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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Rage


Zadown

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A loud, resounding boom echoed through the Pen Keep, originating somewhere from the general direction of the cabaret room. The sound reverberated through the oft-abused stone of the huge, rambling building, shaking dust and dirt loose from hidden places and sending small armies of rats and bats scurrying from one deep, dark place to another. It was easily felt more than heard – a tangible wave of air, a tremor creeping through the floors.

 

In the ground zero of the blast that had cause that sound was the prone body of Zadown of Old, coughing blood on his rich green robes the color of summer forests, trying to push himself upright with a sheathed metallium katana. Standing opposite of him to complete the tableau was the Dreamer. He was clad in dirty grey robes and there was no crown on his head, no Pain ready to be unsheathed at his back, only his boots of dragon leather showing from underneath the robes that were girded with a simple hemp rope. From behind the planewalker, perhaps, it might have seen like a quarrel between two brothers, so alike were their body structure. But the eyes did not match: the Dreamer had two bottomless pits dug into his ravaged face, his scars writhing around the two black pools that both held a red star in their grasp. Zadown glared back with his ordinary and very human green eyes and spat still more blood to the ground.

 

The planewalker raised both of his hands in a gesture of spellcasting, underlining the power he was about to unleash with the fact even he needed to go through the proper rituals for the spell. Nevertheless, Zadown's bloody smile radiated dauntless defiance. Despite his injuries his hands still moved quickly. Leaning on the section of the wall that had cracked from the impact of him landing against it, he dipped his fingers in his own blood and draw a glyph of warding with that potent paint in the air between him and the crackling sphere of energy appearing above the Dreamer's head. A ward flashed in the empty space before fading from normal sight, and the samurai leaned back, clearly exhausted by the spell. The Dreamer grimaced before roaring aloud words that shaped the primal energy he was weaving out of raw mana, perfecting his spell with unhurried cold rage. The spell hummed with a dangerous sound that permeated the whole nearby ambient mana flow, tugging and whispering and screaming into the ears of all mages of the Pen.

 

Then it sprang forth as a lashing, two-pronged tongue of living lightning, too bright to look at, too loud to hear.

 

It hit the barrier of Blood Magic and punched through but did not reach the broken samurai, writhing a moment in the middle of air like a harpoon that had punctured the armor but hadn't been able to reach the flesh underneath. The thunderbolt winked out of existence.

 

In the now dark and silent room smelling of ozone and charred flesh, the planewalker fell to his knees, huge dark stains growing on both the back and front of his robe.

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The thought is a trigger, and in a blink the table between us is gone and his hand is on mine, soft and cool against my skin. The eyes that hold me are closer, big enough to lose myself in for all eternity, yet far too distant for the longing that fills me. His breath is soft against my cheek as he speaks. I can barely drag myself away from the sensation long enough to comprehend his words. He wants something from me. He needs it, a gift that I can give him in exchange for a gift that he can give me. I don't --

 

The book hit the ground with a thunderous crack, fallen from a pair of fine-boned hands gone slack with shock. Not far above, the eyes that had absorbed those words with rapturous attention only seconds before were blank and distant, the reader's attention fixed on a shriek that could not be heard, an inferno that could not be seen. The mana lines were shredding with the force of the power being sucked along them, and the center to which it was all gathering was in their very own Cabaret Room. The danger that represented drew her to her feet in an instant, and before she even had time to make it a coherent thought, she was stepping through the darkness between places to emerge into a cratered and ruined room.

 

Temae Yui gasped at the destruction, her wary gaze noting the two fallen men, the wafting dust and debris, the blood that spattered more surfaces than could be healthy. The air tasted like burnt power and shattered spells, a metallic tang always present where magic was used, but so powerful in that place that she grimaced with the bitterness of it. That was the Dreamer's legacy, a magecraft too far beyond mortal to belong to the bleeding samurai who lay collapsed across from him.

 

"Dreamer," she called out to the stranger she knew best - if such could be said of either - stepping across the rubble to kneel before him, her hands outstretched but not quite touching his hunched shoulders. "What in the name of Terra Lost is going on here?"

 

While she regarded his bowed head with worried eyes, Yui heard booted feet on marble halls. Other Pennites were coming to investigate, and she feared that each step brought them closer to mortal danger.

 

((If that's the Dreamer + 30, then would his timeline include Yui's help with the little princess in Dreamer + 15? Just curious... :) ))

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The Dreamer raised his head, blinked once and gave Yui Temae a dazed look, his eyes a nondescript, lustreless shade of brown. She was close enough to see the distinct glimmer of wards still shimmering around the planewalker, telling her that her decision to not to touch the wounded immortal had been quite correct.

 

"Eve'in', m'lady. Fo'ive me 'f I shan't bow, ya?"

 

He stood up, swaying, the already strong odor of blood growing still stronger, the stains in his robe racing across the fabric with hungry swiftness. In a voice eerily similiar, if lacking the thick accent, the broken samurai snarled after he had coughed once more:

 

"Never thought ye'd been stupid enough to try to break through a Blood Ward made by yer own shard, Dreamer."

 

Around the critically wounded planewalker his wards started to manifest as sparkling, translucent strands, their magic fizzling and crackling, hissing and moaning as he could not keep them in control. The stain reached the hem of his robe and the rivulets of gore started to create a small pool around his feet. Ignoring the lightshow and the unmistakable sound of boots on stone now very close, the samurai turned to regard Yui Temae with narrow eyes.

 

"If I were ya, Lady, I'd leave this to the two of us."

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"Uncle Dreamer!"

 

Little Valdar did not have enough mass to produce deep footfalls on the white marble, even with heavy boots - but the pitterpatter of small feet echoed unimpressivley through the halls of the Pen.

 

"Uncle Dreamer!"

 

He ran past the caberet room, screeeeeeeeeched to a halt and doubled back to where auntie Yui partially obscured the unmistakeable shape of uncle Dreamer. Both ears stuck straight up in panic for a moment, and he rushed in to hug the battered uncle.

 

The dazed Dreamer and Yui Temae looked in alarm at the little shape cannoning down on them, and managed to say in unison "Valdar, dont-". Too fast to catch, the small elf dodged past auntie Yui to deliver a BIG HUG to the Dreamer.

 

There was another impressive "BOOOOOM" as their wards clashed. Little Valdar flew backwards and ricocheted off the doorframe with a loud "DINK!". Yui Temae winced as he further bounced off the far wall, narrowly missing her in the process. Zadown ducked in suprise, as the elf shot through the empty space he had occupied a moment ago with a distorted "wheeeeeeeeee!".

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Soft whispers of leather on tile chased down the hall behind Valdar; their echoes drowned out by strong elf screams. Where did that rascal get to? Little bugger stole my...

 

The new figure broke his thoughts upon arriving at a makeshift entrance. Peering in and gathering his thoughts, Vlad noticed four figures. Two he knew, and two he had heard of only through rumor. Fragmented power emminated from the room, and the vampire delicately stepped back, knowing his was out of his league.

 

The room was tense, the air hung dryly, making it almost difficult for the newcomer to move. He sensed hostility nearing a peak, or perhaps receding, but knew for certain that a ricocheting Valdar did not bode well in either case.

 

Focusing in on the samurai to his left Vlad guessed that this was the safer pick, should he be forced to choose sides. A hunched Yui across the room did little to confirm his intuition, but only time would tell. Vlad took a step foreward, but quickly retreated, deciding he had no desire to die just yet.

 

Noticing no open warfare taking place yet, the vampire once again changed his mind and crept into the room, fearing the worst. Muttering to himself, he settled on the least risky path of action. Resolving several calculations mentally, he headed to Valdar's next landing spot, stopping just before he realized he would pass directly between the pair that he had never seen before.

Edited by Vlad
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Dana had been wandering around this wonderful new world, and although she had been grumpy at first she had decided that it could have been worse. Sure, the first person she had met had hit her on the head, and insisted that she was someone else. The second tried to sneak up on her with an iron bar, and the third had tried to steel her mirror. But all in all, it wasn’t too bad. She took her mirror from her pocket and studied her face; a face with deep blue eyes and full lips was staring back at her. Most people would call her pretty, if it hadn’t been for the scar that showed blood red under her chin. With a finger she followed the thin white line, she remembered the bastard that had given it to her, and that had killed her teacher. One day she would find him and make him pay for what he had done to her. She flicked back her dark hair and put away the mirror, finding him would have to wait; she would first have to get back home.

 

She walked past the Cabaret Room and sensed that someone in there was gathering enough mana too blow up the whole place. Curious who it was that had such strengths she decided to take a look and see what was happening. She carefully opened the door and was confronted with a sight that looked far from happy. A pointy-eared elf was flying around at high speed, two people were injured badly, and the other two had worried looks on their faces. She recognised only one of them from her brief introduction last night, and decided that the first thing she should do was take some speed away from the ricocheting elf before he would hit Vlad. She stuck out her hand and send out a wave of magic that slowed the elf down a bit before he slammed into the vampire, and both flew against the wall.

 

Dana overlooked the situation and saw that a lady was already tending for one of the hurt people, and decided that she would try to do what she could for the other. She hurried over to the man and while kneeling down before him she laid a hand on his shoulder. She felt that he too controlled magic, but also sensed that he was injured badly. His green robes were covered in blood and she could feel that the energy surrounding his body was weak.

 

“Tell me what I can do for you?” She asked with her velvet voice. The man tried to speak, but Dana saw that it was taking him energy that he could use better at this moment. She focused and let some of her own energy flow into him.

Edited by Sweetcherrie
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A burst of new energy flowed into Zadown, paying back the debt of pain he had incurred from ducking Valdar and then some. Without pausing to feel the agony his battered body hurled at his mind, the samurai pushed himself upright with his sheathed katana, a focused look on his youthful face. He brushed aside the strange woman and her startled exclamation, straightened himself as well as he could and draw his blade, tossing the black, featureless sheath aside. The sound of the blade leaving the scabbard was barely audible through the background noise, yet it still held a note of menance to it. Zadown stared right past everything that was happening in the room at the planewalker, cold sweat on his now bone-white brow.

 

The Dreamer was smoking gently from the backlash of the discharged and short-circuited wards, narrow strips of new burns on his scarred face. There was barely any light left in his eyes, the brown in them like baked clay. He was the first of the two to speak, his voice slurred and thick with the bleariness of a severely injured.

 

"Ya, b'twix th' two o' us, me an' th' Pactbreak'r. Ye think ye can 'urt me with that 'lade of yers, Shard?"

 

As he spoke, he landed his right hand on Yui's shoulder to steady himself, and the shock of that unprecendented action made her forgot how she had been about to interrupt the two. The touch was searing hot even through her dress, the scars making the Dreamer's hand seem misshapen.

 

"Ya, I do think so, Progenitor."

 

Yui had time to raise her hand in futile gesture of protection before the samurai's metalium katana slashed through the air. The Dreamer released his weak grip on Yui and staggered back, some part of his battle instincts still working, but he was too badly wounded to act with his usual swiftness. The blow that had been intended to be fatal struck him in the left thigh. The planewalker slipped on his own blood and crashed down again, this time all the way. He whispered something inaudible into the shallow red pool and curled around himself.

 

Zadown limped forward, murder in his green eyes, and Yui tried to place herself between the two. They both paused and glanced upwards when a soft sound and a light breeze gently touched them both just before the room was brilliantly lit and a heavy wind created by huge wings buffeted everybody nearby. Above the limp form of the Dreamer hovered one of his bodyguards, a tall, shimmering Solar wreathed in a nimbus of holy brilliance.

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Gazing up at the calm features of the angel, Yui groaned inwardly as she felt the situation slip further out of control. Zadown could barely stand; the Dreamer was already down. Valdar lay in a giggling heap on top of Vlad, who looked significantly more pained than amused. Behind them, the wall was spiderwebbed with cracks from the explosion and their subsequent impact, and she could feel the reinforcing magic that had been woven into the newest rebuild of the Cabaret room straining to hold the ruined structure in place. The newcomer, a woman with a face the Huntress recognized but had no name for, stood there with an expression that lingered between surprise and indignation, and having seen that the woman had some control of mana, she worried that the woman might try something without knowing the powers of her opponents.

 

"Yamete!*" she ordered, turning her intense gaze to Zadown, whose green eyes were set to calculating his chances of getting past the guardian to attack the fallen Master. "You must not fight here."

 

The bleeding mage sneered, growling, "Ya know quite well that we have ta fight, Lady. I won't be wiped away s'easily as tha others."

 

Yui nodded slightly, not backing down an inch, "Soo desu kedo** this is the Pen Keep, not the bloody battle ground you would create. We will not let you destroy this place in your attempt to slay the aspects of yourselves. Not again."

 

"An' ya think ye, a child, a vampire an' a mana-channeler are enough t'stop either of us?"

 

"We don't have to stop you," she answered, stepping calmly closer. "We only have to move you, and I don't even need their help for that." As she watched Zadown consider her words, the Huntress serruptitiously took hold of a corner of her voluminous cape, watching her small shadow darken his tall, lanky form and calculating exactly where to throw the material to make the portal big enough.

 

* {Japanese}: Stop!

** {Japanese}: True, but...

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The primal energies of Planar battle magic hummed with a dangerous sound, tugging and whispering and screaming into the ears behind the ears of Peredhil.

The air around him burst into blue flames as several defensive spells flared in reaction faster than thought, channels through and between Planes painfully thrust open in the Pull.

Elrohir was the first to arrive, his Portal flashing open on the bedroom wall, bracer guarding eyes as his broadsword flamed Spirit in his left hand.

Mere seconds later, the door, reinforced as it was, burst before a *very* motivated Guido. Nuncio, with a Thompson sub-machinegun bearing incendiary blessed silver bullets tumbled in behind.

Elladan, returning from the far lands undergoing Armageddon was the last to arrive.

 

Fifteen seconds of time since Peredhil flared. And all too late. The room was empty and Peredhil was no where to be seen.

Elladan’s smile was a grimace, a distorted mirror of Elrohir’s somber face as the twins grasped hands. Their bodies spasmed as their powers and minds meshed, the two cloven in the womb coming together to be more than their halves. Hands joined, they stepped out on the Adept walk in hopes of finding their father. That they even had to search did not bode well.

Guido and Nuncio were left to gallop from the room by more ordinary means, leaving a trail of words that had *never* been heard in the Polite Chambers.

 

Actinic mana ran off Peredhil in waves. From his place at the Root of the Pen, far below the surface, he linked into the foundational spells. Since Mynx had revealed a weakness, he’d been meaning to do this, but it was now a necessity. It had to have been the Dreamer, he could think of no one else capable of rending not only the physical barriers that made the Pen, but also the spiritual and magical ones.

 

As he’d done with Rune, so he did now alone. Channeling all that he was into the network of mana, pulling all that he’d gathered throughout his Planar journeys, he began reweaving the spells of peace, love, acceptance and tolerance that formed the background on which the Pen rested.

 

His form grew too bright to view, until only a small blue ball suspended in a web of lightings was visible to mortal or mage sights.

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A body made impact on his face sending Vlad staggering, then sliding, backwards. A pair of hands slowed his motion, and finally he came to a stop. Trying to adjust his focus, the vampire saw an active elf on top of his torso. For a few minutes he drifted in and out of consciousness, struggling to understand what was happening.

 

Summating the events, Vlad tried to make sense of everything that had just gone on. He remembered stopping between two opposing beings. He remembered being hit from the front, and caught from the back. Probably the action of one of the two he was in the middle of. He felt a blast of energy quite alien to him, and then heard someone talk of a child. He felt something cold, an aura or shadows, from the other end of the room.

 

Trying to recover his thoughts, the pained figure turned to his side began his attempts to stand. Doing so, Vlad quickly realized his legs would never support his weight in this condition. Still on his side, his agony only extended upon feeling another impact near his rib-cage. A sharp crack followed, muffled by whatever hit him. Letting out a moan, he started coughing up blood.

 

The purge let him act through the pain, and the vampire understood there to be a strong source of light from the first combatant. Rising to his knees Vlad crawled away from the emminating figure, before finally taking to his feet and steading his weight against one of the few remaining walls. Looking back he recognized marble fragments near his former position and winced, the pain in his ribs returned sharply.

 

"Hey...you. Lady... what... what's go...going on? Yui?" the vampire managed to get out between heavy breaths.

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Dana shook her head and attempted to subtract energy from the air around her, she had given Zadown more than she had planned, and felt slightly light-headed. Tapping into the natural flows she sensed that the room was filled with used mana, and for a moment she had difficulties finding a clean enough flow to restore herself. But then the fog in her head cleared away and she could feel her strength coming back.

 

She looked around and saw that the person they had called the Dreamer and the mage Zadown were standing opposite of one another; their looks holding unconcealed hostility. Both were swaying on their legs, and while Zadown was holding on to his katana, the Dreamer had placed a hand on the shoulder of the lady that had been crouching next to him when Dana had first entered the room. The lady spoke, and the fight seemed to freeze, for now at least.

 

In the corner of her eyes Dana saw Vlad crawling away from under the elf, and struggling to get back on his feet. At that same moment she sensed a different sort of change in the natural web of energy that held its grip on this world. Someone was weaving a powerful spell, a good spell this time, aimed to spread peace. She tried to tune in to this new spell weaver, but simply didn’t have the necessary experience to localize him. She redirected her thoughts to what was happening in the room, just in time to see the walls falling to pieces that landed on Vlad. He crawled away from under them and managed to get back on his feet.

 

"Hey...you. Lady... what... what's go...going on? Yui?" the vampire asked, breathing heavily, pain flashed over his face as he spoke.

 

“My name is Dana” She replied with a hint of a smile, “and I’m not entirely sure myself.” She turned her face towards the lady that Vlad had addressed with the name Yui, and her look held the same question.

Edited by Sweetcherrie
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"No hurtin uncle Dreamer!"

 

Slipping in and out of the Astral in the blink of an eye, Valdar was tugging the Dreamer by one limp arm backwards. Too small to acompalish the task, he threw himself on top of the unconcious Planewalker protectivley. Squeezing his eyes shut, he whispered again.

 

"No hurting uncle Dreamer."

 

A brilliant blue sphere of protection swirled into existance around them, seperating both Planewalkers from the outside world. The Solaris blinked in suprise and flapped it's wings desperatley trying to avoid the barrier. It failed to slow it's fall, and winced visibly as one foot made contact with Valdar's shield. To everyone's suprise, the shield bent - and then snapped upwards, throwing the angel into the air again with great force.

 

Those standing were once again forced to duck as the angel rebounded off the roof, wall, painting, table and doorframe.

Edited by Valdar and Astralis
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The Solar roared in anger and unfurled his vast wings, steadying his position in the air again and shaking the mortar dust off. The softer glow radiating from every single heavenly white feather drowned the shadows in the room in a rain of golden light, inadvertently ruining Yui's plans to transport the angry samurai away from the planewalker with her shadow magic. Faced with the majestetic angel and Peredhil's power playing the strings of his soul without him noticing it, Zadown took an ungainly step backwards and carefully slid his katana to his belt, blade upwards so the keen metalium edge wouldn't sever the fabric of the sash. He turned towards Yui and waved in frustration at the planewalker's bodyguard and at Valdar's wards.

 

"Fine. Ye win, m'lady, it seems. We'll just let him terrorize us and the Pen as he has done so far."

 

The spells that bound the Pen together and that Peredhil was reinforcing did not touch the proud creature flying above his master. He quickly deemed Valdar a potential ally and dismissed him, frowned at the shadows he saw in Yui's soul but let his judging, penetrating gaze continue its patrol. The scrutiny of the burning eyes slid over Dana, barely slowing down, paused for a moment on Zadown before continuing and landed on Vlad.

 

"Àndániel! Alshaél faérzûn sháhmaes! Àndániel!"

 

Solar's voice boomed through the room with a force of will that would have made ordinary mortals tremble, even if none present did. He then leaped upwards with one powerful blow of his wings, sending dust and small debris from the weakened walls up as a miniature sandstorm, drew his sword that immediately burst into pure flames of holy wrath and swooped down. Dazzled by the light and surprised, Vlad had barely time to shield himself with his right arm before a single mighty blow from the burning greatsword cut him in twain from left shoulder to the right side of his hip, the white flames eating hungrily away at his undead flesh.

 

The Solar let out a short cry of victory and beat its vast wings again to gain distance from the wall Vlad had been leaning against, the resulting gale mixing the ashes of the burnt flesh into the general sandstorm. Where Vlad had stood was now a sad pile of badly burned body parts.

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(Several floors up, in a calibrated round tower of the Pen)

 

Tzimfemme lay sprawled out over her pile of soft warm underwear, mouth still snoring-open but with wide, alert eyes. "Did I--no," she mumbled into her nest, not willing to vocalize 'snore myself awake' even with nobody around to hear her. She pulled her arms through the nest and propped her chin up on her hands while listening; the lab equipment hummed and whirred, the wards on the chocolate pantry sizzled as they zapped a wayward fly, and the air outside crackled with curses. Tzimfemme tilted her head. About half of that vulgarity was lyrical. . .

 

Several seconds later, she shook off the last of the underwear caught on one leg and bolted out of her chamber, flinging the door open and peering out into the hallway. Nuncio cut short the well-balanced curses but Guido, half a second faster, confronted Tzimfemme first.

 

"Peredhil?!"

 

"Don't know, haven't seen, put that thing down!" she yelped, seeing the gun.

 

*****

 

(In the Conservatory)

 

"WhoaoaohhhWHEEstartedsingingitnotgonnafallnowNOOOOOOOOOYES!Freedom!"

 

The four-way deadlock between Zool's obliviousness, Wyvern's center of gravity, Kaitlyn's virtuosity, and Minta's necromancy had dissolved when Valdar ricocheted through the room and out again. Wyvern had extricated himself from the heap and raced away as soon as he could pry his horns loose, whereas Kaitlyn just lay there continuining to sing and Minta chimed in, "Now can I sing along too?", and Minta's zombies sidled towards the door, holding Zool's portrait sideways between them as a blind.

 

*****

 

(Upstairs)

 

"--can't do that kind of magic. Take that ring off and hold still," Tzimfemme ordered Guido. She held up her hand and thought grimly about the divisions between this persona and the next, and muttered her own names to herself. A wisp of silver coalesced around her hand, and Tzimfemme lifted a hip and didn't so much waft the wisp into a kiss as propel it at Guido like a dart from a blowgun. It splashed against his fur and extinguished itself. Her eyes flicked in all directions, and she blurted, "That makes no sense. He's everywhere. Can't trace him, the stones knock together and say Peredhil while they settle, the air goes in and out with Peredhil breathing. Nobody, but nobody, holds that power here. Not Rune, not Orlan, not anyone crossing the borders. Self-contained. Stuff spinning." She slid down the wall seeing bright gold flashes, but Guido and Nuncio had already beat feet.

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Yui frowned in sympathy at the frustration and pain in Zadown's eyes, reaching out a hand to steady him as he swayed under the influence of injury and blood loss. "We a--"

 

The sound of her name interrupted whatever she'd been about to say, and the Huntress jerked her head around, hearing pain in the word. Who was being hurt, now?

 

Vlad. And ... the little Elder sighed, noting she really needed to learn the new girl's name. The latter seemed fine, but the vampire held his ribs in a twisted embrace, his features too taught and haunted for even an undead. He would be of no use. Yui gestured, hoping the girl would have the sense to follow an order and save the questions for later.

 

"I need you to take Vlad to the infirmary, lady. You're both in da--" She didn't get to finish the sentence, interrupted by the unintelligible rage in the angel's booming voice. He moved, a lightning strike of light and metal and flame, and there was only time for a horrified, "Ei!*" before Vlad was sliced in twain, ashes burnt from portions of his body swirling around Dana's feet. The women both watched them scatter with varying degrees of shock, but for Yui's part, it felt as if a vice had latched around her lungs. She couldn't breathe, but it wasn't darkness that descended on her vision, it was the cold blue of rage.

 

"YOU!" The hate-filled word coincided with the crack of the fist-sized rock that slammed into the Solar's perfect cheekbone. The impact snapped his head around and scored a line of blood across his skin, but his surprise was from the sheer audacity of the attack. Who fought an angel with stones?! He turned to the small woman, the stained Ascendant who met his incredulous gaze with wounded defiance and an unhealthy amount of murderous intent. "You are here to guard your master, not murder his allies! Undo what you have done, or you will join him in oblivion."

 

(... she says, quite aware that he most likely has no power to restore a slain undead. >:} )

 

* {Japanese}: No!

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The essence that was Peredhil continued to draw power, and Power, and POWER of all its resources. He continued to merge, to meld into the living structure that was the Pen, the Keep, the Grounds, the Hill on which Cyril's seat sat, the small house of Jechum on the path behind and so much more. The Doors and Walls greeted his touch lovingly, for they Knew him, although when he was in his body they were only a faint memory.

This was much harder than any other time, for there were so many Not-Self in the Pen area.

He was stretching so far as to lose Self and so he paused and formed a foci of Self, a lens of perception through which to assess his body.

 

The Pen Walls behind Zadown shimmered, dust and pebbles and stone shimmering to reform. As it deflected off the Solar's cheek, the Stone curved and merged into its place.

 

Elladan and Elrohir faded in like a Cheshire grin as their Adept spell was gently dissolved. Elladan perceived the situation and solution without understanding it was opened up the power of the Two to provide a point of existence for their father, stabilizing through shared power and blood in an eldritch magic that passed back into antiquities of time.

Their offering was not acknowledged or accepted, and they knew fear.

 

And still Peredhil drew on power from outside the Plane, avoiding the rude disruption of local mana so essential to so many within him.

 

...Penedhil...

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Dana saw it happening as if someone had pushed the play-by-play button. The flash of light and metal flared in slow motion, and sliced through Vlad’s body. The angel’s beating wings caused parts of the vampire’s body to fly her way, covering her boots with blood and still cindering ashes. Yui’s icy scream echoed in her ears and Dana staggered back a few steps, aghast by what she had just witnessed.

 

She barely had time to recover before Yui launched a rock at the angel with a strenght she had never expected from the lady. Unfortunately the stone barely caused a scratch on the Solar’s features, and Dana doubted that this had been a smart move, but at least the lady had managed to get the Solar’s attention. Yui raged at the creature, and Dana steadied herself, expecting it to take revenge any moment now.

 

In the back of her head she still sensed the unknown spell weaver, and hoped that his spells would be strong enough. For a moment his image became clearer and she was flooded with feelings of love, acceptance and tolerance, and in that moment she decided that she would fight for these people if needed. The spirit that was flowing through this world was worth it, even if it night mean dying.

 

Her face hardened and she cautiously moved closer to Yui. Never letting her eye wonder from the scene in front of her, she started gathering the energy flows around her, preparing herself for whatever would come.

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"Úníel!"

 

The wound caused by the rock vanished, the nonmagic item lacking the needed power to truly injure the magnificient creature screeching words of High Angelic. He pointed at Yui with his 5 foot long sword, the white flames that had so ravaged Vlad's undead body still dancing along the mithril blade. A slight doubt marred the visage of perfect anger, however, and the Solar stayed hovering above the brilliant blue wards Valdar had erected between the two planewalkers and the rest of the world. Yui pointed right back at the hulking angel with her slender finger, her hand trembling in anger.

 

"You heard me, angel - now heal him!"

 

"Únel, alshaélaé faérhûn hëshâen. Ìshleâen, ío."

 

While the angel uttered his scornful words, Zadown took a careful, pained step forward to stand beside the Huntress. He had drawn his katana again, but its tip pointed towards the floor and his face had no obvious anger on it. Keeping the sword in his right hand, he touched Yui Temae's shoulder gently and spoke softly, keeping his wary eyes on the hovering Solar.

 

"Yui, I doubt he can fix an undead. Remember how it was with dominions and vampires, back in the days of Terra?"

 

Underneath the radiant white wings of the Solar, next to the shocked Valdar, the Dreamer lay very, very still in the slowly expanding pool of his own blood.

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The Boundary Wards were sealed once again.

 

The worst of the structural damages were rebuilt or repaired.

 

The Pen enchantments which played with space/time had been recast. Some members would find their rooms enlarged. Some rooms were carefully inventoried and their space reclaimed until their Member returned to reclaim them.

 

But all this was standard background processing. The immediate focus was on reintegrating memberships and their Pen rights. This was trickier than might be assumed, being a subtle subtle matter of Ma'at.

 

The Pen Members could not be bound, for that was the antithesis of Peredhil and Peredhil was the Pen Keep at the moment.

And so those who thought loudly and didn't veil their thoughts, the emotions, the spells, the passive enchantments, the actions and words and personalities, all would come together in a variation of Peredhil's innate ability of being able to True Name.

The Pen, without compromising free will, infused the mana and the air with its enchantment, passively absorbing all that they gave, in order to anticipate and support the Membership. Thus, for example, opening a door off the Cabaret, a Member found the Birthday Room when they expected it.

Some could find the Courtyard, others the Guild.

For those who accepted a small Binding of Responsibility and servitude, a small group who could find the Tower, there was an active part...

 

Yui looked up (and up and ...) at the literally inhuman Solar. It's beauty and perfect were a Charisma Attack of a type, in merely existing. It's holiness made every failure, every stain on the soul a chasm gaping into the death of sin, sin as the Angelic being defined it.

Yui just didn't give a holy damn at the moment. She might tolerate an injury to herself, but hurting someone she loved and/or respected made her insanely brave. The Dreamer's pain was bad enough, but Vlad. Vlad was a MEMBER.

Which rage, in this case, was an advantage. She didn't have a clue what to do with this murdering Thing because she *knew* she was running a bluff. Her only hope was for someone who specialized in this sort of thing to show up before the angel discerned the truth.

Therefore, it was an angry shrug of her shoulder that dislodged Zadown's helpful hand, a rude act she'd never normally do. Stepping forward, she shook her finger at the angel, a tiny robed figure pointing up at the vast being who filled the room. (Which room had politely grown to encompass the crowd.)

 

"Baka! I've had enough of this," she snarled.

 

TThe Pen, now the Dreamer had dwindled so far toward death, could hear and perceive and respond. An ELDER was in danger, a full member was slain.

 

"You can NOT slay Pennites!" rage and tears mixed in her voice.

 

It wasn't a threat so the Solar didn't notice. Yui was underneath and couldn't see.

A small whirlpool of light appeared above the Solar and drifted down to lightly touch the perfect hair.

 

With a small pop, the Solar was gently but firmly thrust back to where it had come.

 

Which left the Elder Yui shaking a finger at the air, still shaking in rage and fear, and with the oddest image of the *look* on the Solar's face as it felt itself fade away from a shaken finger, a look she would treasure forever.

 

As she lowered her finger slowly, Zadown stepped back with a curious look of respect and astonishment. As they exchanged looked, Yui said in wonder, "I have no clue how I did that."

 

A few brilliant feathers and the ashes of Vlad were all showed a Solar had been here. As the room shrank a bit to accomodate fewer people, Dana was the only one to notice as a small whirlpool of light tidily sent the feathers after the angel.

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Peredhil's power found the cooling body of the Dreamer, poking effortlessly through Valdar's wards, and finding no active mind inside the entity considers it part of the scenery. Very, very damaged part of the scenery, damaged and errant. The same flows of magic that had repaired the walls and bound them to the enchantment of the Pen begun their work on the planewalker. They poured a river of raw mana into the hole that had burned straight through the Dreamer's abdomen, tugged at the last feeble protective layers surrounding the impenetrable fortress which housed his True Name: healing hands and potential shackles, at the same time. His bleeding finally stopped just as the binding fingers of the enchantment crawled over the first of the inner walls.

 

That blow struck deeper than anything ever before, the threat of binding far more ghastly and terrible than death and oblivion. What was still awake (and what was awakened by the healing powers of the spell) of the multi-faceted, ancient mind wailed and trashed, then stretched itself in last, desperate attempt to find some lever to push the politely invading enchantment back.

 

The Dreamer's body jerked, too feeble to throw Valdar off his back, and he moaned softly into the pool of blood, making it ripple for a brief moment before he went limp and silent again. Zadown noticed the struggle and gave his adversary a sharp glance, but did not raise his katana or say anything.

 

A thin golden strand, invisible to everybody in the room, extracted itself from the soul of the injured planewalker and flung itself outward - a call powered by a loan from Peredhil's spell and semi-conscious blood magic, by sheer immortal tenacity and old, barely forgotten connections. It penetrated the wall to Astral and sped through the secret byways of dead souls and disembodied travellers, moved with nearly instant speed past spirits ascending to heavens and descending to hells.

 

****

 

[somewhere exceedingly far away.]

 

Jankiize hummed softly to herself, a smile on her face even though she was alone. She stirred the casserole with a wooden spoon and added in some spices, breathing in the resulting delicious aroma of hot food. Her gaze travelled upwards from the steaming pot and over the selection of drying plants hanging from the wall, a mild frown appearing on her pretty face as she wondered if she should add some more spices. Abruptly she felt a presence in the room and paused, the frown deepening.

 

"Mechael? Are you home already..."

 

Her voice faded as the presence grew more focused and she realized it was only in her mind, that it was the Dreamer calling her from somewhere far away. A fragment of an old memory suddenly flashed before her eyes, torn free by the insistent connection - Sshh, m’lady – weather this storm and I will shut down the channel soon. - and she barely had time to think ... but the Grail is gone! ... before she felt the spell surge through the old link that had connected the planewalker and her and the Grail, sapping a considerable portion of her own strength before it vanished again. Almost fainting, she fell to her knees, the delicious aroma of food starting to turn burnt and foul.

 

****

 

[Nowhere, between places.]

 

The Grail lay still, not dormant but ... waiting. Expecting. And when the golden strand found it, a wild calling of a Knight of the Grail in trouble, it flared. Through the tiny string crawling through half the known multiversum, it sent back a pulse of power, an answer to the plea of help.

 

****

 

A golden conflagration burst heavenwards from where the Dreamer had lain. It tore the brilliant blue wards to shreds but did not harm Valdar himself, who cried in surprised and leaped off the body. The visible aura of power dissipated almost as soon as it had formed, revealing the Dreamer slowly standing up, his eyes two globes of gold.

 

"Ye'd BIND a planewalker, ye would!?"

 

The words were heavy and compelling as well as angry, but they held no clear order. People blinked once as the words slid off their mind.

 

Peredhil's semi-conscious mind bent on healing and re-affirming the structure of the Pen now clearly perceived what the Dreamer was - something that wasn't part of the Pen at all. As the flow of it swirled around the rapidly expanding mind of the Dreamer, the angry planewalker got his first glimpse of what really had tried to bind him. Weak but furious beyond words, he sent his own energies to clash against those that Peredhil controlled, a weak, ill-aimed blow let loose in great wrath. It was easily contained and deflected, and in response a great wave of Peredhil's magic rose to expell the intruder from the hallowed rooms of the Pen Keep. Gently, politely, but inexorably, the force that was the Pen and Peredhil at the same time pushed him away.

 

Before their eyes, those present in the room saw a great whirlpool of light engulf the blood-stained Dreamer, floating patches of dark grey, green and blue wards flickering into existence to deflect the force that was pushing him away, some of the pieces of rough magic turning into shadowy claws that tried to tear apart the fabric of the expelling spell. The planewalker snarled in fury, fighting against the spell with pure instincts, his eyes back to normal now: black and red, cold and hot fury. It was Peredhil's home, however, and the Dreamer was far from being fully healed or fully conscious, and thus the conclusion of the struggle was a foregone one to begin with. With one last snarling, unintelligent cry and one last blow against the whirlpool of light, the Dreamer was banished to the Astral.

Edited by Peredhil
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In the brief moment of silence following the banishment of the Dreamer a pinhole of intensely blue light appeared in one corner of the Cabaret Room.

 

The light flickered, as the essence that was Peredhil and the wards surrounding The Pen tasted the magic and found it to be familiar, moments later flaring to reveal a portal of silver and blue magics.

 

Prepairing to combat yet more trouble those Pennites who were capable of doing so turned to face whatever new danger appeared through the portal only to relax as the familiar figure of Gryphon appeared, the portal closing behind him.

 

Taking in the scene before him with suprise Gryphon rapidly assessed the situation, and deciding to get explanations later moved past Yui-chan and an unfamiliar newcomer towards what appeared on first (and second) glance to be the remains of Vlad to see what assistance could be rendered, if any.

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Dana saw the angel disappear and released the energy flows she had been gathering back to the air. What was she doing here? She had just vowed to fight for people she didn’t know, and on top of that they didn’t know her either. She sighed; it was probably best to introduce herself to them now, before the peace was disturbed again.

 

She stepped up to Yui and Zadown and held out her hand. When she noticed that they only looked at her but made no move to make the same gesture, she mumbled, “I can understand you’re wondering what I’m doing here, I’ve been asking myself that same thing,”

 

“Somehow I found myself in this parallel world, and I sensed what was going on in here,” She looked the both of them in the eyes, “I know I’m a stranger to you, but I hoped that you would accept my help. I-“

 

She sensed a new mage entering before she could finish what she was saying, and quickly turned around.

 

“What’s he doing?” she asked and almost send out a shockwave of energy at the newcomer. So far every new person entering had meant trouble, and she refused to be caught unaware again. She held the magic back, but took a defensive position.

 

Yui put her hand on Dana’s arm, “Don’t worry he’s one of us.” Dana turned around and looked in Yui’s eyes, she had sensed it before and felt it now again, this was a powerful lady but also a good person.

 

She nodded sternly, “I will help him with his task,” she turned to the newcomer and smiled, “If he would accept my help of course.”

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Gryphon nods his acceptance of Dana's assistance and the two move to the side of the room over towards the remains of Vlad.

 

"First," Gryphon says, "I need to know, who are you and what happened here."

 

Moments later Dana has introduced herself and is giving Gryphon a brief but clear explanation of what happened in his absence.

 

"Of all the times to step away from The Pen" Gryphon mutters to himself, interrupting Dana who gives him a smile before saying "You think it's bad for you, I just arrived here to find myself in the middle of a battle."

 

Together the two turn to look at the remains of Vlad, taking in the scorch marks and ash that remains from the manner of his demise.

 

"First order of business is to gather the remains I guess," Gryphon says. "I'm sure someone here can restore his unlife, Venefyxatu or Minta both have relevant magic that can help, but we'll need to collect the remains. You were here, the memory of what happened is locked in your head. If you'll permit me to link to you mind to mind while you contentrate on the scene of the battle it will make this task somewhat easier."

 

With uncertainty in the gesture Dana nods cautiously and Gryphon gathers his magic, the sapphire focus at his neck beginning to burn from within with a blue fire as the mage draws his magic through it. Reaching out gently with his mind Gryphon encounters Dana's thoughts and with the sensation of mentally taking her hand links to her and lifts the vivid battle scene from her mind.

 

With an exercise of will Gryphon calls a miniature whirlwind into being, feeding it power to survive in the motionless air of the Cabaret Room it begins to move cautiously around gathering up the specks of ash that were once the Pennite vampire Vlad.

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The golden specks faded almost as soon as she hit the floor, but Tzimfemme still felt anomalies in the persona-patterns, and squeezed her eyes shut to check her body for consumed vampire blood--none? Tzimfemme's mind ranged over the pattern speaking words like footprints on foil; you absorbed Rosemary's mysticism, now use it!. Her skin prickled at the noise and she spoke aloud, "Rosemary called this spiraling. There are vortexes around the more prominent people and a diffuse glow at the magnitude of the Pen itself. The Dreamer's just gone down a mana hole shaped like Gabriel's horn--clever, anything tracing along the outside of the spell would never reach him. The vortexes are simple; I could name most of them from here. It's the glow that bothers me. It's like, it's like--"

 

Tzimfemme shivered and opened her eyes. "It's like the garden?! That was an allegory, there was no garden, only us! Besides," she rationalized, "our garden doesn't even look like that, especially with the wiggly cabbages--" and with a clockwise silvery sliding motion, the cabbage patch materialized in front of her, or had she traveled to the cabbages? The color and the personality drained out of Tzimfemme. ". . .Soaring Icarus's placards, Banquet Hall." Before she finished whispering, another clockwise glide brought the two together. "So that's how he--" and the world flowed again, lightening and shifting from gray to blue. . .but the flow never crystallized and her body stretched like taffy.

 

"Dear gods! I can't, I can't, I can't I can't I can't I can't--"

 

(Radio static, bass; blind.)

 

Very strange to understand and not understand at the same time, yet the paradox. . .helps. Paradox, arch, super-ego and id. Unbreakable compassion.

 

The Pen formulated its checks and balances. Where it had been drawing a great deal of power to wrap around each person, the Pen began to use the passive powers of each member as a catalyst.

 

Conservation of energy, not drawing of their mana, catalyst remains pure. Cannot feed power for all time. Survival or death, twice-told tale.

 

*****

 

Minta tumbled cartwheels into the doorway of the Cabaret Room. "Hihihihihihi!" she sang, "didya see my zombies, they tried to run away, ooooo what's THAT!" She pointed one tiny gnomie hand at the whirlwind.

 

"Be careful!" gasped Dana. "That's Vlad. . .Um. . .That's what's left of Vlad, we're going to try to fix him. . ."

 

"Coooooooooooooooooooooooooooool!"

 

Dana briefly lost her grip on the mana flows. "Cool?!?!" she echoed.

 

Gryphon directed the whirlwind along the junction of wall and floor, where it sucked up all the loose particles and spat pure dust out of its top, and explained, "That's one of the necromancers I told you about. Minta, wait a while, I haven't collected all of his ashes yet."

 

"Don't need those nownow," she giggled, stepping into the room. "He went splat right over here," Minta announced, digging in her heel on the cleaned floor, then hopping back a step. She chomped her jaw a few times, then puffed out her cheeks and spat blood precisely on the spot; the floor sagged underneath the blood, slowly folding in on itself and making a narrow tunnel, not much wider than a drain. "How come there's no smoke an' hellfire comin' out?" Minta wondered aloud, lying down on the floor and putting her eye right over the hole. "Hihi? Anybody down there? I wanna see Vlad pleaseplease!"

 

The air wavered, Minta scrambled to her feet, and faint energy spread from the entrance of the tunnel, diffusing into a watermark of Vlad's face. The face twisted this way and that, yet the eyes were too faint to show motion. "Am sorry but I don't think I got enough of you to let you talk," Minta sighed. "Stupid Pen wards." She shoved her hands into one of her larger pockets and extracted a silver-inlaid leaden urn, holding it up with both hands so Vlad could see it. "You're kinda very burnt an' I can't make you be a vampire again, but I got a BETTER idea. You can be MORE POWERFUL an' HARDER TO KILL an' COOLER! It'll take two spells though, first I gotta put your soul in this--an' that's the part you are nownow--an' then I'll scoop up your ashes an' put them in this too an' do another spell an' then kaboom! You'll be outta there an' back here an' super powerful! Nod to say okok!"

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Valdar sat amidst the broken remains of the cupboard he had crashed into, unharmed save a rapidly healing scratch on his forearm. What remained of his wards sparkled and flared weakly around him as they attempted to re-form and failed. The Planewalker child quickly wove a tiny spell into the fabric of magic still pulsing through the room, swimming through the manastreams still thick with expanded planar magic. For a moment he glimpsed the source of the Dreamer's banishment and his face turned a deathly pale.

 

"Auntie Yui?" He asked softly, enormous eyes tinged with fear. No one noticed him at first, too stunned by the sudden outburst of violence. The broken shield gave one final flicker and died, dissipating into a fine mist. When no answer was forthcoming, he called again insistently. "Auntie Yui!"

 

Snapped out of her own rage, Yui quickly rushed over to the little elf in relief.

 

"Valdar! I'm so glad-"

 

He cut her off with a fierce earshake. "Auntie Yui! Uncle Dreamer is hurt bad an angry . He might think uncle Peredhil tried to bind him!"

 

"Nani?!" *

 

"The spell was too strong! It tried to heal uncle Dreamer's soul an disturbed th' defenses around his true name! That's why he was so angry-because only someone who wantsto bind him would do that but I think it was a mistake!" His ears were arched downwards in dismay with their tips nearly touching over his chest.

 

Yui shook her head slowly. "Valdar, I'm sure uncle Peredhil and uncle Dreamer are grown-Planewalkers. Surely they can-" She cut herself off, realizing that perhaps the Dreamer would not be ready for the finer points of negotiations just yet. A few motes of mana still floated in Valdar's eyes, tiny blue clouds against white as he whispered words only she could hear. "You've never seen Tlaenor auntie Yui. . .they tried to bind him there too."

 

For a moment she saw, reflected in his huge eyes; An enormous plain of glass stretching as far as the eyes could see, broken only by the twisted remains of once proud towers. Overhead, a few carrion birds circled under the relentless sun while shades marched below, only markers for the death spot of Tlaenor.

 

*-What?! (I think)

Edited by Valdar and Astralis
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