OOC-- Um... I'm back. No one took over. No one did anything... oh well. Everyone was busy. I think we're gonna have to wind this endeavor down, cuz I think that we've got too many things going on with too few people to do them. Someone else ought to take over Control, if indeed anyone continues to post under it. whatever.

IC-- Drask saw Xandim falling, instinctively using the last of his magik to shield himself in some unconscious fashion. The white shell would hold. But it was now six olthoi against five of the WarAngels: Romulus had felled one of his adversaries and concentrated on the other. Vilset had stabbed another's back, splitting its exoskeleton and leaving it to bleed to death. Soon another olthoi fell to Romulus' rage and lust for blood as Drask strode back, his sword dripping lava and his eyes blazing fire.

vAldiCi pointed again with a finger bright and terrible in magik, and an olthoi bug, scraping its claws at the white shield of magik shimmered before being reduced to dust and slag. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air. Drask continued to walk towards the remaining bugs.

Four insects remained. Drask was once more tired of fighting--it bored him. He had mastered these things, creation of a God and playthings of WarAngels. Even with their handicaps, this divided group should be able to take care of them. Instead of fighting, instead of attacking the beasts outright, the dragon-elf stood atop Xandim's shield and fended off the olthoi.

Tarisse faded away, a ghost in a shell. Her memory collapsed and existed only in the minds of those she had known so briefly. Her shadow walked into an olthoi and walked it into the river of magma, almost dancing. One final favor for those who had, for a time, taken her in and sheltered her from the outside world. Three. The numbers now favored the WarAngels, even with all wounds accounted for.

Ragnarok laughed as a Raven flew in and landed on his outstretched hand. It walked up to the God's shoulder and whispered something in it's ear. Ragnarok growled. He threw the bird off his divine person and screamed in rage, standing up on the Powerstone--still floating in the air--and snapped his fingers. Once, twice, and again. Olthoi vanished. Blood disappeared. Wounds healed. Drask, bereft of his footing, landed on Xandim's stomach, which didn't improve the shapeshifting mage's opinion of the fire mage.

'Chaos is possibilities, as I have said before. But even Chaos can be subverted to serve Order for a time, if it suits him.'

Romu beckoned to the raven, which hovered by him. He called it closer, not listening to the God's speech. When it finally came close enough, the unarmored WarAngel--no longer a paladin--whispered a request to the bird: 'Say nevermore.' The bird, all regal coolness and frigid cordiality, ruffled its feathers before replying: 'Fcuk off.'

'Thus, I must grant you this, the seat of my power--quite literally--for a time. Now get your things and go, before I decide to deny receipt of the message and ruin your chances at destroying a false Goddess.'

The WarAngels left. The Guardian at the Gates restored to them their posessions: Romulus was reinstated as a Paladin of the Goddess and was returned his armor. Drask became a dragon once more, sheathing his father's tailsword--no worse for the wear for its dousing--in the scabbard at the base of his tail and retreiving Thornfire. Xandim got his sword back and felt the lock on his form lifted.

vAldiCi having already cleared his mind of the obstacles, led them back the way they'd come,towards where their comrades in arms had gone. He could sense the presence and the need of his brikari.

OOC--We have to go through the Control trials now, but only the fear dream, the wish dream, and the doors... each person do all three, if you would?

******************
I give you more. I give you a voice throughout
time that is more than a wordless bellow of rage.

******************
Time wounds all heels.

well not really, but it sounded cool. I've got Milton on the brain...

IC: The cave was dark, but for some magical glimmering from the magical folks. Romulus stooped to pick up his armour and sword, generously wrapped in yards of fine white silk, a pretty parcel with a blue ribbon. A prayer was called for so Romulus prayed:

"Deliver us from Evil, Goddess of mine, and give me the strength to fight the good fight, your prince among men and humble servent, En Taro Altair."

An oldie but goodie.

Romulus suited up--it felt good to be back in style--and sheathed his sword. The silk, too pretty to be left behind, he folded, and placed in his knapsack. Perhaps he would take it to a seamstress in the next village they came across and have a pretty dress made with it. A little something to charm the natives. Speaking of charming the natives, he jingled his small but substantial coin purse. Somewhere in there he had some Kennedy half dollars, and yes! some few precious dregs of tobacco and some papers.

Methodically, metitativly, he rolled a cigarette. Head down, still rolling, he asked his boys, "So now what?"

His comrades in arms were sitting on the ground, sipping prudent rations of water and resting after their victory. None were in the mood for talking. Romulus licked the paper and tucked the cig behind his ear.

"Hey Scaley, how goes it?"

The Dragon looked tired.

"Got a light?"

With infinite sarcasm the Dragon shot a nostril full of flame in Romulus's general direction and with one swift movement Romulus bent backwards, almost parrallel to the ground, and drew his cigarette to his lips, catching the bolt of flame with a deep inhale.

Slowly he rose in a puff of smoke and winked at the Dragon. "Thanks buddy."

Romulus sauntered off into the darkness to have a smoke in peace.

* * *

He was sitting with his back against the smooth face of rock jutting like a penninsula from the wall. These caves had contained rivers once, he was sure of it. The sides of the walls were etched with lines, the floor smooth and nearly unbroken. It was quite comfortable here, cool with a slight draft, which although dank, provied for some relief from his still sweating skin. He could see the lights of his comrades further down the tunnel. Perhaps he would catch a quick nap...yes, just rest his eyes for a moment...

When he awoke, he was alone. In the dark. Naked and cold.

Romulus screamed.



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

OOC- Bad dream, good dream, door. Here I go.

IC-The troupe was oddly sullen after their victory. They moved along their way, down a tunnel. Romulus stopped to take a breather, but the others did not notice, unfortunately. They were still tired from their last event. Vilset began to feel quite disoriented. He thought to himself that perhaps a quick rest would do him some good. He, too, silently slipped out of consciousness, unnoticed by the rest of the group. He then experienced a nightmare:

Bad dream~

Vilset was in a room crowded with all sorts of people: elves, men, dwarves, and everything else that would fit. He looked at all the people. Each one was moving somewhere, but he could not tell where. They all had a specific course they had planned to reach their destination. Vilset stepped forward. He was jostled by a dwarf who was walking in a straight line. Recovering from this, he bumped into an elf who set his further off balance. He tripped over something on the floor and sprawled onto the ground. People continued to mill about in their paths. Some walked over Vilset to get to their destinations, ignoring his pain completely. It seemed to Vilset that these people had no minds of their own; each one was absorbed in his or her own little room. Struggling up from the floor, Vilset caught a glimpse of a face he knew well. It was Evelyn, standing at the opposite end of the room. Of all the people inhabiting the room, only Evelyn stood still. Vilset began to run towards his love. He shouted “Evelyn!” Or rather, he tried to shout. No sound was produced from the vampire’s throat, but he still felt the vibrations in his body. He tried again to call out, but with no success.

It was then that he realized that no one else made any noise, either, and it was not only because the people were overwhelmed with their task of wandering. No one’s feet made any noise. Vilset could not hear anyone breathing. There was no sound at all in this bizarre room.

Despite these observations, Vilset continued calling as he tried to push his way through the crowd. “Evelyn! Evelyn! I must see you! It has been so long… come to me. I need to hold you. I must touch you again.” No noise was made.

Evelyn remained silent, staring morbidly into Vilset’s eyes. Eyes that would never wet again gazed from both heads. Vilset forced his way through the mass of people. He knocked over a woman who had been walking in his direction. She did not hesitate, and immediately recovering from her fall, she walked on to her destination. Vilset at last reached Evelyn, and collapsed into his love’s arms. Evelyn stared chillingly down at him and dropped him. “Forget me. I have forgotten you.”

The words, though soft and low, pierced Vilset in his ears, his mind, and his heart. It was the only sound he had heard since he had entered the odd room. It was the only sound he did hear for the endurance of his stay. He lay crumpled on the ground. More people began to step on him in their pathways. He looked up pleadingly at anyone who might see him. He thought he saw Evelyn’s hair on a figure walking away from him, silky and dark, but his vision became blocked by the foot of another stranger. He was being trampled by strangers. He recognized many faces, but they were all strangers. Even Evelyn.

Good dream~

The vampire jolted from the nightmare. It was nothing but an illusion; the room was never there. So where was he now? He was not in the last place he had been. He was somewhere different altogether, a place to which he had no memory of ever going. He looked around. He saw no one. Vilset panicked. Still in the mindset of the dream, he scrambled away, making a cloud of dust and dirt rise from the floor.

When he stopped scuttling, and the dust had cleared, he found himself in another cavern, much like the one he had just left. There was no one near. Vilset started to feel dizzy. He was getting a headache, and he closed his eyes. He kneeled down, grasping his head. Then the pain passed, and he slumped over onto the ground.


Vilset was in a room, much like the one he had been in before. This time, however, there was sound. A light and airy music of strings and pipes played, seeping through the walls. Like the one that he remembered from recent memory (though he could not precisely place the memory), this room was filled with people of all sorts. Every face he had ever known seemed to be in that room. His family and his friends from his town were all present. He could clearly see all the members of the bizarre quest he had joined. Each one was smiling, and glad to be in the presence of the others. There were no quarrels, no disputes, and no hurried plans being made. They all looked upon him with pride. Not knowing quite why, Vilset felt honoured to be in the presence of so many great people.

Then he gazed across the room to the opposite side. Once again, he saw Evelyn, only this time bearing the smile that Vilset had fallen in love with. They both ran toward each other. The other guests of this room parted to allow them to meet in the center of the room. Evelyn embraced Vilset, and was lifted from the floor and spun by his strong arms.

“You do not forget me, Evelyn?”

The fair elf smiled. “I will never forget you, Vilset Lokidarö. We are entwined forever. There is nothing that could change that.”

Vilset put his hand into his cloak pocket, and drew out a small ring. He placed it on his Love’s slender finger.

“Never change, my Love.”

“Never. Now go, your companions need you. I will await you in the West. Be quick, and never lose courage!”

Vilset smiled, and walked toward the troupe of mismatched fighters who eagerly anticipated their next adventure.


He awoke…

Door~

… in yet another room. I do not enjoy being tossed about these rooms and caverns like some game token, he thought to himself. He took a good look at this room. There were exactly eight exits. Each was a door of a different colour. Red, yellow, blue, brown, green and gold held no appeal to him. The black and white doors, however, did. Black was the colour of his cloak, and his usual demeanor recently. White made him remember the clouds he had once dreamed of as a child, back when he was free of guilt, fear, and all those terrible emotions that come from maturity. He looked upon the black door, and saw himself as a vampire. Looking at the white door, he saw himself as a child. He opened the white door and entered, alone.

The door shut behind Vilset. An icy wind passed, causing him to draw his cloak nearer. This was just a reflex; it served no purpose: as a vampire, he hardly felt the cold. Snow was falling on the ground, coming down softly. The wind blew and fluttered the vampire’s clothing. He marched forward, not knowing what he ought to expect. First had come two shockingly realistic dreams. One was true despair: being forgotten and despised by all he had ever known. The other was a vision of perfection, filled with music, laughter, and people who enjoyed one another’s company without complaint. This new experience had no semblance of a dream. It was very real.

Vilset began to wonder as he wandered what was happening to his comrades; not only the ones who were on his side of the division between Power and Control, but the members of the other group, too. He pondered if they were going through similar trials. He shook off these thoughts, and attempted to focus on the task at hand.

The first task was to find out what the task he must complete actually was. This snowfield was clearly more than just a pretty scene to look at. There was something hidden. He must find it.

Vilset stopped walking. He took out his pouch, and opened it. Inside there were no more than a dozen bottles of potions. Also in it were herbs, spices, various other ingredients and a few flasks of dye. He took some blue dye and a potion. He uncorked the bottle, and emptied the flask’s contents into it. Next, he carefully dropped into the bottle a seed that was in his pouch. He covered his face with his cloak, and took several steps back.

A hissing noise began to come from the bottle. A blue cloud seeped out of the neck, and into the whirling wind. The wind carried the smoky cloud across the banks of snow, and colored everything it touched a deep shade of blue.

“Perfect. Now I can see what is what here. All the snow was just white, and it was impossible for me to make out figures. With the smoke and the dye, I can see different shades and shadows. Including yours.”

A creature loomed ahead of him. It had camouflaged itself in the snow, but now that it was covered in varying shades of blue, it stood out quite well. It had the shape of an oversized dwarf, but its skin seemed to be made of ice.

“Interesting trick, vampire,” the creature sneered. “Welcome to my chamber.”

“Where is this chamber? What was that room with the doors?”

“One question at a time, little thing. The room you left was one of two chambers of elements in the nearby area. It gives access to eight different elements. Light and Shadow are constantly in a war with one another. Earth, Water, Fire, Wood, and Metal have their own circle of destruction. My element, Ice, stands alone. Ice is the element of solitude. That is why we are here alone. However, two is still too many for me. You will have to be destroyed, little black bug.”

The ice giant, who had up until then only menacingly stood in place, began to stomp towards the vampire. “This thing is not very fast,” Vilset noted to himself. “I will have to utilize that weakness.”

The ice giant took a swipe at Vilset, who cleanly dodged the large fist. It carried on with its momentum, and staggered forward. Vilset made another mental note, this time noticing how the giant relied on its power, and not at all on its wits. Vilset continued to dodge attacking fists as he thought up a plan. He thought of the elements that the beast had mentioned: Light, Shadow, Earth, Water, Fire, Wood, and Metal. If he had only had a way to get Fire, he would be all set. Ice’s natural enemy is fire. There was no time to make that, however. Ice destroys Earth and Wood, so Vilset counted those out of his plan. Water, too; that would only fuel the ice.

Light was as hard to come by as fire in this place, so Vilset could only conclude to use the elements he had at hand: Metal and Shadow.

He unsheathed his sword. He held it before him as the ice giant’s fist swooped towards him. It severed the limb with a satisfying SSWISHHH. The giant felt no pain, and was only made angrier by the loss of its limb. It continued to swipe at Vilset with its other arm. Vilset dashed away from the menacing monster. He took of his cloak and held it in his right hand, holding his sword in his left. The giant was gaining momentum as it pursued him. Vilset crouched, and waited for the moment to be right. Wait… wait… Now! He tossed the cloak into the air, and it was picked up by the wind, and blown into the ice giant’s face. Now the giant’s vision was filled only with shadow. No longer could he see the black figure that had stood so plainly in the now-blue snow. The vampire took this opportunity while the giant stood in confusion. He took his sword in both hands and began to slice away at the beast. The sharp blade slid through the giant’s icy body. Severed limbs fell and crashed on the snow. Soon, the giant was nothing but a pile of ice cubes. Vilset took his cloak back, now damp and cold, and walked forward toward the door, which had reappeared and opened before him. He walked proudly through.

OOC- That was fun. Took me too long, though. Whatever. I’m just glad that I finished it. That was a lot to do, Drask. But it was fun.

Catch the breeze and the winter chills / in colours on the snowy linen land.

Chill.

^^V^^

"Blood- is red as sunset.
Blood- is warmer than wine.
It's warmer than wine.
The taste of salty summer brine."
~Pippin

OOC- sory man guys between war3 and liike making video and being g0su in hk my time has been ill spent on the quest board. but here goes..

IC- reeling bak in shock and motion
intron the light contortion
seeing the way of making slowness
factoring in the light of rawness
feeling the right of nothing floating
seeing the light of right contortion

that is the way of feeling motion
feel the feeling through the way
of fear and despair and heartening
to that which nobody else
that one only yourself can see.

heartening, breaking strenghteningly..

these are th ways of the elven tree
and so he passed through his barriers of emotions, but having already experienced the extremes in his past and present planes of existence, the cavernous magics did little to affect the highly trained mage.
but a twinge of spite and a quickening of the cheeks flesh , and some short memories-
but none too powerful that makes him fall into a sleep, like his comrades.
So he watched over them as they traveled inside of themselves, and woke up slowly, one by one.

Ooc - guess whos back... back again... xandims back.. tell a friend...

IC - Xandim had been wandering for awhile, unaware of his bredren who had slowly begun fading away. Hours rolled on, as he seemed to be walking, but reaching no particular destination. He could have sworn that the wall was merely being moved to follow his path... and that the dark spots were telling him messages. Wearily he carried.. for ages.. until suddenly... a halfling bounded up behind him, frying pan in hand, and smashed it against the back of his skull. "Resistant one we got here aye!" it spoke, as Xandim slipped into a deep sleep.

--bad dream--

A waterfall was raging against the mountain, set aside by a large number of exotic trees and greenery. Xandim had reached a paradise! The waterfall was large, and fresh, and smelled almost perfect. He wandered towards the opening of which watefall turned into a pond, and slowly he drank from it. The water replenished him, and soothed his dry throat. Unable to control himself, Xandaim eventually filled his body up with water. Now fully loaded with water, he sat back against a palm tree and relaxed... falling asleep... the sound of rushing water strong in his mind.. his bladder full. Yes folks, as you guessed it, Xandims bad dream is about wetting his bed~

Suddenly Xandim awoke, checking himself for any urine that might have escaped during his sleep. "thank god!" he sighed as he closed his eyes, for a moment. This moment was all his body, as it fell into a deep slumber again.

--Good dream--

He was in a... single's bar, with all females. 80 of the most developed females of his age he could see! Eagerly he walked up to the nearest one, to talk with for a minute or two before moving on. Slowly he found his way around the room, the females all awaiting his arrival, wanting to talk to him about almost anything. Xandim had grown fond of this one very cute and wild half elf, who he brought home with him... this was his good dream.


Xandim awoke, startled about his location. He had remembered being in a corridor, yet he was in a stables... sitting right beside a sabertooth tiger. "It is time, my child," the Tiger spoke, as Xandim extended his hand to pet the tiger. Immediately they got to their feet, as the stables had changed shape and form, and become a sotney corridor with a single silver door in front of him.

--The door--

As he opened the door with his companion, a single ogre stood motionless in the center of the room. Slowly Xandim crept in, tiger to his right. The door closed and vanished, as the ogre charged. Xandim reached for his sword, his tiger baring its teeth at this intruder, ready to defend. Xandim however, had suddenly found himself iwthout armor or weapon. "Grrr. You must become me! Only as two of the same can we have the power to destory one!". Xandim pondered this as he envisioned himself becoming a tiger. This procedure was not new to him, as he had seen it happen before. Slowly his body changed shape and form, as he become a sabertooth tiger, that identical to his companion. The two dodged the ogre, and surrounded it, only making it confused. Slowly it would turn, swing at one, only to be clawed in its back, and repeat its movement. sniff sniff Xandim could smell defeat, as could his tiger. With impecible timing, each tiger lunged for the ogres throat, destorying the creature. Suddenly the ogre vanished, a chime sounded from above, as a golden door appeared, and opened for them. Each tiger walked through the door to reunite with the AtW and their animals, who were surprisingly well mannered, each saying hello, one even sayin "sup, player?". The only thing is, no one knew which tiger was Xandim, if one even was Xandim. Neitherhad seen this form before, and were weary of the two sabertooth tigers that had appeared behind them.