Valdar and Astralis

"Heee, Wyvren-that looks fun." The scarred elf grinned evilly at the trembling almost dragon tittering on the edge of doom. The Planewalker's ears were arched in amusement, but his ruby green eyes outright sparkled with hilarity. "Eehheheheh umm, Hi Valdar!" "'oi Wyvern." There was a brief flash above the payment jar and a tinkle of gold as several coins fell free of their pocket dimension. Unhurriedly, Valdar collected the balls and inspected them with a disapproving frown. Then he began to buff them against his cloak. "Ummm, look buddy, I know you still feel badly about those scars but-" "This has nothing got to do with my Pen application years ago, Lizard." "Oh, ok. Look, um-would you mind. . .I mean I have a thing about sting rays and whirlpools. . ." A Dorsal fin chose that moment to pierce the surface of the whirling water, and began circling ominously. "And sharks?" Wyvern whimpered and clutched the slippery rope. "y-yyy-es. couldyoupleasetakethemaway." Valdar's grin deepened and the world changed. The tank was gone, and the Mantas with them. In it's place, the gaping maw of a portal leading straight into the Abyss grinned back. Demon voices rose from the depths of hell and a blast of heat instantly boiled away the ale from the Elder of Initiates. "Yes." The word had no chance to sink in, let alone bring any relief to the terror stricken almost dragon before panic turned into abject terror. The grass skirt began smouldering in the otherworldly heat, smoke rising to join the Acrid stink of Hellfire. "Better?" Wyvern didn't reply. He didn't even whimper. Valdar drew back his hand, and cast the first ball. *BANG* A ball glanced off the dunking mechanism, jolting but not releasing the platform. The almost dragon squeaked. *THUNK* The second ball hit the rope, which was starting to smoke as well. Wyvern's precipitous perch wobbled. "Vv--vvaaaldar?" "Ya?" replied the elf, who had just speared the last ball on an ear. "W-ww--y are you doing this?" "That should be obvious. . .fun." The ear jerked forward, sending the ball spinning towards the Bull's eye with milimetric precision. It connected with a dull "Thud". The target twisted, disengaging well oiled bolts with it's torque. The Platform fell, and Wyvern's mouth opened in a scream that never came. *SPLASH!* Valdar turned away from the water tank, where Wyvern-and only Wyvern was floundering and gasping for air.

Avatars of freedom. . .that's got a nice ring to it Valdar grinned as he stepped into the wide gulf, sheathing his sword as he did. In the distance, tiny pinpricks of light illuminated the far trade routes as they approached "Tar Sigil" or "Lesser Sigil as it was called in these parts. A merchant outpost for interplanar travelers, very impressivley named, considering. . . The city was certainly ugly from a distance, and almost grotesque close up, having being hollowed out of a long dead Levethian sometime in the distant past. Already an ugly creature in life, death and subsequent disembowelment had not significantly improved it's appearance. A permament cloud of waste and refuse lingered in the weak gravity field, along with the not so occational corpse. Life is short on the Planes. Valdar stepped off his path and onto the main highway, allowing most of his more lethal defenses to fade in case some overladen merchant jostled him by mistake. He could sense the grail from here, but the random movements of merchant traffic had garbled the trail beyond hope. Hmm, where to start ** The guard blanched at the scarred apparition that reached up to tap him on his thick shoulderplates. "Have you seen this her?" it asked, the illusion of a dark skinned woman dancing on his outstreched palm. The watchman recovered quickly, and frowned. "Can't say she looks fammilar, Perhaps if you could provide a name?" "She may have given her name as Sherisseren of Tlenor" Guard shook his head again, "Ummm. . .sorry m'lord-dont remember any Sher's entering town in the past week." The elf nodded an ear, and vanished into the crowd. This is a disgrace, why'd they even hire mortal guards out here anyway? they can't remember anything past breakfast and the place is overflowing with disgraced celestials and- "Valdar!" The Planewalker's ears jerked in suprise, at the fammilar voice, and turned to it's source in astonishment. "Why Kitanue, I wasn't expecting to see you here." The angel returned his grin. She had changed little since Valdar had last seen her. She was beautiful, as all angels are, with lustrous grey wings that framed a voluptuous body. She was significantly better-endowed than a battle angel, and covered in barely enough black silk to obscure her assets. A young man stood impatiently by her side, whom Valdar ignored as she stepped almost toe to toe with him. "Nor was I. It's been a while, Shinyhunter, nearly fifteen years by the Anvil? what tempts my faviroute apprentice Planewalker back from the borderlands, hm?" "You, actually" he lied transparently. "Liar" she teased."Come visit later?" "Only if you've not raised your rates" She laughed, "For an old friend why not? I'll be at the Scarlet Feather after the Eighteenth hour." He nodded. Tugging a compliant ear down and kissing it lightly, Kitanue and her customer faded back into the busy street. * Grail. Right. It's definatley nearby, but to reveal my purpose would send every hero, mage, sorcerer and his one winged parrot after it. I need an Oracle to burn, or a gaggle of seers to bind. He settled on a score fortune tellers and a lot of gold. Contrary to it's name, the Four Winds was a stuffy little winehouse in one of the quieter quarters of Tar`Sigil. Carefully shielded against the foresight clouding effect of mana fluxes and drinking binges, the insulation had to be padded with focus-crystals and deja-vu absorbing paint. Finally, the unstable mass was sealed in anti-scrying matter. Overall, it had the appearance of a giant tinfoil egg. In fact, so much had been spend isolating the delicate clairvoyant fields from the outside world that little had been left over for simpler luxuries, such as. . . Say, air vents. Thus, the overpriced tavern where the forsighted of Lesser Sigil clustered to read patterns of fate had a decidedly rancid air about it. Valdar was impressed. The tavern was half empty by the time he got there, those with third sight of any clarity having long since retreated to their rooms. Even the Bartender, a particularly ignorant breed of Ogre shuffled uncomfortably behind the counter while removing breakables from sight. The fates tended to change wildly in the presence of Planewalkers, usually in the direction of a very messy death. ... So, Shinyhunter-business or pleasure first? He considered this a moment before replying, "Pleasure, of course." The Angel smiled, and handed him a glass before folding her wings and settling into a well worn chair. "Did you really push poor Asin`Hijah through the wall at the Four Winds?" A grunt. "He was being. . .stubborn. Just because I was the Dreamer's apprentice dosn't mean I go around burning prophets and Oracles, let alone waste power immolating petty fortune tellers. Well, not here", he conceded. "And I'm not even looking for prophecy, just a direction." "Oh? Direction to what?" "A shiny, of course! It's . . .it's. . ."shiny the elf trailed off dreamily. "Men are more free of tongue when tired, I noticed. Perhaps if I could know what it is you seek. . .?" She asked delicatley. "Oh, I didn't say already? it's the Grail! I never imagined it to be so shiny. From here I can feel it sparkling somewhere, and it passed through this reigon not too long ago but the tracks are too muddled for me to read." Valdar didn't notice the slight change in Kitanue's expression, her smile becomming slightly more fixed and her eyes wary. "Which grail is this? There must be dozens floating around the multiversum." "Hm? THE Holy Grail, of course. The greatest shiny in the multiversum" "Oh, _that_ Grail. Why'd you want it for?" Valdar's train of thought derailed rather spectacularly at this point. "Um. . .because it's shiny?" She began to laugh. "So, the newest Planewalker in the MUltiverse lusts after the one cup of power that will bring him glory. The chalice that so many others seek to rule chaos, bring back the dead, or any number of planeshattering reasons. . .because it's Shiny?" This line of questioning was starting to get emberrasing. "Well. . .ya I guess. The Dreamer needs it too, and I do owe him, but mmm, Shinyy. ." His eyes glowed happily. "Yer becomming more and more planetouched each day, Valdar." If that was a referrence to his growing power, or this obsession was not clear. After a long silence, she continued. "You said that you followed it here. Where did you track it from?" "Tlenor. Did you feel it blow up from here? There weren't two rocks one could stack on the other within a hundred miles of that place." Kitanue's expression became openly alarmed. "Tlenor? when?" "A month or two ago. The armies of law overran the place and the Dreamer blew it up-but not before the Grail escaped." "What!? but the Grail is. . ." She trailed off, realizing what she just said. It was Valdar's turn to be suprised, and both ears jerked to an upright position. He stared at her. ". . .still in the cloud, and has been two centuries." The angel finished softly.

omg, 'vark

How well do you compare to the master?

I'm with 'vark, and would probably fly into an insane rage and charge down the offender with my teeth. . .

So use it

My main gripe about the other chat systems was that they were too flashy and ate up a bunch of resources. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion however. I highly reccomend getting Trillian, from ceruleanstudios.com. It intergrates IRC, AIM and ICQ into one package. No more reason to favor one over the other, and dosn't eat up too much system power.

Try: http://irc.kharkov.net/cgi-bin/irc.cgi But galaxynet.org down for you? Now that is an unheard of problem. . .assuming reboot/modem switch off/on performed?

Z-Everyone else is still logged in, maybe change ports? I had a problem with Trillian a few days too, couldn't log in with port 6667. Try 6669 \x_x/ Too much time to learn? I'm afraid I dont see your point, but if you must: IRC is convinent, easy to set up, does not require registration and hosts chat rooms more easily (Q, etc). Aside from buddy lists, maybe, or unless you're into high tech video/voicechat, I dont see any reason why not. (edit)PS: I dont need to tell you all this, you were on irc a while back too ya?

Publicity stunt. . .the more outraged people get, the better-so the Omijuana board told them. Still, best to ignore them. It's a sad world we live in when negative publicity reaps more attention than positive. . .

Valdar was almost to his quarters when he felt a familiar presence moving about the Pen's compound. Ah, he's here after all. He stopped and turned, absently shifting his weight off a sore kneecap and covering the bloodstained hole in his trousers with a cloak. Causing some discomfort to nearby magically sentinent beings still in line, Valdar locked his ears in an expression of intense concentration as he isolated the Dreamer's signature in a noisy mana flow. Surrounded by a pale blue aura of undistilled mana from the nearby Astral, the Planewalker prepared to push himself outside time to translocate himself to within the general vicinity of the Dreamer. The arcane spell screamed with power, draining mana from nearby spells as it rushed towards it's climax. . . And then a ship ran over it. Valdar coughed and pushed himself out of the hole he had made in the ground, much to the amazement of the nearby survivors, an elf-shape of dirt and wild crackling mana. They did not recognize the out of control spell, nor did they have any chance of escaping even if they had. The broken spell of translocation exploded, ripping the ship apart, translocating random guests up and down the queue and causing several princesses to froak impolitley. Valdar stumbled past Knight back into the Immortal's queue and thrust an indiscernable piece of cloth that may or may not have been someone's underwear once into Melba's hands. Still trailing dust and stray mana particles, he stalked in past those staring in search of something to drink. . .

But enough Mountain Dew invokes a sugar high. . . Happy Birthday, X-Sabre.

"Are you immortal, sir?" "I'm not too sure, actually--kinda, I guess" "Sir, you're either immortal or not, now either show some proof, or get back in line!" "I've not died yet!" "I'm afraid that's not proof of immortality" "Fine. Shoot me" "What?" "I said shoot me!" *BOOM* "Nggghh" An uncomfortable and pregnent silence ensued. "Are you alright, sir?" "mrghhrrterrr" "What was that, sir? "Not. . .there" "I'm sorry sir, so are you immortal or not?" "It's growing back, isn't it?" "Very well sir, there's also the issue of entry fee" "gnrhgghhgit-whatisit?" She told him. "Well, you certainly ruined mine." An icy glare bounced off Melba's thick hide and froze one of the stone Gargoyles, which stiffened and fell to the ground with a crash. She, on the other hand mereley smiled sweetly and continued. "No boxers, no entry sir" Valdar sidestepped into the Astral and trudged his way back to his quarters muttering.

No paralell? maybe I'm off, since I'm from a completley different part of Asia, but wont 'mockery' be close? Or so it sounds to me. Like. . .mocking someone, but in a not-nice-way. And pshaw, The 3-number isn't _that_ bad!

Across the gulf of space and time, Valdar felt Tlaneor die. In the vaults of his mind he heard, a million voices crying out in agony- suddenly silenced, felt the force of the Dreamer's warcry, and paused for a moment. Wrath of a Planewalker indeed. . .I wonder what they did The trail fled before him as he picked up the pace, previous echoes of "Shinyshinyshinyshiny. . ." fading from the paths. He approached the broken worldwarily, unmasking his presence so not to alarm the Dreamer. Brushing aside an Astral crow feasting on a whiteclad bloody mass, gutted Tlaneor loomed before an awed planewalker. Shadowed shapes flickered around an ugly scar where it's planar structure had been breached, expelling several million tons of molten dirt and flesh into a bloody debris field around the world. Rivers of raw mana flowed through the translucent border between real and unreal, and down into a smoking desert of molten glass where proud Tlenor itself once stood. Where the Dreamer was. Valdar gently etched an eldrich rune against the boundary layer and entered a trance, leaving his body in a convinent kneeling position surrounded by defensive lattices while projecting his mind to the smouldering ruins below. Slowly, a black dot in the snow resolved itself into a castle of shadows, around which an army of crusading dead stood in silence. Valdar landed softly next to a black draped ghost holding a charred musket, and summoned his body while watching the Dreamer. The Dreamer did not seem to notice at first that his host had grown by one spectre, this one slightly less dead, preoccupied with a . . . shadow construct. An undead king to rule in this new outpost of the planewalker. The shade departed, and teacher nodded to student. "Impressive, ya?" Valdar could not but agree.

Waterlily-yes, though I think that monstrority has only been seen in irc, and the character description thread so far.

Happy Belated (my belated, your on time) birthday! *Leaves some wiggly easter eggs lying around for Gwai*

Like an avalanche of steel, the Runelord picked up speed as it crashed it's way after the Planewalker. Runes afire with immunity against lawful attacks, the Knight never noticed the black chaotic runes lying in wait until they crawled up into it's armor and itched like holy hell. Gasping with laughter and free at last from the trap set for his master, Valdar took to the inky blackness while the mighty arm of law screamed and scratched alone in the castle of birds. Knowing it was probably futile, the elf focused his power on the castle and invoked a word of power. The smoking ruin flashed white and exploded in a planar conflaguration. A bit of distance wont hurt now Valdar started running before the shockwave reached him. He knew the Runelord was probably not dead or even scratched, but he knew it would be irritated. If it would follow his muddled tracks would be a question only law could awnser- not that he had any compulsion to ask. Now new paths opened before him, and he turned towards the murky Veil. I'd better lie low for a while anyway, nevermind the pirates like me less than their least faviroute mother in law. He never made it. Halfway through the intervening Void, he crossed yet another path. . .and felt IT for the first time. Calling to him like it did countless others before like a siren atop a mountain of gold with it's song of power and glory. Entranced, Valdar stood frozen in mid-stride, ears twitching and eyes wide in awe amidst visions of lost crusades, holy wars and epic quests for the Grail. These, he ignored, for all all he knew, or cared about was that the brightest shiny in the entire Multiverse had come this way. As recently as two months ago. ". . .ooo. . ." So it began. . .the shinyhunt!

Skipping along the paths and whistling a nameless little tune to himself, Valdar very carefully followed the thin thread of burnt mana, the only trail offered from the dreamer's passing. That, and the omnious silence that is-most creatures had the sense to flee before Planewalkers. He had seen the castle of birds but once from a distance, not bothering to inspect this bastion of his former master. The prohpecy must have drawn him to consult with the birds- Except a ruin stood where the castle once clawed at the grey sky. Shattered towers lay twisted at odd angles, some crashing into broken walls, and where the door once stood, a gaping black maw now welcomed visitors to the abode of birds. The young planewalker screeched to a halt, ears flaring outwards to keep his balance and regarded the scene with calm green eyes. Smoke rose peacefully from several rents in the wall, and even from this distance the thick miasma of law filled the ether. There was also another track here, not left by the dreamer leading both to and away from the castle. He checked and reinforced his layered wards and approached warily, the whistling sporadic now. Landing lightly on a broken ramp, Valdar drew his unnamed angel blade. The taint was thick enough to walk on here, and his outermost wards creaked under the pressure as he ventured deeper. Climbing over the broken golem, he paused, feeling the oppresive weight of lawful runes on his ears - Runes of isolation. As if on cue, an impressive shadow appeared in the jagged hole leading to the next room. Valdar started backing away slowly and- Saw the Runelord. See him. The whistling stopped. Oh bugger... Even cracks on the shattered glass vanished under the Runelord's presence, and both stopped dead in their tracks. Valdar could feel it's brain working overtime with glacial slowness, trying to fit the second planewalker into it's pattern. WHAT THE? Valdar acted first, stepping into the knight's reach and lashing out with his own twisted blade, chopping open a knee before it's runes could adapt. Crystal bit into flesh with the torment of a thousand years. The Runelord screamed as it's blood was shed for the first time, even forming neat squares on the floor as Valdar fled. Then it gave chase.

Far away, Valdar capers happily along the lost paths, with a magazine tucked under his arm. A purple ear sticks out seductiveley on the cover before the Planewalker strides along to his next destination. . . >>>o_-<<<

Bad memories from youth are things to laugh about when old. Remember how earth-shatteringly important not eating vegies were?

The uncertain world shimmered, and Valdar awoke just in time to see a huge tusk descending on his unprotected head. This blow he barley avoided in an unnatural burst of speed, ignoring the horrible tearing sensation in the surrounding reality. He blinked a moment in confusion and leaped backwards with the same graceful movements, trying to classify this creature. Boar tusks, angel wings, insectile. . .head? It came crashing at him again and this time Valdar formed and let fly a rune, which hissed through the air to burn spitefully on the creature's thick hide. Enraged, the thing lashed out with a previously unseen tail, catching the elf in the arm despite his speed. . . .ok, scorpion stinger-and I'll need to take a look at this later Was there any weapon this creature did NOT have? Valdar stared in astonishment as it unfurled two gigantic crab claws from under it's wings and snapped them angrily. With some regret, the elf readied his own defenses--as much as he did not wish to destroy this world, if this creature was from the void as he suspected, it would mereley grow in power if he stepped outside. Green runes slowly resolved out of the ether, slithering around the translucent sphere surrounding him and his hands began to glow with power. The monster came again like some multipurpose walking nightmare, and Valdar stepped inside it's reach to touch the creature while his runes broke away to stop the claws. Screeching in pain, the creature fell back at the burning fingers raking it's flesh, leaving only the bleeding wound to remind Valdar to sidestep before- -The stinger smashed into the ground, throwing up a gout of earth as it did. Now he charged with a shout, green runes flashing yellow in an instant to flay the beast as the apprentice touched it again and again, this time wielding holy, and hellfire in either hand. Again, it fell back but on one side only, ignoring the hellfire and taking a chunk out of Valdar's shoulder. And then, to his suprise, it pulled off the mandibled helmet, revealing a vaugeley human face, however vauge drooling maggots and decayed flesh made it. Aha, a minor demon of some sort. . .or lost soul A shrudder of forbedding ran through the elf's body, and he wondered why he thought that. And then the thing spoke, like the last sigh of a collapsing corpse. "YIELD, SLAVE." "Who are you?" "YOU ARE NOT ME, BUT YOU ARE MINE" Well, that was enlightening "LOOK CLOSELEY. YOU KNOW ME. I WAS YOU." Valdar did, and a flood of half forgotten dreams flashed through his mind. “Tarsanis. . . What hath thee done, child?” The autumn leaves were falling in Dal`Morath, only not from Ti'Lauraene, the Mother Tree when Lauraeth stared down at the fallen angel amid the dancing shadows. Her once gentle face was now stern, and tired also. A great war had been fought, and the victors had returned to find their homes broken by an unholy scourge lain by a once-hero to the alliance, one long thought dead, but returned under the shadow. And the longest shadow lay on the once fair lands of Laurae where the leader of the scourge and his army of dammned sought to return his master to the living world. “What hath thee done, child?” The ancient face demanded of him. He moved unconsciously, calling on dark masters to aid him. Nothing. No rush of power, no gathering presence. “Have ye truly forgotten so much . . .” Already blinded in the blazing light, the fallen Archangel never saw the ground open up around him. He fell forever. The mind flickered, and returned to the battle. "Tarsanis?"

Score

This reminds me oh-so-much of Robocop. Definatley neato.

-Restarted 4/1/2004 And then he dreamed, dreams of the mad. "Thank you! Thank you my lord!" Weeping with joy, the Archangel cradled the empty spirit shroud against his chest. A torrent of newfound emotions rushed through his body, flickering wildly between terror, happiness, worry and joy under his master's steady smile. He had been chosen. Out of ten million Archangels, he had been chosen to bear the highest honor possible in the ranks of the celestial host, the right to bear a soul. Only heralds, or hands of gods were given such privilege, bestowing power on its bearer sentience, and emotion to act in compassion instead of a blind sense of honour and justice. The gift had a price, however. No matter how indominatable the will it can be twisted into darkness, unleashing an avatar of cruelty and sadistic terror through which an evil god may touch the living world directly. A long moment passed in silence while the Archangel wept before his master spoke kindly, "Do you know why I brought you back, Tarsanis?". He shook his head mutely, knowing fear for the first time as he recalled his last moments, angelic body breaking under a stinking tide of souls condemned by the great judge to eternal damnation. Then mind slowly grasping the concept of freedom, a question rose. "Master, why was there no help? The beacon was lit a week before the prison became unstable." A shadow passed over Saldan's fair face, and Tarsanis faltered. No longer a mindless servant but a willing companion, old habits were hard to break. "The watch was not kept, and there was none to be sent. The others had forsaken me, those who yet lived, and you are the last of my faithful." Tarsanis gasped, wild horror rising up his chest. "Betrayal? The kin turned against you?" The god nodded tiredly, and the Archangel felt hot anger for the first time, knuckles growing white in fury as the spirit shroud crumpled to dust under his grip. "They will PAY!" Saldan smiled wanly. "I can no longer touch the living world. The alliance is broken, and I am powerless." "Then send me, lord. Let me raise thy standard, and crush these traitors!" "All in due time, Tarsanis, all in due time. . . come, there is much yet to do." Another wild surge of ecstatic adoration, and a very confused elf awoke under an uncertain sun. *** Even the air felt unsure, and a mere breeze made reality shimmer. This world felt. . . fake. Incomplete, but already teeming with life. A simple stunning spell had very nearly torn the young magical field of this world, but more importantly, brought down dinner. Valdar had not risked unnatural fire, and lacking any knowlege of woodcraft, settled for tearing the bird of indiscernable origin apart with his teeth. If he got back to his world, he swore, he was going to learn to camp and cook. Leaving his body to the more mundane task of chewing tasteless meat, Valdar willed his mind beyond the walls of this reality and into the beckoning Astral. Adapting quickly to the psionic mindscape of the Astral, Valdar returned to the site of last. . . night's? battle. Almost all physical evidence of the brawl had long since been washed away, but the cerebral smell of mortal blood in the ether led him away from the main battleground. Shinnan had been injured here. Quickly brushing away several aggresive scavangers, the trail led to a small cluster of half eaten Angel corpses, and ended. He blinked, and backtracked a moment. After being separated, she had fled this way with injuries, turned and slain her pursuers, and then. . . vanished? The path she had taken was plain, and Valdar stood a moment at the end before a small movement in the physical caught his attention. Fluttering in the breezeless void, was a single leaf which he tried to grasp before realizing his body was back on some nameless world. At least she's not dead. . .but where did she go? He turned, and returned to his body.