OOc- hehe harmless is the word of the day

IC- The fighting was almost chaotic like they forgot their elegant swings and movements. The fighting kept going and going, screams of murdered rage and blood flying, magic searing across and around.
It was something out of those ancient scrolls, the sight of the fighters fighting.
Now everyone who was able bodied was fighting. It was turning in to a mess of chaos.
Tam Lyn and Romulus were like triple blades of swinging death. They coordinated their attacks with such deadly precision that it seemed they were the only ones in Control.

vAl was still charging up for his next attack..
When all the fighting stopped all of a sudden.
The cannons surrounding drask were destroyed,
the imps retreated..

And a bellowing sound like the war drums of the armies Kith'sinai was heard.. coming closer and closer.
The DC warriors that remained pulled back, smiling evil and vicious smiles. One of their magicusers took out a small scroll from his pouch and activated it.
Bursts of blue light around the DC
and they were teleported elsewhere..

far away

even the dead ones were taken.

..
The AtW were standing around, wondering what was going to take the place of the DC.
Drask, Xandim and Lywen had come back to the room where the others were, since the imps had all retreated.

Then the bellowing again..
And at that moment something within all of them realized that the source of the bellowing was ...something... trying to dislodge the central stone of power within the heart of the house of Altair..
It was like a simultaneous telepathic message
Like the heart of the Garden calling out to her protectors..

"we have to get a move on." said vAl, who was already running towards the house of altair.
everyone else ran too.

---------------------------
For Altair~

OOC: so anyway, i'm back....lol. seemed to have missed the slightly traumatic g entrance and departure of the other two newbies...
greetings everyone else i haven't had a chance to meet yet...Vilset and Lyta (your wolf cub sounds cute!), sorry it's taken so long to meet.

Quick intro to my character Emyr, last of the line of Helenas; elven princess; healer and fighter.
Haven't been around for a while unfortunately. But hopefully will be able to stick around for a while this time s


IC: The delicate form uncurled from it's position of rest, feeling the slight ache as long unused muscles protested. Stretched. The light streaming into the room from the narrow window showed the lateness of the day. Currently emerald green, almond shaped eyes characteristic of her line, peeked out from under the long silver hair which fell around her like a shimering waterfall. Alert. For she had been awoken by her brikari. She sensed their presence near by. Their need was great.

She was late. There was no time to linger. Rising quickly, she grabbed her gear.


Emerged to a scene of destruction...there was no time to stand and gawk, though there was shock that their stronghold had been penetrated so deeply. It was strange indeed to realise that the garden had fallen.

Moving through the once familar grounds, she silently hurried to join the others, senses tingling.

OOC--turns out I won't be in Boston over Thanksgiving. Sucks for me. ::feels the need to destroy something beautiful::
no avatar
IC--Draskireis did not go back into the House of Inaduir. He did not retreat as had the imps. His home had been destroyed as a side-effect of a plan which had not worked. The dragon dreamed while still awake.

The entire clanhome had collapsed with a single word and a gesture from the mage. What dread power was his, that he could look upon the home of his enemies, his victims, and with little more than a thought and a nod, destroy them? What fell mistress did he serve, who claimed such terrible might as her own to wield through her foul servants? His home, become naught. His clan, if indeed any still lived, was buried surely as if in a tomb. There was nothing more for Martissal's Heir here.

Drask turned away from his place. His god was dead, its spirit drowned in the grief at the loss of the body it had inhabited unconsciously. Freia was gone, but Banthusir was dead.

A hand--skin's profaning touch--upon his haunch.

'You will come with me, and we will do great things together.'

'Great, or terrible? I see nothing but horror in this day's works, while you see only glory. I will not serve you as you serve your dread mistress. I will not become a pawn in the Gods' khes game. I will not allow myself to willingly serve a cause which I know full well to be responsible for my family's death. Take your promises, your enticements, your lures. Take them elsewhere. And be gone from my sight.'

'Brave words for a mageling to say to the master who moments since destroyed his entire history. I will give you a chance to choose your words--and your decision--with more thought and care. Again I say, come with me, and we shall bend the world to our design.'

'You do not mean that. You meant to say "Come with me, be my slave, and I shall make all the world my own to rule as I see fit.". I might have no choice of staying here. But I do have the choice whether or not to go: there is a third choice.'

'What? Would you die rather than come serve me? Do you find me truly that evil?'

'Yes. But I am willing to walk a middle ground, to make a pact with darkness. I will come to you of my own choosing, once my own needs are met, once my own things are taken care of--WITHOUT intervention. Do you find that to be acceptable for whatever malefactions you've planned for me, O Servant of Neit?'

'I find it to be quite acceptable, mageling. But if you see fit to bargain with darkness, don't expect things to go your way in the final balance. The delay will only exacerbate your pain. This I promise you.'

'And for all the pain I have suffered by your mistress's designs, I will enact equal suffering upon all her minions. This I swear to you, by the death of my brother in blood.'

A bellow. The minotaur. The enormous construction had not fallen back, nor had his complement of troll elite. The trolls fanned out around Drask as the minotaur went towards the House of Altair. Drask shrugged his enormous, scaled shoulders as he knew their intentions: to keep him from preventing the minotaur from accomplishin whatever his mission happened to be. An array of weapons arrayed against a single weapon with a single mind and body to execute its use.

Pain suffered must be repaid in its fullest measure.

Drask smiled morbidly, a dangerous expression of no longer caring.

******************
I am become Death, shatterer of worlds.