Finnius

Wow, how did I miss this? Things I Like About Pered: 1. He's Pered. 2. He's got my favorite borrowable character, lets me borrow it, and doesn't mind (too much) when I have him do something a bit out of character. 3. Did I mention he's Pered? 4. Despite very definite views, he manages to not offend people, even to the point of making them feel better about themselves while disagreeing with them. 5. From the Rabbits, one of the coolest things ever when we were about to go to war. Pered called it "Positive Reinforcement." 6. He sainted me back on the old AMUBBs for really amateur haikus. I have yet to get better, but retain the semi-sainthood. 7. As has been mentioned before, he's a great ally in AM/TR. 8. I won't mention the politeness, but I do appreciate it. 9. He's got one of the best senses of humor *evar.* Even to the point of horrid puns, which I'm a fan of. 10. He's a friend, first and foremost, to anyone who needs one. And that's the best thing I can say about anyone.

Xiphias the Blinding Height: Tall Weight: Erm... heavy. Eyes: Green Hair: None Caste: Dawn Concept: Mercenary/Glory Seeker Anima: Crashing waves surmounted by a menacing er... ok, it's a swordfish. But a really nice swordfish! Seriously, those things are menacing. Xiphias was raised mostly on a boat, the sun soaked into his skin during the day, and the warm sea rocked him to sleep at night. He lived for the mornings, waking before the sun to pull in the nets, watching the red and golden glow of each new dawn. It wasn't until he nearly drowned that he left the great blue ocean. It was the largest haul of the season, and Xiphias' leg got caught in the rigging. A sudden gust of wind rocked the ship onto its side, and Xiphias was pulled over the edge. The rope held him fast under the ship, and as his last breaths were draining, the sea exploded around him. The Unconquered Sun shone brightly above, and he heard His voice charging him to remain alive to do His work. Xiphias felt stronger then, and the rigging which had held him tight burst under his new strength. He moved inland, then, and was soon picked up as a sword-for-hire, even though he didn't at that time know how to swing one very well. After all, he was huge. And the shiny thing was pretty damn impressive. Ever since, he's moved from army to army, killing in the name of the Sun, and always for the highest bidder. His tactics tend towards the incredulous, and have made him a feared figure on any battlefield; both to his allies and foes. For instance, he once toppled one of his own army's siege engines onto the opposing commander. Granted, this caused heavier casualties to his own forces than the other, but the loss of the opposing general was the deciding factor in the winning of that particular battle. He can usually be found wherever there's money to be made, or glory to be had; not necessarily in that order. Sometimes though, the Unconquered Sun calls him to do His bidding, and Xiphias can do nothing to rebel, nor would he. After all, he knows whom he owes his life...

Extension to vote: I voted Solar because that's what I have the most experience with, and am currently seperated by about 2000 miles from my core books, but I would love to play Lunars as well. (The two do occasionally mix, so it's not entirely out of the question.) Either way, yay for Exalted!

Ach, purism. Turn thy eyes away from complicated multiple target numbers, modifiers to said numbers *and* dice pools, multiple rolls for every aspect of combat, and stifling generation rules! I say thee nay! One target for all rolls! Modify only thy pool, and by no more than 5 either way! Generation means nothing! Let it go up and down within the course of a game! One roll to hit, no dodge roll, no damage roll! Glory, glory, hallelujiah! On a more serious note, s'totally understandable. I enjoyed the old d10 system, but there were a lot of things I *really* wished were different, and most of those got addressed in the re-working. I'd be more than willing to play either one, and won't deny the coolness of Exalted.* *See Tzim's footnote of similar persuasion.

I'm most comfortable, rules-wise, with the d10 stuff. Ran a Hunter game a while back, and consequently read all the source books... so, yeah, White Wolf is all good. Also, I love the system for BESM, but have never been able to finish a game due to standard player falling-out-of-habit-of-playing syndrome. I've played d20 enough to be familiar with the rules, so anything based off that would be good too. Otherwise, Rifts and GURPS tend to be too in-depth on rules, but I'd give 'em another try if that's the way it comes out. As a side note, have you had a chance to look at the new WoD stuff? It'll seem very familiar from the old d10, but is very streamlined, especially when it comes to combat. Also, there's a lot more room for GMs to play around story-wise without having to worry about stifling canon. Just a thought.

As someone who's applied for and not gotten jobs a good many times, once for two years straight, I totally understand. Take care, and we'll still be here when you get back.

Name: Tyndall Cade Concept: Iconoclastic Wise-guy Race: Half-elf Gender: Male Eyes: Blue Hair: White Height: 5'5'' Weight: 140 lbs. Tyndall started life a bit differently than his other siblings. For one thing, it's a bit hard not to be noticed when you're the only kid in class that has pointed ears and snowy-white hair. For another, he grew up in a small village on the edge of an elven forest amidst a hotbed of inter-species tension. The kingdom to which this village belonged is long since gone, having encroached on the forest one time too many. His mother raised Tyndall and his six siblings (Two other boys and four girls.) by herself. Tyndall, being the youngest, never knew his father; but his siblings told him many stories of an elven general whose army got a bit lost on the way to some war or other. They also never let him forget that *their* ears weren't pointy. Tyndall didn't grasp what that entailed until he grew up a bit, which is when he began wearing a headband to hide their tips from the general run of humanity. For the most part, his young life was idyllic enough; if you discounted the childish teasing that is inevitable when one child is distinctly different from the others. Still, his generally affable nature made him well-liked; and when he was old enough to leave home, he went into religious training. For five years, Tyndall learned about the gods, as was fully expected to enter the clergy of Heironous. Unfortunately, this did not happen. The night before he was to take his orders Tyndall's father came for a visit, and he brought his army with him. The elves had heard of the general's indiscretions and were less than happy about it. To make amends, General Jerul Cade would have to erase the past. Tyndall's village was burnt to the ground around him, even as he called to the gods for aid. General Cade took Tyndall hostage, and led him alone into a copse of trees. Tyndall was bound, gagged, and tied to an oak. His father stood opposite with a longbow pulled taught. He released the arrow, and Tyndall squeezed his eyes shut. A moment later, his bonds were cut, and he fell to the ground. There was a long cut along one cheek, and the arrow stuck out of the tree, still shiverring. His father, and the rest of the elven army, had gone as quickly as they had come. All that was left behind was the general's longbow and long sword, bundled with a message for Tyndall. "My son, I don't expect you to understand me, nor would I ask you to. Let it suffice that I have spared your life today. Don't waste it in vengeance. Take my weapons and find your own destiny, far from here. If you do not leave, the next time we meet I will have to kill you. When you are old enough, and when my people have forgotten their feud with the humans, we may speak on better terms. -General Jerul Cade" After making sure that his family survived, (The elves didn't kill anyone, as it turns out, which probably explains why Tyndall hasn't tried to kill them all yet.) Tyndall has wandered far and wide. His outwardly cheerful and carefree demeanor hides a heart heavy with sadness. He realizes the wisdom of his father's urging not to take up vengeance, but can't seem to stomach taking advice from the man who burnt down his happy home. As for the gods... well, Tyndall reasons; if they wouldn't do anything to help him in his worst moment, then he'll have no truck with 'em. OOC: Erm... me likey back-story?

A letter floats, Andrew Lloyd Webber-esque, down from the rafters of the Mighty Birthday Hall. Accompanying are several discordant strains of faux-opera music and then a crash as a little blue man in a rather tasteful black suit follows the letter, along with some scaffolding-rubble. He stands up, dust covered, straightens the plastic (Finn's a bit cheap.) mask on his face, and then slinks back up the stairs for a proper entrance. The letter sits, forgotten for the moment, on the floor. When he has reached the top of the stairs, Finnius turns, sweeping his cloak out in front of him. For about thirty seconds, he looks dashing, menacing, and mysterious. Then he tries to walk back down the stairs and trips on his cloak, tumbling half the way down. He once more dusts himself off and adjusts his mask, which is having a hard time staying on without any string. He clears his throat and glances around the room. "Where's Tam?" Pered, curled up and half asleep, grumbles a bit at the disturbance. ""asn't show'd up yet. *nyup nyup*" Finnius sighs, sags a bit, and sits down on some rubble to wait for his favorite vampire to show up fer his birthy-day party. OOC: Happy birthday, ye olde blood-sucker!

~For the Rabbits of Caerbannog~ The sun, he is rising on a cold winter's day; Looking down on a field where cute animals play. Stretched out in the morning of snow and fog, An army stretches across the shining plains, An army of sheep, squirrels, rabbits, and frogs, Awaiting the signal, the battle refrain. On the other side of the field so bright, Demons and angels are grinding their swords, Contingents of firey, ebon-clad knights, Smug and calm with their victory assured. But this will be no easy-bake battle, No feasting awaits at the end of the day, For in their last, gasping death-rattles, The generals will hear the Unholy Host say: "Oh, do not repeat the mistake that we made! Do not underestimate the resolve of the meek! Though they may indeed look small and afraid, Those furries have furious, far-reaching squeaks! They fought with much honor, with their backs to the wall, For each one of 'em that fell, a dozen more sprouted, And though they were small, It was we who were routed!" The sun, he is setting, over a bloody, white plain; The bodies are gone, but the bunnies remain.

Somewhere underneath a large, moblie sack toils a diminutive indigo semi-mage. The sack moves towards the scaled form of Mon-sewer Wyvern, apparently under its own power. Thoughts fly across the big lizard's mind like pop-tarts ejected from an overpowered toaster. Is it bills? Has the IRS finally caught up with me? A stripper? Er... mmmm... striiipperrr... A cake-in-the-box? Wait... that's a sack, not a box. What could it beeeeeeee? It is at this point that the sack scoots off to one side with a heavy, metallic thunk and reveals the small, sweaty man beneath. "Well, it took me quite a while, Wyvie, but I'm finally paying my membership dues! Half a million geld, in small, unmarked coins, just like you asked!" The assembled Pennites are silent for a moment, the only sound the scritch-scritch of a grasshopper being impaled on the Grim Squeaker's scythe. Shortly after this silence, there is polite snickering. "*huff* What? Anyway, happy birthday!"

Awwww... Meeeeeemmooooorieeeeeees... Misty, water-colored, MEM-oh-ries! Seriously, s'great to see you back an' writing an' stoof. Wonderful, evocative, and just downright enjoyable, as always. *tacklehugs*

*rushes in late, attempts a pounce and instead falls on the floor, scuffing his knees, then settles for a tired tacklehug* I totally know that feeling, and it's very well... er... eloquated? Something like that, anyway. As always, 'Shela, a joy and a pleasure to read. *le flops*

I'm tossing mine in fer the bouncing baby boy. Just 'cause, y'know. Either way, I'm sure it'll be a very lucky baby.

Oh bristles bright, and spiky-tough, Oh rounded ring of twist-tie stuff, How do I love thee, and appreciate, Thy handiness in chores I hate. When on my knees, in much disgust, I must then use thy rotund brush, I say a prayer of thanks to thee, Cause after all... better you than me. And finally, your job is done, And from the bowl of doom you come, And thinking how this is for the best, I put you in your cup to rest. Thanks, Toilet Brush.

Wow. That was really enjoyable. Thank you! Usually, I'm not a huge fan of free verse, but the imagery and flow of this piece just defies me not to like it. Really, really, really good.

That is, of course, if we ever get authorized. Meesa wanna have-a Wabbit-list! *Boo-hoos in the corner.*

There was silence, at first. The rain which had pelted Gavin and Hryn on the long, slippery ascent stopped as suddenly as held breath. The clouds above rolled on dangerously, but not a peep of thunder dared escape. Across from the former Fixer, the Lord of Hammerfall stood easily, a tiny bemused smile across his lips. Gavin, with the dark hair and darker eyes, gained his footing behind Hryn just as Fexus broke the silence with a single word. “Hryn.” With that, and with a tense exhalation from above, the rain slammed down once more. Thunder cracked fit to split the ears of the citizens unlucky enough to be in the streets of Hammerfall. Hryn’s eyes darkened momentarily, and he responded with a few words of his own. “Bastard. Let’s not bandy words, Fexus. We both know why I’m here.” Fexus nodded briefly, and then motioned to the pendant which he was twirling in his right hand. “What you’ve always wanted… Mallon Hloran’s soul on a string.” Hryn nodded. “Give it to me and I’ll let you kill yourself, with a bit of dignity.” Fexus shook his head and laughed. “Do you really think it’s that easy, Hryn? Even if you get his soul back, he’s dead. You killed him with your own hands, remember?” Hryn nodded, weary resignation showing on his face. “I know, bastard. But I’ve come to realize a few things recently.” “Such as?” This time it was Hryn shook his head, but with a solemn closing of his eyes, not a harsh laugh. He kept his eyes closed, and raised his head to meet Fexus’ gaze. “I told you I wouldn’t trade words with you. Make your choice. Either way, you die.” Fexus’ hand stopped spinning the inlaid disc, and he let it drop to his chest. “Then let’s get it over with, Fixer. Show me what I’ve made of you… I’m really quite eager to see if you’re everything I tell others you are.” Hryn’s eyes snapped open. In them, the ruby glow of Natayu burned fiercely. The clouds above swirled dangerously, a funnel of iron grey depressing above the top cliffs of Hammer Keep. Hryn’s mouth moved, a calm voice like low thunder rolling out of it. “I’ll only say this once more; stand down.” Fexus took a surprised step backwards, then steadied himself. The corner of his eye twitched, and a delighted chuckle escaped his lips. “I said come, dog!” Hryn let out a low, guttural sound, and let his cloak fall to the granite with a sound like the splintering of ice in the Frozen Sea. ------------------- Above Gerod Loghis, the golden glow of the land of the living was obscured by rolling grey clouds. A cold wind swept through the space between worlds, chilling him to the bone. The wind quickly intensified, burning Loghis’ eyes. Beside him, Dessina ka’Marca Natros tried in vain to shield her face. “What’s happening?” Dessina’s cry cut through the howling gale to reach Loghis. “The Chosen of Machia! This is why Balphinus removed us, Dessina! It’s taking us to him!” As suddenly as the wind had come, it was gone. Loghis touched his face, and felt the sticky warmth of his blood. Dessina pulled her arms down, and Loghis saw that the bottoms of them were scored and raw. “The Chosen of Machia has awakened… and history will shake when it remembers this day.” Dessina looked over at Loghis, whose normally pale face was covered in a thin sheen of red, forced out of his pores by the frozen wind. ------------------- Gavin slipped along the side of the cliffs, circling around Fexus. Hryn stood still for a moment, and then charged his former master, almost faster than Gavin could track. The Lord of Hammerfall sidestepped with a crack of thunder, and a thick, cracking bolt of purple shot down, catching Hryn in mid step. The Fixer lay still for a moment, and then the funnel which hung suspended above the cliffs swerved dangerously. Hryn forced himself to his knees and the clouds righted themselves. Fexus scowled and rolled his neck. Thin traces of white electricity danced around his body. Hryn’s eyes flickered softly, a red like the sun at dawn. Fexus kicked a booted toe into Hryn’s face, driving the Fixer’s neck back impossibly far. Hryn’s head snapped back down and he lunged forwards, the top of his head driving into Fexus’ stomach. They traded blows back and forth, while Gavin slipped behind the Lord of Hammerfall. As Hryn drove his fist into Fexus’ ribs, Gavin pulled back a hand, fingers extended and hard as the blade of a knife. The Lord of Hammerfall twisted, spun a backhanded blow into the boy’s face, and then whipped a foot out into Hryn’s knee, accompanied by two quick bursts of thunder. Gavin’s neck swung to the side, and Fexus spun on his heel, slammed a kick into the black-eyed boy’s sternum. A shaft of whitish-blue light poured through the boy’s chest, channeled through Fexus’ leg. Gavin gasped as the air left his lungs, and Fexus drove another storm-fueled kick into his chest. Gavin lost his footing, propelled by the fury of a hurricane. He slid across the wet cliffs, bounced once against the cold stone, and then skittered over the side. Dark, churning waters hung below him for a moment, and monolithic slabs of granite. The boy’s arms flailed helplessly as he spun downwards, searching for purchase in the void. And then he was gone, consumed by the roaring Falls and the black stones. ------------------- Loryn’s arms burned. Above and below, the space between worlds roiled violently. At her side, Loghis stood straight, stock still, and mouthed useless prayers in dead languages. Around her, drops of water and blood fought to impact whatever unprotected parts of her they could. At least the thunder had died down. For a moment, Loryn thought she would be torn apart, ground into paste by the gigantic rolling spheres. She remembered the vortex of steel at the center of the land of the dead, and hoped it would be fast. And then a voice like thunder split through the void, snapping her mind to perfect, crystal clarity. “Gavin!” ------------------- Hryn howled wordlessly, drowning out the storm above Hammer Keep. Fexus’ eyes bled, and he fell to his knees, pressing the heels of his hands to his ears to keep out the pain. The Fixer picked Fexus up by the collar, and threw an elbow into his face, followed by a knee into his ribs. Hryn threw Fexus across the cliffs, slammed him into the slick stone. The granite splintered under the impact. Before Fexus could raise his head shakily, Hryn was on him, a hand tangled in his hair and driving his head into the stone. The Lord of Hammerfall grasped hungrily skyward, and mammoth bolts of energy rained down onto the two of them. Water mingled with blood flowed from Hryn’s eyes, but he did not stop. Again and again he slammed Fexus’ head into the stone, hearing the heavy crunches as he did. Finally, the Lord of Hammerfall went limp, and Hryn’s eyes cleared of the burning red light. He stood above his former master, wiped the blood from his eyes, and threw his head back. The storm above swirled, an angry mass of flashing steel and rolling iron. ------------------- Gerod Loghis, once the head of a much feared and very powerful organization called the Dead Council, fell from the sky with an ungraceful flop. Just after him, Dessina thumped to a rest on the same cold, slick stone which he now occupied. A groan rumbled up from his chest, and he cracked one eye open hesitantly. He was on a smooth stone balcony, carved from a cliff of pure granite. The roaring of water came from his right, and Loghis lifted his head to see the most distinctive feature of Hammerfall. A heavy rain was just slowing, the last few drops falling to the stone with heavy thuds. In front of Gerod Loghis, a man wrapped in dark leather stood over the limp form of Fexus, a man whom Loghis had worked with extensively in the past. Gerod couldn’t tell if Fexus was dead, or just unconscious, and didn’t really care either way. The man was looking upwards, at the sky, and so Loghis glanced in the same direction. Above him, silent and eerie, was a flickering, rolling storm. Lightning flashed occasionally, but no thunder followed. Dessina gurgled her return to consciousness, and the man turned quickly. His eyes flared with a dull, ruby light for a moment, and then returned to a more normal hue. Hryn, dog of Fexus… who had apparently had a falling out with his master since his last meeting with Loghis. The dead man stood shakily, wiping the blood off his face. “Gerod Loghis.” Hryn’s voice was soft and threatening, steel wrapped in finest silk. “I killed you.” Loghis shook his head and shrugged. “Does it really surprise you that I’m still alive?” “You’re not alive, though… you weren’t when I killed you, and you aren’t now.” Loghis smiled nervously. “Yes, well… be that as it may.” He motioned to Fexus’ prone form. “I see no reason for the two of us to continue trying to kill one another.” “Except for the fact that you’re responsible for all of this.” Loghis tittered nervously. “All of what?” Hryn took a step forward, and Loghis took a step back. “Everything… my indenturing to Fexus, Gavin’s death, even the destruction of Cold Port. It was all you… how could I have been so blind?” Loghis’ eyes darted to the edges of the cliffs, then back to Hryn. He swallowed nervously. “What do you want to hear? That I told Fexus how to erase Mallon’s memory? That I gave him the idea to use the Hloran bloodline to access Natayu? That all along, I was pulling his strings without him even knowing it?” Loghis shook his head. “The first two, I’ll admit to… and killing Gavin, yes, that was my idea. But you have no idea why, Hryn.” A flash of red lightning, a crack of thunder, and Hryn stood nose to nose with Gerod Loghis. “Then why don’t you tell me.” The dead man stumbled back a step, nearly losing his footing on the slick stone. “The Chosen of Machia, Hryn… the one person in all the world who can access the Third Court.” Loghis’ eyes shifted once more to the prone Lord of Hammerfall. “Fexus thought it was Gavin… he wanted the boy brought to him, wanted to use his blood the same way he used the Hloran’s. Hryn, if Fexus had gained control of Machia, the damage he could have done…” Hryn cut Loghis off with a stinging slap across the face. The dead man went down, holding his jaw, and shot a fierce look up at the Fixer. “And so you killed him? You decided to bring Gavin into the fold, to keep Fexus from his prize?” Hryn knelt, a hand shooting out to catch Loghis by the throat. “You and your games… you and Fexus both.” Hryn his hand, shot his fingers toward Loghis’ face. The white haired man screamed in terror, and Hryn stopped just in front of his eyes. Loghis drew in deep, gasping breaths, and stared at Hryn’s fingers. Hryn pulled his hand back, and the storm dipped dangerously, a flare of dark cloud jetting out over each of Hryn’s shoulders. Like wings of pure shadow. “Don’t you get it? He was wrong! Gavin was never the Chosen, Hryn… it was you…” Gerod’s eyes widened and he went limp. “It was you.” Hryn scowled and tossed Loghis aside, into the still form of Fexus. Loghis felt the Lord of Hammerfall’s chest rising slowly. So he was still alive… Hryn shook his head. “I’m not the Chosen of anything, corpse. I’m just a man who wants what he’s owed.” Hryn walked slowly to Fexus’ body, stooped, and tore the pendant from his chest. He held it up for a moment, looking at it as if he wasn’t sure it was real or not. And then he slipped it over his head, retying it behind his neck. “I may not be able to return him to life, or atone for what I’ve done; but the least I can do is keep Mallon’s soul safe.” Hryn stood, looking up at the sky once more. The storm still raged silently above. Loghis watched as the Fixer stood, staring at the blackness, and silently wept for the past. ~The End~ ~For now~

!! Ohmigod! Snow Crash is so the best book ev-har. Me hearts Uncle Enzo.

*Huggles!* Woo-hoo! *bounces*

From under the glass, the sound of huffing, Though maybe a day or two late, From under the glass, and mightily puffing, Nymsy makes her escape. The glass flips back up, To the Pixie's annoyance, And cloth covers cup, For one last performance. Nymsy dusts herself off, And flutters her wings, Then gives her hair a toss, For the illusion of clean. She flits, twirls, then bows, Gives the glass a hard stare, Then grins in excitement, At what she sees there. For inside the glass, For one good last wheedle, Sits, not the whole thing, Just the eye of a needle. OOC:

Gavin’s mind raced furiously against the shock which threatened to overcome his limbs. His eyes darted around the corners of the rooms, looking for any sign of Hryn. Finding none, Gavin struggled towards the crazed, leaning door. He heard the soft thump of boots turning the corner at the top of the stairs. “Not that way, boy! Turn around!” The harsh whisper snapped Gavin out back to reality, and he spun on his heel. The tip of Hryn’s hand beckoned from outside the open window. Gavin took a few shaky steps towards it, peering out. Hryn grabbed his former student and pulled him bodily out onto the narrow ledge, pressing him face-first against the wall. “Now stay silent, and follow me.” Hryn began edging sideways along the sheer stone outcropping, his hands finding grip easily on the slick stone. Gavin teetered dangerously with every inched step, but he managed to stay upright. Several feet down, Hryn stopped and looked over at Gavin, who was looking down at the long drop to the streets of Hammerfall below. “Boy!” Hryn’s harsh whisper cut through the pattering rain like an ice-breaker through the Frozen Sea. Gavin startled, tottered nearly off the edge, and swung himself forward towards the wall. “What?” “Pay attention. Remember when I said we had three more floors above Fexus’ office?” “Yes.” “It looks like we won’t be taking the stairs.” Gavin stared dumbfounded at Hryn for a moment, his jaw dropping incredulously. “Really? Because I hadn’t figured that out yet. I thought we were going to waltz back in there, fight off a legion or so of guards, and storm the top of the Keep.” “Don’t get mouthy, boy.” Hryn rolled his neck back to stare upwards, then wedged his fingers into impossibly small grooves in the granite, pulling himself up the wall slowly. Gavin shook his head and sighed, then followed, trying not to look down. ------------------- A driving grey mist fanned out before Loryn’s face, separating into two distinct halves. She found herself suspended halfway between, floating amidst rolling clouds of slate. She turned her head downwards and saw a spiraling vortex of steel, rimmed with darting spurts of lightning. She tilted her head upwards and saw a blazing point of light, the golden core at the center of life calling out to her. She tore her eyes away from it and looked to her side, and was somewhat disappointed to find Gerod Loghis there. The black-eyed dead man floated disinterestedly, with a somewhat annoyed look on his face. “Gerod?” He turned his head, taking notice of Loryn with a wide, cracking yawn. “Finally awake, I see.” “I… guess? Gerod, where are we?” “The span between worlds, Dessina. What’s the last thing you remember?” “I remember going into the Tomb of Althis with you… being attacked by the ghosts.” “Yes, and what else?” “A chamber beneath the Tomb… with a wall that shifted and-“ Loryn stopped, shivering. “I remember. What happened?” “Balphinus decided it wanted us to go away, Dessina. Tell me what the wall was showing you before it sucked us in.” “It showed me… Gavin and Hryn. The last thing I saw was the two of them going into a room.” “How very interesting. What else do you remember?” “Gavin… Gavin looked at me before the wall went blank. He looked at me and smiled.” Loghis stretched, popping his neck, and then scratched the back of his head. “The Althane boy never ceases to amaze. I very much wish we’d been able to recruit him before that bastard dog of a despot, Fexus.” “I don’t think Fexus did recruit him, Gerod… Gavin isn’t the type to let himself be manipulated that easily.” “Really? Because if you think any of Fexus’ manipulations are the kind you’d see coming, I’ve got some lovely waterfront property to sell you.” Loryn raised an eyebrow, then shook her head and sighed. “So what do we do now?” Loghis shrugged and lay back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “We wait, Dessina. Wherever Balphinus wants us to go, I suspect we won’t be long getting there. Honestly, I’m a bit surprised we haven’t arrived already.” Gerod shifted and turned towards Loryn. “Unless it’s not sending us anywhere in particular…” “What?” “It’s fully within the realm of possibility that Balphinus is simply taking us out of the picture, as it were. Suspending us here between the realm of the living and the dead until it finds a use for us.” Loghis shrugged and yawned. “Though I wouldn’t worry too much about that, if I were you.” Loryn opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it and attempted to lean back, as Gerod had done. Instead, she flipped around, spinning uncontrollably for a moment until she finally righted herself, with a wobble. Loghis laughed pointedly, holding his sides. “Don’t worry, Dessina… it just takes a bit of practice.” Loghis’ smirk shrank a bit, though it never fully left his face. Loryn glared at him. “Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t your first time being torn out of the real world?” This time it was Loghis’ eyebrow which rose. “The real world, Dessina? This is the real world. More so than the one in which we normally… well, not quite live, but you get the idea.” Loghis gestured grandly, the effect only slightly lessened by the fact that he was still reclining. “This is how it all begins, and how it will all end. Above us, the sunny, golden glow of creation and life. Below,” Gerod continued disinterestedly. “The eternal meat-grinder.” Loghis shrugged and closed his black eyes. Loryn, for her part, decided that further conversation would be pointless, and stared forward blankly, into the grey space between life and death. ------------------- Fexus paced across the top cliffs of the Falls. He had expected Hryn to make his appearance earlier, and with more noise. That the Fixer would come was destined… having set himself the course of killing Fexus, Hryn would not stop. Could not, in fact. The Lord of Hammerfall had ingrained that into his most trusted agent for a very specific reason, though he now regretted doing so. Still, just because Hryn would never relent didn’t mean everything was hopeless. After all, Fexus had programmed Hryn with more than just tireless stamina, blinding reflexes, and a mind to make any scholar jealous. He’d also made him loyal. And if one thing could fail, so could another. And so Fexus paced, twirling his medallion absently. The rain still fell heavily, not touching him, but it now filled him with a sense of dread and melancholy. Everything ended. Even Fexus and his time in Hammerfall. Fexus’ mind drifted back to the first time he’d entered the city. The cheers of adulation, though they hadn’t been meant for him. The sunlight, streaming and bouncing off the granite buildings, making rainbows over the great Falls. Fexus had never liked so much light… he preferred the subdued elegance of candles, or the brief brilliance of lightning. Still, he reflected… it had been quite nice, for a time. The Lord of Hammerfall sighed deeply and turned to the ledge behind him, the one which overlooked the city of Hammerfall. A hand appeared over it, pulling a body along behind it. Hryn had arrived.

*purple blush* Aww... Thank ya's! Actually, my birthdays tend to be pretty awful, and generally I try to avoid them, but I do look forward to stoof like this. (Seriously, I slept through my last one... horridly ill.) Zad, while I couldn't get the linkie to load, I'm sure that the sheep eyeballs are... er... delicious? Or something like that, anyway. Big huggles to everyone, especially the ones who don't want them; and well-wishes to all of you today. (Hey, I can give stoof out on my birthday... after all, if you give everyone *else* presents on your birthday, instead of the other way around... imagine the amount of pressies!) *hands out noisemakers and party-favors, then disappears in a flurry of little blue busy-ness*

"What fun, those were! What silly fun! And the next one's even worse! Before this game is said and done, My poor voice will be hoarse!" And Nymsy spins and flicks her wrists, And gives the crowd a wave, And stops, confuzzled, pulls out a list, And faints upon the stage. The glass lifts up, the cloth comes with it, And Nymsy slides right under, And when the cloth pulls itself back, There's Nymsy! The Pixie wonder! OOC: Nymsy and pixie are, obviously, out. "The" is still valid, though. Editted for a misplaced comma. Stupid commas!

"Beauty, beauty, most devine! Your words are balm for soul and heart, And much more talented than mine, But our little game has yet to start!" Nymsy floats, and flits, and twirls, And once more throws the cloth about, Then tosses her hair in tangled skirls, And as the glass clears, gives a shout. "I know this one! I know it well! My favorite thing in all the world!" And there within the round glass cell, A chittering, cute, woodland squirrel.

"Excellent work, ye Mighty crew! I'm right and truly astounded! The next one, if I'm recalling true, Is largish, yellow, and rounded..." And with a flourish, and teeth like steel, The pixie swipes the cloth once more, And whisking it away reveals, The bright and early, morning star. OOC: Just to be a bit more clear, the morning star is Venus, and is the brightest thing in the night sky. (Well, except for the moon... sometimes.) You can see it near the moon, just below and to the left, if I remember correctly, and it is most apparent in the early morning or in the early evening. Enjoy! (And remember, "morning" and "star" are both out! Wheeeeeeee!)