Finnius

Mmhmm! *creaky old-man voice* "Why, when I was a young whippersnapper like you, we didn' tol'rate no disrespectin' our Elders! Why, if Wyvern're here ta see yer ungrateful little faces, all 'Why haven' I been approved yet?' he'd spin in his grave..." "Wyvern would have a grave if he were here?" "Don' you sass-talk me young man!" "I'm a girl! And Wyvern's still alive! And why're you talking like that?! You're only 40, for Zool's sake!" Hehe... good times, good times...

"Heya, Dary-" And that's as far as the little blue man gets before the pro-tem Death of Foxes is hurled headlong across the room, through a punchbowl, and into the "care" of a heavily inebriated CheerMynxer. Finnius stands dumbfounded for a moment, glancing sidelong at Salinye with heavily lidded eyes, then shrugs and takes a sip of (decidedly non-spiked) punch. "Yup, it's a party." As the room churns with the pent-up chaos of the Mighty Pen's denizens, one lone blue-skinned semi-mage leans against a wall and murmers to himself, and anyone else who happens to be listening. "Dancing, laughing, frolicking fun, Beneath the moon or in the sun, The Mighty Pen's for all and one, A place where writing can get done. But under the sheefs and writing cases, Beneath the hallowed halls and places, Lie still and silent, echoed traces, Writer's discontented faces. Another autumn comes and goes, Beneath the leaves, beneath the snow, How odd, how strange the things that go, How dark and dank what lies below." Having finished, Finnius leans back and chuckles to himself, taking another sip of punch and adjusting his mask before heading off into the swirlingly chaotic, and utterly wonderful dance floor to line dance with the CIA.

"Now which way to the- hoo!" Almost tripping over his swirly cloak as he is pulled onto the dance floor, the little blue semi-mage grins absently at Tanuchan, upon regaining his balance. "Well, hello to you too, Tanny!" Finnius nods politely and follows along with the SS agents in their zombie-dancing fun, breaking away only to do an impromptu Vincent Price lip-synch, just as HappyBuddha erupts into the festivities like a mirthful, voracious Mt. Saint Helens. The little blue man dives out of the way, tucking and rolling in a beliance of his usual clumsiness, and neatly swings back up to his feet just as the last mushrooms are disappearing into the Buddha's mouth. Finnius catches his breath, blinks a few times to make sure his eyes are properly working, then chuckles under his breath. "Nice toga!"

Three little words, unstuck from my throat, Three little words that I love to say, Or write in a silly, romanticized note, And just let you know, at least once a day, That three little words, whether spoken or wrote, Are true at all times, and true in all ways. I'm yours and you're mine, And together we'll stay, With each other entwined, Every night, every day. Think of me when you sleep, Know my arms are around you, And up behind you I'll creep, And speak three words that are still true.

After (finally) getting his swirliest and blackest cloak unstuck from Sal's front door, the little blue man slips around the side of the room, and is promptly bumped into/bowled over by a slightly inebriated CheerMynxer. Once again distangling himself from his voluminous garment, the indigo semi-mage lifts himself from the floor, offering the overly cheery feline a lopsided grin upon figuring out who it is. "Hey! Actually, I've been meaning to introduce myself to you three." "But there's only one of me..." "Well, true, only one of you right now, but I was referring to yourself, Cryptomancer, and Gryphon... could be me, I just tend to automatically group you three together. Anywho, my name is Finnius Mustardio Jalopini Canard O'Harpy... not that I really expect anyone to remember all that. You can call me Finnius, or Finn, or that little blue guy, or really whatever you want to." The white mask on top of Finnius' head cocks to one side, and he takes a moment to straighten it. "Well, anyway, I'm just saying hello, and we're glad to have you around... s'always nice to see new members doing well, and you three have been little bundles of energy. Well, maybe not little bundles... more like huge bundles, but I'm rambling. Enjoy the party!" And with this, the barely-five-foot, deep-blue bard gives a wave and heads off for punch, getting swarmed by pumpkin-sylphs in the process.

*resists...* *Resists...* *RESISTS!!!* *(Gives in.)* I am sooooo there. EDIT: As an added bonus, I'm both old and non-serious!

A small pause in the noise and festivities anounces the arrival of one Finnius etc. etc. O'Harpy to the Mighty Pen's Hallowe'en Party at Custos Manor. As the assorted eyes of the party-goers turn to the now-open doors, a chilly gust of autumn wind blows the long black cloak wrapped around the little blue man's form forward, like great polyester bat wings. There is silence for a moment, and another gust of wind shoves the hood of the cloak back, revealing the white mask that covers the top half of his face, twin streaks of red running out of the eyeholes. The wind strikes a harsh chord in the trees, a disonant and minor cacophany, and then a final gust slams the doors shut... directly on Finnius' cloak. The little blue man sighs heavily and turns to go about the business of unsticking his impressively swirly cloak from the tyranny of Salinye's front door. "Knew I shoulda just worn the Canid costume again..."

"From the moment the Order got here, I knew there was something wrong." "But Glister said-" "Forget what Glister said, he's an idiot." "Now, Bephrinas, that's not how you should speak of your nephew. He may be a bit... unorthodox, but he's still family." "Oh, please... he's an idiot, and you know it." "Err... Auntie Beph, Uncle Pered... I'm right here, you know." The eyes of the Polite Ancient of the Mighty Pen and one Bephrinas Dubois Jerendil, who until recently counted herself the most powerful and influential being in all of Delmargada turned to Glisterderlingas, a young (for an elf) member of Pered's rather extended family. The 'recently' being until Elrond Peredhil himself arrived at Bephrinas' request. She just wished the guards weren't so awed by him... would it kill them to remember that they were under her employ, not his? "Oh, right... you may leave, Glisterderlingas." The younger elf turned to go, only halting at the lower pitch of his extended uncle's voice. "Stay put, Glister, I want to ask you a few questions after I talk to your Aunt, and I'd rather not have to hunt you down." "Well, I could just wait outside the door..." Pered shook his head and turned back to Bephrinas. Glister shrugged and took a seat on one of the many cushioned chairs pushed back into the corners of his Auntie's reception hall. "Now, Bephrinas... please go on." The normally stunning elven woman sitting on the edge of the raised dais at the end of the hall sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Basically, the Order of Zaaskul isn't absurdly strong, but they are strong enough that they've routed the Velian army, the remains of which are helping me train what few we've recruited to resist the Order. The Order in this area are led by someone you might recognize... Keltin Nidella." "Keltin? Wait just a moment... Is this the same Keltin that you were dating before you met Rhynus?" "Yes, the very same..." Bephrinas bowed her head momentarily at the mention of Rhynus' name... her husband, who'd been lost in the crossing to Delmargada. None of the family had seen him since, and he was all-but considered dead. Bephrinas had never quite given up hope on him, but she was starting to weary of waiting for him to show up. "How did he end up with these Zaaskul people? He always seemed like a nice enough fellow..." "I'd like to know that myself, Lord Peredhil. The point is, the Order has excellent leadership, far better organization, better arms, and much stronger numbers than we do. I hate to say it, but they've got us pinned... you're our last hope." "Tut-tut, Bephrinas... and don't call me Lord, it sounds pompous. Plain old Pered will do, thank you." Bephrinas shifted, popping her elbows out and yawning. "If you say so. I doubt the Order would be cowed by just plain old Pered, though." "Well, I don't exactly intend to cow them..." *** "So just what are you planning, Finnius?" "What makes you think he's planning something?" Salinye and Yui-chan sat comfortably under the great oak tree in the Mighty Courtyard, although the amount of people milling about their daily business had lessened drastically. "Well, the fact that he asked me if there were any unused tunnels in the Underground of the AVV, and set up a big tent-like structure in one of them which he won't let any of the other guild leaders into kind of makes me think he's planning something." "Tent-like structure?" "Mmhmm... it's just a big white sheet held up by some of the Confessional's spare stools." "O...k... But still, that's not so weird. I mean, considering some of Zool's antics, or Wyvern's..." "True, but you have to admit, it's kind of out of character for Finn to be so secretive." "Maybe just a bit... you think he's all demony again? I mean, Pered said he wasn't, but still... maybe he just didn't notice?" Salinye looked sidelong at Yui, cocking an eyebrow and grinning. "Y'know, I understand that you weren't exactly around for that, but..." Sal shivered slightly, despite the warm breeze, remembering the look in Finnius' eyes, the overburdened veins bulging visibly, the all-too-easy sneer in his voice. In a strange way, he'd seemed more natural under Exophek's control. Strange and frightening. "I'm fairly sure we'd know if he was demony again." Yui sighed and leaned against the tree, cracking her knuckles over her head. "You're probably right. Well, I guess there's only one thing left to do, then." "What would that be?" "Sneak down there and take a peek while no one's looking." "Thought you'd never ask!"

Well, it's still the first here, but that's never stopped me from well-wishing the Big P before. Happy Birthday!

Silvery, slowly tinkling bells accompanied by the reedy, high-pitched whine of a pipeflute welcomed Elrond Peredhil to the small city of Velis. Well, on second thought... small by the standards of a planeswalker. Velis was actually the largest settlement in all of Delmargada, boasting nearly twenty thousand citizens. The plane had never quite grasped the concept of the metropolis, one of the many reasons which Peredhil attributed to its normal peaceful state. The plane itself was mammoth. One could walk for days without ever seeing another sentient creature if one wanted. There was no shortage of fertile soil, no end to the clear, sparkling waters of Delmargada's many crystal lakes, and precious few dangerous animals. So why a war should erupt here, of all places... "Greatings and well-met, Once and Future Lord of Rivendell!" Glisterderlingas' nasal, squeaking voice cut through the beautiful music like a steam-liner through the thinnest of fogs. Pered winced, then quickly put on his politest smile to face his second half-nephew thrice removed on his grand-uncle's side for the second time in his life. The first had been at the coronation of High Kith-Lord Matrelos de'Larke seven hundred years ago, and Glisterderlingas, or Glister the Blister as he was known in the softly snickering corners of the family, had seen fit to present him with a gift of ceremonial dragon-fertilizer, a very rare and highly-sought-after item in the magical gardening circuits... which Matrelos had never once in his life frequented. Obviously, the new Kith-Lord had taken a gift of dragon-dung rather poorly. It had taken quite a while to regrow Glister's arm. "Please, I wish you wouldn't call me that... honestly, it's embarassing. Just call me Pered." "If you insist, Uncle Pered... anywho, Auntie Beph is waiting back at the house. C'mon." Glisterderlingas turned into the wide streets of Velis, which were lined down the middle with wide-leafed oak trees, motioning for Pered to follow. Pered sadly broke the silence almost immediately... sadly, because it meant that Glister would have to speak again, and loath though he was to admit it, his distant nephew's voice grated rather badly on him. "So tell me what happened here... Bephrinas wasn't exactly clear on how a war, of all things, got started in Delmargada." Glister glanced over his shoulder with a wide grin on his face, which quickly devolved into a reasonable facsimile of a scowl as he related the tale. "Well, it all started about two months ago, near as Autnie Beph figures. That was when the Order of Zaaskul set up shop in the area." "The Order of Zaaskul... I know that name from somewhere..." Glister nodded emphatically and continued on. "They're quite wide-spread Uncle Pered, I'd be surprised if there's more than a handful of planes where they're not around in some form or another. They're an order of priests, heavily into self-denial and strength through suffering, or something like that. Mostly we figured they were just religious nuts, same as the Diatics we got a couple decades ago." "Yes, the Diatics... Bephrinas wrote me about them. Not very well liked most places, if I remember correctly..." "Yeah, apparently they've been persecuted everywhere they go for the last two hundred years or so, hunted like dogs and generally treated like 'em too. Which is surprising, as they're fairly nice people." "Ok, so this Order of Zaaskul moves in... then what?" "Well, remember how I said the Diatics had been hunted everywhere?" "Yes..." "Turns out the Order of Zaaskul is what did the hunting." "Mm...hm..." "So as soon as the Order finds out the Diatics are here, they start in on this holy war, trying to stamp out the Diatics; only the Wise Ministry of Velis gets in the middle and tells 'em to stop. Needless to say, the Order didn't take that too well. They brought in recruits from a few other planes, basically out-muscled the Velian army. So the Ministry tells the Diatics to pack up and move before the Order pinpoints where they're at, gives 'em the roughs of a backwater plane out in the middle of nowhere, y'know... for their own safety..." "Right... for their own safety." "And anyway, once the Order found out that the Ministry helped the Diatics escape, they went a little crazy. Anyone who wouldn't renounce the Ministers and join the Order of Zaaskul got their heads put on pikes. Auntie Beph and a few other family members have been trying to organize a resistance, like back in the old days with... er... whatsisname... Alenden? Elerdor? Illimdane?" "Elendil." "Right, Elendil. Point is, the Delmargadans aren't used to fighting... they don't get that the Order really will kill them... so it's been kind of rough going." "I think I understand." Glister bounced peppily as they came to the estate of Bephrinas Dubois Jerendil, which in happier times had doubled as a museum of Elvish history. Now, the gates remained closed and locked at all times, guarded by two hard-eyed Eldar wrapped in glimmering mail, hands resting lightly on the bright longswords at their waists. The guards rolled the gates aside long enough for Pered and Glister to pass, the pushed them back to their normal positions and took up their posts without ever taking their eyes off the streets. "Has it really gotten so bad that Bephrinas feels the need for armed opposition?" "Oh yes, Uncle Pered... that bad and worse." *** The Courtyard of the Mighty Pen milled with various and sundry individuals, going about their daily business. Under the great oak which stood resplendantly in the center, Yui Temae and Salinye Celestialgrace sat chatting and waving at the various passersby. "So you're going to be attending the Halloween party at Custos Manor, right?" "Not sure yet... hey, did Finnius seem strange to you last night? I mean, at the Guild Leaders' meeting..." "Devestating Blueness? Yeah, he seemed a bit distracted... why?" "Well..." Yui looked from side to side conspiratorially, then continued on in a hushed voice. "He's asking Pered to safeguard something for him..." Sal's eyes and ears pricked up, and she leaned in closer. "Really? Why Pered? If he wanted to keep something safe, I should think that he'd ask Ozymandius or Gyrfalcon..." "What? Oh, right... I keep forgetting you don't know this stuff. Actually, Pered's probably got more juice than both of them put together. Not that he'd ever really use it, mind you, but I think... and this is just between you and me, now... I think if he really wanted to, he could give the Dreamer a run for his money." "Pered?! Gentle, polite Pered?" "The very same." "Wow..."

Slink, slink, slink. The moon shines brightly as a little blue form edges around the corner, eyes scanning the immediate surroundings for signs of life and finding none. The form slips quietly through the great courtyard of the Mighty Pen Keep, past the oak tree that he naps in upon occasion, and into the Mighty Assembly Room. Finnius Mustardio Jalopini Canard O'Harpy takes a moment to admire the hodge-podge of wrought iron, solid granite, and twining ivy that characterizes his home of the last two years, and then closes the door behind himself before hurrying across the now-empty hall where talespinners from far and wide ply their trades. Sneak, sneak, sneak. "What took you so long?" The echoing voice of one Elrond Peredhil, Polite Ancient of the Mighty Pen, startles the little blue man almost half his height off the floor... which isn't saying much. He turns towards the stately form of yon Pered, hand clutched to his heart and gasping in surprise, then blinks slowly and draws a package, a small black silk bag tied with crimson string, from within his plain brown robes. "I ran into Wyvern on my way out of the Guildhalls... something about my dues being... er... due. Again. Say, how many times do we have to pay those a year?" Pered raises an eyebrow at the poor, flustered Saint of Haikus, who's been haiku-less for far longer than befits the title; and chuckles under his breath. "The Pen is now, and always has been, a place where there are no dues, only contributions. But I'm sure you're well aware of that, my good Finnius." The pointy-eared Polite-One gestures at the package in Finnius' still-trembling hands. "And that would be the... item?" Finnius nods his assent, halfway thrusting the bundle forward while his eyes dart into the corners of the room desperately. "Thank you for holding onto this for a while, big guy... just, er... remember about that thing we talked about? Y'know, the non-disclosure of packagement transferal?" "Packagement?" "Erm... yeah. Package...ment..." Once again, Pered laughs politely while shaking his head. "I don't think I'll ever quite understand you, Mister O'Harpy, but don't worry... I won't tell anyone I have this." The small bundle leaves Finnius' blue hands, passing into Peredhil's deceptively smooth ones with nothing but a slight popping sound. "Well, then... I, er... guess I'll talk to you tomorrow, then?" The stately half-elf shakes his head with a slight, patient grin. "No, I'm off to visit Delmargada, remember? Told you about it ages ago..." "Delmawhatsa?" "Delmargada. It's another plane, one which until recently was existing in complete peace and quiet. Unexpectedly erupted in a civil war which has swept through countless lives and shows no signs of stopping... I have extended family there, and they've asked me to see if there's not something I can do to help calm the fighting. So I'll be gone for at least a week, likely longer, trying to talk people out of killing each other." "Oh." Pered pats Finnius on the shoulder and winks at him. "Don't worry, you'll get there one day. And I promise, I'll be back in plenty of time." The little blue man nods absently, then quickly scans the darkened corners once more before slinking out of the Mighty Assembly Room and into the dark, cloudless night. *** Peredhil chuckled politely as Finnius left, doing his best to remain out of sight, and consequently drawing more attention to himself than if he'd just walked out normally. Ah, the silly things humans did sometimes... A shadow in the north-west corner rippled slightly, emitting a feminine "Oooooooh..." as the form of Yui Temae slipped out of the darkness. "Sneaky dealings in the dead of night, Big P? And with Finnie-kun, to boot!" "Not quite... lovely as ever, Yui-chan." Pered gave a small bow as the huntress entered the room. "He just asked me to take care of something for him for a short while." The Polite Ancient cocked his head to the side quizically. "How long have you been evesdropping?" "Evesdropping? I was just taking a midnight shadow-stroll..." "In the corner of the Assembly Room?" "Erm... Ok, ok, I was evesdropping... but seriously, how was I not supposed to be curious? I mean, with Finnie-kun sneaking around like that, and everything all clandestine and everything? Ooo! Is he all demony again? I bet he's all demony!" "Y'know, I think Salinye might be rubbing off on you a tad too much... but no, like I said, he's just having me watch something for him for a bit." "What's'ee having you keep?" Pered shook his head slowly. "He asked me not to tell. Honestly, I've probably said too much already. Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be going..." "Awwwww... c'mon, Big P... after all, I saved him from Dreamer-smiting, and that's worth like... at least a bajillion secrets." Pered thought this over for a moment, eventually deciding that a tiny peek couldn't hurt anything. He untied the small black silk bag, holding it open just a crack so that Yui could glimpse the item contained within. "Isn't that-" "Yes, it is." "And he-" "Yes, he did." "But why?" "Now that, m'dear Yui, I really can't say." "Awww... pwettypwettypwettypwettypwettypwettypweeeeaase?" "You're starting to sound like Minta on a pixy-stix fit. And in any case, it's a surprise. You'll just have to wait like the rest of us." "Us?" "Well, he only asked me to hold on to it, and said he'd ask for it back eventually. In the meantime, he's setting something up. Didn't tell me what, though..." "Well, schnikies..." "Salinye, Minta, and vintage Finnius... aren't you the little linguistic butterfly?" Yui-chan winked at Pered, slipping back into the shadows. "Something like that, anyway..."

Hope you get back soon and have a good time doing it, oh Fearless Leadery-type Person. As one who's been lost for a good bit of time once or twice, I know how nice it is to come back to this good ol' Pen Keep. We'll keep a window open for your ninjatic entry; second tier of the North Tower. Just make sure you vault over the pungee pit before you hit the floor, otherwise we'd have to de-pinhole you before getting you a stiff drink... or maybe a drinking stiff... a shrinking drift? Anywho, point is we haven't forgotten you either, and we'll be happy as clams when you get back. Well, not that I've ever come across a happy clam... (Thoughts that'll keep you up at night, eh?)

“Fall back from the light of day, oh spirit most ancient. Empower your servant to act in your name, and fear not for the coming storms. We shall meet them head-on and bare our faces to the wind; though it tears the flesh from our faces, we shall not stand down. “This we, your Chosen few, do ask of you most Holy Althis. Grant us the strength to oppose those who would seek to supplant your flawless designs.” Loghis knelt before an altar of smooth white stone, the orb of Balphinus cradled in his hands. Carved along one side, an owl and raven sat perched back to back peacefully, while on the other side they were locked in fierce combat. “Show us your divine mercy, oh spirit most ancient. Command the very blood in our veins as you will, send us to our deaths if it suits your needs. We only ask that we may spend ourselves in your glorious cause, your foes’ blood on our hands. “This we, your Chosen few, do beg of you most Holy Althis. Grant us the vision to complete your perfect works…” With this, Loghis raised the orb onto the altar, setting it into place lightly. The sphere issued a low hum, and a cold blue light shone from it, illuminating the underground chamber. The carvings on the wall were different from the ones in Cold Port; scenes of peaceful, desolated mountains flanked either side, with the curve opposite the doorway taken up by an intricately detailed relief of a man presiding over a kneeling mass of people… The man was distinguished and well dressed, and the lines of his face showed compassion and determination. His eyes, though, were hard and callous, not mention jet-black. But one thing stood out more than any other… from this man’s back sprouted large shadowy wings, which circled around the mass of people, at once protecting and trapping them. Loghis sighed heavily, stood, and turned to face Loryn, who stood just inside the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. “Come closer… tell me, Dessina, what do you see?” Loghis nodded towards the center wall. “I see a man with wings.” Loryn glanced over at the white-haired man, still wrapped below the waist in her cloak. He nodded. “In its barest sense, yes… the wall shows a winged man.” Loghis turned his black eyes to lock with Loryn’s. “The last time I was here, it showed me a man in robes falling from the top of Hammer Keep… I took that to mean the death, or at least the fall from power, of Fexus.” Loghis turned his eyes to the mural. “So why does it now show me the same man with the black eyes of Althis’ Chosen?” ------------------- The webs of Balphinus trembled in the back of Gavin’s head, humming with the residual glow of Natayu’s forced access. When the light which had burst from the diamond sphere faded, Hryn stood stunned and breathless. His wounds had all but closed, and while he was still missing one of his canines, the ribs which had been obviously broken were now straight as new. Gavin grinned at his former master and cocked his head to one side. “I take it that you were successful?” Hryn nodded dumbly. “Yes… and I can feel it in the back of my mind, like a caged lion…” Hryn’s eyes cleared and swept up to Gavin’s. “It’s… very different from Balphinus.” “I would imagine so. But here’s the question… what do you want to do now?” For a moment Hryn stood still, lowering his head to look into his hands. His eyes darted side to side, focusing only briefly in the center. Behind him, the orb of diamond flickered weakly, pleadingly. Hryn turned his head to gaze into its swirling depths, then glanced back over his shoulder at Gavin. “There’s a choice?” “There always was… you just couldn’t let yourself see it. Hryn, my only real agenda for you was to give Natayu another choice when it goes out, and trust me; it will. For myself, I intend to meet Fexus head-on. I will take him down, one way or another. You can come if you want, you can stay here or go back to the city… if you really want to, you can fight against me. But that’s your choice to make, Hryn. “And that’s the difference between us: choice. Fexus never gave you one, you never gave me one… but I’m giving you one. Your life is yours now. Do with it what you will.” And with that, Gavin turned and walked away, leaving Hryn standing alone. ------------------- Hryn stood alone and silent, staring at the doors as they clicked shut behind Gavin. The orb behind him threw flickering shadows against the stone, accentuating the stark silence that permeated the room. Hryn turned to face the flickering diamond sphere, letting his eyes slip down to the floor and the now-still form of Nanten the Tailor, who had died trying to protect it. Nanten had not been a bad man; he’d just worked for one… much like Hryn. Natayu paced in the back of Hryn’s head, thrashing proudly. Hryn could feel its senses supplementing his own, could feel its passions welling up in him. The thing was, as Gavin had said, far less human than Balphinus had been. Balphinus had been cold, calculating, and deeply intellectual. Natayu was hot, frantic, and fiercely independent. A voice like thunder whispered in Hryn’s ear. Go to him… Fight. “Why?” You hate Fexus… I hate Fexus… If you do not help the Althane boy, Fexus will kill him. “I don’t care. I told him this plan of his would bring nothing but death.” You lie… You care… “I do not!” Lie to yourself, then… But I know the truth… “Your truth, maybe. What do you know about me? What can a soulless machine understand?” Which of us is the machine? Hryn opened his mouth to respond, and to his deep annoyance, Natayu cut him off. Kill Fexus. The words rolled around the room, growing louder with each passing. A wind stirred around Hryn’s feet, whipping the remains of his cloak around his ankles. The voice of Natayu boomed in Hryn’s bones, creating a hollow thrumming in his chest. Do it! Tiny bits of sand and grit floated upwards off the floor, stinging Hryn’s face and forcing his hands up to protect his eyes. The wind pulled at his hair, clawed at his face and hands, tried to force him to his knees. Hryn’s eyes traveled once more to the form of Nanten the Tailor, dead and flopping about in the unnatural storm, and then slid to his right, where the great hammer he’d wielded had fallen. The orb flared brightly and the wind intensified. Hryn knelt slowly, and wrapped a hand around the shaft of Nanten’s weapon. No… it hadn’t been a weapon, Hryn mused. This was a tool, and not one that had been meant for Nanten. Whether or not Fexus realized it, he’d given Hryn exactly what he needed. The voice of Natayu was howling wordlessly now, tossing the tailor’s body against the stone doors again and again. Hryn lifted the hammer and slowly turned to face the orb. “Quiet down, now, before you make me do something rash.” There was a calm, dead silence in Natayu’s raging, and then the orb flashed once more. Do what? Hryn hefted the hammer over his shoulder, cocked his head, and grinned his new gap-toothed grin. “Quiet down and you won’t have to find out.” Are you going to kill Fexus? “I haven’t decided yet, and your caterwauling certainly isn’t helping me think.” Hryn waited a moment, to see if the infernal machine was going to start up again and when it became apparent that Natayu was, for the moment, cowed, he relaxed his grip on the hammer. “No, no I don’t think I am.” A dangerous growl tickled its way across the back of Hryn’s mind, and the beginnings of a breeze caressed his cheek. Why not? “Fexus, lying, manipulating, murderous dog though he may be, has something that I need. More to the point, he knows something that I need to know. So I’m not going to kill him, at least until I get what I want out of him.” And what is that? “Everything he took from me.” And with that, Hryn abruptly swung the great hammer in a horizontal arch, straight for the flickering orb that housed Natayu’s access key. The hammer came to within a hair’s width of the diamond sphere, then stopped, repelled by a crackling red light. The orb flared brightly, and Natayu’s voice echoed like thunder once more. What are you doing?! “Giving myself insurance. Gavin told me that you control energy, correct?” Correct… “That would include kinetic energy, correct?” Yes… “And I should be able to tap your full potential, assuming I understand it, right?” Again, you speak true… “Then let’s find out just how strong you are…” Hryn forced the hammer forward, willing the orb’s power into his arms, into the haft of the hammer, into this one swing, this one blow. The red light crackled and sparked, the head of the hammer wavered, and then the light broke, crimson sparks rebounding off the ground and dissipating. The hammer hung silently in the air as Hryn removed his hands from the haft. “You know how much force lies within a breath of smashing you. I can feel your fear in the back of my head, clawing and scrambling. I make you one promise: Do as I command, exactly as I command, and no harm will come to you.” I… would have anyway… Hryn smiled again, his missing canine giving an eerie cast to the mirthful gesture. “We’ll see. Remember our bargain well, machine, and remember this… what is broken can be made whole, provided there’s a will to do it. And broken again.” Hryn turned his back on the flashing orb and walked to the door, giving no backward glance as he swung them open.

Simple understanding means, I can tell you every tale, I can laugh, or weep, or rail, Drink from your canteen, Dry the desert in my heart, Let the healing start, And know you won't demean, Know you'll hold my hand, Know you'll understand, Know you'll help me be serene, And when the railing's done, And we're standing in the sun; That's what loving means.

Well, Ivan has come (sort of) and gone here, in ye olde South Carolina. We got rain, wind, and heat lightning. Man, we haven't gotten a really good hurricane since Hugo... maybe I should move closer to a coastline...

“A dark and terrible fate, to be one of the dead. Can’t imagine how you cope with it, boy.” Gavin and Hryn walked slowly down the corridors of Hammer Keep, drawing closer to the Chamber of the Court. The corridors were quiet and empty, although a thin tingle tinged the air, raising the hair on the back of Gavin’s arms. “Actually, it’s not so different from being alive. A little colder, and a bit of a shift in perspective, but otherwise about the same…” Hryn glanced over his shoulder at Gavin, cocking an eyebrow. “Shifted how, exactly?” Gavin shrugged noncommittally. “Well, let’s say that I were to get into a fight… when I was still alive, I’d have to watch out for things like, say, a broken nose or arm, or getting stabbed somewhere important. Now all I have to worry about is my heart and head.” “Don’t forget your eyes, boy.” Hryn stopped and turned to face a set of large stone double-doors, one engraved with a lion and the other with a snake. They ran all the way to the ceiling, fitting tightly against the surrounding walls. Gavin glanced over at him and saw a flash of uncertainty cross his face; a twitch in the corner of his eye, a slight turning down of his mouth. “Well. So here we are, boy…” Hryn’s eyes closed then opened. The traces of mirth he’d been wearing for most of the trip were gone, replaced by a steel-cold sheen of determination. He moved forward and placed a hand on the door engraved with the lion. He nodded over to Gavin, who pressed a hand to the snake. The doors slowly swung open. ------------------- A sliver of light widened into a bright corridor of luminescence, silhouetting two figures. The one on the right was slightly taller than the one on the left, and just a bit wider. Nanten focused on that one… that would be Hryn. The two walked into the room, pausing just inside the doors, which started to close as soon as their hands left the stone. Nanten stood before them, directly in front of the flashing diamond orb. The doors sealed shut with a soft click, and Nanten hefted the large hammer on which he was leaning onto his shoulder and popped his neck. “Evening, Fixer Hryn.” Nanten nodded politely to the man on the right, who neither recognized nor returned the gesture. “Nanten the Tailor, what a surprise to find you here.” Hryn glanced disparagingly at the hammer, and let out a small chuff of laughter. “Or should I say Nanten the Blacksmith?” The boy on Hryn’s right crossed his arms lightly around his stomach and cracked his jaw into a yawn. Nanten kept him in his peripheral vision, watching Hryn warily. “Fexus has informed me that you consort with the Dead Council, and that you plot to overthrow him. How do you plead?” “Innocent and guilty, respectively.” Nanten jerked his head towards the black-eyed boy on Hryn’s right. “Then how do you explain him?” “Gavin may be dead, but he is in no way connected to the Council.” Nanten shrugged. “Fair enough, but you’ve still admitted to attempting a coup.” “That I have. And what do you intend to do about it?” Nanten’s mouth stretched into an uncontrolled smirk. “Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?” Hryn shrugged and rolled his eyes, spreading his hands apologetically. “I just figured I’d give you a chance to step down and go on with your life.” Nanten chuckled and swung the hammer down to rest easily in both of his hands. A crack of thunder echoed through the room, and Hryn’s body flew backwards into the door, rebounding off it and landing on the floor with a dull thud. Nanten stood over him, the hammer crackling with tiny lances of light. “I take no joy in this, Fixer Hryn. But as our master commands, so must I obey.” Nanten raised the hammer again just as Hryn placed a hand on the floor and raised his head. The hammer swung into Hryn’s side, flinging him into the far wall with a sound of snapping bones. Hryn rolled down the wall and coughed heavily, teeth mingled with blood, clicking to rest on the stone floor. He raised his head and smiled over at the black-eyed boy. Hryn’s voice came ragged and half-choked. “If you intend to do anything, now’s the time…” The boy shrugged and rolled his shoulders. “Do you really want my help, Hryn?” A sputtering cough of laughter, and Hryn pushed himself to one knee shakily. “Now that you mention it, no.” Nanten advanced slowly, readying the hammer for another swing. Hryn wobbled to his feet just as the tailor wheeled back and whirled the hammer upwards towards his sternum. Hryn caught the haft just below the head, feeling the force behind the blow grind the bones of his wrist together as it lifted him just off the ground. Nanten’s eyes narrowed and he slung the hammer upwards, swinging Hryn with it. The Fixer flew over his shoulder, slamming into the ground beneath the momentum of the blow. Blood flecked his lips and he coughed harshly. “This is the thanks I get for dragging your sorry hide back to health…” Hryn worked his fingers between the head of the hammer and his chest, forcing it upwards enough to slip away. Nanten swung the hammer downwards again, leaving a tiny web of cracks in the granite as Hryn rolled aside and swept to his feet. The tailor turned, bringing the hammer into a horizontal wave which Hryn weaved around. The hammer spun back, reversed to catch Hryn’s collarbone, and the Fixer slid up and under the arch of the attack, coming face to face with Nanten. “You’re getting old, tailor, and predictable…” Hryn rammed his forehead into Nanten’s nose, feeling as much as hearing the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. The older man’s head rocked back and then darted forward to catch Hryn where his hair met his brow, spilling more of the Fixer’s blood onto the cold granite floor. Again Nanten’s head lurched forward, slamming into Hryn’s eye socket. Hryn stumbled slightly, and the tailor threw an elbow into his face, snapping his neck back. Hryn fell to the ground, eyes glazing over as Nanten raised the hammer for the final blow. ------------------- There was a weight about to fall, a weight that would crush Hryn. And still Gavin stood, watching with a cold detached clarity. Hryn’s mind fuzzed, his sight dimmed. The weight began its downward descent. Hryn’s body ached, felt the strain of torn cartilage and broken bone. Nanten had had broken bones, not so long ago… several in his hand, his left arm, his ankles. Hryn’s body rolled to the side, its leg whipping out to intersect the tailor’s left knee. His body rolled forward, felt a popping as his shoulder forced itself back into place against the stone floor as he passed, and shot his foot out into Nanten’s calf, the toe pointed sharply, driving into the soft muscle. The tailor dropped to one knee. Hryn’s body wheeled upright, seizing the chance to survive. He spun around, planting his hand in the back of Nanten’s hair and forcing the larger man’s head forward into the stone floor. Hryn neither slowed nor stopped, bringing a knee down with almost blinding speed on the tailor’s shoulder. Gavin winced at the sharp snap as the shoulder blade cracked. Still Hryn moved, rolling forward on the shattered bone into a low stand, from which his foot shot out into Nanten’s wrist. The tailor howled as his hand bent at a right angle to his forearm, and his grip on the hammer released as he retook his feet. The two stood staring at each other for a moment, breathing heavily and coated in their own blood. Hryn broke the silence first, his voice thick and heavy. “Give… up… and you… might… live.” Nanten’s eyes darted to the hammer lying on the floor, and then back to Hryn standing defiant. The tailor darted down and to the side, his broken hand grasping feebly at the haft of the great hammer. Hryn was on him before he could make purchase, the fingertips of his left hand jamming into Nanten’s throat and cutting off his air supply, then darting into his side just under the ribs. Hryn’s right hand formed into a fist and planted itself in the tailor’s abdomen, deflating his diaphragm. Nanten gasped and clutched at his throat, writhing and flopping on the floor like a fish just pulled into the boat. Hryn slowly stood up, turning to face Gavin with cold, burning eyes. Blood coated his face and his brow pulled down slightly where Nanten had head butted him. Several of his teeth were cracked, and one was completely missing. Gavin nodded and motioned to the flashing diamond sphere on its pedestal. Hryn wobbled forward, lurching towards the orb. Gavin heard a wet chuckle as Hryn’s bloody hand slapped onto the orb. “If this doesn’t work, boy, you’re next…” The chamber exploded with white light mottled with refracted crimson.

I don't want to be "me" anymore... I've been "me" for so long, And it's never really worked well. I'm no longer sure just what's in store... And please don't get me wrong, I'm with you through Heaven or Hell. But my heart aches for you, my dear one... I wish this could be done, That no longer would I be just "me." Here I sit and write, heart weighs a ton... When that day rises the sun, When, done with "me," I become a "we."

Tumbling tossing turning, Across the floor in fun, While my heart's pounding-burning, 'Cause you're my only one.

“What do you think it would be like to be dead? Would you even know that you were, or would you go on about your daily business, a wraith with no perception of time and place? How long would it take for the blood in your veins to become a burden instead of a blessing? “What if you could turn back the clock? What would you give, how much would you sacrifice for one more chance? One last turn of the card… this, then is the dilemma. If that card should once again turn against you, could you accept the fate you were given?” Fexus turned to face Nanten, the Falls silhouetting him in a sudden spray of mist. “Time grows short, my faithful servant… one of my own turns against me, as so many others have. Hryn comes to me with blood on his mind. He is resigned to death, he does not fear it, and this is his strength. When we two meet, he will not stop until one of us has fallen. “Thus do I charge you, Nanten the Tailor… be my hammer, my strong right arm. I have prepared a weapon for you with no equal in this world; I have bathed it in the blood of the gods.” Fexus turned the great war-hammer which he had commissioned upwards, drew a vial of magebane from within his cloak, and poured it into one of the holes bored into the head. “Have no doubt, Nanten… Hryn will kill me. He knows my every movement as if they were his own, as well he should.” Nanten’s head started to swing to the side, his mouth started to open, and Fexus’ eyes narrowed dangerously. He cut Nanten short with a small gesture of his hand. “I know of what I speak, tailor. There is more to Hryn than even he knows, more than can be explained in words… the things I’ve done to that man can never be forgiven. “All I ask of you is that you carry this to the Court chamber, and meet Hryn there. You’ll know what to do…” Fexus offered the hammer to Nanten, and the tailor knelt to one knee, accepting it. As he went to stand, the Lord of Hammerfall placed a hand on his head, forcing the man back down. A surge of pain swept through Nanten’s body, heat like none he’d ever felt before. His eyes felt like they should be popping and sizzling in his skull. And then it was gone, as quickly as it had started, and Fexus took a step back and cocked his head. “Now go… you may stand a chance yet, tailor. But be quick about it, that won’t last long.” Nanten swept to his feet and nodded once to Fexus before making his way into the bowels of Hammer Keep. ------------------- The stairs led downwards steadily, pitching forward slightly more than was comfortable, almost like they wanted you to lose your balance and fall down them. Whether this was because they wished Loryn harm, or because they were simply eager to have her at their destination… Loryn herself felt like whatever lay below was hungry. A monstrous child tipping its bowl into its gaping maw, eager to be fed… it sent shivers down her spine and made the hairs on her arms stand on end. Loghis, on the other hand, was trailing his fingers along the wall as if he were caressing a lover’s cheek. “How much farther does it go?” Loryn’s hushed whisper echoed and bounced off the stones, until it sounded like an insistent scream, and Loghis turned to glance at her with mild annoyance. “We’re almost there. Do try and keep your voice low, Dessina?” The walls refused to toy with Loghis’ voice the way they had with Loryn’s. She could almost hear them tittering behind her back. Loryn would be glad when they were off the stairs. After several moments, a low throbbing hum began drifting up the stairwell. It rose and fell in pitch, and a bit farther down, Loryn could make out distinct separations in the sounds… words. No words she could understand, but words all the same. Somewhere below, a group of people was chanting. The tunnel panned out suddenly, forcing Loryn to stumble into Loghis’ back as her foot came down on a step that was not there. They had reached the bottom, and as Loryn’s eyes adjusted, a faint glimmer swept the room. Around them sprang up the forms of men and women, black-robed and hooded. Their mouths moved in time with the chanting, and Loryn was surprised to realize that she could just barely see through them. Loghis bowed his head lowly to one of the specters, and crossed his arms over his chest. As one, the mass of ghosts bowed to him, and pulled their hoods back to reveal a crowd of cold black eyes staring back at them. Loryn’s heart skipped in her chest as those eyes turned on her. Loghis put a hand on her shoulder and locked eyes with the ghost to whom he’d bowed. Loryn could make out its face now, a woman in her late years, wrinkles lined her brow and the corners of her mouth were drawn up into a perpetual smile. Somehow this was disconcerting instead of comforting, as that smile never touched her eyes. Loryn wanted nothing more than to back away from this room, to tear up the stairs and into the forest… the grim forms which surrounded her were still watching her warily. Some of them were staring at her with a considering look in their eyes, and a hungry smile on their lips. Loghis removed his hand from Loryn’s shoulder and one of the ghosts darted forward, eyes blazing and hands extended. Loryn let out a sharp scream, falling to her knees as the wraith passed through her. For a moment, she felt as if someone had impaled her with an icicle, and then her lungs exploded with pain. Loryn could feel them collapsing in on themselves, forcing a gasp of white breath up her throat and out her mouth. Somewhere, someone was yelling… she realized dully that it was Loghis. Something about the wraiths breaking their vows, disrespecting their masters. After several heart-stopping moments, a reply came; a voice like thunder echoing from the walls themselves. “You may be our master, Gerod Loghis, but the woman holds no claims on us. She is forfeit.” “She is under my protection! I command you to release her!” Loryn’s sight blurred and she fell to her side. Loghis’ feet paraded in front of her face, the bare skin slapping harshly on the dusty floor. A rumble of white noise rolled through the chamber. Loryn thought it sounded like laughter… harsh, malevolent laughter. “You command it? Then let it be done, Gerod Loghis…” Loryn’s lungs burned brightly for a moment, and then the pain receded. Her vision sharpened, and she could see the wraiths take a step back from Loghis, pulling up their hoods to cover their black eyes. As suddenly as they’d come, they were gone, fading into the blackness and leaving only a faint glow behind. “What…” Loryn got out all of one word before she had to suck in air, coughing and sputtering as her lungs reinflated themselves. “What was that?” Loghis knelt to help her to her feet, taking one of her arms gingerly and putting it around his neck. “The keepers of the tomb, Dessina… the spirits of those Chosen of Althis who have met their demises. They are the ghosts of ghosts, and always they hunger for life and warmth… none are safe here save those who bear the mark of Balphinus.” Loryn shivered and ran her hands through her hair as she regained her balance. Loghis turned towards the center of the chamber shaking his head. “They haven’t been fed in decades, either… I really should drag someone down here for them. They’re getting disobedient.” ------------------- “Now which one was it?” Hryn stood in front of seven ladders, each leading up into darkness. His arms were crossed lightly across his chest, and he tapped his fingers against his shoulders. “Fexus was always fond of number riddles, and he liked to change which ladder was correct based on the day of the week… hmm…” Gavin stood behind him facing down the tunnel, where he could barely make out a large form standing and staring at him. He’d been locking eyes with the hulking brute ever since Hryn stopped and pulled a section of wall aside to reveal the ladders. Hryn occasionally glanced at Gavin and shook his head as if he was laughing on the inside. The thing took a step forward. It had a shuffling, limping sort of walk, like it wasn’t quite sure what to do on two legs. Gavin had long since given up hoping that it was human. At least with a human, he’d know what to attack… but aside from that, he couldn’t make out anything about the creature. It was as if his eyes refused to stay on it. “Maybe number four? That would make sense, assuming it isn’t past midnight… Gavin, have you been keeping track of the time, by any chance?” Hryn glanced back at Gavin and raised an eyebrow. Gavin replied blankly, staring forward without blinking. “It’s past midnight.” “How far past?” “About an hour… why?” Hryn nodded to Gavin’s back and scratched his chin absently. “Two, then. C’mon, boy, we’re going up.” Gavin nodded nervously and stepped backwards, looking over his shoulder. Hryn was already on the second ladder from the left, hauling himself up hand-over-hand. A sound of rushing water and a rancid breeze hit Gavin in the face, but when he whipped his head around to look back down the tunnel, the creature was gone. Hryn’s voice boomed down from above. “You coming, boy, or are we going back to your little friends’ house?” Gavin cursed under his breath and pulled himself onto the ladder. “How can you be so flippant, Hryn? Wasn’t so long ago that you were halfway chewing your fingernails off for fear of Fexus… I don’t get it.” A low chuckle floated down the shaft. “Who says I’m not afraid, boy? Really, how do you know I’m not just planning to turn you over to Fexus once we’re inside the Keep?” Gavin paused on the ladder, cocking his head to one side. “I don’t, actually… but I trust that you’ll do what you need to do. If you’re comfortable being Fexus’ slave and whipping boy for the rest of your life, then so be it.” Gavin continued up the ladder, pacing himself for the long ascent. “Comfort has nothing to do with it. Tell me, boy… what was it like when you died?” “Cold, at first. I didn’t even register that I was dead for a few minutes, couldn’t feel anything… and then there was heat, and wind, like I was standing in the middle of the desert during a sandstorm. After that it gets kind of fuzzy.” “Fuzzy?” “I remember falling for a long time, and then a stone city, like this one… only it was different. There were… spires? The buildings were pointed, I remember that much. And then there’s nothing until Althis.” “What’s he like, Gavin?” “He’s old… and he’s in pain. He holds the worlds together, and he’s just tired. He can’t stop, you know. When he bridged that gap, he became the gap. Althis is less human than whatever was stalking us through those tunnels, and he knows it. He wants to die, Hryn, and he can’t…” There was silence for a while, as the two climbed higher into the Keep, and then a soft whisper echoed down the shaft, inaudible if it weren’t for Gavin’s heightened hearing. “I know how he feels.”

Sunlight glinted through lush, thick leaves. Loryn stood in the clearing staring up at a bright blue sky. Near her stood Gerod Loghis, her cloak tied around his waist in a loose skirt of sorts… it was better than nakedness, but still looked a bit silly to Loryn’s eyes. Under his left arm, he held a black orb the size of her head. It drank in the sunlight, refusing to glint or shimmer, appearing instead as a sphere of pure darkness. Loghis turned his head upwards to peer into the branches, then rolled his neck back to glance at Loryn. “It’s strange, isn’t it? I’ve been trying to figure out how Hryn knew to go for my eyes… there’s really no way he’d have known that unless someone told him…” The dead man with the white hair turned to face Loryn, the sun throwing shadows across the pale, sculpted marble of his chest. “Tell me, Dessina… how did you manage to survive to come back to me? Not many of my agents have ever done that, and most of those were little more than babbling shells by the time I found them. Actually, I don’t think any have ever come back of their own accord…” The sound of her real name made Loryn shudder inside… it sounded so alien to her. Couldn’t he see? Was Loghis truly so blind? She wasn’t Dessina ka’Marca Natros anymore… could never be again, no matter how much she wanted to. Loryn squeezed her eyes shut, then reopened them and answered. “The Althane boy… Gavin. After I killed him and brought him back, Hryn forced me to stay on; to teach the boy, or so he said.” Loryn instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, despite the warm and cheery sun overhead. “I escaped during the storm…” Loghis’ eyes narrowed dangerously. He considered Loryn for a bit, then shook his head and started off into the sea of trees. Loryn followed behind, at a measured and safe distance. ------------------- The ringing anvil-tones were unpleasant to Nanten’s ear, but Fexus had insisted the tailor stay for the birth of this… thing. Fexus had poured over the books of Sospita for nearly two days, while Nanten gathered magebane. He’d found and conscripted one Whittikar Solin, a noted and renowned blacksmith, to forge for him a hammer of very specific description… as for the why, Fexus was as close-mouthed as ever. It had taken shape over the last day and a half, and was just getting its finishing touches now… it was large, and would require two hands to swing effectively, even for Nanten. The handle undulated where hands would grip, and would be wrapped in thick leather when it was done, but for now it was just a long piece of wrought iron. The head was wide and heavy, one face smooth and the other pointed. It looked like a huge wedge, or cone. It was worked along the sides with the lion and snake which were Fexus’ personal coat of arms. The top was a bit strange, though… Fexus had asked that several small notches be bored into it, and that caps be placed over these. Finger-deep, and just a bit wider around, Nanten could see no practical use for these. Fexus had been acting strangely for the last few days, and it worried Nanten. The Lord of Hammerfall had been seen mumbling to himself as he wandered through the halls of his Keep, snapping at servants and generally scaring the kitchen staff witless. He’d visited the kitchens several times in the past days. He’d dismiss the staff, and no one knew what he did while he was in there… no one except for Nanten, that was. The Tailor knew every hidden passage in Hammer Keep, and had been keeping a close eye on his master ever since he was called back to duty. Fexus would stand, sometimes for hours on end, and watch the pantries where, so Nanten was to understand, a dead man with black powder in his mouth had popped up one morning. He’d just stand there… his mouth hanging halfway open and his fists clenching and relaxing at his sides. Fexus was a formidable fighter; he’d trained the first of his Fixers himself, Nanten among them. The ringing of the anvil stopped, snapping the Tailor back to the current moment. Fexus stood across the room, his arms crossed across his chest, and watched Solin give the hammer its final touches… his own mark, small and nearly unnoticeable on the underside of the head. Solin hefted the weapon, testing its weight and balance, and finally decided it was good enough to suit the Lord of Storms. The blacksmith knelt and presented his creation to Fexus. ------------------- A small rodent scurried across Hryn’s foot, scared out of its hole by his passage. Water swirled around his ankles, and would have soaked his feet in unsavory substances had he not been wearing calf-high boots. Behind him, Gavin followed silently. The boy had a better hand for stealth than Hryn, had even before he’d died… The boy had come dangerously close to figuring out Hryn’s secret… his identity. His words echoed madly through Hryn’s head, half-true but so false… Hryn could almost remember Mallon’s face, Mallon’s voice, Mallon’s laugh. But it was all smoke rising through fog, drifting slowly to choke Hryn. And so he resigned himself to this mad plan, this storming of Hammer Keep. It had merit, and would have even been a good idea if the boy had been right… but Hryn was not Mallon. Hryn was not even a Hloran, not in the true sense. But, he mused, he did have Mallon’s blood in his veins. And if this Natayu recognized that, and couldn’t tell the distinction… It had certainly worked with the other Court. But then, that one had had direct orders from Gavin to give Hryn access. “Are you sure this is the right way, Hryn?” Gavin’s voice was little more than a whisper, but Hryn’s head whipped back at the sound of it. Gavin glanced around at the series of tunnels which spiderwebbed underneath the city, his head moving to and fro with an almost frantic sense of loss and bewilderment. The tunnels of Hammerfall had that effect on those who did not know their layout… To all but a few select people, this labyrinth would be an insurmountable puzzle. Luckily, Hryn was one of those few select people… he knew the city of Hammerfall inside and out, had known it since before Fexus took him. Every so often, those glimmers of his past rose to the surface and bubbled through. Occasionally, they were even useful. “Yes, boy, I’m sure… show a little faith in your old teacher.” Hryn motioned for the boy to keep up, and started down one of the tunnels to their left. They were close, now… the outer walls of the Keep would be directly above them, now. Soon the tunnels would fan out and slope upwards, into ladders and stairwells too numerous to count. Most of those would lead to blank walls, or worse. There was a sound of splashing water behind Gavin, and the boy turned. A low breathy growl echoed down the corridors and the boy pulled his cloak tighter around himself, then ducked into the side-path and followed Hryn. He moved close behind the older man and whispered softly. “Did you hear that, Hryn? What was that?” Hryn’s head swiveled back to grin at Gavin. “I told you already, boy… these tunnels are tightly patrolled. That was one of the patrollers. Most likely something Fexus had commissioned recently… I don’t remember him using anything that would make a sound like that in the past.” Gavin glanced back, and then followed Hryn farther into the bowels of Hammerfall. ------------------- The doors flung open, stirring up ages-old dust and releasing an exhalation of stagnant air. The dust fled outwards and coated Loryn’s legs. It refused to touch the skin of the white haired man in front of her, swirling around him in small twisters of grit. A mere breath later, Gerod Loghis strode into the Tomb of Holy Althis, a sparse square of stone. Four gray walls surrounded a long sarcophagus; the lid had been pushed off long ago and lay shattered on the floor. Within lay the skeleton of a man. Were he alive, he would have been quite tall, and broad of shoulder. A surprising amount of hair still clung to the scalp, hanging past the corpse’s waist, and bleached of all color… or perhaps it had been white in life. Loghis stopped and stared down at the bones, the ribcage was bowed inward and cracked just above the cavity where the heart would be. It was a common story among the dead that Althis’ heart had been torn from his corpse and consumed by Natali Grass-eater, a chieftain of the peoples who had once inhabited this forest… a people long ago scattered to the wind. “Beautiful… even once these bones are turned to dust, his presence will linger here for an eternity…” The reverence and quiet awe in Loghis’ voice came as somewhat of a surprise to Loryn; as did his bending down to lightly kiss the brow of the skull. He then turned to her and gave his characteristic shrug. “Come. What we need lies below.” Loghis gingerly reached down through the gaping hole in the skeleton’s chest, and pressed a small indentation in the stone. The sarcophagus slid to the side, revealing a long, straight stairway which led out of sight, and into darkness. ------------------- “I’m telling you, Hryn, we’re being followed!” Gavin’s voice was a harsh whisper, and he continually looked over his shoulder. Every so often, he caught a glimpse of a large shadow darting off to the side. “I know.” Hryn pulled his cloak tighter around himself, covering his mouth and nose. “By the way, the air gets a bit… acidic farther down. If you value your lungs, you might want to hold your breath.” Gavin shook his head and pulled his collar around his lower face. Hryn gave a small chuckle and winked back at Gavin. “Don’t worry, boy, it’s most likely just watching and reporting… I’d bet the city coffers that Fexus already knows we’re here.” Gavin’s eyes narrowed into a scowl. “And that’s supposed to not make me worry?” Hryn’s eyes tightened into a wide smile. “Of course it is! Means that either he wants to kill us himself, or that he has plans for one or both of us. Now hurry up before he gets impatient and calls the rest of the patrollers on us.” Hryn turned and continued down the tunnel, water swirling around his feet with surprisingly little noise. “Have I ever mentioned that you’re insane? Completely and totally insane.” Hryn just shrugged and motioned for Gavin to keep up.

On refusal, this I say: I refuse to believe, Refuse to dream, Refuse to live, Refuse to be, Without you. I refuse to think, That some small thing, A matter of no importance, Could keep us apart when, Together we must be. That money, blood, or paperwork, That lack of social history, Or lack of higher learning, Or lack of funds to do these things, Could sway my course, Could bar my path. Refuse to be, And rail against the storm, Head back and defiant, Until I am noticed. And then jump through hoops, And run 'round courses, And say the practic'd things, And do what I must do, Until refusal be lifted. No man, no institution, No slip of paper, Is match for my heart. Or at least I hope so.

All the freaking time... I swear, you people are far too talented for your own good. Erm... Well, yeah, unfortunately... *GROSSOUT ALERT* Surprising how filling blood and mucus is. *ALERT OVER* Have you ever laughed so hard you heard the start of a death-rattle in your throat? Or at least an out-of-breath-about-to-pass out rattle?

Er? Did I miss something somewhere? Monsieur le Half-elf a jerk? Well, only in the jerking people away from things that its best they not be near... like a big, three-headed chihuahua. Anyway, I very much agree with Big P on the question there... S'best to define yourself *for* yourself, and if you're happy with who you are, then it doesn't matter what others think of you. (Which, by the way, tends to lend a confidence that can actually be quite attractive to others... confidence = good.) But the point there is that we can only be what we are. Anything else is just a sidenote to the fact of our shared humanity... It's in the figuring that out that people get lost. Or at least, that's my take on it.

All the light that I need, All the warmth and your love, All the time in the world, All the rising above, All the laughter and tears, All the helping frustration, All the soothing of fears, All the smiles and elation, All the time in my life, All the things that you do, All of me that is yours, For this do I love you.

Actually, I really enjoyed Hellboy if for no other reason than it's pretty much word for word the comic it was based on. (Hey, the intro is like so close it's creepy.) I thought the use of ambient music was excellent, (Best Use of a Nick Cave cover goes to...) and the acting was definitely dead on. Also, it's always good to see Ron Pearlman working, and still alive. Then again, I was a big fan of the comics, so I may be a... er... tad biased. That and all the Lovecraft references that actually got ported from the book to the movie give it a thumbs up in my opinion.