Finnius

Ok, so Aspereta is this really cool and addicting sprite-based MMORPG. Totally free, as it is in Alpha testing, and also insanely fun. Here's the main page. So come one and all, try it out! My ulterior motive? I need ten members to form a guild! Exclamation point! Edit: Forgot to note, if you decide to create an account and want some help, message me with /tell Natayu... yeah, I bastardized my own story for a name. Sue me.

*snuggles Ayshela and gives her a dozen or so codeflowers*

On my back and in the sun, Looking out my window pane, Talking, laughing, having fun, Music in your tones refrained. Embauchure of lips and tongue, Sparkling music in your eyes, Light and beauty being sung, In every breath and every sigh. And when the conversation's done, And there I lie still safe and warm, A little colder shines the sun, Until our hearts are one in form.

I sit and listen to the sounds, Of sighs and laughs, of smooth vibration, The words caress like tribulations, And draw me from my stomping grounds. And light I see, in waves of words, A soul revealed through conversation, The magic transubstantiation, Of soul and heart to vocal chords. And letting down my mask of lies, I show my heart to you, my dear, Bereft of nervous, troubled fear, I show the love that's in my eyes.

The stone floor was cold against Hryn's cheek. He focused on the sandstone... trying vainly to remain conscious while images flitted through his brain one after the other, blinding his eyes and filling his ears with thunderous noise. His nose trailed blood across his lips, the salty tang caressing his tongue. Hryn shivered and held his head, then slammed a fist against the floor. An aerial view of Hammerfall, the smooth granite towers rising majestically into the air. The view drops drastically, spinning to focus on Hammer Keep, and a man in blue robes staring out into the night air, eyes fixed on the Falls, and the majestic stones upon which the water crashes. He stretches his arms wide, closing his eyes, and tiny droplets of water lift off the ground, forming softly vibrating puddles in the air... the clouds above roil and bubble. A flash of lightning throws a harsh light over the scene, and the view pulls back, into the clouds and then above them. A storm swirls around Hammerfall, a spinning circle of gray funneling down and centered on Hammer Keep. To the west, a smaller piece of the storm breaks off, moving north and growing in size. Even from this distance, immense bolts of lightning color the sky with purple and blue. Hryn felt a shiver in the back of his mind, a cold detached fear like the gnaw of three-day hunger. His eyes seeped tears, mingling with the blood from his nose. The flashes continued. A floating eye, a view from behind a cloaked figure bobbing and weaving through throngs of people in the packed streets of Hammerfall. He wears a brown cloak, with a hood pulled up over his face. His steps are light and easy, a trained step... he slips through the crowd without once making bodily contact. A soft rain slicks the cloak to his body as he slides his hand easily into the pocket of a well-dressed individual... there is something pocketed, and the hand returns with a fat purse. The man in the cloak nods shallowly to the other, and then turns to head back down the street. As he goes, the hood of the cloak flares out slightly, revealing a youthful face framed by dark hair... a face with jet-black eyes. Hryn gasped and spasmed... whatever this thing was, it had just shown him Gavin. Although, how Gavin had gotten to Hammerfall was beyond Hryn. He pushed himself to his knees, his body trembling under the weight of the visions being forced into his head. Hryn lifted his head, his eyes twitching, and then shuddered as yet another wave hit him. Three men kneel on the edges of a dark circle, their heads raised to look at a white-haired man standing in the middle. All of them have black eyes... as does the one in the center. The white-haired man walks around the circle, lightly pressing a thumb to the forehead of each kneeling man. As he touches their brows, the men lower their eyes, and the circle glows with a soft light. The white-haired man draws a heavy knife from his robes, and slowly pulls it across his palm. A few drops of blood spatter the floor. The circle's light intensifies. The white-haired man moves in a blur, touching each of the kneelers too quick to track, and then stands in the center, still, his hand closed into a fist. The three men on their knees turn their heads up as one, a shocked expression spreading across their lips. The white-haired man opens his fist, and six black eyes fall to the ground as the three fall on their sides and decay into ash. The white-haired man turns to look forward, knowing eyes staring into Hryn's soul. His mouth spreads open, words slipping out like sand. Words that rumble like thunder. "A lesson. Learn well." The flashes pulled back from Hryn's mind, allowing his body to finally regain full control over itself. Hryn forced himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his face with an unsteady hand, and took a few ragged breaths. A cold voice echoed through the chamber, rolling like thunder. Access cut, system shutting down. The orb flared brightly for a few moments, and then the light receeded into it once more, leaving the room with a pale glow... Hryn stood still for a full minute afterwards, counting his heartbeats and letting his eyes adjust to the relative darkness. A soft orange glow bobbed down the hallway behind him, throwing dancing shadows on the walls. Hryn turned towards the exit, only to find Gerod Loghis, head of the Dead Council, standing in the doorway with a torch in one hand and blood running down the other. "Tell me, Fixer Hryn... did Balphinus give you your answers?" ----------------- Fexus stood on top of Hammer Keep, feeling the energy of his god flowing into him... he could see the perfect diamond in his mind, flashing with white-hot light as it granted him its power. Rivulets of water flowed off his arms and joined the dancing spheres of moisture which spun around him. Fexus could hear the world turning, could feel the movements of the ocean beneath his footsteps. A storm was brewing over Hammerfall, but then a storm was always brewing over Hammerfall. Fexus would have it no other way. He was one with the storm, a thing whole and powerful, masterful... and very, very dangerous. He split a segment of the storm off, allowing the main body to run unchecked for a moment. The segment, Fexus moved out to sea, swelling its fury and size until it became a hurricane... and this he directed toward Cold Port. Nanten's carriers had arrived, bringing word that the Althane boy was dead, and most likely working for the Council. Hryn had failed Fexus. And now, mused Fexus, he would have to take matters into his own hands. If the Dead Council survived his storm, they'd likely retaliate in force. Fexus poured more strength into his storm, spun it faster. He felt the depression in the ocean's surface as the winds beat downwards, supporting the monstrosity on a column of air as hard as granite. None would survive... Fexus would see to it. -------------------- Hryn dusted himself off, smoothed his shirt. "I thought I was to be watched, and not interfered with." Loghis rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, well, I changed my mind. Tell me, Hryn, what did you see?" Hryn cocked an eyebrow and ran a hand across his hip, trailing red across his black leathers. "That would be my business, dead man. Now are you going to let me walk out of here without any further trouble, or do I spread your bones about this room?" Loghis narrowed his eyes, his white hair falling over his face. He brushed it back behind his ears and spoke lowly. "What makes you so certain you could do that, Hryn?" "Care to find out, corpse?" Loghis raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "If you really want to try, be my guest... you might want to wait a few minutes, though." "And why's that?" "Because your master just drew up enough power to level half the Krishin Island, and directed it towards us. Still loyal, dog of Fexus?" Hryn's lips cracked into a thin smile and returned the shrug. "I accepted my death a long time ago, Loghis... a practice I would suggest you get familiar with. The Master does as he wills... it isn't my place to question that." The white-haired man chuckled softly and shook his head. "You really don't know when to admit that Fexus has abandoned you, do you? Tell you what, Hryn... work for me. I'm jumping ship for a while, Cold Port's not going to survive this thing. What do you say?" Hryn chuckled under his breath and closed his eyes. "I say no." Loghis sighed heavily and raised his eyebrows. "I don't think you understand, here... if you don't say yes, you'll end up buried underneath more wood and stone than I care to imagine. Unless you're very good at tunneling, you really don't have much choice." "Right. Well, no choice but to die, anyway." Hryn leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, glancing over at Loghis. "Tell me, though, if I say yes, how do you plan to get us out of here?" The dead man with the white hair walked past Hryn and into the center of the chamber, stood reverantly before the alter with its black orb. "Balphinus... the Truth of Fate, which Althis spoke to his brother Mephis shortly before his ascendance to holy death." Loghis turned his head to glance at Hryn, motionless against the wall. "Do you know what that truth was, Fixer?" "Can't say that I do, or care to... but I'm sure you're going to tell me." Loghis chuckled and placed his hand on the orb. A low humming filled the room, vibrating in Hryn's bones. "All things end in time, Fixer... before Cold Port there was another city here, swept away by a tidal wave. None now remember its name. Before Fexus, Hammerfall was governed by the Hloran line... it must vex you to be indentured to your overthrower, Mallon. And before them, it belonged to the Althane line. Those rules ended, the city changed... and this, too, shall pass, my dear Mallon." The hum became a low bass rumble, shaking dust from the dome of sandstone above the altar. "How quaint." Loghis threw his head back, staring at the roof, and laughed softly. "Althis knew more than he spoke, though. After his death, he realized that the world was not one thing, dying and creating. It was two things, the light half which we creatures are born into, and the other side... a negative reflection, if you will. Althis saw the cycle inherent... all things die and are reborn into this underworld, then die again and migrate back here, stripped of their memories. Holy Althis decided to change that cycle." Hryn stretched and yawned, pushing off the wall. A low rumble of thunder echoed through the corridors and bounced off the walls of the chamber. "I assume this story is going somewhere..." Loghis ignored Hryn, placing his other hand on the orb. "Before Althis, the world was split into two halves, unable to touch each other except for at the moment of death. Althis bridged the gap... even now, he holds the gates open. And because of that, there is a space... between this world and the next. Among other things, that space can be used to move without movement." The orb flared brightly, throwing shadows behind Loghis and Hryn. "And that's what I offer you, Fixer Hryn. Or should I say Mallon Hloran? I can access Balphinus to move the two of us out of here, or I can go myself and leave you to your fate. What do you say?" Hryn smiled again and chuckled. "I say no. Again." Loghis shook his head and chuckled. "Ever the loyal dog... even unto death." Loghis' body fuzzed at the edges, little pieces splintering off and dissipating. His voice echoed through the room, a wraith's whisper. "Perhaps holy Althis will have mercy on you in your next life... goodbye, Mallon." Hryn darted forward, planting his palm into the back of Loghis' fuzzing skull. It was like grasping at fog... but grasp, Hryn did. Loghis solidified and gasped, flailing at the air. Hryn put a hand against the base of his neck, and jerked back with a strength born of desperation. Two black orbs came with it, trailing strings of red. "Mallon Hloran is dead, corpse. And so are you." Ash coated Hryn's legs as the body standing before him crumbled and collapsed. Thunder rolled outside and the room trembled. Hryn stood for a moment, then dropped the eyes onto the floor and placed his hand on the orb. He felt the cold sphere seep into his mind again. The backs of his eyes burned and for a moment he was sure he'd collapse again. The voice rolled into his head once more. Balphinus system, state your identity. "Hryn, servant of Fexus." The orb flashed brightly, pale blue light churning in its core. Hostmask Hryn added to authorized access list. What is your wish? "Can you take me to Hammerfall?" The orb settled into a pattern of blue on white. Request confirmed... prepare for transit.

Ooooooh... Sign me up!

Hryn stalked the rooftops of Cold Port, moving from one to the next with a feline grace born of years of climbing trees as a child... Hryn didn't let himself think about his childhood very often, but every once in a while it surfaced despite his blocking it out. He distinctly remembered flitting from limb to limb, tumbling through the branches only to catch himself expertly just before he hit the ground. Hryn had been the most nimble boy in Blackthorn... he allowed himself a small grin as he cleared the space between a thatcher's shop and the Court at Cold Port. Hryn came to an easy landing on the roof, skidding a few inches and stretching out his arms to catch himself with his fingertips. The roof of the building, one of a very few stone roofs in this city, was surprisingly warm to the touch... Hryn checked to make sure he hadn't landed near a chimney, and then swung his head over the side, looking into a third-story window... no fire, or at least no firelight. Hryn swung his head back up, dismissing this small mystery, and crawled across the roof to where he knew a disused chimney to be located. Hryn found the chimney, quickly checked to make sure it was as disused as he'd been told, and noting that it was out at least for the moment, Hryn slipped inside, bracing himself against the walls of the chimney and sliding down quickly. He rolled out of the fireplace, kicking up a cloud of soot which quickly settled over him, darkening his features. He scanned the room quickly, noting a few soft chairs and couches, a wooden desk and cabinets. Hryn turned to leave, and was stopped by a soft echo of laughter. "I expected far better from the great Fixer Hryn than this... tell me, Mallon; why the chimney?" Hryn turned his head toward the sound as a misty form solidified into one of the chairs, legs crossed easily and resting its head on its hands. It was dressed in simple gray cotton and wore black leather shoes. It had short, white hair, expertly cut. And most of all, Hryn stared into its cold, black eyes. "It was preferable to taking the door." Hryn let the man think he was Mallon, for the moment... it was useful. "To what do I owe the pleasure of the personal company of the head of the Dead Council? How long has it been, Loghis?" The white-haired man smiled amiably at Hryn, shrugged lightly. "I'd heard you were in Cold Port. How could I not pay a visit to the right-hand man of my former ally? Tell me, Hryn... how much of Fexus' planning are you privy to?" "Enough to know that you won't walk out of this room alive, corpse." Loghis closed his eyes and chuckled softly. "Correct, mighty Hryn. I haven't walked out of a room alive in over a hundred years." The man shrugged again. It was an annoying habit of his. "But I was asking if you had any idea what Fexus actually planned to do with the Courts." "None at all. Not that it matters. What Fexus wishes is what I'll do, regardless of whether I agree with his ends." Loghis fixed Hryn with a black-eyed stare, narrowing his eyes and dropping his hands, straightening in the seat. "Hryn... do you even know what the Courts are? What they can do?" Hryn grinned at the man and shrugged. "Does it matter? You know that it won't make a difference to me, dead man." "Too true..." Loghis settled back into his chair, the leather squeaking as he did. "You aren't going to try and stop me? Throw yourself at me uselessly?" Loghis shook his head with a bemused smirk. "Of course not, Fixer Hryn." Loghis shrugged. Again. Hryn's eye twitched and he briefly imagined tearing Loghis' arms from his body. "The lowest levels of the Court are where you'll find your answer. My men have orders to observe but not interfere. You'll never even see them..." Loghis dissipated into mist once more, his eyes hanging in space for a moment, watching Hryn. And then all was silence for a moment. Hryn turned from the room, and slipped out into the Court. True to his word, no man barred Hryn's path as he made his way to the lower levels of the Court. Hryn could feel the eyes on his back, though, a tingle like a thousand spiders crawling on his shoulders. The Court was dark, unlit... the dead could see in the dark. Hryn had to make due with a hand on the wall. When he hit the lower levels, his memory of the layout of this place failed him... Hryn had never been this deep before. He walked forward slowly, feeling ahead of him with a foot... a blind man in the kingdom of the dead. Hryn chuckled softly, the sound echoing back to him distorted and dark. Hryn's eyes were wide open, he could feel the pupils dilated out as far as they could go, trying vainly to drink in whatever light still travelled these dead corridors. None did, and so Hryn stumbled deeper into the Court at Cold Port. The path tread downward, and twisted slightly... A descending spiral, if Hryn visualized it correctly. At least there were no branching paths, as he had worried there would be... just a long, slow spiral into the ground. --------------------- Robyn and Kor weren't bad sorts, once you got to know them... Gavin almost liked the brothers. They were not, as he'd thought, twins. Robyn was older by almost a year. The two ran magebane in Hammerfall's streets, selling them to Fexus' officials and advisors. The man himself had never tried it, which didn't surprise Gavin in the least. Nearly everyone on his council of advisors was hopelessly addicted, though... a useful fact to remember. The brothers used the money to quietly fund orphanages, schools, and kitchens across the breadth of Hammerfall, as well as making a tidy profit for themselves. They were dissenters, as well, and with a proper push, Gavin imagined they could be turned against Fexus openly. They'd fail, of course... as large as their resource-pool was, it was a drop in the bucket that was Hammerfall, and Fexus held that bucket. They might be enough of a diversion for Gavin to make his move, though... Gavin shook his head and cleared those thoughts as Kor slapped Robyn on the shoulder, laughing raucously. "An' 'en 'e 'aid... 'ut aye 're 'nly 'king!" The brothers slammed meaty fists into the table, lost in laughter and red-faced from drinking. Gavin didn't understand half the words out of their mouths, but they'd come to an agreement over the last few hours. Gavin would transport magebane for them, which would bring him closer to Fexus than he could otherwise get on his own, and he'd receive a share of the profits. Overall, a benefit for Gavin all around. He grinned at the joke, something about a farmer's wife, if he understood correctly... or his daughter... or both. In any case, it was raunchy and low-brow. Gavin shook his head and ordered another glass of water. ------------------------ A soft glow had started to permeate the walls as Hryn stalked deeper, and the thousand spiders had coalesced into a few very large spiders. He was still being watched, but instead of many watchers, it was now only two. One set at Hryn's back, the other waiting for him... wherever this tunnel let out. And then it did, widening suddenly and splaying itself into a circular room... empty save for a low stone altar with a black orb sitting in a depression carved into its top. Hryn glanced at the walls... a steady progression of images were carved into them, wrapping around the room. To Hryn's left were representations of a large man, thickly muscled and bald, swinging a hammer into what appeared to be a mountain range. Behind him stood a lithe man with flowing hair, his face set into a mask of disinterest. Next was an image of the larger man sitting cross-legged and wreathed in flames while the willowy one held a spear and watched over him. The scene bled into another, the spear-bearer locked in combat with some sort of beast-man... a large form with thick fur and a mane like a lion, its face barely recognizable as human. It had large teeth and heavy claws. Next was the beast-man elbow-deep in the spear-bearer's chest. And to Hryn's left, the man took up the entire far wall, his hair flowing around him and arms outstretched, with a gaping hole where his heart should be... his eyes open and serene. Althis' death, if Hryn understood correctly. He turned back to the altar, stepping forward slowly. Hryn stared into the black orb for a long minute, and then placed his hand on it. His head exploded with sound. A voice like thunder flowed into his brain. Balphinus system, state your identity. "What... how? Who?" Hryn reeled, breaking contact and falling to the floor... the voice continued in his head, drowning out his thoughts. Hloran line detected, match confirmed. Access granted.

Wow... And Sal picks the toughie again. Ok, here's what I believe to be true. Religion, while good on paper, is ultimately corruptable by the human institutions which guide it. Why? Because we're flawed, greedy, stupid, power-hungry animals. Which isn't to say that we aren't capable of good things, or that individuals can't be good people. I think that the community around here contains some of the best, kindest individuals I've ever been blessed to know. That said, having brought this up with many and sundry pastors, preachers, priests, fathers, reverends, etc, etc... (I used to play music for churches.) They generally listened politely and then informed me, like I was some kind of eight year old, that whatever changes happened in the church, it was God's guiding hand and His will... whatever that meant. Basically, that God had instituted change in the church via mortal means. Couldn't really wrap my brain around that one, looking at some of the things I'd been asking about. Just seemed kind of cardboard. So I went spelunking through religion for a few months. Still a hobby of mine, actually... there's great philosophy in religion, and some very nice tennets for life. I started to notice patterns. And so my spiritual view is as follows: Like the old Celtic druids said: 1. All the gods are one. When the Roman Catholics tried to stamp out druidism in the British Isles, several prominent leaders came to them, trying to make them understand that their religions were not so different. (Which, if you can track down a copy of the book of Pherylt, is true.) The Catholics wouldn't hear of it, and ended up slaughtering many innocent people. However, you can see druidic practices in many Catholic rituals. A few of the druids jumped ship and hid themselves inside the Catholic church, influencing policy for years afterwards, and bleeding druidic doctrine into the Catholic machine. Just a little cool history lesson for you. 2. God, in whatever form cannot be all-knowing, all-powerful, and loving. Two of those, yes. All three, no. And since I choose to believe in a loving god... it's the all-powerful that I usually settle on. Very powerful, incredibly powerful, yes. But not infinitely powerful. 3. A personal relationship with God has served me far better than organized religion. I feel better, and I'm a better person now than I was under any kind of church doctrine. I dictate my own morality, through a conscience that I now know works. And that morality can change to fit the situation. There's more, but it's all common sense stuff... In any case, I'm a little burned out as for how to end this so... There it is.

A little blue man adjusts his clothing in a mirror taller than he is... Finnius is not one for fancy attire, but for an occasion such as this... Fine black velvet, trimmed in silver at the cuffs and worked with twin quills on the lapels. An idea from Peredhil, as Finnius is not the snappiest dresser. He'd originally intended to just throw on his best robes, make a picnic lunch and maybe seranade the lovely Salinye Celestialgrace with a poem or a song... he'd had one in mind, even, but Pered... Well, he'd quickly suggested, not a demand or anything... more like advice. And so here was Finnius, in tailored blacks and more silver than he'd imagined could be worked into a single suit. His hair was combed back, expertly straight and freshly cut. His hands were soft, baby-skin fine instead of his normal rough, worn digits. Yui-chan had supplied the most amazing moisturizer... The little blue man cut a dashing, if somewhat short, figure, but slightly heeled shoes, polished and gleaming, took care of that... to a degree. Well, at least he'd be able to look Salinye in the eye. Orlan's idea, that had been. Finnius turned to leave the room, pausing long enough to smack himself in the forehead and turned back, taking a swordbelt and fastening it around his waist. He'd need some form of protection for his date where they were going... and Gyr had been kind enough to provide a spare blade, complete with various and sundry enchantments. It was no Redemptio or Atrernax, but it would suffice... or so Gyrfalcon had said, and so Finnius hoped. With that, the little blue man exhaled a soft sigh and slipped out of his room, feeling... not quite himself. Good, but maybe a tad overdressed. *** "Finnius whateverwhatever O'Harpy!" Sal stood in the doorway of Custos Manor, resplendant in a snug, but tasteful dress, black and strapless... a classic. It only served to highlight her fair features, and Finnius thanked Orlan for making sure he was at eye level instead of his usual chest-level... could have gotten iffy. As it was, Finn's little blue jaw felt leaden and he was lucky to be able to tear his eyes away from Salinye's radiant face. "I don't think I've ever seen you so dressed up... and I have to say, it looks great on you!" The little blue man shrugged and tried to calm his fluttering heart, extending a shaky arm to Salinye and cracking a slanted grin. "Shall we, m'lady?" *** Finnius and Salinye halted, arm in arm, in front of a plain wooden door deep within the Pen Keep. Salinye cocked her head to one side and gave Finnius a half-glance and a small smile. Finnius, catching the smile, turned slightly less indigo, and slightly more purple... he always blushed in the most interesting shades. "Why Finny! I'm not entirely sure what you had planned, but I don't think some alone-time in a dark room is entirely appropriate..." Finnius turned distinctly more purple and quickly shook his head. "No! No, I mean, not that that wouldn't be... er... what I meant was... the room... door, I mean... when you concentrate, it turns into what... and you can... you know, whatever... that is, whatever you want, you know? I'm babbling aren't I?" Salinye giggled, placing one elegant hand to her mouth and gave Finnius' arm a heartstopping squeeze. "I know about the room, Finny. Me and GyrE found it a bit ago... when you concentrate on it, the room becomes whatever you want." She grinned and pressed closer to Finnius... coincidentally turning him a bright violet. "And you're offering me a tour of whatever I want, right?" Finnius nodded dumbly, and vainly tried to struggle his arm out of Sal's grasp... without having to pull it out around her wrist, which would have planted it firmly between her cleavage in any case... he gave up his struggles and resigned himself to a night of purpleness. Salinye chewed her bottom lip for all of ten seconds, and then looked back at Finnius, practically bouncing... which the little purple man tried desperatly not to notice. "I want a tour of Terra! Like it was in the old days... Terra Lost. The Old Conservatory and the days of the Archmages and all that stuff!" Finnius' face swung back down the spectrum, moving past his normal indigo and into a pale sky blue... well, he had told her whatever she wanted. He gave Salinye a small nonchalant grin, expertly tutored by Ozymandius, and concentrated, remembering... The door opened. *** A panorama spread out before Salinye, fields upon fields of diamond, burning as bright as the sun. Node-fields. A little blue man walked slowly through them, occasionally caressing one, a grin plastered across his face. Salinye looked over to Finnius, her eyes wide in pleasant surprise. "Why, Finny! I never knew you were an archmage..." Finnius shook his head, his grin small and nostalgiac. "Just watch, Sal... trust me, I may've been a mage, but I was by no means an archmage..." There is a sound of leather beating against thunder... wings the size of galleon-sails blot out the sun for a moment, and the Finnius that works the node-fields glances skyward as a monolithic Red Dragon lays half the field to ash. The light from the nodes pours into Finnius, and his eyes glow softly with a power and steel that is neither present nor accounted for in this half-blushing tour-guide holding daintily onto Salinye's arm. The Dragon wheels around for another strike, and its fire flares around Finnius, obscuring sight briefly. When the cloud passes, the little blue man has fallen to one knee, but not a single node more has been destroyed... and he narrows his still-glowing eyes at the Dragon, mumbling a soft Word. The Dragon circles several more times, eyeing Finnius warilly. It eventually sails away, shaking its huge reptilian head in confusion. Salinye looks at Finnius, a look of consternation spreading across her face. "What happened? The dragon could've won..." Finnius nods and grins. "Hallucination, Sal... he can't hurt me if he can't see me." Finnius gives a low chuckle, Salinye still squinting in confusion, and the scene melts. *** A bustle of mages swirls around the two, masked and colorful... Salinye giggles and points at the people she recognizes. "Ooo! Look, it's Rydia... no, wait... But that is definitely Canid... with a mohawk?!" She turns in slow circles, as the spectral music begins to accompany the scene. "And Wyvern... but what's he dressed up like?" "Brute... not sure if you've ever met him." Finnius shurgs. "Actually, not sure if I've ever met him..." "OOoooh... and another Wyvern... wait, why are there two Wyverns?" "Well, actually, one of those is your Gyrfalcon... polymorphed." "Which one?" Sal shifts her gaze back and forth between the two, grinning widely. Finnius shrugs. "Not sure... been a while." Salinye swings her gaze towards a makeshift stage, where a small blue man is gyrating and pulling faux-fur from its glued-on positions on his body. "Is that... you?!" Finnius slips a soft hand over Sal's eyes and gives an embarassed chuckle. "Ermm... yes, I'd kind of forgotten about that... let's move on before we get to my not-quite-everpresent horn..." Sal opens her mouth to ask a question, but the scene shifts again. *** They stand on the side of a mountain, a chill wind whipping around them. Finnius pulls his coat off, finally freeing his arm, and wraps it around Salinye's shoulders. "Where are we now, Finny?" Finnius scans the horizon, searching... "Mount Tyrant..." Finnius found what he was looking for, and pointed towards the base of the mountain. "One of the bloodiest battles in the history of Terra." The scene shifted, and the pair was standing in the center of the battle... Ice Elementals crushed the skulls of demons indescribable to man, human troops died by the score, only to rise from the ground and continue fighting... a blaring horn sounded in the east, and Gyrfalcon himself could be made out in the middle of the fighting... where the blood lay thickest, there was Gyr. "Finn... why are you showing me this?" Finnius glanced towards the setting sun. "Because this is where it starts... where Terra Lost started to loose its coherence." Almost as soon as the words have passed his lips, there is a reverberating boom on the horizon, and where there once was a thick layer of snow, a lush and moist forest springs into existence, only to wither and die within seconds... The fighting goes on, scores of Phoenixes blacking the sky. Gyr's army coats them with oil, pitched from defensive catapults, and the mighty birds' strength becomes their death-knell. Salinye presses close against Finnius' arm, her eyes widening in shock, and shivering more from the carnage than the cold... And on the horizon, the sun melts into the ground, and Finnius puts a protective hand over Salinye's face, shielding it from the white-hot blaze, bright enough to blind her momentarily, even through his hand. When the heat has passed, the motion has ceased... all around, bodies lie still and dead. Sal looks around bewildered. "What... what was that?" Finnius rubs his eyes with the back of one hand and kneels in the dirt next to a still blue body... forgotten among the ashes, bearing the arms and insignia of the Pressed Service of Mages Under Gyrfalcon. "That... was the beating of a Heart Ablaze." Finnius touches the face and slowly closes its eyelids, standing and dusting himself off. He glances back at Sal, a quick grin flashing in his eyes. "Impressive, wasn't it?" *** The room dims momentarily and returns to four sparse walls... Finnius leads Salinye outside and closes the door with a heavy sigh. The two walk back to Custos Manor in silence, Finnius' arm around Salinye's shoulder. They huddle together, numb inside despite the warm climate of the Pen Keep in spring. Finnius sees Salinye to her door, and rubs the back of his head, scratching an itch that had been there since he'd picked her up. He bows low over her hand and gives it a light brush with his lips, and flashes another grin at Sal. "You know... I think, in some ways, Terra Lost is better lost. Not that I'm all possessed and demony again. But the Pen is a far better place, and far more dear. Don't fret about not knowing too much about its origins... for what it's worth, we love you all the same... more so, I'd think." Finnius bows low one more time, and takes Sal in a brief hug before nodding politely and heading off into the night.

Hryn sat quietly and sipped his tea. Nanten had stockpiles of the stuff, in all varieties. He was an addict, Hryn thought... as much as someone could be addicted to tea. There was a pot of it still simmering, and Hryn had been through several cups already. Nanten still lay unconscious on the floor, giving Hryn ample time for reflection. He fully expected that the few guards who patrolled the streets of Cold Port would find the bodies outside Nanten's back door within an hour or so. Hryn no longer cared. If the guards came, he'd deal with them. Nanten shifted slightly, brought a hand up to his head and groaned. Hryn slid his cup into the center of the table and stood up, kneeling down next to Nanten. "Morning, tailor... enjoy your nap?" Nanten slowly opened one eye and turned it to Hryn. "Still haven't lost your dry wit, I see... and it still hasn't gotten any better." Nanten forced himself to his feet long enough to let his bulk fall into a chair with a soft grunt. "Tell me, Fixer... why did you come back? Decide to apologize already?" Hryn smoothly retook his chair, cocking his head to one side. "Actually, yes... not so much because I'm actually sorry, as because I need something." Nanten shook his head and laughed under his breath. "Ever the politician. Don't you even want to know what happened here, Fixer?" Hryn shrugged and pulled the cup back over to his hand, raising it to sip lightly. "Not particularly, but I'm sure you're going to tell me, so why not just assume that I care?" Nanten raised one eyebrow. "You're right, Hryn, I am going to tell you. Those men were agents of the Dead Council, but I'm sure you realized that already... the one with the whole in his chest? He was a council member, Hryn, and one sympathetic to Fexus' goals. I'd been feeding him disinformation, and he'd been bringing me closer to your Loryn Halgus. And then, out of nowhere... his eyes flashed black and he started trying to kill me. Pour me a cup, would you?" "Black?" Hryn reached over to the counter, took another cup and the pot, and poured tea for the tailor. "Are you sure, Nanten?" There was a sinking feeling in Hryn's gut, and his breath came shallow. Nanten took the cup, and nodded. "Yes... black as coal. He screamed something before he tried to kill me, Hryn... Die, dog of Fexus." Nanten met Hryn's eyes. "I hadn't told him that I worked for Fexus... and I don't keep my contacts with our master public." Hryn stared into his cup, meeting the reflection of his eyes... his cold, killer's eyes. Hryn took another sip. ---------------------- Loryn stood in the Sailor, the flames licking around her... she could feel the heat, she knew on some level that she should be burning. Everywhere, the flames danced into Gavin's face. He smiled at her and shook his head. Loryn walked up the stairs, the flames catching at her clothes, swirling around her without burning her. Gavin's fiery form followed alongside her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Loryn paused at the top of the stairs, paused and looked down the hall. The ghost of Gavin slipped into Hryn's room, beckoning with one burning finger. Loryn followed behind, stumbling through the blaze, wrapped in warm orange light. The creature of flames stood in the room, surprisingly still intact... the candles had melted into pools of wax on the floor, the curtains were black and curled, but other than that... Gavin stretched out a hand, motioned to a dresser drawer. Loryn slowly walked to it and pulled it open... the wooden handles of the drawer were cool to the touch. Inside rested a stack of books, the name Saevus Sospita inscribed on the front of each one. The writings of Sospita. Loryn picked up the tomes, held them tight to her chest, and turned to Gavin's burning image. He stretched out a hand, wreathed in flames, and caressed the side of her face. He smiled again, and then lost his form, melting back into the flames from which he'd come... leaving Loryn standing there, covered in fire but unburning. She clutched the books to her tighter, and left the room. ---------------------- Fexus sat in the deepest bowels of Hammer Keep, his legs crossed in the darkness. The only light was a low crackling glow which eminated from his own arms, wrapped in lightning. In front of him was an altar... Fexus' own personal god. It was waist high, and solid granite, carved with images of lions and snakes, the same images which graced his pendant... Fexus had adopted the lion and snake as his personal seal. The top of the altar was curved ever so slightly, and in the center of it sat an orb of purest diamond. Fexus had seen many diamonds, but never one this exquisite. It was faceted on the inside, and any light that it caught was quickly spread throughout the orb, making it glow like the sun. The outside was smooth, perfectly ovoid. How many times had Fexus caressed that orb, and wished he could lift it from its altar... Fexus sat in front of his altar and worshiped his orb. The keeper of the storms, and the source of his power. The Court at Hammerfall. A soft clearing of the throat behind him. He hadn't even heard anyone enter. Fexus snapped himself out of his reverie and spun to his feet, turning to face the intruder. Kira stood in the doorway, a letter in her hand. The Fixer bowed lowly, touching her fist to the stone floor. "A message for you, Master Fexus. Urgent, or I wouldn't have intruded." Fexus closed his eyes and nodded shallowly. "Leave it in front of the door. I'll read it when I'm done." Kira placed the letter on the cold granite, nodding her head farther towards the ground. Fexus opened his eyes. "You may leave me now, Fixer." Kira rose and slipped out the door, drawing it closed behind her. Fexus turned back to his altar, starting as he saw the orb... for a moment, he'd been sure a single black eye had floated in its center, staring at him... must've just been a trick of his mind. Fexus forced more power through his arms, illuminating the room. The orb caught his light and burned brighter than the sun. Almost as bright as Fexus' ambitions. ------------------------ The streets of Hammerfall swept around Gavin. It was raining again. He'd only been here a day, and it had let up for an entire minute. Just after sunrise, when he'd felt Natayu being accessed once more... it had surged with power and the clouds had broken apart for a spare moment. Gavin had glimpsed the sun through them briefly... and the people of Hammerfall had hung out their windows and rang bells in joy. Gavin had aquired a long cloak shortly after reaching the city, and kept the hood low over his face, to hide his eyes... he wasn't sure how many people would understand the meaning behind them, but onyx eyes were not an everyday occurence in any case. And so he walked through the streets of Hammerfall, his boots clipping the stones of the streets, and a drenched cloak smoothed over his form. The rain ceased to matter to him, and he didn't feel the cold anymore... but it was still annoying. Gavin ducked into a tavern, a low-slung affair carved into the side of a larger building, which was carved into the cliffs that surrounded the city. Most buildings in Hammerfall were made of pure granite, and seemed to grow out of the cliffs. It was an odd beauty, to Gavin's mind. The tavern was named, appropriately enough, the Dead Man's Cup. It reeked of cheap wine and vomit. A few wooden tables crowded the interior, and a large fireplace burned brightly against the far wall. Gavin made his way to the barkeep and ordered bread, soup, and water. The barkeep looked ascance at him and quoted him a price far higher than what was reasonable. Gavin lifted his head and briefly locked eyes with the man, under guise of adjusting his hood. The barkeep quoted a much lower price, one far more reasonable. Gavin slipped him a few coins and took a seat. He slumped into his chair, resting his arms on the table and dripping a spreading pool of water onto the floor. It didn't take long for him to be joined by a pair of burly men, bald and with their eyebrows pierced. Gavin had never seen a man with piercings... in Cold Port, no man would disgrace himself by letting metal be speared through his flesh. Not many women would, either. Gavin reminded himself he was no longer in Cold Port, and rested his hands on the table. One of the men looked at the other... the two could've been twins they looked so much alike. "Hey, Robyn... wh't'da ya t'nk we 've 're?" His accent was near incomprehensible... Gavin pricked up his ears as the other responded. "Ay' 'nt 'ure, m'lado, 'ut he 'ooks a 'ar sight 'etter'n 'at 'ast un." Robyn, if Gavin caught his name right, winked at his twin and pulled a fat coin out of his pocket, laying it on the table in front of Gavin. "An' 'ow'd 'ou 'ike ta 'ake a 'retty penny, 'oll? Ay'n Kor'd 'e look'n'r a 'hird fer a 'light 'pot'a work." Gavin tried to figure out what the man had said, eventually decided it was a bad job, and was about to ask him to clarify when the barkeep arrived with his meal. Gavin thanked the man, and instead of answering took a sip of water. Robyn poked his twin... Kor, in the ribs harshly. "I 'on' t'nk 'e's 'av' ta w't w're a'rt'r." Kor shrugged and watched Gavin eat. "We m'ght's 'ell 'et'm 'e't 'rst. 'Nly' 'li'ght." Gavin shook his head and took a mouthful of bread. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I don't think I understand what you're trying to ask me. Maybe if you could speak a bit slower?" Robyn looked at Kor, and they both grinned at each other. Robyn broke the silence, speaking slower and thickly ennunciated. "Wat my br'ther an' I was ask'ng is'f you'd be in'rested in a spot of work. 'E seems ta th'nk you'd be good f'r it." Gavin took another bite and grinned. Simple street-jobs would be far too easy for Gavin, but money was money... and the more of it he could muster, the easier it would be to pull Fexus down. "What'd you have in mind?" ----------------------- Hryn and Nanten sat up far into the night, discussing what he'd found out. The Halgus woman had been heavily addicted to magebane, and was buying it from the Council, through secondhand dealers. When they found out she was also dealing with Fexus on the side... well, they'd reacted swiftly and certainly. From what Nanten gathered, she wasn't dead yet, or more to the point, she wasn't completely dead yet. A fitting end for Loryn Halgus, Hryn thought. As for Gavin... Hryn told Nanten what had happened, told him that the Master had wanted the boy brought into his service, something about a mutual matter of their births... the same reason he'd called Hryn to Hammer Keep all those years ago. Nanten's face clouded over, and he chewed his lip. "So did he tell you where he was going?" Hryn shook his head, sipping at his tea... he'd been drinking tea the entire day, and was starting to get sick of the stuff. "He told me that I was a means to an ends... whatever that means, and that he was too. I think he was trying to leave me a clue." Hryn stared into his cup, swirling it around shallowly. "That could mean any number of things, Fixer... have you been back to the Court here yet?" Hryn cocked an eyebrow. "No, should I have?" Nanten's eyes widened in surprise. "So you don't know, then? The Court's been locked down, Hryn... the Council's behind it, and they have the full support of every High Judge in the city... no one comes in, no one goes out." Hryn cocked his head to one side, taking another sip. "Any idea why?" "None... but your answer may lie there, Fixer. It's the only thing I can think of. After all, that was why you were sent here in the first place, right? To take control of the Court for Fexus?" Hryn nodded slowly. "Yes... that is why I'm here... the ends to my means." Hryn glanced up, gave Nanten a small grin. "Looks like I have a target, then... thank you, tailor." Nanten looked away from Hryn's eyes, and back into his cup. He stared himself in the eye, and didn't look back up until Hryn had risen from his chair and left his shop. He didn't like lying to the man... gods knew, Hryn had been through enough already... but Nanten knew what Fexus' true purpose had been for him from the start. And now that he'd done his part, Nanten the Tailor could finally let himself be. He walked out of his shop, and into the night. Nanten had an appointment to keep, with a boat back to Hammerfall.

For tears and for hugs, For laughter and faith, For holding my hand, When I'm dead as a wraith, For letting me rant, And for ranting at me, I give you this song, This heart and the sea. I give you my safety, My fitting like gloves, My warmest and best, I give you my love, And all that I ask, Of you in return, Is to be there for me, When the wells start to burn. I'm yours for the taking, Your poet and friend, A harbor in storms, And love til the end, For you do I sing this, For you do I call, My friend and my love, My world and my all. ----

Hryn slipped through the streets of Cold Port, his hands rubbing together every so often for warmth. The weather had taken a sudden cold snap within the last few days, and his breath misted in the dim light of morning. He was headed to the Lonely Sailor, after having wandered the streets of the city all night. His mind kept racing back to the shop of Nanten the Tailor, and the sudden turning of the conversation that led to him breathless on the street. Nanten still thought he was Mallon... many people thought that, Hryn knew... he could almost understand it, but he knew the truth. Mallon was dead, dead by Hryn's hand. Dead by Fexus hand. A soft orange glow lit the end of the street... at first, Hryn mistook it for the sun. He quickly realized that the sun wouldn't be putting off a large plume of smoke and stepped up his pace, pushing his way through the throngs of people that had sprang up as he neared the Lonely Sailor. They seemed tired and weary, as if they'd just gotten out of bed. They rubbed at their eyes and allowed Hryn to shoulder them aside. Hryn turned the corner, stopping dead to see the Lonely Sailor engulfed in flames. Gavin stood outside, facing the crowd, formed in a rough semi-circle in front of him, wary and fearful. His black eyes swept the crowd and a small grin sat on his face. The flames backlit him, and defined the shaking form of Loryn at his side, her hand clutched roughly in his. Hryn pushed his way into the circle, coming to a sudden stop a few feet in front of his student. Gavin snapped his head over to Hryn, and his grin widened. "I was wondering how long it would take you to show up..." Hryn's eyes narrowed. "Tell me, boy... what happened here?" Gavin's grin turned up at the corner. "I set it on fire. Loryn was trying to teach me something..." Gavin chuckled lightly. "She tried to teach me something that wasn't possible, Hryn... not right then, anyway. Do you know why?" Hryn stood still, considering Gavin silently. Gavin shook his head and winked at Hryn. "She was trying to keep me occupied, Hryn. Why would she be doing that, I wonder? Hmmmm..." Gavin shook a finger at Hryn, reproachful and insolent. He dropped the grin, and his voice became serious. "Because you told her to... the two of you have been keeping my head spun ever since I came back, haven't you?" Hryn nodded wordlessly. "Well... the time for that is over." Gavin raised Loryn's hand slightly, giving her a tug forward. "You can thank her for this, Hryn. Her clumsy attempts at keeping me in the dark managed to jar my mind loose. And you know what, Hryn?" Gavin spat the name, made it sound like a curse... which it was, to Hryn's mind. "I remember everything now. I remember my meeting with Althis, remember what he told me." Gavin grinned. "I know everything about you now. And your master, for that matter. You're just a means to an end, Fixer Hryn." Gavin shrugged, closing his eyes briefly. "So am I, for that matter... but at least I know it. We'll meet again, Fixer... shortly." And with that, Gavin blurred, his black eyes boring holes into Hryn's soul, and then he was gone. Where once he'd stood were two scorched footprints, a slight trail of steam floating upwards from them. Hryn stood there for a moment, then allowed his shoulders to slump as he turned to walk off into the streets once more. He'd have to apologize to Nanten ahead of schedule. ----------------------- Fexus stood on the edge of the cliff above Hammer Keep. It was the Keep's top balcony, actually, from where you could watch the falls that split the city in half thunder down onto monolithic black stones, crashing with all the fury of the gods. Fexus enjoyed the view. It reminded him that nothing in this world was permanent... not even the very shape of the world was set in stone. Fexus allowed himself a wry grin at that thought... the world was not set in stone, only made of it. A scuffling sound behind him presaged two of his loyal Fixers dragging the half-dead creature that he'd found in the kitchens towards him. Fexus waited for them, watched the falls. Nothing was permenant... nothing would last forever. Not Hammerfall, not Cold Port, not even himself... so little time. Fexus cleared his face and turned towards the two. Machen and Kira, if he remembered correctly. It didn't matter, either way. The creature's head hung low, its knees dragged the cold granite. Fexus scowled at the thing. "Raise your head, and look me in the eye." The thing lifted its head a bare inch, and then it dropped again. Fexus knew he should've fed it... but what use, when it couldn't die anyway? Fexus sighed and addressed his Fixers. "Lift its head." The two did, putting a hand on either side of its skull, lifting and directing it at Fexus. Its eyes were wide and fearful... figured. Fexus strode forward, put one finger on the thing's forehead. He pushed back slightly, forcing it to look straight into his eyes. He could still see the discoloration of flesh where he'd had to splice someone else's jaw into the thing's head. Grisly, but efficient. And Fexus was nothing if not efficient. "Now... tell me, creature. What do you see?" Fexus fiddled with his talisman, flipped it over in his fingers. A dim light radiated from it, spreading up his arm, through his shoulders, down his other one. It spread into his finger and flowed across the creature's head. A point of smoke rose from where Fexus' finger touched the thing's flesh. It drew in a sharp hiss of breath. "I... I... I will not tell you, bastard dog of Hammerfall!" Fexus' face darkened and he flipped the pendant again. The trail of smoke rose quicker, and a soft sizzling accompanied it. The thing grimaced and grit its teeth. "Do you know what I'm doing to you, thing?" Fexus adopted a conversational tone, as he bent lower, filling the creature's visage with his eyes. He spoke softly, as a friend. "I'm channeling the lightning that I've stored from every halted storm to try and hit this city. I'm letting that power filter into you, slowly. I could burn you to cinders where you stand, before you could bat an eye... or I can keep this up, literaly for an eternity. A storm always comes, creature... and with it more than I'd need to deal with the likes of you. Now tell me what you see." The creature's stolen lip quivered... it was obviously in pain. Fexus knew full and well how painful it was to absorb that much power. He fingered the pendant, and the light became a swirling, crackling mass. A pinpoint of light burned itself into his retina, based at the connection of his flesh to the dead man's. "I see... I see..." The thing gasped, spasmed. And then stopped, curiously... it stopped, the light still burning into its skull, its flesh still melting. And it spoke clearly. "I see your doom, dog. Fexus, Lord of the Storms, he who holds lightning in his grasp... he shall fall. This city will be laid low... your time is nigh." Fexus scowled and placed his palm against the creature's forehead, power surging through his arms. The corpse blackened and melted, a pile of wet ashes drifting to the stone. The Fixers pulled back their hands waving them and blowing at them. Fexus hadn't intended to burn his servants... let it be a lesson to them. "Clean him off... I want every ash saved and bottled. Have the alchemists look at it, and return it to my study afterwards." Fexus turned back towards the falls, watching the water crash over the gargantuan black stones. Nothing was permenant. ------------------- Blackness surrounded Gavin. He'd remembered... everything at once, in the blink of an eye. The Courts, Althis had said... the Courts were the key to this world. With them, he and his brother Mephis had shaped the continents, had scooped out the seas and raised the mountains. Mephis had created them, or found them... Gavin was unsure which. Althis' wording was as vague as Hryn's. There was a Court at Hammerfall... it was called Natayu, Land's Beginning. Mephis had gifted that Court with the ability to store and create, to discharge and transmute. It held the power over all forms of energy. Fexus misguidedly believed that it could only control the lightning, and the storm. A Court at Cold Port, also... Balphinus, the Truth of Fate. It held the power over life itself, bringing growth and death, creating souls from the energy stored within Natayu. The Dead Council believed that it could raise the dead. It could, at that, and so much more... The third Court... Gavin had shuddered when he thought about the implications. Desert's Heart, the former capitol of the Twins' Empire. Machia, the Light in Darkness. Althis had been reluctant to tell Gavin what its purpose was... all he would say was that it held the balance between the other two, and governed their workings. It could blend the two, could bind souls into bricks... or weapons... or cities. Althis would say no more, only that Machia was by far the most dangerous of the three. Gavin sat suspended halfway between life and death, swirling shadows tore at him; and he moved through the ether. Althis had told him of Fexus... told him what the Lord of Hammerfall planned. Gavin would see it stopped. If Fexus controlled all three of the Courts... he could govern reality itself. The Lord of Hammerfall was an ambitous man. A pricking at the back of Gavin's skull alerted him to Natayu's access. Fexus was drawing the lightning once more, directing it with his infinite skill and finesse, directing it towards Cold Port... Gavin's mind leapt out, traced the workings back to their beginnings. Natayu screamed under the pressure of it's workings. It had been mighty once, and would be again, but for now the mind that accessed it had no idea of its true potential, and so it was strained to do a thing that should have been simple for it. To say the least, Natayu was frustrated. Gavin grinned and slipped out of the ether, arriving in the streets of Hammerfall with a slight popping sound. He'd judged carefully, and come out in an alley out of the sight of the normal populace. Here he would wait for Hryn, would wait for his former master. He knew all about Hryn... and understood the man. Fexus would pay for what he'd done. ---------------------- The shop of Nanten the Tailor was in disarray, clothing scattered across the floor and the windows shattered. Hryn stood in the middle of the room and stared down at the body of the tailor. He was still breathing, though barely, and his body was covered in cuts... he appeared to have a broken bone or two, as well. Three men lay on the floor around him, one with his neck turned halfway around, so that he appeared to be looking over his shoulder... another's bowels were open, and spilled across the floor like a rug made of gore. The third had a hole in his chest, through which Nanten's arm still protruded. The Tailor had passed out almost as soon as he had killed the man, then. Hryn knelt down, removing Nanten's arm from the hole, and gingerly removed the trail of muscle that clung to it. He flipped the man over, onto his back, and stood up, admiring the scene. He removed the three dead men from the shop, pitching them out the back door into a heap, and dragged Nanten into his back room. And there he sat and waited for the Tailor to awaken. ------------------------- Loryn trembled outside the Lonely Sailor... she sank to her knees and covered her face. One moment she'd been in the room with Gavin... he'd been silent for nearly three hours, had been staring at the candle... and then the temperature had risen ever so slightly. The next thing she knew, Loryn was floating in blackness, Gavin holding her by the elbows and staring at her with his cold, black eyes. He'd smiled at her. "Loryn, Loryn..." He'd shaken his head and clicked his tongue. "Trust me, I do understand why you had to cloud my mind. And I don't hold it against you... I just want you to know that." And then he'd pulled her against him, spun her around. He'd held her head still and forced her to look into the blackness. "Or should I say Dessina? Yes, I know your name..." Gavin had chuckled under his breath. "Would you like to know mine, Dessina?" He'd leaned in, and whispered in her ear. A name. A simple name. "Gavin Althane." Loryn watched the Sailor burn, her eyes wide in shock. Althane... the Dead Council had spoken of the Althane line... as one being closely and directly descended from Holy Althis. The boy was a direct descendant of a god. And she had... tried to conrol his thoughts. Not only was he Chosen, he was... Loryn shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. She was numb inside, cold despite the raging fire in front of her. There was no penance for this... no way she could ever atone to Holy Althis. Loryn pushed herself to her feet, and walked into the Sailor.

What wonderful, whimsical writing this is, So silibilant, silly, and sensational, this, It's merry and mirthful, more and I'd miss! Basically, baby, I'm beat, But freely and furiously, still on my feet. Was that about right?

This real life drama reminds me of the time my brother tried to microwave a pop-tart. He was... shall we say a bit on the stupid side. Put it in for ten minutes. The result looked nothing like a pop-tart, but was black and had bowed outwards in the middle like a volcano. Nuclear pop-tart. On a serious note, I really enjoyed the piece. S'got a frantic pace and a tongue-in-cheek tone that I really enjoyed.

From a technical standpoint, (And it should be noted that technical poetry is not my strong point.) I thought it was solid, had a good flow, and sounded very nice on the tongue. All of which pretty much means the same thing, but compliments always sound better in threes, don'tcha think? My only complaint is the "your" should be a "you're." As for the material, I loved it! Simple and elegant, yet pleasingly full-bodied and heady... no wait, that's Dewars... In any case, I enjoyed it. Keep up the good work! (Yes, I'm headhunting for the AAA. Don't ask questions.)

The Courtyard of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword, 6:44 pm A little blue man stands on a podium, a crowd gathered around him. Wyvern digs his toe into the dirt, looking bored within the front few rows and Gyr stands next to Salinye, tapping the hilt of Redemptio with a small grin on his face. The Treant Hill Mob stands watch over the proceedings, backed up by a few wayward members of RTCYSIA. There is a somber note in the air, a stillness that verges with energy. And then the little blue man opens his mouth, and all is dispelled. "Hear ye, hear ye, Page and Quillbearer, Guild Leader and Honored Guest!" The blue man grins sidelong at Ozymandius, come down from the Tower to attend. "And especially Loremaster." He pulls a scroll from his robes, unfurling it and letting it drop to the ground in one smooth motion. He turns it outwards so that all can see, and proclaims loudly. "By the power vested in me by the Pen is Mightier than the Sword, I hereby declare this day in honor of the Lady Ayshela!" Murmered snickers can be heard throughout the crowd, accompanied by whispers of "What power? Is that even legal? What's an Ayshela? Why are we here? When's lunch?" "Let all throughout the keep tacklehug her on sight, and snuggle her ferociously! Let sappy love poems be written in her honor, alla the Wub Katz thread! Let us sing praises of the one thousand seven hundred some-odd posts she's made in just under a year! And most of them pure gold!" This goes on for several moments, as the temperature rises steadily. From the rear of the crowd, a soft orange light emits its heat and the assembled mages, demigods, etc, etc, turn to look into a far rear corner, where Peredhil stands gently arm in arm with something that looks like a human-shaped glow-stick. 'Shela, obviously, is a bit embarrased, and so the crowd turns back to Finnius. The little blue man, however, is in the process of rolling up his scroll and grinning ear-to-ear. He hops off the podium, makes his way to Pered and the still-blushing-furiously Ayshela, gives her a light tap on the cheek, leaning up on his tiptoes to do so, and nods to Pered, winking. "I trust you'll make sure she doesn't hide in some corner and wait this out?" 'Shela darts her eyes about, like a rabbit in the headlights of a flying whale... which, incidently, has headlights strapped to it. "Oh-dun-worry-about-me,-I-think-I-might-just-go-take-a-nap-and-maybe-fly-to-Antarctica-for-a-month-or-so,-you-know-take-in-the-sights,-the-penguins,-the-ice,-the-mountains-of-madness,-it'll-be-fine,-really,-please-don't-make-such-a-big-deal,-ok?" Pered grins politely and gives her hand a tight squeeze, nodding to Finnius. "I'll do my best."

I said a thing, I made a promise, Had such a ring, Had such high hopes, But then I slipped, I'd felt I'd lost it, My gentlest nips, Turned into barbs. The pain still stays, My heart still sticks, It's here for days, I won't forget, The thing I said, God I feel sick... My gentlest nips, Still barbed in me. --- *a hug, a kiss on the forehead, a happy tear, a sorry still*

Why, my eyes are green, Stick! Forgot to mention that, did I...

Blackness swirled around Gavin, howling winds cut at his face. He stood on the edge of a cliff, and waited as the figure in the blood-red robes came closer... waited with his hands at his sides and his eyes narrowed. His mind darted back to follow the chain of events that had led him here... he glanced back at the churning waters which crashed over monolithic black stones from the falls to his right. By the time he turned back the figure was nearly on top of him. He could see the smoldering fires in its eyes, the thin trail of smoke that escaped its mouth. Death had come for him at last... The figure sprang towards Gavin, and the boy ducked its blow, thrusting his hands into its guts, turning its momentum against it. He catapulted the thing over the cliff, nearly losing his balance in the process. A sharp grating sound, then a peal of laughter that echoed like thunder split Gavin's ears. Gavin looked over the cliff... the thing had caught itself. Long claw marks in the smooth granite led down to the thing's hanging form. It looked up at him, a thin smile spreading across its blackened lips. Gavin sat up in bed, a cold sweat beading on his skin despite the chill in the air. The darkness seemed to taunt him... he could still hear the sounds of laughter echoing in his mind as he laid back onto his sheets, damp with the moisture slicking his skin. ------------------------ "He's slipping, Hryn... I don't know how much longer I can keep him in sway." Loryn leaned against the wall of Hryn's room, staring at the single candle that shed a dim light over the sparse quarters. She tapped her temple with two fingers, shaking her head. "Your Gavin has a strong spirit, even for one of Althis' chosen. And what will you do when he discovers how we're using him? He scares me, Hryn..." Hryn sat on his bed, his hands resting lightly on his knees and considered Loryn. "If and when you loose control of him, I'll deal with the consequences. Until then, you'll keep his training up. I will have no dissension from you. Frightened rabbits make poor servants." Hryn stood and opened his door. "You're already late for his morning lesson. Hop, rabbit!" Loryn scowled at Hryn, but left his room and knocked on Gavin's door. Hryn watched only long enough to see her enter, then shut his door and went back to his reading. Saevus Sospita had turned out to be an invaluable source of information in the last few days... the old scrivener had locked secrets within his treatises, buried the locations of ancient artifacts in simple trade papers. He'd either been a genius or a paranoid delusional... probably both. Hryn had poured over his works and in them found the truth about Althis. Or at least as close to the truth as he was likely to find without actually meeting the man. Althis had been a powerful leader in centuries gone, and was gifted with a singular tie to the land... a geomancer. He shared this tie with his twin brother Mephis, and together they conquered nearly the entire Mephitic Island... the name of which was no longer any source of confusion for Hryn. Mephis had been peaceful, a creator. He was a proponent of learning, and higher arts. He'd spread the knowledge of agriculture, blacksmithing, and astrology. Althis, on the other hand, was more war-like. He'd ravaged entire cities single-handedly, and had formed a military institution which, if Hryn drew his lines correctly, survived in Hammerfall to this day. How Althis came to be associated with the Dead Council was still beyond Hryn, but he was sure the answers were buried somewhere in Sospita's rambling works. If only the man weren't so gods-blindingly dry... even his prose sounded like shipping logs. Hryn lit a few more candles and poured over the next tome. ------------------------------ Loryn sat across from Gavin in the dark. She saw his form waver slightly from side to side, like a cobra about to strike... the boy was far to strong for his own good. Luckily, he was completely unaware of that fact. In the last few days, he'd mastered everything Loryn had to teach... he could stitch his bones together in a matter of seconds, close his wounds almost as soon as they were made. He could skim the surface thoughts of any living man, see perfectly with no light. Only one thing had she kept from him... the power to influence the thoughts of others. It was all Loryn could do to keep the boy in check. And so she sat in the dark, facing Gavin, and trying to think of something to teach him... they'd been silent for nearly an hour. He must be getting wary by now... must be wondering why Loryn hadn't instructed him. Loryn shivered on the inside, nearly leapt to her feet to flee the room. There was a story among the dead... rumors of things the Chosen could do. Loryn composed herself and cleared her throat. "Today, Gavin... today we'll start on pyrokinesis. Fetch a candle." ------------------------------- And in such times, Natali Grass-stalker tore the heart from Althis' rotting corpse. He was of the Wild Peoples, and his hunger ran deep. The heart was fresh and hot, as if it had been alive though Althis was dead. Natali held it in his hands, stared at it for a span of time, and then brang it up to his mouth and devoured it. He felt a change in himself. Forever after, he subsisted on the life and blood of his clanmates. Hryn paused, and underlined a passage. This Natali Grass-stalker had not killed Althis, and Sospita had not seen fit to reveal who had... riddles within riddles. Hryn could almost respect the man. If Sospita hadn't died nearly three hundred years ago, he'd make a fine ally for the Master... they both shared a fondness for hiding their true intent under layers of vague wording and contradiction deeper than the Frozen Sea. Hryn marked his place and stretched, popping his shoulders and rubbing at his eyes. Pouring over the collected works of Saevus Sospita was draining stuff. Hryn made up his mind to take a walk, clear his head... maybe he'd pay a visit to Nanten the Tailor. The old man was decent enough company, and he may have actually dug up something useful. Hryn slipped out of the Lonely Sailor, and into a thick fog that had sprung up around Cold Port. People darted about, wrapped in layers of wool and silk. Hryn strode down the street, and headed towards the Merchants' Quarter. The fog clung to everything, making wisps as people cut through it and rolling off of rooftops to spread across the ground. It looked like a living thing. Hryn grinned slightly and stepped up his pace. ---------------------------------- Gavin stared at the candle, focused on the wick... it called to him, he could feel its willingness to burn. He stretched out his mind, brushed the tip of the taper. Nothing happened. He reached out again, grasping it harder... still nothing happened. Gavin gritted his teeth and let a low growl escape his throat... he could do this, he knew he could. He hadn't failed a lesson yet, and wasn't about to start now. He pushed his mind outwards, became a raging storm of heat, blistering his brain... the candle stood still, defiant and motionless. Gavin cursed and whipped out his hand, knocking the candle over. Loryn gave a low laugh, musical and entrancing. "Is it really that hard, Gavin? I would imagine that for my best student such a simple matter would take no more than a few minutes... do you need a break?" Gavin shook his head slowly and returned the candle to its upright position. "No... no, just I'm just a little frustrated... excuse me." He took a few deep breaths, calming himself, and returned to his exercise. He would get that candle to burn if it was the last thing he ever did. ------------------------------------ Nanten greeted Hryn warmly at the door, turning his sign around and ushering him inside. The man had been waiting in the fog, sitting by his own door. He'd been expecting Hryn, so he said. Hryn grinned at him and locked the door behind him. Nanten favored Hryn with a broad smile across his broad face. "So did Lonane find you well, Fixer Hryn?" Hryn turned to Nanten, narrowing his eyes. "You were the one that told him where to find me?" The tailor shrugged, spreading his hands. "Who am I to keep a man from his little brother, when he's spent half his life searching for him? I merely directed Lonane to Cold Port. Anything else he found out for himself." Hryn scowled and took a step forward, looking up into Nanten's eyes. "You know as well as I do that Mallon's dead, tailor." Hryn hissed his words, low and scratchy. "Why keep his brother on this fool's quest?" Nanten met Hryn's gaze unflinchingly and put a hand on his shoulder. "Is he, Fixer? Is he really? Or do you just not want to admit that-" Hryn slapped the man across the jaw, leaving a wide red mark on his cheek. "I suggest you keep your tone a bit less impertinent, tailor. Mallon is dead. End of story. Now have you found any news on Loryn Halgus, or do I leave you to your pathetic little clothier?" Nanten rubbed at the side of his face, turning his head slowly to Hryn. The man darted a hand out, into Hryn's gut, and Hryn doubled over breathlessly. "Don't forget, Fixer..." Nanten spat on the ground in front of Hryn. "I worked for Fexus far longer than you, and when he needs real, solid work done, he still comes to me as often as not. Now get out of my shop, and don't come back until you start acting like an adult." Nanten kicked Hryn in the ribs for good measure, lifting him halfway off the ground, and unlocked his door, rolling him out onto the street with his foot. Hryn lay there for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. His ribs ached... nothing broken, most likely bruised. He'd lashed out at Nanten without thinking... he'd have to apologize to the man later, but for now Hryn pushed himself to his feet and walked down the street holding his sides. The people that passed him gave him wide berth, noting the red heat that colored his face.

Just popping in to shamelessly plug part 2 of the Finnius test... The man behind the little blue mask! Hehe... yeah, so far Sal owns me. Liberate, liberate!

Ooooh... Shiiiiny... (Five geld hit the table, soft clink.) I'll take an avatar and a banner, please! S'about time I got a proper Avvie. Finnius is a dark blue, with black hair, and typically dresses in simple but tasteful robes. Color doesn't really matter. He's short, barely topping five feet, and can usually be found taking a nap in a tree somewhere or otherwise roaming around the Pen grounds. Thanks a million! Editted for misunderstanding the price listings.

Quizzy-quizzy-quizzy-quizzy... How well do you know me?

Sorry Katz, but you're not it. Have a flower anyway!

Temporally displaced, And ever in transit, More than just spaced, He's perfectly candid. Hater of celery, Smither of words, God of celerity, And breaker of herds. ----------- Soft and supple, feline form, In the sun, Asleep and warm. I stole those lines, From Watterson, But credit due, And credit done. The answer to this riddle lies, Within the sounds, Within the rhymes. And also in the first four lines.

A little blue man wanders past the Kissing Booth, noting Salinye and Ayshela, Zool and Xaious and a bunch of people he doesn't know... he notes the Grim Squeaker and shakes his head lightly, a slow grin spreading across his face. He smiles at Sal, and drops 15 geld into the jar, then leans in for a quick peck on 'Shela's cheek, followed by a light brush of his lips to the back of Sal's hand, and a final tap on Zool's forehead. He grins at the group, winks at the newcomers, and waves as he leaves. Ten seconds later, a bounding form in ninja black sweeps into the area, slinging pies with wild abandon and coating the three booth-goers, and leaving a stack of geld on the wood, still spinning by the time he exits.