OOC- easter egg... and i'm not teh jokes about my easter egg. and dont worri chori- i promised u a fight =) o and sory romu but i know u called next next post and all but u didnt seem to respond on IM or woteva
jimbo+ arthur ~ i want some ALIQUOT action !! keke



IC- Oh, and in times of neediness it seemed that they pulled together quite well. Tam and Romulus - the warriors- cleaving and cutting through their opponents like so much meat and blood spraying almost endlessly around them-
But they all stopped when they heard and saw the great howling dragon spiraling downwards in a pillar of flame, smoke and leather. It was so unlike him to lose control over his emotions, though the older ones in the group knew that it was not easy being a dragon.
Alas, the bandits had not been vanquished just yet. They were certainly smart enough to avoid most of the dragon's attack, furious as it was - for they saw it coming from afar. This however- did not mean that they weren't now scared. Even they seemed to have some sort of organizational tactic, a common trait amongst glade bandits. A slight hush swept across the small clearing.
Romulus and Tam Lyn were still battle ready. One could see the adrenalin in their systems pumping furiously, their eyes wide open and their hearts craving the fight.
Di'ethe could not believe his eyes. This was a living forest - one of the few remaining. Even though he was a Dark Elf he still felt an affinity towards nature. And yet Here was Draskireis pounding his fiery wrath down upon dozens of timeless trees and flaying their spirits ! He was shocked and enraged, and clenched his fist trying to restrain himself.
The Xandim-cat bounded away into the bushes after dropping the pendant at Di'ethe's feet. A faint "meow" and rustling of the bushes was heard by those nearby.

"Do not be alarmed, my brikari- it is Xandims time to leave us for a short while." vAl said simply, as if adding to the silence of the place. vAldiCi stood by the large rock now, by Di'ethe. The High and the Dark watched as the precious forest burned before their eyes.
"Can we not do something about this destruction?" vAl said into the wind. He looked at the crumpled form of the dragon who must be hurt, judging from the height of his dive. Blood that was not his pooled out from under Drasks' belly. It looked like a bloody butcher's shop gone awry. Choriselle could not much stand the sight of it either. She and Tarisse had been backing up Sinister Eagle while he casted his wind magic, slicing (OOC- u use a sword right? :P) any opponent that came too close.

"Gather round the rock, everyone.. it is not clear of danger yet." vAldiCi could tell that there were at least 10 more men lurking about- and the fact that Draskireis and Xandim were out of the fight put a little damper on things. Each one of them had their eyes peeled for the slightest movement around- their backs to the rock. vAl muttered a word of powa -

+and let us walk without fear+

a small globe of psionic energy flew out from his staff, spreading transluscent blue trails around him and his brethren..

"We must be alert.."

And they crouched there, swords drawn, spells on their lips and bows pulled taut, their backs to the rock which emitted a calming grace (of nature) and a hasty magical shield around them.
They crouched for what seemed like an unbearably long time.. But their good preparation was not in vain
The second wave came upon them like the rush of doglings so many years ago in the jungle of Khra. Their opponents looked like they were under the influence of a 'haste' spell, from the way they moved.

Through the rings and battle cries and the scraping of steel on steel, a peaceful bunny rabit blinked its eyes before the scene of violence unfolding before itself.



"God damn carrots !" yelled Romulus as he parried a sword thrust to his abdomen..

OOC- u know u want the bunny booty , baby. Lets see how u guys fight =P


---------------------------
Word is king to the truest ~

OOC--Dear God, this is gonna be wretched.

IC-Chori wasnt scared. She was only nervous. She and Tarisse were dying to prove themselves. When the bandits trapped her, Tarisse, and vAl, she was ready. With a sharp flick of her wrist, her sword was in her hands and the enemy closest to her was lying in a bloody pool.
"Get that girl! She's a threat!" yelled a Dark one.
*As if you couldnt see that before?* wondered Chori. He ran at her, but she was ready. She swung at him, knocking him back a little, and slicing a deep cut in his arm. He returned with a narrow slice down her right arm. She shreiked. That arm was injured enough. *Oh well, screw it.* She lunged again, with all fury. Their swords clashed, and he tried to force her down, but failed. She slammed him up against the nearest tree. "HA!" Then, making sure he was concious, she drew a red line from the top of his head to his belly button, and watched, as he crumbled to the ground, dead.

Something whistled overhead. Chori looked up to see Drask, hurtling through the air. *Oh my Gods, Tarisse, he is gonna kill himself!*
*I know.* Tarisse sent back, running over to her Guardian. Chori couldnt stand this thought. She turned to Tarisse and vAl, a tear in her right eye. *He can't die, Tarisse. He just can't.*

You alone can make my song take flight--Music of the Night.

The enemies were scattered, and Drask was down. Tam wanted to run to the downed dragon, but two things restrained him. The first was knowing that they had a competent heal in Tarrisse, while he himself only knew first aid, and that only for humanoids. The second was that he could sense that the enemies, having been scattered into the woods were regrouping. There were at least ten, perhaps a dozen, but not many more. Romulus sensed them too, and the two with swords drawn placed themselves between the rock where the others had gathered and the bushes where the enemy was gathering. They assumed defensive stances facing the bushes.

Then the men charged out of the bushes. Too fast, as if enhanced by a haste spell. Tam stepped into them, past their front line and into the thick of the battle. He did as he had done before, dodging and parrying, slashing whatever target was presented to him. They were the better of the bad guy fighters: the ones that had sruvived the origional encounter. They were also hasted. There were fewer targets presented, and more blows to dodge and parry. "They were tougher, but I can deal well enough, or at least deal with the ones not engaged with other clan members." thought Tam, dodging a sword slash coming from his left, then noticing that the hand holding the sword was left out a little too far, slicing at it with the belt knife in his left hand, giving the sword wielder a flesh wound on his lower arm. As he did that, he parried a sword blow from the other side with his own sword. Then an axe was comming at him from the right as well, and he only had time to turn his sword slightly to deflect the axe blade enough to dodge it. Tam's sword was still crossed with the sword of the first attacker however, and as the powerful blow of the axe struck Tam's sword, the sword that Tam's was crossed with acted as the fulcrum of a lever, and Tam's sword was sent spinning out of his hand.

Hand ringing, Tam dropped to the ground, avoiding a swing from a sword, then did a sweep kick upon the axe wielder, knocking his feet out from under him and sending him tumbling to the ground. A sword was coming at Tam's head from the left, and he rolled to the side as the sword landed in the dirt. Tam rolled up to his feet beside the man pulling his sword out of the ground, planting a left hook squarely on the side of the man's head. Unfortunately for that man, Tam's left hand was the one which still held his belt knife.

Romulus was pissed. Fucking angry. The type of anger that puts you out of your head. And so he raged.

His attack was all aggression, no defense. He swung his sword over his head like a ball and chain, striking out at anyone unfamiliar to him. The atom blade was light in his hands, almost weightless, and the edge, wickedly sharp. His opponents fell about him, cleaved in pieces, screaming in their death throes. And still Romulus raged.

He met Tam in the middle, and he was so bloodlusted that he had to check a swing in his direction. The enemy was defeated, for now, and a quiet hush fell over the littered clearing.

Romulus was soaked in blood. He'd need to find a stream to clean up. He could taste it in his mouth and his eyes stung. He wiped under his nose with the back of his hand, clearing the thick mucus so he could breath properly. He spat red.

Plunging the atomblade into the dirt, he marched across the clearing, directly towards Xandim, an arrow still sticking out of his arm, and said evenly, "THIS is why we value our days of peace."

Later, Romulus would feel bad about singling him out in front of the others, but Romulus has a habit of getting emotional about these things. Especially peace--warrior though he be.

The two female travelers had fallen back against the rock after helping Eagle. One of them had even made a kill, Romulus would find out. But for now, he did not know, nor did he know the dishonorable way in which she had mutilated the attackers body from neck to nuts. This was the custom in some countries, yet he was not a believer.

The two had moved from the rock out into the clearing to see for themselves the ravages of the battle. The one named Chori was poking at a brute who had fallen close to the rock, her friend was looking over her shoulder. Romulus walked past them, back to his sword, and pulled it from the ground.

Chori was leaning in close to the fallen enemies face, "Look Tarisse, I don't think he's dead yet--" and in a split second the bandit had her by the hair and pulled himself to his knees. Tarisse screamed as he pulled a knife and stuck it to Chori's throat. He stood on his feet, visably limping, but with a hostage, and facing the majority of the group.

But Romulus was still enraged, his sword still in hand, and if there was anything in this world that could have satiated that rage, it would be one last chance to destroy an evil in the act of wickedness. So he walked calmly. Softly. The way Valdici had taught him. And he raised his sword for one last swing.

Romulus looked past the struggling Chori and the bandit who was screaming, "Nobody move! Or I'll cut her like a pig!" His old friend met his eyes, and Romulus' anger wavered. Those soft elven eyes, always looking for peace. Always safe and caring. Valdici gave him strength over himself, but the stubborn human shrugged it off. He would be Peaceful later. For now, he was Anger.

He swung true and clean, through the bandits waist, just above the hip, cutting cleanly through the fifth vertebrae. The spinal cord was severed before he even felt the pain, so sharp was the atom blade.

The captor fell in two paralysed halves to the ground,

and Chori ran to the comforting arms of her friend.

The elf bowed his head,

and the Man walked away into the forest,


his sword still in hand.






***Knowledge without Goodness is Dangerous
and Goodness without Knowledge is Weak.***

OOC--thank god that's all settled.

IC--Drask hurt. A lot. Unable to do much, he receded into himself, saving up his strength for the inevitable fight with life. He collapsed himself down into his head and locked it up in a dream. The dragon sleeps to dream.

They moved together through the underside of the building, through catwalks and hidden pathways and secret doors. All hidden from human sight, from human knowledge. They were the fugitives of light. Down and down and down they went, stopping only when they reached the river, which they crossed in a boat. They only had a lantern by which to see, but it was enough. They reached the far shore, the place to which she brought him... And he could not go on. It was not his place to do so. Nor even his right to do so. Darkness may suspend wrong and right, but what happens when one leaves the night? Sadly, he moved away and left his mask and rose for her to find.

shift

The wind was restless that night. Drask stood inside his past, knowing what was to come, knowing what could not change, knowing she had to leave. Knowing that she would die. Linfaer smiled, sadly, as she kissed him on the cheek--elven, but still distinctly Drask. Looking is his eyes, seeing the turbulent green muted around the flaring Prophet's Ring, she knew that there were no words to heal him, no way to soften this blow: she was leaving and nothing he could do would bring her back. She thought for a moment that it wasn't fair. Not fair to him, that she would be compelled to leave uneder someone else's orders. Not fair to her, that he could not understand that there are things more important than feelings. Damn all Dragons, damn them and all their stubbornness! She walked out into the raging winds and driving rain.

shift

The battle lines had been drawn up, the field was poised to shift either in one way or the other, depending upon the valor of the knights in either camp. Men would wager on the battle's outcome, the cynics betting against their fellow soldiers. Overhead, the auguries were obscured by low-lying fogs and mists that dampened both equipment and spirits. Surely Avrinthe was not a time of war. The morning dawned to drums and danger, fighting and furor. Few would meet the evening star's arival. Above, on a cliff out of bow's reach, a man sat on a throne watching the battle's progress. He nodded to his chancellor, pleased. He smiled, wondering that a single gesture from a single person could cause such wanton destruction.

shift

Draskireis Martissal, last and only remaining son of Paenthelas, walked alone on his dark road. He had no companions left--they had all gone before him. His staff now served as his central tentpole... when he could put up a tent at all. His father's tailsword was now the greatsword with which he defended himself from brigands and common theives. The road was cold and muddy, his clothes were sodden and filthy, his love was dead, and what had he gotten? He had gotten to go home to family long dead, to go home to a tomb of friends and relatives slaughtered before his eyes by the demonic servant of a false god. He went home to a place that was not his home. His home was nowhere: it had vanished the moment he had lost Linfaer. His home was in her heart.

But she was with him still, and the amulet at his throat warmed at that thought. She was with him still.

The dragon dreamed, and waited still for a better day to dawn.

******************
Not all who wander are lost.

OOC-yeah, so sorry I don't post that much after those two long posts. I guess I just write when the feeling strikes me (usually in the form of my muse hitting me upside the head with a steel baseball bat) or when my muse gets drunk and high. Well, my muse has been getting drunk to the point where I get extremely drunk, to the point where I can't think straight. Basically, in plain English (well, kinda, anyways) I've fallen into deep depression (although at school you can't tell that 'cause I've been bouncing off the walls hence my muse getting drunk) and can't write. But people have been threatening me with mortal wounds and the like, so I'm posting. But be warned, it'll suck (like everything else I do).

IC-

The brutal battle had finally passed, the first one Tarisse had ever been in. Sure, she trained really hard and had had her fair amount of matches in the rinks, but this was different. Much different. She had no blade and no bow and arrows. All she could rely on was her 'stick'. Trusty companion, though it was, it just could not measure up in such a sudden, cruel, harshly real battle. Sure it's efficient for wounding, but that only gets so far. That one--who had attacked Chori--he was one of them who Tarisse had wounded. And when he jumped up and tried to hold Chori hostage, there was nothing she could do with endangering her dear friend's life. She felt so useless at this point. But she had to be strong.
For now was the time to prove herself. After the battle had been won. Time to show her worth as a healer. "Sylvia, give me strength to heal those in need, these creatures for the side of light regardless of their race and heritage." She prayed silently to her greatest role model, the one who stood in the shining sun every morning to greet her and wipe the sleep sand from her eyes. The one who reminded her that the time was now, and there were those who needed her.
Quickly, she made sure Chori was alright (at least emotionally at this point) before making her way swiftly to Drask's side. They had all been wounded, but he demanded attention first.
By the time she had reached him, his eyes had closed and his body had fallen limp. Gently, she took his head in her hands, closed her eyes and concentrated deeply, probing his mind. She looked up at all who had circled around and stood waiting expectantly. "He's fallen into a dream coma. His body is trying to preserve itself. But his dreams are those of misery and sadness and anger.”
“Can you help him?”
“I can help his body, but I don’t know if I can help his soul. He’ll need everyone, not just me in order to do that.”
“But in order for that to happen, his body must be healed.” Tarisse only nodded to this comment, preparing herself to heal Drask. With a look from Tarisse, Chori ran off to the big rock where they had left the supplies returning with Tarisse’s pack. When she returned, Tarisse had already entered the first stage of her healing trance. After being handed bandages and a thick gooey green substance by Chori, she set to work, applying the mysterious substance to his wounds and covering them with the cloth, muttering chants to Mother Earth the whole time. Slowly, an aura (a sort of gold yellow in color) appeared around her and (a sort of crimson) Drask. They melded together as she poured healing energy into him, both from the Earth and her own soul.

Drask looked up from the muddied ground he trod upon. Tarisse stood there, in the clothes of her elfin mother’s heritage. Her dark hair was loose for once and glistened slightly with the yellowish aura surrounding her. “Come back, Drask. They are all waiting for you. Your home is with them now.” Even as she spoke, he could see behind her visions of her own past. She smiled and held out her hand in friendship and trust, a life-vest in the never-ending ocean.

Minutes past, painfully slow, for those watching. Finally, Tarisse blinked out of her trance and stared at them with clouded eyes. “His physical wounds will be fine. Now, we must worry about his spiritual ones.” Tarisse glanced at those assembled. “But that must wait. Let me see your wounds.” One by one, she bandaged up the wounds, not having to call on the magic to aid her. Sometimes, she would have to give a little bit of her energy, though, and so by the end, she was a little bit wobbly. Chori handed her a cloak, and Tarisse fell asleep in the bushes immediately, leaving the others to worry about the rock.

OCC-There, I posted. Now be happy. It was bad, I know, I’m sorry, and it got slightly Lord of the Ring-ish. Oh well. I love that movie. Now I’m going to go cry myself to sleep.


MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAcoughchokegaspcoughHAHAHAHAHA...okay, I'm done now.

Hehe. Chocolate. Lain. Sleep.

OOC- erp, it's been a bit too long between my posts, I think. Unlike Soup, I write best when my muse is not sloshed. Unfortunately, my head has been spinning for a while, but I'm quasi-settled now.

IC- The battle was over, and Tarisse was healing the wounded. Then, vAl posed the question: "Where did that vampire dissappear to?" None of them could say for certain when the last time they saw him was. A few had noticed him at the beginning of the battle, but soon lost sight of him in the frenzy. "That is just like a vampire," Chori said, "That's just like him. Dissappearing to places where he cannot be found in times of emergencaaaaaahhhhh!"

Her words were interrupted by a scream of surprise. Those who had been ignoring her whipped their heads toward her direction. She was standing alone, as her wide eyes slowly narrowed into slits. Slowly, she turned. In front of her, a shimmer appeared in the air, just as it does when the fumes of a fire start to rise. The shimmer twisted into a black figure. In less then three seconds, Vilset was standing there before them, his mouth in the shape of a mischeivious grin. "Surprise?"

He found himself amid a vast array of expressionate faces, ranging from astonishment to amusement, with a particularly peeved expression on Chori. "What was that all about? Who do you think you are, trying to scare me? And just how did you do that? You're no sorcerer, I am sure of that!"

Surpressing a chuckle, Vilset replied, "No, I am certainly not a sorcerer of any sort, although I do enjoy creating exciting illusions and eccentric confusions. I am an apothocary. A poition-maker, in fact. You witnessed one of my favourite potions: transparency. I have several vials of potions with me, and I know how to make many others. I used transparency when that aweful battle began. I'm not experienced as a fighter, although being a vampire does seem to give me an edge. Consequently, I was unwilling to fight th orthodox way against skilled warriors. While transparent, it was almost simple to attack the enemies. Got a good meal out of it too."

His companions each gave him another look. Tarisse turned vaguely green at the notion of making a meal out of a blood-fest. Realizing for the first time his awkward situation, he broached a new topic. "So, ah, what about the big rock? I thought I could solve it with a potion of mine, but I don't think that there are too many blue spiders in this neck of the woods. I would need their web-silk to make an adequate potion. Oh well. I'm sure that there's some other way to get arround it. Any ideas?"

OOC-hmm, yeah. I didn't know how to end it, so I just left it open. Fragi agres in saecula.

^V^

Vilset :-[..

computors are evilness. ignore this message.

OOC - Ya valdici just nevermind, truth is im not being kicked out of the house.

IC - Xandim had been saved by the dragon, from an abductee who wanted him back on the dark side. By doing this he had only caused the voice in his mind to become angered. However, when he was saved by Drask, the dragon had collapsed, exhausted. Xandim had changed back and was able to return the favour and prevent further harm from happnening to Drask. Slowly, with the help of the others, they had awakened the dragon and prepared to take on the rock. This would not be a physical battle, but a mental one. Slowly they assembled, cautious of the woods. When Romolus had stated, "THIS is why we value our days of peace," Xandim had merely grinned back with a look of satisfaction. For this human was satisified. The human body may not be strong, yet it was more agile and quick then the daemons which he had been just recently. Slowly Xandim stalked off into the woods, and sat down 20 paces into it, against a tree and a nearby abandoned birds nest. A voice rang in his head loudly... the words were quickened, all he could understand were two very harmless words... that is until he pieced them together - SPLIT... FOREVER