just wondering

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Are people running the WolfPack games again, like in old days? If so I might want to get on that train, ifin anyone would want Kinshasa to come bak.. Assuming anyone knows who she was...

Posted on Nov 28, 2005, 8:57 PM

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A Whisper in the Wind

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Ghaleon..


Wind swept through the Barrow Hills, and rolled down the trade lanes down Harpers way. Twisting and twirling all its way through the revitalized arms of the mighty Vallenwood, then down on through the silent tranquility of the prairies which sat outside the doorstep of the capital city, Stormbreak. The cool wind crept its way, winding through back alley, past merchants, beggars, and thieves. Around brick and construct, through the muck and mud, up to a window sill where the assassin sat perched, watching the city fair for itself. His eyes, those chocolate orbs, dissolved beneath heavy lids a shiver ran down his spine. Merely perhaps from the wind, or was it something else? Some other feeling that nibbled at his mind. Regardless, these were not such times to worry of petty thoughts.

Unbeknownst to many of the Guildlings, certain acquisitions were made under capricious speculation, or more so trade secrets. What precious gems of information, what king’s fortune the assassin paid, never any shall know. However, all came to order and light a near week after mithril was found in abundance on the isle of Kira’vath. Kira’vath, the pearl of the southlands seas, with its lush tropical weather, endless beaches and vast jungles, once a mere resort for Pirates and sell-swords to hide their plunder, now a thriving mining camp. With four stout and sturdy boats and Captains true to their word as well without spirit for ale, the newly opened Danglers Shipping Co. began supplying passage and wares to those flooding the tiny island.

It hadn’t taken long for Merric to follow the paper trail nor know who was behind the treachery. As he lived off his portion of fat Stormbreak had to offer the Guilded thief lord, his eyes blurred to those events happening right out side his field of view. The Tradeways Shipping Company had several boats either turns up unfit to sail because rotted boards or molded sails, or other such plagues as ship inspections hampered trade. As well their Captains were known for enjoying good ale or twelve, one couldn’t operate a vessel much less guide it to the right island when they themselves were three sheets into the wind. The final stroke or plague to steal the wind from the Broken Daggers sails was the odd sea storm that rose up from the southern seas and stuck a deep blow to the docks of Stormbreak. The weather raged, the wind howled, and the rain pelted both man and wood for nearly three weeks… When the thunder had barked its last rumble and the lightening struck down its last brilliant bolt to the dockside causing small places here and there to catch a flame, few ships remained, the four fastest belonging to Danglers Shipping…

Who would think such a small turn of the tide had so much to offer to the veteran assassin and could steal so much in one blow from the leader of the Broken Dagger. The Guild Council saw no other way to turn but towards Ghaleon’s shipping company, who from four boats expanded to twelve in nearly twen months. They tripled the supply and surplus of goods and explorers they could deliver as if over night. It was his will, and his will alone that controlled the docks. It was as if after sending his only child off, the cold venire returned to give the assassin the shine he had once lost. When the council convened, it was indeed a house divided. Sitting at either length of the table resided a side, at the right sat Merric, always at his side the always reticent slayer of men, Drae numerous other agents of the Dagger dotted the walls behind them. Upon the other end of the table sat Ghaleon, Bellowban Bowhide the Minotaur stood stoic and ever ready. With her one good eye the hedge witch Morna, lurched over the small frame of the boy come to be called “Mouse”. Continually her gaze shifted back and forth from party to party, watching the crowd with both one blue eye, and one clouded white eye. The child, Mouse, kept quit as it wasn’t his place to speak on these adult matters, as well he shouldn’t have been allowed in the first place. Fear always rested at the nap of his neck and sweat beaded on his palms sitting there. He nearly felt like springing out of his skin a number of times when a councilman would call to him for a drink of snack. Then there was the factor of another, an ever present shadow lurking within the darkness. If ghaleon ever had a guardian angel or watcher, this one held the mantel. For one that could only see the light, she was his eyes when all lights faded to darkness. Moments at a time he caught a glimpse, a window to a view of such serene beauty it caused his heart to patter past a single beat. Even he was not immune to the skills she possessed.

So it came to pass, the veteran usurped what was rightfully his from the eager hands of the neophyte. What was taken was returned, his seat at the council, all privileges which were stripped as well the brash young thief was given order to apologize, and so he did with words spitting past locked teeth of disdain.

Still as the wind brushed past the assassin’s ear, it carried a name, a whisper to a thrill long past any days he could remember, past the recent scuffs and scuttles he had with “the lady” Jesswin. Further back, to a time and place he was still unsettled about returning to. One could lock and bind memories within unbreakable chains. However, the emotion was the key which caused the chains to fall off, one by one, the key which opened all the locks to his mind and heart.

So much regret, so much sorrow built over years of doubt and miss-giving. Never could an opponent’s blade hurt him as much words cast from wanton lips. Those dazzling chocolate spheres fell from the horizon as his head bent towards the small pattern his finger traced within the wood, a sun blazing afire locked within a runic summoning circle. So ironic was this time it brought a smile to his face, amid the ever present dampening feeling of remorse that weighed upon his chest, a smile in mockery to the truth. All his life he would fight for that which he wanted, that which he loved. Only for such items to crumple within his tight grasp, never holding on tight enough, then when it crumpled, he grew bitter and cast the pieces away and roared to the heavens.. Nonetheless, such rage would boil over and recess, then swell like the tides and rush over the brim of his consciousness once more, till it left him with nothing more then exhaustion and misery.. Subtle comforts were entertained to remove him from this rumpus. So he spent the time and watched his daughter grow, watched her fumble and stutters her first steps, watched her pick her first pocket and scribe her first article. Her accomplishments did bring a glint and glitter of joy into the emptiness he created. Such good times could not last till the end of his nights. Before he could blink an eye’s lash the time had rushed past him. Shiana was now a woman, and she would not rest within a den full of thieves and cutpurses. It took a week or so for that sinking feeling to lurk back within his doorway, that feeling of emptiness, remorse and loss. That feeling he knew and despised, that feeling, that emotion that could be only linked with one memory, one face..

So the strong steel of Spinsheath, and the cold aura of the Talon were summoned to his side to help hew a new path for the thief. Tired had he grown of waiting for death or a memory to return to his door and finish what they had started long ago.. If death would seek him then he wished to meet it on such terms, out and abound, within the open air. Not sulking over what was lost and never gained from choice after choice in errs. In little then four months past, those that mistook the assassin for long lost and worn well, had been played the fool and taken for all the coin they could spare and more. Now was the time, the time old flames rekindled and roared, now was the time the man would live up to the legends, and prove to all, why many were fearful to lurk down the side streets of the Vipers Nest…. Alone….



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
o.O.c: More to come, so dont think this the end of a tale.. just a few troubles stirring within the city politically.. game on..



Posted on Apr 16, 2004, 11:57 PM

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New rp location:

by I think I brain my damaged!

Silver Crossings

Posted on Mar 28, 2004, 12:43 PM

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Is wolfpack out of the running as a guild? ( No Text )

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No Text Dummy!


Posted on Mar 5, 2004, 2:05 PM

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Opening Gates Once Closed

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Cold whispers filtered through the crowd that seemed somewhat taken aback by Maybus' anouncement. Who was Munroe? When did she have control. What did she look like. Was she as indomitable as Maybus. Copper brows lifted as she stood behind the drapes & tapestries that were hanging behind Maybus as she made the announcement. Her jade colored eyes flickered as every whisper of doubt was caught within her ear. Her lips pressed together and she crossed her arms. She was unsure whether her return to control would be well recieved. As Maybus stepped aside she decided she would not show herself just them. Let them talk...banter...and doubt what she knew to be an era where greatness would surround the Hall. Only it would have a new name.. a new purpose..and its success would cause a fire to spread amoung the people of the realm. The first three days following the tournaments end, were filled with bustle. The iron gates that closed off the land surrounding the keeps structure were pushed open and the doors to the hall were left unlocked. The Keeps defenses of old were lowered, and their precence was still cold and deadly was felt, but it would not be as threatening as it once was. A massive advertisement went out on thick vellum to every man & woman in the realm, be they of poor or rich stock, that positions within the Halls walls were open for the taking. And those that would fight in the army she was constructing would also be welcome. She was organizing on a grand scale and had many plans that she needed to act upon. Another missive went out within the Hall itself by the Mistress' own hand. To the members of the Hall, she requested a meeting with all who wished to stay on under her control, that very night.

She sat upon the throne like chair on the dias in the main Hall. Her firey mane of locks hung vibrant against her creamy face. From her neck to her toes she was litteraly wrapped in bands and straps of black leather, her sword was sheathed next to her in its floor mount and her hand rested upon it. She looked like a valkyrie, ready to lead the dead to valhalla. Her jade eyes on the doors to see who would come to her first..who would show their loyalty and commitment. And so she sat...waiting

The Realm of Arcadia would hear of the shift in power of one of the more known houses in the (East Wing Castle Realm - we really need a name) and it would cause a ripple. A missive also reached those of the Pelanese Karandian Teuton and Vennish houses...that the Lady Vryçe Griffinsbane wanted to speak on the subject of trade between the realms.


Posted on Dec 9, 2002, 10:47 AM

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Dirty Dealings Dockside

by Munroe Isadora Vryçe Griffinsbane




She had sat inside at the wharf with the fat balding man for better half of the day. The smell of salt water logged wood assaulted her nose for the one thousandth time. She would not bend on her offer for the deeds to the docks and port in a whole. The man owned every dock that had a ship, save one. It was said that no one owned the dock that the Ghost Ship was stationed. Her jade eyes narrowed on him and he frowned at her. Her voice was crisp.
"I will pay you the sum offered Tavist.. no more no less..or those dirty secrets you have may just yet come public."
He frowned at her and shook his head. He had never liked dealing with her.. and had exhaled easier while she had been gone because he knew that the secrets she knew of would not be revealed.
So he had owed her a boon, and she was asking for it with payment of his livelyhood. 2 large skiffs 3 schooners a cargo ship and the deeds to the docks he owned plus the wharf and holding buildings and the office to the shipping company she now owned.
Tavist slung his head and stood defeated. He signed everything over and snarled at her. She had made a lifelong enemy...But she cared less...she had gotten her wish..and now had the beginning of her new reign started. She jingled the key ring...she couldn't wait to tell Zeigfried...Her jade eyes narrowed and she pulled the cowel over her head covering delicate features...she steppedout onto the docks... It was an hour and a half past sunset 30 more minutes and she would be meeting with one of the Gemini.. her eyes glittered and she leaned against a building in the dark of night waiting for the elven woman to appear.

Posted on Dec 2, 2002, 4:24 PM

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When Doves Cry

by Ataylia Darcella



The wind did not move that full moonlit night save to not disturb the haunting melody that lifted from the elven woman's lips. Turn away, for the sound of an elven funeral song would drive the listner to tears, it mattered not if you could understand the words, the tonings and feelings beneath the notes were enough.

The party was gathered about what was soon to be a blazing pyre. The elven woman standing in the center, singing the moon, her face lifted and eyes closed. To her right, elmarin, the thief who accompanied Ataylia down to the underdark. To her left, the human Darius supporting a blonde elven man who could at this point barely stand. Behind them all, stood two female drow. The matron mother Mahret Milhonestra, and a guard that had accompanied her. All, severly battered and bruised as it were.

The lilting voice of Ataylia ceased and she lowered her head, gripping the sword she held tightly, it's tip burying it's self lightly into the ground as she twisted. It was her father's sword, one Akandra had been given to carry.

Thoughts flooded her mind. The slain dryder laying to her left, clutching her twin's hand and supporting her head. It was Akandra who made the final blow to the banished dark elf, taking her father's sword and plunging it through his gullet with the last bit of strength she had within her now frail and broken body. Her bloodied hand gripped Ataylia and pulled her down, closer as she tried to speak...

"Tell Shiana I loved her and that I wanted to get to know her. There were so many things I wanted to show her. So many.......... Ataylia................... "

Ataylia bit her lower lip hard and forced herself back into reality, forced herself to look up at Akandra's lifeless form laying upon that Pyre, and seeing only herself. She wished it was herself. But.....

She swallowed hard and forced back tears. She looked back to Mahret, and pushed the sword deep into the ground...walking towards the drow and holding out her hand for the torch....which the matron handed over.

She simply nodded and walked towards Akandra. Shaking her head, and speaking in the common tounge so that all may understand...

"Now, I send you to the stars....Rest well my sister..."

And she set the pyre ablaze...stepping back as the kindling took spark and not turning until it was a roaring bonfire...

She turned then to those gathered. Looking first to Darius and the elf Legolas.

"Your assistance is appreciated. If ever you need my assistance...do not hesitate to find me..."

She placed her fist to her chest and gave a small bow. It was cold and short. She was grieving, and was not about to cry in front of strangers. The pride of this elf overwhelming all politeness... Even as the two turned to depart.

She then turned to the two drow...

"Usstan bel'la dos, Mahret. Abbanen verve ssiggrin alus phuul natha belbol. Ka rin'ov dos phuul wun ssrig'luin d'ussa, xun joros, ussta abbil."

Ataylia once more placed her fist to her chest and gave a bow. Mahret and her companion doing the same in turn and replying before turning to leave...

"lueth dos izil al, Ataylia..."

And finially...she turned to Elmarin. The elven thief walked to her, and wrapped arms carefully about her battered and bruised frame. She stood there a min...resting her chin on his shoulder, swallowing hard to keep up her composure before speaking.

"You, I will get in touch with soon. Right now I need to be alone...I will tend to my sister's ashes come morning..."

He released the hug, and asked carefully. "Are you sure?"

Ataylia nodded yes. And he in turn nodded as well. "Very well...until the next time we meet"

And with a flourish of a bow as he was apt to do, he turned...and walked away from the burning fire.

Ataylia's back was to the flame, and as soon as all the adventures had departed...she dropped to her knees.

The huntress wept.




Posted on Nov 11, 2002, 7:54 PM

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Re: When Doves Cry

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"GHALEON.. GHALEON.. GHALEON....GHALEON..."

: But a name billowed through the winding stairwell of the Weary Wyvern as hurried feet forced the runner further and further. The oaken door of his study flew open with undue haste, which spurred the assassin to attention. The minotaur stomped within, a grievous palor adorned his brow as he stood forth.:

"Why indeed Bellowban come in old friend..."

:What humor laided upon his lips dried with the drips of saliva which beeded there.. His eyes sank and heart faultered at the words which fell from the minotaurs lips.. Twas like a tragic play one was forced to watch, he could not turn away nor drown the words away with the water of a hundred seas.. :

"Ataylia?"

"Word says she be fine, as well many others in her company carry wounds... and.... one was lost..."

: The assassins hand cupped his mouth as he turned within his chair. The mightly vallenwood which supported his frame creeked and groaned as in discomfort as he looked abroad.. His eyes, lost as was his thought for the moment at such news..:

"I shall tell her.. Fetch Feldwick I care not if he wants his rest... "

"Ghaleon..... Ghal?"

: His head turned slowly, like an old man whom missed the question at hand:

"Yes? What.. what is it.."

"Will yae be alright? For the moment.."

: Dabbing the corner of his left eye with a finger he rose, what wabble within his knees faltered his demeanor of a constant stoic resolve was not enough to show what lurked within his heart...:

" I shall be fine Bellowban... Now fetch our horses..."

:Shimmering locks of a golden hue appeared silver within the light the moon bathed the world within. Tiny fingers sat propped beneath a stout chin as a childs eyes gazed towards the stars.. :

"Come in father..."

:As silent as he wished, he could never be silent enough for the keen ears of an elf. :

"Its past yae bed time M'dear.."

"Oh father, please dinna scowl me. Something merely made me stir, and, and I saw the stars this evening. In all their brilliance. I could not look away.. Forgive me.."

"There is no need for forgiveness child, nae an offense was done.. "

:She kept her back towards him as the young elf continued to stare in admiration at the endless canopy of lights above her. He could not leave the shelter the shadows wove for him so tenderly, such a shelter hide the tears streaking down his cheeks.:

"Come join me father? Please.."

"I canna.. Shiana.. Shiana...I've.."

"Yes father?"

:Turning her head notched to the side in an inquisitive nature as she looked towards him..:

"Why do yae hide.. Be something wrong..."

"Shiana... we must leave this eve.. Get ready... We must leave within the hour.. "

:With that he turned cold towards her, his feet were already prancing towards the door as her tiny fingers snatched the cloak at his back:

"Father, wait.. Wait....."

:With a twist on the spurs of his feet he snatched her within his hands and nelt aside her.. The coarse feel of his fingers covered her eyes as he placed a kiss upon her forehead..:

"Shhhhhh.. Do not question darling.. Please.. Just prepare.. I will be waiting downstairs..."

: They had cut halfway through the countryside within the shade of night, however, now dawn was cresting over the looming Vallenwood. The Vallenwood, whos arms once so strong and raised now sank in defeat to the changing of the seasons. Submissively the massive arms bent down towards the earth, bare of leaf and life, they stood there like empty columns. The trio spoke little that day, little other then small words from the assassin which sounded more like commands. The silence was broken that evening when they stopped to camp.:

" Something is amiss.. I can tell it. Neither of you will speak. However you wear that long face, and the minotaur still canna stop slobbering from his nostrils. Though you wish to keep me locked up I'm no more the child you wish father. I've grown and in doing so deserve to know where we travel and for what reason. I will not be treated as a lesser or as luggage."

:She stood over them waving a large soup spoon and holding a tiny cauldron of bubbling broth as she gave lecture. The minotaur wiped his nose at the comment and kept the bowl held out within one paw, hopefully this would end and they would eat. The assassin lowered his head as he placed the bowl with his lap.:

"Shiana... your mother.. She died... she's dead Shiana.. She fell in battle, and I wished to take you to her grave.."

:Rage filled the child as she motioned the spoon towards him and spit condescending words in vile retort:

"And you would not tell me last night? You merely drag me out here. When did you wish to tell me father? When I stood over her remains? When father...when? I ask you a question and you do not answer.. She was my mother, and I was not there for her... "

:throwing the tiny pot and spoon down she darted off. The assassin wished to give chase however the contents of the pot spilled unto his lap.... :

"Guh.. shia.. Shiana..."

:She darted about the trees, dodging left and right, fleeing the darkness that shrouded her step. Tears coursed down her cheek, staining perfect cheeks with sadness.. Catching her foot upon a stone she toppled and fell..Arms consumed her as he held her tight..:

"Nnnnno.. no no no.. no..."

:words mingled and choked between tears.. Her hands outstretched, pleading toward the Gods who seemed not to care..:

"Shh... shhh.. child..."

: Aside the creek, arm in arm is where the minotaur found them. Huffing white hot air from his snout he picked up the maiden and gave the assassin a shove..:

"Well.. done are we both? M'lady?"

"Yes Bellowban.. I'm sorry.."

"Good... and you?"

"Ummm..yeah... "

"Good.. We've still a quarter a days ride... and I still haven't had dinner.. much less breakfeast... so if you both would get moving.."

: The trio rode the ten or so miles left within their trek, stopping at a tiny hamlet named Hommel. There they would rest. The assassin would take his daughter to meet her mother, for her first and last time...:









Posted on Nov 11, 2002, 9:36 PM

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Re: Re: When Doves Cry

by Ataylia



-Dawn approached, and the elf sat before what was the remains of a great pyre. She could not move, normally bright, silvery-blue eyes now reddened from the tears that had also stained her cheeks. She truely hadn't the heart to move, but forced herself to her feet to prepare the grave for her sister, for her twin...the one who's conciousness always remained with her...and suddenly, she truely felt alone.

She worked long and hard, until the sight was cleared. Fending it off as well against scavengers and curious beasts.

She had no idea word had already spread of their victory and loss, and so when Ghaleon's party would approach, they would find the huntress..sitting once more in that same spot she had the night before-


Posted on Nov 11, 2002, 10:00 PM

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Through the Looking Glass...

by Ghaleon...



Ghaleon..




: The cry of the Willowick Bird stirred the assassins thoughts away from the pains of his mind a moment. His worn fingers rolled from about his furrowed brow as a sign creased his lips in exclamation. Soothing fingers massaged his temple as he watched the twin suns make their descent marking the end of each day. The hours were growing shorter, he felt the seasons change within the air. Alas, much change did come. His daughter grew up before his very eyes. A smile snuck about his stoic grimace as he day-dreamt of her. A childs innocents, their laughter, their clumsy first steps. How he, alone could give something such direction. How such power grew to fear at this moment.:

: Much did come with the seasons change, with the bitter chill in the air, he felt it, as well it was evident behind those chocolate orbs so many fell prey before. Age seemed to be catching up with him alas. His hand closed the journal slowly, with enough care to not crush the quil still stuck within marking his page. Her room would be empty soon. Soon there would be no racket of playful banter between her and the Minotaur, her nurse and nanny. There would be no more dress up, there would be no more education. Twas time for her to learn and learn on her own.. This was what the assassin feared. :

:One can teach a child all they wish however, some believe that none the less if they wish they will stray. He kept her from his art as best he could. However, how can one remove a child from such an element when the childs house is nestled within its heart. Shiana learned how to coax a bit coin from a man's pocket before she knew how to spell. She learned the ales and spirits behind the bar before she knew how to sew.. She was her fathers daughter. Alas the most he feared was not the decisions she made. Moreso, the name she carried with her. Those whom held the assassin in ill repute would strike at her. Any man not a fool would indeed see this was his exposed heart. Indeed it was. :

: A slow wind rustled through the windy alleyway's of the Nest as he stood before his balcony doors. The suns were fading, and darkness would soon creep back into the land for but an evening. It would be soon enough.. Soon enough they'd come... It mattered little, he was becoming complacent. After long days of strolling through the nest he merely wished for his bed.. At times he lacked the drive to greet most of his guests.. Time had caught up with the grand assassin... His narrowed eyes watched as the candles flame flickered and danced.. Danced a dance he forgot the steps to.. and for once in a long time. He wondered if another still looked towards the flames, and though of him as he did her... :

:With but a puff of air from his lungs, the flames did extinguish.. Tomorrow was but a new day.. A new day, what ever would it bring?



Posted on Nov 3, 2002, 10:47 PM

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A question....

by Stranger......

A single question is scrawled upon the message surface. The writing, is undeterminable in origin.....
Not so much a single trace of a scent is left. The shadow that was the creature, moved in, and out, without a sound, and withough beeingn seen.
"Does Wolfpack yet live....?"

Posted on Jan 13, 2002, 8:29 PM

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Nope. <n/t>

by Anonymous

.

Posted on Jan 15, 2002, 4:17 AM

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what'sup...

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hello my name is samantha but my friend's call me sami'am at school too but it's okey and what'syour name is you a boy or a gril and just asked okey becausec i mat what to be your friend on catline todayokey..by.sam

Posted on Aug 8, 2002, 10:05 AM

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Shelter...

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: The wind swept path through the Vallenwood aided not the wounded form of the last to escape the Assassins onslaught. A deep crimson saturated the black cloak that none would ever precieve. Legs strained and burnt to push forth through this darkened night. Fighting with each step. Whom knew what predator strode amongst this hollow woodlands. The cries of wolves and other beasts echoed around like a banshee's cry. Stumbling, the fallen leaves crumpled as hands scurried to force her form to rise once more. Wisking back the cloak, undaunting locks of ravens black hair pooled freely about the neckline. The woman's face stayed strained, hampered from the wounds delivered by a hidden foe. There had be some sort of shelter here, a retreat or hermits dwelling? She'd wandered for nearly an hour before she saw the shadowy enterance to what seemed a cave.. Pushing fowarth, she proceeded to enter. Her arm wounded past the point of holding her footman's mace properly. Slipping inward into the stone edifice she saught shelter, and that.. Be what she found..:

:The long corridor ran someways, stopping at a wooden door, she nearly had the strength to wedge it open, before she colapsed inside.:

:Morning struck, as she slept in a hazy slumber, lost to the pains of the wound and numb from bloodloss. She awoke near noon. With what strength she had left, she spoke aloud, calling words to her lips that had little meaning to those nae among the arcane. Extending her free hand it alight with a blue flame, only to be extinguished upon the wound which sat festering.. Miraculously, it started to heal as if it twas never there.. Rising slowly she searched her surroundings, this place once seemed to be a haven for a group of thieves and brigands. Weapons were strewn about, the place seemed looted.. Moving from room to room she found a table and chair. Taking a moment to relax, she searched her wares. Procuring a green crystal, it was layed before her. More words fluttered to her lips as the crystal sat upright by its very self and hand begun to spin.. A face appeared within the glowing light.:


" Flayd... "



"M'lady Malacite.. Yae've been gone long.. Is thy well"



"Mildly wounded. Tis nae the matter.. The ring hath escaped my grasps.. Move a faction of your troops within the city. Find that Ring.. I wish it not to escape us again.. Send forth for Grys and his Boon.. There are manors along the edge of town we can inhabit for a price. Away from prying eyes.. Seize them.. Keep thy mark off thy units. I wish not for us to be detected. He whom stole the ring needth not be alerted yet. I wish to spring a trap on this would be thief.."



"It shall be done M'lord.. Tis there another wish?"



"Send forth my steed to the woodlands.. It shall find me.. I shall meet with thee on the eve.. Farewell General.."


:The crystal toppled to the oaken surface of the table as she broke the necessary concentration. Her amethyst eyes glimmered in the faint light as her lips pursed in a scowl.:


"I shall find that damned ring.. then the boy"



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

(Later that Day)

: Day had ceased and dusk fallen by the time the elegantly decorated war horse manuevered to the manor house. Dismounting, the woman was met with a bow from all those present. An armed escort of three sentries lead her to a her personal quarters. After she seemed fit and ready, she was brought to the main dining hall.
A large map was spread across the table, intricately all the surrounding lands about Stormbreak were sketched upon the thick papyrus. Stripped of her armor, Malacite strode about the table drapped in elegant robes and oppulent jewelry. Dangling from her neck sat a small crystal shard attached to a gold chain, for some reason. It stood out amongst the rest of the attire. :


"Have your troops found anything Flayd"



"Not at the moment M'lord.. With more time we shall have results.."



"Bah"

: She hissed as her lilthe form circled the table to stand nearest him:


"I wish results M'dear.. Not hollow words.. Have them turn up every thieves guild in this bloody city if need be. Have them dragged unto the streets and slaughtered. I care not.. I wish that ring found. As well the BOY.."



"My men are already searching for both tasks at hand Malacite..They shall produce results. I promise thee.."



"They'd better My Lovely... Or it'll be your head I rest before my palace door.."


:Thrusting one of the chairs it didn't seem to fully move beneath the table.. Her eyes narrowed as she looked towards her Man at Arms... Motioning silently beneath the table, they both knelt to see what was present..:


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

(Meanwhile)

: The local pubs seemed bursting with life recently, word of a death cult had spread. Others spoke of a raiding party come to unsurp King Stephan's crown. All seemed like tales of rubbish. One man seemed to differ in opinion however. Old Withersby continued to speak to a small crowd within the Tired Dragon Inn about how his vassel was sent to Thresshold a weeks prior, and not a word has returned. The old man spoke on foul play, and a legion hidden within the Vallenwoods. Many cast their doubts verbally at the old man, about speaking in lies and his aging mental state. He cried till his lungs ran dry with air..:

"believe me you fools.. believe. there is something wrong within our city state.. I warn yae!!"

:Nearest the bar a group of men armored with various weapons and dark platemail continued to shoot the elderly man irritable glances as they drank their meed. The woman tending to them was a fair maiden, nae older then her seventeenth year or so. She seemed to keep an open ear as to their conversation as well as to what they were ordering.:

"Bloody woman, Y'ae'd think she's got the lord enslaved to her the way she barks orders at him.."


"Keep it down Feston.. Nae need to put yae head on the chopping block.. If we find what she's lookin for then we'll be finished sooner.. and the sooner the better.."


"Why doesn't she go find it.."


"She tried.. got her arse whelped by some man.. Prolly a thief or something... Killed five of her priests.. Har har.. The nerve they had to call US savages.. Atleast we can best a simple thief.."


" HAR HAR.. that be true.. To wrapped up in their magicks to even know how to wield the steel properly.. Fools.. I heard she caught a good lashing.. Cross the arm and hip.. Ohh... hope that dinna scare the pretty.. HARHAR.."


"Quit you fools... Flayd could walk in here any moment.."


:The two boysterous men's heads turned towards another sitting amongst them.. His decorations were more fitting of an officer class then mere foot solider, his armor held a fine fit to his form, and would shine if not for several layers of weapon black upon it. Atop his head sat a helm decorated with the skull of some beast as the face plate.:


" Commander Grys.. We.. ehh.. we didn't nae see ya enter.. -standing-.. Sorry M'lord.. tis merely a heart yearning to go home.."



"We shall Thungbar... nae in such haste.. With haste things go foul... We shall see her plot through... I hold faint in our lord to do as he must, as well we should... "


:A woman lurched against Grys's right shoulder, completely hidden beneath an ebony cloak, the men seemed to glance at her for a moment then look away. Grys didn't even seem to make any form of direction or pay any care to her presence.. :


"Well gentlemen.. Enjoy your meals.. we shall continue our search within the morrow... Good eve.."


:Spitting Thungbar wished to comment beneath his breath:


"Thinks he's all tough cause he slew two hydra.. Bah.. to the nine hells with him and his bloody boon.."


: As he lifted his glass a dagger shattered the mug right within his arm.. Turning in a startled haste he caught the long milk white arm of the woman slinking back beneath the cloak as she marched backwards.. Her lord not inches away...:

:Thungbar grumbled and slammed his fist atop the bar in anger as he rose..:


Come louts... We're finished here this evening.."


Posted on Dec 10, 2001, 7:36 AM

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((step back from that ledge my friend))

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Lana swallowed hard as she served the men she was told to watch for drinks. Her heart raced, but her hands remained steady. Luckily, she could be stoic when need be. A wealth of information flowed from these men that she only hoped she could remember half of. For a moment she contemplating writing what she heard down, but it was a fleeting moment at that. Silly Lana doesn't know how to write. A frown pulled at the corner of her lips when she turned away to reach for a bottle. None saw, or felt it, save her. She kept her eyes low and her face apathetic publicly. With the life of what supposedly lived in her stomach on the line, she was being quite a good spy.



Charlton, as he was known, had a much more difficult job. With genuine consideration, he concluded trying to get inside of the houses instructed would be nothing short of suicide. He loved Lana, and who she carried, but he was hardly a man led alone a brave one. With hours of contemplation, a light bulb appeared in his head. The houses were wealthy, but still occupied the areas of busy streets and other public establishment of the borderline middle class.

Using some of the money he had been awarded as the first payment, Charlton went to the penny and dime shop. The old man who worked there had watched Charlton grow up, and knew him very well.

"Well hullo m'boy! You're looking mighty healthy if I do say so ma'self."

"Good day to you Grangle. I think I can part with a few pennies today in hopes to earn them back with what I buy."

"Going to be an entrepreneur-of-a-boy, are ya? Well what can I do ya for?"

"Well I think I'll start with a stool, a bag of rags, and a shoe polish... I don't know how shoe polish is sold. By the tin?"

"A shoe shiner! I never thought I'd see the day.

With a chuckle, old Grangle took Charlton around the otherwise unoccupied store. the young man left with a discounted green stool, a bag with about 20 rags, and 5 'tins' of shoe polish. Change still jingled in Charlton's pocket.

Setting up in front of the designated houses, Charlton had a good view of the comings and goings of the place. Hopefully he could get adequate information for this position to satisfy that ghost waif of a woman...and maybe he could make a few dimes while he was at it.

Only a few minutes went by before he had his first customer. Its times like this he's glad his father used to punish him by making him polish all the shoes in the house.

Posted on Dec 15, 2001, 7:22 AM

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Releasing the Hounds

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-At the old willow tree a half mile outside of the village near the castle, a young man and woman waited. Young in age but old in working years, both nervously busied their worn fingers with pieces of grass. 'Old grey' waved its long fingers in the lazy breeze, that apparently beckoned the offspring of the said source of all evil. Seemingly drawn by the wind that danced with the foliage of the small forest patch came the waif-like figure of maYbus. About her tiny frame was wrapped a heavily worn cloak. Not her typical apparel. The two mortal peasants swallowed hard at her hollowed gaze which they thought they caught site of underneath her lowered hood. The young man attempted to appear brave, but the bead of sweat on his brow revealed his intentions to be transparent.-

"Be'eth this the other?"
-the antichrist asked rather flatly-

"Yes, this is him."
-the young woman meekly whispered, taking a step forward.-

"Content'eth."
-Unnoticed before, maYbus tossed a pouch of coins at the feet of the couple-
"Thine payments fully shalt made be once task'eth be complete. Quality of work thine mayhap reflect upon a raise, or revok-ation of'eth payment. Ye, female, shalt watch and heed those who wear this symbol..."
-maYbus handed her a piece of parchment with markings inked in its center-
"...whom enter thine pub. Even those whom think ye now occupy the grand'eth homes surrounding thine establishment. Retain details any."

-turning to the young man, maYbus continued.-

"Aye ye shalt attempt, but wisest means thine nimble mind might, to enter homes thus. How'eth know not I...be this what gold buys mine. Suggest'eth I ye nae 'blow thine cover' as ye human's say, or'eth so much as utter where thine sudden pocket change originated."

-in conclusion, maYbus added-

"Aye if ye acquire the thought it doth not matter what side the coin lands upon if it be someone else's dime, the child ye carry, slut, shall be ripped from'eth thy womb and stapled 'pon his stomach. Come to this spot one'eth week from this moment. Survive."

-The woman staggered backward at the mention of the child she was even yet aware she carried, and the boy turned his sorrowed eyes to his 'love.' With no other option and fear in their hearts, they would do as they were told.-






Posted on Dec 8, 2001, 7:29 PM

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Two Jewels, but one Treasure.

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Two Jewels, but one Treasure


: Days seemed to blend into weeks, weeks into months. For the time being, Devin was kept on display. A 'treasure' among all the other artifacts the obease glutton that was Kraygor, had come to aquire. She served as entertainment at his feasts, the bringer of his wine and food, his slave. Though she was confined to his quarters, chained helplessly to his bed. Never did he force himself upon her, Atleast, not as of yet.. He did have a habit of letting his hands roam where ever he wished, but why not? She was his prize, the long lost daughter he never had.. Greedily his eyes would always move to her, as if deeply plotting her fate and future. :


:Late within the tidings of one evening a cloaked figured was dragged into the main room, Devin sat sparled out aside the jelatinous mass of Kraygor. Two his lackeys held the form up as the overlord barked out in a the deserts tongue.. Little was learned.. The persons items were stripped and taken.. The form, carried back out to the desert for the fates to decide.. Calling out lightly the large mans eyes glimmered as he looked upon one jewel among the many within this thieves pouch.. A small emerald bound with writing of gold. :

"Spider.. Come.. My quarters... Now.."

: It was not a wish, it was a command.. Devin was tugged behind him some feet, the chains dangling from his palm as the drow walked along the side of the obease figure.. Discussing something. She could only hear idle chatter.. some words they spoke on.. A endless amounts of gold.. Something about power.. And the words.. Eternity and lifetime.."

:After a short discussion the drow broke from the group with the jewel in hand.. The evening fell deeper to the grasps of night.. The moons rose and cast their eerie light upon the deserts sands.. The soundof a jostled window would awake the crimson locked thief, only to see that same cloaked figure approach. Kneeling aside her a set of azure eyes flickered to hers:

"here is a key.. find your freedom.. find your freedom and return the jewel to its alter..*cough* go.. go now.. save this land...please.."

:turning the figure darted back towards the window as footsteps approached.. a small trail of blood was evident .. The question was. What now, was Devin to do?:



Posted on May 20, 2001, 2:55 PM

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A Losers Hell

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A Losers Hell


: Drow, ogres, villians and thieves.. Such few words described the trade town of Almal'Rah.. It sat upon the fringe of this realm, Alasonia. Relaxing against the bar more to keep his form upright then anything, another tankard of ale was stamped to the counter, and the empty one removed.. A burp was all that proved he still existed.. The elven thief could not stand any around him, the many a drow held a stentch which only was as pugnant as the few ogre's and orcs lying about. If he had any fight left within him, t'would be atleast best to go after such villiany and to die a hero for his kind.:

"Bah.."

:His kind.. the very same elves who cast him out for a small 'misunderstanding'. Now he should make a stand in their name? Defend their honor? Twas not bravery.. Only foolishness.. Though never the wiser, he was content in sipping his ale till the day he died.. Stealing change purses and slitting the throats of those deserving. Lord did Lapwitch love his trade. More so he loved the seculsion this city provided.. When your surrounded by your 'element' there is no fear.. Like a big constant stand off. Almal'Rah was perhaps one of the safest cities to live in. If yae were keen enough that is.. :

:Such a silent repose and livelyhood could never be ruined. That is. Not until she walked in.. The smell of the unbathed drow fell away, even the ogre's stentch was wisked back by the smell of a perfume. Tugging the cowl further upon his brow, he wished to drown within the very shadows it provided.. Brand McKeely.. Sister to the reknowned. Devin McKeely.. Pirates and thieves by trade.. Would be foolish to stay. To waddle away the moments only till 'capture' no.. He would need leave, to find a new home. To get away from this girl and the troubles she brought. And folks thought the Il Quessir elf was a bad penny.. Rising, his back arched like that of a hunchback, waddling he went unnoticed even to the keen eyes of the Sister McKeely.. Then a voice rang out from the bar, so easily ruinning his guise, so easily removing the veil.:

"Wait one second love.. Yae can think of tossing me out o' bed early, but when yae drink one and a quarter pitchers.. Yae still pay for two Lapwitch"

:The crone at the bar was a sight. Not that horrible of a face, though she could of had a few more teeth.. Grumbling he was four feet from Brand meaning he was twelve feet from the bar, and a total of eight from the door.. The question was.. Run? Or stay..:



OOC INFORMATION:

hehe. this is jsut a quick introduction.. game on Bett Baby

Posted on May 20, 2001, 1:50 PM

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A Fest of Requiem (ATTN ALL FANTASY RPers!)

by









ome one, come all, and join us in a Festival of Lights to light up our spirits and pay
our respects to those whom perished by a deviled hounds assault. The proceedings shall start
early within the dawning hours of day, and continue till the twilight of night nestles
its hold upon the lands. Sing songs of
joyous times and hear tales from the greatest bards that hath ever walked these lands.
As well, a plentiful number of events have
been schedualed for the entertainment of all thoses appearing, both some to take place
in the hours of light, and others to take
place during evening. We do wish you to join
us in this momentous occasion, and you as
well. Find happiness and joy while within our company..

Here is but a listing of the Days Events:

Daytime Events:
Archery Contest
The Tower Climb
A Joust
The Ever Famous None Throwing Contest
The Dreaded Gauntlet


Nighttime Events:
A Game of Daggers (For all Rogues)
A Drinking Competition
The Dress Competition (For all the Ladies about)
The Magick Show (For all Mages/Clerics)

This is but a minute example of what shall
be present, revered artists shall be present
to paint portraits, jovial jugglars will
fascinate and entertain while they twirl
their lives on the very line. Even children
can have fun with our "Ride the Hill Giant Ride". So do come and take part in our Celebration,
and mourning..

Respectfully Yours,
Ghaleon


OOC Jazz:
First off. This Festival will be held ALL DAY
this SUNDAY. Thats correct.. ALL DAY I shall be around. SO please if you are interested.DO
stop bye. As for a room. THe castle is off
limits so we're looking another place to hold this. Probably All Hollows Eve. I'll keep you
all posted on that..

Secondly. If you wish to take part in any of
these events. PLEASE!! ICQ ME AT 50041267 or
email me and list which events you'd like to
take part in!!
For the rules. I shall explain them the night
of the event.

Other then that. I hope you all merely show.
This is just basically a little fun thing
for us all to take part in.. Game On.







Posted on Nov 16, 2000, 1:02 PM

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Please Read all minstrels bards and warriors!!!

by Munroe V-G :Festival of Crowns

To those interested in the Festival of Crowns..
There will be 3 contests...

The Song of the Crown is for Minstrels, find a midi of uncomparable beauty and put the link to it on the hall of darkness message board by tomorrow afternoon at 3 pm central. Judging will be done and the award will go to the best song IE:Minstrel.

The Tale of the Crown is for Bards, write a story of adventure, romance and intrigue and post it upon the Hall of Darkness message by tomorrow afternoon at 3pm. The stories will be judged and
the award will go to the best.

The Feat of Crowns is a test of skill and cunning within battle. All warrior contestants will have a flag attached to their armor. When the warror loses his/her flag he/she is disqualified. The last person standing shall be crowned King/Queen of the Festival of Crowns. The melee will be judged by the holder of the Feast and Festival, Munroe Isadora Vryçe Griffinsbane.
Visit the website at
http://www.geocities.com/festofcrowns/


Posted on Aug 25, 2000, 7:46 PM

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The Proceedings

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"As nightfall does not come at once, neither does opression. It is in such twilight that we all must be aware of change in the air. However slight, lest we become victims of the Darkness"











A new day had crested over the mountains, and he sat nestled beneath the heavy arms of the Vallenwood outstretched. His eyes roamed over each inch of the long stick he held within his palm. Though he remained serene with nature, his mind was of a different mindset. Much brimmed and flowed through his thoughts as he lay there. His leg still sat cast within the split a gentle heart found the moments to prepare for him. Out of all this, this mere twig remained the object of his attention and aspirations. Slowly he seemed to be concocting a design of sorts. This crude timber was but the building block from that which a true artisan of steel could step from to create a masterpiece. His attention was drawn however, as the summers vibrant leaves rustled and the haunting call of a Willowwick Bird sounded, he knew…. Riders approached. Two for that matter, each bares a crest alike each other. Both riders rode high and proud atop their steeds of ebony and white spots. 'Twas not till they were feet from where he sat, did their reigns tighten and the large beasts settled from their long strides to a settle before him. The first rider quickly dismounted. He was tall and gaunt, his skin a deep shade of almond and his hair a fair shade of cinnamon. A handlebar mustache aligned his upper lip and curled aside the edges of his lips. His eyes were a deep shade of sea green, and their depths seemed boundless. Cumbersome plate mail decorated for Court then battle adorned his form, from intricate knee braces to jeweled gauntlets of hazel and silver sparkled in the faint light. Finding a knee before the renowned Assassin his helm quickly fell to his hands as his eyes cascaded to the earthen floor. -

Baltazar: "M'lord.. Tis had been time since we have last spoken. Word I had received from V'Hare brought ill feelings across the Order. We truly believed you had perished from this world. I offer yae good tidings. "

-Ghaleon's hand motioned upward as a smile crossed his features. Quickly, Baltazar found words towards the wounds that inflicted his Lord-

Baltazar: " I see thou hast sustained many an injury since.. "

-His words fell short as the rogue slowly managed to rise, an arm was offered. However, with a moment of hesitation he merely whimsically smiled and fought to stabilize himself… Alone… -

Ghaleon: " I am well Kurigan… Worry not for my well being. At least not at this juncture in mine life. These wounds are nothing. Shall be gone within the week's end. Tell Me.. Why hath yae taken the voyage from Alasonia? Tis twen days sail on open winds, surely I'm nae missed?

Baltazar: " Tis where you go afoul M'lord. We wish your return. The.. The Order that be, as for the others, they shall follow in suit. Your elegance and charm have always worked its way over them indeed. Aye, we traveled upon a vessel known as the Coursayer. The captain is a trite fellow, very moody, much like the dwarves ways. Though he is of human blood. You perhaps would find him fascinating in his own right. All the more, time seeps from our day even as we stand here and speak. Algrath has seen to finding you a place within the Golden Dragons Inn.. A well known and run establishment I believe within this cities walls. Of course, only the highest of standards.."

-Once more Ghaleon's hand rose and his lips moved to interject the mans speech. Lifting his eyes tot he sky he stumbled and staggered till he stood aside the royal knight of Stormbreak and the steed. -

Ghaleon: "Wait. You wish me to return with you? To my lands, I…."

-Baltazar smiled as he moved to embrace the man, his armor clanked and flexed as his arms wrapped about the smaller mans back. -

Baltazar: " I know.. Happiness overwhelms yae. There be neither a need nor a reason to thank me for my actions M'lord Ghaleon. Tis a knights duty. Come. This Captain Hastings waits for us at Restwater Pier. From there we shall sail for a while. Tis then you can account your tales of chivalry Great One."

-If he didn't hold such high regards for the man, the Assassin would have laughed cynically in his face. Though his mood was different this morn, much more was at hand within his heart and mind to change his conduct. Simply pulled from the mans unearthly might, an inaudible groan came from his lips as the pains from within returned. His hand clutched the large warriors shoulder as he looked to the other rider -

Ghaleon: "Baltazar.. I.. I wish not to return.. I feel sorrow for causing you this journey.. It seems you've come across a continent for nothing. I wish not to leave here. Not now anyway. There is more for me here then merely dreams.. There's a whole life I've yet to live. "

-Scratching his head he tugged at the mustache upon his lips, he was known to do this when something vexed him or he didn't agree with the parties popular vote. Still, he stood idly for the moment and listened as the Assassin pontificated to him. 'Twas not till, all the lung was expelled from Ghaleon's lungs and his words silenced in the days air that he found will to respond.-

Baltazar: " So then you resign you post? M'lord.. The Order needs you. If not for them.. If not for them What of the people M'lord.. THEY NEED YOU. I can not stand here and listen to you prattle on about wishes you hold that seemed to stem from madness itself. Perhaps Lord Auldron was correct…. You.. You seek this woman. Your wife, I believe she be. For what? There is nothing correct? NO love. NO retribution. Nothing. Still you fight for her, as you fought before. Tempered and ill directed. Why M'lord? Tis answers I seek that shall staunch my questioning. "

Ghaleon: "Lord Auldron? Ha.. Let me tell you of the Dark Fae. And his true nature dear friend. He is a coward and not to be trusted as always was. He has found himself a new home within this realm and seemed to weasel his way into everyone's hearts or business.. Trust not all he issues forth. I shall find a moments time to conduct council with him myself.. As for the people. Yes.. I owe them. and shall always. Tis why I've come to my decision, nae as lightly as you wish to believe… However first.. The other matter you have so willing addressed publicly within the Court these trees hold over us.. Yes.. I have lost Munroe as my love. However, for how long? I shall never know. Only keep my post within these woods and wait. So.. As for Stormbreak? What is to become of it? I shall tell you Baltazar.. I will indeed.. There is another more fit then I. Kael shall succeed Me.. He will be notified as we return to the city limits. I shall speak with him. Alone? Tis clear enough? I will hold title till this festival is to end. Then I shall relinquish my standing to the boy. I leave him within your hands friend. Do care for him as I would. He is still young with years. "

-The warrior nodded, he seemed to be convinced by both the conviction within this warriors heart, and the power of his words. -

Baltazar:" If this be truly your wish. I can nae stand against it. I uphold your wish and shall see the boy sworn in myself. You are truly one of noble will and intent My King. I shall miss the days of serving at your side. Please. Do keep word with us. From the common to the Heads of the Seven House's daily wish to hear of your welfare. Do not rob them of what they crave. Such knowledge is what has kept the Capital together through thick and thin. With, and without you to lead it. As well, I give M'word, M'lord. I shall watch over your son and protect him. He shall stand at the head of all tables and rule as his father has. "

-Grabbing the reigns the large warrior mounted the beast and looked down to his fallen king, the idol of millions to worship, still only appeared within these lands as a simple peasant.-

Baltazar: " M'.. Ghaleon. Is there anything else I can help thee with? Perhaps some gold or plunder from the Capitols treasury? "

-Shaking his head he laughed faintly as his eyes rolled. The stick tapped against his hand as he looked to it then the warrior.. -

Ghaleon: "Aye.. Two feats. First... Procure a Magi and send word to Browwen Anvilsplith.. "

Baltazar: " The Dwarven Blacksmith within Stormbreak? For what reason doth we need his assistance M'lord? "

Ghaleon: "I wish a blade to be crafted… My last weapon of choice. I shall give the specifics of what I wish. Tell him and Cerius, they should work together on this task. I shall need it forged by the weeks end. Four days the latter should be well enough for me to be aquainted with its weight at least. As well, while I wait for this weapons arrival. I wish you to teach me to fight.. Please Kurigan. "

Baltazar: "Tell me M'lord. What is it you wish to achieve with this blade? Aye.. I shall.. Though I do not know why you wish? You've been known to dance with a blade so elegantly. I will not question."

-With a trim smile he tossed the stick aside he had taken to marveling over all day and ran a hand across the steeds mane.. His eyes light with conviction as his lips leered to a dark grin-

Ghaleon: " I intend to win Baltazar.. To win indeed… Now go. You have much to do. I shall venture to this in within the hour. Have my son waiting for me there. As well. I will need a set of.."

-For once the tables had turned, with a wide smile, the mustache seemed to crunch between his nose and lips as the man laughed-

Baltazar: "Worry not M'lord. I shall see to it. I believe we have what you seek within our wares. Aye.. Fair well till we meet once more M'lord.. Good Journey."

-With a yank of the reigns the beast reacted, and turned.. Entering a full gallop both riders paced each other down the small common trade path cut through the forest of the Vallens.. Shaking his head faintly he lifted his eyes deeper within the forest as he retreated as well.. -

Ghaleon: Thank you.. Then it is done.. For once.. All is put aside for another… Indeed I do question why…"

-Turning his cloaks billowed about him as he moved with steadily down the path. His injury, was another factor to deal with-

-Several Hours later. Within the arms of the Golden Dragons Inn-
-The assassin paced about within the room that was selected for him. His eyes continued to roam about the walls as he moved in a faint circular way… He seemed that of the great predatorial tiger, waltzing about the bars that captured it from his open life.. Only wishing one moment to spring free and strike his captor. After one hour of waiting the boy was brought forth. Dressed as he had always kept himself, Kael appeared as a young squire, dark leather bands bound together tightly, made up for what armor he didn't chose to wear. His eyes looked to the man before him as his lips curled into a leering grin. Shaking his head brown locks fell about his face as he pushed back his cloak-

Kael: " Why dear father. It pleases me to see you still breath. Shame I could not make the arranged burial. Though I see it would have been in true vain anyway. Aye? So, why hath yae summoned me? More trials for me to endure? More rites of passage to become a man? Or do you still wish this rogues path for my life? Whom should I kill or plunder father. Say thy name and I shall come calling."

-A his hand gestures and smirks were elaborately played out and slow. Still, his actions and mannerisms held more youth rebellion and mockery then actually strife within them. Still, his father was no impressed. Motioning towards the chair set forth for him he sighed and looked to his child. His son-

Ghaleon: "Sit.. We must talk. I shall not lie to either of us nor to any other and say I have lead the best of lives, nor raised my children in the ways I wished. You have lost a sister from the malice that swells within me. I care for you only to learn from my mistakes and grow child. For you hold the darkness as well within yae. Yae must learn to over come it as best as yae can, even better then I though I kept it held. I am a fool. Travel not toward my path or the same fate and misery shall befall you as well M'son.. Please. I tell you this with words of love, and genuine care as your father. I know you never wished to be a thief. Nor learn the trade in full, more so. I noticed how you took to the world I once left. How your eyes became as bright as stars. As you stood before all as the son of a King. I wish to offer you more Kael. An offer that bests any I've ever had. I. I wish you to rule the Capital. I wish you to control StormBreak. I have spoken to Baltazar, he will second my wish within the Courts Meeting. Yae shall speak on my behalf and for yaeself. Worry so child. For if you fail to convince them, the Heads of the Seven Households may elect another. Still, I believe in yae lad. I know you can lead the lands to times of greatness. Yae are smarter then me, and more fit for the roll. I merely lied to myself for several years thinking it was what I wanted for meself. All the time knowing, I wished to pass it on to a man more fit then I. Kael, son. That man be yae. Take the throne M'boy. Make your father proud. "
-Whatever wit Kael held seemed to slither and slink away as his eyes broke to tears. He bound from the chair his father told him to stay within. Wrapping his arms about his fathers neck, he cried both of joy and loss as he held onto the man for sometime. Slipping from his grasp he wiped his tears away and sniffed twice-

Kael: " If this is your wish father. Then I shall uphold it. "

-The assassin smiled once fully as he pulled from the boys tiny arms-

Ghaleon: " You shall return home after the festival. Till then I wish yae lay low. If anything is to occur. I wish you not to become involved.. Understood? Make me proud King.. Make all the lands proud. Now go.. I have other business to do, and you still have the life of a lad to live. Take care my son. I shall see you off, when you must leave."
- Nodding the boy started to retreat as he kept his eyes upon his father. A smile crossed his lips as he moved from the room and for once held a meaning within his fathers eyes. -



Posted on Aug 24, 2000, 12:31 AM

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:: Casualties of a Loving War::

by .........







- The animal folk of the forest froliced and fumbled about as the shadowed tendrils of night slipped over the land. Spilling into every knook of a tree or rocks. There was a deadly silence to the air this night. The wind nae whistled through the trees, as the owl did not give forth its nightly call of "Hooo.. Hoo.." All seemed out of place. Yet. The silence was comforting in a way...

A small fire was set within a circle of rocks, a small leather pouch laid before the burning kindling contained several powders and resigns. All lone, basked in robes of ivory a figure sat.. Waiting till the moon reached the wolves howling point. Till it stood the pinnacle within the nights air. Twas then the figure rose.. As did the wind.. Faintly at first.. Thin hands cut forth from the sleeves. The form was definately of a man, thin and old.. It would be near impossible to see through the darkness within his cowl, as if the absense of light was not all that let ones sight fail.. Kneeling before the fire, the figures head sank.. Recounting the words needed, it rose and cast its hands viciously within the sky. A powder dashed with this motion and sprang to the fire, causing it to roar and rise with a hollared pitch.. Arcane words fell to the forests "eyes" and ears as it called out..-

"Calash shamere ventris motemor.. Dalkenev seshinor Muerte de.. Muerte de.. novous tenebre.. Sangre dres... Malestrous... nestletabre.. "

-A sound echoed through the forest, merely lingering within the swirling air.. Then slowly it seemed as if the ground was moving, or better yet. Crawling.. A thousand and one insects came to their lords call.. Spiders weaved silken threads, as carpenter ants carried tiny knick nacks within their mandibles.. Silk worms as well spun a "thread" as pill bugs acted like spools.. This grotesque dance continued through the hours, till a creation sat before the fire... With their work done the four legged and eight or more creepy crawlies seemed to slither and slink back to the recess of the darkness.. One hand took forth the "present" as jade eyes fell from the cowel.. Letting it go, it seemed to levitate before the figure.. Tossing more of the dusts and brews within the fire, words of tempest nature cried to the night as this fevered dance continued..-

"Albashar venus tunabre maltives otro.. maltives eelbre... calinoose e'noch hesre mo' tre des... calamar'ti umbrada.. Eletrata.. Deness... "

-what ever flames caught the item before this weaver of the arcane, seemed not lend a marring sign upon it.. With the words cast and the spell in place, a hand dismissingly cast towards the item.. It flew then through the wind. Carried on a maelstrom of billowing wind.. Merely to land upon the doorstep of the Hall, faint seconds into the day of a young girls Fifth birthday.... Resting silently was a victorian doll, dressed in affluent robes of crimson, and a dress of vermillion.-



OOC: okay. .for all that are dying to know.. Here is how the spells went..

Control Weather. (ie the turbulent wind)
Summon Swarm (The ants and all)
Enchant Object/Protection spells (duh. the doll)

anyway. if anyone inspected the dool it would seem made of the highest quality. All the "powers" of the doll are of good intent and will protect the child its meant for.. There is no malice nor ill will seen in these actions, hence no reason for the spirits to get their panties in a bunch. L just a harmless gift... Play on folks. L


Posted on Aug 11, 2000, 12:47 PM

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Untitled

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that was deep i thought that it was the bigining to a great story (it could be you have the makings of a good wrighter) i wright but the things i wright are a little different <see i wright romance novels there pretty good i supose>

Posted on Aug 16, 2000, 6:51 PM

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..And did the fae dance...

by Lady Durken

...deepened wood of darkest night.. did moonlight shine upon it all. When spy I might within the Wood, the fae's that danced, with song. Merrily they twirled and swooped. Shifting in and out of treelined gloom. From mine hiding, did I spy.. the dark one standing ildy by...

'what's this?' my mind did venture in thought. 'The dark fae lead the rally forth?'. Upon the stones the fae did wander, held held wide, a laughing gesture causing his frial chest to heave. No sickly smell touched mine drift.. nothing of the dark one jarred mine soul.. this form before me, was like yet not the one I thought I'd known..

'Tis time!' The dark fae bellowed forth. Voice of strength and power indeed. Causing mine steps to faulter backwards. Tumbling down did I come.. Falling into deepest dark.. the fae around, stopped thier dance..

-Durken sat upright within her bed. Sharkha had left a while before. Slowly she slipped her naked from from the bed, her hand wrapped within the bandages still, where her finger had been removed. Of course she remembered what she'd done. She shivered slightly, and looked around. The dream so very clear within her mind. As she set pen to paper to record it. This was the second dream she'd had, concerning V'Hare. Something was indeed amiss. She known it all along.-

-Darklit had once more returned, and watched her from his corner. Faded from sight, of course. His concern for her sanity was plain to see, but where could he turn? to whom could he trust? a thought.. a whisper.. and he knew the answer.. the dark mage.. his smile burned bright within the darkness.-

-She set her pen aside. Only two she could trust within the pack. Blade and Sharkha.. and that was putting it mildly. It was time to bring in her own hand picked people. As silent partners in this time of turmoil. She stood, and put out the latern.. returning to her bed..-

Posted on Aug 2, 2000, 11:46 AM

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Held Up...(Attn. V'Hare Auldron)

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****just before noon, a stumbling and bumbling young elf appears trailing from the bushes of the forrest, his chest heaving with the heat of fear and apprehension****

***upon actually finding one of the den's many fool doors he gingerly places a handwritten letter of sheepskin upon it's oak centerpiece and quietly limbers off into the wood***

Upon reading the letter, the blood gracing the top left corner of the letter might seem strange, but..considering who it's coming from and how it's for, nothing can ever be too strange.


Sir Auldron,

"I believe I have something of yours, he is....to say the least...one of your lap dogs of war.
He won't speak, as to even tell me his name....and it would seem the only time he opens his mouth is to spit at my guards, and frankly I'm tired of it....
So good sir, I'd be much obliged if you would come and pick up this foreign trash and take him from my lands...

Why would I ask for you to come and get him yourself???

Simply put..
Everyone dreams of meeting a legend..

Z.S. Leiu

Posted on Jul 30, 2000, 11:24 AM

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.::Artisans of Fate::.

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Much after all had chosen to leave his company the Dark Fae took work on what would be his grandest creation.. With such unspoken intimacy he etched each rune to the very tip of the blade.. The pommel was that of a wraith, known as an unholy being of true bitter hate, encased within its "hands" a tiny white pearl that seemed to shine with unparalleled brilliance. Each holding a meaning in his kithian tongue, his lips spoke them on false air never passing over blank lips. His eyes remained affixed as even the last words were carved unto the cold surface… Placing down the small chisel he wiped his brow, and rested back.. His work was done, now only the will of others and the hands of fate would carve the paths of the future.. Little was left for him to do. However, he did note he'd need continue to quaff such that ungodly concoction which kept him fueled with the threads of the dreaming…The dagger held a startling décor all its own, quickly bundling it within a leather cloth he placed it among this things.. Now was not the hour for its need.. Twin crimson pearls the rose to the faint pillars of moonlight that selectedly filtered to careen over him. =-

"Lord Oberon.. I seldom found the hour to call need to yae. Still… Tis the very hour of necessity that I wish your powers to guide nae only my hand and will, but the will of another. Kara Aliana, and aid us with our task no matter how unjust our intentions fair… Watch over us, and keep us all from danger.. Praise be toward yae M'Lord…"

-= With such silent prayer, he then rose.. Such a frail form moved with distilled grace as he moved to the quarters he chose for himself.. Passing through the makeshift sliding door. He faded from the watching eyes of the darkness about him..=-


Posted on Jul 29, 2000, 12:46 AM

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Among the Vallenwood (Old Post)

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Twas the witching hour, the congregation amassed deep within the troubled bows of the tall, looming Vallenwood.. Here, among the settled rocks and forest floor stopped an army of both common and royal. All joined to pay homage to one lost from this world. Kin of the Pack stood encircling the small box of oaken wood. Four torches alight the seen for all to watch.. The hyme of prayer alerted fae and pixie kin alike. The forest was alive about those who chose to make themselves known, and those whom wished nae to be seen.. As the Dark Fae began his serenade of words, a faint wind picked up. Even the slightest of hearing could swear a tune whistled on the tips of the wind.. Twas the sound of a carnaval. Still, the Fae continued.. bringing words from the depths of his heart to life before all. So little he spoke seemed to encompass a man so well.. =-

"It is in this hour, we lay our brethren to rest.. Finally, he shall find the peace in death he yurned for in life... I find it hard to wretch words free to describe a man so colorful.. He lived a life of excess, laughing in the face of danger, and living adventurers that some only dream of.. However, I shall not pain the picture of a Martyr.. Ghaleon was nae one. His own wit would prove truthfully be he present to hear my words.. Still, never has thine eyes seen a mortal man so willing to rest everything on the line for all but himself... Dear friend. May the heavenly fathers watch over you.. Even in your darkest of hours.. May you as well. Watch over us and bring use guidance in memories lost.. Fare thee well M'lord.. "

-=He kneeled slowly, a gauntleted hand etched small runes into the soil as he spoke with curved tongues.. Rising he crossed the etchings and stepped slowly, left foot always before the right.. Slowly stepping before the silent form of the assassin, he nodded and brought forth a small scrap of cloth.. Taking the cold hand of his Lord he slipped the cloth between Ghaleons fingers. Within the torch light the twin bands upon Ghaleons hands shimmered brightly, a faint copepr hue.. Moving to the side.... The circle of members slowly revolved around the casket.. Allowing all to say their farewells... As V'Hare returned before the casket he faced the crowd and motioned=-

" If any would care speak their farewells. Please do so now.."

-=The line seemed endless, snaking back through the woodland path all strode upon to reach the site. With the final mournful form slipping from before the casket V'Hare sighed and stepped before all one last time.. The faint wind grew to a chilling breeze,as the Fae cast words of respect towards all that had shown for the preceedings.. With a faint bow he turned.. Four large men had begun to tend to the box, sealing the lid once more. Nailing it shut and lifting it they moved to sink deeper within the woods.. Their destination known by many.. It was a small stone trail leading towards the Den.. Grouping together the members moved through the forest like spectres in the night.. Now and then, V'Hare's eyes searched about.. All had seemed to die down as they reached the elder hall.. The wind had returned to a settling breeze, and the sounds of a festive nature. Merely a memory... As all stepped in V'Hare stood outside for a moment longer.. Nodding towards twin men whom stood guard he stepped within=-

"We musn't be disturbed.."

-=With an elegant waver of his cloak he vanished inward, to the halls main antichamber..=-




Posted on Jul 27, 2000, 9:07 AM

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ebb and flow...

by Valas



...As the proceedings progress, something shifts within the darkness, fathomless eyes holding watch in deep contiplation and regard. Within the winds the serene and utterly haunting words mingle with the nights winds drifting to only one...



Thoughts race and whirl
behind eyes that flash,
The silver thread reaches out
for connection
as the dance begins
on a knifes edge
that sparks
and cuts the night.

The cry's a song
that rises on the wind
in a chorus with,
so many others
until the voices are one,
Eternal lovers in an eternal bliss
of passage.

A call of joy and grief,
of lonely souls in transit
from here -
to there
of faces that wear lives
nd eyes that speak death
In a game where
trust is the key.

Colours race, red and silver,
as the balance shifts,
paths reform
and the strong give in,
withdraw to a point,
Until there is nothing but
that moment-

and "one" is left standing....





Posted on Jul 28, 2000, 3:57 PM

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~A troubled nights rest~

by Kalla Nightbrook



~Amid her gentle slumber, her eyes suddenly open wide as she sits up, a icy cold sweat dripping down her face as she pushes back her ebony coloured hair and inhales deeply~

~Old memories of this room had awakened her from her nights rest. Memories of a marriage gone sour...yet..she still craved his touch...his breath against her skin...his lips against hers..she shifts her silvery eyes around her old chambers, tears stinging her eyes as she weeps silently~

~Two of her children bore into this world in this very Den...remembering her first encounter with him...a smile creeps across her face as she whispers silently to herself~

'The false death of Ghaleon brought us together..I lived in fear that he was going to kill me because I despised him...but it appeared that there was no hate from either of us..'

~Sighing softly she lies back down, chewing her lower crimson lip as more tears course down her cheeks, leading her back into her nights rest~


Posted on Jul 22, 2000, 7:10 PM

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All WolfPack Member's..

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Strickly OOC here..

I'd like the members of the WolfPack to email with character names, and a bit of information about them. ie.. area of expertise. L no stats or whatnots, though I'd like levels in power, ranks etc.. L

Nothing will be used IC, just working on a storyline, and want to make it challenging.


Thanks!

Paulda Cat OOC
Lady Durken IC

Posted on Jul 22, 2000, 5:42 AM

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-=The Sorrows of a loss=- : Diary Entry of V'Hare Auldron :

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" And it was said, to spite the people of Carthage. Roman soliders salted the soil. Leaving naught a land to harvest or grounds to live"











1375 D.R FlameRule
Diary Entry


It seems tragedy weaves its incessant arm of destruction my guilds way once more.. First, and untimely M'lord fell to what creature of the night I know not.. Saddly, a corpse was nae found.. Now, with a moment of change, perhaps promise.. The hollowed stone we called home, now laid to a pile of smultering rocks and ashe.. What horrific sins be my brethren privy to that we can not seek absolution for? Doth the sins of Our Father return to haunt us in his absence. Our ranks have never been stronger... Never have we fought with such a unity, and still an hidden power tries out. Placing another obstacle before us immediately after this is past.. For once it is not the hour I choose to write that leaves me irratable.. I only wish things fair better for our kin..


I've been instructed to seek out the thieves whom hath raided our den as we were away... Thank the gods the child was nae present within thy halls.. Perhaps Ghaleon himself would have returned from the grave to slay us all. The excavating crew was able to breetch the "stone wall" that sealed the entryway.. Informing them of the several traps.. They were able to return and speak of nothing left.. All was burned to a cinder.. Oil flasks and loose bundles of torches were found laying upon the ground half past the entryway.. I doubt not a moment the dark witch of this forest waved a hand in our keeps destruction... I've taken care of Lady Kalla and her children. Seen them to a new "place of rest" for the night.. However, upon later surveying. It seems well enough place to set out keep.. Many of the passages are wide enough even for M'friend Gunnar to step down with ease.

I sit alone outside this lost treasure to us.. The smell of the fire still rages against my nostrils.. All shall pay for this.. I swear it.. in blood... Perhaps Ghaleons words were not in ernest at all.. He should have killed her when he sent her out to the wooden arms of the Vallenwood.. Its odd.. I both miss him, and still nae do not.. Perhaps I nae have realized yet.. As if his loss still a distant memory in my mind. Waiting to be reacounted.. Still.. It is as he said. His time had passed. All that he cared for hath left this plane.. Inner greed within still wishes he stayed.. For to see that faint grimace upon those childish features.. Tis be heavenly at this moment... The hour looms late and there is still more work I need to tend towards. I shall try to find time to jot a few words on the morrows eve.. I do hope he returns.. Much will be lost without him.. IF we are not already...... ...




Posted on Jul 20, 2000, 7:49 PM

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...The days begin..

by Lady Durken

-She woke with a start. The old book feel to the floor with a loud thud, waking the imp. Fire shot from his fingertips towards the door, blackening it. With a wave of her hand, and soft body movements, the flames died out. Sighing she looked at Darklit and winked. Though her hands shook, and her heart raced.-

"Don't doooo thaaat!" -he whined at her.-

"I.. Be still Darklit.." -her tone puzzled him into silence, blanching slightly, he toppled off the back of the skull and laned in a heap.-

-Shaking her head, even that didn't cause her to smile. Calming herself with a deep intake of air, she leaned down, picking up the book, cursing in an ancient tongue at her carelessness. Inspecting the tomb for damage, and finding none, she rested it upon her desk. Her bed had been moved to make room for the skull. The ache's in her bones cried out as she moved, reminding her to fix that situation, and soon. Scrolls set upon the shelf next to the desk, unanswered pleas for help. She would have to check into them herself, since none other was around. Perhaps it was time to recruit her own help? at least if the other's weren't around, she'd have eyes and ears elsewhere. Rubbing her temples slowly she walked from her room, the door opened on it's own accord, Darklit scittering out before it could close him in. Not that, that would stop him.-

-Making her way into the great hall, she waved her hand, whispering soft words of power. The candles lighting one by one within the room. Other words spoken as she change the mechanics of traps she'd laid within and without the Den. She felt the familar pangs of hunger, and decided to cook. Which sent Darklit into the nearest corner, hiding under a chair. His Mistress could do many things, but cook wasn't one of them. Was he going to tell her this? not a chance.-

-An hour later, she gave up. Even she had to admit, she couldn't cook. With a glare towards the imp, she aired the place of black smoke, and moved to change.-

"Not one word. Not one." -she hissed at him.-

-the Imp scrambled behind her, sure he was a demonling, but he was a pervert to. Waggling his brows, well he would waggle them, if an imp had brows, he moved to enter the chambers, only to have the door slammed in his face. Falling back, he grabbed his snout and huffed. Snapping his clawed fingers, he sulked against the far wall, waiting for his Mistress to exit.-

-The door opened moment's later, and she stepped out. Sliding the dagger into the sleeve-sheath, making sure the spring caught. She smirked at the imp, who looked at her as innocently as an imp could, and headed for the Castle.-

"What am I gonna do with you Darklit?"

-The imp sniggered and popped onto her shoulder.- "Same as always, Mistress..Same as Always.."

Posted on Jul 17, 2000, 1:30 PM

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..The Meeting...

by Lady Durken

-Bronwyn moved into her Chambers, Darklit upon her shoulder. Silencing the insistant chittering of the Imp, the door closed behind them.. V'hare's words echoing in her mind. "I haven't invaded what is plain and visable. Next encounter perhaps wear your heart somewhere else M'lady Durken..." Humor invaded her being at the very thought. "I wish not talk old battle strategies any longer. Nor lament over a love that dares not speak its name. It bores me.." Walking around the tight quaters, the skull of the Ancient Blue Dragon, still took up much of her space. Lost in her own thoughts, she barely noticed Darklit jump from her shoulder to the skull. Huffing indignitly at being ignored.-

'Don't walk away from me!'

-He screetched as she turn to rest in the desk chair, readying herself for the nights entry into her journal. The days visit to the Castle, and the meeting with V'hare still presant within her mind. Arching a brow as she let the cloak slip off her shoulders, and removed her gloves, she looked to the Imp.-

'What is your problem this eve, Darklit?'

-The imp crossed his arms over his chest, and sat rather comically upon the top of the skull.-

'Weren't you listening Mistress? Ghaleon's given you leadership of this so called pack.'

-She chuckled softly as she placed the gloves into her belt, shaking her head slowly.-

'Really Darklit, You wish me to listen to that pompus, borish, horses ass?'

-The Imp snickered. Those weren't the words he would use, but then, his Mistress was ever the Lady, that was as close to nice or evil she was going to get, even with him.-

'He is that. Yessss yesss he isss!' -he snickered.- 'Still what he said has some turth to it, Mistress.' -he nodded.- 'Ghaleon was headed for madness even as he took you into this operation.'

-She sighed heavily and shook her head slowly, turning to light another candle. She waved her right hand, whispering words lost on the Imp as the candles within the Main Hall extinguished. The one before her flared to light with than audiable 'pop'. Resting back she rested her gaze upon the Imp once again.-

'Ture as that may seem, Darklit, I would rather wait and see how the other's react to Lord Auldron's declaraction, berfore acting uopn anything, or coming to conclusions. If the Shiana is delivered unto my care, then I will count him as lost.'

-The imp huffed again, arching back both brows, watching the warrior before him. Then snorted his reply.-

'That child will be your undoing, Mistress. She'll take you away from the battlefield..."

-His words were silenced as she raised her hand, the look within her emerald eyes, chilled even him, causing him to fall backwards on the skull with a loud 'oof!'. Bronwyn perked a brow, though her tone carried the same chill her gaze had given him, as the Imp peeked over the top of the skull at her.-

'Don't ever underestimate me, Darklit. You know better than that. The child will do no such thing, and if it be his wish for me to care for her, then I definately will do so.' -she paused only long enough to let her words sink in.- 'None of my duties will suffer. Is that perfectly clear?'

-The Imp nodded, his silence was enough for the woman.-

'Good. Now begin with the grinding of the Dragon's horn. The dust must be pure, no bone left.'

-She smirked as she heard the familar stone against stone, as he began his task. She didn't make her entry, she only read. Picking up her book, she rested it upon her legs, as she propped them up, and began to read again. Half an hour later, she made her way from her chambers towards the entry hall. The traps set, a few added bonus' in place. At the entrance she set the 'guards and wards', not so easily passable. Tucking the scroll away again, she retuned to her chambers, retiring to her restless sleep, haunted by visions of what could be.. or what had come to pass.-

Posted on Jul 15, 2000, 9:05 AM

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...a warriors journal...

by Lady Durken

-Bronwyn sat within her quarters in the Den. The place as silent as a tomb. The eerie bellow of the wind rushing through hidden smoke stacks of unused firehousings, lending to the desolation of the place. The candle light danced over the skull of the anicent blue, as Darklit, the imp rested upon the top of the huge thing. Not much room remained within her chambers, but then, she didn't mind. She need not much, and her work with the skull wasn't complete. Taking pen to paper, she removed the old leather bound book, opening it to a certian page, and took to her writing before turning in..-

Summer's end..

"I've not seen the other's since my return. In truth, I don't know if they still walk amongst the living, or have come the ends that all eventually meet. The dust within the main hall shows little use of the passing months, in truth, worry settles upon my brow.

The battle we'd prepared for over the last few months lasted only mere moments. As most battles do. The familare prayers said by men going to thier deaths washed through the camp the eve before. Why do they do it? I heard them ask one another in the dead of night, hoping not to be heard.

Perhaps I could have answered them. Sent them packing away from one death, only to meet another. But that isn't a warrior's way, is it?
Who was to answer my own questions? No one. Just as it's been far longer than even I care to remember.

We do it, because it's what we do best. Perhaps, because the bloodlust that enters us, drives a special part of us onward to death, to face it at every possible angle, and push us beyond what we precieve as our capabilities. We do it, to prove we can do far more, than we thought we could. Even if that means, it's the last thing we do. We do it, for some un-godly reason, because it's all some of us ever know.

Of course, the echoed prayers were ignored. Over half the men and monsters that joined me over the months, met their doom under the Old One's harsh power. More than a handful made it back to whatever hole they crawled from. None except Darklit and myself returned to Vallenwoods.

Perhaps I've known all along, there would be none to greet. And yet, even after leaving court behind. I had hoped someone still haunted these halls.

I shall seek them out on the marrow.. godspeed to them, wherever they rest or wake.."

-She set the pen down, capping the berried ink, lightly rising the book to blow upon the still wet ink. Sitting back in her chair, she closed her eyes, and soon found rest for a short time..-




Posted on Jul 13, 2000, 9:40 PM

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homeward..

by Lady Durken

-The large men carried the trophy as they refered to it, along the pass. The harsh wool that covered the massive item was dripping with blood. Durken sat upon her steed watching them, barking orders in a language seldom used by a human. A few of the Ogre's seemed to snort as she waved them away. Moving to the side of the wagon, she watched as they placed the item carefully onto the wagon's bed. Nodding her satisfaction, she moved to the wagon Master, giving him orders, and watched as he took off. Reining in her horse she turned, looking to the valley below. It'd
a long summer already. She luckily had gotten the women and children from the villiage before the battle took place.-

-The wind shifted and blew her cloak behind her, long golden locks torn free from the leather strap she used to
bind it, whipped with the blowing breeze. Her emerald eyes glazed slightly as she relived the scene in her head.-

"It's time, My Lord." -her title spoken by one of her men. She nodded gently, moving to the head of the line,
wounded would be tended to in wagons. The dead had already been buried. She'd taken the task of killing the
monster that plagued her, to keep her mind from other things. Once she was at the front of the line, she turned
in the saddle, and raised her hand. The mighty stallion she sat upon, edge forward as she dropped her hand, the
long line moving behind her and the string of guards, companions and others as she began to lead them back towards
'home'.-

-In the village left behind. The huts, buildings and fields still smoldered from the fires. Though they had been
extinguished long ago, the stench was unmistakable. She'd been gone for months. Tracking the monster. The army came
along the way. As she travled. A knight here, a monster there. All wanting something she apparently could offer
them. Along the north pasture, the body of the anicent blue lay sprawled and headless. The meat would feed the
village through the winter. The scales had been picked, the best ones taken as reward. To use as Armor or whatever
the sick bastards thought would work. Durken herself had beheaded the thing. That was her trophy. Her fight with
this one was over.-

-Days turned to weeks. The army thined. Some died from wounds that wouldn't heal. Others staggered back to thier
pituful lives. The one big fling they'd dreamed of, having made life complete for them. Durken continued. At the
end of the journey, as she lead the wagon horses into the clearing at Valenwoods, it was just her and Darklit. As
it had been for so long. She'd skined the head, working it to the bone. The skull of the ancient blue rested on the
back of the wagon covered in clean cloth. Her pride and joy, till the next item came along.-

"Home again, Home again.." -the imp said as he rested upon his Mistress' shoulder- "jiggity jig.." -she smirked at
him.- "It's not so bad, Darklit. At least.. it is home." -Silence ensued as the pair moved further into the clearing
towards the entrance of the den....-

Posted on Jul 11, 2000, 11:12 PM

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The orders.

by





"Once More into the breech dear friends"










1375 D.R FlameRule
Diary Entry.


I find it hard to write words at this hour of the eve... All about me sleep, though I still stir restless. For the reason, may be warrented by the news that has come to my ear and not theirs.. Only mere hours passed since M'lord chose to meet with I in secret council.. His words though broken brought forth both promise and fear within thy.. Words he nor I ever wished spoke.. I, for a moment felt him mad, perhaps driven to this coarse by another.. Such temptious thoughts even break the hardest of cores of a heart at times.. Still, a dying mans wishes I shall see forth.. I know not how I shall tell the others, other then by means instructed. Some shall know more then others.. Tis nae fair.. However, tis what must be done to keep such a secret to thy grave..

I find such humor in the mind however, with the gravest of news still pending on my mind, it finds ways to flush it out. I find myself looking foward, at what maybe and not the present, at what shall be.. The times and trials I and others have endured, both seperate and together. The strength one finds in unity and alone. Mine father would be proud of the pains I've endured and scornful at such status I've chosen at this moment. With no other words, I care not. Tis the placement in life I've chosen. Matter not, if I sit aside him within the ranks of our Redcap brethren or a lowly thieves guild. I've found a place in life and shall serve to my grandest.. Still, I do feel an emptiness within part of me.. I write now what I never spoke.. For soon we shall be moving, and times to write such as now will be fleeting at best.. Mere scribbled words never to match the impact this one entry shall hold..

I wish I bore a love that drives M'lord toward this unsettling madness.. He sits stirred each night.. Only to craddle the love he lost by his own bitter tongue and hand alike.. What daggers of pain plague him none WILLING could ever heal.. The power resides within one to warrent him peace before his death.. A peace he knows will never see.. I questioned not why he took the child. For once the greatness of his light outshadowed the haunting darkness.. Tis be sad to watch it fade shortly from this world. Once more, I wish not to interfere in his aspirations.. Only to stand fast at his side upon beckoning call and fight if need be.. There is no debt of gratitude I can cast to ever repay such a man for what he hath give me..

I wish silent prayers over my company.. Wishing the best for them after thy word of M'lord is cast.. I do hope to see them once more.. Within the brilliant light of that grand castle miles from the shaded halls of the Vallenwoods around this den.. Or within the light air of our Gods daylight. Basking in meery praise and dance.. I do hope such visions are what shall come.. Only fate and destiny shall show forth... With the dying of this candle before me and the smoltering of light, my words fall short.. Time fades ever so quickly.. Time I only wish I had once more.. May the light shine over us.. Even when we seem our darkest.. Protect us.. and save our souls...

V. Auldron......



Posted on Jul 11, 2000, 10:52 PM

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The Disappearance of a legend... The Beckoning of a Dream

by

::A Section taken from the Diary of V'Hare Auldron::

Juno 1357 DR.

"Months had rolled by.. The seasons changed.. The cold bitter months had fell to the chilling rains of spring. Only to lead way to the blistering days of summer.. With this life within the lands had changed.... With the brighting of the sky by the gods light... The road ways towards the Castle's lands had opened up once more.. Each day the streets bustled with common pilgrim and wealthy merchant alike.. It was this time My Lord stirred from the small cottage which held him for the recent months.. There he kept dear and close his child... Watching her each moment. Removing the elements of his life he wished not to her to ever learn of.. Waking The morn of last eve he shook a cold sweat from his brow as he cried out.. A solitary word only the ghosts of night would hear and their demon lords would speak off... A name perhaps... Shaking his head he fought the images of a dreamscape away and found the pitcher of fresh water aside his bed to ease into a relaxed state... Droplets of water carressed over his flesh with each handful he splashed into his face.. Thin beads of water wisked down the angles of his face as he rested there.. In solitude he thought.. What was needed to be done was set before him.. Voices of the past governed his ways.. Faces he wished to forget would need haunt his vision once more... Taking heed for the child he would progress in his plans slowly.. All would need work like clock work.. There was much to be done. The child was a factor he need take care of for the moment.. With Trappers and game hunters abound within the Vallenwoods this season.. His home hidden from all eyes but ones, would truly fall to discovery.. So he chose to leave that morning.. Perhaps never to come back.. With all that was needed..The grand assassin returned to him hall from his short hiyatis. The swell of the stone walls and seeping water brought him happiness. He was home once more.. ."

Posted on Jun 26, 2000, 12:02 AM

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ever remains....

by Valas

Ever present, ever vigilaint, the fathomless eyes precieve so much more. The hand brushes across the water creating a rippling effect as the visions fade to the depths of the crystaline waters floor...

Gathering her meger but precious few articles, she in silence moves about the woods as one of its own. Even in the blackest of the night knowing on instinct where to follow the trails and turn along the cliffs sure footed in stealth.

Never once deploying any means of disclosing her presence. Remaining as she swore so very long ago, too remain by his side wether welcomed or unwelcomed.

Shaking like silken webs from her thoughts the ebbing of distant memories that haunt her still, the furrow etching her brow in rememberance of things she had naught wished but was forced to do.

She is bound in honor, in rememberance and in self to remain even in death to preserve him and carry with him along side in respect for a lifetime of things both past, present, and uncertain future.

She knows the reasons for the Child hence the protections placed upon her, so now her task is double seeing to both as it was destined so long ago. The past now comes Full Circle as it encircles and returns to rear up and force them both to take another look and face it head on.

What remains is be it jointly or apart, she will not falter she will remain untill death claims her first. The vow she made when she was young and he had done such for her.

Posted on Jun 27, 2000, 7:39 PM

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Watching...

by The reflection of life

+He sits deep within the hallow chambers of wood and stone...his musing over but one this eve....he exhales an uneeded breath as if to clerify the moment...+


+His fingures rotate counter clockwise as an orb of darkness appears in his slender hand...his eyes gazing deep into the black crystel....penetraiting any scying wards yet not checking for wards of any kind..as if he wanted Ghaleon to know he was being watched....+

+The nightlord muses over this one for what seems the longest time....his black eyes flicker for the briefest moments....the cloaked elf knowing the time draws near for he and Ghaleon to speak...but he shall bide his time for now...content to wait within the darkness he so lovingly calls home...the very same essence that clings to him like a child to a mother...never wanting to let him go from its dark embrace....+


+The only sounds that eminate from deep within the catacombs of night are the sweet songs of his children as they dance to the meloncholly tune of midnight...a macabre of true night becoming a splended thing to a heart such as his.....=

Posted on Jun 6, 2000, 7:51 AM

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Startling Revelations

by Valas




After Days and Nights of eternal watch, curled high within the monsterious boughs of one of the ancient Vallenwoods, he body succumbs to the ravages of exhaustion.

The visons fill her dreams, the future tense gives heed, the present clarity, but it is the past that haunts..


there was a man, walking alone by a river. His heart was dark and empty, and he looked deep down in the deep, dark water.

Down there it seemed to be, what he searched for so desperetaly, the darkness inside him took what was left of selfconcious and pride. Over
and over again, he saw the little face, the dark blue eyes staring up at him so desperately, the anxiety so strong in it. They followed him, hunted
him day and night with the question.. why?

He walked there alone, by the river, looked down the dark water, heard its rushing, so much alike the rushing in his ears. The flickering for
his eyes grew stronger and stronger, as he into every detail remembered.

The eyes.. the mouth opening and closening, the arms fighting him so desperately. The struggle about power! he fell to his knees and hid his
face in his hand, screaming quietly inside him.

Then suddenly came the night. Quickly it came, darkness lowering over him as dust, and in a long distance he could hear thunder. It was on its
way now, the thunder. In the air he could feel that special taste of rain soon to fall, and the wind blowing slowly getting colder. The man
raised his face to the wind and cried into the emptiness, his screams were filled with deepest fear and anxiety. The wind grew stronger, and
around him flew red and yellow leaves in a hornful dance.

In the wind he could hear her voice, the little child, her heartbreaking screams for help. He held his hands over his ears, but nothing seemed to keep the voice out. On the river, the waves threw themselves up closer to him, they got closer, as to bring him down in the wild tumult on the surface.

Though he was a man of the river, he knew that under the surface, it was all calm, only the streams held their power there. The streams. The
little girl's body. The blood in her veins that flew like underwaterstreams in a wild running water. The fearful look in her eyes. The screams.

He stood up and tried to find his way into the woods in a desperate try to save himself, but the trees closed his way, and he found himself
pushed back to the water. The wind blew in an unbelievable strenght, and he wondered to himself why he yet hadn't falled down the water and drowned.

He could hear her clearly now in the wind. The voice calling. It was calling him, calling, tempting. With a good grip of his coat he turned
around and looked to the water, the water hitting the walls and made huge clouds of white scum. The child's body. Her white skin. The water..

The man looked down at the water, and in the deep darkness he saw her. She laid in the water, calmly she floated, like if the hard storm wasn't
there, she smiled so softly at him. Her eyes shining, he didn't see they were shining by a cold fire, that is only to find in the halls of death,he could only see the light, and he ran to her.

He reached out his arms for her and cried out, with no words, how sorry he was. She lied in the
water, gupping slowly, her white cloth shining almost unbarable bright and he didn't see the marks on her throat, the wounds on her legs. All
he could see was the light in her eyes.

When he reached the edge of the river, she disappeared and appeared again a bit further out. Her eyes didn't burn anylonger, and she looked
like she was sinking. The man froze in fear, nothing in his head worked the way it should. He threw of his coat and his shoes, the hat he threw
into the forest, and then jumped down the ice cold water, where the darkness welcomed him with opened arms. First, he sank, but managed to
get up and get some air into his lungs, then started his fight to reach out to her. He could see her all the time, her eyes so frightened, the
tiny arms fighting so hard to stay over the surface.

He could hear her screams, the childish voice, from which one could hear short pieces of
screams for help. He tried over his physical strenght in his powerless attempts to try to reach her, and soon he felt how the strenght started to make his body senseless. The girl got longer and longer away from him, her screams weaker and weaker. Soon he didn't even see her.

The man started to panic when he realized that the edge of the river was somewhere far away, that he actually couldn't see it. The wated was dark and cold, and he was getting frozen, to move his arms got harder and harder. The clothes drew him down, he was thankful he had taken off his
shoes.

The water… the dark water, it pulled him down. Suddenly he felt so tired, so very, very tired. He had to rest for a moment, rest his arms
from the unbarable weight his shirt was. The man relaxed and let himself sink down under the water. There he saw her. The child.

The girl with the bright skin and the shining eyes. She smiles at him, and he didn't see how evil that smile was. He smiled back, closed his eyes when the water hid his sight. He felt something gripping around his foot, pulling him down, but it didn't matter anymore. It was so nice down here, in the water. He didn't freeze anymore, and he felt so light, like he was floating. That thing pulled his foot, slowly he was pulled down, and in a strange moment he thought that the water was so easy and calm down
here. No violent waves just calm streams pulling him down. He was satisfied.

Her voice… whispering in his ear, nonsense words, mumbling in the rushing water, he listened to it..a siren song, it reminded him of his mother's
voice, singing songs for him as a child. A child, just like that girl,young and innocent, unknowing of life. A child with white skin and trusting eyes, just as he once was. Once, but not anymore.

The voice whispered lovely words in his ear, the water rushed around him, her voice almost couldn't be heard over it. Soon it was heard less,
the rushing the more, but the man was happy and didn't worry much about it, because soon he would see her. Soon he should hold her in his arms
telling her how much he regretted it. She should smile and forgive him,and all should be well again...Soon.


She awakens with a start, her heart racing, pounding deep within her chest her face damp , wet with the tears of her dreams or perhaps the river of time. Expecting to see the face looming before her her hand already upon the pommel of her blades, steadying herself as she near slips from the high bough.

The screams echoing, wether in her mind or in the night she is unclear, but she is aware it be those that which awakened her form the haunting of the past.

Closing her eyes breathing slow hoping to regain herself quickly, her head rests back against the huge trunk of the tree that has supported her all the long days and nights.




Posted on Jun 2, 2000, 12:55 AM

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...the leather wings...

by Lady Durken

-The shadows from above, blotted out the scan moonlight that had somehow managed to peek through the clouds. A storm was brewing this night. Bronwyn felt it through her armor, deep in her bones. She was tired. And yet, she continued. Hidden in the rings magic, she glanced above, just as the sound hit her. The beat of leathery wings, shifting wind around and under them to keep it airborne. It was at the least 60' long, and the wing span was more that double that. She'd normally just let it be, but the moonlight shift and shown off the scales, the soft glint of blue, her right eye twitched. Her left hand soon held a dagger, as her right gripped the pommel of her sword. 'So.. it followed did it? well then.. best lead it away from Vallenwood, yes?' She silently sighed as she made her way steathly along the underbrush of the forest, towards the mountians to the north. There was much to be done. And this time.. he wouldn't be getting away.. -

Posted on Jun 1, 2000, 11:28 AM

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Tomb of Memories.....

by Valas





Nowhere can a secret keep
always secret, dark and deep,
half so well as in the past,
buried deep to last, to last.

Keep it in your own dark heart,
otherwise the rumors start.

After many years have buried
secrets over which you worried,
no confidant can then detray
all the words you didn't say.

Only you can then exhume
secrets safe within the tomb
of memory, of memory,
within the tomb of memory.


...remaining at her watch, the Babe, as well as the One. Wandering admist the night, doing the patrol, the weave woven and cast. Those under its guise, knowing naught its power.

The ward upon the child, and the mark she lain upon her. Keeps any and all from bringing to her harm. Unbeknowst to him, or ignored by the One, they once more hold the bond that was held so fierce so long ago.

Time like the tide, ebbs and flows, and the shatterings of the past, always toss shards into the present, to remind us of how things were and how they again could be.

She moves up within the Vallenwoods, nestling within its massive limbs, alert, prepared and always on watch, weather in wake or dream as the visions keep her aware of those who deem to do harm, or betray...

...the dawn looms forth as the new day breaks...

Posted on May 22, 2000, 9:35 PM

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Returning..

by Lady Durken

-The echoing beat of the horse's hooves pounded the ground as she rode the white steed into the clearing. She had returned. She was home again. Or at least what she hoped was home still. Her hand clutched at the leather medalion that Ghaleon had given her. Her cloak tattered and torn, her armor scratched, dulled. Blood from countless battles rested upon her clothing. She'd taken little with her when she left. Only what she needed. She'd bested the Dragon in his own game. A feat not many could do. She felt no pride in this. It was something that needed done. To obtain that which she sought. The scrolls and books she'd won in her games with ancient beast were tucked away safely. She reined the horse to a stop, slipping from the mighty beasts back, and grabbed the saddlebags, flinging them over her shoulder. She looked at the entryway and a smile crossed her crimson lips as she patted the rump of the horse allowing him to wander off into the clearing. She suddenly just disapeared.-

-Appearing in her quarters, she sighed heavily. She was tired. Worn out from the long trek, as well as her meeting with the Dragon. Carefully laying the bags upon her cot, she stretched. Then went about cleaning up. As tired as she was, her excitement at being home again was overwhelming almost. She remembered the glade, and Ghaleon's words. Her hand brushed over the medalion again, as she settled down in the main room to read and have a well deserved drink...-

Posted on May 18, 2000, 10:24 PM

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Lord of the Rings

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-=Upon the silence of whispering wind and silken shadows, the Assassin Cometh. He dressed light this eve, his task at hand easily done.. Or so he thought.. With the silence of death he strode through the main enterance, his form lurking within the deep pockets of shade as he moved from room to room.. He wore no armor, nor the gallent colors of his leather he was common to. Nightshade pigmented his clothes, pouches, everything. Even his flesh bare coloring to aide in his stealth.. How long this duty took, he knew not. Each step taken in this acursed hall felt like an eternity of damnation, he cared not prattle about much longer then needed.. He saught the chambers of one he called daughter.. Perhaps once he did.. He crept aside her door, with a skillful eye studied the lock upon it, then easily picked it. The door moved upon but a hair at first, he cared to view any occupents, and their state, much to his liking. She was resting, asleep like his child within his hall.. Seizing his moment he acted, quickly taking forth a scroll, he placed it upon her bed side table, upon it laid a small ring worn for Kalla's finger.. Stepping back he looked but one, nae twice toward the sleeping figure, and blew her a kiss as the shadows enveloped him once more..=-

The Scroll Reads as follows:

Dearest Kalla,

My words to you this mourn were in haste, hope not you take them to heart as others have. Times of trial stem before me, and I take to them not well at all. Relieving my pains upon you was truly horrific, I wish to field yae an apology. It matter not if it falls on deafened ears.. The words hold weigh.. I apologize Kalla....All I have to give in return, be this ring, one another held dear one from yae.. Guard it well, however, never keep it from your heart.... Keep well..

Enchanted..

Ghaleon




Posted on May 11, 2000, 8:59 AM

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-Not all is..-

by Lady Durken

"Through the forest have I gone.
But Athenian found I none,
On whose eyes I might approve
This flower's force in stirring love.
Night and silence.--Who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
This is he, my master said,
Despised the Athenian maid;
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul! she durst not lie
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe.
When thou wakest, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid:
So awake when I am gone;
For I must now to Oberon."

Puck- A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act 2, Scene 2. By W. Shakespear.


-The Demonling appeared within the room of Durken's hidden chambers. He remained silently watching, though he knew she would sense his presence. It worked that way with them. Bronwyn sat on the floor, upon the same rug she and the babe had rested. A smile the imp had never seen before graced the woman's lips. He knew her nature. He had seen the battles she'd engaged in. Watched her lead several armies over the years. Never had he seen this look upon her features. It fasinated him.

The scroll clutched gently in his clawed hand, he observed. Bronwyn looked up, and tilted her head slightly.- "I know your here pest.. come forward and speak.." -He popped in beside her. Cackling softly and rocking on his clawed feet. Handing her the scroll.- "He wants your presence Mistress.."

-She chuckled faintly, and perked a brow.- "You read the scroll Darklit?" -he shuffled his feet and nodded like a scolded child might have done.- "Yes Mistress.." -She chuckled again.- "It's alright my little pest.. I'll be ready within the hour.." -He beamed and went scrounging for little tidbits of things she kept for him there. He was in pure delight, when he came upon the tin of sweetmeats. They were his favorites. She always seemed to know just how to sait the demonling.-

-She stood, and said her morning prayers. Even she held some hopes that whoever listened, would listen well. The book lay upon the rug, where she had been studying. A few pouches of things she had gathered nearby. It was time to aqquire the last spell she had been seeking. That was what the scroll was for. The Magi had agreed to meet with her. Yet she wasn't so foolish as to go unprotected. The Magi, in her humble opinion wasn't all there. Much like the company he chose to keep. The pixie's and fae ran wild in his land.

In a matter of an hour, just as promised, she found Darklit, happily stuffed with sweetmeats, upon the table. Scooping him up, she placed him on her shoulder, and both disapeared from the place.-

"You suuuure you wanna do this?" -Darklit whined.- "It's not a matter of want anymore, Darklit.." -She responded to her companion. Smiling a knowing smile.- "It's a matter of need.." -The voices faded, along with them..-


Posted on May 11, 2000, 7:31 AM

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A Call To Arms

by

-=Messengers are sent forth to find his brethren... One into the darken woods of the tall looming Vallenwoods to find the Viking hunter, one to scower the bars and taverns of this land to find the drunkered and the fallen angel.. The imp knew where to find the walker of shadows.. Another messenger to the swamps and deeplands to find the ellusive naga. These were his friends, his brethren, and now he needed them more than anything. Each missive carried a scroll penned by Ghaleons hand.. It read as follows.. =-


Dearest Brethren,

A time of need has arissen.. Seek me within thyne hall this eve.. Much is to be done and soon.....


Enchanted...

Ghaleon

Posted on May 9, 2000, 8:08 AM

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New Beginning...

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****Standing over an embankment on the outskirts of an elven town, he thinks about his past****

Never one to worry about his future, he tends to only think about his past.......

Until today, he had no reason to dream to what may be or what is soon to come, but..after today....his future is all that he has left..

Early, this eve...he was approached by a strange looking messenger with a message from the past pertaining souly to his future...

If this is his path, he shall walk it...
It this is his destiny, he will attain it...

***bowing his head and offering his allegience as his huge blade pierces the nights wind into the sky***
Ghaleon, We will ride again!!!!!



Posted on May 9, 2000, 2:21 PM

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-Moonlight lies..-

by Lady Durken

"Upon mine lips, a soft kiss did he place. His eyes held promise of new embrace. Evenings spent around thine fire, for truely that was..a deep desire. Memories that flood her mind, the deep crimson that flowed from the dagger's kiss. Around that fire, the air thick with bliss, he breathed his last words looking into her soul..."

(When The Moonlight Lies. Shawnna Blake, Bard.)


-She sat within the hidden dwelling, the child upon the fur rug, fast asleep. The fire crackled and spit in fury, the flames danced in rage. Seeming to reflect the inner mood of the beauty that sat before it. She held the tome within her lap and red the dragon's tongue. Scribed carefully within the pages of sweet hued vellum. Pened in the Mage's blood. She'd payed a heavy price for the book. In truth, it was more than she'd thought she would ever pay for such things. Still, the spells it offered, the hint of what could be done. Caused her skin to tingle with life. Something she'd not felt in a long, long time.

As she closed the book, her mind drifted back to her harsh words the day before. 'You play a game your not prepared to play..old man..' A bitter smile upon her lips as she shook out her long blonde tresses, the chair creaking as she stretched her long legs before her. It was true, he was dealing in an area he obviously knew nothing of. His actions in the meadow showed that alone. She'd traded her armor for something more subtle, the bracers tucked away under the long sleeves of the velvet dress. Hiking the skirts up around her thighs she slipped from the chair and crawled next to Shiana, resting beside the child. She touched her cheek, with a gentle kiss, and sighed soft, as she breathed in her scent.- "Sleep well darling girl.. rest easy.." -She whispered the spell gently. Sprinkling fae dust upon her soft skin, causing it to shine softly. And lay awake even knowing the child would sleep till past dawn...-


Posted on May 9, 2000, 5:32 AM

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-=The Finding=-

by





+ "Strange friend." I said. "Here is no cause to mourn". "None?" said the other, "Save the undone years, the hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours. Was my life also; I went hunting wild. After the wildest beauty in the world +
-Wilfred Owens Strange Meeting


-=-His chainmail sat strewn over his shoulder as his book sank into the marshy floor of the brook as he waded through the water. He passed through it merely to reach his guild.. His right hand continued to swirl in a circular motion , moving something within his palm.. Reaching the bank he fluidly let the emcumbering mail slip to the earth as he looked over the rings of delicate craftsmanship.. He'd never taken them off, save now.. Sighing faintly he returned each to their place proper and moved towards the light from his den. She'd continue to bother her, he knew rest would find him at his other home. Or least he wished... He was coming to gather a few mere things.. Stepping in a pugnent odor invaded his nostrils, it was strong, metalic.. Shaking his head he stepped further down, bypassing the traps with feline grace... Pressing past the oaken door his eyes befell a gruesome image. The commoner from this morn sat chained to the statue within te entryway. Blood still cooled and formed a murky pool about his form. His eyes were missing and a visage of true suffering seemed present. A scroll sat attacked to his corpse.. Reading it he sighed once more. More riddles. When would it all end? All this death.. Kneeling he strode his hand over the mans face and shook his head.. Regret filled his heart as he looked away.. This was not what he wished.. Who was to blame? Resting aside the corpse sat a thin dagger with a black hilt.. A jade gem resting within the pommel. Had she struck again? Nae.. couldn't have been.. He would have someone "deal" with it later. for now me chose to think.. This pulled his mind from her, and gave way to a much warrented rest.. -=-

The scroll is inked in blood and reads as follows:

"He carved his eyes out to hide from the horrors he saw.. Now all he can do is listen to them eat his flesh... "

This is an Open RP folks.. anyone whom wishes to hop along on it can. S





Posted on May 9, 2000, 1:37 AM

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Shhhhhh they hear what you think....

by Munroe Isadora Vryçe Griffinsbane


~The night was unusually sticky and she walked barefoot amoung the vallenwoods. Silver robes trailed her body like a wedding train. Pale ethereal and solemn she strode through the woods and waded the stream passed the rock and the huge Vallenwood she used to climb. Her mind reaches out towards him again as she walks through the woods towards the den. This time she will start further away and continue in towards the edge of the Vallenwood.~
(Auspex:4 Steal Secrets Roll: Intelligence3+Subterfuge3 Diff 8: 8.9.7.2.8.3 = 3 Successes = 3 thoughts...)
~At the stream she lets her mind carry to his thoughts.~
"Ghaleon why did you leave me....why did you betray me with her..."
~Towards the rock and further on to the tree she smiles whimsically and continues the haunting messages.~
"You said you'd never stop loving me...Kasmira asks about you..."
~Weaving in and out of the Vallenwoods she lets the last thought slip through to his mind...~
"Come find me my love I need you..."
~Turning her ethereal form continues to weave through the Vallenwoods her jade gaze cool and solemn her face an emotionless mask. Upon the stream she wades back through and gazes at her reflection, the bloody runes still present upon her upper chest. With a splash of her hand she sends her reflection spattering through the air and continues back towards her home. Her eyes narrow, her goal set and she will not stop till it is attained.~



Posted on May 8, 2000, 5:38 PM

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The beginings of Madness...

by Munroe Isadora Vryçe Griffinsbane



"Come to me, O boldest of knights, and feel the Dark Mother's caress."

It was the time of night when dreams shift to nightmares. The moon was waning towards the west and the vallenwoods at the edge of the Den seemed alive with sinister rustlings. She stood at the edge, far from the traps he set. Her voice lilted out in a soft whisper towards him, only no words escaped her mouth. Darkness enshrouded her form, though through the waning light of the moon, the silver of her robe shimmered. Hair unbound and free cascaded about her form like hell-fire. Her delicate face seemed void of anything as she kept her vigil, the voice for his ears only, and his was the only that heard it as it entered his mind...She layered her words through his thoughts, softly at first.. a gentle whisper against his mind..the beginings of madness...her voice his thoughts...over and over..(( Auspex 3 Steal Secrets Roll: Intelligence3+Subterfuge3 Diff 8: 10.2.8.8.6.3 = 3 Successes ))
"Don't leave me....I loved you."
And so she stood for mere seconds, a ghost of his past, a wraith like prophecy of what was to come...turning she drifted back towards her home..a small whimsical smile embued over dusky lips.



Posted on May 7, 2000, 8:03 PM

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-=A Stir of Echoes=-

by







" The twinkle of daylight, brings forth the mornings light. The end of evening, rests my souls plight... " --Anonymous Poet


-=He rested at the brooks side. Resting for the moment.. He'd changed so recently, long was his hair and dark as the shade of midnight, his skin still the light almond colore it bore for years, his ebony eyes rested shut, sealed from the unsurmountable darkness around him as he rested faintly. A dagger scabbard lay at his side, nothing more.. Still, evil intent met with wicked desires, something stirred within the resting warrior. A channel that had not been called upon for years was tested.. The word rang aloud in the forests grove, though spoke in a gaelic whisper, matter did it not. A name was called, and the being answered, with a slight tremor or agnst it rested once more. Though the assassin did not.. Quickly he rose as panic strewn across his face. Even the evil within him, bound in its state of slumber worried for a moment, it wished not leave its host, not so abruptly.. Their thoughts mingled as one, for they shared a symbiote relationship, each serving the other to survive.. He returned to the earthen floor of the forests grove, where the large Vallenwoods stretched their limbs to the Gods darkened sky..Who was so arrogant or ignorant to call the beasts name aloud? There were tales of such actions before, a tribe learning several true names of demons and using them in spells, However, this "tribe" quickly learned what the cost of power was and erred from this path.. Could they have learned his name? No.. It was not possible. His thoughts fast and calculating fell towards two.. Only two.. They were the ones whom knew the creatures name.. One had returned from a past forgotten, was merely was soon to become, a past forgotten.. Nothing seemed to change about him, nor would it he thought.. Still, much would need to be done.. If it were the one from days of his past, he would seek her once more. Speak with her and know why the black arts called forth his name. If were the other... What then he thought.. Nothing.. His mind drew a blank.. He would not seek her out... She wished to disappear from his life, to rend nill in his mind. So be it. She was. He would return to his cabin in the northen woods in a short time.. For now he relaxed and thought=-

OOC: Okay. in regards to this post.. I have no clue on what that power was nor where its from but I'll go on my faith alone. Anyway.. Never was it stated when the curse kicks in. IE. when he has to make the occult + Wits roll. So I'm figuring upon first sight.. None the less. HE DOES know that an incantation was cast.. Reasons why.. Easily answered. If one were to read the Clan Book Baali.. one would see that when the Baali used the true names of a Demon in their rituals and incantaions. The demons stirred. Hence, the creature was away of SOMEONE saying its sir-name. SO..If one were to further read you would see that the Baali quick used different prononciations or shortened the demons name in their rituals, thus calling on less power and awakening the demon less.Baali were not fools.. They understood what they dealt with.. Since Roe blantently called it out without shortening or changing its spelling or even prononciation. I'm taking that what she did was a wake up call in a sense.. Equal to being shocked for a moment.. And as posted above. It knows. SO he knows. Well. thats all I will say now.. later kids..








Posted on May 5, 2000, 2:42 AM

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Behold the Curse of the Crone...

by Munroe Isadora Vryçe Griffinsbane~Mistress of Dark


"Of silken shadows, and the softest breath of dark enchantment ;Dark wizards speels entwine me in ravening shackles and black roses draw my blood with thorns sharp as serpent's tooth..
There is witchcraft in the Moon tonight..."


There must have been witchcraft in the moon. She could sense it, the air around her sparked with it. Jade eyes raised to the high ceiling and then down to the doors, standing she made her way to the fireplace poking it with the poker as if her fear of flame were non-existant. Her ears tingled and she stared at her hands. She had returned and everything seemed different. She knew somewhat that nothing would be the same. Sirus had found final death and hopefully peace, another lost another person who betrayed her. Only this time it didn't hurt as much. Perhaps she was losing her humanity, her heart..the bitter twist that was always there with a loss was not there. She had tried to mourn, only she felt a fakeness in it. She would not dishonor Sirus with mourning him without real pain. When Kalevack had met final death, it was as if a part of her had died with him. Turning her hands over she let out a feral snarl and kicked the poker into the fire, the embers hitting and singing her cloak. Striding away she frowned and looked over her shoulder her face emotionless yet slightly a grin formed. To the libraries she went and grasped a small leatherbound book, its rag tag edges crisp with age. A symbol of Ogham upon the cover. The diary of Riona Llewllyn Child of the Crone, rife with knowledges and cants of the Old Ways. Her eyes narrowed and she curled into a massive chair in the library's foyer. Eyes skimming page after page remembering and devouring the knowledge she has read over more than she could possibly count. "At the hour of midnight thy vitae will flow down the spiral rock, and the Crone will feed and be pleased." She re-reads the passage and grins..Standing book in hand she moves to the main hall and slips behind a crimson tapestry behind her Chair. Moving deftly down the secret staircase to the Catacombs, taking a quick right she moves down the passage to an opening..Upon entering she gazes at the pool of greenish black water and the small alter to its side. Grabbing a small copper pot and taking the dagger from her belt she removes her cloak and sits on the cold dank floor. Slitting her palm she allows it to fill the pot halfway. The smell of her vitae hits her and she lowers her brows, she will have to feed soon. Looking in the diary she begins chanting over the blood, her lilting voice speaking the ancient words in gaelic. Dipping two fingers into the pot she begins writing the name of her enemy upon her body in runic glyphs. The face of her enemy comes to her mind and she sneers visibly. Inscribing runes of strength and protection upon her cheeks she continues to chant. The true name of Ghaleon written upon her upper chest right below the hollow of her throat. She continues the curse making it attuned to her foe's mind. She continues to chant sending a soft prayer towards the crone. When she is done the pot is empty and she places her armor on, the runic writing visible upon her chest, though none will know what it says unless they understand Lhiannan runic writing. Her eyes narrow and she places the Dai Katana Soul Stealer in its scabbard upon her back. The Mistress has returned, games and intrigues are over. Bending over the small candle lighting the chamber in the catacombs she forces out a gust of air blowing the flame to nothingness, darkness enclosing her.

Explanation: Ogham 3 Inscribe the Curse
By writing the name of a foe upon her body she gains great power over that foe.
The person must know the foe's true name, spend three blood points for the vampire to inscribe a runic version of that name on his body this name must be displayed on a spot that is visible to the foe. The opponent must roll a Wits + Occult difficulty of 8 or be affected by the magic. The effect is chosen by the Vampire.
Effect Chosen: Mind
The Lhiannan/Vampire causes the foe to be addled or confused. Whenever trying to invoke a magical power, discipline, knowledge, or other product of concentration the foe must spend a Willpower point.
The effect begins when the foe see's his name and lasts until the glyph is erased. Note that unless the foe is familiar with the Lhiannan runic writing he will not recognise his name nor will he know that the glyph is the cause of his trouble.. So whenever Ghaleon see's Roe ~L~ Let the fun begin..



Posted on May 4, 2000, 10:46 AM

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Spirits of the Dead

by Valas


Thy soul shall find self alone
'mid dark thoughts or the grey tomb
Not one, of all the crowd to pry
into thyn hour of secrecy.

Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness, for then,
the spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overpower thee, be still.

The night tho' clear shall frown
and the stars shall look not down
from their high thrones in the heaven
with light like hope the mortals given
but their red orbs, without beam,
to they weariness shall seem
as a burning fever
which would cling to thee forever

Now are thoughts thou shalt nae banish
Now are visons ne'er to vanish
from thy spirit shall thy pass
No more like dew drop from the grass.

The breeze, the breath of death, is still
and the mist upon the hill
shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken
Is a symbol and a token
How it hangs upon the trees
a mystery of mysteries....



Her eyes scan and penatrate from the depths. Watching this scout...Ghaleon, should have known.
Perhaps he has forgotten too much...Is it possible, he managed to escape the past and loose it from his mind in entirety. She scowls her eyes darkening. No, she felt him, she can still connect. Had he managed to escape it....he would be oblivious to anything.

He would come, He would see, His fear leads him on, yes his fear. Again her eyes brood...he fears her. In her anger a small fire ignites around her, the circle rising upwards the flames reaching with
firey tendrials to the night skies. Her body enconsed in deerskins molded to her form like a glove, she penatrates the forests with nary a sight or a sound. leaving behind the cast charred ring that once held her.

If he follows his instincts, he will find what he seeks. and only he shall come upon her.
Not those he has do his bidding. In many ways he still follows the teachings of Maddox, as much
as he tries to elude from it. Maddox...even in his grave he has cursed her. perhaps cursed them both...

Something reckless warns her...
she turns, closes her eyes and the vison comes. Ghaleon comes...Now to remind him of the Game, but not a game they would procure. One he taught her...survival.

long ago the times he would follow the signs, the only one who ever found her, even when she didnt wish to be found and lure her with his words and hands back within the circle of the many...

The many all dead now save the both of them. The Dead...their lessons, their will, forged within her. She carries the best of each of them within her...striving...to finally prove them wrong, and be what they scoffed and said she'd never amount to.

Only one reason gave her fight...One reason not to fail...

and He comes....


Posted on Apr 26, 2000, 7:12 PM

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-=Preparations=-

by





-=The scout found him within his hall, he stay strewn across twin stools with his back to the far wall. His eyes continued to study the parchment he found only a day ago.. His other hand carressed his bearded chin as he contemplated the meaning..Lifting his eyes, his boots met the floor as he rose.. The scout knew not to kneel, or adorn him with pleasentries, merely speaking freely he addressed the assassin=-


Scout: "I have scowered the forests as requested... No new encampments were found. Nor any word from the Druid Circle which inhabits theses wood... It seems as if she has vanished Ghaleon.. "

Ghaleon: -=slipping the paper beneath his belt and leather britches he sighed.. As a dark lock befell his features he huffed and nodded=- "You are dismissed then m'good man.. Thank yae.."

-=The scout left as quick as he entered.. The assassin merely paced.. Thoughs came past his mind.. Of a time he once fought to forget. Munroe taught him to be not what he was. To forge anew.. Still, with returning to his past he failed her.. It is an impossible thing to escape he believed.. Still, to solve this riddle he must think back, return to a time when another ruled this timeless form.. All their faces befell him once more.. Tistif, Parrasol, Santhus, Verco, and finally Valas.. She was enchanting to the eye, even in her youth. She was small, delicate. Christ, his form at times loomed over hers.. A faint smirk played on his lips for a moment. As thoughts of him and her played to mind.. A time of innocents, which was shattered as was a dark jewel which held all their fates.. Shaking his head he sighed faintly.. What was her place with these words.. Why had she returned.. She believed the master to be dead, he never took anything for granted. Especially with her return.. He knew with her about, Maddox couldn't be to far off.. Lost within the shadows.. Watching the last of his two creations interact.. Saddistically torturing both.. Snickering he rose with one flourished movement.. Kicking a chair aside he took forth his blade and armor alike.. The hunt was one.. Quickly he dressed, taking all that would carry him light... Fastening the last buckle on his leather jerkin he cast his eyes about. Four daggers aligned his ribcage, a small scabbard for what seemed a dagger rested upon his waist.. Two more daggers sat hidden within his boots. With a small backpack and pouches upon his belt he set out. His cloak set behind him, it blew and wrapped around his figure as he stepped from the hall into the darkness of night.. His child was safe in the hands of another.. It was time to face his past alone.. once more=-

Posted on Apr 26, 2000, 1:51 AM

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Servant of Twilight

by Valas

Awakening from a premonition filled slumber, for who truely sleeps anymore...The dreams, the words, the visions still clear.

In silence she contemplates, Knowing how he regards her still, and yet, tis no other he will heed with what she has seen.

Scribing the visions to parchment, she swiftly vanishes to the mists, avoiding the public boards. Slipping easily through the shadows, the darkness her shroud.

Coming to him within the chamber, her eyes shimmer within the twilight's hour. Looking upon the babe nestled down in the cradle nearby. Their eyes meet and reconition in the Babe's eyes, cause her to smile.

Softly, though none would believe if had witnessed with own eyes, those who knew this guardian of the night...her fingertips press to the lips of the Babe, ushering a soft word, before turning to place the message upon the infants coverlet.

Turning once to look down upon "HIS" face, something rare flickering in the depth of her eyes, as she silently fades within the swirling vapours of the beginning of a new day...

The words scribed as he reaches for the child upon his awakening....

There's no escape
From deaths embrace,
though you lead it on
a merry chase.

The "dogs" of death
enjoy the chase
Just see the smile
upon each hound's face.

The chase can not last,
the "dogs" must feed.
It will come to pass
with terrifying speed.

Pestilence, disease, and war
haunt this sorry place
And nothing lasts forever;
that's a truth one must face.

We spend vast energy and time
plotting death for one another.
No one, nowhere, is ever safe.
Not Father, child, or Mother.

Posted on Apr 24, 2000, 8:54 PM

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A night in the unlife of a gangrel viking.

by by: Gunnars player.

As time passes the afternoon begins to come to a slow end. The sun slowly falls below the horizon, and stars and the moon begin to fade into view.

Slowly the large man emerges from deep within. He proceeds to the entry way of the den, and glances about the woods surrounding the area. Tilting his head to the sky the moon brings a grin to his face, his inner beast wanting to howl, for his animal closnes is that of the wolf. He sniffs the breeze lightly and his lips move to a grin his fangs showing in the dim light cast by luna above.

Hunching down onto his hands and one knee, he lets out a growl, and within an instant he is off running swiftly through the tree's and light brush of the wood, his celerity driving him thoughout.

Upon comming to a cliff a few miles off, he perches himself atop it, and looks over the kingdom below, with a look to the moon he turns and darts back off into the wood. Getting but only a short distance from the cliff he is brought to a stop by a near by pack of wolves. With his knowledge in animal kin, and his discipline of animals he calls out to the male pack leader as beckons him to come to his side. Upon looking over the magnificent pack leader he thinks he would make a great unlife long companion, or for as long as it lives anyway.

Reaching to his boot he draws a dagger and slices open his wrist, and holds it out as the vitae spils from within. Being in tune and commanding the wolf it begins to lap the blood from his wrist. The ghouling process has begun.

A short time later, he sits with the wolf in the quiet stillness of the night, petting it's head slowly the both look to the moon, he grins and the wolf lets out a long echoing howl, as they arise and begin to walk back to the den together.

OOC: I was bored, if it sucks please tell me ~LOL~ I like to know peoples honest opinions of my work. Thanx.

Tim "Crazyfx" Larson


Posted on Mar 25, 2000, 9:39 PM

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Thy Nights Tidings..

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-=Thy late hour fell over the keep of My Lord. However, life still budded within a once dead hall. With keen eyes one could even detect laughter, still. These were emotions that would surely fade. With the passing of guests from his hall in strode the dark fae. From his room chosen amoung the many.. His armor now removed as he dressed casually. In the council room is where I found My Lord.. Sitting within his marble chair, an ever present stonic grin placed over a troubled brow.. Cascading his eyes towards the doorway ghaleon spoke=-

Ghaleon: "Ello V'Hare.. why be you wandering at such a dark hour of this eve?"

-=With a flash of silverish teeth biting from a small grin the hulking dark fae cast his eyes towards the "leader" of this guild and spoke. His words were soft at first, however the bitter venom of forethought stemmed with his second breath of words=-

V'Hare: "Oh, I merely wished to know the same of you. For myself anticipation courses through my veins.. Atlast we have made something of such a dead lineage.. Perhaps my coming here was not such a bad idea.. I shall see to the rigging of the traps this morn...

Oh.. and do try to keep such "undesirables" out. Like what walked here this morning.. "

-=Lowering his eyes for the moment, it was fate enough he though of her, and what they spoke on. One need not twist the dagger in such a wound.. His pain was timeless, still. He was learning. He knew how one felt when utter dispare enters your soul. He was learning how she felt. So long ago...=-

Ghaleon: " Please V'Hare.. I know your stance.. I can assure you. She dinna walk these halls once hence... Is that good enough?"

-=With furious outrage the Red cap unsheathed his sword and swung only to strike the cold stone table.. With a dark glint in his eyes he cursed out..=-

V'Hare: " NO. It is not.. If you wish this guild to live once more you must cast her from your thoughts.. To do as YOU HAVE SAID.. TO BE WILLING TO KILL ALL... EVEN HER IF CONTRACT COMETH...

-=With quick words and a temper such as mercury thy lords soul burned with rage. Rising from his chair he snickered and boasted about=-

Ghaleon: " You think I bare enough in mind to destroy something I cared so about? be you mad V'Hare. Or so hell bent on your own vices? You chose to aid me.. Dinna throw your life debt into this melting pot.. You CHOSE.. This be my Pack.. None others.. Still.. If it is needed then I shall swear towards you. and you towards me as well..

I shall fulfill all contracts brought forth if I feel there is just reasoning. YOU.. shall never question that reasoning. Do we have an agreement V'Hare Auldron.. Noble Knight of the X'ar Gormoryth lineage? Do we?"

-=Both thou and my lord placed our blades upon the table. for once I seemed to understand his reasoning. What drove him. Some once spoke of his mind being infected by devils. However, they were informed wrong. It was nae his mind which run rampant with the gibberished thoughts of melancoly. It was his heart. So I left the hall where My Lord hung his head and sorrow about him. For once. Leaving him be.. =-


Posted on Mar 20, 2000, 9:29 AM

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~Placing trash where trash belongs....~

by The Dark One



~She stabs a plain dagger deeply into the board, his crumpled parchment pierced through the center. She scrawls out plainly over his request a simple word he should understand.~
Never...
~With that she turns having left the trash he so blatantly posts on her property.~



Posted on Mar 18, 2000, 7:16 AM

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