Date: Mon, 24 Nov 1997 14:34:19 -0800
From: Joy/TheMorrigan/LadyElspeth/menagerie
The large SilverWolf and the Obsidian panther emerged from the trees and turned down the road. The wolf stopped, lifting her nose a bit to scent the air.
::Smell that?::
"Huh?" The panther sat down and began licking a paw, like a common housecat. "Smell what?"
::Something, or someONE...no...MANY someones...have burned.:: The smell of burned flesh was unmistakable to her wolf's senses. The panther lifted his head and his nose twitched, then he sneezed with exaggerated disgust. "yeah. Got it now. Gross."
::Come:: The wolf bounded off down the road, turning at the fork that led to a small village nearby. Sid had to leap to catch up. The ran in silence quickly reaching the village, and slowed to a walk.
They padded down the empty street, noting the open doors to all the shops. The saw the open carts of the food vendors sitting untended, their once appetizing merchandise now a feast for flies.
The came to the site of what they'd smelled....A large building, razed to the ground, apparently with the entire population of the town within, judging from the smoking remains. Morri sat down and stared at the sight thinking while Sid wandered about the area.
::Why would anyone do this? An attack perhaps?::
"Hey! Look!" She turned at Sid's shout of discovery to watch him start to trot toward what looked like a body....
::SID STOP! GO NO FURTHER!::
The panther halted and sat down, looking back at her, "Why?"
Morri didn't answer. Instead her form became distorted, and she melted into the shape of a tall woman crouched on the ground. She stood and gestured to the body. "Plague. I smelled it, but couldn't place it. Whoever this brave soul was, he used his last remaining hours to attempt to cleanse plague from the area, before he succumbed himself."
Sid wrinkled his feline nose..."Well, should we bury him or something? I mean...I guess he sort of deserves it, right?"
"No..." She lifted her hand toward the body, drawing the energy from within herself, down her arm, to send a blinding bolt of lightening at it. "Let the poor wretch go out in a blaze of glory."
"Kinda funny, YOU cleaning up after Death." Sid quipped. "Indeed." Morri shifted to wolf form again.
::Come. We continue.:: She started off in a run toward the main road again, an idea already forming in her mind.
Sid stood, stretched, then ran, his panther speed easily bringing him up with her in a few short moments. "You know...you're not NEARLY as much fun when you're working."
Morri offered him a tongue lolling wolf grin as they continued their run toward Camelot.
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They came upon the outskirts of another village...passing withered and unhealthy looking fields as they approached. But at least there were SOME signs of life. They slowed as the came upon a small farmhouse, watching for any movement. They didn't wait long. A quick flutter from the curtain by the window, then a tall gaunt man burst from the door of the house, hurriedly stringing a bow, then grabbing the arrow from the emaciated woman next to him.
Morri widened her amber wolf eyes at their appearance...::SID! RUN!!!:: as she turned tail and streaked for the cover of the trees at the other side of the road, pursued by the shrill cries of the woman..."Get one, you oaf! We've not had meat in WEEKS, man! HURRY! SHOOT!"
Morri didn't stop to look for Sid until she was deep in the shadows of the forest. ::Sid?:: A whispered "yeah." off to her right told her he was safe. She sat on her haunches, finally noticing the absence of birdsong in the trees, the absence of ANY sign of life. Even the evergreen bushes surrounding them were tinged with brown. ::Come on, and make no sound.::
They crept back to the edge of the forest and looked out at the little farmstead. The tall lanky man sat on the ground, head in hands, sobbing, and the woman stood wringing her hands in her threadbare apron. "Ya tried, husband, I know ya did. We'll find summat t'feed the little uns...I've still got the turnips...we'll get through. Twas just a bad harvest...and a bit of bad luck, that fire that destroyed our barn and the all our grain." The woman's voice was ragged, as if she didn't half believe her own words.
::Come Sid. I've seen enough. I know.:: "Know what?" She turned and headed back toward Ravenwood Manor.
"Hey! I thought we were going to Camelot!"
She did not answer, lost in thought for the entire run home.
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Morri stopped when the manor was in sight, in time to see a messenger ride up on horseback and leap off to run up the steps to the big double doors at the front of the house. She quickly shifted to her human shape, stood, and strode rapidly forward. Sid padded after her, not bothering to change forms.
Morri took the steps two at a time and stomped through the door, looking for her chamberlain, intent on telling him to send some provisions to that poor family they'd seen. She stopped short when she saw the horrified look on the chamberlain's face as he stared first at the messenger before him, then at the parchment in his hands.
"What is it."
The chamberlain mutely handed her the missive, shaking his bowed head. She quickly scanned the contents of the letter. It was from her brother, informing her that in the absence of her husband, his whereabouts unknown, HE would be coming to see to the affairs of her estate. Morri knew that her brother was well aware she would brook no interference. She also knew that he knew his thinly disguised attempt to absorb her lands into his would be met with resistance. Their enmity had a long history, but since his daughter Elspeth had run away to stay with her, that dislike had turned to hatred for her assistance in helping the girl avoid what, for her father, would have been a very advantageous marriage, and alliance. But what escaped her was WHY on earth he would TRY such a thing now...her husband had well prepared their retainers for just such an eventuality before he ran off on that fool crusade of his. Her brother would have to be insane to war against her now.
She looked up from the letter and crumpled it in her hands. That was the answer. "War."
She turned and dashed up the stairs to her chamber, not noticing the small black cat that insinuated himself into the room behind her before she turned and locked the door.
She dropped to her knees and bowed her head, "Mother." The familiar rush of cold air was longer, and colder this time.
"Rise daughter."
Morri stood to find herself confronted not only by her mistress, the Crone...but also by two others; a slender, attractive young woman dressed in silver that reminded her of moonlight, with a moonstone diadem on her brow...the Maiden; and a handsome, voluptuous woman of middle years, dressed in the warm colors of autumn, the Mother.
"Morgian..." the Crone rasped in her crackling voice. "We have seen through your eyes all that you discovered, and we know now the source of these rents in the fabric of Fate. I think you've also guessed it. What we do not know, is WHO has unleashed these things on the world."
The Maiden continued in a light, melodious voice..."The hosts of Camelot are assembled, as are many of their allies..." The Mother chuckled, her voice rich and warm, "yes, and some most unusual allies, at that! Angels, of all things!"
The Crone offered her sisters a quelling look, then croaked on, "We believe the answer lies there. The worthies of Camelot do not muster such force except in the face of great evil. Set your house in order, do not delay, and get to Camelot with all speed."
The Mother offered Morri a sympathetic look, and spoke kindly, "Worry not for your little one. I still control the weaving of some parts of the pattern. All will be well here."
The Maiden looked at her sister in horror. "We're not supposed to TELL!"
The Crone sighed softly, "There are times when rules can and should be broken, young one. Not all things are black and white, good and evil. Did you not see the one "angel" standing among the hosts at Camelot? But no matter, we've much to do before we join Morgian on that field."
Morri watched the sisters natter on...somewhat amused, and amazed...that the weavers of fate could be so...sisterly. Then they all turned to face her, their familiarity dissipating, replaced by the majesty of their office, and Morri knelt again, head bowed. They each placed a hand on her head, in silent benediction this time, then the familiar blast of cold air told her they were gone.
She stood and strode to her closet to pull out her scythe, and nearly tripped on a black cat with big ice blue eyes.
"SID!"
He had the grace to look abashed, but not the least bit contrite. "I'm going. You can't stop me. Yeah, yeah, I know... don't eavesdrop, yaddah yaddah yaddah...Look. I'm your FAMILIAR...means I'm like...your right hand MAN...your HOSS....c'mon! You can't treat me like a kitten for the rest of my life."
Morri grabbed the scythe and spun on her heel, heading out the door. "C'mon then."
Sid blinked and stared after her for a minute..."you...I...alRIGHT!" He leaped after and followed her about purring and rubbing against her legs as she gave instructions to the household guard, until she picked him up and mounted PaleHorse, her cream colored stallion.
She'd named her horse that as somewhat of a joke, but now, as she wheeled him and galloped off toward Camelot with Sid perched on her shoulder, she was rethinking that choice.
Date: Mon, 24 Nov 1997 19:00:23 -0500
From: Ernie/Simon/Lerrad/Tuckian/etc
"I will break down your stubborn pride and make the sky above you like iron and the ground beneath you like bronze. Your strength will be spent in vain, because your soil will not yield its crops, nor will the trees of the land yield their fruit."
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Famine sits astride the thin black mare, his cold eyes gleaming as he looks out over the land of France. The cold of his winter had killed much of the harvest, weakening the inhabitants there. He thinks to himself with a grin, 'Soon the time will be at hand, soon even the strong shall succumb.' He spurs his horse, riding off from that land and toward the land of Ireland on the wings of his winds.
He gallops up atop a hill looking out over the lush green fields of this land. With still eyes, he glances at the ground and at the hooves of his mare dug into the once soft moist soil. Famine leans forward and pats the mare's neck as the fertile soil begins to dry, the ground cracking under the now browning grass. Like a wave from the horse's foot prints, he watches the land around him die, the leaves of the plants shrivel and all manor of insect fall upon the only green that remains. He straightens in his saddle, pulling his cloak over his head and spurs the mare onward, for there is much to do and he cannot waste time.
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Sarah smiles and wrings out a dish towel looking at the children playing on the hillside. She always enjoyed watching them playing and was wondered by how well the brother and sister got along. She turns, setting the table for evening meal, Matthew will be home soon enough and she wanted everything to be right for him.
Stepping out of the kitchen and into the small dinner area, she gathered up the linens and began folding them, craning her neck to see the children still playing. She finished her folding quickly, placing the linens in a small cupboard and stepping to the door to call the children in.
Sarah wipes a strand of hair from her forehead and cups her hands around her face, calling out to them, "Michelle! Ryan! Come on in now and wash up for dinner! Papa'll be home soon!"
The children look up from their playing and begin to make their way toward the house, fumbling around with one another as they skip along.
"Ryan, leave your sister be and come in now! I mean it, Boy!"
She shakes her head, unable to stop the grin from forming on her face as she steps back into the house. She moves into the kitchen and opens a pot, stirring the stew and checking to be certain the potatoes are cooked right. She glances up toward the hillside and sees that the children are almost to the barn, still bumping into either other, playing some game she was sure. She shakes her head, then blows on a spoonful of the stew and leans to taste it. Sarah pauses a moment in thought, frowning a bit..."Salt, I think.", then tosses a pinch of salt in and continues to stir.
The children rush into the house, laughing and talking to each other and to Sarah. "All right, then...come now, let's get washed up." She follows them to the wash basin and pours some water into it, "Michelle, Ryan...you wash and afterwards I need help setting the table."
The children answer in together, "Yes, Ma."
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Famine strides up upon the thin black horse, the ribs of the beast all but jutting through its skin. He looks out over the darkness of the land, not remembering what the name of this one is, there have been so many. He pauses thoughtfully a moment, then raises his eyes to the sky as clouds begin to form, then nods at the flash of lightning and the first drops of it's rain.
The mare jolts a bit under him at the feel of the rain as it burns it's skin. Famine pats the horse and speaks in a course lowered tone, "Shhh...tis needed to scorch the lands and to make the water poisoned." He again raises his eyes to the land, pulling down his cloak and watching the poison water flow down the mountainside and into the lakes and rivers.
He once again spurs the sides of the horse, urging the weary beast onward to the next place where death will soon stand...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As he rides down the dusty path, Matthew Conner has but one thing on his mind and that is getting home. He knows he is later than he expected, but the clerk at the mercantile had such a fine story to tell, he could not resist staying to the end.
Matthew urges his steed along quickening his pace, knowing that Sarah is probably going to be upset for his missing dinner. He smiles, also knowing that she will forget he is late when she sees that which he found for her...a soft dress to wear on Sundays. 'She will love it.', he thinks proudly to himself. He had also not forgotten the hard sweets she made him promise to get for the children.
Up ahead along the path, Matthew can see travelers coming toward him. He is surprised to see that these travelers are on foot this far out from any town, but he rides on, fearing more his wife's wrath than any means of thief. "Hello, there!", he yells as he rides up to them, finally stopping the horse on the trail when he sees their condition.
"Holy God! What has happened to you?"
He slides off his horse and rushes to the woman and child. "Are ya in pain?", he asks. He asks this because these people look dead already, their faces sunken and pale, their hands thin.
The woman speaks weakly to Matthew, urging with her hands that the child not stop, "Tis all gone. The land is barren...our cattle...", with this, the woman collapses to the ground, her thin arms spread out in front of her.
Matthew lowers quickly to help her, afraid of breaking her apparent fragile, thin arms as he lifts her into his lap. "How did this happen?" He says, having very little else to say, but soon realizing the woman is dead. He frantically looks down the path at the child now stopped and staring back with hollow eyes. Matthew stares for a moment in silence, not understanding or prepared for this situation and thinking of his own children now. The child lowers his head for a long while, his lips cracked and his eyes dark with the coming of his own death...then turns and moves again, like a shade, away down the path and away from Matthew.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sarah sets the plates in front of the children, "Here you are. You eat, I'm sure Papa'll be along soon." She glances at the door, the sun shining a faint glow through the covered window there. She forces a smile so as not to upset the children with her worrying, "He's probably getting something special for us all right now."
Sarah steps back to the kitchen and covers the pot to save it's warmth, looking out the window at the trail that Matthew would...no, should be on. She bites her bottom lip with worry, then shakes her head, thinking to herself...'He's probably gotten himself into a conversations somewhere. He loves to talk.'
She shakes off any bad feelings and calls to the children, "I'm going to eat as well, your father is most likely making friends some where." She pours two cups of water and brings them into the children, "And tis no sin to be friendly. Know that, Children." She sets the cups down with a soft smile, brushing the hair from Michelle's eyes and running a quick soft touch down her cheek as Michelle picks up her cup and begins to drink.
"Ryan...here you are.", she slides a cup toward him. Ryan nods quickly, chewing on a hunk of beef from his stew, then nudges Michelle causing a bit of a whine from her. "Ryan, eat your dinner and let Michelle alone." She shakes her head and turns to the kitchen again, placing her hand on her stomach, "Now, I'm hungry." The children giggle at her words and she speaks from the kitchen, "I'm just so excited to see what your father has for us. Mayhaps some candy for you, Children." She smiles knowingly, filling her dish and covering the pot again.
She pauses again, glancing out the window toward the path and shakes her head with a roll of her eyes as she turns. "Children...", she steps out of the kitchen, "..I said your father will have..." Sarah gasps, dropping her dish and rushing to the table. She quickly calls out their names as she lift each of their heads from the table, "Ryan? Michelle?". She shakes Michelle, the child's head only flops back and forth, eyes turned upward in her head, then Ryan, tear streaming down her face.."Boy...wake up! Ryan!"
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Famine slides from his mare, standing straight and holding tight to it's bindings. He steps out onto a cliff's edge looking at the world he has scarred, seeing the poisoned rivers and dying crops. He closes his eyes, tilting his head to catch the first of the sweet song beginning to rise above the low hum of the world.
He sighs, "There. There it is. My reward.", he whispers aloud to himself, "The song of the souls as they leave the bodies of the dead." He leans his head back as the chorus of wailing souls grows louder. He releases a sigh of pleasure, then turns quickly and mounts the mare once again, riding toward green fertile lands, a wave of death spreading out from the path he's left behind.
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