Been away for too long...

[The Portrait of Zool]

In the shadows above the fireplace the tall portrait's painted eyes moved to look toward the bar, then blinked. He surveyed the newly returned Dreamer for a moment before slowly turning his visage to face him. The illusion was complete, showing correct two dimensional perspective no matter where in the room one was standing to look at him.

 

The painted face formed into a cold ironic smile, and spoke. "Promises? Heh. Promises are never in short supply, and thus are generally worthless. If you mean fulfilling the promise of a stories beginning, that would be sad indeed, for your story has been long in telling here at the Pen, and I feel there is still plenty of 'promise' to go."

 

Then the portrait gave a wink, and smiled broadly, which had the effect of lighting the picture up considerably. "Zadown!" he said, with genuine warmth in his face and his voice. "How are ye man?! It is good to see you. Barkeep, put that Archangel blood on my tab."

 

Zool reached his hand over to the edge of his portrait, so that it appeared to go behind the ornate gilt frame, and when he drew his hand back into the picture it held a huge frosty crystal stein filled with a dark ruby beer, a frothy head just spilling over the top. He held it up in salute, addressing the room. "To the return of the Dreamer. May he stay a while, and find some respite from his troubles in our halls and in our company!"

 

After the cheers and other toasts have died down he drinks deeply, draining half of the massive stein in one long drink.

 

"So what has been happening?" repeats Zool of Zadown's question. "Ah, there are several good stories running now, I'm sure you will see them. Our membership has grown a bit, we are gaining respect as a place to bring a quill and share a story or two. I myself have been fairly preoocupied, but I am hoping to do a thing or two... We shall see." And with that Zool gave another wink, and lifting the stein to his lips took another drink.

 

~Zool~

Ancient, The Pen is Mightier than the Sword.

Bard of Terra, Patron Saint of Aspiring Bards.

Elder than dirt, more foolish than a jester, able to trip over the smallest logic in a single step. It's... Oh, you know.

[The Portrait of Zool]

Then Zool took on a thoughtful look, and said, "There has been much joy here at the Pen, and lately, tragedy." Looking again at the Dreamer he said solemnly, "I hope your travails have been less... final."

[Wyvern]

As the excited portrait of Zool continues chatting away fervently, a solitary lizard man dressed in a cloak slinks into the bar by means of the main entrance and eyes the Dreamer sinisterly from afar. Reaching into his robes for an object he's searching for, the reptilian humanoid slowly creeps towards the Dreamer's seat, carefully using his salamander-like stealth to avoid making any sounds or sudden gestures that could make him visible... Never the less, no sooner has he gotten 3 feet away from the targetted chair then the Dreamer swiftly jumps up and turns around, immediatly grabbing the lizard man's throat with his right hand and clamping down on it hard.

 

"I could make this long and painfull, but let's just cut to the chase..." growls the Dreamer, lifting the mysterious lizard man off the ground by his neck "Who are you, and why were you sneaking up on me like that?"

 

The portrait of Zool practicaly spills his watercolor booze as he notices the unidentifiable lizard man the Dreamer is now holding in the air by the throat...

 

"I..." starts the lizard man, struggling for breath "I am an emissary of Elder Wyvern *ack* and bring you a list he compiled of changes that have occured which you might be affected by *gasp* Here..."

 

With that, the lizard man pulls his hand out his robe and reveals the object he was reaching for: a short and messily written parchment. The Dreamer smirks as he recognises the horrible calligraphy on the scroll as Wyvern's, and begins reading off a few of the changes listed out loud while still holding the lizard man emissary tightly by the throat:

 

"Hmmmm... According to this parchment, there is now a 15 geld fee every time one wants to planeswalk and a 20 geld fee for each of the runes on my astral door... Let me guess, your master Wyvern made up this parchment in order to shamelessly make geld, correct?"

 

The lizard man emissary gulps and hesitates for a moment, remembering his master Wyvern telling him that under no circumstance should he reveal that the parchment is actually a fraud list of changes, and that it's actually all part of another of his typically "brilliant" schemes... But one look into the scarred and seemingly omnipotent visage of the Dreamer and all the poor lizard man can do is nod feebily while wetting himself...

 

Smiling to himself, the Dreamer decides to let go of the emissary, not wanting to spoil the pleasant taste of his booze with reptilian gangrene. The lizard man nervously bows several times, then quickly scurries away...

 

Smiling slightly once again, the Dreamer takes a light sip of his booze... Wyvern was still at his hairbrained schemes, so it seemed that some things in the Pen never changed...

 

;p

 

OOC: Great to have you back with us again, Zadown.

 

------------------------------

Almost a Dragon...

"My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense"

Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

[reverie]

Seated towards the end of the bar, a mage clad in dark blue cloak, sips casually on mug of warm cider... Softly tapping one well-oiled boot to a beat no one else hears, he puts the mug aside and starts to build small towers from multi-colored discs. Stacking the small round chips this way and that, occasional glimpses of half faded inscriptions appear:

 

"Archmage Anonymous"

"Rambler's Anonymous"

"Wisher's Anonymous"

"Pill Popper's Anonymous"

"Power Puff Anonymous"

"Buffy Anonymous"

"Guilder's Anonymous"

"Anger management and the new you"

"Support group for an insomniac’s who live in a dreamworld"

"Support group for a dreamer's with insomnia"

"Support group for counselor’s of support groups

"Support group for writer's block: when muses leave"

"Friends don't let friends write under the influence"

"Friends don't let friends mage drunk"

"Friends don't let friends steal state secrets"

"Friends don't let friends drink blood wine, ale, mead, beer, shots, shooters, rubbing alcohol or anything else he's allergic too, and should not be doing since he knows better."

"Hugs not drugs"

"Why not hugs and drugs?"

"Hugger’s Anonymous"

 

Engrossed in his task he barely noticed the entrance of the ancient dreamer, now standing at the bar... However, upon hearing the bard's hail to all in the cabaret room, Revery snaps awake. His hands clumsily toppling over his tower's of support to the dark and foreboding floor below...

 

Considering for a moment revery looks down. Then sighing, the dreamlost says softly, "I think those are best left there for now, there's no telling what sort of enchantments have been set down there, and light only knows what terrible creatures lurk down there, below the stools..."

 

Casting the Bard a look, he hastily scribbles a response to the long absent one's query. Walking up to the old one, revery hands him the note, then walks quickly away back towards the end of the bar and out of harms way.

 

To Zadown:

 

Lots

 

yours,

 

revery

the dreamlost

"an animal mind cannot deal with being a plant" (gryfalcon)

the dream continues...

[Zadown]

In a far corner of the Pen Keep, a dusty door resides. It used to be nearer the center of things, on the wall of the corridoors everybody used, but as weeks and then more weeks passed, it ... drifted, one might say. Below the dust a sharp eye might see the runes, dim and still, dead and silent; runes of warding and protection, of warning and shielding.

 

It used to be an important door. Now it looks like a way to some forgotten storage room... and now, the runes carving themselves again with faint fire, the dust burning off, it wakes again. A loud cough right inside the door shakes the rest of the dust off, and the door opens slowly, with an omnious creak.

 

Through steps a man, age vague, skin marked with hideous scars criss-crossing everywhere, eyes flickering with a rainbow of different colors. Even though it is still impossible to tell how old he is, he looks a lot more tired, more ravaged by age than the last time he walked through these halls. His shoulders are hunched as if some heavy weight was on them and the eyes cycle through the more sombre colors of palette.

 

The Dreamer looks around not seeing much and walks to the bar, focused on some deep musing of his own, ignoring everybody he meets on the way. Once he gets the glass of archangel blood he orders, he rises it saluting the whole room with it and only then a part of him seems to really be here and now, seeing and sensing what is around him.

 

"Hail and well met, strangers and old aquintances alike. I offer a toast to the Pen and my regrets that I haven't been able to spend time here. Other matters have had my undivided attention..."

 

The Dreamer's voice fades and around him appear ghostly visions: a high elf elementalist conjuring forth a fire elemental to battle a huge kodiak, a dark elf priestess turning undead warriors in a dark dungeon, a huge bipedal cat running over grass at the speed of wind .. the visions flicker and fade.

 

"... I do try to restore my place here, if possible, but I can make no promises. So, tell me what has passed since I've been away?"

 

An uncharateristic warmth appears in his voice and manners and he turns his attention to the others present.

[Zadown]

True to his habit of chaotic emotions, after the Dreamer reads the note his eyes flicker and fade out to deepest black. He crushes the note and annihilates it with a spell at the same time, making the bar tremble slightly from the echoing BOOM of the explosion. He blows the fine dust off his right hand, frowning, almost sneering, and looks again somewhere beyond this room.

 

Below revery's table, the discs slide to new position, making a slight whispery sound. They form a series of runes, a prophecy that tells the future of the whole nearby Void and all the worlds in it...

 

The Dreamer makes another small motion, similiar to the one that triggered his first spell of destruction. Somewhere already very far away, a frightened lizardman jumps five feet into air as the note he is carrying detonates, causing minor burns and momentary deafness but no permanent damage.

 

The colorful discs whisper across the floor again, telling the tale of Wyvern's next moneymaking scheme in astonishing detail, from the suprising and ambitious start to the usual embarassing defeat ...

 

Tasting the feel of his old magicks, the Dreamer stands in the middle of the bar and starts to repair the damaged tapestry of his threads of power, adding his servants and castles to himself with invisible bonds. With rising anger, he notices many of the links are gone, lost to either rebellious servants or the unrelenting hand of the Law, and deep within him a new fire is kindled. Fiery embers of red appear in the deep pits of his eyes and the power of the Godslayer flows through the Pen Keep, telling everybody that the planewalker is back: thoughts materialize to form flickering visions next to writers, memories manifest in real sounds and smells, spells and enchantments swirl and waver and go awry as the storm of power passes them.

 

Finally at the bar the surge of raw mana roars around the planewalker as a visible gale, bathing him in an otherworldly glamour ... until he absorbs it and devours it, sagging slightly to look like merely an ageless scarred man in old dirty robes. He sighs deeply and glances at the painting of Zool with pale grey eyes.

 

"I guess I'm back, then. Even if that means fighting the storm instead of letting it blow past me..."

 

With that last cryptic comment, he lowers his eyes and wanders off to find his door's new location, his feet crunching on the scattered colorful discs.

[The Portrait of Zool]

Zool observed the growing mana storm and felt the wall he is mounted on shudder at the forces whirling into the room, funneling into the Dreamer. He felt the snapping connections light one by one in rapid succession along the ley lines woven by the god slayers ancient magicks, and something else...

 

Though trapped in a dimensional twilight, this also gave Zool a sensitivity to certain underlaying forces that are ordinarily too subtle to be detected. These are the basic forces that underlay the very existance of space and time, from which three dimensionality springs, which has always been the source of Zool's magic while trapped in his portrait. Right now, with the return of the Dreamer, Zool was feeling some very odd currents.

 

As the whirling forces met their draw and were consumed Zool felt something else he hadn't felt in a while. The rubber chicken stirred from his resting place in his black leather jacket and slowly peeked around his lapel down to the room below and the maelstrom of forces.

 

Yes, rubber chicken felt it too. As the Dreamer stalked out, Zool looked around at the many eyes in the room, of those who had spoken and those who had not, and he smiled. All those forces now collected, with the addition of the Dreamers presence and his restored tapestry of power, was forming into an alchemy the likes of which Zool had not seen in a long time.

 

 

He did not know what was coming, but he felt the storm too. He felt it bearing down on the Pen like a speeding freight train - and they were all standing right on the tracks.

 

 

~Zool~

Ancient, The Pen is Mightier than the Sword.

Bard of Terra, Patron Saint of Aspiring Bards.

Elder than dirt, more foolish than a jester, able to trip over the smallest logic in a single step. It's... Oh, you know.

[Yui-chan]

The Dreamer rounded the last corner, feeling the thread of energy tugging him towards the door to his haven. His ever-changing eyes scanned the hallway, only commanding a tiny fraction of his attention as his mind sped along the streamers of mystic energy that connected him to his minions, but it was enough for him to stop, his frown deepening, as he noticed the diminuitive figure silhouetted against the fire-light of the glowing runes.

 

A few yards away, Yui watched the Dreamer approach with a mixture of excitement, anticipation, and dread. Here was a creature of such mysterious nature that not a one of them could hope to understand it, and a creature of such awesome power that not a one of them could hope to combat it. His return was not only that of a valued member of the Pen, but also that of a potentially-deadly threat. That sort of thing always did worry her.

 

After a short pause, the scarred creature continued his slow walk towards her, his face frozen in a worryful scowl. Temae Yui, for whatever reasons, stood between himself and his door...

 

(( Okaerinasai, Zadown- sama. Regardless of Yui's protective nature, I hope you know that we all welcome you back happily. I share others' wishes that you will find yourself able to stay and rejoin in the storytelling. You've many more people to meet, now, and that many more characters with whom you can interact. Welcome back! ))

[reverie]

***hmm can't seem to get italics to work... will keep trying...

hmm, well i'm stumped... anyway all the internal dialogue should be italized, i just can't figure out how...

 

Back inside the Cabaret Room, the dreamlost stares off blankly towards the path the old one used to make his exit. Having always been slightly out of focus with reality, the full import of all that had occurred still had not fully penetrated the clouded mind of Revery. Slowly as the tangled wisps start to fade, the dreamlost reclaims himself enough to remember his scattered discs strewn all about the tavern floor. Forgetting his own warning about the perils of the ever sickening floor, Revery leans down to recover his Rambler's Anonymous chip, resting as luck would have it by one of his brilliantly gleaming boots... His eye's glazing over in awe of the quiet beauty of dimly lit candle flames dancing across the deep pool of shimmering black, the dreamlost once again withdraws into himself:

 

...shiny dancers before my eyes...

stretched out you waver, when wind blows by...

 

"So i guess he was one of the old ones huh," a voice deep inside Revery mused?

 

"Well you're not so young yourself you know," the dreamlost reflected back on himself...

 

"Bah, who's talking here; Castle, Castle? is that you...," wondered the voice...

 

"of course not silly, castle died over a thousand years ago when you left terra...,"the dreamlost replied internally smirking...

 

A somewhat furlong expression of recognition forms on revery's brown and nodding he replies, [/i]"oh yes, i see... so who was that old one again?"[/i]

 

"The dreamer...," the other voice replied matter of factly...

 

Perking up a little, "oh dream!, Oh it's been too long...my how he has changed, and i must say the years have not been to kindly to him..."

 

"No, No, No..." the dreamlost voice came back... "Not dream, or a dream, or daydream, or ever dreamweaver, but The Dream or the Dreamer as his prefers to be called, if allowed to be called of course..."

 

Revery lazily yawns back "i have absolutely no idea what your talking about... who are you again?

 

In a somewhat pleading matter, "rev, rev... try to focus here, you could have got yourself killed with that little stunt..."

 

Given his head a mental toss, "humph, killed, as if would be that easy... Those who share their light with the intangibles are rarely so easily extinguished... Besides he asked, i answered, and how was i to know, he didn't have a sense of humor...

 

In condensing manner the persistent conscience remark, "oh i don't know, the hideous scars, the multifaceted swirl of his eyes, or the ungodly bad-ass don't @##$ with me aura that seeped from every pore of his body, weren't enough of a hint, 'Ae there rev???"

 

Dismissively he says, "Oh, I've fought between the planes a time or two, and come to think of it i must predate, a good number if not all the original bards of old terra." Then smiling Revery continued, "I’m sure it would have been a fun to luck horns with that one... it be light old times fighting those crazy wizards and whatnot"

 

Sighing, the saner voice replied, "true in part, but as long lived as you have proven yourself to be in the past, you have rarely commented yourself to the trails needed to raise to such levels power. Always preferring instead to live at the fringe of dreams and unreality, lost in your studies of the flippant, trivial, and insane magic’s of ages past." Then as an after thought, "And rev i hate to break it to you, but those wizard ripped apart and destroyed everything you loved in terra; the only reason you survived any of it, was because you buffed them into thinking you were much more powerful than you really were..."

 

Shrugging slightly to cover a smallest hint of his hurt pride, Revery, replies "ya know you’re usually not this direct, who are you again?"

 

"Well you're usually, not this arrogant or stupid..." the voice said smugly... "And it never ceases to amaze me how you thrived so in the blitz realms where hate and rage reigned supreme," it added..

 

...

 

The barkeep of the Cabaret room regarded Reverie with a long thoughtful look...

"hmm, he hasn't moved or blinked in about 6 hours now..."

Walking over to give the dreamlost a more thorough look, he concluded, "Why I don't even think he's breathing, I'd say that zadown fellow must given him a terrible spell of magic to leave him in that state." Sighing, "well can't say he didn't deserve it; a fool thing to do, taunting a plane-walker like that..."

 

Smiling the Portrait of Zool laughed, "oh don't worry about Revery, he'll be fine just as soon as the polish ware's off that boot of his..."

 

"Well, i just thought he was looking a little, well a little... um, dead as the case may be..." the barkeep said slightly cocerned.

 

Still smiling zool continue, "oh no really, he's fine, happens all the time... Just close off that area if it disturbs you so much, he'll come around after a while... Well eventually..."

 

O.O.C… Hi, I’m not terriblely good at this sort of thing… I struggle with writing in my own character let alone interacting with others… so I’ve written myself a tidy little out, unless someone can think of something better…

 

...hmm can't seem to get italics to work... will keep trying...

hmm, well i'm stumped...

 

revery

the dreamlost

[Zadown]

The scowl melts and a devilish grin lights the Dreamer's face up - the transformation is not altogether pleasant, and somehow the planewalker looks even more menancing, as if happy about some misfortune or doom. His eyes adopt a brilliant shiny yellow hue, burning with gleeful malice, and he nods slightly to Yui as a baron would greet his knights. His voice, very polite, very mocking, is clear and deep:

 

"The Huntress."

 

Yui does a slight bow in response, as one would bow to her equal, and replies (managing to keep her steady despite her conflicting emotions):

 

"The Dreamer."

 

Laughter dances in the planewalker's eyes as he continues, obviously deeply amused by something. Even laughing he relaxes into a wary stance giving out the impression of something that considers itself superior but still does not wish to underestimate any threat.

 

"Well met, shadow-walker .. you have something to discuss with me or you standing on my way to my fortress? Surely confronting me like this would be foolish move from Law - even they would have trouble infusing your soul with enough power."

 

The Dreamer tilts his head slightly to one side and waits for an explanation.

[Justin Silverblade]

A thought of old,

And a thought of new,

The strength of the many,

The passion of two.

 

The mortal man, would have marveled at the ongoing occurences at the Pen. To meet the famed, and powerful, the Dreamer, would have kept the people like Justin Silverblade awake for months, and awestruck for years. Indeed, what just occured in the Cabaret Room of the Pen, and still continued in the many hallways, would have contented Silverblade for the rest of his adventuring life.

 

But he had more important things on his agenda on those fateful moments. He wasn't finished his supper.

 

Food is the way to man's heart, they say. It turns out, in this instance, it is also the way to keeping his attention.

 

 

 

(OCC - Zadown, good to see you again, it's been a great while. I didn't want to step in on your thing with Yui, but wanted to say hi. Safe travels!)

 

- Justin

aka Tek Chaos

[Yui-chan]

Madness images from a long-ago confrontation with the planeswalker flashed in the Huntress' mind's eye, visions of tall metallic buildings rising from a sea of swirling colors and jutting spikes of iron adorned with tortured undead. The decayed, desolate scene once shook her, but since then, she has found the thread of hope and stability within the memories of the Dreamer's mindscape.

 

Trust in that, and watch carefully enough to be on hand when the stability is threatened. Yui nodded to herself slightly, reaffirming her resolve with regards to the resident demi-god. Dangerous is not evil, and this creature has proven in the past his good will.

 

After a heartbeat, the young woman granted the planeswalker a polite but genuine smile. "I hope I will not disappoint you if I answer your question with 'Neither.' In truth, I am here for a very mundane purpose: to welcome you back."

 

With that, the young human sunk into a deep bow from the waist, her hands steepled in the center of her chest. " Okaerinasai, Durimaru-san. Isashiburi desu nee?*" As she straightened, the wavering red glow from the runes in the door beside her turned her eyes to flowing blood, and the planeswalker felt the strangest tinge of foreboding.

 

"You have been away too long, if you come back so suspicious of a simple friend. It's not as if I could harm you without the power of a god, after all, and that's not a very simple thing to come by, neh?" Yui smirked slightly, reaching up to tuck a few errant strands of hair back behind her ear."I hope your stay here will allow you to relax."

 

Inclining her head towards the door, the Huntress stepped to the side, leaving the way clear for the planeswalker.

 

((* "Welcome back, Dreamer. It's been a while."))

[Yui-chan]

The Dreamer had disappeared through his door, the magical portal swinging shut with a hollow sound, before the Huntress moved. With a slight shake of her head, she turned to walk away down the hall, and her face slipped into an amused smile. Moments later, her mumbled words came echoing back to the glowing runes.

 

" Kowakuteki na souzoubutsu da, nee...*"

 

((*"What a fascinating creature..."))

[Zadown]

The planewalker nods slowly at Yui Temae's words, closing his eyes. When they open again, they have faded to dull grey.

 

"There is a word we use for an entity who is not suspicious but still travels the paths between and beyond. It's 'dead', m'lady."

 

He smiles, this time a smile free of malevolence or madness.

 

"I am glad to see my suspicions were not correct. As for relaxing here, I'm afraid I have more journeys to embark upon before I can rest ... unless those journeys send me to yet further ones, always forward. I have meddled with bigger forces, and they are usually not .. very ... patient ...."

 

The Dreamer's voice fades out and he lets his senses wander, staring straight through Yui, seeing, hearing and tasting the nearby Void, attention wavering between his body and the surrouding Paths. Fascinated, Yui Temae examines the scarred features of the ageless creature before her, just as the Dreamer's attention refocuses itself back to his immendiate surroundings. For a short moment, the planewalker and the huntress look each other in the eye - both feel unsettled, and turn their gaze slightly away.

 

Without any further words, the planewalker coughs softly, opens the door with a slight gesture and steps inside his Astral Harbour.