day" Nodding his head slowly the young dwarf turned to the flames, and gazed into them. Then turning away again, he exited the room.
His face contorted in pain at the sensations, his eyes suddenly seemed to regain their consciousness. Trembling with more than a little fear he glanced up the steps to the firehall doors. "I'm dyin... I've not got much life left in me.. so I must act quickly...I'll join you soon my hearth..."
((Hope it was enjoyed))
Date: Fri, 24 Oct 1997 06:48:22 -0400
From: Suk-Yin Lai/Sulieka...
Shadows and light. Shadows. Light. Shadows and light. The flicker of lines and form, barely noticed as Suleika Khalil al'Haj slips thru the streets of Camelot, immersing herself in the comforting darkness of the shadows. It is perhaps the only comfort she has had since that fateful meeting with the gypsy woman Shanaya.
Memories, so unwelcome yet so hard to get forget, push their way to the surface of Suleika's tortured mind. Curses, recriminations...flashes of threats and anger. Constant accursed accusations of the tainted blood of a terrible forced conception; a violation between father and daughter that made her shunned for life.
Since childhood it has always been so. So much easier to embrace the madness and its comfort. So much easier to kill than to love. Suleika slips behind a building and flattens herself out against it, her eyes dark with the pain of her tortured memories. A killer at 9 years of age, abused till she could barely stand it anymore....after so many years she can still remember the blood on her knife, standing and looking around at her dead family, realizing the perverse pleasure that it brought...and so began her dark journey into the madness that now takes her at dawn every day.
Suleika gazes out at the quiet street, noting she's in a deserted part of town. It is raining softly, and the ground is muddy and wet. As the rain patters softly onto her skin, she quietly loosens her cloak and hood and stands, letting the rain wash over her, wetting her clothes and her hair. For a moment, the diamond hard eyes are soft and she looks very noble and very very beautiful, the cruelty and hardness gone for just a while. Hair blowing in the gusty wind, her angular features streaked with rain.
Suddenly her ears prick up and her eyes become alert. In an instant, she changes from a relaxed, rather wistful young woman to a tense killing machine. She listens intently, then a frown crosses her face as she strains her ears to hear above the sound of the rain.
Moaning. Yes, it is indeed moaning of one in pain. Suleika glides forward, her face impassive, tracing the sound. Her high laced boots make no sound as she inches forward, head turning slowly to catch her directions.
Rounding a corner, Suleika stops, drawing in a breath as she sees a prone figure on the ground. As she gets closer, she sees that it is a dwarf; in fact she remembers him vaguely from the firehall in Camelot. Blood stains his lips and beard, spattering his chest and he appears to be in great pain, moaning in his unconscious state.
Suleika looks at him for a long moment, her eyes betraying for the first time, the turmoil raging inside her. The madness whispers to her, telling her to end his obvious pain and kill him...but Shanaya's words have stirred something deep inside and the keris is slow to be drawn to hand.
Suddenly Suleika stabs down with the keris, but before she can kill the helpless dwarf, a low animal sob breaks from her throat and she flings the keris onto the ground. Then she kneels down and with her cloak, wipes the blood from his face and lifts him into her strong arms, then disappears into the shadows again...the first act of kindness she has ever done in all her tortured life.
Date: Mon, 24 Nov 1997 07:08:58 -0600
From: Diana/Wenn & Co
Lucifer looked out to the armies and took a deep breath and mumbled, "I sure hate to be the person to do the paper work on this one."
((you don't have to include this little bit.. but I couldn't resist -Di/Wenn-))
Wenndolyne paces before the hearth in the great hall of Wolf Keep with many concerns over the gathering of forces, Wolf's whereabouts and safety, Simon's strange dreams, and the restless child yet unborn... so much to think over, so much to worry her and yet... she is trying to remain calm.
The Chamberlain approaches Wenn and clears his throat rather loudly to get her attention. She has not heard him call to her three times already. Wenn looks at him finally, a little startled. "Oh... yes, Arin?" He blushes a bit at her use of his given name "M'Lady... I thought I should check with you concerning a delivery that awaits even now in the courtyard."
"A delivery? What is it? Have them bring it in."
"M'Lady it's... well... mayhaps you should see for yourself."
Wenn furrows her brow a little. The Chamberlain is usually so adept at handling these things, she cannot imagine why he feels the need to concern her with a single delivery. He knows she is already distraught. She waddles after him toward the courtyard but stops abruptly as soon as she sees the horse drawn cart sitting there. Chamberlain stops as well and steps back a pace to stand beside her. Both of them are staring at the cart, a wooden flatbed on strained wheels, carrying what appears to be a dozen or so wooden boxes, all looking to be about one foot square by one foot high.
"Oh mercy... whatever it is... there is much of it!" Wenn comments, crossing her arms then curling one hand up beneath her chin to fathom what it could be.
"Aye, M'Lady" says the Chamberlain, very quietly.
"Something tells me you know what it is, Chamberlain" she says his title very pointedly "but you are reluctant to tell of it"
"Aye, M'Lady"
"Arin... what IS it?"
The Chamberlain hesitates and Wenn looks at him though he continues to stare ahead at the cart of boxes, not wanting to meet her eyes. He swallows and then answers her quietly, "Parchment, M'Lady... parchment forms"
"Good Heavens! All of that is parchment? Whatever for?!" Then suddenly it dawns on her. She shakes her head and looks back to the cart then with a sigh continues "Have them stack the boxes in the library please, Chamberlain."
She assesses the sheer volume of the cart's contents again. "And please see that you have a courier ready to go out in a few moments. I have a short missive to draft to M'Lord Wolf... I suspect he thinks he has found a way to keep me away from the battlefield by handing me a pen rather than a sword."
Wenn waddles with a more determined step back toward the Keep. The Chamberlain resists the temptation to comment on pen vs sword as he suspects the Lady of Wolf Keep is not in the mood for levity just now. He shakes his head and smiles to himself though, as he proceeds to the cart. To the driver he comments with a smile "This is indeed the correct place for the paperwork, sir. Allow me to direct you to the library."
Date: Sat, 22 Nov 1997 12:11:31
From: Stacy/Jolieve
Lady Jolieve De Bretagne awoke from a deep sleep. Something just seemed wrong. A few moments later, a messenger, wearing her father's colors, entered the fire hall demanding to see her immediately. She got dressed and quickly tied her hair back in a ribbon as she rushed out to the hall to stop the guards from bickering with the poor fellow. Once the guards backed off, the young man got down on one knee before her. "My lady, your father sends me to bring you back to Bretagne. The winter has come early and has killed off most of the harvests. He needs you there with him." Jolieve nods reluctantly and returns to her chambers to pack her things for the trip home.
When she finally emerges, several hours later, the hall is alive, the occupants of Camelot are all having breakfast and chatting amongst themselves. Heads turned as she entered, dressed in her traveling garb, and one pair of eyes in particular rested upon her. The gentleman stood, looked at Jolieve, then walked to her side.
"Jolie, where are you going?" Cmdr_Ariandis, looked at his love with curiosity.
"Ari, it is necessary that I go home, the harvests have been wiped out by the early coming of winter. I must go aid my father in his time of need" She hung her head a bit, not truly wishing to leave, but knew that it was her duty to do so.
Ariandis leaned over and kissed her cheek gently, then whispered in her ear, "I shall anxiously await your return, my love."
Jolieve returned Ari's sentiments, then hugged all of her friends and family and got in the carriage, for the long trip to the boat, and then across La Manche, to France.
Date: Mon, 24 Nov 1997 10:14:00 -0800
From: Joy/TheMorrigan/LadyElspeth/menagerie
((It's going to take me a few installments to get Morri and the Fates/Weavers to the battlefield scene...please bear with.))
TheMorrigan changed swiftly into her "working clothes", leather leggings and vest, concealing each of the small throwing knives that rested around her midriff and in her boots. She went to the chest on her dresser and opened it to reveal a row of crystal daggers nestled within its velvet confines. Cautiously she picked one up, holding it to the light and watching the swirl of acid within the hollow blade. This she slid down into its steel sheath just below the top of her vest, snug against her bosom. Finally she tied the leather sheath for her one visible dagger around her leg, placing the comforting weight of it on her thigh, then added her sword belt and rapier.
Obsidian, her familiar, sat perched on her vanity, watching her with his ice blue feline eyes as she stood before the mirror braiding her hair and securing it with a strip of leather. She glanced at him in vexation as she knotted the leather..."WHAT!"
"Well...you know, Morri....you aren't ON official business this time..."
She opened the closet, not really hearing him, automatically reaching in for her scythe...but then thought better of it. She was going to gather information. The knives and the rapier would have to do...as well as her other talents.
She closed the closet and turned to face him. He had grown, no longer the kitten given her by BlackHawke, and he was remarkably intelligent. He had even taught himself to speak, something she had never expected he would do. He'd learned that and a few OTHER bad habits, as well, from his rapt observance of Rannis.
"No...you KNOW you can't come along when I'm working." "This isn't official. You could get hurt, you might NEED my help. The wrinkled one SAID so. I heard her." "You were EAVESDROPPING???" What he said finally registered. "You KNOW I told you to stay out when I'm conducting business!" "Well...I was napping under the bed...couldn't exactly come sauntering out in the middle of your conversation..." She filed that information for future reference - ALWAYS check under the furniture before beginning a conference. Morri twisted her mouth in frustration, brow furrowed. "Aw, c'mon Morri, you NEVER let me have any fun. You're always dashing off to kill things and I'm left here, running from Raven and her grasping, tail-pulling, little grubby hands."
She sighed and reached out to scratch his head...squashing her instinct to protect him. He may look like a grown cat, but he was still very young. She thought, 'Well, he's going to learn about life SOME time, might as well be there when he does.'
"Poor kitty. Alright. You may come with me. But this is a COVERT operation. No theatrics, you stay silent. We're going out to gather whatever information we can."
Sid nodnodded (another of his Rannis mimics) before leaping down to the floor to twine himself, purring, between her ankles in feline ecstasy, peering up at her with adoring blue kitty eyes. He knew she could NEVER resist the adoring blue kitty eyes.
Morri looked down at him with fond irritation. "C'mon, let's go take our leave of the munchkin." She strode out of her room and down the hall to Raven's nursery, Sid trotting along behind. He waited outside the door, out of reach of little grasping fingers.
"Rave! Sweety, where are you?" At just that moment, a small, sun-browned body came hurtling in from the balcony, running as fast as her legs could carry her with a very frustrated looking nanny hot on her heels, carrying what appeared to be Raven's discarded clothing.
Morri pressed her lips together, trying to suppress her amusement and look stern. "Daughter, have we talked about stripping our clothes off in the middle of the day?"
Raven skidded to a halt before her mother's tall frame and craned her head back to grin up at her, wisps of black hair falling out of her twinkling amber eyes. "Yes, Momma. But I don' YIKE those cyothes!"
Morri raised her eyes to the ceiling and took a deep breath before kneeling before her daughter. "Sometimes...we have to do things we don't like. As I must right now. Come give me a hug, elf-child, Mummy has to go for a while."
Raven stepped forward and leaped onto her mother, arms wrapped around her neck, legs clinging around her middle. "NO! You STAY!" Morri stood, hugging her daughter close and stroking her hair. "I wish I could, love, I wish I could." She slowly disentangled Raven from her clutching embrace to look into her face. "BUT! I will be back. I will always come back to you." She kissed her daughter's cheek and gently set her to the floor. "AND...if you put on your clothes, I'd be willing to bet Nanny would take you down to the kitchen for a cookie and some milk."
Raven immediately turned to her nanny, a picture of sweetness and cooperation, "Can I put my cyothes on now, pyease?" Morri smiled softly, "Goodbye my sweet." She turned and strode for the door, followed by echoes of..."Bye Momma....NO! NO!....*I* wiw put it on!"
As she crossed the threshold of the room her expression darkened. She jerked her head to Sid and swiftly trotted down the hall, down the stairs, out the front door, across the massive lawn before the manor and into the trees at the edge of the wood. Sid followed silently, knowing better than to attempt amusing banter after Morri's had to leave her child again.
When they reached the cover of the trees, Morri stopped. She looked at Sid as she melted into the form of the Huntress, a large SilverWolf. She sat on her haunches, regarding Sid with her blazing amber eyes.
::You might want to switch to panther. Can you do that?::
"Yeah, I've been practicing. I don't have to be scared anymore, and you don't have to be in danger anymore. I can just do it." He spoke casually as his form shifted and grew. By the time he was finished speaking, SilverWolf found herself staring into the ice blue eyes of a medium sized black panther.
::I'm impressed. Come. We go.:: With that, she turned and loped off into the trees, headed for the precinct of Camelot. Sid bounded after her, easily matching her stride. They were on the hunt.
Date: Mon, 24 Nov 1997 21:23:33 EST
From: Rob/Thorak/Sgian/Tien/etc
Slowly rubbing his chin, in thought. The silent figure watches from the shadows. Saying nothing, feeling nothing. His eyes reflect the flash of weapons and armor. Dark figures behind him bicker and complain, murmuring quietly amongst themselves.
Not usually in the company of his own kind, the dark figure grits his teeth at the incessant chattering. The vague thoughts flying from each of the other dark ones. "Hmmm...impressive, but not enough", whispered the Dark Figure, who appeared to be the leader of this group.
"Look!", hissed another figure, pointing towards a shining figure on a winged steed descending from the clouds with a massed amount of figures with wings. "Angels my friends...do not fear", replied the dark leader. The others looked skeptical at the dark leader.
The leader counted the numbers quickly with strange eyes. "Hmmm...this might just do it, who knows though", he stated whilst shrugging his shoulders.
"How long must we stay out here under our enemy!" blurted the agitant dark one, who had pointed out the angels.
Sighing softly the leader spoke calm words, "we will retreat to the ground soon enough, do not let the sun bother you so, young one. You get used to it after awhile. Even with the risks."
A calm tall figure broke through the group in a melodic voice "The council gathers this eve, we should rest now leader, we need our strength for the journey." Nodding slowly the leader turned away from the sight of the growing army and smirked at the dark group, "Let us hurry to the cave."
Upon reaching the cave the group descended into the depths of it. Each member of the group slide into a niche within the wall, the leader laying at the base of a wall and closing his eyes, the darkness and the dreams of blood and carnage descending upon him, like a veil of stars does the night sky.
The dark leader awoke with a start, wiping his brow casually of the blood sweat which had formed upon it. Silently rising, and dusting his old clothes off, he looks towards the group that still sleeps and shakes an irritated head. "Get up you lazy louts", hissing this, he kicks the wall, and it proceeds to shake somewhat as though threatening to collapse.
Startled each member of the dark group quickly hop out of their respective niches, giving the leader glares of nothing less than hatred. "Do we at least get to feed before we leave?!", inquired the young one from before. His face twisting in disgust, as he never enjoyed that part of his nature, the leader shook his head spitting out, "We only have time to go to the meeting and come back. Now...lets get going"
The young ones lips turned into a sickly smile at the leaders reaction, his mind screaming out protests against the denial of feeding, but his pleasure at the leaders reaction more than makes up for it.
The group ascends the levels of the cave, out into the cool night air, not hearing anything, except the wind. Quickly ascending into the night air, a few dark ones holding onto others, the group flies off to the north quickly becoming fading into the night sky without a second thought, heading north, into Scotland.
Upon reaching the country side the group descends into an ancient graveyard. On a normal day, perhaps the graveyard would be empty, devoid of life and all movement. On this day however. Hundreds of these dark figures bustle among it, the horrid soothing whispers of their voices heard from far away. Talking amongst each other. All gathered in a great circle in the graveyard, measuring over a 1000 individuals.
The group lands in the center, all but the leader of this group shuffles off to into the crowd. And he, himself bows down upon one knee, his head lowered in homage to the 3 individuals with Platinum chains about their necks, standing at the head of one arc of the circle. "I am here as you summoned m'lords. I do not know why you have summoned me, but I see amongst the lands that perhaps it would have become necessary eventually. Thank you for inviting me, and please accept my homage and respect, which is gladly given to each of you.", he stated.
Slowly he began to rise and head for the growing crowd. "Do not go just yet.", spoke the eldest of the three, a pair of glasses upon the tip of his nose, his shaggy snow white hair, spilling out over his shoulders. "You have realized what has gone on, long before any of our scouts confirmed it. You are a good informant in that regard."
The Dark leader looked stunned, his mouth gaping at these words, form frozen upon the spot as he meets the eyes of the eldest with a bewildered gaze.
"Do not be frightened. I am so old that I can sense what you are thinking strange one. Even though I may be thousands of miles away.", spoken with a pompous grin. "Age does have its rewards in many respects. You are one among a few who fraternizes amongst the mortals. So your powers eventually grow differently. As all things are different with change. So tell us...what you know. Strange one.", ordered the old one, in a voice casual, yet with authority.
"Yes M'Lord.", retorted the dark leader. "Plague sweeps the lands, as does Famine in France, War is nearby, And Death as well. This place, this grand island, and some of the surrounding areas. Seem to be the gathering place for these evil things."
"Good strange one...good. Now tell us your analysis of the situation, how you think it affects us. And what may happen."
"Sir, I hardly see why *I* should be convey-"
"JUST SPEAK STRANGE ONE!", boomed the loud voice, with which the whole assemblies hands moved to their ears, a few grave stones shattering with the ferocity of his voice.
"Yes M'Lord. We are not affected by the plagues of famine, nor are we truly affected by the death. For we are already in this state. The only one that threatens us truly, is the rising wars that occur. Eventually it will come to us and we will die. As Kindred. Our greatest enemy is each other. And a great war amongst our people caused by this outer force, would be horrific.", he bowed his head again, the knowledge of what else to say fleeing his mind.
"Very good young one. You may go. Now All...we must decide. At this council of we...the kindred. Whether we should involve ourselves in this battle which rages, and perhaps help humanity in the process. Let the discussion begin!", the elder gestured with a wave of his arm, men beginning to enter into the middle of the circle to state their opinions.
The Dark leader did as he was commanded and faded into the crowd, his brown eyes shifting to crimson with his brethren. His arms folding across his chest he gazes among the assembly knowing that this would be a long night indeed. And questions his own role amongst this whole experience. And with those thoughts, the discussion continues into the night, echoing into the nearby hills.
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