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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Eyes Without Faces


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Kikuyu opened her eyes. Pain lanced through her shoulder, and in less than a moment she had flipped away onto a branch nearby. She didn't bother to double take the situation (branch...tree?!) but placed three kuunai held in her one working hand against the throat of the truly disgusting...

 

"Oh," she said calmly. Hjolnai blinked at her as she withdrew her weapons. "Not a ghoul."

 

"Please sit still," the orc-knight insisted. "You are injured, and..."

 

Kikuyu jumped from the branches, landing in a crouch that padded her fall. "Not badly, stupid," she snarled. "Don't play around." She blinked as the world swam crazily around her, not noticing that the orc-knight had already departed in another direction.

 

Holding her left arm to her body, Kikuyu kicked a ghoul in the face. The neck snapped and the head rolled back, but the body flushed forward. Kikuyu stepped aside a little awkwardly, biting her lip as the heavy corpse knocked against her arm.

 

"Wyvern, some assistance!"

 

The Almost-Dragon peeked out from the bushes, his hands clasped around a bottle of peppers. "What?" he shrilled.

 

Kikuyu jumped over to him and turned her left arm towards the Elder. "Shove my arm back in."

 

"WHAT?"

 

Kikuyu outstretched her arm. "Shoulder dislocated-- shove it back in for me!"

 

The Almost-Dragon gripped her elbow, stammering. "I...what iss thissss..."

 

A ghoul smashed into Kikuyu from behind, shoving her into the Almost-Dragon, still clutching her elbow. Something clicked and Kikuyu stabbed at the ghoul on top of her, snarling furiously. "Thanks Wyv!" she shouted, rotating her shoulder. It clicked eerily with each pass, but now she could use her arm. Kikuyu pushed the discarded pepper can back into the Elder's grasp. "Sorry. Hey, Ozy, good to see you."

 

The other Elder cast her a brief glance before slicing a particularly juicy ghoul into two new pieces. "A pleasant night, isn't it?"

 

Kikuyu stayed near Wyvern, placing a hand on her as yet unsheathed katana. "Yes, it is."

 

Light flared under her collar bone and the ninja turned inwards. "She's close," she muttered.

 

"Dego?" Wyvern queried, scratching his nose.

 

Kikuyu glanced nervously at the pepper can and tightened her grip on Dego's necklace in her pocket. "Yeah. Very close."

Edited by Kikuyu Black Paws
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"You sssure your shoulder'sss OK, Kikuyu?" Wyvern blinked and rubbed his eyes for a moment over the light generated from the ninja's collar bone. "She's very clossse you say?"

 

"Wyvern!" Ordolar shouted again, his orcish armor soaked in blood and covered in bone fragments. "An antislime tool. Do you have one?!"

 

"Antisssslime?" Wyvern eyed Ordolar for a moment and wondered if this had to do with a case of orcish snot indigestion, then turned his snout in the direction that the paladin was facing and noticed the giant glob of mutant undead slime that he'd been covering his eyes from. "oh geeze."

 

Wyvern took a few moments let his nausea settle, then absent-mindedly began digging through his sack of items without tearing his eyes away from the monstrosity. The overgrown lizard dug deeper and deeper into the bag until he realized it contained nothing of use against the ghoulish slime. He moved a claw up to his utility belt with a hiss.

 

"Well..." Wyvern hissed in a distant voice, his attention still fixed on the slime as he pulled the pepper shaker from his belt. "I guessss it's time for Plan B."

 

Sir Ordolar and Kikuyu both smiled and stepped back as Wyvern carefully raised the pepper shaker with a claw, moving it closer and closer to his snout. They raised their hands to their ears in the hopes of deafening the sound of any loud explosions, only to gawk as Wyvern tossed the pepper shaker at the blob instead of sniffing at it and causing an inferno. They watched glumly as the slime passed over the pepper shaker, consuming it into its mass of gelatinous gangrene.

 

"There!" Wyvern dusted his claws off with a grin, turning to Kikuyu and Ordolar. "Watch, I betcha that thing's allergic to pepper. Not betting ya with geld of course, jussst in principal."

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The slime monster seemed unaffected by the pepper attack, so Sir Ordolar charged (yet again), and began slashing at its bony limbs, which at least could be harmed. His massive arms swung the huge light-bringing sword with tremendous force, cutting right through a skeletal limb at least ten bones thick, hardly slowing in the blow, but falling fragments of bone were merely reabsorbed by the slime, and reformed into new appendages. A force great enough to cut through a dragon's scales could do little to harm the foul slime, but buying time was worth the effort. With the slime thus engaged, Sir Walnut had time to rush off and deal efficiently with less dangerous foes, and also gained the time to think of any ideas to destroy the vile-smelling sludge.

 

Meanwhile,yet more undead marched on toward the distracted group of three...

 

 

Back at the keep, thousands of zombies were forming a wall of rotting flesh for several metres around the boundaries. Whenever they pushed forward, the magic of the keep pushed back, but sooner or later there would not be enough power to hold back the tireless masses...

Edited by Hjolnai
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Kikuyu leaned heavily against a tree, allowing the cool wind and bark to soothe her shoulder. The blood pounded heavily in both arm and head and she breathed deeply, eyes half-closed. Wyvern hovered shadily nearby, and out among the trees the orc-knight and Sir Walnut, as well as Ozymandias, were taking care of ghouls and the newest slime-esque foe. They were tiny sparks of fey light at the back of her mind, indistinct under the scarlet, pounding waves of pain.

 

Degorram's bubble still vibrated strongly in her chest. It was a comfort...so warm...

 

Something bright momentarily blinded the ninja and she opened her eyes. Two glowing orbs stared at her avidly, unblinking. There was no body...only the bright staring lights...

 

Kikuyu gasped and slashed out with a short dagger. The eyes blinked and floated lazily away, staring at her almost ruefully. They turned inward and disappeared, a tiny sparkle that faded away.

 

"No!" Kikuyu growled. She darted after the Kiln, throwing every star that came to hand. The faceless eyes turned back, a couple hundred feet away, staring almost gloatingly back at her. I'm going to tell him everything, they seemed to say. So much for your surprise attack now. Your sister will be dead before you reach her.

 

"Not so fast," she hissed. Her katana slid noiselessly from her sheathe, tiny chimes tinkling on the hilt. It was time to get serious.

Edited by Kikuyu Black Paws
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As preparations began for the rescue party, Jolinar forced herself to stay silent. Part of her wanted to go with the rescue group--go find Degorram, defeat the necromancer, vanquish evil, the whole bit. However, Dreamers are taught, above all things, to be practical. It is not their place to desire glory or power. One of her old teachers used to joke that it was up to Dreamers to anticipate the stupid choices to be made by the glorious and powerful, to stop them where they could, and see to cleaning up after them when they couldn't. Being unable to help in that manner, Jo did what any sensible Dreamer would do in the situation: she found a comfortable chair and went to sleep.

 

This time prophecy wasn't just handed to her--she had to actually look for it. She was a little disappointed. The vision earlier had been so clear, so insistent. She had been hoping her luck would hold. Flashes of the future or past or present were not uncommon, but hardly ever all three at once as clearly as she had experienced earlier.

 

Jolinar had tried many times to explain the dream world to non-Dreamers. She had never been able to find the words, it was too abstract. Suffice it to say that searching for prophecy was a tedious business--you had to pick away at the layers, sort through the possible futures until you found flashes of your own timeline. It was like a sort of dance, with fine precision that came from a lifetime of training. She saw the Keep being attacked, being overrun, being defended…Delicate steps in a minuet that--

 

And then all of a sudden her vision was wrenched from her control.

 

It was as though someone had grabbed her mind and was twisting it, squeezing it. She screamed inside the dream. Back in her chair, her physical body suddenly spasmed, the dream-scream reflected as a high pitched whimper.

 

"No--Who--What--what is--No!" she felt as she had that morning, only instead of visions being poured into her, she felt them being sucked out. Faster and faster and faster--she couldn't stop it, she could barely resist it. And it hurt. Like having a deep telepathic scan by someone who didn't care if they fried the mind or not. She screamed again, so loud this time that it carried through to her physical body, which was now shaking uncontrollably in its chair

 

And then she saw him. The Necromancer. The one who had brought pain to the lives of the people who had been so kind to her. It was him, pulling from her mind. He had poured those visions in earlier. It all fit together. She saw his mind: she had been used--a back up plan to drive Kikuyu out of the Keep with visions of Degorram should her friends force her to stay in safety. Jolinar gasped as the power let her mind go, dropping it without care. Physically, her body slid to the floor, crumpled and sad like a rag doll.

 

She struggled, in the dream, to find Degorram, to find the necromancer using Kikuyu's strong feelings from earlier as a guide. She felt so weak, and all she saw at first were the thousands of shadows and glittering eyes surrounding the Keep, but at last she found them both--in a box, in a clearing, surrounded by a thin guard of soldiers. The scene had the fuzzy-outlined look of the near-Future, but the true-colors of the Present. It occurred to Jolinar that her vision could be lagging behind the Present by mere seconds.

 

Then a slow smile spread across his face and he looked down at Degorram. "How precious," he said softly. "It seems they've sent a rescue party."

 

Jolinar cursed herself. That was information he'd stolen from her.

 

But a door, once opened, may be stepped through in either direction. Perhaps, if she was merely a Dreamer, she would be unable to step through…but as much as she hated it, she was also a telepath. And telepaths don't need doors. She tried to wedge her thoughts into his mind, make him feel doubt, make him feel all of the love and loyalty and devotion that was chasing after Degorram even now. She tried to be strong, she tried to be fierce. But all she did was make it worse.

 

This is no longer a game, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the shadow of the forest. It is time to stop playing with my food and simply kill it. He again glanced down at Degorram. and Jolinar saw his stare reflected in the shifter's eyes--something had changed.

 

Back in the Pen keep, people had crowded around her, trying to shake her awake. Jolinar felt herself being pulled from sleep. He's going to kill her now…I've angered him even more and he's going to kill Degorram and it's all my fault…

 

"Where is Kikuyu!!" Jolinar's eyes flicked open and she struggled to her feet, then fell, eyes widening with terror. "Is she still here?!" she tried again in vain to stand, tripping over the hem of her dress and ending up painfully on the floor.

 

"The rescue party just left," a well meaning Pennite said, squatting down next to her, "Kikuyu's went with them."

 

"What about wyvern? Anyone?"

 

"Wyvern's with her, too, she's not alone. She'll be ok…"the speaker paused, frowned slightly at Jolinar's blanching face. "Can we get you something? You look terrible…"

 

And, indeed, Jolinar did look terrible. Her face had lost all its color, her eyes widened beyond what seemed anatomically possible, deep pools of guilt and shock and rage and sadness. She drew her knees up to her chest, still sitting on the floor and trying to gather her strength. She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. I've given him Kiyuku. And Wyvern. And who knows who else. I've sent them to die with my stupid, stupid vision. We'll all be overrun. They're already almost here. All will be darkness all will be-- she stopped her thoughts, then, forced herself not to think along those lines. She was ashamed at being so used. Her greatest gift, used against her. And here she was, stuck at the Keep, unable to warn anyone. And then she remembered something--the necromancer was connected to his minions via thoughts, emotions. If she could disrupt that…what would the creatures do? They wouldn't have any reason to attack anymore…you wouldn't be able to reach them a voice in her head said you're not a real telepath, you'd never be able to do much good. Jolinar suppressed a shiver as she realized just how powerful a telepath would be needed to maintain as many creatures as she had seen. And yet...she had been able to find the gathering earlier from three floors away. Surely that meant that Jolinar had sometelepathic power after all...

 

"...and if we can stop them, then at least they'll have a place to fall back to if they can't find her." Jolinar mused aloud. She opened her eyes. She had quite a crowd around her now--all those who had not joined the rescue party. She looked to the doors--more people were still arriving, hearing the news either through Wyvern's messages or by word of mouth. With Kikuyu and the others gone, people were just milling about--you didn't have to be a telepath to grasp the tension in the room. Some people had even seen the approaching storm of necromancer's minions and had fled from the windows. Indeed, she noticed that the curtains had been drawn. Out of sight, out of mind, perhaps?

 

Jolinar thought about just fading back into the crowd. It was not for a Dreamer to desire power or glory…And yet…they would be overrun soon. Something had to happen…she knocked her knuckles to her palm, brows knitting together as she surveyed the room. She

was a telepath, she did have some power. Dreaming had failed her, now it was time to try her other talents. She might not be able to block the necromancer's connection to all his creatures, but she could at least block some. She sighed, shook out her hair and did her best to tie it neatly back into a sort of half bun. Then she stood up on her chair.

 

"Excuse me…excuse me…" she said, standing on top of her chair, waving her arms to get the room's attention. In moments it was granted--everyone turned to her, hungry for news. Their faces, so full of fear and confusion called out to her, pulled at her heart the same way Kikuyu's had. In a way, we're all the same. We're all threatening to lose something important to us, she her sister and us our home.

 

"Hello…" she said, not really knowing how to start, "I've had another vision. I saw them--the creatures will soon be upon us--" the room exploded as everyone tried to speak at once, but Jolinar raised her hands to quiet them, "but the rescue party is nearly to Degorram and the Necromancer, too. We just have to hold off the attack until they get back. We can fight the creatures, I know we can. It's all about distraction. As long as the necromancer's forces are distracted here, the guard on the necromancer himself will be minimal--Kikuyu and our other friends will be able to get in, get Degorram, and…dispatch with the necromancer. Once he's gone, his creatures will have no one to control them and they'll de-animate," she was growing increasingly excited, her voice got faster and faster, "What we need now is to get organized…we need to set up a perimeter of light, facing outward, " she paused for a moment, replaying the part of her dream where she had skimmed past their attackers, "they're shadows, they move best in darkness, they're going to try to sneak in wherever they can. Light may not deter them, but at least it'll let us see what we're up against so we can get a clear shot." Not to mention that a direct line of sight would help her to get into their heads and block the necromancer's direction. However, she chose to leave that part out--people were not always trusting of telepaths, and she needed everyone to work with her. "Everyone who can fight, find a way of arming yourselves..." Jolinar wondered briefly how exactly one killed a reanimated-corpse-shadow-zombie-vampire-thing, but pushed that question aside to be dealt with later. "As for the rest…well…we'll figure it out." she paused for a moment, once again surveyed the room. "Well, let's get to it--they'll be upon us soon and we've got to buy the rescue party some time..." she paused, trying not to get too carried away, "that is, unless anyone else has any other ideas?"

Edited by troubled sleep
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Kikuyu faltered in her step, her katana coming to a direct halt. The eyes ahead of her halted as well, turning back questioningly, wondering why its follower had suddenly stopped. Kikuyu glanced behind her-- the sounds of the others had faded quickly, now were almost covered up by the wind entirely.

 

Kikuyu turned back with a final, disgusted glance at the Kiln. "Stupid, stupid, stupid...don't get yourself carried away."

 

Kikuyu sheathed her katana with a snap and strode back into the slimey clearing, mowed down by fighting ghouls, zombies, vampiric-nightmares, and the small pennite group. She folded her arms across her chest and sighed.

 

A hush fell around her, as if only for her ears, and Kikuyu perked up. The wind suddenly sounded hyper-detailed in her ears, and the outlines of bark and leaves were sharpened past usual clarity. The stars glittered and the ninja could almost smell their burning gasses. She turned her head.

 

Her eyes rested on the black-tipped face of a fox, staring solemnly at her. Tiny black-stained paws gripped the earth as the fox shivered, watching the ninja and the other fighters plunging wildly past, almost as if part of another, more violent world. Kikuyu's mouth opened breathlessly. "Dego..."

 

The fox disappeared. Kikuyu inhaled sharply and looked back at the sky. "Well then," she said with a feral grin..."Thank you."

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Walnut rubbed his singed eyebrows, a gout of flame nearly burning him. This was not gong well. Ordolar was doing his best, as he hacked with all his strength, at least slowing down the foul slime. Think, Walnut thought to himself, I know there has to be something I could do. Walnut grinned as an idea awoke in his head. He reached into his purple bag, digging down to the bottom. Adventuring on the disc one learns to never depend on magic items. Magic is everywhere, not always doing anything useful. But, this wasn't magic. Walnut pulled a scaly ball out of his bag, about the size of an egg. He winded back and threw it at the slime.

 

"Quick everyone, goose! I mean duck!", Walnut shouted as he dropped to the ground.

 

You could here the the scales sizzle as the slime devoured them. Suddenly an explosion rocked the clearing, sending even Ordolar reeling.

 

"What do you know? The swamp dragon digestive juices in side that dragon scale ball really did come in handy."

 

Discworld swamp dragons tend to explode, a lot.

Edited by Sir Walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat
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As Sir Ordolar climbed back to his feet, he saw that the remnants of the slime monster were quickly vanishing into flames. Unfortunately, these flames were beginning to take in the trees. Soon the dense forest would be an inferno! Seeing one sapling which had already caught fire, he chopped it down with his sword, and ground it into the cold mud, which soon put out that source, but fire already danced in several other places...

 

By sheer coincidence, a torrential downpour begun at just that moment. Cutting through the dark fog, the rain quickly quenched the fire, but now all the ground was quickly becoming slippery with mud. Despite this mud, the few remaining undead were quickly cut down, but it would be very hard to move on for several hours. Sir Ordolar knew that if the mud became too deep, the entire group would sink and drown.

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Back at the keep, thousands of zombies were forming a wall of rotting flesh for several metres around the boundaries. Whenever they pushed forward, the magic of the keep pushed back, but sooner or later there would not be enough power to hold back the tireless masses...

GLJordan strode out of the keep but stayed within the barrier. He wished once more that he knew how to return home or at least access more of his Goddess' power here. He removed two throwing axes. They blazed with magic fire when he activated them. He threw one at a zombie and then the other at a new target. The axes set fire to their targets and then returned to his hands. "well my brothers", He thought to the trio still safe in the keep, "We might die here but hopefully we will at least make a difference before doing so".

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Kikuyu, thoroughly miffed at being now soaking wet, strode into the clearing towards Sir Ordolar and Sir Walnut. Ozymandias was a golden shimmer in the downpour, bronze and glittery. The orc knight's armor made musical pings as the rain hit it, and Sir Walnut was brushing rain from his purple suit with small tut tuts. "We need to move on!" she yelled. The hissing of the rain smacking a hundred-thousand leaves at once was surprisingly loud, and the wind was thrashing with more frenzy than ever. "If we take too long trying to kill every zombie and ghoul in the forest, we'll never reach Dego!"

 

Beside her Wyvern was performing a remarkable dance as he tried to dodge as many raindrops as possible. Kikuyu wouldn't have been surprised if the Almost-Dragon had pulled some Almost-Dragonic-Collapsible-Umbrella-Sword ™ from his pouch of weaponry.

 

The tiny bubble of light at her throat hissed hotly and the ninja gripped her katana. "Moreover, there was a Kiln following us. The Necromancer knows we're here, Oasis curse him, but there's no helping that now. We just have to find him as quickly as possible and attack him when he least expects it."

Edited by Kikuyu Black Paws
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"that is, unless anyone else has any other ideas?" Jolinar finished earnestly.

 

"I have one," a quiet voice said. The swirl of familiar blue robes slid shards of night into the air of the drawing room. A bronze, weathered face peered out of one of the patches of stars with serious eyes and a deeply creased frown.

 

Ozymandias stepped to the young Dreamer's side, putting a comradely hand on her shoulder. All eyes turned to him expectantly.

 

Stepping forward once more, he raised both arms for quiet.

 

"The Pen is Mightier than the Sword," came his words in a loud, ringing tone.

 

"We all know these words and respect, even revere them." The ancient eyes scanned all of them intently.. "But what do they truly mean?"

 

With that, he drew his sword with a flourish, then slammed the point into the ground. There he left the blade standing, vibrating still, and emitting a low hum from the impact.

 

"That this thing is limited. One only has to look at it to see how finite it is. Can a sord plan a war? Can a sword give orders? Can a sword choose its target? No. Such things are done throuhg words. Through ideas.

 

The sharpest mind will ever be the better weapon than even the sharpest edge, hottest flame, most voracious disease.

 

Words will cut and wound grievously those who fell no pain from the knife.

 

Ideas are where weapons come from. Is it not logical that their source is more formidable than those products ever will be?

 

Is it not true that men fight with weapons, but fight and die for ideals?

 

We are living proof of this.

 

We are followers of an ideal; we are a fertile breeding ground of ideas.

 

We are far more dangerous than this heretic who seeks to destroy us with his mindless violence."

 

Some of those assembled, and many across the Keep's land became aware that they weren't heraing things; there was the tinkling of bells echoing through the castle. And it was growing louder. As well, it seemed the air around the keep seemed to lighten.

 

Every shadow cast in the castle jerked, as if they were caged animals anticipating release.

 

"Let's you and I show him!", Ozymandias roared.

 

"LET'S SCRAPE THIS SCUM OFF OUR HOME."

 

 

Even as every shadow in the keep, from the smallest nook to the highest ceiling, spewed forth wave after wave of shade with all-too human features and silent but undenaible purpose, the sky glowed the brightest emerald green as a tide of creatures rolled forth from the treetops.

 

The looked exactly like minitaure, foot-long mimicrys of dragons that shone like pure jewels in the brightest sunlight- but they were alive, and moved by the thousands in the same direction as the march of shadows.

 

The inhuman force headed as one for the unhallowed one closing on the Mighty Pen keep.

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The Necromancer lurched from his throne, his teeth bared in fury. He could feel his hands trembling with energy, power he had not used and power that needed to be used soon. His anger pulsed through his veins venemously.

 

"You've got a throbbing vein," the muffled voice of his prisoner called out behind him. He turned, eyes blazing. She raised a long, pale finger and pressed it against her own forehead. "Right there."

 

A thin, shuddering laugh that bordered on mania escaped through the Necromancer's lips and he crossed the clearing in a few steps to crouch in front of the box, placing his hands on two sides. "Even when I could crush you," he hissed, "you still have the gall to mock me. Tell me, shifter," -- he spat the word like a curse and, though unoffended, Degorram flinched -- "are you so brave that you do not fear death?"

 

Degorram pressed her own hands against the glass where the Necromancer touched it and leaned forward as much as she could to stare into his pale eyes. "I do not fear you or the death that you offer, Necromancer. I have endured pain beyond your experience. You cannot frighten me."

 

The Necromancer seemed to calm at her words and smiled sadly at her, shaking his head. "Pain beyond experience....do you really believe that?" He laughed and stood up to pace the clearing slowly. "You do not understand the ways of the Necromancer, changeling child. We study as mages, to begin with. Those fools who believe that power from the darkness is a corruption....they only fear what might be possible! They do not know what might be conceived from the black pits of the universe." He paused and clenched a fist in the air, staring at it fervently. "Do you know, changeling, what it feels like to have souls pass through your own?" His voice had dropped to a murmur and he raised his other hand to clasp his fist. "Do you know what unendurable pain can be created when you dabble in the spirit world?" He smiled, his eyes distant. "I was only fifteen when a creature twenty four centuries old gripped the fabric of my soul and proceeded to sift it like sand." He looked back into Degorram's eyes. "Damaged beyond repair, they said. Permanently weakened. For those last thirty four hours as I lay on my supposed death bed I read the chronicles of those who had suffered as I had. And I came upon an interesting little chapter of a man who stole the soul of another man to complete his own shredded copy."

 

Degorram stared, oddly fascinated by the Necromancer's story, and at the same time repelled by his proficiency at monologuing.

 

"It's an easy little proceedure, once you get the hang of it," the Necromancer said. "And once I took my first soul, I had just enough time to keep practicing until I had a veritable collection of souls whisping around inside me." He strolled over to her box again. "There's something poetic," he said, holding a bony hand over the box, "about the screams of the freshly detatched." A thin, silver vapor that shimmered in the moonlight poured from his fingers and floated down like mist to encase the box. Degorram could still see through it and shivered at the calm, subtle smile on the Necromancer's face.

 

A single tendril of the mist, sharper in color and thicker, passed through the front of the box and hovered in front of Degorram's chest. Her heart tightened as she stared at it.

 

The Necromancer crouched and once again stared into her eyes with the ferocious anger he had felt before. "You don't fear death. Now do you fear your soul being ripped from your essence?"

 

Degorram didn't answer. Fear had paralyzed her and she stared up into the grey eyes, ever limb trembling.

 

The Necromancer stood and walked to the center of the clearing. He pressed his fingers to his lips and drew them away, bringing with them a cloud of the silver mist. With a harsh sigh he blew the cloud in front of him where it quivered and grew, taking shape. A terrible popping and cracking filled the air as the shroud of mist roiled, growing taller and taller. Branches of the cloud separated into limbs. With an otherworldy sigh the cloud disappated to reveal a towering creature crafted of skeletons. It cracked it's huge jaw and fixed the Necromancer with a pitiless stare. Its eyes were black pits out of which shined two pinpoints of flame: memoirs of a fiery home.

 

The Necromancer raised an arm and pointed into the forest. "Hinder them," he said coldly. Without a word the monster lumbered into the forest, following the Necromancer's direction. All the way its bones clacked and groaned like dry tree limbs.

 

Hinder.... Degorram thought, breathing heavily in fright. That's a completely different word with a completley different meaning than 'stop'.

 

Raising his face to the night sky, the Necromancer closed his eyes and sent a sharp mental stab towards the Keep. Keep that for your dream world you little peeping tom.....

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Kikuyu ran quickly. It felt good to run. The rain had subsided to a noisy pattering in the canopy of trees above. The moon shone once again, sliding liquidly along wet leaves and stalks of grass.

 

An hour previous the sky had flared green and the ground had shook. Fey magic pulsed through the ground, zipping up into Kikuyu's body and making her yelp. At that instant, everything with life glittered as many shining jewels in greens and golds. Ozymandias, a bright gold king carved from bronze and onyx, smiled as the light sharpened the sky. His eyes, at that moment, had been very far away.

 

Now, reduced back to night and rain, the eerie, far off moans of ghouls made the hairs on Kikuyu's neck tingle. She stared before her with sharp purpose, intense and furious. If she had ever had a breaking point, she was getting very close.

 

The silent movements of her companions were comforting in her ears. Wyvern, swift, his scales hissing against the wet, accompanied every now and then by a quietly muffled curse at the moisture; Sir Walnut, a purple haze that moved in leaps and bounds; Sir Ordlar, moving with surprising speed and stealth for the apparent weight of his armor, murmuring a canto to his diety; and Ozymandias, lithe and silent. Even when she concentrated Kikuyu could not hear a sound from his feet.

 

Suddenly the ninja stopped short. The others paused, faltered behind her as she stared at the ground. She cocked her head to one side.

 

The bushes in front of them exploded upwards. Kikuyu was frozen to the ground in fear as she stared up, up, up...

 

Bones snapped as the lack of cartilage caused joints to grind together. The inhuman, long dead monster soared over seven feet in height, leering down at them with a wide grin of many sets of teeth. At its chest, a tiny ball of green flame burned. Its eyes centered on Kikuyu, and all the ninja could hear was screaming, screaming...

 

Wyvern stumbled up next to Kikuyu and grabbed her arm, breaking the creature's hold on her. The ninja gasped and reeled backwards with the Elder, drawing her katana. Her greatest weapon felt so small in her equally small hand.

 

The creature planted its feet wide, digging up great furrows in the ground with its sharp feet. The leering mouth of its skull seemed to stretch even wider as it spread its arms wide in a ready embrace, like a parent welcoming home its children. Around its shoulders, a dark mantle of shadows blotted out the stars and the magical glimmer that still stained the leaves.

 

The stench of the thing was putrid. As it took a wide step forward, Kikuyu's eyes were drawn to the grasses under its feet. Every green thing was turning grey and brown, falling, dying. The creature reached over its shoulder and grasped something on its back. With a great heave it yanked up and over, pulling a great whip of sharp bones and joints into play: its own spinal column.

 

Kikuyu pulled Dego's necklace from her pocket and looped it around her neck. She then pressed two fingers to the teardrop tattoos under her eyes. "Oasis aid us," she muttered. "We're going to need it." The tattoos flared bright blue and sprouted glowing vines that shot and curled all over the ninja's body, a sparkling tattoo of woadish design that gripped her muscles. "Hey skull-face!" she shrieked. "This is going to be fun!"

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Sir Ordolar marched quietly onward, praying constantly. He felt the presence of great evil, but with so much around him, he could tell little of its direction or nature. Still, he remained on his guard, watching all sides, much as the rest of the group did.

 

He looked up and forward, and saw that Kikuyu and Wyvern had stopped. They were looking somewhat further up. Then he saw it. A mighty skeletal creature towered over them. Thousands of bones connected magically, forming a creature beyond nightmare. The sight of the monstrosity instantly brought Sir Ordolar to towering rage, and he barely heard Kikuyu's shout. Drawing his massive sword, Sir Ordolar shouted, "Aasharam! For Justice!". He broke into a lumbering charge, crashing through the undergrowth and bringing his immense strength to bear. What must have been the leg bone of an elephant swung down at him, but he cut right through it with a single blow! The creature turned to face him, swinging several limbs at him, and the mighty orc was thrown backwards. He scrambled to his feet, and threw all his might into blow after crushing blow, but still he could not strike hard enough to destroy the foul creature, and as it walked over the shattered bones, the shards added themselves once more to the abomination. It was plain that the enraged orc could not win this battle, and eventually his armour would fail... but the distracted monster could not protect itself from attacks from behind. As it beat its fury against his shield, others prepared to strike.

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Ozymandias braced his sword in both hands and charged forward, zig-zagging as he went, barely sidestepping crackling strikes from the monster aimed directly at the top of his skull.

 

Thirty yards, twenty, fifteen..he drew within the last ten yards of the thing, still dodging, still ready, and uttered only one word.

 

"wqnxw."

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Kikuyu gasped-- the sparkling tattoos sprouting from the teardrops on her cheekbones clutched her muscles, pumping fey power into her body. All of her exhaustion and pain from the previous few hours disappeared and she felt gripped by an inhuman power, a power she liked. Kikuyu gripped her katana tightly in one hand and dug her other hand into a pouch on her belt. She charged the monster, dodging flying pieces of bone from Sir Ordlar's frantic attack.

 

Kikuyu flew around the orcish knight, jumping off of the last flying piece of bone to gain momentum. The monster's face appeared in her line of sight and the ninja withdrew her hand from the pouch, throwing the contents with all of her might in the creatures face. She backpedaled frantically, turning over herself to land on her feet.

 

The creature gave a whooping shriek as explosives charred and melted the bone of its skull. Its burning eyes turned bloody and the spinal cord it wielded slammed into the ground. Every member of the search party was lifted off the ground as the earth heaved. The point of contact split apart, shards of rock splintering upwards with a scream that tore trees from roots.

 

Kikuyu landed hard on her feet, the jolt of her descent sharp in her ankles. The ninja reached into another pocket, mind ticking frantically. Sir Ordlar was still at it, his blade shearing off as much bone as the monster was regrowing, tenaciously fending off the giant whip, being tumbled backwards only to charge forward again. Kikuyu did not see where Sir Walnut or Wyvern had gone; her eyes were fixed on the skeleton.

 

"Bakemono!" she snarled. Sheathing her katana, she plunged both hands into two parallel pockets and flung a series of kunai and throwing stars at the creature with a fierce whistling noise. The monster turned its head at the last moment as the small, sharp weapons embedded themselves into bone. One of the stars hit the creature in the eye.

 

Kikuyu was already running at the monster again, katana and shoto in hand. The ninja gripped her katana close to the hilt, slipping the katana's blade into a brace on her wrist that allowed her to carry it one handed.

 

Yet again Sir Ordlar provided a flying piece of debris for the ninja to leap from. It propelled her high into the air, above the skeleton's head. It turned its red gaze, one of its eyes a sickly green color, to follow her ascent, hate written across its charred, melted skull. Kikuyu raised her katana overhead, her shoto guarding her beneath. She opened her mouth in a snarl, blade whistling down.

 

It was then that Ozymandias said his word. "wqnxw."

Edited by Kikuyu Black Paws
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Minta jumped up, stomped both feet down on the ground when she landed. Another fragment of zombified flesh squelched under her shoes, squirting out at the arches and toes, but it still didn't stop moving! She stomped one foot angrily and wheeled around to investigate her barricade. Already what had once been a neat gnomie-high pile had slithered down to a pancake of undead bits on the forest floor, and even now the furthest margins of it were the pieces with the most reanimation, wriggling further away. The gnomie waded into the mess, picking up the larger partial skellies and tossing them back to the center, to no effect. She only stopped when she spied a pelvic girdle and hind legs which were squirming far faster than the hunk of zombie flesh pinning them down, reached for it, and got burnt by her own potion. "Ow!" she squealed, and flung it end-over-end into the forest, where it tangled in a bramble. "Skelliebadger's all broken an' there's nothin' left worth zombifyin'. . ." she sulked, and stomped out of the clearing, making sure no step missed squishing a bit of undead.

 

*****

 

"--assurance--" blurted Tzimfemme, as she stepped from the branches of the elm tree into an adjacent and ancient walnut, and grasped higher-up branches for support. "Bipedal--"

 

There was nobody there to hear, and nobody Tzimfemme wished to talk to, but words still jerked out from between her lips when the internal debate got too heated. Thus, when she grasped at the branch of a sycamore and the seed pods pricked her palm, "sovereign"; "soul--" and sheared off bark with her foot as her weight shifted onto it; "--consent. Nothingness--No--" in between impacting several branches on her way down; after snatching her breath back from the forest floor and before the bruise from shoulder to knee was more than merely numb, "Dog"; and, when the thousand shadows of the leaves spat forth fractals of shades as she pushed herself up to recline on her uninjured side, "damned black mages".

 

*****

 

Minta looked up as the sky flashed green, and then took a deep gnomie breath and expelled a mighty gnomie sneeze. "Achooo!--Wow, that's LOTSA sparklydragons!" She fell into a fit of giggles, and less strong sneezes, as shed faerie dragon scales rained down from the mass flight. When she finally stopped watching them and resumed her skittering run back to the Pen Keep, she was glittery from head to foot and laying down a sparkly trail. The sparkles showered down and placed a brighter spark on the ground when Minta skidded to a halt just outside of the ring of focused undead, now beginning to pile up on itself and form the base of a hemisphere. "Ohhh, so _that's_ how you gotta get them to stay put!" exclaimed the gnomie, "gotta get them to focus onna point. But nono." She tugged a cherry pixystix out of her pocket and slurped it down while thinking. "Then they'd all fall down ON the point." The crumpled-up wrapper bounced off of the sole of a crowd-surfing zombie's foot, without effect. "An' they're not turnin' aside. . .um. . .um. . ." Minta jittered on the spot with various thoughts, but despite that stint in Cftm!, she hadn't grasped the concepts of 'arch' or 'dome'. In the end, she dropped tryin' to work it out with her brain and picked out one slack-jawed ghoul at ground level with plenty of ichor still sloshing around in its veins. Instantly that ichor ran as hot as lava as Minta whispered one of her funnest spells, but while the ghoul's flesh liquefied and ran downhill towards the gnomie, the hot jelly fought against gravity, and by the time it had halted the decline and begun to climb back towards the barrier, the circle of undead had merely drawn in a bit to close the gap. Minta scowled, then brightened with an idea, and looked through her bigger pockets for her collapsible ooze surfboard.

 

On the inward side of the circle, defenders and undead-slayers alike boggled as the gnomie crested the backs of the invaders, surfing in slow motion as the ghoul jelly slapped against the magical barriers and recoiled and slapped again. Minta waved hihihihihi!

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Blackjack nudged at Sora, who had fallen asleep at her desk.

"whuza?" Sora said, sitting up suddenly. She had just been dreaming that her geometry teacher had been poking her with a knife. "we gota trim yer claws soon. so wassup?"

"I'm smelling zombies," Blackjack informed her.

"The entire keep seems in an uproar," Xiao informed her. "I sent Jackie to find out what it is."

Jackie suddenly came hurtling up the stairs. "Zombies are comin'!" She quickly outlined what was happening. Sora shoved herself off the desk and went flying across the room to land in front of the closet. She changed into her battel outfit, grabbed her staff of many weapons, and a bag.

"C'mon, guys!" She guzzled down the leftover root beer in her bottle and ran out the door next to the bookshelves. Once out in midair, a wind caught her and all of her pets, taking them to in front of the keep.

"Something this big, sure we don't need to transform?" Yue asked.

"Fine. Xiao, Jackie, Blackjack, you three only. This is gonna be a long fight, and we're gonna need reserves," Sora answered, glancing at the zombies which were coming in sight. Xiao slowly turned into a white lion-like cat at least ten feet high. Jackie became a silver wolf the same height and Blackjack became a cross between a wolf and a tiger, with a black wolf's body and a tiger's head and silver stripes. The three of them took off towards the zombies, and started tearing with claws and teeth.

"Kikuyu, hurry up and rescue your sister. We'll hold them off in the meantime," Sora thought as she awakened the power deep inside her. A power that she had not needed in a long time. Huge grey wings tore from her back and her eyes turned silver with slitted blue pupils. She took off for the sky, reaching into her bag for holy water bombs. As she launched the first one at the zombies, she smiled despite the danger. It had been a long time since she had had a good workout.

 

OOC: no idea when I'll be able to post next, but we'll be working at keeping the minions of evil out of the keep. if some get inside so others can post about killing them, fine by me.

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Wyvern slowly opened his eyes with a groan, his ears ringing and his scales tensing at the wet sensation of dripping mud. The overgrown lizard lifted his head in a daze, trying to recall what had happened as he reached for his sack of items and began sorting through it in search of an Almost Dragonic Brand Hearing (Band)Aid™. Coming up short, Wyvern swayed to his feet and raised a claw to his aching snout before glancing around and getting his bearings. The drops of rain falling rapidly from the sky made the lizard remember that he was searching for an important item prior to the ground erupting, and that he was following/hiding behind Kikuyu before the quake happened. The reptilian Elder dug a claw into his item sack again and began doing another almost dragonic rain dance as he made his way out of the bushes where he'd landed. He squinted through the rain for Kikuyu or even that orc guy who thought he was a paladin, frowning until his claw reached a familiar shape in his bag.

 

"Ahha! Found it!" Wyvern triumphantly pulled an Almost Dragonic Brand Collapsible Umbrella Sword™ from his sack and held it over his head,, his expression suddenly changing to a brighter one. "Hey Kikuyu, I found a-aaaaAAAAAAAUUUUGGGGGGHHH!"

 

Wyvern slipped and fell headfirst down the incline adjacent to where he'd fallen, stumbling horns over tail and rolling forward at a dangerous speed. The overgrown lizard bounced into the air for a moment, only to have his Umbrella Sword start acting like an unstable parachute. He hissed a sigh of relief, then turned and noticed the monstrosity that the rest of the party was battling, which he seemed to be floating towards at a frightening speed.

 

"Kikuyu?! Sir Walnutty?!?! Halllllpppppp!"

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Ozymandias dropped into a crouch as he came nose to shin with the thing, and leaped. Jamming his sword's hilt into his teeh teeth in midair, he landed on the monster's upper leg and shimmied up it like a tree trunk.

 

Crouching on all fours on it's pelvis, he launched himself into the air again, sword sheathed this time. The thing lurched violently, and he narrowly grabbed hold of its' lowest rib before falling to certain demise underneath a splintered foot wider than his body..

 

 

With KIkuyu sailing toward it, Ordolar chopping away like a demented woodcutter, and Ozymandias swinging from it, the skeletons thing was going mad with rage.

 

It aimed a savage whip strike at its' airborne opponent even as it went to tear the crawling nuisance from its torso.

 

Ordolar seemed forgotten for the moment.

 

 

The flying Wyvern careening toward it's head seemed as yet unnoticed...

Edited by Ozymandias
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With the monster no longer focusing its attention upon Sir Ordolar, the orc knight only grew more angry, if such a thing is possible. Massive blows which would have felled a tree were unleashed, but removing limbs meant little to such a creature. The light from his blade seemed to annoy the thing more than the blows he dealt, and through the thick fog of anger, Sir Ordolar realized he achieved little. Changing tactics, he stopped slashing and stabbed the huge sword deep into the thing. Suddenly, the skeletal foe shrieked, and lurched to one side, almost pulling the sword from the orc's grasp. Wrenching the blade back, Sir Ordolar saw through the hole - amidst the bones - a skull with fiery eyes, which his strike had scratched. With his rage clearing, some measure of the orc's reason returned. He shouted, "The skull with fiery eyes! Destroy it!", then stabbed again.

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Kikuyu's head whipped around at Wyvern's yelp and she gasped, momentarily forgetting that she was flying through the air in mid-attack towards the skeleton. Time slowed: Wyvern's steady descent turned to a slow trickle; the skeleton's gaze traveled towards the Elder with a long pause between each reaction-- hate, surprise, and a terrible glee that flickered from the glittering eyes.

 

Kikuyu did not think. She transfered her shoto to the fingers of her other hand, allowing the wrist brace to keep her katana steady. With her free hand the ninja reached into her belt and drew out a slip of paper. Pushing it in the direction opposite Wyvern, Kikuyu closed her eyes. "Ha!"

 

The explosion sent the ninja shooting through the air like a rocket. She smashed into Wyvern, propelling him and herself into the ground several meters away from the skeleton.

 

Wyvern wheezed, winded from the ninja's fall on his ribs. "Look, Kikuyu, I know you have feelings for me, but now's not the time..." he tried to push Kikuyu off of him. "Eh?"

 

Kikuyu's eyes were closed. Her face and arms were scorched with soot from the explosion and her weapons were lying on the ground nearby. Kikuyu never, never dropped her katana.

 

Sir Ordlar's sudden scream cut through the air. "The skull with the fiery eyes! Destroy it!"

 

Kikuyu groaned and twitched, sitting up slowly. "In the list of things never to repeat," she muttered. "That's number one." She barked with surprise as she realized she wasn't holding her weapons. She snatched them from the ground and got to her feet, wiping her forehead and smearing blood from a small cut across her skin. She glanced at Wyvern beside her. "Where'd that umbrella go?" she said with a wry grin.

 

Not waiting for an answer, Kikuyu sheathed her shoto and katana. Blades did not appear to be affecting the regrowing bones. The skull's face leered down at the darting knight, melted and charred from the previous...

 

Explosion! Kikuyu stuffed both of her hands into a larger sack at her back. "Wyvern, guard my back for a second!"

 

The ninja pulled a sticky grey glob of clay from the pouch. Quickly she molded it into a square. Her other hand yanked out a second glob, then a third, a fourth, until she had ten large squares of thick clay strung together by sharp wire.

 

Kikuyu charged forward. Ozymandias was still clinging to the skeleton for all he was worth. "Ozy!" she yelled. "Try to get this around its neck!" With all of her might Kikuyu flung the string of explosive clay at the Elder, slamming her hands together in the proper sign. Please let this work!

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Stabbing repeatedly, Sir Ordolar's efforts were rewarded. He cried out in triumph as he struck through three ribcages and into the skull, which crumbled to ashes. The vile creature let out a soul-rending shriek, and everyone was forced to cover their ears. Sir Ordolar, however, had a helmet in the way, and so he soon fell unconscious under the torment of that sound. Soon after he clattered to the ground, the shriek stopped, and the monster was moving again. The watching group saw another skull's eyes burst into flames. This battle would not so easily be won... The monster stepped onto Sir Ordolar's protesting armour, and from the sound, it might not stand up to the huge weight for long...

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Under the force of Sir Ordolar's attack the craeture lurched so violently Ozymandias swung like a pendulum. As it settled onto the prone form of the orc, Kikuyu cried out her plan to a still grimly dangling Loremaster.

 

His eyes refocused on the hurtling line, and with one mighty swing, kicked the clay weapon with both heels solidly enough to send it looping once around the thing's massive neck.

 

It landed loosely, but stuck fast on the stained white spurs of bone.

 

Ozymandias meanwhile swung backward and dropped his right hand to his sword once more. With a flash, it was out and being driven inbtween the ribs above his head. So secured, he began climbing the inside of the creature's ribcage, his face lit up in nightmare by the swirling light therein.

 

He saw the ninja's brief start at this manuever and shouted back to her, "Don't worry about me!! Just do it!"

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Kikuyu twisted her hands, drawing out intricate symbols. Ignoring the Loremaster's uncomfortable proximity to her explosives, the ninja slammed both hands into the ground. He knows what he's doing, she thought grimly.

 

Kikuyu glanced back up at the flailing skeleton, Ozymandias still clinging and climbing higher resolutely. His face and chest were eerily lit by the glowing fires of the creature's collage of souls. Sir Ordolar's armor groaned under the pressure of the monster's foot. A tiny crack could be seen forming on the breastplate. It was now or never.

 

Standing back up, Kikuyu slid her feet apart for better balance. One hand she thrust out in front of her, palm up. The other she drew back, as if drawing a bow. She narrowed her eyes and sweat began to drip down the side of her face. Her hand, inching backwards, began to shake.

 

Ozymandias' shout tore the clearing again. "Just do it!"

 

With a scream as her muscles shrieked at the pressure, Kikuyu's arm shot forward, parallel to her other hand, palm down. Light burst from her fingers, reflecting in her wide open eyes.

 

A tiny shiver ran across the grass. Suddenly the necklace of clay around the skeleton's head erupted.

 

The explosion boiled above the treeline, a huge cloud of red fire and black smoke. The ground shook and the skeleton, as well as Ozymandias and Sir Ordolar, were consumed in a great black cloud. A second explosion rocked the clearing, knocking Kikuyu back against a tree. Kikuyu felt blood running down her face from a cut on her forehead, but she didn't register the pain. "OZY!" she screamed. "Ordolar!" The cloud boiled without response.

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