Merelas

I believe in love,

I believe in fate,

I believe my debts can never be repaid.

 

I hear music play,

I hear dying screams,

I hear my heart beat, I hear everything.

 

And I know, I know,

Just what you meant,

My time with you was heaven sent.

 

But in the end,

It could not be,

I was wrong for you, but you were right for me.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

This is a fairly good poem, however the links in between leave little information to justify the feelings that are being conveyed. Also, the rhythm (spelling?) is a little off. The first two stanzas have a syllable count of 5/5/11, while the third has an awkward 5/4/8, and the fourth, 4/4/11. The A/B/B rhyme scheme is a little awkward, but I believe it works well in every stanza except the first--I'm not a fan of unperfect rhymes, and I would reccomend changing the fate/repaid one. If I were to completely revamp the poem, it would go something like this:

 

I believe in Love (capitalized for emphasis... just a visual thing)

I believe in Fate

The cost of my debts is a huge, heavy weight.

 

I hear music play,

I hear dying screams

I hear and see everything at night in dreams. (changed for a better rhyme imo, but keeps the content)

 

And I know so well

Just what you had meant (added a syllable)

My time with you was bliss--it was heaven sent (again, syllables)

 

At the very end (syllables)

It was not to be (syllabels)

I was wrong for you... but you were right for me. (added the dotdotdot because it seemed like the pause would add emphasis... and I like dotdotdots )

And now it's Saturday!! Whoo.

:The view is amazing...:

 

:There is beauty in nature, Merelas. The natural flow of things without disruptions from things like what happened last night is beautiful... that is why it must be protected,: Chrissiannia said to his mind.

 

He blinked. It was times like this when Kushel or Chrissiannia shared some unexpected bit of wisdom, philosophy, or truth that he was most humbled. He scouted around from his vantage point at one of the tallest trees in the forest. The sun was descending from it's position high in the sky, and a little pink and orange were starting to fringe the summer blue sky. This was the cue for Merelas to descend from the tree and return to the hostel. Taking one last glance at the sky, the forest, and the view from the treetop, he quickly shimmied down the drunk, darting from branch to branch quickly with elven grace.

 

Once he was firmly on the ground again, he took up his cloak which he had left on the ground at the base of the tree, since it would hinder his climbing. He swept back to the castle at a light jog, and eventually came to the foyer of it.

 

As he entered, the old druid came bustling up to him. "Sir, you wanted to know when Lady Salinye was able to entertain visitors again? Well she's ready," he said, and Merelas nodded in response.

 

He made a quick trip to his chambers, and changed out of his patrol clothes and into something more suitable. His leather trousers and regular tunic were exchanged for similar items, but these were dark blue. He ran a comb through his hair quickly, making himself somewhat more presentable before moving to the door in order to go and speak to Salinye.

 

He found his way to her office after a few trips that ended up getting him lost, and he knocked on the door. A voice from within told him to enter, and he did so. Striding in, he saw the Lady of the Hostel sitting at her desk, looking at a map.

 

He bowed. “Lady Salinye, I am Merelas en’Bella, and I had to come and express my gratitude to you. Your actions probably saved my life.”

 

Salinye blushed slightly, and said, “It was nothing. Only what any decent person would have done.”

 

Merelas rose out of his bow, and looked at her. She truly was beautiful—a simple gown that looked a thousand times more elegant when she wore it, immaculate hair (except for one stubborn lock), and a beautiful, honest face.

 

She glanced at him, apparently sizing him up. “So… was there anything else then?” she asked somewhat shortly…

 

She doesn’t trust me, he thought slowly, before finding his voice.

“Yes,” he said, pulling his shoulder-length hair out of his face. “I wanted to offer my services… if I could assist you in any way… it’s the least I could do,” he said choppily—the realization that she did not yet trust him had bothered him somewhat. He had originally been intending to ask her what she had said to him on the rooftop, but that thought was long gone now.

 

She turned from him then, and paced the room a bit. After a few moments, she nodded. “If you could… I would like you to gather everyone for a meeting about what’s happened, and what we do from here. Say… tomorrow morning.”

 

She looked at him hopefully, and Merelas nodded immediately, then bowed. “At once, my Lady,” and he bowed himself out.

 

Well… that wasn’t quite what he had hoped for. She seemed cold towards him, although he couldn’t for the life of him think why. He had fought the onslaught just as the rest of them had.

 

But he had work to do. Sighting around for any of the party that had fought against the undead, he quickly went about informing them all that they were supposed to meet in Salinye’s office the next morning.

 

OOC: Many, *many* apologies for the delay! I was writing the post in word in case my internet died, and then I got disconnected and wasn't able to put it up even though I had marked my place. I'm sorry to all who read it and found the place-holder!

Good evening everyone!

 

I'm proud to sponsor our Carnival's Write-in Competition! I'm sure most of you have participated in contests or exercises such as this before. Below, I have a list of 30 words which (if you participate) you will be required to work into a creative work of any medium. For participating, *every* person will recieve 5 geld. The person with the best entry (as judged by myself) will receive an additional 20 geld. Second place, 15 geld, and third, 10 geld.

 

The list of words are as follows:

 

Flames

Spade (as in, shovel)

Green

Monday

Reach

Early

Often

Potato

Each

Somber

Quizzical

Defendant

Portly

Dread

Smite

Angry

Nightingale

Priest

Garbage

Rubbish

Trash

Exact

Blinding

Quill

Rest

Calendar

Mighty

 

Good Luck to everyone!

Shuffles uncomfortably

 

Yes, well... I have committed myself to opening a booth also, and I'm working on it, should be up soon. Where do we post such things, Salinye?

Hmm... I think it's just called Minstrel in the Gallery by... Jethro something or other... maybe?

Merelas sidles up to the booth, grinning widely, and clinks 10 geld into the jar, winking at each of the ladies, before smiling and kissing each on the forehead.

 

"I've already had my go at Salinye, and almost got me a slug in the face... and Ayshela is too sweet to humiliate," he says, before grinning at everyone, chucking a pie at the portrait of Zool, and donating another 10 geld.

 

"That was just fun," he says, before striding off.

Sighs

 

Only because Salinye has already manipulated me into agreeing, I will volunteer myself. I hope it'll be fun.

(OOC: This was written to take place after the incident with Yui, which I’m assuming will someday have it’s own RP thread in the conservatory, which will be fun! Also, many thanks to Valdar and his patience for putting up with my endless questions about the void, as well as everything associated with it. The Valdar Stories, The First Scars, especially, were an inspiration as I created and continue to create this work.)

 

BIC:

 

“You fool! You could’ve gotten yourself killed… I told you, the realm of fire leaves deeper tracks than that of either shadow, or the void! I told you that he had marked you, and remembered who you were. You are damn lucky he never found you,” lectured Valdar.

 

I had just found my way back into the Drawing Room, via the fireplace. Two weeks of searching for Yui Temae after her hasty flight from the Keep that night when… whatever it was happened. I think it was at this point, before he launched in on his second lecture that I passed out.

 

I awoke to see Salinye looking down over me in the hospital wing. Her beautiful blond curls (and that one particularly unruly one) hung over her face, and she looked slightly frightening like this, as though golden tentacles were attacking me from her face. I jumped.

 

“Bright Star! Merelas, what’s wrong?” Salinye called, jumping back a bit.

 

“What? Oh… nothing… you just… startled me, is all,” I said slowly, eventually coming to terms with where I was and what had happened. My head was pounding, but I forced myself to sit up anyways. Grasping my head between both hands, and wincing for a moment, I inquired of the mage before me, “What time is it? How long have I been out? Is Yui—?”

 

“Shh… Yui is safe, wherever she is… Valdar assures us that if she were harmed, he would have known by now. Aegon has come since you left, and he’s worried sick. And for your information, it is a little past midday, and you have been unconscious for three days,” Salinye replied, with all of her usual calmness and grace.

 

“Three days… how…?” the pounding wouldn’t stop, and it was greatly interfering with my ability to think. I rubbed my temples gingerly, and then fumbled at my neck for Chrissiania’s Jewel.

 

:Chris, dear… I could really use a respite from the pain, if you don’t mind:

 

:Merelas… I believe that you have come to depend on Kushel and myself far too much. I’m afraid that I cannot offer you my abilities this day. Seek help from those around you.:

 

With that, she blocked my mind… I could always feel it when she did that… it was a sort of walling off, as if I couldn’t even think about the jewel, her, or Kushel very well.

 

“Damned thing,” I muttered, and Salinye gaped at me in surprise.

 

“Merelas… you don’t curse…” she said.

 

“I learned a few words while I was on my… quest, you could say. Sal… is there any way a healer could cure this headache… it’s killing me. I can’t even think, and I need to get up and function.”

 

“Well… the healers aren’t in right now, but… I suppose I could make you some herb tea. Would that help?”

 

Restraining the urge to yell at the absence of healers and my artifact’s refusal to cooperate, I nodded with my teeth gritted.

 

As Salinye walked over to the work-counter (healers were always mixing herbs and other things), she looked at me curiously. Only after a several moments did she break my gaze.

 

“What?” I asked her, as I had never taken kindly to people staring at me.

 

“Well… it’s just…”

 

“Salinye, out with it!”

 

“Well… we didn’t know if you were even still alive. You were gone for two weeks, and Valdar said that he couldn’t tell if you had been killed… he didn’t know enough about your firewalking to tell, he said. We were all so worried.”

 

“Well, I’m back, aren’t I?”

 

“Well, yes, but you’re—“

 

“Chopped up?” I asked, cutting her off.

 

“Yes,” she answered, after wincing at the terms I had used. She was obviously referring to the gashes and cuts that I had sustained while I was searching for Yui. I was never hurt while in the fires, but I had to go out sometimes. For rest, especially, it was dangerous to stay in the flames. Most times, I had to appear in the grate of some inn or commonplace that wasn’t being too carefully watched. Usually I had pulled it off well enough, but unfortunately, when I was exhausted sometimes from three days without rest, I couldn’t be so graceful on my re-entry.

 

People didn’t take kindly to me barging in through the fireplace, without so much as a knock. And then, after that, there were fights. I sustained enough wounds to severely slow me down… that was the only reason that I had come back to the pen. If I had been able to go on, I would have.

 

I had accomplished absolutely nothing. That was what bothered me most, I think—the fact that I had been gone for two weeks with maybe four days where I stopped moving. It angered me to no end.

 

And as soon as I was up and feeling better, I would be moving again.

 

Out of the frying pan, into the fire, I thought to myself, and enjoyed a bit of my own joke. Presently, Salinye returned with a cup of steaming peppermint tea, which I accepted gratefully, and sipped.

 

As I drank, she watched me. I got the distinct feeling that she wanted to say something, but was holding back.

 

“Salinye, if you want to ask me something, then ask,” I said, after a few moments of uneasy silence.

 

She hesitated. After another moment or two, she plunged in. “I was wondering… if you saw her? Or if you found her? When you asked about her, it seemed as if—“

 

“No. I didn’t find her,” I said, rather coldly. I avoided her eyes, but I could hear the hurt in her voice, as she replied softly, “Oh.”

 

We sat for a few minutes more, with me sipping the tea that she had made me, before she stood, saying, “Well… I’ll be back, or I’ll send someone in later to check on you. You should sleep some, it will do you good,” she said the last part over her shoulder on the way out, and I could tell that I had hurt her feelings. As sad as it was… at the moment, I really didn’t care. I was too tired, too hell-bent on my cause to care.

 

I finished the last of the tea, and set the cup and saucer on the floor next to the infirmary bed. Leaning back, and resting my head on the pillow, I wondered how I would ever find Yui, in the vast expanse of the multi-verse. What if I did manage to find her? What would I do? What would I say? Slowly, my eyes closed, and I yielded to sleep.

 

They were closing. Quickly, I twirled, almost pirouetting—:Extend!: the whip sprang to obey, lashing out savagely at those who charged in, the barbed ends of it sending them sprawling as fast as they could come.

 

Faster and faster I spun, never stopping. It was as though I were a ballerina, nearly, and I used all of my strength and elven grace to continue the spin. Finally, I had cut a circle around me about ten feet in diameter. I slowed to a stop, and was dizzy for a moment from twirling for so long.

 

:Coil!: I thought, and flicked my wrist upwards. The whip sprang towards me, and wrapped around my body, over my right shoulder, under my left, and over again.

 

Grasping Brightflame, with both hands on the hilt now, I held it straight up, arms extended. Closing my eyes, I called upon the power of my ancestors—my power—the power of fire.

 

Immediately, it sprang up all around me, as an inferno of flame, crackling and hissing at my enemies, daring them to come and attack. A ring of fire surrounded me now, aside from the inferno itself, burning blue. As one poor sap charged through it, he was burnt to a crisp before ever reaching me.

 

“Flame of Shroleyannè!” I bellowed to the sword, and I swept it down before me with a flourish. A jet of liquid flame burst from the tip. Like a giant eraser removing an artist’s marks, the flame decimated any who came before it.

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. One of the pursuers had vaulted the flame ring, and were inside the circle now. Quickly, I doused the flame, and moved to strike him down with the sword of my fathers—

 

Too late. Even before he touched the “floor” of the void, his longsword made an arc that came right across my throat. My head bent backwards—

 

“NO!!” I screamed, sitting bolt upright in bed, turning and kicking my legs out, and scattering the cup and saucer that had been there. They shattered, the broken pieces spreading across the floor of the infirmary. I sat, with my head held in my hands, as the attendants came rushing to my side.

 

I’d had the same dream, again.

 

“Mr. en’Bella! Are you all right, sir?” One of the healers rushed in—she was beautiful, with chestnut hair that trailed down her back. Concern marked up her pretty face as she looked over me. Slowly, realizing that I hadn’t responded, I nodded, and spoke… “Get me Valdar.” It was a croak, really, but she understood, and fled the infirmary with haste in her steps.

 

The others came and checked my pulse, then my aura, and then searched for curses and enchantments before I finally threw them out, angrily. In this state, I couldn’t stand to have them hanging over me like a paralyzed little child. Luckily for me, there were no other patients in the ward, and I had free reign.

 

It was almost an hour before that healer came back. She informed me that Valdar had left the keep, the day I had returned, but that he had promised to come back within a week.

 

Four days, I thought… It could be four days before he gets back. I shook my head, dismayed. There was nothing else for it—I would have to wait.

 

The healers and their assistants were more than kind to me as they performed their duties over my nearly broken body. I was grateful to them, but at the same time, angry that I could not act. I would wind up in fits of screaming, and terrifying the healers to no end. Usually they would wind up fleeing the ward, and leaving me to myself. There had still been no word from Yui or Valdar, and I was worried. Salinye, Gyrfalcon, Peredhil, Ayshela and others visited me regularly, with much the same results. I always ended up offending them in some way, until one day Gyrfalcon made me see sense.

 

We had been arguing about something… I forget what it was exactly now, but it had been terrible. I had started shouting, and had risen to my feet. He threw the punch suddenly—I never saw it coming. He was so strong that I fell backwards, hitting my head against the wall above my bed, and slumping down onto it.

 

Gyrfalcon stood glowering over me, and rubbing the knuckles on his right hand.

 

“What in the nine hells was that for?” I asked him, my voice soft and a trifle scared. He was filled with power in that instant… it radiated from him, and I believe it was one of the few instants in my life that I have been afraid. Then again… this story has many of those few instances.

 

“Grow up!” he growled, plunging onward, and not allowing me any further chance to speak. “You’ve been acting like a fool, and one who’s hell bent on making everyone around him suffer at that! You think you’re the only one upset here? You think you’re the only one who wishes they could do something for Yui? Well think again!

 

“We’re on your side, damn it! We come here out of courtesy to you, in order to try and help you recover, and to speak to you… to keep you company, for gods’ sakes! And how do you repay us? By being arrogant, self-centered, and downright asinine! You’ve no idea how many times Salinye has come to me distraught, nigh on tears because of your behavior! I told her that you were dealing with a tough thing, and it’s true, but so are all of us! You don’t have to take your feelings of… of self-doubt, or stir-craziness out on us, you know!”

 

I slumped on the bed before him. The fear that I had felt earlier had been replaced by a kind of guilt. I knew that what he was saying was true, and that I had no right to inflict upon them the grievances that I carried myself. My eyes slowly fell to the floor, and I avoided his gaze. Then he moved—he went and got a cloth from the healer’s counter, and he wiped the blood from my lip.

 

Slowly, he sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you… but you had better believe every word of what I said,” he said, rising, and he turned to go.

 

“Gyrfalcon?” I called, and he stopped just at the door.

 

I paused for a moment, searching for words. Eventually, when I found none, I simply said, “I’m sorry.” He nodded, and left.

 

I wept, then. For hours, and hours, I wept. When I stopped, and I had the coherent thought to look around me, the moon had risen and was well on its way into the sky. I guessed it to be about midnight, perhaps an hour past. Looking around, I straightened the blankets and pillow on my bed, and lay down to rest.

 

It was then that the thoughts of that dream came, and I decided that I would not, could not sleep this night. I sat up in bed, and pondered over it. I hadn’t had it when I was passed out… but then, I hadn’t been conscious. Last night had been the last time… but before that?

 

I thought hard… somehow it was difficult for me to remember, even though I had been impacted by it so much. It had been while I was in the flames, I knew that… but I couldn’t remember exactly which night.

 

My thoughts were interrupted suddenly, when I heard voices outside the infirmary. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought one of them was the chestnut-haired healer whom I had sent after Valdar when I had woken from that nightmare. I couldn’t make out every word, but I strained to hear… they seemed to be arguing about something.

 

“… and he asked to see you as soon as he woke up.” That was the healer.

 

“Yes, I had assumed he would do so,” replied a male voice…. It had to be Valdar. He continued, “Really, Moira, I must see Merelas.”

 

“Mr. en’Bella is no doubt asleep, and I really think it would be best if you left him to accumulate as much rest as possible,” she was getting angry, it seemed.

 

Then Valdar replied something to the effect of ‘I doubt he’s getting much sleep.’

 

“Which is exactly why you should leave him to his rest! This can wait until the morning.”

 

“I really don’t have time for this,” he said, as though he had washed his hands of the whole thing. The door opened then, and I looked up. It had been exactly who I’d thought: Valdar, and the healer, apparently called Moira. Valdar looked at me, and knowing that I hadn’t been asleep, glanced at Moira triumphantly.

 

“Valdar,” I said, standing and crossing over to him, “It’s good to see you.”

 

“And you. Moira, leave us please.”

 

“Valdar, sir, I must protest that—“

 

“It’s all right, Moira. The things we need to discuss best be kept private… you can leave us in peace,” I said. Moira frowned, glared at us both, and turned on her heel to leave.

 

“And if you would close the door behind you?” I called to her. I heard her sigh angrily, and slap the door behind her earth-shatteringly.

 

“I really don’t have much time,” Valdar said, and I nodded.

 

“Of course. Would you care to sit?”

 

“I’d rather stand,” he replied briskly.

 

“I see. Well, I feel that I must sit down,” I returned, and walked to the bed. I sat on it facing Valdar before continuing, “Lately, I’ve been having this—“

 

“Dream. Or rather, night mare, I suppose.” Valdar had cut me off.

 

I was shocked. How Valdar could know any of this was beyond me, so I simply nodded dumbly.

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

“Well, I’m running away from all of these…” I paused here to think of a word, but failed. “beings that are following me. Finally they’ve caught me, and I have to make my stand. So I fight, and then…” My throat tightened. It was frightening eve to speak the words. “I see my own death.”

 

“Where are you when this takes place?”

 

“I suspect the Void, only I’ve never been there. I don’t understand it,” I said, shaking my head.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, how can I have a dream about something I’ve never seen or encountered? And why would I be in the void?”

 

“Perhaps it’s a premonition,” Valdar said, although it was a trivial matter and he had dreams of the future all the time.

 

“So—so I’m going to be a planeswalker?” I asked incredulously.

 

Valdar shrugged. “I’ve no idea; it’s your dream, not mine. I had assumed something like this would happen to you, but I didn’t know to what extent,” he said.

 

I looked down. A planeswalker? How was it possible? I had no magic abilities that would help me there, and my fighting skills were (at best) only above average.

 

As though he could read my mind, Valdar spoke, “It is uncommon for a planeswalker to be a fighter, but not unheard of. I realize that you have no magical talent, but you seem to have an affinity for magical items. A few artifacts can bring you up to void standards There’s also your natural ability to control flames to be considered.” It was all very matter-of-fact… and that was perhaps as startling as the words themselves.

 

“I have an affinity for magical items?” I asked, puzzled.

 

“What do you call that thing around your neck? And that flaming sword? I suppose those are just trinkets?” he asked sarcastically.

 

“Oh… oh, yes,” I said dumbly. They had become a part of me to the extent that I didn’t even think of them as powerful artifacts anymore.

 

“Yes,” Valdar said somewhat impatiently. “If you really want to find out, I can only suggest that you make your way to Sigil,” he continued.

 

“Sigil? What is Sigil?”

 

Valdar looked upward for a moment, as though wondering what he had done to deserve my incompetence. It took much self discipline to control my temper in that moment.

 

“Sigil is a nexus. It is a connection to all planes, all realms of existence. It is a massive city, and there are several ways you can get to it.” He paused, and after a moment, added, “or rather, several ways I can get to it. There is probably only one route for you.”

 

“And that is…?” I questioned.

 

“A portal. They are very common, especially on this plane, but you must have an activator for said portal. In fact…” he trailed off at the end of his sentence. I quickly pressed the subject, and he continued, “In fact, I happen to have the activator for one such portal in my chambers. Please wait here,” he said, turning.

 

“Where do you think I’m going to go?” I asked sarcastically. He smiled at me over his shoulder, and nodded. He left the room, and I slumped back to rest on my pillows.

 

No sooner had I begun to wonder what was taking him so long than he walked back in, unaccompanied by Moira this time. He was hindered slightly by the fact that he was carrying a large axe.

Hmm.

 

Somewhat troubling.

 

But I suppose none of us will know what Judgement Day will really be like until we get there, will we?

 

Until then, I'm going to continue living my life as I have, and believing.

Happy Birthday Canid, and may you be informed and wise in your voting.

Happy Birthday! I hope it's a good one!

Merelas had been fighting, dealing out wounds from both flame and blade when the unthinkable happened.

 

Time stopped. Just as quickly, he stopped to listen to the incomprehensible beauty that was the song--he never knew something so beautiful and so full of light and holiness could come from such a mage. He watched, listened, basked... and then it was broken.

 

So, apparently, was the onslaught of undead that had come against the hostel in such ferocity.

 

And then another thing shook him from his reverie--his host, the one who had taken him in, was laughing. It was a nearly insane, maniacal laughter that drove him deep inside himself. How could she laugh? And what was she laughing at? Was she possessed?

 

He owed her much. Not noticing the looks from those around him, he swiftly sheathed Brillemire at his back and strode over to her... he knelt next to her, and still she did not see him. He looked at her, still unbelieving that she could find something so dismal to be comical. She shook with mirth, and her eyes were wildly gleaming. And though he had no magic, he could tell that there was something... wrong... about her.

 

Merelas placed a ginger hand on her shoulder... "Lady Salinye?" he asked tenderly, questioningly.

 

And he was quickly rebuked. She snarled at him, threw him back with a strength he would not have guessed she possessed. She punched him then, and he staggered backwards yet again. He felt his nose, partially in shock and partially to assess the damage she had done. His hand came away bloody--and she began to shriek.

 

"...WILL NOT...... TRUE........ PAIN.....!"

 

Merelas caught a few words. The tongue was a small bit like his own native language, but most of it was lost to him as gibberish. He was relieved when Daryl tackled her, and stopped the terrible shrieking and madness.

 

"What's going on??" the fire-elf asked, standing again, and wiping his nose on his sleeve. Concern crossed his face for the woman, tinted with a tiny bit of anger. If he believed her to be truly well, then he would have been furious... but it was obvious that she was either out of her mind, or heading there shortly. He looked around to the others, and waited for an explanation.

Alric was beginning to burn.

 

It was always the first sense that he had used too many spells in too quick succession. It didn't matter--life was more important than comfort at this point... at the very least to prove that he hadn't summoned the demon, if not to aid the party further. If they didn't want his help... so be it.

 

Alric saw another assassin begin advancing against him, and took action. He quickly threw his shoulders back, arms pointing outward, the left one holding the branch that he had pulled from the tree earlier.

 

The assassin stalled. He knew this man to be a mage, but he didn't know what he was conjuring up next, or if he had enough time to charge the man and cancel the spell... which he realized too late was a summons. Next to him, the tree raged to life, ripping its roots up from the ground and charging at the assassin. The treant had some shape of a face in the trunk now, and it swung its branches violently.

 

It tore the attacker to shreds.

 

Which, conveniently enough, caused Alric to feel a burning sensation all over his body, a pounding in his mind, and an ellevated sense of the pain in his thigh. He collapsed to his knees...

 

He didn't realize that the ward he had placed on Shanna dissintegrated without his notice. If he were capable of it, he would have screamed in pain... but the blackness was all that was necessary now--he embraced it.

Hugs

Hmm. Yes, I'm in, I suppose. See if I can't bungle things this time as well, eh?

Merelas scoffs

 

I'm going to do something very rare, which is to admit that my father was right in anything. In sports, when we'd lost a game or anything, I would always pick out my faults and tear myself up, mostly because I saw it as the most sensible thing to do. I couldn't change anyone else's mistakes, so I looked at mine and automatically felt that I had cost the team the loss.

 

He was incredibly adept and stating and restating that I was not the only one who had made mistakes, and that in the game of baseball, you can never pick out just one mistake that would have changed the course of the entire game. There was always more than one person who could have played better, and that to blame just one--either them or myself--is just plain unlogical.

 

We favor logic in my family. As you can see, I haven't quite taken to it as well as hoped

 

Ozy... I'm not even going to address the thing you said about stepping down as Loremaster... the people who've spoken here should have put away any and all doubts about your capacity to lead.

Quickly, Alric launched himself out of her path. The woman was deranged. He had never seen anything like it... docile and terrified one minute, then revelling in the pain of a victim in the next. Quickly he pulled himself out of her path, and dodged her fall.

 

"... Alric, what have you done to them?"

 

Alric looked at her with what he would call a mixture between fear, hatred, and disgust. Her actions nagged at a corner of his mind, telling him that he had seen such a thing before, but at the moment he was too worried that she would rip his head off.

 

He grounded and centered instantly like one who had practiced an action so much that it was second nature to him now. Then, he called up the most persuasive ward he knew. Shanna seemed to not be quite so dangerous now, so hopefully it would work. It was a form of an illusion, and although he had never been much good with visible ones, he could play on emotions like a bard played a lute.

 

Alric installed fear in her tiny mind, realizing that there was already some there. What she already had, however, wouldn't be enough. She had courage, and she could fight the fear. Alric knew how to deal with this... he gave her the fear that if she moved an inch in any direction, she would die on that move. Instantly, and painfully. She was too dangerous to be dealt with in any other way, and although he regretted paralyzing her, it was necessary.

 

Then he heard the shouts of Mara.

 

Fool of a woman, he thought to himself. No Verdant could ever summon a demon, because their agreement with the Lady Nature was to preserve the balance of what She created. Demons, summoned from a planewhere Nature had no presence to a plane where she ruled was unacceptable. She would not allow it.

 

Demon, indeed. As Alric waited for the Demon to actually do some harm, he realized what it must be. The illusionist had offered his best work for the fray in order to scare the enemy away.

 

He ignored her. If she thought that he had conjured a demon, then she would know that the only way to defeat it was if he banished it. She would not kill their only hope of removing the malevolent entity before said entity was defeated.

 

He saw Finnius and Silver fighting in the middle of the fray, and decided that they were their best hope of quickly defeating the original enemy, and not the one that had erupted within their young barmaid. Quickly, he gave them his aid in the best way he could manage, at the moment. Enchantment was one of his minor skills, but he could at least make it last the rest of the battle. The swords emitted light, and the ray of light that extended out past the tip acted as an extension to both of their blades, making them longer but with no added weight. At the same time, he affected their bodies, and gave them stoneskin. If either of them were in a state to notice, they would have felt their skin harden and become (imagine that) as stone.

 

And he hesitated. He looked behind him to the woman, who had moved not an inch. Her eyes were wide with fear, but he could sense the ward beginning (slowly, to be sure) to fade. He re-set it quickly, and looked to see what else he could do.

If I post any more than just saying this, I'll get out of hand.

 

I don't like it.

Alric was tired. He had not only been woke from a deep sleep and the first actually pleasant dream he'd had in a while, but he now had several wounds which were weighing him down.

 

And now there were multiple versions of him running around and whacking at things with the tree limb... as if he'd be so primitive. The illusion distracted him from fighting his fully real enemy, although the numbers of said enemy were decreasing quickly.

 

Alric decided that a bit of rest and respelling would be best, so he withdrew from the fray for a few minutes. First he performed his ground and center again, making sure that it would hold firm and calm him enough to work his magic. Having done that, he set to the more painful of tasks. Grasping at the arrow that was burried about an inch deep in his thigh, which hurt him to move, he hesitated. Taking the tree branch which he'd plucked earlier, he cleaned the bark and obtrusive objects off of an area about in the middle of the branch, and placed it in his mouth... he didn't want his screams to give him away.

 

He clutched the arrow then, and his teeth clenched as he felt pain from even the mere grasp of the thing. He locked his jaw into wood, and jerked.

 

And even though he had braced himself, he still wasn't ready for the pain he felt in his leg. He collapsed suddenly, and the wood fell from his mouth. Unready for what he had thought would've been relatively minor, he screamed again.

 

He had a feeling he was now given away.

Alic woke to the screech that he recognized as the Roc’s. He stumbled up in annoyance, and was about to yell, “Mara, keep that damned bird silent!” when an arrow whizzed by his left ear. Silently, he thanked the Roc instead of condemning him, and struggled to his feet.

 

Only to be knocked down again. He had stood straight up into a tree in the darkness, and being the more movable of the two, it had been Alric who accommodated the tree.

 

Alric growled a curse before climbing out from the tree a ways, and then spreading his hands and muttering a few words. In between his hands (palms facing eachother) was a globe of light which he threw up into the air. Snapping his fingers once it got to an acceptable height, the globe exploded, and particles spread throughout the area, shedding some light on their situation.

 

Quickly, Alric assessed said situation. He looked around, and saw around 10 men with bows dressed in black. This was not good. He could see a few members of their party spread out around the area, but didn’t know what they were doing—some fighting, and some, he noticed, cowering.

 

It’s best to have one left over when it’s done with to question, he thought to himself, and so he acted the best he could.

 

Sighting the nearest of the attackers, he faced him, stomped his foot, and with that motion, performed what he called a “ground and center.” This was the act of throwing a line down into the earth, and drawing power from nature itself, which flowed directly out of the ground and into his body. There were limits as to how much power one could use in a consecutive amount of time, but other than his own personal limits, he had mana aplenty. That was the grounding effect, but centering was his own mental preparation to cast magic.

 

As he centered, he closed his eyes for a moment, and cleared his mind of everything except one goal—

 

Defend and protect the party, he thought, and opened his eyes again. Quickly, he brought up both hands to his chest, and formed a triangle with his two thumbs and index fingers. Slowly, he pushed the symbol outward towards the man he had been concentrating on. In the white, shimmering light, he saw the vines move. Erupting out of the ground at the man’s feet, and tossing clods of dirt as they did so, twin vines wrapped around the man’s legs, and his waist, and finally up to his neck. The man was effectively paralyzed.

 

Now Alric manipulated the vines, and they tipped the man backwards until he lay on the ground, covered in convoluted, winding threads of greenery. This all happened in a matter of seconds, and Alric turned away. He looked again for another man, not intending to spare this one his life.

 

Watching one of their assassins knock an arrow and aim for the one called Shanna, Alric panicked. Quickly, he attempted to stop the shot in the best way he knew how.

 

“Norre tremble ie do mir!” he shouted, and at the last he stomped the ground again, gesturing towards the arrow as he did so with both hands. Instantly, he felt heavier, and a sense of the additional gravity that he had created, and the arrow strayed enough to skid along the ground. Alric could barely lift his arm enough to make the cutting gesture which cancelled the spell. Instantly after he did this, he felt himself lighten, and he moved with far more speed now.

 

Near him, an assassin was charging, bow over one shoulder and a small dagger in the other. Alric sidestepped, and the man went sprawling by him, onto the ground in a heap. Realizing that the man would be back on his feet shortly, Alric ran to a nearby tree and clutched a sizable branch.

 

Lend me a limb, friend!

 

Alric jerked, and the limb came free. He staggered backwards, but didn’t fall. He examined the branch with as much time as he was able—it was straight, with a few knots in it, but it would do nicely. As the attacker charged him again, Alric waited. He tensed, and held the branch with both hands. Timing the exact second when he would need it, he acted. Thrusting the branch outwards, he felt the limb connect with the black-clad man’s jaw, and send him reeling.

 

Alric turned, and saw the other members of the parting fighting for their lives just as he was… and it was then, in that moment, that he realized that an arrow was sticking out of his thigh.

Merelas is quickly surrounded, and so he quickly surrenders...

 

"All right, all right! I'll pay the fee! But... I didn't bring any spares, so... just don't look, ok!"

 

He starts to take off his pants, and watches when all of the trolls look away...

 

Quickly, he calls a flame, merges with it, and dissapears, out of the grasp of the trolls.

 

"Idiots," he says to himself, with a smile.

Oh Ayshela. You're one of my favorites .

 

Funny Story.

Hmm... what is this "Otakon" you speak of?

I enjoy this type of writing.

 

And I must say that you do it quite well. I also like the overall feel of the piece and the message that you're trying to convey. It's time that America got a little more trusting and a little more conservative again.

 

Thank you for applying.