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Falcon2001 Page Posts: 112 (11/14/01 10:47:36 am) Reply Ugh... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Those poor beleagured sheep...no wonder your armies don't increase.

ArawnD The Mad King Posts: 9 (11/14/01 10:07:49 am) Reply Horrible truth about Gelding. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a bright and sunny day.... err, no. It was raining (it's Texas after all) and I found myself sitting at my computer. I logged on to Archmage and figured to get a little researching done, but lo and behold I had too few turns, so I waited. Yes, I waited, for a loooonnnnggggg time. But that is not the point, but it was during this time to which I was staring blankly at the screen that I noticed something, the gelding option. Most of the time on the servers I rarely have use for the function as I usually get over 1/2 a million a turn, or sale useless items. Again I digress, it was funny as the word in itself, was alien even to my profound vocabulary. I was puzzled "I am puzzled,” I said, "Whatever could it mean?" I had always inferred that it meant, taxing or collecting funds. I'm one of those people that has to know the name of the song when it pops in your head, of figure what I did wrong on the test even if it's too late. Some call if being a "worry wart", others "perfectionist", my brother calls it "stupid", Anyway, I decided to get to the bottom of this "I must get to the bottom of this" I said, and ventured off into the black hole I call, "My bedroom" here one would find many wonders the overshadow those of the modern era, strange smells that come from nowhere, vanishing socks that never match. As it goes it would be a rather easy mission "This will be easy" I said, "A simple look-see in the dictionary and I may go back to my game." It seemed that fate was against me that day, that or it was a conspiracy against me, on the shelf there was no book. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" My shout echoed thought out the universe, okay the building which promptly was followed by shouts of "Shut-up!”“ What the #$@% is wrong with you?" and "If that's what you think, wait until the girls see it!" Uh, moving on I decided my search had come to an end, for like I said my room is a "Black hole.... hole! (Echo)" SO I went to the kitchen for a snack, although daunted I figured to renew my search after some "munchies". At this time the cat made himself be known to be hungry. It's not my cat, one day I left food out, he came and ate it, and now he never leaves.” Meow" Being the softy I am, I thought to feed the little furball first, as it is I went out to the front door with food tray in hand. There the wet little bugger sits wagging his tail rather impatiently. Sometimes really hate cats, they act like they rule the world, the only watching they do is the robber looting your house (Maybe a tale for later) and for some reason we still take care of them (wish I come back as a cat) As it was the fuzz started eating, while I mused what "gelding" could ever mean. Unfortunately, it was too loud the neighbor's little wanker of a dog comes around the corner. Now I hear that dogs and cats don't get along, but never have I seen it in action. The neighbor's dog is a small thing, like a poodle if you will always barking at night, I'd love to drop kick it onto a freeway, but am quite fearful of the owner (yet another story for later). Well, the cat caught sight of the dog, and a mad chase began, I thought the cat would fight the thing, they are about the same size, but instead they raced about the front yard. It would of been great if a car would of hit them both, two birds with one stone. Fate must really have it out for me, because as if heard the cat headed my way, I was frozen place as he pushed past me into the house, "Damn!" I shouted, then the dog "Double damn!" It's not a house cat, as I've seen the results of having house cats, hair gets into everything, on everything. Yuck! And now I had two fuzzy #$*@#$! inside doing hell knows what. Ugh, a bad day this was. Before I could enter the door I heard a yelp, and the mutt came back out! It dashed around the corner, hopefully going home, better yet an 18-wheeler. But the cat was still in there, "Triple damn!" I called out to him, but to no avail. And why should he come? He's been fed, and he's somewhere warm, maybe he stumbled into the "Black hole", but I figure with my luck he'll be okay. Having completed the task, I now was ready for my own feeding. As I made my way to the kitchen once more I stubbed my toe on something, it was the dictionary! Things were looking up, "Thing are looking up," I said, "now to find gelding" So I was once more moved away from the kitchen, (Luck I did there wasn't anything in there edible, or inanimate) well, I sat at the computer again, and clicked "refresh" I had built 3 turns, *sigh* but now the puzzled would end. I when into the dictionary, "G, Gilmore...ah, gelding!" It was then a silence came over me, at this point the rain had stopped, forming an eerie calm. There written ever so nicely it stated: Gelding, (geld'ing) n. A castrated animal, esp. a male horse. "NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" I shouted once more, the cat "meowed" and more shouts, "I said, SHUT UP!” "That's what your mother said!" and "Shut up or I'm going to kick the @#%! out of you!" At this time, I felt sick, and decide to go somewhere to eat and drink away my troubles. I showered and changed, and left out, only to come back home with everything wrecked, the cat got bored it would seem, but he did find the food. Did I say I sometimes hate cats? I started to clean. ============================================= The Mad King

Belizean1 Initiate Posts: 6 (12/3/01 11:45:38 am) Reply Re: Us -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *The child saw things. Things that no one else could even imagine...... each and every day he was set upon by these terrible visions. He was not sure if they were real, or imaginary. He hoped to God they were imaginary...... no one on earth deserved to see what he saw each and every day. He heard a creak behind him and froze. He shivered uncontrollably and whimpered. It was always cold before He came....... "Please, no.... please..... make it stop......" He whispered and promptly fainted.*

gwaihir1 Poet Posts: 46 (12/1/01 6:30:25 pm) Reply Us -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Male: Although I hold your hand, I don't think you've ever been farther away. I reach for you, I try to connect.... I can feel you, but you're just not there. Where did our relationship, where did we go? When did I lose you? Did I think that if I kept holding you, you'd stay? I can't do it, I've got to go. Female:Umm, babe, I was just trying to decide what to cook for dinner.

The Blind Seer Viewer (12/1/01 8:42:27 am) Reply . -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Personal Log -- 03.05.2415 We made planetfall at 0630 yesterday. Since then, the Lt. has had us digging perimeter trenches, and setting up spike walls. The local wood's a bit soft, and the ground's a bit hard, but we'll make do. If the Corps. wanted a bunch of whiners, we'd all be brass. It may seem strange, us using Roman field tech in a war that's tens of millions of miles, and three millenia, away from the empire--especially to the boys killing themselves in R&D back home. Out here though, you use what works, or you don't live very long. God, I hope I live through the night.

Jechum LoreMaster Posts: 189 (11/29/01 3:14:50 am) Reply Re: Almost a Very Short Short Contest -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- IT was behind them, never mind what IT was, IT was just there. IT had been following them for lifetime. Sprinting forward, they would crash through any and all obstacles in their path. They were only able to take short breaks to catch their breath and wondered what they would do if their companion was to fall. But IT would always come again! Their breath would quickly become demanding but thoughts of IT would inspire them to drive on. For IT is here and IT is there and IT can never be overcome by running away. For IT is fear.

Minta Rose Bard Posts: 38 (11/29/01 2:09:32 am) Reply Re: Memento -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Story hooks, every last one of these! Oh, this is tempting. --Tzimfemme, the Naked Mage

Ozymandias the Elder The Founder Posts: 167 (11/28/01 4:45:53 pm) Reply Memento -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ka-chink. Another round slides home into the chamber. I can hear my breath and my heart both hammering in my ears. I hate cliches at a time like this. All I can think of is every variation on the line "He could not believe that the loudness of his heart was not nearly deafening them as well." Well, all except for what I really don't want to think about. I wish I at least had some cover, or a friend.

Nyyark Visitor Posts: 2 (11/22/01 11:38:36 am) Reply a memoir -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I remember Clyte. He was one of my many crows, but it is for that I remember him. His dark black eyes, they were like the voids between the galaxies, starless and beautiful. I would often get lost in them, listening to his crowing. He would supply me with a sharp peck though, bringing me back to my sub-reality. Ah, I remember Clyte. He is one of the few that will never fade.

Zadown Bard Posts: 156 (11/22/01 11:21:57 am) Reply Short Contest Support - prelude to Nevermore -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It could feel another one growing inside him. A raven ... or a crow ... a dark one, this time. Bashing its eyeless bandaged head against the prison, clawing at the walls with bloodied fingers, it convulsed, a womb within a womb. I taste destiny changing. Both loathing and craving it crawled to the corner, leaving behind a trail of corrupted, already rotten blood. It rised a lead coin, stared at it from old habit and hungrily bit it. Just one more vision...

peredhil31 Elder of Lists and Manners Posts: 393 (11/21/01 7:01:43 pm) Reply Short Contest Support -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It is a hungry passion that burns my soul, my body, my mind. I look within, I look to the stars, I look to others to find The perfect understanding, the acceptance, the love I crave And yet in cowardice behind slick words I hide, I dare not brave The rejections of strangers which like a paper cut sting Far worse are wounds only a loved one can bring. Yet with all the potential for pain, hurt, and sorrow It is the chance of love for which I hopeful greet tomorrow. Love is worth any amount of pain To gain.

Minta Rose Bard Posts: 32 (11/21/01 6:38:22 pm) Reply Mythology -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I remember hyacinth and laurel if I concentrate. There is no wind here, only clammy chill, but shutting my eyes (to shut out the darkness) and breathing into my cupped hands, I remember warm breezes and the floral scents. Sometimes I imagined that I could still feel time pass—but no longer. I sigh into the remembered scents of flowers and fruit. Fruit? I pursue that scent, my feet and breathing muffled, blind but sure. The fruit burns my numbed nostrils, tantalizing. Something lives down here! My fingers reach up and find the smooth skin. Pomegranate. I am so hungry. . .

Zool47 Elder Posts: 153 (11/21/01 12:37:38 pm) Reply Re: Almost a Very Short Short Contest -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Whenever you're ready," he said with a lecherous leer. "Honey," she replied, looking him in the eyes, "I'm more man than you'll ever be and more woman than you'll ever get." Turning on her heals, she could almost feel the heat from his face as she walked off. ~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.

Haruchi Visitor Posts: 2 (11/21/01 8:49:09 am) Reply Almost a Very Short Short Contest -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I do hope I'm not out of line here, not that I'm much of a fan of lines, unless the line is a "Thin Red Line", or a line in the sand, or a line in a bar, or a line in a car, no I shall not define what I consider to be a good line. On second thought, just ignore all that. What I'm going to attempt is to start a Short Short Contest. In most areas flash fiction is deemed to be a story under 1000 words. For the purposes of this comp, though, it will be 100 words. The Winner of this prize will win something pretty useless, really. I wouldn't enter for the prize, myself. *rushes off to think of a prize* *rushes back* In fact, why not just consider this a floating of the concept, rather than an actualy competition. If enough people are interested, then perhaps it might be worth looking for a prize of some sort. *walks off - the urgency is kinda gone, now*

Katiya Damodred Initiate Posts: 6 (12/3/01 7:22:37 pm) Reply Re: Quick Question -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yeah, I know they are, put I was pretty sure you put it here, which is why I asked here. It is long, though...I know, I'll do it in installments. And thank you.

Zadown Bard Posts: 160 (12/2/01 7:18:42 pm) Reply Re: Quick Question -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Here. The Assembly Room is for stories. If the story is ready and really long, you could also post it in the Library. Queries like this are usually better posted in the Cabaret Room or, after you get to be a Page, in the member areas. Welcome to the Pen, m'lady.

Katiya Damodred Initiate Posts: 5 (12/2/01 7:05:19 pm) Reply Quick Question -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Several people have asked that I post this story I'm working on...where could I do that?

gwaihir1 Poet Posts: 48 (12/2/01 1:41:15 pm) Reply Vegaroth -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I think this will be the intro: It came out by accident. He would never have told me his true name if I’d just asked I think. We were sitting in his office, and he was telling me a story about his childhood, describing an incident in which he’d been accused of stealing a pie. He said that his mother had called out his real name, and he’d almost fainted terrified by such a portent. His mother had used his real name! How unwise! I was shocked. I didn’t mean to but I blurted out. “Your real name?!! Looking back, I’m amused that though I thought myself so grown up just to be listening to a story told by the man who was probably more important and powerful than anyone else in the country. I had no poise at all though. “Yes”, he said “Vegaroth”. I think I fell out of my chair. “I … I ….I just meant surprise that your mother used your real name aloud, Sir” He offered me his hand to get up. “I know, but you shouldn’t sit on the floor there, it has all sorts of nasty powders on it, you’ll have a hole in your hand.” “Sir, did you say what I think you did”? “My real name? Yes. Don’t go sharing it. I wanted someone else alive to know it just for safety’s sake in case I needed some sort of emergency help. You have the good sense, and aren’t important enough that people would suspect you of knowing.” Well, if he favored me so much, my future was certainly made. Sure enough, it was he who got me the command to go fight undead in Pagine. That was a horrible war, I’ve never hated anything as much. They don’t smell like dead bodies, they smell like someone’s thrown up the nastiest sort of mold imaginable. I still see them coming to give me their “hug” in my nightmares. Shudder. All the same though, it was a very honourable position, I gained much respect for having done it. I think it was when I came back from that campaign that he formally offered to let me be his Follower, one of the Forty. I came into the room to report to him, sweaty and dirty like you wouldn’t believe. Not any state that one should ever enter one’s lord’s presence in, but he’d sent a message ordering me to report the second I got back, and I did have pressing news. I entered the room and guessed there were about fifty people in there. Everyone looked at me as if I was expected, but with kind of a laugh in their eyes at my dress. I tried to retreat, horrified. He had seen though, and called me in. Nothing more embarrassing has ever happened, I could have preferred transformation into even Jello to that! I apologized for my appearance, but he did not answer instead extending his right hand. I, baffled gave him mine. He looked into my eyes and asked me if I would accept his mantle. Of course after that I bought a house in the capital so as to be closer to where things were happening. I had better commands, and the right to advise him on his most secret decisions. I remember that by this time people were always trying to make him tell someone his Name, telling him that he was old, he might get into an accident, and not be able to perform his own magic… For years and years he just been smiling when they said that, but one day when I’d been allowed to sit in that hall (the hall of the Forty, where he spoke) about six years he finally answered: “I told my name twenty years ago. The man I spoke to is still alive, he can hear me now.” The hall was in a whir. WHO? I think everyone in there was discussed multiple times, his main old timers were asked if they were the one until they were ill. The younger ones of us though were pretty quickly passed over. In fact, some came to the conclusion that it was not a member of the Forty at all, but someone who had been stationed in a hidden place purely to hear that statement.

Jechum LoreMaster Posts: 169 (12/4/01 11:26:01 pm) Reply Installment Two by Katiya Damodred -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Inatallment Two -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aleina swept down the hall, her eyes focused on the air above Hedrick the servant. He led her and her escort through several long, carpeted hallways and up a flight of stairs, stopping before two large doors made of redwood. “Here is your room, Your Majesty,” he said, indicating the doors. “The rooms for your men are there, across the hall. Food will be brought to you?” The last was asked, in case she shouldn’t want it. “No, Hedrick, I’m not hungry, thank you. I assume I will be breakfasting with Queen Edora in the morning?” The man shrugged apologetically. “Her Majesty has not left me orders concerning that, Highness. I wouldn’t know.” “Very well. If she does not extend the invitation, could you have my breakfast brought to me in my room?” “Of course, Your Majesty.” “Thank you, Hedrick. My compliments to you and the rest of the staff.” He bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He padded off down the hall, moving quickly and quietly as only a servant can. She turned to the guards. One fingered his sword, looking at her expectantly. The other remained as expressionless as a stone. “You have been a great help to me tonight, gentlemen. I thank you for it. You can go to your room, Thoraf, but I would like to speak with Maeus for a moment.” Both men bowed, fist over heart, then one marched off to his room. Guards always marched. The other, the expressionless one, followed her as she entered her apartment. Edora had gone to some length to decorate the room in Somelian colors. The carpet was red, and covered in the pattern called Taneran snowflakes (a maze of interconnecting circles) in gray and gold. The bed had a red comforter draped across it, and the curtains were gauzy lace, dyed red. The chest, washstand, bedside stand, wardrobe, and two chairs were all of redwood, like the doors. A lamp burning on the bedside stand made the room seem to glow. “Sit,” she commanded. He obeyed, his face reminding her of a stone. She herself sat in the other wooden chair, ignoring the plush red one by the wardrobe. “Maeus, what did you think of Edora tonight?” Maeus seemed to explode, his face turning as red as the rest of the room. “Gods, Aleina, can’t you see what the woman is trying to do? She’s going to get you to go after that bloody sword or whatever it really is, and use you to give her power! She thinks she can control you because you’re young and inexperienced. By the Light of Hamnan, you should be figuring a way to end this talk without offending her and get back to Somel as quickly as you can!” Aleina bore the torrent without comment, waiting until he blew himself out. When he was finished, she nodded. “I saw as much myself,” she said calmly. “Then why are you staying? You shouldn’t let her even think she has you, it gives her the upper hand….” “You’re wrong, Maeus,” Aleina said firmly, cutting him off. “It gives her a sense of false confidence. Let her think she can lead the bull around by the nose, and she becomes convinced the bull is tame. And then, when she isn’t looking, it bites.” She smiled to herself; it was an appropriate analogy. Maeus looked doubtful. “I still think there’s something we’re missing,” he said stubbornly. Aleina laughed. “Don’t worry, Maeus. Edora is a woman who refuses to see change, who can’t understand that a woman who has barely seen twenty-four years can lead a country as well as she who has seen fifty or however old she is. We’ll deal with her, I promise.” She smiled fondly at her childhood friend. Before she ascended the throne she had been a noble of high rank, the upper class of the upper class, her father being a close friend of Simone, the King of Somel then. When the civil war broke out, all the Houses turned against one another. Well, almost all. A few remained tied together, those houses that were so closely related by marriage and age-old friendship that nothing short of another Shattering of the world would break them. House Narashin and House Bavonine were two such. Aleina of House Narashin had always been a good friend of Maeus of House Bavonine, the son of the head of the house, Lord Markus Bavonine. When Simone was murdered, along with several high-ranking lords of powerful houses, Aleina’s and Maeus’s fathers among them, Aleina ascended the throne. It was not without a long, hard struggle, certainly, but with Maeus’s help and council, she managed. Maeus vowed to follow her, no matter what, even if it meant losing rank in his house. She had given him the position of Captain of the Guard, taking out two birds with one stone. She had Maeus there, to guide her and help her and back her up, and someone she could completely trust held the important position of Captain of the Guard. She took him with her everywhere, and valued his council more than that of her whole staff of advisors. “Not that there’s much ruling going on in Somel right now,” he muttered to the carpet. Aleina frowned. How that galled, to be ruling half-heartedly over a broken kingdom! She simply had to find a way to settle this war! City-states were uncalled for, they bred rebellion and disagreement, and though they talked of having a ruler to oversee them, it was just talk. Every country that had been made up of city-states had eventually fallen, long before others ruled by monarchs. She knew this, if she could only find a way to make them see it! She had to reunite her country. If what Edora talked about WAS the Sword of Hamnan…but she would not think about that. “Enough of dismal talk. I suppose we’d both better get some rest, Maeus, it’s late. I suppose I’ll see you in the morning?” “Thoraf and I will take turns guarding your door,” he said flatly. “Since I’m here, I’ll take first watch.” He rose and bowed, his warm brown eyes never leaving her face. She smiled. “Of course.” “Sleep well, my Queen,” he said softly, then turned on his heel and walked out. Aleina stood staring after him for a long time. She had contemplated about him loving her often enough, and each time had discarded it. They had known each other for years and he had never said anything about it. And yet there were times when the things he said, the things he did, made her think he meant something more. She had always thought him a good friend, like a brother, but sometimes…. “Aleina, you’re too old for fancy, little girl thoughts,” she said firmly. “You must get some sleep, you need to think clearly tomorrow.” She pulled the strip of cloth out of her hair and doubled her hands behind her back to unbutton the dress. She hung it in the wardrobe, and then climbed beneath the covers clad only in her shift. The Queen of Somel blew out the lamp and snuggled down into the bed, sleep already claiming her.

Katiya Damodred Initiate Posts: 9 (12/4/01 3:45:57 pm) Reply Katiya Damodred's Untitled Opus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The carriage door opened and the Lady poked her head out, looking around. She grimaced as freezing rain patted against her bare face; she hated rain. A thick blanket of clouds, obscured by night’s shadows, hid the stars that should have shone. Street lamps that had been lit for hours flickered fitfully in the icy autumn wind. Sighing resignedly, she stepped down, drawing up the hood of the fur-lined cloak even as it fell about her thin shoulders. Her bodyguards (only two, she didn’t dare presume any more than that), moved in to flank her. They both wore plain gray cloaks embroidered with a crimson charging bull on the left breast. Their swords clanked mutedly against their legs as they walked. The Lady paused at the foot of the steps, to gather herself. She smoothed the burgundy silk underneath the cloak and composed her face to regal smoothness. Then, just as if she were in her own palace, she ascended the stairs. Heavily carved golden doors, doors she had always found a trifle gaudy, swung inward silently as she approached. The two bodyguards didn’t bat an eye, but the Lady arched a skeptical brow. Those doors opening apparently by themselves just as she walked up made two things very plain, at least to her. One was that, somehow, Edora knew her every move, even now. The other was that the always-levelheaded ruler of Tanera had acquired some flare for the dramatic. She filed it away in her mind. A servant in green and gold livery met her in the main entry hall as soon as she walked through the door. Without a word, the man bowed, then turned and led her silently to the throne room. The guards stopped three paces form the throne, but the Lady herself didn’t stop until she was at the foot of the dais. She spread her skirts wide, but kept the curtsy shallow, a bare bending of her knee. “Edora,” she said respectfully, if not quite formally. “Aleina,” the other monarch returned just as respectfully. The Lady, Aleina, thought she detected a hint of frostiness in that greeting, a thing she didn’t remember. Even at night and with Aleina’s unexpected arrival, Edora, Queen of Tanera, was the picture of grace and serenity. She was clothed in a gown of green velvet, with golden scrollwork up the sleeves and across the bodice. The crown of golden morning drops, centered with the green-banded heron of Tanera, nestled on her mass of dark curls. That surprised Aleina. The crown was only worn on ceremonial or extremely formal occasions. She hardly considered arriving in the dead of night, cloak dripping with rainwater, formal, even if it was a meeting of two queens. The only conclusion she could draw was that Edora was trying to make her see who the real queen was here, that she had power. Overall, Aleina was not impressed. “Hedrick,” Edora said to the servant kneeling beside the dais. He rose, looked at her expectantly. “Take Her Majesty’s cloak.” Aleina calmly swung the dripping thing from her shoulders, using the motion to mask her irritation. She had noted that faint mocking tone in the other woman’s voice when she had ‘Her Majesty’. She handed the cloak to the man graciously, almost ostentatiously so. Upon receiving his burden, he bowed his way out of the throne room. Edora critically eyed the young queen of Somel up and down, taking in her burgundy dress, suitably high-necked and made of silk. She noted the absence of scrollwork, noticed the only decoration the dress seemed to have was a bit of gray embroidery around the neckline. The woman’s fine dark red hair was left to hang loosely about her shoulders, pulled back from her face by means of a wide burgundy strip of cloth. Aleina did not flinch beneath that cold, considering blue-eyed gaze. She took the scrutiny, staring the elder woman down with eyes of green ice. Her hands remained at her sides, completely motionless. Behind her, she heard the soft hiss of steel against leather, as if one of the guards had loosened his sword in his scabbard. With iron self-control, she managed to not tighten her mouth in vexation. She kept her face smooth, impassive and cool as a frozen pond. Finally, Edora spoke. “What brings you here in the dead of night?” There was a faint pause at the end, an unspoken ‘child’ ringing in the air. Was everyone trying to get under her skin tonight? “You told me to come as soon as I could, regardless of the hour. I regret that it is so late, but I left as soon as I received your summons, and you know it takes several days to reach the border of Tanera from the Saretheon Palace.” A momentary pause, then, “Of course.” Aleina nodded, carefully not showing anything on her face. The woman was trying to gain an advantage, trying to put Aleina off balance with her considering stares and weighing questions. And then there was the feel of mother to child, a child playing at being adult. Aleina would not, could not, let it get to her. One could never see, think, or move clearly if one’s emotions were all in a jumble. She kept a tight lid on her emotions; politics came first. “I sensed your summons were of great importance, Edora.” “More than you could possibly understand.” Another pause. “Our countries have always been allies.” “Of course,” Aleina replied, seemingly not at all surprised by this sudden change of topic. ‘Our countries’, not ‘we’. So Edora wasn’t ready to see Aleina as an equal, didn’t fully trust her. It was a small comfort, one she should take no pleasure in, should simply use it. She felt a little guilt that it gave her a warm glow inside. It was always inside, never any outward emotion. Edora was watching. “Tanera and Somel, working together, always helping on another in time of need.” “IT has always been so.” Aleina made the appropriate responses, made her mouth move while she tried to see where the elder woman was going with this. She must want some favor, else she wouldn’t have spoken of helping. Edora may have had the years and experience, but politics had been bred into Aleina practically from birth. She knew how to see past deceptions, flowery speeches, and empty promises. She could run circles around other rulers, and Edora was no different. “Yes, it certainly has. There has never been a need to question that alliance- even in the midst of the great Dragon War, when all other countries abandoned their ties to one another for self-preservation, we stayed together, and came out virtually unscathed.” Here she looked over at Aleina, seeing if she had missed that small insult, that small hint. Aleina remained expressionless. Of course she hadn’t missed it. I won’t rise to the bait, she thought savagely. Abruptly, Edora switched topic. “Something has come to my attention recently. An object, obviously of great power, has been discovered deep in the Caves of Desna. The miners there came across it while digging for more iron. It appears to be a word, but a sword of molten fire.” She shook her head, undoubtedly wondering how such a thing was possible. She went on, studying Aleina’s face carefully. “Many propose that this is the legendary sword of Hamnan.” Without missing a beat, Aleina said coolly “Legend says the sword is silver.” “Much can change in the course of three thousand years. Legend also says Hamnan decided to unmake the sword, fearing it to be too powerful an object to be left lying about. In case it should fall into the wrong hands, he cast it into the mouth of a great volcano, and there was a great flash of light. He returned to his kingdom then, believing the sword destroyed.” “You believe differently?” Edora leaned forward on the throne, deliberately ignoring the question. “Shortly after that, the Shattering. Nations destroyed, continents appearing and disappearing, the seas rising and falling. In one last attempt at victory, the evil dragons, together with the Dark Mystics, called down the Power of Heaven to shatter the earth. Of course, all was destroyed, including their strong armies. “I know the legend, Edora,” Aleina said calmly. “What does this have to do with the sword?” “Just this. The volcano erupted, spilling lava across the land. Then it collapsed in on itself, flattened out into a low mountain. Others rose beside it and created the Desnian Chain. The lava hollowed out the ground beneath, creating those caves we know as the Caves of Desna.” Her voice was low and intense. “Isn’t it possible that the sword was not destroyed, merely returned to its original state? And it went with the lava, coming to rest in the newly formed caves?” Aleina pretended to consider. It was nonsense of course, but if Edora believed it…perhaps there was something to be gained here. “I suppose it’s possible,” he said carefully. “But, forgive me, how is this relevant?” Edora sniffed haughtily, straightening in the same motion. “Can’t you see the benefits the appearance of an object of legend would bring?” Strike now! “Benefits for whom, Edora?” Aleina asked coolly. “Yourself, your country?” Edora’s beautiful face, normally a golden color, turned a delightful shade of plum. Her sapphire-blue eyes caught flame and burned. Aleina suppressed a giggle. The older, more experience ruler had made a crucial mistake, had given was to anger and lost her composure. With visible effort, she regained control of herself, but her eyes still smoldered. “Benefits for everyone, Aleina. It could even restore order to Somel, if such a thing is possible.” It was Edora’s return blow, hitting Aleina full in the stomach. She was, of course, referring to the chaos in Somel, ripped by civil war. Two opposing factions were at the root, one wanting a nation of independent city-states, overseen by a king or queen, the other wanting the king or queen to rule over every city, town, and village within the Somelian borders. Brigands had taken advantage of the chaos, looting and burning everywhere they roamed. Her country was near anarchy, she herself gaining the throne when the old king was murdered. She hung onto the Throne of Waves, quite literally, by her fingernails. What would she give to have her country back in order, to have the throne even remotely secure? Would she stay and listen to whatever hair-brained scheme Edora could cook up? The safety and preservation of Somel came first; whatever it took, she would look out for herself first, her country second, and nothing else mattered. “What are you proposing? Will you go after this sword?” she asked. Edora narrowed her eyes, chewed her bottom lip. She simply sat there, the silence stretching. Finally, she stood up, briskly clapping her hands. “These are things to be discussed in the morning. I took the liberty of having rooms prepared for you and your men. Hedrick will show you to them. We will talk more with the sunrise.” The audience was over. This time, Aleina did not curtsy. She simply nodded to show her understanding, and then quite deliberately turned her back on the Queen of Tanera. She glided away, the guards turning with her as she passed between them. Edora watched the girl go, a child pretending to be queen. Any child needed a firm hand, a mother to guide her, to reprimand her when she misbehaved. Edora planned to be that mother, take advantage of her close relationship with the girl to control her, take the petulant child in hand and discipline her. She would rule two kingdoms, one openly and one through her “daughter”. “A child,” she said quietly, firmly. “But a dangerous child, I think,” said her companion. Edora shifted on the throne as the man came out from his hiding place, the shadows of the grand columns that lined the throne room. He didn’t look like the sort of man who would lurk in shadows, and his appearance continually surprised the queen, though she had known him for years uncountable. He was a tall man, well built, with shoulders as wide as any blacksmith’s and rippling muscles, despite his wavy black hair had become increasingly silver-streaked over the years. He had a strong jaw line, a hooked beak of a nose, and sharp, calculating gray eyes. Most women found him attractive, and not just for his looks; he was also very rich. Edora sometimes wondered why she had never considered him as a possible husband. “Dangerous?” she sniffed. “She’s a girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing.” He laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that matched his voice. “You’re a fool, Edora, especially if you think you can control her that easily.” She smiled wryly. He always managed to do something to remind her exactly why he wasn’t her husband, other than the simple reason that it wouldn’t be politically sound. “Oh?” “Anyone can see which of you is more skilled at the Game,” he said dryly. He was referring to politics, or course, sometimes referred to as the Game, because that was how nobles saw it. It was a dangerous game to play, maneuvering people as pieces on a board, trying to outguess and outplay the other person. “She was taught to weasel from birth,” Edora said defensively. She winced when she heard her whiny tone. Whiny? Queens were never whiny! “It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving a hand as if to brush away unimportance. “She can outplay you, or anyone, for that matter, and that makes her dangerous.” “Even you?” He narrowed his eyes, a wolfish smile framed by imposing black moustaches playing on his lips. “Perhaps.” “Do you think she’ll take me up on my offer?” she asked. He frowned, absently thumbing a large ring on his right hand. “It’s hard to be sure. She has the skill, but lacks the experience to put it to any real use. Do you know how to get a child to do what you want?” Edora blinked, wondering where that had come from. Taking her silence to mean no, he went on. “You can’t force them to do something, because they dig their heels in and sullenly refuse. You can’t yell at them because they become hurt and nurse a grudge against you. What you must do is offer them something they want, then persuade them to do you a favor in exchange for that precious thing.” “And you’re saying this is how we’ll use Aleina? What would we offer her?” He smiled again, a feral smile that made Edora unconsciously sink back into her throne. “You truly are a fool, Edora. Listen to my plan.” She did, leaning forward as he explained it. By the time he left by means of a secret passage, she was feeling much better about the girl. Much better indeed. (This is what I had on my application, so it's nothing new.) Consolidated for ease and excellence in reading by your friendly neighborhood Eldership. Edited by: peredhil31 at: 12/5/01 3:17:22 pm

gwaihir1 Poet Posts: 54 (12/9/01 4:46:23 pm) Reply Re: Reformed Part I -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So, I’ve just called in to say I couldn’t come to the meeting, they won’t mind. Do you want to come to my rooms to talk? I can tell you every thing then.” I told him my story, he stopped me when it came to the army of birds. “How long could he keep them in control, before he had to set them on something?” Do you know what he planned/plans to do with them? I guess I just hadn’t let myself think about that side of it. “If he hasn’t used the birds yet, and I guess I’d have heard if there were any such wars going on, he has six months more before they get completely out of control, and become a danger to him too. He knows that too, I told him so when I gave him them to him a couple years ago.” “ That’s what I feared. *pause * How to say this... *sigh * I need to ask a favor of you, if I may. I’m fighting a couple men, that man, Thurga, is one of the main ones. They know that my leadership is one of the things that is binding our side together, and have assassins on my trail all the time. Can you hide me for a few days?” Obviously I agreed. “What can I do to help this cause sir”? “We know that Thurga has been enhancing his birds. We’ll want lots information from you, about them, but half of it is wrong now. He couldn’t have summoned them himself, I don’t know of anyone alive who can go as deep into the ambient as you can. However, he can and has been making them much more deadly. Many things about the birds are being changed just so that the birds won’t have all the same weaknesses they had when you knew them too. You can help us some, by using your office to influence things in the right direction, but most of all we need your magic. Think of how we can combat these things. Don’t stay here too long, or they’ll guess that you had other reasons for canceling that meeting. You go back, do your job, and if you don’t mind I’ll go putter in your lab. You do have one in your house right”? … In my work now, I still try sometimes to find the positive in the ambient. I feel as if it should be there, at least a bit. So, now turning my attentions to the best way to beat those things becomes pretty unfun. I guess when things come down to facing, heck fighting, my past it’s naturally hard. Zorath says that I’m delaying, indulging myself by working on the ambient, when I should be figuring out what we’re going to do. He might be right too. … Weeks pass, still I haven’t had a break through. Zorath’s reminders are getting more and more urgent. I feel really pressured. I think I have some kind of psychological block. Something in me doesn’t want to succeed. What am I not seeing? … Maybe we become too comfortable. Even fighting for one’s life can become a routine. I came home a little early today, went into the lab to say hello to Zorath. A thug was standing over him, and just as I entered, he slammed him in the face with a club. He crumpled backwards. “It’s all right Tergo” he said. “It’s okay, we’re okay. Just go in and turn around.” I ran toward him, but when I got there he was clearly dead. Realizing that his cryptic last message might well be urgent I looked around. What could he have been referring to? The closet! I’m glad I thought to put up a few spells before I looked in. Six men were in there, preparing to rush out and attack. Shall we say that for a little while I was too busy to mourn? It was just such a weird relationship. For twelve years I was his student, worshipping the ground he walked on most of the time. I got angry, left, and refound him, just to have in die in my personal lab at the hands of some thug two months later. … The deadline quickly approaches, we have many reports of the gathering army. It will be SOON. I really feel sidelined in this effort though. Everyone would love it if I came up with something, but no one trusts me at all. I’m a Paul figure. If I’m the one who saves this thing, I guess they’ll trust me, but they’re suspending judgement ‘til then. Having to fight to even learn what’s going on is so the last thing I needed, on top of Zorath’s death, on top of all this pressure. … Am feeling very frustrated. I just can’t figure out why nothing I do works. Am going back to the experiment I was working on before Zorath walked back into my life. Working with the blocked ambient. … Even that though isn’t working well. I have to try something. If anyone finds out that I’ve tried it they’ll never trust me again, they’ll think I’ve gone back to them. I’m not though, I know what lies down that path. I’ll have to do in the lab at work for safety’s sake. I should be able to reblock the ambient in less than five minutes. I can only pray no one comes in before then. … I’VE GOT IT, I’VE GOT IT. MY GOD I’VE FINALLY GOT IT. We’re saved. I was about to reblock the ambient, and back out. My idea hadn’t worked. Someone came in. Disaster had struck, I was lost. I was so surprised/scared, that I spun around to see who it was without first backing out of the ambient. The black hole that I knew so well, had delved into so often was still there, but from this angle I could see something else a way beneath it. A grey door/hole Suddenly I remembered “It’s okay, we’re okay. Just go in and turn around.” He hadn’t meant the closet at all! How like him that although he was dying what he was really thinking about was his discovery. I’m kinda glad I didn’t get what he meant though. Not only did it save my skin, but because I got to make the discovery on my own. God I wish he could have seen it though. He never saw me really succeed at something besides black magic. It turned out that my interrupter was one of my colleagues I respected most. I asked her to come look at this with me. I saw immediately that if I made sure my first entry into this grey place was not alone, there would be a lot less ways to accuse me of turning back. Also, well maybe I was kinda scared of being caught by a new danger. I was like a person who avoids drink, because he can not restrain himself. I was afraid that if this new place was dangerous, that I would be too easily sucked in. … This place is what I’ve been looking for all these years. Well, it’s close. The flowers I pull out are wilting, unhappy, mostly dead things, but they’re not dead They can be saved. Something can be created out of nothing. With a little practical tending these flowers live. Just as the things I pulled from the black hole had their taint, that power to make everyone feel a little worse, these have their taint too. They don’t really make you feel any better, but they make you a little more powerful. Your enchantments last a bit longer, you can go deeper into the ambient etc.… It’s just what we need. On an immediate level, emersion in this grey opening will give us the wherewithal we need to fight those things off. The bird I pull out of my opening may not be as dangerous or as strong as what Thurga has from his hole, but mine improves with care, while his only gets more unruly. I didn’t tell him when I gave him the birds, though I guessed, but it looks like his birds don’t gradually snap, instead they gradually get less and less useful, and cohesive until their final end. This means that all his delay has dug his own grave, no matter how improved his birds are, they can’t but be much weaker than when I first gave them to him. Now I have forces of my own, I have no worries. On a more long term level, we have found a whole new world. This opening is not perfect; nothing comes out quite right. We have reason to believe that emersion in this grey stuff, though giving immediate strength makes one exhausted later. No matter, I can pay back tomorrow the strength I need today. I can pull out an imperfect copy of almost anything out of that grey ambient. There’s no limit on the effects of that. It’ll never be a source of everlasting wealth, because many of my creations take almost as much work to fix/save as they would have to make. All the same. Of course, my utter joy is not completely selfless. No one else can delve into this stuff as well, no one has had the background to do so. I have spent my life looking for it, I am as experienced in the black ambient as anyone alive, but I am not sucked into it anymore. This world is my world. So, I’ve succeeded, that doesn’t mean I’m done working though. I will explore the ramifications of this new place, but also I will look for a white door. Doesn’t there have to be one somewhere?

gwaihir1 Poet Posts: 51 (12/6/01 1:10:39 pm) Reply Reformed Part I -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Don’t tell him that! He once used to care about me. I wouldn’t have him know how low I’d sunk. Don’t tell him please! The old fellow looked at me and smiled kindly, and then …I recognized those eyes. … A young man who appears to be about twenty walks into a room. A man of about forty is sitting behind the desk, upon seeing his visitor he speaks. “Tergo, what did I tell you? I think I remember saying pretty clearly that if I heard you were using those methods again, you’d leave my lab.” “Sir, I wasn’t going to tell you yet, I was going to wait until I had a neat copy, but sir I’ve finally succeeded. My methods may not have been the best, I admit it, I’m sorry. Doesn’t it at least partly excuse me that I succeeded though”? Even as I said it I knew it didn’t to him. I hadn’t been Zorath’s student for twelve years to not know that. I didn’t guess his reaction at all though. “NOOOO! I thought I’d made you understand, success just isn’t what matters most. It also matters how you do it. I warned you last time.” “Sir, all of the others my age have gotten at least partial success in what they’re doing. Fenth in summoning magic, Char in transmogrifying, Shey in illusion etc.… I just wanted to prove that I wasn’t a failure. Anyway, what’s wrong with my starting by first shaping the ambient? You just don’t give enough information. All rules, that’s all! If I can’t shape here, others will let me!” I think he’d underestimated my persistence ‘til then. He called me back, tried to talk. I was furious, sure I knew what he’d say. How could he just dismiss my work, the best thing I’d ever done?!? … How did I so quickly turn my back on everything I’d ever known? Ahh naiveté! I soon learned that none of the sort of people I considered respectable shaped the ambient without first blocking off the room. I just couldn’t get the results I was working on if I did that. No one really told me why I couldn’t do that with them. They just asked me what I’d done as Zorath’s student, and when I told them they didn’t hire me. Then a little guy who’d been the secretary taking notes during one of my failed interviews tugged on my sleeve as I walked out. “They may be too stubborn to shape, unable to see, but there are some of us who do.” I was horrified at his little back-room apparatus, and it’s unsafe nature, but no one else wanted me. I accepted. As I left he told me that if I mentioned any of this to anyone I’d be arrested. If I tried to tell anyone about what he was doing, he had enough evidence from my own mouth, to take me down with him. Talk about alarming! It hadn’t even occurred to me that what I was doing was illegal, let alone how much trouble I was in. My perception changed. I soon began to realize that my opening into the ambient, that I had used to think of as a darkly colored door, was nothing of the kind, it was a black hole swallowing me up every time I entered. Never quite spitting all of me out. That night, in the little hole that was my room, I was awake pretty damn late trying to think of a way out. I thought about skipping town, going to find a more reputable job in another city. It was a great idea, there was just one little flaw, I hadn’t succeeded in anything else. I couldn’t get a better sort of job. I almost did the prodigal son, and went to Zorath begging. I wish I had. I had too much pride then, I still didn’t realize how lost I was. So I worked there, on illegal magic. Creepy stuff happened, people ‘disappeared’, one learned not to ask. Every night I went home, to my books, and secretly practiced the more acceptable sort of magic. I didn’t like my job, but I was making new discoveries. Wouldn’t have minded it, but gradually I began to realize why most eschewed the stuff I did. When I started working on shaping the ambient around me, I had only seen where I wanted to go. Now, looking around I saw where such work actually did go. I saw scumy stuff that was a side effect of my work. I saw that its fumes made me people angrier, more depressed and viscous. I realized that I couldn’t succeed the way I thought I could. Some things one can pull out of the ambient, but some not. If you pull a flower out of there, it always arrives dead. The only bird one can get is bad enough to make a flock of vultures turn tail and run, puking . It was too late now. I had a bad rep, when I went into decent firms, and applied, they just looked at me and shook their heads. No turning back, the Rubicon lay far behind. Still though, I didn’t feel any better about what I was doing. I using my work lab for legal experiments, on the sly. Finally I used my skills to create some villain an army of those atrocious birds. In turn he got me a very nice government office. I like to think that since then I’ve reformed. The people who bought me my job are disappointed in me. I can walk into the any social circle in town, and be smiled at. I always block off the room before shaping now. Still though people know how I got to where I did. The sort of people I respect most, don’t trust me. The worst part of it is that I don’t blame them. Today that man stopped me on the street, asked me to come with him into a tea shop. I have about a hundred pages worth of papers for a meeting in an hour, so at first I wasn’t very interested to hear a stranger blather. Particularly when he started by asking if the rumors he’d heard about me were true. I always make it a policy to avoid such questions. Lying isn’t very believable at times, but telling the truth is much worse. I looked at my watch. “Sir, I can’t stay and talk, as much as I’d like to, can you tell me who you are, and unless it’s an emergency maybe you’d like to leave a message with my receptionist? He laughed. “Emergency? No, not that. As to who I am…” He looked around hesitantly, and then leaned towards me. “I’ve been lying pretty low recently, but say that I know Zorath, he asked me about you… You won’t answer me though, so I’ll just tell him the rumors I’ve heard. “Don’t tell him that! He once used to care about me. I wouldn’t have him know how low I’d sunk. Don’t tell him please! The old fellow looked at me and smiled kindly, and then …I recognized those eyes. To hell with the meeting!

Falcon2001 Page Posts: 141 (12/12/01 4:38:02 pm) Reply Re: I like it -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Celes - Yes, I know that girls melt...believe me, I'm working on one right now...actually just ask around and you can find out most of the story. Andrea - I'm sorry Andrea, I wrote it about Jessa. Yeah, sure, like that would ever happen, you know who it's about, girl

andrea hawk Visitor Posts: 3 (12/8/01 12:49:28 pm) Reply I like it -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey Will... that's cool! Another masterpiece... I really like it!! hehe... who's it about

Lady Celes Crusader Initiate Posts: 20 (12/2/01 10:35:51 pm) Reply Re: Sorry, P, she's all mine... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My... you could tame any girls's heart by saying that she have the face of an angel and the beauty of a dove. (yes, lots of girls are still melting when they are complimented this way)