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peredhil31 Elder of Lists and Manners Posts: 370 (11/9/01 6:55:16 am) Reply Vacuums better suck! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- But these both don't. LOL. Dragcor - I think anyone who's been in sales will relate to your frustrations. Rezure - Great job playing with patterns and variations. -Peredhil

Rezure Quill-Bearer Posts: 25 (11/9/01 12:54:28 am) Reply A Variation on a theme -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Trial 1: One Day in the Life of a vacuum salesman... As Dragcor Warwick awoke one morning from unsettling dreams he found himself transformed into a monstrous vacuum cleaner. He lay on his plastic, cordless back and saw, as he lifted himself up a little, his smooth, bagless abdomen with a small light at the front. From this height his blanket could hardly stay in place. His numerous attachments, were completely inaccessible to him, just flickering helplessly before him. "This sucks," he thought. It was no dream. His room, a proper room for a human being, only somewhat too small and unfortunately hard-floored, lay quietly between the four well-known walls. Above the table, on which an unpacked collection of sample carpet was spread out (Dragcor was a traveling salesman) hung the picture which he had cut out of an illustrated magazine a little while ago and set in a pretty gilt frame. It was a picture of a sheep with a fur hat and a fur boa. It sat erect there, lifting up in the direction of the viewer a solid wool muff into which her entire forearm disappeared. Dragcor's glance then turned to the window. The dreary weather (the rain drops were falling audibly down on the metal window ledge) made him quite melancholy. "Why don't I keep sleeping for a little while longer and forget all this foolishness," he thought... Trial 2: To peddle vacuum cleaners is not a very easy task You must do demonstrations from dawn until the dusk You try to keep your dignity You try to have some class but selling vacuum cleaners is a @#%$ pain in the ass Refrain: I can't take no more of this awful routi-i-ine 'Cause I'm sick and tired of making things cle-e-ean I know life's not easy, I don't like to mo-o-oan But a travellin' salesman always feels so alo-o-one Nobody's that interested in what you have to say And people disrespect you to make you go away When they say "it sucks and it blows!" they think they're being funny oh, the things you must put up with just to get a little money Refrain I don't know my co-workers But I know my boss's a jerk He must think that I enjoy doing this kind of work But I must keep on working til the day that I grow old And keep up a fake appearance to get that vacuum sold Refrain Hovers and Orecks and Dirt Devils... Oooooooooooohhhhhhh!

Dragcor Warwick Page Posts: 21 (11/8/01 8:35:31 pm) Reply one night in the life of a vacuum salesman -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- be warned, this is sort of a make up as a type it here sorta thing, so it wont be that poetic or this that or the other the stars shine bright the moon is shining your freezing your tail off cauz the lady kicked your butt out she wanted a silver tray and a free shampoo but you ran out of your trays so she threw you out like doggy do NO SILVER TRAY out with the trash you go to try to wash your machine no water, no soap, just you you have to make money got to pay all them damn bills but it seems like all this customers fell down the wrong side of the hill im trying to type this and im tired as hell so ill go set my alarm and wake up to that blasted bell ok, that SUCKS hehe, but heck, for a guy who sells vacuums, its not to bad right right...?? Edited by: Dragcor Warwick at: 11/8/01 8:36:23 pm

joat116 Bard Posts: 5 (11/10/01 2:47:08 pm) Reply The end of the Intro -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (woohoo! I found a free 5 minutes under the couch!) A long and fruitless battle followed the release of the Seconds. The Seconds could no more kill the First or the Thirds than they themselves could die. In turn the Thirds and First could not manage to imprison the Seconds again. In time both factions found no end of the fighting was in sight. For eons the beings of the cosmos tried to find a way to establish who was supreme over the other. Yet it seemed there was no way to decide a victor in the conflict. Finally it was agreed that no immortal being could ever hope to defeat another immortal being. It was decided that instead a war would be fought by proxy. Each side would form beings who would fight the others creations in a neverending struggle. If one faction's creations became dominant then that faction would be declared the winner. The universe made for the creations would be terminated and the winners crowned as rulers of the cosmos. So it came to pass that the Fourths were created and set in this universe. We, mankind, are the creations of the light, set to oppose the darkness that seeks to consume all. If we fail all is lost, our lives, our world ended and the shadow supreme. Our deaths in vain, our purpose failed. If we succeed, we die in glory, with the knowledge that the light has prevailed and ever will preserve the cosmos. This is our sacred task, to ever oppose the darkness which falls over this land. We must be ever vigilant, ever strong, and never failing. To fail is worse than death. -Taken from the Lost Chronicles of Abbot Balor (The story actually starts after this. woohoo ;P) Edited by: joat116 at: 11/10/01 2:49:11 pm

peredhil31 Elder of Lists and Manners Posts: 354 (11/1/01 11:22:47 am) Reply More! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After waiting patiently for several days, Peredhil begins prompting for more, More, MORE! Good stuff!

joat116 Visitor Posts: 1 (10/27/01 8:07:45 pm) Reply Godstuff -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This began as a bedtime story for my girlfriend. I got invited here my Wyvern so thought I'd drop by. (The title is godstuff btw) In the begining there was energy. Pure, undiluted energy filled the universe from end to end. Waves of it ran unfathomable distances, pulsing through the cosmos. Slowly over imeasurable time the pulsing of the waves formed gradients, pathways of flowing energy, until the universe took on currents and flows of growing complexity. It was amoung these flickering and unsteady currents that intellingence was first formed. It was an unsteady thing at first. Uncomprehending of its existence. However slowly it developed. It's thoughts burst throught the energy pathways of the universe more quickly and in complex chains. Eventually it learned to control it's substance and the energy of the universe danced in complex harmonies of life. For a time the intellingence was happy merely manipulating the flows of energy into a complex ballet of infinite sensation. As time passed the intellingence began to feel something was lacking. After millenium of introspection it decided it wanted a companion to share in the wonders of life with. The intellingence created a void amoungest the universes tidal energies and began to experiment with creating life. It's early efforts were nothing but energy formations which quickly disolved into chaos. However after experimentation of several thousand years the intellingence found that by compacting the energy and locking it into place it remained stable. The intellingence used this "matter" to form it's first stable constructs. Although these were not alive it was a great step forward. It was a simple matter to instill in the constructs a minor version of the currents that flowed through the universe until at last the second intellingence was formed. The First was proud of his achievement and immediatly began to teach the newborn second how to control the flows of the universe. However the Seconds control was much weaker than thr First's. Although slightly disappointed that his creation wasn't an equal the First still was pleased. Although the first was powerful it was not omniscent nor omnipresent. At times it left it's creation alone in it's void to tend to the flows of the universe. It was during this time that the Second began to form more of its kind from the boundries of energies around it. When the First's attention returned to it's creation he found thirteen of the Seconds where before there had been one. The thirteen immediatly turned on the First and began to try to disrupt the energy flows of his thoughts. The first was disappointed in his progenies malice but had no fear of their efforts. Their limited power caused nothing but minor disruptions in the First's substance. The First wearily hardened the matter around the Second's forming a cage of sorts that even they could not penetrate. For a time all was peaceful. The First redesigned his model for life and created the Thirds. The energy concentration was even further reduced in the Thirds and their control of the universes flows even less. They were poor imitations of the First but they did not have the moral flaws of the Seconds and so the First made many of them. Peace reigned through the cosmos for millions of years until the time of awakening. As the Thirds had proliferated the First had expanded the vacuum of energy for them to live in. Unknowingly the domain of the Thirds had expanded to include the prison of the Seconds. As the thirds were inquisitive beings it was not long before one stumbled upon the structure. The Third watched the Seconds in their cage for a time before approaching. The Seconds were arrayed in their prison in a diamond with the points touching the sides of the cell and one in the center. The third approached cautiously the new being. After a time of watching the Seconds sit motionless in their odd formation the third approached closer. Abruptly the third was slammed by an unseen force against the Seconds cage. The Second immediatly before him stared for a moment cooly before rising up on skeletal legs. The Second approached with unnatural grace and gently caressed the Thirds cheek. As the Second contacted the Thirds flesh voices screamed through his mind. Searing images of the torment flamed through his thoughts as the Seconds manipulated his minds energies. Yet underneath it all one constant voice whispered soothing words and asked to be allowed to make the torment stop. The Third screamed in agony as his mind told him his body was being pulled apart piece by piece only to be reassembled and destroyed again. The Thirds mind quickly crumbled under the vicious assault of the Seconds. The whisper that asked only submission quickly grew into a roar of voices which drowned out the Thirds own thoughts. The body of the Third crumpled and fell to the ground outside the cage. The body remained inert for a moment before slowling rising with the same unnatural grace of a Second. Already subtle changes showed in it's body. As it traveled back the way the third had come it's body began to thin, becoming almost skeletal. Hair grew and darkened while skin hardened and took on a darker hue. The eyes deepened and became almost slitlike in nature. The Second walked until it found a Third alone and unobserved. Quietly and quickly The Second approached the Third and slammed it into the ground. The Second covered the mouth of the Third before screams of agony could escape its lips. The third's mind submitted to the will of the Second's quickly and this third too began to change. The Seconds quickly captured and converted eleven more Thirds before their task was finished. The Awakening had begun.... -To be continued later-

Tek Chaos Visitor Posts: 6 (11/17/01 11:34:21 pm) Reply The Shadowed Warrior -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Shadowed Warrior Memories… What a horrible account. To see things as they were, enjoy them as if they were now. Feel the good and the bad of the past, and use to help the future. Yes, memories. I remember when I had memories. Four years ago seems like an eternity. To find it, to look so far back within my mind, is like looking through a fog. I know it’s there. That time when I had feelings, beliefs… and friends. Useless really. But I was young, and knew no better. A lot can happen in four years. Babies can be born, entire kingdoms can be raised, and can fall, and even the closest of your family can leave you. My last four years ended up being the most important and most altering of my life. * * * Once upon a time, I was an aspiring warrior: the best in my class. I trained in the arts of swordplay and dabbled in magic. I had talent, I was told, by the master there. He was an old man, who had by far past his day, but he had connections. So I trained my heart away, and made many a friend. One struck me hard in sparring one day, and gained my utmost respect. Darren was his name I think. We stuck together in training and fought together against all comers in a local tournament; the master had suggested we enter. We won with ease, that I remember well. Apparently there were guild scouts there, and a particular group approached Darren and I. We accepted their offer, and became two members of Jaharia’s Company, a long-standing guild of the best and most skilled rouges in the province. But even they were small in the big scheme of things. Eventually Jaharia’s Company got in a spat with a big guild out of province, and called us all in. In a half a year, Jahaira’s Company would no longer exist. The corners of darkness The Company fought hard, but was destroyed in a war against a cutthroat guild that spread over 7 provinces called the Union of Shadows. Darren and I struggled against their men, and managed to kill 5 to 1 on each encounter. When they overwhelmed us, they offered us positions as an ultimatum to execution. We took it. They taught us everything. Beyond our battle talents, they taught us the way of the world. Enhancing our experiences with the aid of knowledge. Faith in our team and guild was bestowed within us. We learned to act as one. During the first 5 months there, Darren and I helped the Union of Shadows grow into 5 other provinces. The entire territory only divided into 20 provinces, and we were determined to bring our guild into all of them. Having been promoted to the highest rank within the guild, Darren and I split up and worked on different provinces. It was several months and 3 conquered provinces later that I received word of Darren’s death. He was murdered in the field of battle, an axe in his back. Evil’s one true weapon This news was unacceptable. I traveled to his place of death and engaged the enemy in battle immediately. I must have slew half an army that day. I would not command again for a long time. I spent my days in training. For months and honed my magical abilities and learned the arts of new and interesting weapons. When I emerged from my hole of darkness, a god of skill, I learned of the Union of Shadows’ encounters with another guild, the Light of Honour. Our number of provinces were halved. The battle was not finished, either and had become a threat to the leaders of the Union. Later it would be called the War against the Light. With my leaders’ permission I led a crusade to drive back the Light of Honour and succeeded flawlessly. It took less time to reclaim what we had lost then when we had first gained it. And within weeks following the reclaimed land, all but one province had been conquered. Never had I battled such insolence. O, Immortal of life Before I was able to claim the last province, and the territory for the Union of Shadows, several simultaneous assassinations claimed the lives of my leaders. The guild would blame me for their deaths; some saying I arranged it personally, some who blamed my inability to stop the attempts. I was banished from my guild, and told never to return. Though I was banished from the guild and commanded no armies, their ways were still a part of me. I would go on the road, traveling from one place to another, living as I see fit. Nothing would – nor could – stop me. I wandered, drifted from kingdom to kingdom and did whatever I wanted. Occasionally I would be recognized, and battle would have to result in my retort. My skills were unmatched though, and so my ways were always unobstructed. And never does he yield * * * It was in those travels that I lost my emotion, my belief in all things save for myself. All those things before now, the trivial twists and turns of life that brings us to who we are. What is the point to knowing them, to caring for them, if they don’t have a bearing on how we exist? To live is one thing. I do that to this day, and I will never cease in my actions until the day comes, if ever, when I am unmatched. But to remember life? It is pointless. They wrote a poem about me. I heard it in a tavern once and marveled at the idea of expressing my actions as a memory. The Shadowed Warrior The corners of darkness, Wield a warrior true. Who does with solid blade, Runs the hopes of good men through. Evil’s one true weapon, The bane of all our time. He falls from the shadows, And to them he gives climb. O, Immortal of life, his Weapons do not miss. Magics that are unmatched, Sending rivals to the dark abyss. And never does he yield, Whilst on his deadly path. And never will he yield, We shall always see his wrath. Yes, memories… useless really.

Zadown Bard Posts: 155 (11/21/01 12:01:39 pm) Reply Dreamer Interlude II -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He could feel the time flowing past him, years and years appearing and fading away, and he was adrift in the backward stream of it, propelled by the power of Aetaus with the aid of Eaversium and Kali. He could feel his own birth getting closer, and he knew it would be his death, too - the begining and the end, all tied up, the snake eating his own tail and ending up vanishing utterly like it never was. But he could feel his new powers of chaos, too, and he would not go down without a fight, never. He streched away long fingers of magic, trying to grab hold of something in the stream, trying to slow his descent to the past even a fraction, but this river of time was unknow territory for him, and it was all strange colors, tastes, feels. The Dreamer's spells failed him, all the protective enchantments fading as they passed the mark when they were first woven. The thin links he held to his bound servants severed themselves, dissolving in the raging stream of time and he lost contact to his fortresses as he was hurled backwards. The planewalker was disintegrating, all his outter layers of magic and contacts being stripped away from him again, just like Chaos had done to him. The Dreamer hadn't really known before what falling felt like. And he surrendered to falling and to chaos like he had done in his battle against the dream god, just let his consincous mind go and entered battle trance, shedding away anything that wasn't needed right now. That was the key, had always been. His thin fingers of magic straightened, formed the skeletons of wings, and between those unreal masts he unfurled sails of chaos, bracing against the fall. Time slipped past him, bringing him closer and closer to his doom, a huge boulder of sandstone from the hourglass of time at a time ... a huge boulder, a smaller one, then just a rock, a shallow stream of sand... ... and then the clock which had rotated wildly backwards finally stopped. He had survived the fall.

Zadown Bard Posts: 152 (11/16/01 3:10:42 pm) Reply Re: Dreamer Interlude II -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Step. Flash of powerful auras, a series of jarring hits which disintegrated his defences, pain and blindness, confusion, agony as spears of force penetrated him. He had walked straight to an ambush. Shaking off the dizziness brought by pain the second time in very short time he focused his senses to the beings that had so crushed his protective enchantments. He had been sure that he could run past any angels or demons that would be waiting, that he could evade or fight them with his augmented powers. These were greater forces, of that he was sure even before he saw them, one right before him and one on his left, one on his right side. Before him stood Aetaus, god of time: an ancient man holding a hourglass and a hermit's staff, eyes two bright stars looking at both past and future, visiting the present only briefly; he was wearing flowing old dirty robes that used to be white, the ethereal edges of the cloth fading to the Void. He stared straight at the Dreamer, far away but tall enough to look majestetic even from distance. He could almost feel the hatred eminating from him, and he remembered all those times he had acted against the agents of Aetaus, killing, hindering, or even binding them to be his own servants. On the planewalker's left side was Eaversium, god of destruction. The heavy-set warrior, armed with a massive maul and wearing a mishmash of armor, face so full of cuts that seeing it from beneath all the black gushing blood is impossible, just floated in the Void, rising and lowering his hammer like he was beating something invisible with it. He couldn't see the look on his face, but it was a common knowledge that he was on a crusade against the gods, and this god rarely needed any excuse. And on the Dreamer's right side ... cold wind seemed to pass through him as he beheld the many-armed figure of Kali, a goddess of Death, dancing but standing still, reaching towards him with her deadly touch. A ghastly pain surged through him, duplicating the experience he had when the Herald of Chaos ripped the Mark of Kali from his throat, coursing through the same paths the roots of the amulet had ripped away by. The planewalker swayed and his vision dimmed, but he stood his ground. Waiting for the Dreamer to regain his composure fully, Aetaus glanced at his hourglass, then again fixed his stare at the planewalker. Through empty Void his voice boomed: "WE HAVE FOLLOWED YOU HERE TO JUDGE YOU, PLANEWALKER" The Dreamer tried to speak, to spit one last time to the faces of the gods with his words, but they had silenced him with their shackles, and he could just hang there, raging without a voice, watching them to gloat over his suspended body. "YOU HAVE ACTED AGAINST US FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS, BEEN A CONSTANT ANNOYANCE FOR US. WE TOLERATED THAT. RESISTANCE SHOWS OUR MIGHT, MAKES PEOPLE WORSHIP US. YOU WERE ON OUR SIDE, REBEL. BUT THEN YOU KILLED ONE OF US." The god's eyes focused fully on him, let the future and the past go. "EYE FOR AN EYE, PLANEWALKER!" The gods combined their forces and hurled him backwards in time, towards his destruction.

Zadown Bard Posts: 150 (11/14/01 5:15:09 pm) Reply Dreamer Interlude II -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Dreamer opened his eyes, shaking his head and unwinding his body from its curled up form, coming out of the healing trance groggy and confused. He looked around and saw the fortress of Chaos, now again properly with both magic and more mortal senses, and he felt his power expand beyond the scope of this miniature pocket dimensions, touched his far-away servants and hideouts with outstreched fingers of power. The angelic she-devil was not in sight, but now he could feel her presence permeating the place - she was everywhere instead of nowhere. The planewalker turned to stare at the barrier between him and the friendly, free Void. Freedom beckoned, freedom and the Lost Paths, his own roads in the places between places. Patience was an easy virtue for a being of hundreds and hundreds of years, though, so he held himself in check and took time to reweave all his usual enchantments. Protection could be essential, if there were still some angels or demons out there waiting for him to come out... he would wait, if he would've come this far to find his prey. Something didn't feel quite right, but analyzing just what it was wasn't easy. He had changed again with this new acceptance of Chaos, and he felt new and raw, both clumsier and more powerful than before. Part of the power coursing through him was now pure chaos, and if he would learn to utilize it to its fullest extent, he'd have a definite edge againts opponents who were his match before. Watch out, Sarnael ... I doubt you could win against me now. With all his protection in place, ready for quick run to his nearest fortress past any who might wait in guard and already thinking of how to accomplish the task Chaos had set for him, the Dreamer stepped through the barrier to the Void.

Zadown Bard Posts: 148 (11/14/01 11:55:38 am) Reply Dreamer Interlude II -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Breathing deeply, not because he needed to but because it was a gesture his body wanted to do, the planewalker reached under his robes and pulled out the black, iridescent amulet which Kali had put there. It was inert, as it had been all this time, just a mark of the death goddess, nothing more, nothing less. "I want you to remove this, Chaos. Shouldn't be too much for a great power like you. I would've taken it off myself, but it was etched into my being when I was weak, and it has deep roots..." The tall fiendish woman in front of him smiled, showing her sharp, long canines, light dancing on her blood-red teeth. " Mark of Kali ... I can almost taste the irony of that, immortal boy". She licked her lips with her forked black tongue. " Yes, we could remove that, godslayer, if you agree to do what we asked you to do the last time." The Dreamer's face showed first suprise and then contemplation. He could feel the outter tendrils of the Herald's aura touching him, cajoling him with more power, but he tried to ignore it as he thought the offer through. So they haven't gotten anybody else to do it yet ... it is right at the edge of my powers, but I have progressed since they last asked, so I guess I could do it. Still, to stray from the middle path ... Some part of him realized that he had strayed countless years ago, when he utilized chaos to help him against the dream god and when his eyes had changed, and the truth spread from that point, filling his entire mind. "I will do it, Chaos. As soon as I can get rid of my followers." Herald of Chaos smiled again, a fraction of hostility melting away from her fiendish face. She gestured lazily and the mana flows reattached themselves to him, bringing with them a slight taint of chaos, which made him shudder. This is it ... no more talking with the Law, I am a marked one. One mark goes, another comes. Then the Herald's hand flashed forward, her wings propelling her, and she snatched the amulet from the Dreamer's throat with one powerful pull. There was a silent snapping sound as it came loose, but the planewalker couldn't hear it - he was convulsing as the deep roots of the Mark of Kali left him, tearing at him as they were torn out. World dimmed for an indetermined moment. When he came back to his senses, he was staring at the face of the Herald of Chaos from close range. " Oh, did that hurt?" She grinned, showing enough teeth to rip the planewalker's head off. The Dreamer just shuddered and floated away a feet or two, trying to regain his senses and powers fully, curling up in the middle of the Void. The last thing he heard as he started a regenerative trance were the mocking words of the Herald of Chaos: " Heal up, scarred boy, they'll be waiting for you outside..."

Zadown Bard Posts: 147 (11/13/01 4:28:05 pm) Reply Dreamer Interlude II -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nothingness changed into a being. Normally, the Dreamer would've probed the thing on many levels, would've read its aura, gauged the amount of mana it drained from the background, estimated how big a threat it was and planned ways to either beat it or flee it. Now he was helpless, and the only thing he could do was watch as a swirl appeared in the void before him, and the potential that permeated this place turned into certainity - with a quick flash of light, it took the form of a female half-angel, half-demon, the features of both mixing cleverly with each other in the tall and impressive body of the Herald of Chaos. She had leathery wings with beautiful white feathers here and there, big, eerie, blue eyes with fiery red sparks inside them, dark horns protruding from between white hair and a shiny coppery skin that glistened in the glow of the Fortress. She streched her newly created body and then, slowly, she turned to stare directly at the Dreamer. " So you came, planewalker? I see you have already taken several steps to our direction in the centuries that have passed since our last talk. So, speak, little one, and I will listen." Her voice was fire and ice, hate and cold scorn, but her face held a degree of intrest that promised ... something. "Ah, you know very well why I am here, Chaos. I wouldn't come here, not after what happened, unless I ... needed a favor." The Herald of Chaos started to laugh. " In trouble, waiting for us to release you from the trap? You are a fool if you think we touch Lady of Pain or even her troops. And we do not owe you anything, never did." She crossed her arms across her breasts and waited for a good reply or for a reason to send the Dreamer away, to the claws of the army that waited just on the other side of the barrier. The power of chaos flared around her as a magnificent aura, seen even with bare eyes, and for first time as the Dreamer the planewalker felt fear...

Zadown Bard Posts: 138 (11/7/01 11:21:09 am) Reply Dreamer Interlude II -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the darkness to the light. Some remote part of the Dreamer's brain was amused at that, went through thinking all the possible angles, saw how right and how wrong those words were in the context. Most of his brain had other things to do with its time, however. Behind him was the wall to the Void, showing a surface as dark and mundane as it had done from the outside. It looked like a perfect window - you couldn't see it, but it was there, a barrier between him and the empty, free Void, a block between him and his Paths. Before him... ... the Chaos Fortress. A pulsating wooden sphere, telling the tale of the multiversum with its engraved surface, rotating .. a massive angel wings furled looking sad, rotating .. a metal caste made out of swords, rotating .. a tall stone egg, rotating ... rotating, it changed, not transmuting but just being different from one moment to another, changing so profoundly it had never been anything else, but also shining with a clear aura of potential, clearly visible to the planewalker. Only the change and the rotation were constants, and staring at the thing even the Dreamer felt a twist in his stomach. And not just because of the dizzying effect of the rotating pulsating twisting radiating change... People think that I am powerful .. and I guess they are right, from their point of view. But there are always bigger hammers. He felt the locals strip his impregnable armor of layer upon layer of protective and retaliatory spells, easily and quickly, and he felt like a giant in the hand of a titan, great but powerless against these forces. He had known it would be like this, but that didn't make it any easier. Emperors do not kneel. After they had finished with the enchantments, leisuredly and without showing their faces, they did the last, finishing touch: the Dreamer felt his flows of mana first slow down and then almost vanish, just leaving him a trickle to keep him alive and floating in the dark nothing. He felt naked and humiliated and alone - all the distant voices of the trapped angels and demons had stopped, he didn't feel his far-away fortresses any more, he was blind to the future and the present. Just the core remained, the sense of being, his stripped, powerless mind. And then the Chaos decided to appear to him.

Valdar and Astralis Initiate Posts: 9 (10/27/01 3:00:06 am) Reply Re: Dreamer Interlude II -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Valdar felt a familiar presence as he sped down yet another forgotten path. He had not come this way before, and was cloaked in a vast aura of energy, which streamed out behind him to form a huge multi-hued cone in the mana stream behind him. What is HE doing here? He wondered, slowing his rapid pace. Altering his course, the one who was once an elf set a new course to intercept his old teacher. Then the presence was gone. Valdar stopped in shock. What happened? he said aloud to himself. Slowly, his eyes changed from blue to black as he squinted into the borderlands. He cannot be dead; I would have felt it otherwise. And besides, the death of a walker of planes would cause a major disruption of the void around him. There is nothing . . . his thread just ended. Carefully tracing the mana stream, Valdar approached the last know position of the Dreamer warily, probing, then retreating again. Nothing. He passed the last plane, and saw the great nothingness, beyond which nothing lay. He reached out, unknowingly at the exact spot where the dreamer had vanished. Nothing. A disturbance made him turn, to face a small army of archangels and demons-all wearing the Sigil of the lady pain. His eyes flared involuntarily, through the strip of cloth he had taken to wearing about his head. Valdar was preparing to make a run for it before he recognized the lead Cherubim. “You”-he snarled. Without thinking, he drew his great sword, nameless as of yet-and flew straight into the startled host. Edited by: Valdar and Astralis at: 10/27/01 3:24:24 am

Zadown Bard Posts: 123 (10/27/01 1:27:25 am) Reply Dreamer Interlude II -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the middle of nothing, the Dreamer floated. His green robes were even more torn and bloody than normal, his eyes black globes tinted with red, his skin showing one new long scar, still slowly healing. He looked torn and dishevelled. And he stared forward with a look of mixed despair, hate, calculation and hope, right hand holding something so hard the knuckles were white. Just darkness before him. All the planes were behind him. This was it, the End of the Paths, the Borderlands. He had run from the center of known multiversum through his own lands to the stranger paths, then past them, to places he had visited only once or twice or never ... and now he was here. He knew about the frontier, everybody did. But to actually be here, that was different. He took one step forward. The shape of the place he was looking for unfolded in the Void before him, black on black, invisible. Just an innocent looking stretch of nothing to most. He had the key, though; he had been invited, a long time ago. Aeons ago, almost. Time was of little consequence to those waiting behind that barrier of warped-up Void, but still, he hoped that they did remember the pact they had offered. The planewalker opened his right hand and stared at the heavy key: 5" tall and 2" wide, it was made of ordinary iron, but it held a core of Void-matter, twisted to the exactly same shape than the Void in front of him was. The piece of metal felt heavy on his hand. He had never believed it would come to this. With a quick glance backwards and a sigh, the Dreamer stepped through the unseen wall.

Degenero Angelus Poet Posts: 18 (11/22/01 6:20:59 pm) Reply Re:Fading -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was no small wonder he woke up in the night, the wolves howling, and birds chirping. But none of that was what really woke him. The fire had gone out and he was cold, Ana and Scott had all the blankets, he had just his robes, and silk is certainly not warm, and the fire, to keep him warm. Frowning decidedly, he looked for his spellbook so that he could restart the fire. He looked about, in his tent, by the root cellar, even in Ana and Scott's tent. "Well, I guess I wont find it," he said. Just as he said that he saw something lying near the edge of the forest, and he went to inspect it. He hurried over and picked it up, it was his spellbook, after all, and smiled as his hand touched the cold runes on the covers and end. "Now, to get this fire started," the simple incantations were not hard, and soon he had a blazing fire burning. He sat down to read, and as he did, a man came out of HIS tent. Not a particularly big man, he seemed built more for speed. With a short sword strapped on his back and daggers in his boots, maybe even a theif. Natanis could never tell the different between normal losers and ones that stole from people. "Have a seat, sir," the boy motioned to the rock near to him. "No thanks kid, I dunno who the hell you are, and I certainly don't want anything to do with mages, so, if you don't mind, I'll be staying standing." "As you wish, but I advise you not to wake Scott. So, why are you here? Going to rob me, sir? A poor helpless child mage, his sister, and her lover?" "No kid I'm not gon- . . STOP!" It was too late. By the time the man realized what the boy mage was doing he was already asleep.

Degenero Angelus Poet Posts: 17 (11/18/01 8:51:22 am) Reply Re:Fading -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The small boy closed his book suddenly and stood up. "Good job, Scott. I should have known, though, you always win." The man who had been left standing looked at the boy and grinned. "Of course I do, Nat, of course I do. Now, can you heal these cuts, this one under my eye kind of hurts." He pointed to a large cut under his eye, and a lot of blood was running down his face from it. Natanis, 'Nat', replied, "Sure Scott, as usual." The boy walked over to the older man, placed his hands on his forehead and said a few words. The cut sealed up and the blood vanished from Scott's face. "Thanks kid, now lets go back to camp and have your sister cook us something nice, eh?" "Yeah, that sounds good." The path back to their camp was pretty clear, not too rough, but the sky was beautiful, each star could be seen, a perfectly clear night, only accentuated by the trees covered in snow. It really was an awesome site, and, as they came over the last hill, they saw the campfire lighting the valley below. A very pretty girl stood near it, apparently cooking meat of some sort. Natanis started running, and, as he got to her, he hugged her for long minutes. "Ana! I missed you. You should come watch Scott fight some time, he really is amazing." "Now kid, you know I don't really like that, but sometime maybe . . " She trailed off as Scott got to the camp. He looked at her and smiled, and she gave him a small kiss on the cheek. "Ana... I missed you today. I wish you would have been there. Oh well. What's cooking?" She smiled and pulled her arm away from him. "A rabbit I got today, I'm stewing it. Now, don't give me that face." Scott had acted like he was throwing up, he didn't like stewed rabbit. "Sorry, but you know I don't like stewed rabbit." He frowned and she giggled at him. "Ahhh, you're so cute! I know you don't like it, but you have to eat, and there haven't been many animals around this winter. So eat what I give you and be glad you have that much." She gave him another kiss and they all went to eat.

Degenero Angelus Poet Posts: 14 (11/15/01 5:43:33 pm) Reply Fading -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Well . .I'm not really known for my stories, and there's probably a good reason for that, but here goes anyway. ------------- The wind rustles through the trees, the sky, blue and black, filled with stars. A cold winter night, sometime in late December. Here and there a twig would crunch, snow being packed down under the weight of some animal or another. Small clearings dotted the forest's floor, and in one, a man stood with his sword, seeming forged from fire, in his hand, looking as if to challenge the gods themselves. Tall, with red hair, black eyes, and a body built like he was made for the sword, he was a blademaster, dancing like the wind as he fought. He was a handsome man, somewhere in his mid twenties. Bodies lay on the ground about him, bloodied and burnt from his magical weapon. Only one enemy was left standing, a man nearly as tall as he, with black hair, dressed in deep blue. He too was a blademaster, though he fought with steel. He stared at the other man with contempt, hatred in his blue eyes. One other person was in the clearing that night, a small boy with the deepest blue eys, wearing completely black, with black hair. Sitting on a stump on the edge of the clearing he watched the battle with disinterest, reading his spellbook more often than not. Stopping whenever someone was killed to offer a prayer. The two swordman lunged at each other in the same moment, blade on blade, steel on flame, one after the other. Blows flew, cuts appeared on both mens faces untill only one was left standing. ((To be continued))

Haruchi Visitor Posts: 4 (11/23/01 6:00:28 am) Reply Re: Ugh... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Evil .. pure evil ... *shudder*

Morganex Quill-Bearer Posts: 17 (11/23/01 5:06:19 am) Reply Re: Ugh... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Morgane giggles. "So that is why all the males disappeared as soon as the vet came. Though it wasn't the knife that did the deed...more like pliers "

Gyrfalcon25 Bard Posts: 106 (11/22/01 11:50:31 am) Reply Re: Ugh... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ummm... the uncomfortable mental image of a knife hovering near certain portions of our anatomy.

Wyvern00 Elder of Initiates Posts: 259 (11/21/01 11:53:51 pm) Reply Re: Ugh... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "What is it about males and geldin ?" Gelding is the ultimate sign of masculinity, since when you geld you're increasing your savings and thus making a profit. And honestly, can you think of anythng better then making a profit...? I mean, think about it... With money, you can buy sex and chocolate and... Note: if you haven't figured it out yet, Wyvern is corrupt. [image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Morganex Quill-Bearer Posts: 16 (11/21/01 11:25:07 pm) Reply Re: Ugh... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I's say it's more of a swish....cats have more expressive tails than dogs after all...... If I wanna groce out u boys I'll tell u a story about gelding one day. *giggles* I so adore watching males shrink into their chairs when i do that. What is it about males and geldin ?

Zool47 Elder Posts: 154 (11/21/01 1:55:59 pm) Reply Re: Ugh... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yours don't? ~Zool~ Elder of Elders, The Pen is Mightier than the Sword. Bard of Terra, Patron Saint of Aspiring Bards. Elder than dirt, more foolish than a jester, able to trip over the smallest logic in a single step. It's... Oh, you know.

Belizean1 Visitor Posts: 4 (11/14/01 4:07:38 pm) Reply Re: Ugh... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Cats wag their tales?