Akallabeth

Ciroth remained at the ready. He was not about to be taken in by courtesy to his face by a man who had spread lies behind his back. But neither would he act in haste. It would be a poor idea to silence a liar. Far too often they were then believed due to the fact that they were dead. Hearing Sabastian’s statements, he immediately knew what his reply was, though a simple, “No,” would not be adequate for the situation. “Thank you, but I must decline. I’ve found that alcohol has adverse effects on me, and I am most comfortable standing in this form.” Besides saying what was true of him, he was not about to put himself into a poor defensive position. And accepting drinks from a person of unknown loyalties? Children of House Hendrake were taught to be wary at a young age, and that was one of the first lessons to be taught. For it would be shameful to lose a member to one person with a skill in potions. He did his best to be pleasant with his statement, but he could not keep the low rumble in his demon form’s voice from sounding like a growl backing up what he said. “Please, explain your comments about me. I ask only that you speak with truth and honor, as this Son of Hendrake does.”

Really liked this last one... Just finished with learning of Beethoven & his life in Music Appreciation today. It's odd seeing much of what I learned in class transferred to an interesting poetic form. As well as offering some wonderful CDs at a reduced price.

Congratulations!

Thunder rumbled in Ciroth's mind, matching the sound of his footsteps as he strode down the ways of Chaos, heading for the main hall of House Sawall. Other Chaosians stepped out of the way of his demonic form, leaving a clear path for him as he went. How could that arrogant creature Sabastian even claim that he, Ciroth, or any Hendrake would hold a complaint with any member of house Sawall? He let out a low laugh. There was that one member he was about to see, however... The two houses had good relations, and Hendrake had always supported Sawall. Did not the ruling house need fighters? The position of Lord General normally went to a Hendrake. House Hendrake wished to have no more than that. What proof did that cursed Sabastian even think he had besides the lies he had formulated? Ciroth knew he had truth and honor on his side, but he suspected that the lust for power coursing through Sabastian's blood would provide sugared lies to counter whatever Ciroth said. And though Ciroth was not gifted enough to see what was hidden in Sabastian's heart, he knew that there he could only count on himself being innocent. Ciroth entered the House Sawall, and immediately picked out that honorless insect, Sabastian, from among the other members of Sawall. As a courtesy to the true members of house Sawall, he left Atana sheathed, but approached Sabastian cautiously. After all, if a Chaosian had destroyed one of their own blood, would they stop at anything? (EDIT:repairing poor wording in last line and a few misspellings...)

*adds another link to info on the Houses of Chaos* I found this one fairly informative, and it has some neat pictures of House crests. Also, it provides a whole list of assorted minor houses, if anyone'd be interested in looking at them.

Ciroth had heard rumors of words that had been spoken after he left. Evidently Sabastian was attempting to tell Sol of Sepharis that he, Ciroth of Hendrake, was pursuing the position of regent without any honor whatsoever. That he had assisted in removing the Minobee sisters... that he had been behind the murder of Jerin of Sewall... Criticisms of his character Ciroth could tolerate, but completely false and baseless accusations against his honor and that of his house was more than what he could tolerate. Steaming at the ears, he immediately set to penning a message to Sol. ------------------------------------------------------ To Sol of House Sepharis from Ciroth of House Hendrake: Greetings from a House founded on Honor and a lack of deceit. It has come to my attention that you have recently been told blatant lies by one Sabastian, who is not worthy to belong to any house for the falsehoods he purports as truth. I have never wished anyone either in your House or in the House Minobee any harm, whether openly or secretly, and have never plotted assassination against you or any Minobee. You know the traditions of my house, and have heard of my personal traditions: honor and truth above all. Lies do not become men of this stature, and any who propose such lies may meet swift justice at the end of my sword. Judge me by my fruits, not falsehoods from others. May your house prosper, and your enemies find swift justice. Ciroth of Hendrake ----------------------------------------------------------------- Upon finishing the message, Ciroth handed it to a messenger of his house, and bade him to rush it to Sol as quickly as possible. Ciroth then gave a silent prayer for a sure sword, took up Atana, shifted his shape, and went to find the one responsible for painting an innocent man with falsehoods. (EDIT: more misspellings...)

Ciroth had not reached Sol when the light talking in the room was interrupted by the entry of a monstrous demon. His eyes widened slightly at the figure's approach. He had drawn Atana and shifted his form as the creature came closer, and was nearly ready to charge the demon when it became apparant that the creature had come for Duke. Ciroth saw it raise its arm for a killing stroke, and rushed forwards too late to even slow the creature. It vanished, and Ciroth was left in the same stance as several of the others: standing around Duke's fallen body, prepared for attack, but with nothing to attack. Needless to say, he felt foolish, angered, and slightly disturbed. 'A fire angel... this hunter demon... what next?,' he thought in annoyance, 'The serpant?' Immediately he repented of this chain of thought. It would do him no good. One of the hopefuls, the lady Samantha, spoke out at that time, voicing her opinion that someone wasn't playing by the rules. Ciroth mentally snorted. That was to be sure. Playing by the rules would have meant that the Jerin of Sawall would be regent, and that the missing and dead persons would be alive and well. Probably. Seeing no more reason to remain at the meeting, Ciroth headed for the doors.

Ciroth arrived at the meeting shortly after it started. Most of the hopefuls for the regency were there: Samantha, Sebastion, Sol... but where were the Minobee twins? Sol was on his own as he talked to Sebastian, without his fiancee anywhere to be seen. Ciroth walked over to Sol, assuming that he knew where the sisters were. And wondered what Duke had planned on saying...

This'll actually work out better (for me at least) since it got too late and I never managed to think up a post for Ciroth. I am will begin writing a post shortly after this message, and should *hopefully* have it finished before the hour.

Ciroth recieved the messenger from Duke of House Munich, and bade him to return with assurances that the message would be responded to. He then walked to a room in the House Hendrake, and seated himself to think over this offer. What Duke said did make sense. No one would benefit in the current way that the regency was being pursued, and likely as not, all or most of the most promising Chaosites would end up dead. It was a way to possibly come to a peaceful resolution. On the other hand, it was also quite dangerous. Gathering all of those most ardently pursuing the regency into a close space... it seemed like quite an easy way to spring a trap to destroy all competition. Yet... Ciroth called his messengers, and ordered that they bring him some emerald green robes of the finest sort, well suited for fighting, and also Atana. He would go to the meeting, though he would also be ready. Having dressed, he departed for the location of the meeting to see what was to be said there.

Ciroth walked around the dummy in the center of the practice ring. The dummy posessed by a demon that had been brought from the edge of the Abyss specifically for swordtraining. He stepped back, drawing his sword Atana from its sheath at his side. The dummy followed suit, taking a gladius in each hand. Ciroth took a step forward, his sword raised in a defensive position as he approached the moving dummy. It took the swords in its hands, and moved towards him at great speed, swinging and being blocked as the three swords clashed together... Later, Ciroth kicked the dummy's pieces to the side of the room, and sheathed Atana, his two handed sword, once more. The demon materialized once more, and bowed to him before departing. The demon... Ciroth's mind returned once more to the fire angel, and gave a slight frown. Certainly Cid had been taken upon unawares by that hellish beast, and he had done well against it. For a short while. Ciroth knew he could have stood better against the beast, but there was little a mortal could manage against those creatures without great abilities with shadow. He shifted his form. And back. And returned to the demonic semblence he sometimes wore. Certainly, this was a useful enough power of shadows, but it was no more than a basic power. Perhaps it would be best if he found a another who would be able to assist in that area -- in exchange for some martial and commanding ability. Turning these thoughts over in his head, he summoned the demon back into the room, and destroyed the dummy in a few minutes. Perhaps he'd have to find another, more difficult one...

Will we know if a special has been assassinated?

Keeping his face emotionless, Ciroth replied to Cid, "No, I have not." Cid did not only wear a physical mask, he thought. He seemed to hide his thoughts and his agendas behind his caricature of a pirate. Who knew what was going on inside that mind besides Cid? Ciroth didn't believe that Cid would be one to share his private mind with others, even in his house. However, Ciroth knew that Cid looked at the death of the former Regent designate with as much greed and anticipation as any other in the room. Thus he ought to be watched. He glanced slightly to the side, and skimmed over Johann. He seemed to be an honest enough man. Making it all the more likely that something might be hidden behind that guise of fair words, and unstated promises. Johann knew there were none that he could trust , though perhaps some would be worthy of being allies. If he kept his eyes on them. Obviously, the best people to have as allies would be leaders. Commanders. Those who truly knew how to direct others. He knew that he was an excellent warrior and commander among the Chaosians. After all, had his house not always been recognized for it's talent in war? Honor...loyalty...martial prowess. No other house could stand with Hendrake in this field. But who else was there to look to? The General immidiately appeared in Ciroth's mind, nearly causing him to give a thin smile. He was a leader of troops, certainly. However, as implied by his name, he was a general. He needed another to give him his orders. Though he did seem to be growing bolder as time went on... Ciroth lifted his glass of fine red wine to his lips, and took a sip while looking at Sol of Sepharis. There was another commander, a fine one who also valued honor, or gave lip service to it, at least. However, Ciroth had a feeling that Sol would be true, wether he would be a leader... or an ally. He glanced away slowly, moving on to another group as it became that one of the twins of Minobee had noted his interest in Sol. Probably the one that was Sol's fiance, though Ciroth couldn't tell for certain at that distance. Other than those two... Ciroth let his eyes wander throughout the crowd, still slowly sipping the glass of wine There were no other military leaders among the others, not that he recognized. All the others seemed to be of other backgrounds. Mages, sorcerors, and various others adept and dangerous in their own ways, but none that he saw as being familiar with command of others. He knew who he would need to go to... one way or another. Ciroth turned back to Cid and Johann, having finished his short lapse into thought. "I'm quite sorry, just drifted away from what you were saying," he said with a slight smile and bow of his head. "Now, where were we?"

A large dog trotted down the corridors of the Pen. Akallabeth had been moving down these corridors for a while, as he attempted to find a person he knew was somewhere in the castle. Another half hour passed, and time seemed to be catching up with him, so he sped up his pace, sniffing, looking, and listening for any sign of Tanny in the castle's extensive passages. 'I should've been running from the beginning. There're too many passages to search them all at a walk,' he thought, and he sped up some more, dodging the occasional person going down the hallways. Coming around a corner, he saw a young man merely a couple feet ahead of him. He crashed into the unfortunate man, knocking him off his feet. Azuran landed hard on his bottom, legs sticking out to either side in front of him and hands planted firmly on the ground behind his back. Rather dazed, he blinked several times but the large furry head remained directly in front of his face, panting slightly and with an inquisitive look in its eyes. ::I'm quite sorry about that,:: Azuran heard in his head, ::I seem to have gotten into too much of a rush. I've been looking for Tanny rather unsuccessfully for some time now.:: Azuran looked around himself, trying to figure out where the voice came from. ::Yes, it's me speaking. The St. Bernard right in front of you. Would you happen to know where Tanuchan is? I've been trying to find her to wish her a happy birthday.:: "Ahh, it's her birthday, is it?! Well I've got a good idea where we might find her... In fact, I think I'll just go with you." Azuran stood up again, and began walking towards the conservatory with Akallabeth at his heels. They ran into Tanny in the conservatory, where she was looking over the records of some past werewolf games. She looked up when she realized that they had come to see her. Azuran was a known face to her, but the dog?.. ::Hello, I know you haven't seen me yet, but I believe that you don't need to know my appearance to know me.:: Akallabeth smiling a big goofy dog grin up at her. ::I managed to arrive just in time for your birthday.:: He jumped up, managing to balance himself on his hind paws for a short bit of time, just long enough to give Tanny a big, wet doggy kiss before his front paws fell to the floor again. ::Tanny, have a happy birthday this year, and many more as the years go by!:: Having said this, Akallabeth backed up and seated himself a short distance away, wagging his tail and grinning happily. (Thanks to Azuran in cowriting/planning much of this post) (edit: spelling, grammer, flow, etc.)

What I learned in school for basic punctuation for spoken sentances is as follows: "It's raining," he said. "It's raining!" he said. "It's raining," he said, "raining hard." "Is it raining?" she asked. When the spoken sentance is a statement (no question mark or exclaimation mark) a comma is used before the quotation mark followed by 'he said' or 'she asked', which in turn is followed by a period. If the spoken sentance is intended to have a question mark or exclaimation mark, they merely replace the comma. Lowercase is used when the next word is inspecific. examples: he, she, it, they Uppercase is used when the next word is specific, or when the part following the spoken sentance is a complete sentance. examples: "It's raining," Bob said. "It's raining." He stopped talking and listened to the drops falling. You have the question mark/exclaimation mark use correct according to what I was taught. I don't know about hyphens. I don't use them for this purpose, but I know that what I have said above is for the very conservative writing of spoken sentances. I am sure that most writers are looser with the rules, especially in poetry/prose. I hope that this answers most of your questions accurately.

Have a Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday Gryphon !

Ciroth of Hendrake In the tradition of his house, he is a warrior, though he is slightly unique in his mastery in the use of the two handed sword. He isn't of a high rank in his house, but neither is he of a low one. However, he has sought to change this with another tradition that he intends to begin. That of ambition. He aspires to gain the prestige of being a successor to the throne while keeping the traditions of his house. For there would be little wisdom in gaining one support while losing another. To succeed, he has only his intelligence, his reputation, and his skills to draw upon. He is not extremely accomplished in magic, his primary achievement being that of shifting between his two normal shapes. He also realizes that he is no shadowmaster, though he is not incompetent when it comes to weaving a web of shades. Perhaps his ambitions shall triumph... Physical Descriptions: ________________________________________ "Human" form: Age: 32 years Height: 6.5 feet (1.98 meters) Weight: 215 pounds (97.5 kilograms) Build: Medium, though having dwelt near the Abyss makes him seem lighter than he is. Most of his weight is in solid muscle, kept up by constant training. Hair: Black, one or two inches (two and a half or five centimeters) long Eyes: Grey/green Skin: Med. Dark Other details: Emotions are kept inside, except for flickers in his eyes. He is merely average in looks. _________________________________________ "Shift" form: Species: Unknown type of demon Height: about 5 feet (1.52 meters) Weight: about 210 pounds (95.3 kilograms) Build: Heavy Hair: None Eyes: (2) Diamond shaped, grey/yellow Skin: Large, mottled brown and black semi-overlapping plates covering a very dark skin of indeterminate color. Other details: Horrible to look on, it is used by Ciroth for fighting, training, and any situation requiring a non-human form. It walks on two feet, and has two arms, and the layout of its body is similar to that of a human. However, its limbs are shorter and much heavier; and it has no neck to speak of, just a point above its shoulders that slopes into a barely movable head, which reveals little more than the eyes buried deeply beneath their lids, and a gap through which the creature may speak.

Another bit on V for Vendetta I'd looked forward to seeing this movie, and though I was disappointed in some spots, I liked it overall. The acting seemed to be good, the setting and characters both seemed to be well thought out and well designed, and the action in the movie was excellent, though (as Zadown said) it is far less of an action movie than The Matrix. One thing that I noticed in reading background on the movie in Wikipedia was that the author of the graphic novel the movie was based on (Alan Moore) didn't approve of the movie. As quoted from Wikipedia: I have to agree with some of what he said on this, as it does seem to be a somewhat "anti-conservative" film, both in some of its subjects, and some of what is said about the current state of the world. If you are tolerant of that, I'd recommend it as an interesting film.

I guess it's really up to you, though I'd check for a consensus of those in the storeroom as to what happens. As I suspect that what happens to one will happen to all or most of those in the room.

Loved this game, and I enjoyed being Johann. I'm actually rather happy with the ending, and hope that Johann's end is satisfactory. This is probably the most I've enjoyed a WW game, I guess due to the setting, RP, and relations between the characters. See y'all in WW XXIII

A couple of hours later, night had completely fallen, and Johann was still going, traveling down a valley along a large stream. His thin jacket didn't provide much protection against the cool northern air, but he did not notice. The void in his mind easily swallowed up the gathering numbness of his senses. 'Why...why...why...' The question echoed through his mind long after his lips were too tired and too numb to say the word anymore. He ought to have known there was no hope, no point to the killing. He had only succeeded in destroying the one thing in the world he loved. Perhaps he could gain some consolation by destroying the thing that he most hated, the thing that had killed his love. Himself. Turning with a numbed cry, he threw himself headlong into the icy waters of the rushing stream. Within seconds, he knew that he was going to succeed in the last killing of his life. The dark, freezing waters pulled him down, tugging on the weight of his clothing, his skis. He did not resist, and allowed the chilling fingers of death to pull him under. Blackness was all around. Johann knew he was dead, yet he thought it odd that his senses seemed to have stayed. The darkness about him seemed visible, not the black of closed eyes. There were shrill, loud sounds echoing in his ears. The stench of sulfur filled his nostrils, and a burning, horrific heat, came with it - as if he had inhaled flames. Awareness increased, and as his senses were fully restored, a last fleeting thought appeared in his mind. Perhaps life hadn't been so bad. Even as he thought this, his skin began to change colors and harden from the intense heat. Irregular dark blotches covered his body. Boils erupted and burst from his flesh, and his body took on the semlance of burning charcoal as the flames surrounded him. And the eternal chorus of burning souls recieved another voice. (edit: heavily changed last part)

*Blows a fanfare on a kazoo* Here's a little concoction that was inspired by events earlier today. Note: Wheat is a grass, so when it is young, it is green. ----------------------------------- Blowing green wheat waves A running dog follows paths Searching for rabbits

Character to come.

Johann stepped out of his room shortly after dawn, dressed and ready to go to the mountain. He walked quietly down the hall, doing his best to allow the others to sleep. He needed time to think. As he stepped outside with a granola bar in hand, he looked over the beautiful landscape below the mountain. The evergreens with blotches of snow on them, and snow surrounding them, stood about the mountain and on it like an army standing on a prairie, looking down at the small creatures who moved about them on the white ground. It was an impressive sight. Snapping his boots into his bindings, he decided to take a slower path, and went down it at a good speed, taking the turns with ease. It was a good trail to think on, as it didn't require much more than instinct to follow it down. He'd tried to talk to Anne the day before, but after his mistake in suspecting Charles, she didn't seem to want to be near him. Had she actually decided that she wished to be away from him, that his words had driven her from him? Would she talk to him today? He sighed in frustration as he came to the bottom of the slope, and started up a chairlift to take him to the top. Humorlessly glancing at the chairs, he got onto one, and began his ride to the top. On the way up, he glanced over the landscape, looking for another easy trail to try. Suddenly, his eyes sharpened. There was a red object fluttering in the light breeze near a steep trail that was off to the right of the lift. Straining his eyes, Johann thought that it looked like a scarf. A red scarf... A feeling of dread and fear filled him. It couldn't be... He restrained himself from jumping out of the lift, and managed to stay patient to the top. Upon reaching the top, he sped over to the right, and to the trail that he thought the red scarf was on. It was a double black diamond. He took off as quickly as he could manage, and sped down the twisting and turning trail at breakneck speeds, only slowing when the thought he was near the red scarf. He saw it as he went around the next turn. It was thrown up in a tree, near the edge of a sharp dropoff. Looking over the torn orange netting that had protected unwary skiiers from the sheer slope, Johann saw some snow covered boulders at the bottom. And nothing else. Within a second, Johann had thrown his skis at a nearby drift, leaving them poking out at crazy angles. In his awkward ski boots, he sprinted up the slope, and into the lodge. He knew that the clopping of his boots would wake the others, but he didn't care. Sprinting to the end of the hall and Anne's door, he tried to stop, but slipped on the hard flooring in the hallway. He smashed into the end wall, leaving some dents in the drywall, and picked himself up. With both hands he began to pound on the door. "ANNE! ARE YOU THERE? ANNELISE! ANNELISE BERGER!" The last two words were accomponied by the sounds of splintering, as Johann kicked the door in. As he finished knocking a hole big enough for him to get in through, Dana and Evelyn arrived, and saw him go inside. Dana took out a master key and unlocked the shattered door, which fell as she tried to swing it open. Stepping over its remains, they saw Johann rush from place to place in the suite, overturning the couch, checking the closets, flinging anything open or out of the way that might be hiding Anne. By the time he ran out of places to look, he was weeping freely, and finally collapsed against a wall in the devestated room. All that Dana and Evelyn could get out of him were some disjointed words."Anne. Gone. Scarf. Tree. Cliff. Anne." The two ladies quickly donned some outdoor clothes, and their equipment. Following Johann, who seemed to have collected himself well enough to guide them, they went down the path. They saw the skis, which Dana immediately recognized as ones that she had loaned to Johann earlier due to the odd lime green markings on their ends. They saw the scarf, the soft red scarf fluttering in the breeze, the torn fencing. And Johann, lying on the ground, whispering: "Why? Why did you do it? And where have you been hiding?" he said, his voice gradually rising in volume and determination,"Where have you been? We've been dying here, and where are you at?" "I'll find you Stefan. Just wait." (OOC: accusing the "Hidden Lady" Elwen/Stefan)