Message 1 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 23 18:06:03 1997 EDT From: shimmer (#18718) To: *Storylines (#5236) Shimmer smiled as he looked down over the ledge, checking to see if any dragons were currently around.. he nodded to himself, placing more rocks into his pockets and labcoat, a tear ran down his cheek, "loves.. I will be with you shortly.." he smiled to himself, then dropped a small quartz rock and pendant from his hands and let them hit the solid ground of the ledge.. He drew in a deep breath, then gracefully leapt off the ledge, his body falling at well over 100 mps... the ground grew closer, the pressure made him fall unconcious in midair... the eagle grabbed his soul, moving it to a place past his grasp, and setting it free.. just as Shimmers body slammed into the solid earth, blood flowing from a groove in his skull as a rock cleaved it in two.. his arms and legs splayed in hidiously abnormal angles.. Shimmer died the very anniversary of his family's death.. -------------------------- Message 2 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 23 18:54:25 1997 EDT From: Lise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Waiting for change. Lise searched around in the tent she had inhabited. IT was crude, dark and empty, with little more than a few fabrics for blanket to use. She did not care. She only planned in her head, how she would achieve the goal she wished. She realized soon that what she had talked over with Stryfe so long ago was what she truly wished. The dragonriders had grown sickneing to her very ears. They assumed so quickly she was infested with the sickness of the broken bond. It was evident they had forgotten who she was before. How cold, how emotionless, how true she was. The bond had broken her, changed her. It had softened her and forced her to be like the rest of them. Lise growled slightly to herself. She would have to change what had bercome of her. Thyvoras'rath's death was the key to this, regardless of what the others believed. She had become herself again, and the rest would simply have to accept the truths. Her only need now was to find Stryfe. With his help, the acceptance would come much quicker. -------------------------- Message 3 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 23 19:32:38 1997 EDT From: Serenio (#19730) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Working and Loving it. Serino woke up abruptly, untangling herself from Akane, falling on the floor in a tangle of bed sheets. "Shit," she mumbled to herself. Excitement tingled through her body as she picked herself up off the floor. Akane had spoken to her about the new spell he was working on, a spell to take a soul from a living being. "What if I could contain a soul?" she whispered, "Vile and vile of helpless souls." Dancing around the room, her mind whirling with the prospect, "What if I could interject some how, some way a soul of one person into another....?" She stood in the middle of the bedroom smiling at Akane as he slept, "Oh Akane, who knew when I found you, you would become such a wonderful tool for me." Grabbing her things from the floor and wardrobe, scratching out a note for Akane to meet her in the lab when he awoke, she headed out to the wastelands. -------------------------- Message 4 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 23 19:56:25 1997 EDT From: Milamber (#11545) To: *Druids (#12232) and *Storylines (#5236) The Tecumpah sat admist his branched alcove, deep in thought. He considered the path the druidic order has taken lately, and its connection to Gaia that shown stronger than ever before. He gave thanks to Eldorath, the great tree of the wastes that the brotherhood calls its home. Milamber pressed his palms into the living bark, communing with the sentient tree. His eyes assumed a far-away look and his body grew unnaturally still. Breathe appeared to barely escape his lips, though his chest rose and fell, rose and fell with the passage of time. .Sol set...Luna rose... And still Milamber maintained his silent pose. .Luna set...Sol rose... And the Druid suddenly exlained, "I understand!" For the language of the Earth was revealed to Milamber. The Tecumpah smiled as he rose, leaving his alcove in search of the other druids inhabiting the tree. He made ways to the Weathered Cricle, the private meeting place of the brotherhood. "Come, my students," his voice rang throughout Eldorath. "Come, and I shall teach you her language." -------------------------- Message 5 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 24 11:28:58 1997 EDT From: Goldheart (#20159) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Sheep From: Goldheart; location classified To: Shadeaux; Crystallian Order Re: The sheep are in the fold... The sheep are in the fold?!? What kind of code is that? Get that idiot noviate in the cryptography room to stop playing games with the telefaxer. . --End of Transmission -------------------------- Message 6 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 24 20:26:45 1997 EDT From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Insanity! Khyber sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands across his face, his eyes bloodshot red from lack of sleep, he looks to Aislyn, grinning slightly at her sleeping form, then looking towards the chameleon dragon, his voice raspy, "We must get from Morlith.." he cackled madly, tossing his flaming katana at the wall of the cavern, "This place'll be the death of me... they all hate me.." the flaming katana hit the wall with a brief flare of flame.. he stood up, grabbing the ivory katana by its obsidian hilt, and walking out into the living cavern... -------------------------- Message 7 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 24 23:30:56 1997 EDT From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Bad day huh? Khyber went into the living caverns, he had talked with Yalindra and almost attacked the small hatchling she was with, the only thing he could think about was killing demons, almost every person he saw was a demon in his eyes. He quickly came down to the R/T to find himself a demon to kill, he first attacked the one known as Sater, crushing his skull, he then quickly accused Solitude of being a demon, Nikita denied this and said Toraxyn was a demon, his mind began to cloud up, he became quite calm for a few minutes.. That is, until Sinner showed up, sinner's firey eyes and demonic voice gave Khyber the willies, he decided he was not going to have this, tho he was not thinking in his own mind, he blindly attacked sinner, and to make things worse, Brinn showed up just as he was about to have his prey. She quickly put up a seperation spell, telling sinner to leave, sinner ran quickly, Khyber then approached the young woman, a few words were exchanged and Brinn used some sort of sleep spell upon Khyber, to his advantage, his endurance kept him awake, he swung blindly, striking blindly at Brinn. Khyber fled then soon after, glancing at his Statlink, he determined the exact location of Sinner, he hoped in a ship and took off, racing to N'orleans, there he met sinner, brinn was communicating over the communicator with him, attempting to call him down by talking about his future wife and kid. Khyber had become calm at these words, yet something inside of him arroused, he lept at Sinner, kicking him squarly in the chest with his feet, raking his dual long knives down the length of Sinner's body. Sinner cried out in pain, blood and bone spewed over the area, Khyber kicked the corpse, getting a couple of crystals, yet he was not satisfied, brinn had persueded him to return to his cavern at Morlith, Khyber stated he would be Demon Hunting again very shortly, the name of his prey--Morpheus. -------------------------- Message 8 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 24 23:53:41 1997 EDT From: Sinner (#12411) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hunter's Prey.. Appearing out of the shadows of moonlight, Sinner entered the Real Time Lounge, expecting a usual fight between the regulars. But as he entered, he observed Khyber embracing Toraxyn's arms, mumbling something about daemons. Curosity perked, he quickly stepped into the conversation. His eyes flaming as the firey depths of hell, and now, his vocal cords were starting to mutate. Obviously, Sinner was not a human. Something flared within the brink of Khyber's sanity as he saw Sinner. The adrenaline pumping through his veins, anger overwhelming him, he approached Sinner, bringing him to the ground in a monster hug. Sinner gasped for air, as if it was scarce. Khyber stood, and took out his legendary knife. Sinner quickly rolled out of the way of Khyber's mindless stabs, from the floor, to behind the bar. Khyber quickly rushed over to the bar, stabbing between it. He leaned over the bar, taking Sinner's neck in his hands, and lifted him up towards the ceiling. Suddenly, from Brinn's hands, spewed out a magical array of a rainbow, seperating the two. Sinner quickly darted for the door, into parts unknown. He hid in the cockpit of the McKinney, figuring there would be no way Khyber could actually find him. He plotted a course to return to his temperary home, New Orleans, and within minutes, he was there. Unfortunatly, so was Khyber, with his legendary knife. With a quick thrust to the chest, a dark, unholy scream, and a nightmare ended, Sinner.. was slain. -------------------------- Message 9 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun May 25 14:26:37 1997 EDT From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Retrieval Shadows swirled around her form, dark and brooding. The air crackled with energy so thick that it would sear a man's flesh lest he came near. Soft chanting echoed throughout the room. She was summoning something. Sparks of energy crackled inside of a pack, quite a ways from her. She didn't allow it to catch fire, although the temptation was great. A cylindrical-shaped object glimmered for a few moments and then found its way to her hand. In its place, she filled the pack with shadow, the force strong enough to amputate the next limb inserted within its depths. A delicious smile crossed her lips. It seemed she had a new target now. There could be no room for another Mage to undo her work. The owner of the pack was in store for surprises. Looking down at the collar in her hand, a streak of lightning bore down to cleanse it. The wearer of the collar beware as well. Axelle was by no means near finished. A flurry of shadow encased her form again. There was one more... -------------------------- Message 10 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun May 25 21:35:59 1997 EDT From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Retrival #2. Severe winds blew around the armor-clad form, and electrical sparks ignited the air. A grand whirlwind of shadow enveloped her, lasting for a few moments before dissipating. When the storm subsided, she lay half-buried in the wasteland's sand. A small cylindrical object was wound around her fingers...this time it took shape in a necklace. Deep green eyes glittered in the semi-darkness. Things were going according to plan. -------------------------- Message 11 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 26 11:44:57 1997 EDT From: Toraxyn (#19315) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Passing thoughts. (No freakin' rating) Toraxyn stood, his back resting against the great branches of Eldorath, watching over the sleeping form of Alluvia. Sleep would not find him yet. As was normal, he supressed it as long as he could. With sleep came the dreams, and those he wished to avoid with the greatest frequency. So he watched her, in her seemingly undying happiness, apparent even as she slept so soundly, and he thought... Days ago he had spoken to Milamber about staying at the tree himself. Milamber seemed surprised by the news of Alluvia's pregnancy, and Toraxyn's desire to be with her. The Tecumpah very graciously granted the request, even going as far as to beseech Gaia to make a place in her tree in which the child could be born. Toraxyn searched him silently for any sign of ulterior motive in this kindness, but could find none... he seemed entirely sincere. The straight-forward and honest nature of the druid caught him off guard, and perhaps put his cynicism at rest, if only for a moment. He pondered his future, now. Would the quiet life of a druid satisfy him? Unlikely, he valued his diversity in magic too greatly. He would remain here as long as he was allowed to, perhaps delving into the study of their magics, but he would not join them, and limit his options as such. What would come of his relationship with Alluvia? His hand moved to tenderly stroke her cheek, lightening the touch as she stirred restfully. He would stay with her, keep her safe, even marry her if the need be. The love had overtaken him for once, and a part of him hated it bitterly for this. Though subdued for a time, the pain would eventually follow when love had taken and finished it's course. His emotions would not be sealed so easily this time. He slumped quietly in the corner of the bower, and allowed the thoughts of magic to encompass him. The energy twisted and shaped in his mind into a thousand possible spells, until it led him off into a disturbed sleep. -------------------------- Message 12 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 26 12:24:35 1997 EDT From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Chat (#5391) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: [OOC] New Pets Seems I've neglected my Pets (thought in reality, would be more concise to call them Axelle's henchmen/allies) and I want to redevelop that. Have got a few available collars. From what I hear, some of us are going to try to rebirth the BC. Having these collars filled would be a plus. :) Let me know if you are interested. Otherwise I think I might just go around beating up people and taking them for myself. *laugh* As if I could! *wink* Heh, think I just want some fun people to RP with. That and to re-establish Axelle as more than just a 'nice woman'. ;) -------------------------- Message 13 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 26 21:04:15 1997 EDT From: Callie (#10646) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Sinner . .Activate Log >..Subject : Beta 651-4482-I-31 >>Subject ID Sinner. Confirm??? >..Confirm >>Activating . >>Analysis >>Subject is infused with matter from alternate spacetime. re: Cambian. >>Infusion is source of radical physiological transformation. >>Subject desires termination of intrusion. >>Subject's resistance is interfering with transformation. >>End result of transformation could be a desirable servant caste. >> >>Proposed Action >>By triggering the latent metamorphic qualities of the matter, an alleviation of the physical changes can be achieved. >>With no physical manifestation of the transformation, subject's active resistance should abate thereby accelerating the transformation. >>End subject can be rendered docile by induced addiction to a chemical introduced as part of the curative process. >> >>End of Report .Append >>Appending . .Introduced subject to serum designed to produce desired results. .Added an agent to overload subject's pain receptors. The resultant agony should enhance the illusion that the cure is working. Will reduce quantity of the agent in subsequent doses. .\File >>Filing .Deactivate Log >>Log Closed . -------------------------- Message 14 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 29 11:09:14 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Ylaerin smiled sleepily, and curled closer into Yshar. She'd had a night of troubled dreaming, but was comforted by the familiarty of home and the scent of dragon (how some people could claim to dislike the smell was beyond her.. it always seemed warm and welcoming somehow). Her music was coming along fine, although her husband had complained of missing her since she was so busy... but then.. She thought about her pregnancy, she'd told so few people herself - she stayed at home too much - but she was certain Yshar had told more than a few people. He was happy, though not as obviously anxoius and excited about as she was. She wondered breifly if it was too soon into their marriage for this, and pushed the thought aside. She was only about 2 months along, anyhow.. there was plenty of time. Luthe snorted in his sleep, and she smiled. He'd been flying better lately, if what he did could be called flying... and she thought again about the Soulbonding. It couldn't come soon enough for the two of them. Yshar had been worried she would be consumed by the Bond; and Ylaerin wondered at his worry. Surely, her Bond with Luthe would be a close one.. maybe even closer than most. but she had looked for this her whole life, and then some; and her husband was more important to her than any other living person could be. She put an arm around Yshar, and smiled at his sleeping face. Their life, *her* life, was finally becoming what it was meant to be.. and there were no clouds on the horizon. At least.. none that she could see. -------------------------- Message 15 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 30 18:20:43 1997 EDT From: Jamie (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Finally Jamie rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and looked down at the sleeping babies. It didnt seem like they did much except sleep and eat, constantly. She was damn tired but the lack of sleep was well worth it. She reached over and lightly touched Erin's bright Red hair, being careful not to disturb her rest. They both looked so much like their father, only Erin's hair marking her as a child of Jamies. Grady's hair was as black as coal. Jamie smiled and wondered on their temperments. Hell to pay if they were as strong minded as Red was, but that would make them strong adults also. She could see them making a lot trouble. Jamie thought back to the other night. She had been scared but Red was there and Eldran seemed to know what he was doing, even respecting her wish for nothing magic. She would have to find some way to thank him for all he had done. Soon they would plant the trees at the Oasis, she would think of something by then. Jamie snuggled back under the heavy blankets on the bed. Life was wonderful. Red would make an excellent father. Her children would grow up strong and proud. OOC and since my mind just went blank.. i'll end this post here. -------------------------- Message 16 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 2 19:00:40 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Contracts and Negotiations. As Rathe finished dictation, the small scribe demon nodded once, setting the black quill back in its inkwell. Rathe smiled, and extended his hand, taking the sheaf of papers. Banishing the imp with a brief gesture, he set the papers before him, and examined each. The first was a letter addressed to Stryfe, the head of the order of the wyrm. Sir Stryfe, It has come to my attention that the ranks of Uruken have grown unnaturally quiet. No strikes go on against Morlith, and with your emissary, Khyber, on the mount.. One would wonder if you had taken to the idea of diplomacy with the riders! I remember the fervor with which the Order of the Wyrm operated in the days of Embryon, and it saddens me to witness the glory that once was Uruken's diminish so rapidly. True, we no longer have an asset like Embryon to aid us, but surely with allies like Red Fang, Lykaj, and Moonheart, your power is quite possibly at a peak, even in comparison to the Embryon days. What I propose is a meeting. Not as rivals or enemies, nor as possible employer and employee, but as equals. My skill with magic would certainly be an asset to you, and dealing with a power like Uruken is certainly beneficial to myself. I fully realize your first response to this message may be negative. Perhaps you remember my days as a seeker, when I approached you for employment, and some less than preferable events occured. Admittedly, I allowed emotion to govern my actions, and as a result perhaps lost honor in the wyrm's view. I offer my word, for what it may still be worth to your order, that such an instance will not reoccur. Enclosed is a small token to encourage you in your... decision. If you have a mage examine it, you may recognize it as a piece of a dragon's tooth. The process to enchant it to the stage you currently witness it as took approximately two weeks. The application for purposes of focus is extensive for those who practice the dark arts. Keep it, it should prove a useful item for any other mages who might be in your employ.. Signed, Magister Rathe Chuckling quietly to himself, Rathe signed the letter with a flourish, folded it neatly, and tucked it into a parchment envelope. He plucked the small black figurine off of his desk, and held it up to the light filtering in through a crack in one of the heavy velvet curtains. It depicted a single dragon skeleton of pitch black, wrapped around a bone sphere. The sphere was slightly lighter, it's surface swirling much like a storm cloud. He dropped the two inch tall carving into the envelope, closed it, and set it upon his desk, reaching into a pouch to retrieve his signet ring. Turning one of the black candles on it's side, he let the wax drip onto the parchment envelope, sealing it, and pressing the signet ring into it. Satisfied, he set the envelope on the far corner of his desk, and took up the second letter, addressed to the future Dragonmage, Brinn. Friend Brinn, I request an audience on morlith some time in the near future. I wish to exchange information regarding the magic arts, as well as such on the dragons.. Kindly reply with a time in the near future; I already have permission from the Dragonmistress for passage to and from morlith, although I will need a dragon arranged for transportation. I hope to hear from you soon. Rathe This too Rathe signed, and sealed. He glanced at the signet ring briefly before slipping it back into its pouch. The ring portrayed a serpent wound about a gpage janus no friggen joke. Finally got my modem fixed :) -------------------------- Message 17 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 2 19:01:25 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Bleah I'll re-send that. Friggen qsend :P -------------------------- Message 18 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 2 19:06:54 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Contracts and Negotiations. As Rathe finished dictation, the small scribe demon nodded once, setting the black quill back in its inkwell. Rathe smiled, and extended his hand, taking the sheaf of papers. Banishing the imp with a brief gesture, he set the papers before him, and examined each. The first was a letter addressed to Stryfe, the head of the order of the wyrm. Sir Stryfe, It has come to my attention that the ranks of Uruken have grown unnaturally quiet. No strikes go on against Morlith, and with your emissary, Khyber, on the mount.. One would wonder if you had taken to the idea of diplomacy with the riders! I remember the fervor with which the Order of the Wyrm operated in the days of Embryon, and it saddens me to witness the glory that once was Uruken's diminish so rapidly. True, we no longer have an asset like Embryon to aid us, but surely with allies like Red Fang, Lykaj, and Moonheart, your power is quite possibly at a peak, even in comparison to the Embryon days. What I propose is a meeting. Not as rivals or enemies, nor as possible employer and employee, but as equals. My skill with magic would certainly be an asset to you, and dealing with a power like Uruken is certainly beneficial to myself. I fully realize your first response to this message may be negative. Perhaps you remember my days as a seeker, when I approached you for employment, and some less than preferable events occured. Admittedly, I allowed emotion to govern my actions, and as a result perhaps lost honor in the wyrm's view. I offer my word, for what it may still be worth to your order, that such an instance will not reoccur. Enclosed is a small token to encourage you in your... decision. If you have a mage examine it, you may recognize it as a piece of a dragon's tooth. The process to enchant it to the stage you currently witness it as took approximately two weeks. The application for purposes of focus is extensive for those who practice the dark arts. Keep it, it should prove a useful item for any other mages who might be in your employ.. Signed, Magister Rathe Chuckling quietly to himself, Rathe signed the letter with a flourish, folded it neatly, and tucked it into a parchment envelope. He plucked the small black figurine off of his desk, and held it up to the light filtering in through a crack in one of the heavy velvet curtains. It depicted a single dragon skeleton of pitch black, wrapped around a bone sphere. The sphere was slightly lighter, it's surface swirling much like a storm cloud. He dropped the two inch tall carving into the envelope, closed it, and set it upon his desk, reaching into a pouch to retrieve his signet ring. Turning one of the black candles on it's side, he let the wax drip onto the parchment envelope, sealing it, and pressing the signet ring into it. Satisfied, he set the envelope on the far corner of his desk, and took up the second letter, addressed to the future Dragonmage, Brinn. Friend Brinn, I request an audience on morlith some time in the near future. I wish to exchange information regarding the magic arts, as well as such on the dragons.. Kindly reply with a time in the near future; I already have permission from the Dragonmistress for passage to and from morlith, although I will need dragon arranged for transportation. I hope to hear from you soon. Rathe This too Rathe signed, and sealed. He glanced at the signet ring briefly before slipping it back into its pouch. The ring portrayed a serpent wound about a golden apple. A trigram surrounded the image, almost invisible writing on each corner revealing the runes of the shadow, earth, and spirit. The symbol's golden apple and trigram were part of the mark of chaos, a symbol Rathe had come upon during his recent studies of the demonic inhabitants of the chaos plane of the abyss. The serpent symbolized deceit, but also slyness, and cunning. The three elemental runes added the final characterization, marking his specialties in black, elemental earth, and soul energy magics. Rathe grinned to himself, wondering what the little dragonmage might think of such a symbol. Either she would take him as a lunatic (The mark of chaos was generally considered unlucky to make use of), or she might adopt some proper respect.. At least she would see him as her rightful equal. Subtle things such as the use of the chaos mark were much more effective than brute magical or physical pressure in manipulating one's foe (Or supposed, perhaps possible ally).. Of course, little Brinn probably had little reason to study the abyss, aligned with the mount as she was.. The difficulty in corrupting the small piece of tooth, but a fragment of one of the dragons, made the mount's (And by association, Brinn's) alignment in the scheme of things obvious. Shrugging briefly, Rathe murmured an incantation, and reached into his robe, pulling out a handful of black sand. He tossed the sand into air before him, finishing the incantation as the sand began to whirl. It took on a vague manlike shape after several moments, as the air elemental coalesced into existence on this plane. Rathe raised his right hand palm-up, and the elemental did the same. Rathe grinned, and snatched the two letters off the desk, setting them in the elemental's outstretched palm. "Uruken with the first, Morlith with the second," Rathe said, and glanced out one of the windows towards the nearby mount. "You may experience some trouble getting past guards around both, skeletal and flesh dragons. Be stealthy, and deposit each to guards on the mountains." The air elemental's head nodded, and the dust dissipated. Rathe noted that the air elemental would disperse once it reached it's own point of power, ironically enough, the magical energies there would destroy it. But not before the note reached a guard on morlith, then Brinn. The deliveries arranged, he turned his attention to the rest of the papers. Notes were scrawled along the edges in runic script, taken by the minor demon who had been aiding him. The papers in general represented a hundred and fifty years of magical research on soul energy manipulation through contracts. He had made several errors in his earlier contracts with Serenio and Appalene, errors that could have cost him a good deal of profit had they been intelligent enough to spot them. Fortunately they had not been, and the errors had gone un-noticed. He could not allow such errors in the future, especially if contracts became necessary with Brinn and Stryfe, as they might well be. Neither were likely to trust him, and contracts might very well be needed to back up his word. Rathe tossed the papers onto his desk, and rose, casting a glance around the room. He had not left this place in weeks, his studies had not permitted for playing games in the lounge.. or much else. The general state of the room clearly reflected this. Rathe had heard of Coreen's ascendance only recently, and had visted her but four days ago (Had it been four, or more? He could not recall, time seemed to pass much more quickly when he became absorbed in study ) in the lounge. It would soon be time to rein her in and place her properly in check.. He had waited much too long, and Coreen's new rise to greater power would place some complications on his plans. However, she would be more useful than ever as a magistra. The combined power of two magisters reached something close to an equal to adept power. Once Rathe secured either Gideon or Oryama as a teacher, his rise to adepthood, and the power therein, would not be too long in coming. Still, untill (and even after) that time, a magistra, especially one with Coreen's potential, would be a valuable asset. The applications for geas-enforced contracts alone were extensive. The opportunities that would soon present themselves to him were vast indeed, the gains in knowledge and power extensive.. Perhaps he could even afford to deal with some of his old foes permanently. He wanted no obstacles when his further plans unfolded. [OOC: *cackles* I'm baaaaaaaack! Equipped with a new modem and a couple weeks of MOOing to make up for, I'll once again be the terror (or laughing stock, heh.) of the wheel! So, watch out, kiddies ;) Rathe's back, and there's trouble to be made :)] -------------------------- Message 19 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 2 22:01:24 1997 EDT From: WolfKnight (#16552) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Two control objects WolfKnight had known that he was used/helped when he arrived on Jizo island that factefull day, his life hanging on by a single thread of life force... though he received lifesaving help from Dakiron Industries experts.... though he didnt know what else they performed on him he was grate- ful for there help...... Ever since he left Jizo island he felt that he was connected to a wolf as he would get images of hunting/killing/eating live animals, though this wasn't at all strange to him... he did decide if he would find out to who or what he was *connected* to, if even he was... he felt a strange pulling to the R/T building... so he followed it, turning up to the R/T building without a clue of what he would find.... Wolfknight walked into the R/T lounge and ordered himself a ale, sitting at the bar he began to drink his ale, noticing some humans a strange bull like creatue a tiger like creature (which both seemed to be quite intelligent creatures.. cuse they were speaking a language), as more people filtered into the lounge wolfknight introduced himself to a patron that was drinking some foul smelling liquid, after introductions they got to talking of the happenings of the area..... Part two following -------------------------- Message 20 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 2 22:28:20 1997 EDT From: WolfKnight (#16552) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Control objects part 2 first Wolfknight enquired on the two strange looking beasts the patron laughed rather to loud for wolfknights liking, not wishing to attract to much notice to himself. the patron explained that Dakiron Industries experiments in creating recombs, for quite some time they discussed the morale aspects of such acts and came to the conclusions if no-one elsed mined what they were doing why the hell should they... after refilling the patrons mug yet again wolfknight ventured to tell this patron about the mysterious feeling he was having after he was saved on Jizo Island, at hearing this the patron hunckered down and started to whisper so not to be heard by other patrons sitting close by. I would suspect that they tried an experiment on you with a wolf, I would bet! I heard myself abvout strange goings on recently about mind control or something along those lines.... no nothing like what dragon riders and there dragons experience though I suspect that Dakiron was trying to re-create the same effect.... tis my bet that theres a wolf recomb roaming around without a master.... well yeah I would suspect you could be its master though I'm not to sure on dakiron's policy about that you could contact them and enquire, though I doubt they would give out information if the experiment failed" the parton pauses for a second to pour the contents of his drink down his throat, "...hmmmm, if you meet me here this time tomorrow I could find out something for ya, but if I show up with anything you'll going to have to pay for it, as information does'nt come for free around here", with that the patron staggers to his feet and lurches out of the lounge, complaining rather loudly about having to walk..... Wolfknight hands over some crystals to pay for the drinks starts to stand and sees a wolf recomb walk in, the feeling in him lurches his inner being so hard that wolfknight passes out, falling hard on his stall, hitting his head and knocking himself out. Wolfknight wakes with a start, as a cold bucket of water is poured on him sputtering he mumbles, "what happened?" Oz grins, "looks like ya cant hold your liquor!" oz turns to serve another patron. Wolfknight slowly stands grabbing the stool looking around he see's that the wolf is still at the lounge... part 3 following ;p -------------------------- Message 21 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 2 23:14:46 1997 EDT From: WolfKnight (#16552) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: control objects part 3 still feeling the pull towards the wolf he moves slowly towards the creature, suddenly the wolf turns and looks straight into Wolfknights eyes, bowing deeply it kneels infront of Wolfknight, "Greetings master! I have waited along time for you...", grinning two great silver fangs showing it gets up, looks around seeing that some patrons looking at them he motions for wolfknight to follow him out.... In reaching the Round Room the wolf turns, "Your name is Wolfknight is it not?" wolfknight nods, unable to speak. "Let me introduce myself, my name is demonwolf I was there when you were recovered on Jizo island, actually I was the one who found you... I'll explain more when we are alone, its not really safe to talk out in the open like this, for information is power... well to some it is" with that demonwolf disappears down the pedestal, wolfknight promptly follows him down, "follow me if you would like to know more.." with that demonwolf pads away.... wolfknight runs to chatch up. Demonwolf leads wolfknight through a intricate maze under the building leading to a cavern, "this is my den... Now I am your slave but not as such, for dakiron industries wanted to create control objects, so in a way I am loyal to you but that is only because they tried to make me more human or have more human qualities, more dominate not submissive as many Recombs you will see here in ghostwheel..." Demonwolf pauses, "...hmmm, though I'm submissive if you have to objects that persuade me...." Demonwolf looks deeply into WolfKnights eyes, "I'm only telling you this because I spent many weeks studing you" WolfKnnight nods slowly, "what are these objects you are talking about .. how long was I at jizo? and why didn't they tell me all this? how do you know all this?", Demonwolf howls with laughter, "thats becuase I was able to look at your file they created on you! and take the objects" still grinning demonwolf removes a rose from a pack, "the objects are like this, well actually this was one, but I had a mage dis-enchant it! it still works to acertain extent though not as powerful as the other two" wolfknight expclaims, "other two? roses? heh..." wolfknight starts to turn around as a stuff slams against his head. "all will be explained better when you wake up, master.... for now sleep", wolfknight slumbs to the ground, losing consciousness. Rubbing his head wolfknight scans the room for the wolf, groaning he sits up, glad that the wolf was gone, looking to the ground wolfknight sees a note with the red rose on it, grabbing the rose he stuff's it in his tunic, reaching over he reads the note, finaly understanding what the wolf was saying. Wolfknight grabs a quill and starts to write a note for the wolf, saying that he was going to recover the objects Wolfknight (hmmm, going to get *flamed for this aren't I jayren?) -------------------------- Message 22 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jun 3 14:38:37 1997 EDT From: Duke (#20175) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Strange Feelings Duke boarded the copter at once. Hurrying to get home. All of a sudden duke colapses in the middle of the floor dreaming of something unknown. The dream was a large valley, a sign ready Wolf Moon valley. Duke ran around playfully like a kid panther. Akll of a sudden the world around him got dark. A mysterious darkness not like night dfarkness. The howling of wolves was all around him, and then.. *POOF* Duke woke up. He found himself in the copter again. He sat their for half an hour wondering what exactly the dream was about. he had a hunch that this dream was not just an ordinary dream, he felt that he should go to the valley, for some reason unknown to him for know. -------------------------- Message 23 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jun 3 20:38:32 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Poster found stapled to the wall in the R/T Lounge. ATTENTION PARENTS! Thinking of having a kid? A cute little screaming thing that spits up food and shits it's pants? Well, Here's a few things to take into consideration before letting the cream cheese flow from your loins: 1: Stains. Thats right, Stains. It is estimated that at the time of this notice, 3 women have broken water in the R/T lounge. What a mess! And the smell... Someone has to clean all that up. Know who? That's right, Osbornn. And I hear he's gettin pretty sick of it. Old boy carries a shotgun, or so I have heard.. 2:Bills. You know how much it costs to take care of a kid? Not to mention ransoms for when they're kidnapped (GW Beaurau of Crime Statistics estimate that 2 out of every 3 large undertakings in crime is a kidnapping. Your child could be an easy target. 3: Sure, She told you that having a kid'd be great. Red was even rumored to offer tax breaks for Those who have kids.. BUT, you'll find yourself quickly settling down. That's right, Mr. Archmage, no more sacrificing virgins to demons for power. Uh uh. You gotta feed the baby. So Next time, THINK! Help Prevent Genetic Abnormalities--USE A RUBBER. Thank you --The Council for Ghostwheel Population Control -------------------------- Message 24 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jun 3 20:40:20 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Hmm, well, that got screwed up in the editor. You get the point.. NO MORE HAVE A KID TPS! -------------------------- Message 25 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 4 08:41:54 1997 EDT From: Yalindra (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The gift of life revisited (R?) Yalindra was in the Lounge when her water broke - it was time to bring her daughter into the world. She was carried into the Greenroom and set in the hammock by her husband, and she removed her boots and chaps, preparing herself with memories of her last pregnancy. She did not like the pain, but the rewards were definitely worth it... The contractions came and went, and she felt the child move within her. A woman named Josie happened by and offered to help as a midwife...Yalindra graciously accepted, remembering how Devon had fainted when Kijindei was born... She squeezed his hand with every contraction, and it was beginning to turn a dark shade of purple until he asked her to squeeze a little lighter. After a long wait riddled with pain and exhaustion, Yalindra finally pushed her daughter forth into the world...and she was a beautiful baby at that... One look at the baby's soft skin told her that she would turn men's heads when she attained maturity...Devon seemed to feel that she would be strong in the areas of magic as well... Yalindra smiled. Her daugther and son would be raised in the way of her tribe if she had anything to say about it... Mages indeed.... Yalindra held her now-sleeping daughter to her chest softly and fell into a contented slumber, a smile on her face as she dreamt of what Devon would say when she told him her intentions for the children... -------------------------- Message 26 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jun 6 15:50:35 1997 EDT From: Smoke (#11265) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dreams and Stuff The nightmare returned, continuos...always the same. She couldn't shake the feeling that the person hunting her was someone she knew, someone she trusted. Smoke awoke just before the katana within her nightmare struck her. As her eyes adjusted to the semi darkness she relaxed, breathing deep she knew she was safe. Slipping off her clothes, she snuggled deeper under the covers feeling safe, warm. Why she was here in his house, his bed, was almost beyond her comprehension. All she knew is that he found her, healed her and gave her a place to stay. Her stomach fluttered slightly as she thought of him just before sleep embraced her once again. -------------------------- Message 27 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jun 6 22:47:57 1997 EDT From: Olalla (#20234) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: To let the sponges suck the life from you... Olalla grimaced. Another injury for another day. She knew her mouth ran farther than her feet could carry her for the retaliation blows. But why would she care? It wouldn't endanger her crew. She'd never let it. And if she had tea with the Eagle a few more times than she wished oh well. What did it matter anymore what those sponges did to her. It just bounced away. Or did it... Since Rathe's little electrocution-of-pleasure the loss of her crew kept playing a nagging role in her mind. Her mind flipped back to Robert, her one time fiancee. She could hear him trying to stop her, to calm her when her anger rose. [Baby, that anger just doesn't suit you. You're loosing yourself in it. You won't see me that quick. Its not your time Baby... its not your time] Olalla kicked herself. "Don't tell me that shit Robert... don't say that shit." She looked around. An empty room. Darkness. She was screaming to herself again, to the invisible voice of him inside her head. She had lost her entire world to those sponges. She had lost him to the sponges.. It made her want to fight each and every one with a hate colder than the coldest feeling she had felt. "I'm not loosing another squad that way. I'm not giving in to those assholes again Robert. I lost you once... I lost you." Olalla didn't weep, though she shook hard enough. She wanted to, but there was no way she could. She wasn't like that anymore. She couldn't be like that anymore. If she did, she'd make the same mistake. And that just couldn't happen. -------------------------- Message 28 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 9 22:37:43 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: I must Create a System or be enslav'd by another Man's. I will not Reason and Compare: my business is to Create. friday 24 october, 2638 16:38 ...it is getting cold in the cabin, the fire now a few smoldering lumps of charcoal and a cold pile of dead ash. It's been weeks since I last cleaned out the pit, and the woodpile is little more than a few green branches hidden beneath a covering of damp, moldy hay. The valley stretches out like an emerald blanket beneath the patches of mist, the pass a string of brown, a regretful mistake in the weft, something that doesn't belong, a trace of human presence... ...I try and capture the (more?most?) coherent moments of the day, if they occur, in hopes that when or if the maddness ever passes, I will still have some sense of who I was and how I came to be here. My pen trembles at the knowledge though, this "I" will fade with the setting sun, and as the night takes hold of the valley below, the other will enter through the black hole of my pupils, confining me to the abyss. Perhaps "I" will return in the morning, or the day after tomorow, or next week, or never...until then I will only hear the distant murmur of the dream disguised as the screech of the Condor that keeps it's nest in the trees below... At first I reconciled myself to the sense of panic that always entered through the door in the dead of night, its cold wordless stare always the same, as if this was not my home at all, but His, and I was a startled intruder. Then I saw the stare, standing before Lykaj, the same mocking grin, the sense of powerlessness as life slipped from my grasp. Each deafening blast of the shotgun obliterated another small piece of my self's foundations, till the focused image finally collapsed, leaving only the most twisted and distorted scraps of memory and imagination... when I am sane the world seems rigid, the light and dark forming a solid contrast, no grey...then the bell rings, critical mass is again acheived, and suddenly the faces of even my dearest friends (and bitterest foes) take on the sense of enigmatic absurdity, the / between inner/outer becomes obscured. Am I now dreaming, waiting to enter the world of consciousness? Or am I descending into the cavern, waiting for REM sleep to begin? These, methinks, should not be the most complicated issues... -------------------------- Message 29 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 9 23:08:48 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: cont'd Now only the tips of the mountain remains in the sun's path, the sense of dread rustling in the trees, a tiny dot far down along the path, clomping along on an old paint, the even rhythm of the shoeless hooves like a knock at the door. Is it only paranoia, or is there something there, in the tangle of vine and branch, drawn by the scratching of my pen on the paper... Yesterday I saw him, no longer a dream, others had seen him too. A mad demon escaped from the back of my mind. "Hey there Haiiirrissooonnn..." Ignoring him had done nothing to make the image fade, he taunted and mocked me, mocked the souless and predictable being I've become, as Lyk had done, only now it wasn't some other being's wrath drawn out by my jealous rant, it was my own self-hatred, made manifest, given bone and blood and voice...I was reduced to a child, a cowering fool, and my strength left me. I lashed out with my sword, pure and blind anger mixed with the sort of nasuea one feels when they first look into the mirror after a three-day drunk, the eyes hollow, the hair matted, a bruise or a blood stain who's cause is unknown, but each strike only twisted his painted grin, made his face more horrific, and quietly reminded me of my own cowardice... I try and remember now who I was before, when the earth was still bright and alive, when I was a husband, a son, a brother, when I had a place and the comfort of belonging, but it seems to grow more with each passing day....HE is dead, and I am only the caretaker, waiting anxiously for the new owner to arrive and take possesion of the grounds. The horse and rider draw closer, the sun sets, night has arrived... I hear something scratch at the window...the voice of my father..."Harrison...where is yer brother? Where is Jared..." I don't reply...go down the mountain...its freezing in here...my bones ache...the jingling of the reins..."Where is Jared?" knock knock knock...the handle turns...the door creaks open...i have to go now... -------------------------- Message 30 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 9 23:17:22 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: the above OOC NOTe: Copies of my new book "Down and out on the Lousi and Clark Trail" is now available for $23.95 from Viking Press...it's 1217 pages and details my exploits as a big game hunter in the belgian congo (ca. 1937) as well as never before seen photos of me and such historic celebrities as Mohammed, Hermes Trimegistrus, Greta Garbo, and Neil Sedaka...advance, signed hardback versions illustrated by Megan are on the way...send check or money order to Mulder's Austin Address... -------------------------- Message 31 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 11 07:08:16 1997 EDT From: Tadewi (#16048) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Wandering through his labyrinth... Tadewi brushed the hair from her face, tricolored strands trickling through her fingers like rain, as she gazed out her window at the misty morning haze. Somewhere, she knew he was sleeping, felt it as she felt her own conciousness, her own being. His every thought, every sensation was hers. She shivered as she touched his mind, so much pain there, so much emptiness. She closed her eyes and found herself wandering through the labyrinth that was his mind, seeing his walled in colors come together and then drift apart... she opened her eyes again. It was better not to stay long... or she might lose herself. Her voice was soft as a summer breeze, carrying her thoughts to Kzin even as he slept, "Damn you, Rathe, for this foolish game... You will see, that what you give, you get times three." Her eyes drifted away from the window, down to the mottled scar on her palm. Rathe had no right... no right... She began to weep. -------------------------- Message 32 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 11 19:59:22 1997 EDT From: Lise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: New Flights, New Fights..(pg-13) Lise sat upon the sleeping form of a dragon, watching the purples, pinks and red hues increase in the sky as the round ball of fire glistened and sunk into the ocean. Upon the Mount, everything seemed to be visible. She smiled, stroking the side of the great beast as it slumbered. It awoke yawning and spoke in the tounge of a human, agitation to its voice, "Why did you wake me Lise? I was just enjoying my dream of devouring that human.." When she had met with Stryfe weeks before, he was vauge in his answer, a trait he always seemed to possess. She had gone to him, days before her dragon's death, speaking of her hate early on of the Dragonriders. She did not see before she had become what the terrible beliefs she had to accept. No, she did not see until after it was forced upon her. Stryfe had listened, questioning her motives, her reasons, questioning too if Thyvoras'rath knew what was to be its fate. For Lise had such a desire to leave the maddness and crazy following (as she had said) that she would arrange her dragon to be killed. She came therefore to Stryfe with two propositions: One that he would kill her dragon, and two, that she could become one of the Knights herself. He was vauge to both, instead brining upon the name of the Dragonslayer to do the deed. She would be contacted towards the latter. Kzin was precise and skilled with his blade as he struck Thyvoras'rath down, taking with him his rider to boot. Of course Lise had not frowned upon her death. For she knew that with the death, freedom would be brought. And so it came, at a cost. Weeks passed on as insanity overcame Lise. But not once did she falter that her dragons' death was anything but defense of her life. She continued small chats with Stryfe, in secrecy, sensing that his decision would soon draw near. And so it was, that upon the day Stryfe presented her with the emrald Wyrm, Zarrath, that Lise smiled. She was free finally, and had become what she wished. Few knew the real reason for the dragon's death, and fewer still knew her real plan behind it. Soon, however they would know, and things would be turned around in many respects. Perhaps it was the insanity that fueled her now, but Lise did not know. It was her plan from the begining, as her mind told her. Her plan that could finally take place. Lise stroked Zarrath's bony form, grinning. She spoke softly, almost inaudibly, "I'm sorry to have woken you my friend, I was simply thinking. Always thinking. My hand must've slilpped.." Zarrath situated himself without a word, closing his gleaming Lise stroked Zarrath's bony form, grinning. She spoke softly, almost inaudibly. "I'm sorry to have woken you, my friend, i was simply thinking. Always thinking. My hand simply must've slilpped.." Zarrath situated himself without a word, his peircing red orbs simply diminishing for sleep. -------------------------- Message 33 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 11 20:02:37 1997 EDT From: Lise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: For all intensive purposes.. That last post was strictly OOC. To my knowledge, only two people know that Lise had her dragon killed : Stryfe and Nigel. There was a problem with the Mount suposedly finding out, that was later retconned. Nobody knows who I haven't told. :) Carey/Lise -------------------------- Message 34 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 11 20:05:02 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) .And Kzin, and Rathe.. *tells the world* heh Rathe -------------------------- Message 35 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 11 20:06:24 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Clarification. Kzin and Rathe both know Lise's dragon was killed, because they were there ;) There. Now stop looking at me funny ;) -------------------------- Message 36 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 11 20:28:17 1997 EDT From: Alluvia (#12737) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *Druids (#12232) Subject: Life snatched from a grasp.. Alluvia sobbed softly back in the safety of Eldorath's branch. Her body ached and she was nervous from mage sickness and from anguishing worry. There was a coldness around her body as she glanced at the empty bassonet that would have held her newborn baby. Her newborn baby daughter, Darisa. She was too weak to move, to weak to do anything but sob. Rathe had drained her fully after he killed her once before. Her only solace throughout the pain was that her daugher was safe, somewhere, away from death and pain. Rathe's rants had run through her mind, the night before playing horrid tricks on her psyche. He saw her arrive, as she was giving birth, with aid of Cadimus, Rathe's person brandishing a sword. He had sliced at the umbilical cord, in effort to take the small life. Cadimus had quickly snatched the child, giving it to Alluvia, where she could bring breath to the small girl. Darisa instantly began to cry, and Alluvia murmured over a calming sleep spell, trying to keep Rathe at bay with magic of her own. Cadimus came near, seemingly unaffected by Rathes words or his brandished weapon. He whispered words to Alluvia, calming, though they were not heard above the screams. Alluvia's own body failing as the spell began to break down, the exhaustion of delivery and the strain of the situation. She felt her trembling hands give Darisa to the quiet friend, and she watched as he dissapeared in a puff of smoke. When Alluvia awoke, she was seen by the great form of the Eagle, its presence great before her. It cast her form back to the earth, rejuvinated from the struggles before. She charged immediately after Rathe, trying to keep him back with spells, each time working only half with success. She heard the voice of Cadimus calling to her, saying that the child would be safe in the hands of his friend. There in the shadows, a woman's voice could be heard, her voice calming to Alluvia's distraught form. The woman, Silvermoon, had taken the child from Cadimus, and Alluvia saw as she bravely walked out, past Rathe, out to freedom with her daughter. Alluvia felt a chill come over her, her mind slipping from her own conciousness again, still acting, striking at Rathe with vengeful spell (though her mind was not aware of this.) When she awoke again, she was in presence of the girl who had helped her before. Silvermoon informed Alluvia that her child was safe, in a place where Rathe could not harm her. She was vauge to this place, and Alluvia begged to see her daughter, but Silvermoon stated only that it would be when the time was safe. Alluvia did not know what to do, what to say, her mind swimming in a confused lake. She nodded to the girl and slowly crept back to Eldorath's safety. She knew things had to come back for the best. But when? When was the answer she had to find out. Alluvia knew she had to get her daughter back, somehow, some way. If she did not , it would kill her. -------------------------- Message 37 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 12 10:45:31 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) She was standing on the misty grey heath, and she knew where she was - but for the first time Syyrl was not there to greet her. It was darker than she was used to, and she squinted, staring off into the distance. The plain stretched out before her, heather waving in the soft breeze. Glancing up, she could see tattered clouds drifting along; it was night, but there were no stars.. no moon. Ylaerin hugged herself, wishing she had a cloak. The dreamworld had never seemed so unwelcoming to her, and she wondered why she had been pulled here, and yet had no guide. Her harp was not with her, her bag or staff not on her back. Suddenly there was an unfriendly gust of wind, harsh and noisy, and her red hair whipped around into her eyes, stinging her cheek. When she brushed it away, she was standing in Morlith's garden... it was a bright morning, early spring, and frosty dew drops glimmered on the crocus flowers. She felt different, somehow, and glancing down at herself, she saw that she was quite heavy. She must be nearing the end of her term. She sat down on the bench, under the willow, thinking this must just be a dream - like any other dream. The heath.. she'd made that up. A shimmer of blue dancing by the corner of her vision, and she turned to see Luthe wuffling about in the grass. She stood to go to him, and that's when everything turned wrong. The whole Mount lurched before her, and she threw out a hand, touching dragonhide. Her head was filled with roaring, and panic began to rise within her; she hurt terribly.. something was wrong. She tried to calm herself, but her own panic was so great that it drug Luthe along with her. She realized then that they were Bound. He creeled, as she leaned against his side, trying to blot out everything, pain and all, with his sapphire scales... .. She woke, gasping for air, in the dark cavern that was her Home. Yshar slept solidly beside her, and she calmed herself quickly, so as not to wake him. She was only nearing 4 months.. the dream was just a nightmare, she was sure. She got up, and went to Luthe, hugging his snout. He snorted sleepily, and wuffled her; he could see she was troubled (otherwise he would have grumped). She sighed, and looked at her husband. He had said that the world below was a dangerous one, and she knew that rightfully... but she wondered if one could ever *really* escape danger. Even here, even at Home, with a draig at your side. -------------------------- Message 38 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jun 14 00:08:46 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: True Blood Rathe crouched over the leather tome before him, turning another crinkled parchment page. The high backed chair he sat on seemed unusually uncomfortable this night, as he shifted uneasily, reading onward in the demonology text. The globes of light lining the walls flickered occasionally of thier own volition, mirroring Rathe's own unsureness and fatigue. Far too much had happened this eve, Rathe thought wearily, as his eyes continued to scan the page. His mind flicked backwards constantly, to the point where Tyrkislok's tail smashed the side of his dark energy barrier. He had been dazed by the blow, his energy almost gone. As the pale dragon loomed over him, something within him seemed to well up, a strength that had never before been readily apparent. Rathe had grasped at it in desperation, not knowing, not caring what it might be. Anything just to survive. As the energy was called, Rathe felt his conciousness beginning to slip. His body and powers no longer seemed his, as he watched behind a viel of pain and anger. His vision turned red, as he watched himself somehow evade the huge dragon's blows, lashing out with the infernal hell magick, somehow caught from the core of his being. Dark fire filled his veins like blood, as he reduced Tyrkislok to his feet, the dragon wailing in agony. Rising slowly, he stepped around the obstruction, towards Rosa and Ash. His gaze was greeted by a blue/purple light, appearing black through his reddened vision. He acted without thought, only by instinct, as he struck the energy holding the two young cambions together, blocking Ash's firey attack without a thought. Energies faught each other for moments before Ash and Rosa were seperated, Rathe sent sprawling by a backlash of his own energy. Blackness. As his conciousness slowly returned, Rathe looked about him with blurred eyes. Realization came rushing to him as his body returned to his control.. He knew what he was. The cold spray of the Jizo sea hit his skin like Ice, as a cautious seagull cried out in the distance, circling slowly overhead in the light of the full moon. Rathe sunk to his knees, and wept. -------------------------- Message 39 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jun 15 13:24:44 1997 EDT From: Yalindra (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Two become one... It was the day she had waited for for what seemed like an eternity. The day she would be SoulBonded with Myr... Her wish would finally be granted. Her husband was there, as were her friends, and most of all...Myr'leth'saarath. They were all led into the Sarkus, it's mysterious walls beginning to chime and vibrate sonorously as the elder dragons hummed while Brinn performed the ceremony. Yalindra etched the moments on her mind forever. She stepped forward with the garnet at her side, her air proud and calm. She put out her hand, as did Myr - she only felt a nick as the dagger cut her palm, and almost at once, her mind shifted and changed. Out of the dark corners of her mind came a presence...it was so like her own, yet it was clearly different. |Myr?| she thought. A pause, then a reply |Yes.| Her body trembled with happiness as she realized she had been bonded...she could now proudly call herself a Dragonrider... She stood there completely stunned while she conversed rapidly with Myr, testing out the complexity of the soulbond. She need not even speak, merely call up memories and ideas and Myr instantly received them. Her entire childhood was discussed in a matter of moments. She felt a bit of what is was to be a dragon...insight on how they thought, and she gained a new respect for them...now that she was in the mind of one. Or was it the dragon that was in her mind? Yalindra watched in elation as her friends underwent the same ceremony...the rest of the day was a blurr... She remembers returning to her cavern and curling up with her husband...the hardest thing to get used to was the duality of the bond...she could not escape it, even in sleep. Her dreams were mixed with thoughts of hunting sheep and goats, and flight... She smiled in her sleep as she realized these were Myr's dreams floating over, and she wondered what Myr was thinking as her dreams of Devon, children and happiness greeted her. She did not even have to wonder anymore...she could see into Myr's mind and find out for herself... This would take some definite getting used to. Soon Yalindra was exhausted from the mental conversation, and she fell into a deep, contented slumber, knowing that she would never be alone again. Ever. -------------------------- Message 40 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jun 15 19:11:13 1997 EDT From: Vixiana (#20277) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *Druids (#12232) Subject: An arduous path Having grown up surrounded with nature and learning of the beauty of it, Vixiana felt almost an instant completeness when Lovinia took her to visit Eldorath. Lovinia spoke of Gaea while Vixiana listened to her, enraptured with her words. Curious about this path, Vixiana asked Lovinia how she too could become a child of Gaea. Lovinia sensed that Vixiana was worthy of this path and took her before Milamber, Tecumpah of the Druids. Nervousness exuded around Vixiana as she stood before Milamber. Lovinia smiled at Vixiana encouragingly as Vixiana was given the final rites into becoming a child of Gaea. The Temcupah sensed her unwavering beliefs and welcomed Vixiana into the arms of Gaea. Exhausted from the events that had just passed, Vixiana was very excitied to go to the home she made with her love, Theron, and share the news of Gaea's acceptance. Speaking in the druidic tongue, Vixiana smiled around at her brothers and sisters, "thank you all for welcoming me and may Gaea bless you always." -------------------------- Message 41 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 16 21:05:41 1997 EDT From: Ariadne (#20332) To: *Chat (#5391) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: An OOC post - More like a WANTED poster. Kynwal and Axelle are looking for players to play their twin children, Gabriel and Kaitlyn. They request that the interested parties be a) fairly decent at RP if not better, b) online fairly regularly - don't want cobwebbed kiddies! (It is uncertain but the might have a potential player for Kaity already.) The twins are in their late teenage years according to game time and are destined to breed with Moonheart's offspring. (Yes, we are planning a super Fae race) *cackle* All joking aside, please moomail (@send) myself or Kynwal if you think you might tackle this challenge. Note: The alt will be provided. -------------------------- Message 42 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jun 17 00:10:07 1997 EDT From: Akeashar (#20348) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A strange man.. The man crept along inside the shadows, eyeing the wierd mutant rats suspiciously, "The time has come.." the man says in a tribalistic tone, walking past some dogs which attempt to attack him.. He walks into a quiet place, panting with exhaustion.. he looks up to the sky, saying in his tribal tone, "The time has come for me o' great Eagle.. do not make me stay in this physical shell no longer, I beg of you.." and begins a loud fit of coughing, propping a strange wooden staff up against the wall. He smiles at his companion, blood drooling from his lip, "You have helped me fight well Offender.. now, you must have another holder.." he falls to the floor, his body convulsing and his eyes going bloodshot.. a bright flash of light is seen before him, and he awakens in the midrealm, the eagle reaches out to grab him in its talons, [Your wish will be granted, Shai'ka'yan of the tribe Regiul, you will remain here.." and The old man smiles up at the eagle, his job completed.. -------------------------- Message 43 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jun 17 01:10:04 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) It had been everything she expected, and a little beyond that... but it was surely worth it. Ylaerin ran a finger down the shimmering scar on her palm, and felt the answering mental nudge from her Bondmate... she smiled to herself, and pulled the covers closer around, trying to sleep. In the days since the Bonding, she had begun to realize how comfortable she felt. For the first time in many many years - maybe even in her life, but at least since she'd left Ireland 10 years ago - she felt at Home, and happy, and like herself. It wasn't that she'd been *unhappy*, she's had Syyrl.. and friends... and Tyz and Yshar.. yes, even Rathe. She'd had a marriage.. conceived a child, and been 'mystically' appointed a bard by the Circles. But nothing compared to the instantaneous comfort, the guarding against fears and bad dreams and sorrowful thoughts... that incredible knowledge Luthe carried of her, and she of him. And she had finally understood Yshar's fear - his fear of losing her to the Bond. It had nearly happened... the moment the flood of togetherness happened between her & Luthe, she'd forgotten everything that wasn't Him. That dragon. She could see or hear nothing else... she'd no love for anything or anyone, only Lyr'tyzluthe. Until Strafe had called her by her birthname.. until Luthe had mentally shoved her, or taken some sort of step back and the world came sifting back in. Their Bond was deep, perhaps deeper than some, but did not exclude everything else. Luthe was proud of himself for days... that he'd given up just a little something for his friend Yshar, and Tyzrath. But here they were now, and it wasn't alone.. and she wasn't halfwitted, as some had warned her she would be. She hadn't lost Lyetra, but she was truly Ylaerin - more than herself, and still the same.. with a child and a husband and more lost loves than she wanted and more friends than she could ever thank. Turning these thoughts over in her mind like a song - a dead lover, a smiling mother, the touch of a husband, the world spinning madly as someone walked away from her forever - She felt Luthe in counterpoint... and the two of them slept and dreamed like children who know more than they need to, and who are still chasing after a mermaids cap on a wave. -------------------------- Message 44 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jun 17 17:23:59 1997 EDT From: Milamber (#11545) To: *Druids (#12232) and *Storylines (#5236) Milamber feels a tremor run through Eldorath, speaking of evil to come. "I fear ill times indeed. I must commune with the three, and enter the trance of deepest study. If Gaia will have it, new magicks will be unlocked that we may utilize in these times of woe." The druid settles into his traditional lotus pose, eyes closing. Suddenly, the snap open to reveal icy depths. "A new sigil not seen in some time has been revealed in Gaia's flesh. It harkens the elevation of another to the level of Rowan. Indeed, this is good news -- a stronger force will be able to combat what is to come." Milamber looks around. "My communion must wait. I must first discern this new power, then perhaps, I will enter into my meditation." The Tecumpah stands, and heads northwest though the slender branches of Eldorath in search of a druid bearing the marking of the yew. -------------------------- Message 45 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jun 17 20:22:25 1997 EDT From: Lovinia (#10869) To: *Druids (#12232) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A Sense of Change She woke glancing over at the peacefully sleeping form of her Beloved before turning her eyes upwards to look through the skylight. She watched the sky lighten, the stars winking out one by one as the sun rose to the east, something had woken her, a sense of some pressing need, urgency, of change. Finding no answers laying there, she rose in the cold dawn, shivering she dressed and reached for her staff. The sense of growing change increased as her hand touched the smooth, carved wood. She looked down at her husband, then silently walked down the stairs in the dim light of early morn. She knew where she must go, her bare feet guiding her through the dark forest. The day brightened as she traveled to the wastelands and her destination, Eldorath. Her hands wandered over the carved wood of her staff unconciously as she tried to make out this sense of urgency and change. When finally she stood before the Great Tree, a deep sense of calm and belonging covered her. The sense of change was still there, but was now a soothing sense...of completion. She climbed the tree, roaming the branches coming finally to one of her favorite spots, high in the branches. She sat curled against the great trunk and ran her hands over the runes carved in her staff. Something tugged at her and she looked down at the staff, just as the Tecumpah found her. Eyes widened in disbelief, she looked up at the smiling Tecumpah. "Welcome Rowan, we have waited for your arrival." She murmured, "Thank you Gaea." She looked down at the staff, the same she had been given at her acceptance by Gaea, only now the sign of the 'birch' was gone, replaced by the sign of the 'yew'. Rowan. -------------------------- Message 46 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 18 12:16:25 1997 EDT From: Tadewi (#16048) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Her laughter... her hereafter. Tadewi sat up and stretched, pale green eyes falling over the form of Kzin beside her. She could feel his hazy dreams as they swirled across his mind. He was content, at peace. She was glad for this. She traced the newly healed scar on her hand, cleansed by the Dragon Mage Brinn herself. She and Kzin were finally free from any black magic, free from Rathe's curse. She smiled quietly to herself, finding her life finally moving in a positive direction. Since her divorce and her daughter's mysterious death, she had felt lost, drifting. There was nothing for her, at least not till Rathe's mean trick turned into a blessing in disguise. Tadewi settled back under the covers, turning onto her side to wrap her around around Kzin, kissing him softly, so as not to wake him. She rested her head on his chest and drifted off again, chuckling once at the thought of Rathe's reaction to his trick backfiring. -------------------------- Message 47 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 18 20:02:24 1997 EDT From: Brinn (#12457) To: *DragonRiders (#5915) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dark Revelations The day had started as most did, she had gone to the Sarkus to meditate, to commune with the spirit of the Sarkus. She did the routine things, getting breakfasst from Friega, spending some time in the herb garden, studying. But her mind was too active to stay with what was before her, it kept going back to thoughts of new troubles. A group of men calling themselves Dragon Slayers had appeared. Last night had been the start. She had been in the Sarkus, then she heard an angry dragon roar out in rage.. She went to the ledge and there was what was normally a gentle pearl, an enraged Tyrkislok. The pearl dropped a broken body at her feet, placing a foreclaw on his chest, none to gently, holding him there. The angry pearl looked up at Brinn's entrance and roared out that humans had tried to kill her. Brinn turned to the man known as Astaroth, asking him what had happened, had he struck a blow. His answer was no, yet wished death it seemed. Other riders clammered for the mage's death. (She could feel the gift within him, though in the shape he was in, the power was weak.) She turned back to the Riders, told them no death, that his arms should be torn from his body as a lesson. Tyrkislok, to everyones amazement, struck out, tearing Astaroths arms free of his body. Two of the riders grabbed the maimed man and prepared to leave, mounting their dragons. Brinn held a hand up, "Bring me Rand. I wish to speak with him. Do not hurt him." As they turned to go, she murmured to herself, "Friendship is a lie. There are no friends. Cannot be." Brinn turned and walked into the Sarkus, alone. Her thoughts following the trail of lastnights events, she decided she would go down to the R/T, see if she could find any news, some reasoning for this insanity. She left Azzy on the helipad and went down to the lounge. As she entered, she saw several strangers, Akane and Rathe. She noted the strangers were young, her age and she turned away to ask Oz for some water. Rathe rose from the hearth, pulling on some form of skull to mask his face, pulling a strange, bladed weapon into his hands as he approached her slowly. She could feel the tenseness in the air and raised her hands, asking Rathe what the problem was. Rathe spit out some words of vendective, about her and the mount causign harm to one in his employ. before she could refute his remarks..ask him about his attack on a dragon..he struck her. She staggered back and cast at him, the spell taking little toll agianst him as he struck out again, then again to finally KO her. She regained conciousness for a few moments back home..on Morlith, riders and dragons surrounding her, her mother kneeling in her blood that flowed from the stumps at her shoulders. Azzy, roared out that the human had told her this was a lesson for all dragons on the mount..that it was retribution and they were warned. She could feel her life force ebb from her across the ledge and tried to summon the power of the Sarkus. She woke to face the Eagle. Brinn closed her heart. Feeling cold surround her as she walked out to the ledge. She found riders arguing about War..a stranger stood there..one from the lounge. She stared at him coldly, asked who he was. This then was the son of the Magus Kynwal, her own age..Once a possible friend. Her mind repeated "There can be no friends. All is a lie." And she hardened her heart. -------------------------- Message 48 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 19 02:43:29 1997 EDT From: Ariadne (#20332) To: *Chat (#5391) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Player Wanted Well it's becoming a trend, I know, but with my added responsibilities, I am either killing off my alts or creating new roles. I am looking for a dedicated player for Axelle's brother, Julian. The character is not fully developed though he has a lot of promise. If anyone is interested, mail me. Please include what you envision for the character. He is elegant, romantic though dark and brooding. And btw...Aren't Gabriel and Kaitlyn just wonderful? *grin* -------------------------- Message 49 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 19 12:07:07 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Notice tacked to the wall in the R/T Round room Why heya kids out there in TV land, it's your friendly neighborhood Necromantic Mage here, come to bring you a nice little note. I hereby make it known that every rider entering the Real/Time building is given formal warning that thier posessions and lives are forfiet the moment they step down from thier overgrown lizards. These attacks will continue untill three posessions you idiot riders stole from me are returned. Follows is a list, I suggest you comply as soon as humanly possible. Magister Rathe A battle axe with "ax" inscribed in the hilt. One suit of field plate One steel helm -------------------------- Message 50 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 19 14:07:08 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) It was a far greater struggle, now, than it would have been before the Bonding to keep her temper. She'd been with Brinn when she died, and Luthe's reaction had hit her hard, compunding her own. She felt slightly ashamed with herself for lashing out at Yggy, and the lad called Gabriel. But what sort of fool nonsense was 'evil and good are impressions'? There was nothing relative about Good and Evil.. and she knew in her ehart of hearts that the ones causing all this damned trouble knew well what evil they were doing - could not possibly think their actions justified. Now, all this talk of war. It was all she could do to keep from seething, and she would have gone downland somplace and probably killed a few ROUS to blow off steam, if she weren't so worried. Yggy had told her that Yshar would be, most likely, instrumental in teaching several tactics to the Mount.. and that those unable to fight would be sent off someplace else. She'd been reassured that Lyr'tyzluthe would go safely with her, but she could not honestly be expected to leave her husband and Tyzrath.. pregancy or no! Luthe rumbled grouchily, and she calmed herself... her anger was unsettling him even more than he already was. All the dragons were on edge, it seemed, and Luthe was not himself. She sighed, picking up her harp.. music would soothe them; it had to. -------------------------- Message 51 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 19 15:46:03 1997 EDT From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Sacred Union She focused her energy towards him, her naked body glistening with a sheen of sweat as she sat astride his lap. He barely moved beneath her, his manhood buried deep within her depths. He too was rigid with concentration, licking her lips for the salt that they provided. Staring into each others' eyes, there was a silent exchange of communication. She flexed her inner muscles then and called his seed into her womb. Threads of dark energy pulsated around them. The Black Craft clashed with the Tantric energy and caused the air to crackle. He worked deftly to braid Necromantic energy with the two other forces. It was a struggle to bind the opposing energies. She drew his fluids into her body and then felt the rush of him calling them back. She blocked her marma, the pressure point of conception, waiting until all of the threads were bound to the seed. The Vajroli Mudra continued for a long time, the lovers channeling the fertile juices back and forth. Moonlight streaming in through the window, they finally finished, his seed planted against the warm blood-lined walls of her uterus. Entirely spent, they crawled back into bed, limbs entwined. Axelle lay there for a long time before sleep finally came. Kynwal's breathing had become regular and his face was buried in the crook of her neck. Her brillant emerald eyes wandered to the window and she gazed out at shimmering snow. 'Winter was fast approaching', she thought. Drawing his heat to her body, she fell into a deep sleep. 'Yes. Winter would soon be here.' -------------------------- Message 52 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 19 16:47:40 1997 EDT From: Duke (#20175) To: *Storylines (#5236) Duke woke up, stretched and smiled. His job with dakiron has been going smoothly. He has caught a few recombs, and hauled them back for ..reconditioning. And got a few bucks for that, as well as his partial freedom. The only problem now was that he needed a master. Dakiron is now changing the agreement a bit. There letting him stay partially free, but he has to find a partial master. Someone to take care of him in a sence, or more or less train him in their arts. Duke rolled around playfully, while thinking of how he could get a master, who shall his master be? OOC - This is basically a note to say that I am up for grabs. Im a pet who wants a master. For more info contact me by mail, Moo mail that is. -------------------------- Message 53 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jun 20 02:15:50 1997 EDT From: Brinn (#12457) To: *Chat (#5391), *DragonRiders (#5915), and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Retcon It has come to my attention that some OOC info got messed up into IC and has caused no end of troubles. Brinn was told ONLY that Rathe and Kzin and other unknown human's attacked Tyrkislok. Since Dragons dont normally pay much attention to human's other that riders and those close, the Pearl would not have known the other memembers of the attack. So, what this means is that Brinn did not know rand was invovled, not is she 'searching' for him as one. Please let all Rp involving Rand be forgotten. And PLEASE try and keep OOC and IC info seperate. I realize at times it is hard, but do try. -------------------------- Message 54 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jun 21 23:20:07 1997 EDT From: Callie (#10646) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Return . .Activate Log >..Subject : New >>Opening Floating Log File... Assign Codex? .Negate >>Opening . .Have returned from excursion to nearbye space-time. .Accumulated data will prove useful in mapping dimensional nexus. .Will process full report after compiling data. .\File >>Filing .Deactivate Log >>Log Closed . -------------------------- Message 55 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 23 20:46:59 1997 EDT From: Ariadne (#20332) To: *Chat (#5391), *Storylines (#5236), and *Flame (#8228) Subject: TP Tonight! Well I'm posting across 3 boards so that this TP is well advertised. In all honesty, it is gonna be a great bundle of fun that is well worth your time. (Goodies will be likely to go home with you.) Time: Midnight EST Location: Meet in and about The RT Lounge. Notes: Please keep OOC comments etcetera to a minimum to avoid needless spam. IC justification: Posters were strewn and tacked up all around the place, advertising some sort of mysterious event. You aren't sure what, but it was intriguing. Don't page me asking what it's all about. Let's just say that your Wizzen staff are bringing Christmas around early and we're doing something for you. Fun fun. Hope to see you all there and yes, it will be a gas. (I hope) *chuckle* -------------------------- Message 56 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jun 24 01:19:40 1997 EDT From: Ariadne (#20332) To: *Chat (#5391), *Flame (#8228), and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The TP and Another. Well the TP went well, I think. Half the time I was unconscious, the other half I was laughing. Lots more gifts to go around. Same time tomorrow for a quick bout of fun and stuff. Thanks to all who came out. -------------------------- Message 57 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jun 24 13:47:37 1997 EDT From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Winter's Arrival She had struggled on her way to the lounge - the labor had started when she was three quarters way there. Relieved to have left her armor at home, her swollen belly had only the tight leather of her clothing to contend with. When she finally got to there, there seemed to be a heated argument between Rathe and Yshar. She paid them no mind however. The contractions were coming faster...furious. As she lied in bed now, confined to the cool sheets and rest, she tried to recall the past night's events. Astaroth had birthed her baby. Winter had accepted her energies and had grown rapidly. Where was the child now? The image of an old hag-like woman flooded her mind as she drifted off to sleep. The kiss of a young woman whose eyes shone brightly like her own. A demon whose power could only enslave her daughter. The image of a dark cathedral. The shedding of shells. -------------------------- Message 58 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 25 00:11:29 1997 EDT From: Ariadne (#20332) To: *Storylines (#5236) *chat *flame -------------------------- Message 59 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 25 00:12:57 1997 EDT From: Ariadne (#20332) To: *Storylines (#5236), *Chat (#5391), and *Flame (#8228) Subject: Let me try this again One of our key players needs a bit of time. As well there is much to do and we're rushing. The tp will begin at 12:45pm EST. Hope to see you all there. -------------------------- Message 60 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 25 12:24:17 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: .... The blood of dragons swirling 'round in a troubled man's sleep, a hollow drip of droplets hitting stone. Rebirth felt within the bowels of a twisted parody of a gothic church. Dark power in his veins, dreams realized, sight restored. The loss of a soul, an indesputable master. Forever pledged to the black, never to return to the light. Power, ambition, loss. Rathe's path had only begun. -------------------------- Message 61 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 25 16:34:13 1997 EDT From: Ariadne (#20332) To: *Storylines (#5236), *Chat (#5391), and *Flame (#8228) Subject: Across the boards once more ****OOC post**** Well, we saw a few PC die, and even got a dragon last night. Please send your condolences to Yshar. It was a great sacrifice (or mistake) on his part. Tonight, looks like a SoulMech is gonna go down. A Revenant no less. Be there or be square, as the saying goes. And btw, Necropolis has been opened but beware all who are not Necros. The keepers of the area will protect their sacred ground. -------------------------- Message 62 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jun 25 19:43:03 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) **Note: PG-13, maybe. I dunno what's going on for sure yet ;) She sobbed, at last; Luthe was coiled around her as best he could be.. they were both curled up in the dragon cot that Luthe and Tyzrath had often shared, an eternity ago and only yesterday. She wept until she thought she'd be sick, and then she was sick, and then she still kept crying. She wept now because for the moment it was all she could do, and because later there would be little use for tears. She would have to be strong, for Yshar, and she had to have control of herself. Ylaerin kept her face buried against Luthe's neck, and he creeled softly in time with her broken sobs. Tyzrath had been her best friend, and once he'd been a great deal of the reason she'd kept going. Now he was gone - taken from her by a man she'd loved (perhaps she still did.. is that what made this war increasingly hard to bear?) and a man who'd nearly collapsed her life in on itself by way of a sacrifice. And if Tyzrath's death weren't enough, his bondmate - her husband, one of the few people she trusted without fail - was thrown into the depths by Tyz's death. And now Brinn was a Queen, by way of a sword. Etra was standing in the middle of the greatest ballad of her life; but at what price? She had to help and keep Strafe, for she loved him truly and needed him - and he needed her. She had to watch herself for sake of her unborn child, which hopefully would also offer Yshar hope. And she lived in fear for Lyr'tyzluthe. She and Strafe had at least had last night together; wonderful lovemaking that was perhaps the most tender and loving they'd had yetduring their 6 month marriage. She'd slipped off to sleep afterwards, and found herself in the Time Bewtween Times.. talking to syyrl and an unidentified higher bard about the songs she'd recently finished.. and about the silver branch - a sort of Bardic promotion. Once or twice she'd thought she'd heard someone trying to wake her, but syyrl would clasp her arm and look at her both with sorrow and love, and so she would stay. She'd been a fool, prehaps, but it had probably saved her the brunt of the initial sorrow - and it was a little easier to function knowing that she *could* help now.. where she wouldn't ahve been abvle to last night. And so she cried, Luthe's sorrow blending and melding into her own. They both knew they were each other's cheif support - and they both knew that now was the time for tears.. because soon enough, would be the time for action. -------------------------- Message 63 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 26 00:08:39 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Parting Rosa Leigh sighed heavily as she looked out over the vast waters. "It is time" Ash said softly, his scaley arms folded across his chest. Rosa Leigh nodded heavily, her childish curls bouncing. Together the cambion twins stepped to the edge of the cliff as slowly their tiny child like forms began to ripple and grow fainter and fainter in the setting sun's brilliant light. Until with the sun's disappearence nothing was left on the spot but slightly charred grass. A vast wave of energy ripped through the air, leaving a tingly powerful sensation in all that it passed as the twin's energies spread out into the nature that had created. >From the vast darkness of the sky a tiny rosa drifted from the sky on a gentle current to land softly on the ground, as a miniscule butterfly flits through the air to land lightly on the rose. As one the rose and butterfly freeze, the only memorial to the forgotten twins. -------------------------- Message 64 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 26 11:54:27 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: confusion Jaelene thought about all that Toraxyn had said to her. Jaelene's heart was filled with confusion. Why now did Toraxyn realize that she was who he truly wanted to be with? Why after Jaelene started to feel again? started to love again? Things just weren't fair sometimes. Jaelene packed up what little she had at Dauthi's and left. She couldn't make this decision living with him. Dauthi had been so good to her after she taught him the value of love. And now, now Jaelene was going to destroy any love Dauthi might have felt. Jaelene ran her hand over the spear Dauthi had given to her. He'd want me to have it she thought. As she left the home she'd shared with Dauthi for the past 4 months, Jaelene got a catch in her throat. Softly she whispered, "Don't give up on love Dauthi." Jaelene set forth to find the seer again. He would know what was the right path for Jaelene to take. He would know where her heart should lie. Jaelene went back to the park bench where her world had changed so many months ago and opened up her journal as she began to write.. How do I mend a heart so torn Or help a sould again be born Do I go back to how things were And feel the pain I had to endure Jaelene stopped for a moment and closed her journal. She had much to think about. The seer was her only hope... -------------------------- Message 65 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 26 15:15:10 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The search Darius Lee growled softly as she stared up at the night sky. The time had come, the leave taking was upon her. Silently she padded through her home saying goodbye to all that she knew. She would return of course when the wolves called but then and only then. With a last look, her gold and silver eyes gleaming brightly, she turned and loped out into the wastes to place known by none and seen by only one. -------------------------- Message 66 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 26 20:45:00 1997 EDT From: Zealot (#14400) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Small price to pay 'The sponge pulled it off after all,' Zealot thought to himself. 'The boyz will enjoy a new ball to play with I think.' The Reaver turned and headed off into the horizon of the wasteland, something large dangling from its left hand. -------------------------- Message 67 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jun 26 23:01:29 1997 EDT From: Morrigan (#10469) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: New Beginnings.... "Fate is a funny thing...", The Morrigan thought as he strode into the R/T Lounge, his robes billowing about him. Scanning the room, his attention was drawn to one he had already met, the one known as Kaitlyn, daughter of the Magus Kynwal and Mistress Axelle. Involuntarily, his face broke into a smile, as a faint, ancient emotion stirred deeply within him. Settling up beside Kaitlyn, he learned of her recent capture by the one known as Anansi, and what she had suffered. Only with exacting mental effort did he force his emotions to stillness, appeasing them with the thought that Anansi would soon know the wrath of a storm beyond reckoning... Kaitlyn looked at him, and The Morrigan, awash with that ancient emotion, called upon the gift to produce a red rose, the stem a vibrant green, and the petals a shimmering crimson red, which he gave to her. Kaitlyn reminded him of a prior arrangement, and The Morrigan nodded, and smiled at her. Leaving the R/T Lounge hand in hand, they journeyed to The Morrigan's home, a Gothic, black obsidian Tower jutting from the red sands of the Wastes. Entering within, the Adept showed Kaitlyn through the Tower, indicating various things about each room as they wandered through.... Time passed, and found the two sitting together, talking. Sitting within his home...looking at the glassy walls, hearing the echo of his and Kaitlyn's voice in the hall where they sat, The Morrigan knew what the twisting, jittering emotion in him to be, and silently sought within himself, lapsing into silence as he seached, studied within the whole of himself, and came to find what he suspected to be true, shining brightly within him like the sun. The Morrigan turned to Kaitlyn, gazing upon her with shimmering blue eyes, and began to speak to her...earnestly, telling of his life, his past, his relations with many about him, including Kaitlyn's mother and father. Ineveitably, the question came, of The Morrigan's feelings for Kaitlyn's mother...did he love her? The reply came borne of conviction, and sincerity, "Kaitlyn...I love not your mother with the intimacy...the intimacy that lovers share, but as old friends, a love of the heart." She looked up at him, eyes twinkling, and yet asked again, "Is there someone you do love with the intimacy that lovers share?" He fell silent, almost unbreathing, as his mind reached out, grasped the irrefutable fact of what his search, and his heart were telling him, and then nodded to Kaitlyn, his words a carrying whisper. "Aye...there is....tis you Kaitlyn...tis you." She watched him a moment, then spoke, "You flatter me Morrigan...." He shook his head, then rose from his seat, drawing the eldritch blade StormChild from its sheathe. Her eyes widened, as he walked to stand before her, then handed her the Daughter of Storms, and kneeled, laying his neck exposed before her. She asked, her question a gasping whisper, "Why? Why do you do this?" "Because I would risk death, yea, even with my own blade to show you of my sincerity....tis you Kaitlyn...tis you." She shook her head, pulling his chin up gently, and handing the seething blade back to him. "I believe you Morrigan...oh I do believe you...never has one risked all to show me of their love." Morrigan rose slowly to his feet, sheathing the Daughter of Storms with a low rumble, then turned to Kaitlyn. She caught his gaze, and returned it, full of awe, and wonder. Finally, she spoke, "Father needed me to return home here shortly...so...I need to go." She leaned out to kiss him, slowly, deeply...full of fire and wonder and magic and life too. They turned, and made preparations to leave. -------------------------- Message 68 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jun 27 05:06:31 1997 EDT From: Entropy (#20188) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Luna Entropy smiles as he watch the sleeping Luna. Only hours before had he completed his reprogramming of her, freeing her from the Dakiron strongholds of her mind. He had regretted the necesity of kidnapping her to do it... But this time, the ends had justified the means...Luna was free. And she chose to love Entropy still. -------------------------- Message 69 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jun 27 12:30:23 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: .. Akane walked around the hall on his usual routine, glancing about with a weary eye. The workers had done as he wanted, adding a few more rooms to the hall. "I think i'll go check the guest chambers.. see how Luna's doing.." He walked in, surverying the room, "Hmmm.. she seems to have left.." he drew spellsong, tapping it against the floor to make the blue light flicker along the walls, "Tis a pity, she really was a nice pet.." he returned his staff to his side, and drew out a dagger, "no worries.. as one magistra used to say, I can still find her.." he drew out some wierd clothing, "as for the wolf.. I will but kill him." he smiled faintly in the darkness, and placed the contents in a bag. He turned on a quick heel and walked out the door. -------------------------- Message 70 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jun 27 23:11:25 1997 EDT From: Destiny (#11973) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Arrival Destiny sat in the lounge of the R/T building thinking on days past. Thinking on the days to come. Her throat stil ached from the sands and heat of the wastes as she nursed it with cool water. Her voice was thick and raspy from her days of rationing her water. But it mattered little now, she had made it to where she wished to be. Her chuckle quickly turned to painful coughing as her mind flicked over the conversation with the man she had met earlier. What was his name now. With relief in her coughing she recalled him, Stryfe, he had called himself. How little he knew of her, but how much he assumed. It really was humorous. Thinking her weak because there were things she cared to not fight about, things that really werent worth fighting about. The babble of idiots really did not upset her. She would stand for what she believed in, but letting someone goad her into fighting was in her mind a weakness. A lack of control on her part. Destiny sipped at her water trying to soothe the rawness, maybe they would meet again and he would see. Or maybe not. She was here for a reason and that was her first priority, but then again...he was intriguing. -------------------------- Message 71 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jun 28 14:14:06 1997 EDT From: Morrigan (#10469) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The pains of Honor... His meeting with Axelle had been brief....and entirely unpleasant. The Morrigan crossed the threshold into the R/T Lounge, scanning the room as was his custom, and noticed his nephew Rand, and Kaitlyn...sweetest Kaitlyn amongst the crowd. Mentally studying, he recognized the faces of Axelle and Julian as well, as he strode across the room to Kaitlyn. Removing his cowl, The Morrigan spoke briefly to Rand, who shortly thereafter left, then directed his attention to Kaitlyn, reaching out a slow, gentle hand to her. T'was not long after, Axelle asked of a moment with The Morrigan, to which he agreed, gently squeezing Kaitlyn's hand once more before turning and coming to stand near Axelle. The conversation with Axelle was entirely too brief...she was not happy that The Morrigan sought to court her daughter and made it blatantly clear. The Morrigan paused, then asked, "After so long...and so much, do you find disfavor with me Axelle? Am I not good enough for your daughter?" With a wry smile, Axelle returned the reply, "My final decisions have nothing to do with the asking of permission to court my daughter.." The Morrigan looked from Axelle to Kaitlyn, knowing within him, that there was no doubts of his devotion for Kaitlyn, sweetest Kaitlyn, and turned back to Axelle, asking, "Aye, then might I permission to court Kaitlyn?" Again, the reply, "You'll have to take a place in line, Morrigan...I will speak with my husband concerning this." The Morrigan nodded, "Aye...I will wait...I _am_ Tuathan...as is your daughter." The Morrigan turned, watching as Kaitlyn left, the words, biting, agonizing words rose in mind, unspoken, a slow, seething poison to scar the soul..."Kaitlyn...you know what I feel for you...and the proof I lay with it..", as he gazed down to the Daughter of Storms, "..but until Axelle gives me permission to court you...to offer your my protection and honor, my love and warmth, compassion...my whole to you...I'm afraid I can do naught more than meet you as a acquaintance...abeit one my heart bursts for...I have no say, and therefore must abide. I am sorry Kaitlyn....so so sorry..." -------------------------- Message 72 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jun 28 16:16:45 1997 EDT From: Toraxyn (#19315) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Freedom Toraxyn wept bitterly in the quiet of his tent. His soul, the possession that was not his to give, he could not for her. His mind slipped in and out of anguish the night as he kneeled and poured his soul out upon the canvas floor. In the darkest part of the night, his hand sought the cool steel of his dagger. The pain faded as the soft metal touches his cheek by his own hand. The sobs quieting, he whispered. "Not just for you, Jaelene.. For I as well.." The dagger plunged into his heart, releasing anguish, hate, fury, and most of all... love. Falling to the ground, blood coating the silken fabric of his black tunic, his lips spread into a gentle smile, the eagle grasping his soul with equally gentle talons. -------------------------- Message 73 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jun 28 16:21:14 1997 EDT From: Toraxyn (#19315) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Clarification Toraxyn isn't necessarily permdead.. I just need a break of playing him for awhile. He'll be back, in one incarnation or another. *hugs and waves* -------------------------- Message 74 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jun 28 17:31:19 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Akane jumped out of bed onto the cool obsidian tile of his chambers, grinning slightly at the oaken chest in the far corner of the room, "Tis a pity Luna, that is had to end this way.. but, revenge comes to those who wish to claim it.." he smiled, looking down inside the rune laced chest. The night was equally satisfactory, he had killed both Luna and Entropy while they did lord knows what in there tent.. Luckily Rathe was awake to help in incapacitating them, for he may have possibly been challenged by Entropy.. the damned wolf, he will die numerous times if need be, "but for now.. let him have his mate.. I'm sure they'll have fun enough.." he grinned slightly, opening the door to the common room and slipping out. -------------------------- Message 75 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jun 28 19:07:25 1997 EDT From: Brinn (#12457) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: All Things Exact a Price Brinn was lucky enough to find Morpheus at the R/T, she had questions she wanted answered. As they sat in the Lounge, she drew the sword, laying it over her lap as she examined it, asking the Seer her questions. She barely noticed the entrance of Rathe, then Kzin, nor the avid attention they gave the runesword she held as the Seer showed her the past, reasons for war. One hand gripped the blade, the sword edge cutting deeply, her blood dripping to the floor unnoticed as she watched the horrors of war unfold. Kzin suddenly struck out, sending the runesword to the floor, where he quickly grabbed it, wielding it. Brinn slide form her place at the bar and approached Kzin, asking him for the blade to be returned, telling him that he could not use it. He laughed, looking down at the sword. Brinn showed her hand, the deep parallell cuts on the palm of her hand from the blade. "Strike at me with the runesword, Kzin. Thrust it through my heart." Kzin frowned at her and spoke of not having reason to do so, asking if she wished death so easily. Brin shook her head, smiling sadly as she moved to stand before Kzin, the swords blade nearly touching her chest. "No, you will not be able. Thrust, Kzin." Kzin struck out at the DragonMage's heart with the runesword, watching as the sword turned to strike at her unprotected neck, then seemed to be deflected aside, leaving her unharmed. She held her hand open to him still, and with a strange look at the sword, he reversed his hold, placing the hilt in her open hand. His rapier suddenly was at her throat as he laid the runesword in her hand, giving her a warning. The moment Brinn's hand curled around the sword, it moved swiftly, striking Kzin's rapier away from her throat. Kzin advanced on the girl, goading her to strike back, to fight. She refused, then as Kzin struck at her again, the sword again reacted, parrying Kzin's rapier, stike for strike. Rathe stood, arming his bow and begining to circle Brinn. She backed against the wall, beseaching "I will not fight you, Kzin. Please, don't do this." Kzin pressed his attack, his mastery of sword play evident, while the runesword easily parrying, then slicing into Kzin's leg, drawing blood. The pain sent Kzin into a trance, his skills taking over as he pressed his attack harder. The bright blade in Brinn's inexperinced hand flashed, deflecting blow after blow. The young DragonMage seemed to be pulled through the swords movements, her face, arm showing the strain of the unacustomed activity. Brinn drew energies around her, working to restore her draining energies, to strengthen her arm, wrist as pain shot through it, up her arm and settled in her shoulder. Astaroth entered, assessed the situation and he with Rathe joined to block her from gathering energies into herself.She staggered back, eyes wide, flashing to the two working to weaken her. Kzin took the opening, moving swiftly, dropping and swinging his leg around to trip her, while rapier and magesword struck at her stomach, the runesword barely deflecting both leg and swords, the force causing her to stagger back and fall to her knees. Barely able to hold the sword now, her arms tried to raise the sword for Kzins next stike. Exhaustion overcoming her she fell to the floor, unconscious, the sword falling from numb fingers, its glow fading. Brinn looked up at the Eagle in surprise, 'Did Kzin kill me then? How do I find myself here, my sword gone?' She feels a deep, nearly total exhaustion, "What has happened? This is not as before..why do I feel so empty, hurt?" Brinn turned from the Eagle after a small bow, acknowledging his power with respect, and returned to her room on the Mount. She fell into her bed, immediately falling into a deep, healing sleep. -------------------------- Message 76 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jun 29 22:58:33 1997 EDT From: Xrara (#16047) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The freak Xrara sat on her empty bed with bare legs tucked under her. Brubakers long shirt tucked loosely around her. Her head throbbed, from alcohol or from the hit she took from 'the freak'. It didnt matter. She would pay him back in kind. No more no less, and hopefully his sense of honor and justice would prevail to keep this from becoming a circus. Gently she rubbed at her pounding temple, letting her shirt fall from her shoulders as she looked about the lonely room. There was no one to see or care. The freak was smart, he proved that.. and in a way she deserved what she got, but she had her own honor to preserve. She didnt think he expected her to let it be either. Strength wouldnt work with him, it would have to be subtle.. and fast. Xrara smiled and spoke softly to herself, "it will have to work.. i will only get one chance". With that she slipped between the cool cotton sheets and let sleep ease her throbbing head. -------------------------- Message 77 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 30 09:30:06 1997 EDT From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Ahh Christmas day.. It was Thursday December 25, at 3 am. Kaitlyn awoke with a start though sat up smiling to herself. "It's christmas day. Wonder what wonderful present mom and dad got for me this year." Kaitlyn got out of bed and stumbled half-sleepily to her bedroom door. Quietly she opened her door and looked out at her brother's door. Kaitlyn could hear the loud snoring from within and knew Gabriel was still very much asleep. All was quiet by her parent's door too, and Kaitlyn smiled knowing that if they were awake, she would hear them. Sighing, Kaitlyn turned back and climbed into the cool sheets of her bed. Pulling her hair back away from her face, Kaitlyn laid her head on the pillow and fell back to sleep thinking of the wonderful gifts she was going to get. -------------------------- Message 78 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 30 10:35:47 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: .... Just wondering if I could apply in advance for Rathe to play The Grynch (sp?) in this year's GW Christmas musical... -------------------------- Message 79 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 30 10:48:56 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: oops That's the Grinch, I was just informed ;P -------------------------- Message 80 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 30 15:43:10 1997 EDT From: Toraxyn (#19315) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Cursed of life "Toraxyn...." The words of the deep, feminine voice startled his short-lived slumber. He awakened, enough to hear the words in his mind. A question posed on his lips, answered before it could be voiced. "How foolish you are, Observer.. Your time is far from through..." Numbness filled him. Sensations flicked throughout his body, probing him for unwanted life. He clenched sightless eyes, slowly opening them to regard the darkness in discomfort. "Perhaps you thought you would escape through death... Perhaps you thought you could escape your duty.. You are fortunate the virtue of patience is strong in us.." He shuddered at the anger in the voice, the disappointment. Arms at his sides moved, hands grasping out to the nothingness. He shook his head, pushing the voice out of conscious thought, to no avail as the words penetrated beyond thought. "You shall complete that duty now, and forever. Your path will be made clear, Observer. Return now." Toraxyn jerked forward, alone. Away from the soothing calm of death torn and into chilling life his senses moved, jumbled in confusion. He touched his chest, memories of the pain seeping through the confusion. Vision returned to him, showing the lonely contents of his tent in the shades of night. Fingers felt his knife, fallen to the ground at his side, slicked with the dried remains of his own blood. Sighing briefly, he layed back upon his bedroll. Too exhausted to dispose of his agony in tears, he fell into a deep feverish sleep, wrought with dreaming of death. -------------------------- Message 81 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 30 17:14:29 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Ylaerin sat on the dragon cot, leaning against Luthe, as she finished her first full meal in several days. Yshar was - thankfully - sleeping; it was a rare circumstance, but she's taken advantage of it it by not feeling as if she had to hover near him incessantly. She'd taken a sweet, herbed bath.. brushed the multitude of thick tangles from her hair, rubbed Luthe's scratchy hide with Dragon Oil, and eaten an enormous plate of pancakes, smothered in sweet syrup. Freiga had given her a worried glance, and then piled the food on almost mercilessly - but Etra was thankful, and too hungry to object. Luthe sighed behind her, and she allowed herself to drift off ni her thoughts.. what had begun as a wonder and almost a game for the two of them - being Soulbonded at last... sharing the space in their heads and hearts - had begun to feel like a luxury. They had both been worrying, but which one of them was feeding worry and anxiety into the other was hard to say. Etra suspected it to be her fault, laregly; but Luthe countered that .. / I fear for you.. and your child. Of course I miss Tyzrath, and worry about Yshar.. but I sometimes notice things even you don't about yourself.. like how little you sleep and eat. / Etra smiled, and then changed the topic as best she could.. showing her memories of Ireland and her family to Luthe - for probably the millionth time. he chuckled, and nuzzled her ear. She got up, then, and went to Yshar.. touching his hand. Strafe murmured in his sleep.. what is was was indecipherable.. and Etra smiled down at him. they would pull through this somehow. Running a hand over her stomach, and sending a small prayer to any gods who would listen.. Ylaerin prayed that all would be well; and she tried to ignore the sinking sensation that told her she was probably wrong. -------------------------- Message 82 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jun 30 18:40:33 1997 EDT From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: sigh.. Kaitlyn lays down to sleep wondering where her parents were all day. Kaitlyn roamed around the rooms in DarkReach, but none of her family was around. "Maybe they forgot about me." There was no snoring coming from Gabriel's room and no sounds from her parents' room. Kaitlyn finally gave up and went back to her room to lay down for just a moment. The day after Christmas and Kaitlyn wakes up to find still no gifts. "How sad even daddy forgot about me." -------------------------- Message 83 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 00:02:30 1997 EDT From: Kynwal (#1610) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Xmas day Kynwal watched the sun slip beyond the horizon. "I had forgotten that people still celebrated the silly holiday they call christmas. Beltane would be more appropriate. Spending 18 years in the Winterlands does wonders for the memory." -------------------------- Message 84 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 10:52:29 1997 EDT From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Someone remembered me.. After waking up and realizing her father didn't even remember to give her anything for Christmas, Kaitlyn wandered out of DarkReach to the R/T lounge. It was there that she met up with Morrigan. Kaitlyn knew Morrigan wasn't going to pursue her until her parents said he could, but still he was sweet to her. Almost too much so as Kaitlyn wasn't ready for something so permanent. Morrigan noticed Kaitlyn's sad face right away because she is usually so smily and bubbly. Lifting her chin slowly he asks her, "Why the long face sweetest." Kaitlyn just shrugged and said it was nothing, thinking to herself . o O ( Daddy didn't get me a present for christmas ). Morrigan just smiled at her and said, "I have something for you." Kaitlyn's face brightened up immediately as she smiled at Morrigan, "you do?" Morrigan moved his hand and held out a soft little teddy bear with little black eyes and a quilted patchwork body. Kaitlyn hugged the teddy bear tightly and smiled at Morrigan, "You remembered me?" Morrigan just chuckled at Kaitlyn and asked, "How could I forget one so sweet as you Kaitlyn?" Kaitlyn hugged Morrigan tightly and kissed his cheek. "Thank you Morrigan," Kaitlyn whispered softly in his ear. -------------------------- Message 85 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 12:40:06 1997 EDT From: Winter (#8571) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Trapped Within the Confines of her own Worship Rated - AA/R She paced around in her room, every step a painful hobble. Her scalp itched her and no matter how hard she tried, she could not strighten her body. Yearning to be free, if only for one night, she ripped the Hag's skin from her form. The pain came then, excutiating and sharp. She was disobeying her Master by removing the shell. This horrid shell he had chosen for her. The webbed walls of the chamber pulsated gently then and transformed into mirrored surfaces. She watched herself, this way and that. She really did look like her dear mother. Stripping every bit of clothing and shell from her body, deep green eyes executed their own self-exploration. Hesitant fingers were soon to follow...the only physical pleasure she knew of. Yet. After her self-pleasure she decided to venture out. Unconsciously, she was searching for someone. Someone to make her whole. Someone to make her a woman. Her destiny was not to accomplish those goals however. Her Master was not far behind her. He enforced his magick upon her and the Hag's flesh clamped back onto her skin. The rest of the night, she could barely remember...Zarathos had punished her thoroughly. And so she fell asleep finally as the demon returned to his own crypt, battered and beaten, sore and empty. It was only the memory of what it felt like as her own fingers trailed across her belly and lower, that had strenghtened her reserve. It had all been worth it. Oh yes indeed it had. -------------------------- Message 86 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 14:26:58 1997 EDT From: Gabriel (#17639) To: *Storylines (#5236) Gabriel coughed as he rolled onto his side in bed. Leaning over the edge of his bed, he vomited violently into the clay basin left strategically upon the floor. Sighing, he cursed his poor constitution and the self-inflicted neglect of his body's needs. For days, he had suppressed both hunger and thirst while he worked intently upon his latest work. Little more than days after he had completed the crafting of his rings, a fever had come upon him, leaving him helplessly bedridden. The contrast of feelings that surged through him from his sister's bond did little to improve his mood as he stared upwards at the ceiling wondering what cursed occurance of nature might have created his tormenting bug. Thoughts of "Daddy didn't get me anything for Christmas...." cycled through his mind despite his efforts to block them. Affectionate images of Morrigan's face and the feel of his cheek appeared occasionally in Gabriel's feverish dreams. Struggling to deal with the accursed images in his mind, Gabriel willed himself to turn his attention towards the arts to which he had so passionately dedicated himself. Unconsciously, his thoughts turned towards the sights he had witnessed upon Mount Morlith before his parents had forbid him to visit. The image came without warning....a sudden burst of inspiration that before, had only come with long hours of silent contemplation and thought. The image of the long dragon's tooth inscribed with augmenting runes of power....the perfect vessel for the transmission and formation of magical enchantments. A thin smile emerged upon Gabriel's sweat covered face as he submerged his mind in deep planning.....a haven from the ever haunting face of the Morrigan. -------------------------- Message 87 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 18:17:13 1997 EDT From: Lise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Vengeful thoughts. Lise lie down next to the form of her sleeping husband. He had not witnessed what she had seen earlier that night. Perhaps it was best that way. The actions of the "Unholy Father" as Astaroth had called him, had made her smile. "Entertainment for at least one night." She murmured aloud. His actions however were arrogant. It reminded her of Embryon some time before. When the crowd had dispursed, she had let her eyes fall over the now ranting Astaroth. He cried out for blood thirsty lust and it had been humorous to her when she had felt the kiss of his sword against her neck. When she had returned from Mirawuti's generosity, she set out for the lounge again after him. She thought how slow, delibrate her actions were, when they finally met, she saw his face satisfied from the death of her. She had known early on she would enjoy causing him pain. When she struck at him, he hardly returned the fight (in fights sake). No more was the acts to him brought on like a well choreographed dance, and she saw how he enjoyed each movement of her sword, opening new viens to spill the wine of his body. Her cuts were slow, her actions calculated. She began to enjoy more his body, fading, then actually killing him. The others within the room somewhat became oblivious, her focus entirely on bringing about his death. She enjoyed the way he spoke with still shrill confidences. How his daemon pet that hang from his shoulder attempt at attacking her. She enjoyed it all. Lise enjoyed the spectacle more as he rushed to break from her grasp. She watched him, caked and covered with his own blood stumble forth away from her grasp. She watched and smiled. "Perhaps there is more pleasure indeed in what has happened, than what I had set forth to do. " She smiled, her eyes flickering a red fire grey. Death was too easy, she thought to herself. The way to please the inner soul was to watch the suffering, the struggle. The actions before the freedom of the Eagle. -------------------------- Message 88 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 18:37:45 1997 EDT From: Ariadne (#20332) To: *Chat (#5391) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: OOC post Necropolis is again open. Have fun. :) BTW - Be forewarned that you can die and/or get hurt while there. -------------------------- Message 89 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 19:59:56 1997 EDT From: Winter (#8571) To: *Flame (#8228), *Storylines (#5236), and *Chat (#5391) Subject: Reminder When you see Winter out and about ICly, look at her. Depending on her garb, you may or may not recognize her. Messes up RP otherwise. -------------------------- Message 90 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 21:18:45 1997 EDT From: Nikita (#14465) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Scramble (R, adult themes) Kita scrambled around Norad, late a night, barging into the canteen. In a frenzy, she singled out a repair worker she knew, rushed over and grabbed her by the scruff of her collar. The tech looked at Nikita wide-eyed. "Teach me everything there is to know about making love to a man, and tell me now! You've got five seconds, trooper!" Nikita barked at the tech. She hated feeling so inexperienced. The frightened little tech sputtered out some incomprehensible phrases, and Nikita let her go, sighing. What was the use...? Skip'd have to find out she knew nothing someday... On her way out of the canteen, she knocked over a water cooler, sending it crashing to the floor with a dull thunk. The durable plastek resisted her rage, thankfully for the cleanup crew. "Men" she thought. She'd keep her wrench close by, and if Solitude so much as laughed... She smiled at the thought, stalking down the corridor in search of someone else to interrogate on the matter. -------------------------- Message 91 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 21:25:09 1997 EDT From: Akeashar (#20348) To: *Storylines (#5236) Akeashar sat down, looking at a small picture. "Oh my love.. such wonderful love we made.. oh them passionate nights in the club Quinn, how dear you held me tight, your warm silky skin against mine, your full lips crushing mine.." he smiles down at the picture, "oh my darling... teddy bear." the picture reveals a cute brown teddy bear with button eyes and a patchwork body. -------------------------- Message 92 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 1 21:25:26 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Sex Posts Interesting and all, but what's with the new trend? I'm gonna start writing about Rathe and Necrophilia if you guys don't stop.. And yes, that IS a threat. -------------------------- Message 93 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 2 01:29:29 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Searching around the room, he looked for a sign.. anything, "dammit.. where is Serenio?" he grumbled, muttering some incantations and trying to scry for her using a piece of clothing she used to have.. the spell failed and the clothing disentigrated, "The hell?" he growled, throwing the shreds of clothing against the wall.. first she vanishes now Luna gets reprogrammed.. "damn this is not my week.." he drank some tea and rushed out the double doors of the spellsinger hall, ignoring the workers as they constructed and planned. -------------------------- Message 94 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 2 05:54:21 1997 EDT From: Tadewi (#16048) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Voices. Tadewi sat straight up in bed, her hand drifting to the empty space beside her. Kzin was gone and her head reeled with a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. She coughed and grabbed her temples, trying to draw back her mind from the insanity within. Something had gone wrong, something horrible and she tasted the coppery iron of blood on her tongue. *Great Goddess, what has happened... what has he done...* She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and struggled to stand, only to collapse to her knees, her entire body trembling violently. Kzin's thoughts touched hers briefly and she could only repeat one question to him over and over... *Why... why... why* She never even felt her body fall to the floor, unconcious... a trail of blood seeping from her nostrils and the corners of her eyes, staining her tri-colored hair red and pink. -------------------------- Message 95 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 2 06:03:33 1997 EDT From: Eponine (#3791) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A death in the family... Eponine stares at the messanger in complete disbelief, the missive in her hand turning cold, the black lettering mocking her on such a shiny white background. He salutes her formally and gives his apologies, murmuring words of comfort. Eponine barely hears him, her ears have begun to ring and her mind has gone numb. This could not be happening. Her twin, her sister... was dead. She doesn't realize the tears are falling, nor does she hear the gasps as she falls to her knees. She doesn't care, nothing matters anymore. Her sister is dead... and she's not coming back. "Witness protect you, Tazzia," she says to herself and crosses her heart. Her grieving time begins. -------------------------- Message 96 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 2 13:01:36 1997 EDT From: Kzin (#5800) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Ongaurd! Kzin trembled, naked to the waist in the cold stone cell, circling the lithe, powerful old man, then suddenly darted in, a flurry of strikes following his movements. The master spun and almost disappeared, but was arrested in mid-movement by a scarred fist shooting just a inch across the space before his throat, halting his momentum. Kzin was silently exhultant inside, and backed his edge with another swift series of attacks, not bothering to stand ready to block blows he knew the master would not throw, entirely defensive now. The master blocked every blow perfectly, neither smile nor frown passing his face, instead a look of concentration. Suddenly the pattern reversed, the master taking offensive, Kzin defensive. He found himself blocking forms he had never seen before, purely through deeply grained practise, falling automatically into the war-trance and pushing past pain or limits, seeing the entire world in the glowing forms of mage-energy, as the battle fell from physical to magical, sending attacks and parries instead with elemental and life energies, and the occasional dark crackle of necromatic energies as well. Two forms stood amidst the whirlwind of powers, hands at thier sides, runes glowing across one body, ancient, unassailable power outlining the other. Finally Kzin bowed his head and took a step back, acknolwedging the master's superiority, in this. The first words spoken that day: "Thank you master, for once again, you have proved to be a great faciliator of thought, as well as a most suitable subject of study. I do not recognize those forms which you took upon me this day. I shall remember them." The master nodded his head once and both men bowed, then the master moved away, to a bamboo flatbox in the corner of the room , beside a single, thin mattress, and returned, presenting a single strip of cloth to Kzin. He spoke "Take this, upon thee, Kzin. You are bound, now, to teach those who ask it of you, for you are a master now, and as peer to me, no longer student. Kzin's eyebrow raised in surprise, but he bowed low and took the cloth, laying it along the others lining the inside of his robe. He thanked the master, restraining the smile that fought to break his lips, and left the temple, heading for his home, Thinking of the implications.. -------------------------- Message 97 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 3 07:07:21 1997 EDT From: Embeth (#18794) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: And the Plot Sickens. Embeth kneeled before the alter in the Sun Hall, her eyes falling downwards towards the two pictures resting in golden frames. She studied each face silently, a single tear sliding down one cheek, even after all these years. Her voice nearly broke as she whispered lovingly to each face, "Javmar... Mier, it has begun, I will finish this, for you. Their evil shall be wiped away, so that none shall ever suffer as you had to... my sons." -------------------------- Message 98 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 3 11:45:06 1997 EDT From: Haefen (#16887) To: *Storylines (#5236) -------------------------- Message 99 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 5 22:10:32 1997 EDT From: Darci (#12478) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Smoke's Departure Sitting on the bed, Darci studied the familiar markings of the seal, recognizing it as Smoke's, she quickly slid a dagger under the wax opening the envelope. Her hands shaking she lifted the letter out and read it slowly. To my Dear Sister, The truth has been revealed. The soulbonding of Kzin and Tadewi has proven my suspicions that his love was not as true as he claimed. I can no longer exist in a world where his madness thrives. And to make matters worse Rathe has become thy enemy. I will travel for a time, please do not worry my sister, for when the time is right I will return. And for every pain they have caused me I will return it ten fold. Love and Kisses, Your loving sister, Smokie -------------------------- Message 100 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 6 04:58:41 1997 EDT From: Alluvia (#12737) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Peace finally? Alluvia left the Magister with a smile. Where she once feared, she did no longer. When she reached to the tower of her teacher, she entered, crawled up the stairs and undressed. She slipped under the sheets and sighed, her daugher happily too asleep, to awaken early the next morn. Alluvia did not mind. She knew she would sleep calmly the night, in the warm bed, in the quiet of the Tower. She knew the nightmares would not return. It was strange how her troubles began righting themselves. How even her greatest struggle, with Toraxyn, slowly began to clear away. She no longer felt afraid. She no longer felt alone. It was a strange feeling indeed, for even when Toraxyn was near, she had not felt this. Everything about her was at peace for once, and so too was the tiny daughter, Darisa. Alluvia knew she could return tot he tree soon, but almost she wished not to. She rather wished to live in this peace a while longer -- -------------------------- Message 101 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 6 12:27:40 1997 EDT From: Jasmine (#20345) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Alone, so very Alone The little toddler wrapped herself up tightly in her parents' bed, tangling herself mercilessly in the cool cotton sheets. The clock ticked away the time, each second like a deafening heartbeat in her mind. Mommy and her new Daddy hadn't come home as yet. She missed their warmth. The bed seemed so cold and big now. The nanny was sleeping in the other room. Jasmine contemplated going in and snuggling up with her. Mommy and Daddy had never been away for this long before. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. Suppose they weren't coming back? -------------------------- Message 102 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 6 12:29:14 1997 EDT From: Mulder (#709) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Press Release This went out over the ShadowFax newswires around noon... EndoCorp is greatly saddenned to announce the death of the corporations President, Mulder and his new wife Cristal. The two were in transit from Real/Time to Toosay Island when the incident occured. The private transport they were traveling in suffered a sudden power surge, which blew out the ships power core, sending the burning craft hurtling into the sea. An investigation is on-going. Our greatest sympathies go out to the families of both. Leadership of EndoCorp has been passed to the board of directors, which will announce their appointment of an interm president sometime later today. EndoCorp is a manufacturer and maintainer of large-scale transportation and development applications, as well as high technology implimentation and distribution. EndoCorp was founded in 2597, and remains one of the most profitable global corporations, maintaining an international transportation infrastructure for various megacorporations, as well as public use. EndoCorp information can be obtained from the sales bot at 220.310.40 on EarthNet. * OOC * We're dead. Hah. So _there_. -------------------------- Message 103 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 6 16:15:53 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: upon darkened shores stands the watchman, the ferris wheels topple, we have completed one revolution... gregor opened his eyes and stared up at the swirls in the pine-log roof expecting, or at first believing that they were constellations. The dull thudding pain between his legs brought him out of his haze, and he gulped heavily as the memories of the past few days crept back into his consciousness. He lifted the sheet then raised his head and looked down over his body. He could see the dried blood, brown against the material of his loin cloth that was now bound as a bandage over the self-inflicted wound.. He tried to move his legs and winced, inhaling deeply, then nodding slowly he sat up on the edge of the bed. The strange affair, Harrison, the dream...it all made his temples ache as he tried to steady himself enough to stand. How long had he been here? Months? He couldn't say...but he could remember before. Sentenced to banishment from his home world, left adrift in the small containment tube, he had traveled for ages before coming to rest in the wastes. Along the way he began to dream, his dream began with a man... He spent years filling in every detail of his face, placing every pore, every whisker, till it was complete, whole...the body had been so dreamed, section by section, until one day gregor smiled at the man, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling slowly as he slumbered. "Now, "said gregor to the man, "it is time to wake you." And just as he reached out to stir his creation, something happened... There was a shrill alarm from somehwere far away, then the sound of crunching metal...his fingers just brushed the hair from the man's brow when he was thrown back, falling...at the same moment he had felt the man's hands close tightly around his throat. He looked up into they cold blue eyes and flailed about helplessly under his strength. The world faded, his face coming to rest on the burning sand. Thus was Harrison born from a dream. He had accepted the reality of his existence, created memories, a lifetime, and had lived...but always with the nagging fear that one day gregor would stir, would come to find him...gregor was gib...gregor was god in box... The attempted murder of his creator was not Harrison's only crime. Under the strain and paranoia caused by his situation, Harrison had become brutal, savage. gregor moved off the edge of the bed and felt naseous as the pain shot from his his groin and radiated up his spine. "Justice..." he muttered, then staggered to the small table, threw open the shutters and vomited out the cabin window. gregor's mind held the faces of each of them firmly in place as his abdomen convulsed...smoke...jaelene...ariana...the fear, the crying and pleading...their voices had cried out to gregor for justice, and he had come upon Harrison, weakened by the blows of Toraxyn's longknife, and with a violent upward swing of his sickle had promptly castrated him. He battled for days with his daemon, then let him drink in his own death, a cup of Venom from Temple. With his body slowly fading as gregor looked on, something akin to enlightenment graced Harrison's brow, and he laughed deeply, then closed his eyes, and ceased to be... -------------------------- Message 104 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jul 7 00:39:32 1997 EDT From: Kynwal (#1610) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Austin no more The finger reached for the blue button shaking slightly. 'Laugh at me will they. Mock ME WILL THEY!' A fiery voice thought. With a soft *click* the button was depressed. A beeping deep in the city ceased and another soft click was heard. Those in the immediate area felt nothing, their deaths were instaneous as the funnel cloud rose high into the Austin skyline. Those a bit farther out had time to see the explosion before being incinerated. Those closer to the outskirts had their shadows fused into the ground. Those even farther out died from more mundane things. An old figure pulled down the goggles covering his sunburned face. "Mock me will they...." He would die soon of rad posioning but he didn't care. -------------------------- Message 105 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jul 7 22:10:45 1997 EDT From: Komodo (#20141) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Wakening Komodo rose shakily to his feet, his head pounding.. his mouth painfully dry. "Flee...must run...", he muttered to himself. Snapping his head about, he lurched forward and crashed through the heavy door leading outside. Stumbling forward, he escaped into the wilderness. -------------------------- Message 106 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 8 16:38:43 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Silver Branch She stood on the heath, and she recalled that she hadn't been there since the night Tyzrath was murdered. The thought made Ylaerin shiver as she looked around; the light was silvery and a cool breeze was blowing.. but nothing around her made fear swim up into her heart, and so she waited patiently for Syyrl. He came, soon enough, and smiled at her though there was much worry in his eyes. HE draped a feathered cloak around her shoulders, and offered his arm saying, 'We risk much to bring you here, my Laerin. But here you are nonetheless.. so let us go.' She shot him a puzzled glance, for he rarely called her by her Bondname, but took his arm and followed him across the moor. They walked together silently for some time, and climbed a low rise. By the time they reached the top, Lyetra was weary and breathless.. and glad to see several chairs sitting. She and Syyrl sat side by side, and as he reached over to smooth a swan feather at her shoulder, a fair man (with eyes so shockingly green they made Etra smile) came up over the rise to meet them. Etra recognized him as the nameless bard who had spoken to her the night she would not be roused from sleep while Tyz.. but she shoved that out of her head as he sat across from her. 'We've much to speak of, Lady Shar,' the man said.. and his voice was tihinly vieled music, 'You are, for all purposes I can see, Bard of Morlith. And a good one at that. Your harping is top rate, you not only know the required ballads, but ones outside our tradition.. and you've a natural composer with a lovely voice.' Ylaerin blushed, but he went on, 'I do not need to flatter you, lady.. you've been groomed for this from the start. You've been thrown about like chaff, and I can't say I'm not a bit responsible for that.. but history has spread beyond the grasp of our craft, and we needed you to make legends come to life.' Etra felt Luthe's questioning and sleepy touch on her mind, and soothed him ebfore replying. 'Well, sir.. Syyrl has delivered many messages from the higher circles, and I've done my --' He cut her off, and she belatedly (and with much astonishment) noticed that he carried her own carven harp and quarterstaff. 'No proper intorduction has been made between us, Lyetra, but first I give you these things as belongings of a bard made full. And with many blessings and congratulations.' Her harp was as it always had been, and she smiled at it... but her staff was now bound at it's center with a hand grip of blue fabric, wrapped in silver thread that was threaded with small silver bells. Still a fully functional weapon - it was now also a talisman of her bardic art; it bore three Ogham signs as well - luis (the rowan, for protection she wagered), saille (the willow, a sign of her sorrows), and muinn (the vine, for her creativity and femininity). 'Now that you have these, you are truly a bard. The Golden branch awaits you, now that the Silver is in hand, and I do not doubt you can have it. You must go now, for I've risked too much of you bringing you here in your state... you are not well, and I endanger your child with my silly musician's games. But you can use this protection, and take strength from this congratulations I give. Now go on.. before I have to answer to your husband.' He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but blush like a young lass, she stood to go, realizing that his words of warning were true.. and was about to leave when he stopped her. 'My name.. I've lost my manners in my old age, but you know me anyhow.. Taliesin, my lass.. and don't go all gooey eyed on me, get home.' She awoke, gasping for air, clutching her harp and sitting on Luthe's cot. She did not know how she got there, or how her staff came to be at ehr feet. But there it was.. as it had been in her dream. She was joyful and puzzled.. and she was honored. But now, she had to sleep - it may be too late to repair the damage that the stress and worry of the past few months had done to her, but she would jsut have to take it one day at a time. Leaning on Luthe, she made her weary way back to her bed, and curled into Yshar as much as his sleeping form would let her... -------------------------- Message 107 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 9 10:57:11 1997 EDT From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: under seige! War! Locking Red Fang and his people out of the R/T building is a act of war and he has declared the R/T building under seige.. Anyone caught coming out of it onto his wasteland will be taken prisoner. Red. -------------------------- Message 108 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 10 16:33:27 1997 EDT From: Renna (#12014) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Crush. Renna practically flew into her room, the door slamming shut behind her. She leaned against it, slowly sinking to the floor. The book in her hands got tossed aside, into a pile she had been meaning to put back on the shelf, but had been procrastinating on. She rubbed her temples and sighed, trying to stave off the sleepiness she felt coming on again. Magister Morpheus said to Center herself, not fall asleep of all things. Her thoughts were constantly disturbed by him... Gabriel, son of Kynwal. His smile, that feeling that sent goosebumps through her arm when his fingers touched hers. She couldn't fathom why he occupied her mind so much. She had studies to get to and books to read and... she thought of him touching her face, brushing her hair aside and nearly slapped herself for it. "Renna, you're losing it..." she chastized herself. She climbed into bed, snuggling the comforter around herself. She would have to find her father, or maybe even Rand, and ask about what this meant. She had no time for silly thoughts of men... -------------------------- Message 109 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 12 04:57:54 1997 EDT From: Slayer (#9883) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: possible tps.. Page me if you're interested in working out any RP/TP with either of the following: 1) Anything with the subbies.. 2) Some type of barbrawl.. no weapons, no pk, no looting.. just fun RP. Prolly use Espada lounge so as to not further upset good ol Osbornn. ;) page me if interested in either or another tp. If i dont respond, mail me. -------------------------- Message 110 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 12 11:42:58 1997 EDT From: Traxsu (#16334) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: How about.... A Mage/Warrior Challenge, completely pose, entrance fee is 1k, first prive gets 50%, second 30%, and 20% for third. Seperate contest for weapons and mages, or perhaps just one big one, should catch everyones attention, no coded stuff however. -------------------------- Message 111 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 12 11:44:25 1997 EDT From: Traxsu (#16334) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: coded arena Feh on certain individuals nagging me if you want to do a coded one be my guest I hope you all kill yourselves ;P -------------------------- Message 112 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 12 12:44:18 1997 EDT From: Dauthi (#10660) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: looking for. Judges, players who are of high esteem, that also will not be participating in the arena, you'll just get to watch *grin* -------------------------- Message 113 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 13 16:37:32 1997 EDT From: Clayson (#17237) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Lunatics running wild. Trying to roll over Mona awoke. Her hands and feet still bound by some kind of magical force. Turning her head slightly she could see Menroth sleeping next to her. His face even in deep sleep held the look of a mad man. Her mind flashed back to the night before, Rathe and Menroth beating her over and over, forcing her to submit to their cynical ways. She glanced down at her breasts, swollen, blood speckled from the barbaric torture Rathe performed. She started shaking uncontrollably as the memory of the pins being pushed further and further into her, knowing if she screamed out or moved the pain would intensify ten fold. Closing her eyes, she thought of the ocean, the water surrounding her body, caressing her. She pushed the pain of the night deep inside her. Relaxing slightly she drifted back to sleep. -------------------------- Message 114 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 13 16:40:21 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) I didn't do it.. It was the one armed man.. -------------------------- Message 115 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jul 14 23:23:53 1997 EDT From: Brinn (#12457) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Retcon THis is to notify everyone that Brinn is not 'The One True King' from Morpheus's TP and has Not recieved the runesword called Justiciar. At a future date, soon I hope, that part of the TP will occur with a $player's character being the recipient. That char has already been chosen, so please do not page/@send. Also, thos in the RP of Kzin and Brinn's 'sparring' session with the runesword, in the lounge, please contact me. It needs to be decided if she the rp that happened AFTER her being KO'd occurred and if so..what occurred. Thanks! -------------------------- Message 116 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 15 00:23:11 1997 EDT From: Yjezra (#5288) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Re 115 Brinn was sitting at the bar with Morpheus, Rathe was sitting at the hearth. Kzin walked in, unnoticed by Brinn, whose back was turned, and came up behind her silently. Kzin tapped her on the shoulder, then tried a nerve pinch. He then struck at her with the hilt of his sword, KO'ing her. From there, the RP stands. Rathe, Astaroth and Kzin did their thing. -------------------------- Message 117 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 18 01:53:26 1997 EDT From: Nigel (#7159) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Pathways Nigel sat at the desk and gazed at the book open in front of him. He didn't know what book it was...or what it said. His eyes were focused inward. But still he kept the scholar's habit. The pretense of study. The myth that he cared. What was his life's work when his life crumbled apart around him. He had lost the mothers of his children...one through death, one through an estrangement he feared was unbreachable. "Ah father," he whispered, setting his book down and gazing at the small crib where Draco nestled warmly in his half-sister's, Ralia's, arms. "You told me to laugh in the face of death. Is this what you meant?" But still he saw the spectre of death looming before him. Still he knew the bloody rage that filled him...that threatened to release the inner beast of his soul. How he had wanted to slaughter that fool Byron. That smirking, self-rightous...that...that. that what? That man he didn't know...? And Lise? his light, his love....his heart. Still his body tensed. Still he wished to strike her down, again and again and again...his love, his light...his Lise...his...his... Lise who could never belong to any man...even him. He knew her so well. He loved her so much.And though it killed him inside, he understood. "Oh Father...what if the face of death is your own?" So he played the clown. Made of his love a mockery. Made of his pain a game. And inside he demanded, he pleaded. 'Laugh at me...laugh at me and defeat me. Laugh at _me_' Nigel crumpled to the floor by his desk, the book dropping from his fingers as he was racked with sobs. Oh Marawuti..." Deep in his heart he searched and found the words of his prayer. "Of great Eagle who takes from us those friends we barely knew and returns out enemies from the grave to torment us. Marawuti who grants us eternal life incarnate. Freed us from sword, from steel...from the lethal power of our clenching fist. Forgive me. Forgive me for wanting to waste your most precious gift. Forgive me for deep in my heart I did take advantage of your benificiance. I have lost my way. With your keen sight, help me find it. I have lost my balance. Give me example in the flawless grace of your flight. I have lost my heart. Help me find it in you and in the lives of my children. As my wife, who I cannot love but hate...who I cannot hate, but love all the more. As she did bargain with you to save my soul from the Abyss, so let me bargain. I will be your servant. I will teach the people not to squander your gift. Just help me...cleanse this bloodlust from my mind. Remove this spectre of death from my visage. Give me the heart to love she who is dearest to me in all the world. Marawuti, give me a sign. Exhausted, Nigel collapsed to the floor. In time the sobs ceased and his breathing deepened. And he slept. A peaceful sleep. Free of dreams, of worries, of the spectre of death he fought within himself. Phantos rose from where she lay on the corner and padded over to him, curlying around his prone body, lending her warmth to protect him from the chill of the floor. And so they slept together. And when dawn came, Nigel awakened and knew that he had been answered. -------------------------- Message 118 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 18 15:13:36 1997 EDT From: Morrigan (#10469) To: *Storylines (#5236) and Morrigan (#10469) Subject: Tus ga Deireadh -- Beginning without End Morrigan stood on his Tower's roof, watching as he had so many times in the past, the breaking light of dawn approach as the orange-yellow sun brought morning to the world. At his side, his faithful and tireless friend, StormChild, crackled faintly as the light of another day brought its glow across the blade's hilt and tsuba. A faint >caw< followed by another in turn, heralded the approach of Macha and Badb, who alighted to perch on one of the merlons, preening slightly, the sun's rays giving their obsidian feathers a dark, burnished hue. "Morrigu, for you I have nothing but respect, honor, and all-consuming adoration as you are my savior...but I'm so tired...so tired Morrigu...I don't wish to die...I've become to fond of eternal life....but I cannot rest, cannot recoup that of what I once held before me as a shield, proclaiming your majesty, defending your honor and my own as well...", the ancient Mage thought to himself, eyes closing as the sun shone into his face, warming skin, heating bone. A soft footfall behind him. Morrigan turned, expecting to find one of his students, and started, eyes widening as a familiar form stepped to the Tower's roof. Raven-black hair hanging down in a long ponytail, porcelain skin, shimmering, piercing emerald eyes, full, pouty lips, graceful fingers and gilded step...Morrigu stood before Morrigan, dressed in Her chosen attire, eldritch black platemail armor, and longword sheathed across her back. Morrigan looked at her, turning to stride to her soundlessly, stopping a respectful distance before Morrigu. "My Lady...I know what else to tell thee...you know of me, can see into my soul, my heart...know what I feel, see how I am? What would you have me do, my Lady? For insomuch as you command it, so shall I do so unto the fullest of my capabilities." Morrigu gazed at Morrigan, stepping across the remaining distance soundlessly, wrapping Her arms around him tightly, a desparate, loving embrace. His arms came up slowly, encircling Her waist and back, as he held Her in turn. They stood for a long while, unbroken, each knowing the other, being with the other's heart and spirit, past any form of explainable understanding. Morrigan felt a wetness upon his cheek, and brought his head up from its nestled place in Morrigu's shoulder, and looked at his Goddess, eyes wide in sudden sadness, shock, confusion. "My Lady, why doth you cry? In 1400 years of my life, never have you done such until now....please...tell me...what saddens thee?" Morrigu smiled slightly, almost a blush as She brought pale fingers to wipe away crystalline tears. "Morgann...oh...sometimes I would trade my life with yours so easily...to escape the burdens of what I have learned...to be able to live as you have lived...but as you, I cannot part with what I am able to do, what I have become.....I feel your sadness, your pain and grief...and I do understand, for always in you, there is part of me...." Listening intently, sudden awareness flooding into Morrigan as he realized of what She must deal with, in comparison to himself. Sensing the change within him, Morrigu continued, murmuring, "The area around the barrow where your body rested while in Nic-Naemaen, is a lush area, and not unlike the home of your past...your kind..._our_ kind live there, and will greet you with open arms, and warm heart. If you wish to go, then I will aid thee, as befitting one who has shown inexplicably profound service to me." Morrigan nodded his assent, stopping to ask, "My Lady..what of the Daione Sidhe here who has tak..." Porcelain fingers touched his lips, barring the finish, "If she comes forth, you will be made known, of this you have my promise, Morgann...I understand, better than you could ever realize..and the Son's daughter is a well-made choice, for she shares much your same honor, concern...as well as your stubborness and mischevious natures as well.", as Morrigu finished, a faint, wry grin flickering across Her face. Sparkling blue eyes met shimmering pools of emerald, the Adept asking softly, "And you? What will you do, where will you be?" Morrigu was quiet, almost a statue, before responding by taking his hand in Her own, "I'll come with you Morgann." A shimmering, cobalt portal of lightning opened behind the eldritch Deity and ancient Adept, the Daughter of Storms rumbling in response to the lightning affectionately. Macha and Badb, spread wings and jumped aloft from their perches to circle once before flying through the portal, followed by the pair, hand in hand... -------------------------- Message 119 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 18 15:15:35 1997 EDT From: Kynwal (#1610) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A new day Kynwal woke, rising from his bed. He made his way to the was basin, filled it with water and then brushed his teeth. He gazed into the mirror with bleary, bloodshot eyes, decided to hell with shaving. Splashing some fresh cold water on his face, he left to enter a new day. -------------------------- Message 120 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 18 18:54:49 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Subject: Birth Announcement! Seen posted in the R/T and also Morlith's Bulletin Board: Lillies and storks entwine in gold ink around the border, and in Ylaerin's flowing hand you read... With much pride and celebration, Ylaerin and Yshar announce the birth of their first child - a son, Rowan Ciaran Shar. Born the evening of February 12, in Morlith's garden he is a fine and healthy young lad. Many thanks to those who've supported our family in the difficulties of the past months - and to Yalindra, who acted as midwife. May the sun shine on you! -Lyetra and Strafe Shar. -------------------------- Message 121 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 18 20:42:16 1997 EDT From: Kzin (#5800) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Espada Kzin slowly stalked into the room, giving a terse nod to Sanchez, and taking a seat at the bar, motioning for a drink of some type, with a mutter of "As long as it's got alchol. He sat back and waited, taking the shot of tequila and slamming it, then handing sanchez a few crystals and asking for the bottle. A thought. Time to find the worm,finish the bottle, and see what develops. THe world was fresh. And the bottle was near full -------------------------- Message 122 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 18 23:47:39 1997 EDT From: Kynwal (#1610) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Fire! The fire raged out of control till the Magus Kynwal arrived in a shimmering sparkle. His eyes took in the dancing fire, the Espada almost completely gone. With a few quick spells he put out the remaining blaze. His own eyes, now burning hotter then the flames just put out. -------------------------- Message 123 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 04:22:41 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Fire in the hull (or a blaster disaster). Akane crept along the spellsinger hall, holding his dagger at the ready, glancing around the great hall and slowly making his way upstairs. He whirled around, glancing at himself in the mirror. his eyes were red and his stance looked drunken. soot graced his face near the crown of his head and his black hair was flecked with ashes. He sheathed his dagger and reached for the knob to his door when he heard a crash, he whipped around, instinctively flinging supersonic blue crystal shards at the source. The rat got it alright.. along with the wall of the hall. he sighed, "shit.. oh well, i'll do something about it tommorrow." he walked into his chambers, glancing at the half nude figure sound asleep on his bed. he blinked his bloodshot eyes and then smiled faintly, "whew.." he murmured, "only Taisia.." he slipped off his shirt and slid into the bed beside her, draping an arm over her and rubbing her arm gently, "tommorrow is another day.. my sweet." his mind kept on drifting to the Magus, whose eyes were close to blazing infernos after he put out the fire. he shivered, the power of an angry magus was close to godlike.. he put that thought aside as he thought of future events.. and things to come ahead. -------------------------- Message 124 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 10:33:36 1997 EDT From: Anansi (#10706) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Matters of the heart. Anansi woke up startled and looked around his tent, all he saw was lilith, she was frightened as well, the dream kept coming back to him, nightmares. Blood over his hands as he couldn't figure out who he killed, it was too dark he felt something at his feet and raised it up he nearly fell when he lifted it. The girl, had her throat torn out, his own hands having killed her, bu the face is what got him, and the eyes... He awoke each time feeling as though he was losing himself, losing his humanity, his ability to care and love. And with this new girl he had met it was more confusing, with no hatred, no fear of him, she made him want to smile and laugh again. But the pain still remained, abandoned, forgotten, not trusted, and finally shattered. Anansi wondered if he could love again, if he could trust again. But even if he could, the blood dream, he had killed her with his own hands, even if he could love, could he trust himself? -------------------------- Message 125 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 12:36:38 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Whee Rathe rolled out of bed, hitting the ground with a rather loud thump. Scrambling to his feet, he peered around his laboratory warily, and brushed himself off. "Someone keeps pushing me to the edge of the bed..," he muttered. A smirk on his face, the mage headed downstairs, and outside to catch a transport to the R/T, Resin's voice still echoing in his head.. "BURN YOU HALF MEXICAN BASTARD, BURN!" ..... -------------------------- Message 126 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 17:31:55 1997 EDT From: Yjezra (#5288) To: *RPG (#1193) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Flaming Heiffer/Thelma Gus's wife has returned to health and is back serving meals to patron's of their pub, The Flaming Heiffer. Thelma invites everyone to come and enjoy a meal and/or drink at the pub in Drach'Nal. -------------------------- Message 127 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 17:52:50 1997 EDT From: Kynwal (#1610) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Beginnings Kynwal drew a small circle around him with white powder. Then he began to chant the words from a large tome before him. The candles of the room were snuffed out one by one...but he read on. -------------------------- Message 128 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 20:34:37 1997 EDT From: Brinn (#12457) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Glad ending to a busy day It was a long day. First she finds her papa Ynaoise had brought her new friend Daniel to the Mount, for a 'Talk'. Then she learned that Myst and Devon and their baby girl had been ruthlessly killed. She smiled slightly as she cleaned the silver bowl and ceremonial dagger of the blood from the SoulBonded she had just performed. Her teacher, Baltisaar and his wife, Lovinia...Both dear friends. Sighing, she put the things away as she wished them the best in life and love. -------------------------- Message 129 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 20:37:11 1997 EDT From: Raelan (#20231) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Alone in the wilderness Raelan stood upon the corpse of a dead animal, twisting the blood laden katana from its bloated cadaver. scanning around the area, he saw nothing but barren wastes and swirling sands. "Tis a pity milord.." he gazes up to the sky, "after all these years, many things have changed.." he glanced down at the katana in his hands, which were shaking for the first time in years.. and he trudged on, his knightly garb soiled with desert sand and ichor. -------------------------- Message 130 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 20:38:15 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A putrid end to a slow day Smiling, Rathe looked out the window of the espada, his thoughts drifting to Menroth's baby-arm necklace. Rather fashionable, really. Two chubby little arms in between what were apparently Devon's teeth.. The arms were his child's. Whistling a happy tune, Rathe ordered another drink from Sanchez, and wondered if he could destroy someone's marriage today, bringing copious amounts of pain and suffering into thier lives. Boy, that'd be fun. doobie doobie do... -------------------------- Message 131 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 22:43:26 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: OOC Warning :) The upcoming post from me is pretty long, but I hope at least some of you dig it.. and Yjezra insisted I post, so poke her if you need to poke someone for it.. just thought I'd warn yas. :) -Your friendly neighborhood Etra -------------------------- Message 132 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 22:47:08 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The coming of Dragonkind "Now Luthe, you know this story already.. but I've got to practice my duty as DragonBard.." Ylaerin smiled at her BondMate as he nodded eagerly.. he could listen to Bryzzlok's stories any number of times, and since this was Etra's version he was twice as excited. She readied her harp, and began to sing... In the days of the past, In the days after dark, Dragonkind was called back here, and look round about them. The world had been rent Yet their numbers were stronger; In need of an Aeyrie, in search of a mountain. They stepped into the sun And their glory was great - Bright gleaming scales and soft shining wings. Jewled eyes were flashing In the light of the morning With the glowing green glint curiosity brings. They said to their Friends, 'We must have a new home. A place made for us, for our kind and our kind.' And their Friends smiled warmly And went to their Bondmates, Hopped dragonback, and launched to the sky. They came from afar and they came through the sky, And they came to the mountain with power inside. They built up their home and they built up their lives, And they handed it down, that their race might survive. Spread in the distance Surrounded by valleys, The great towering peaks of Morlith grew near. The caverns were warm And the view was inspiring, But much more that just that lay calling them there. Within sang the powe Of the element belonging To Dragons and Riders; the magic was strong. And so here they settled And here lies the Sarkus, And we have held Morlith for ages gone long. Their leaders, Ysamytha And obsidian Krzyrlath, Were fine and noble, true and brave. And then a great battle, With one of great evil... Krzyrlath had fallen and could not be saved. Ysamytha fell >From her mind with wild greif, For the breaking of Bond causes madness in all. And after attempts On her own valiant life, She tumbled down sleeping in the great sarkus hall. Days drifted by With nights in their wake, And finally the leader awoke and arose. Named Samytha now, And with news of great powers, She told to her friends what the dream-voice had spoken Samytha carried the Talent of magery. With the Sarkus to draw from, now she could serve. She learned to preform The ritual SoulBond, And to guide the Mount's denizens as they deserved. And thus came the Dragons And Riders to Morlith. And thus came the leader, the First DragonMage. And so have we all Carried on, ever forward, >From those distant new times to our own present age. They came from afar, and they came through the sky, On bright brilliant wings and with bright brilliant eyes. They came on a search and they made this a Home, And from that day to this, no Dragon has roamed. They came from afar, and they came through the sky, And they came to the mountain with power inside. They built up their Home, and they built up their lives, And they handed it down, that their race might survive. (OOC: Thanks for listening. All remarks {good remarks, that is} are welcome.. please page! - jess) -------------------------- Message 133 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 22:50:10 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Lunacy Rathe cackled, peering down at the stone carving on his desk. It was of a short, fat little man, who had "sheathed the sword" in his own belly. Cackling maniacally, he recited, "If your nasty and you know it stab a friend.. If your nasty and you know it stab a friend, if your nasty and you know it and you really want to show it, if your nasty and you know it stab a friend" Doobie doobie do.. -------------------------- Message 134 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 19 22:52:03 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) And yes, for your information, I DO intend to write an odd paralell evilness post for every nice one sent! BLEAH! -------------------------- Message 135 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 20 00:00:57 1997 EDT From: Kynwal (#1610) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Final Gambit In the darkness three pairs of eyes glowed. It was good. -------------------------- Message 136 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jul 21 02:51:49 1997 EDT From: Lise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Lovers still Lise wandered aimlessly through the R/T complex. She for once in her many years was not studying the entirety of the place, taking each intricate detail in. Rather she was just wandering and thinking over how she felt within. Her mind was stuck between two. The one she loved through marriage and time, and the other whom she loved for reasons she could not entirely express. Both held ways about them that made simple answers impossible. There was her husband, the one her heart was bonded with in fullness. And there was Byron, one she had found a bond in a completely different manner. A bond to her soul. Neither she found could be set free, and although her times with Nigel had been struggling, and she had sought solace within the bounty of Byron's comforts, she could not consider leaving her husband. Her entire form had grown restless, as it had with any one she had stayed with for long times. Still accostomed to moving to search as the eyes of the Fates that had commanded her before, her form sought newness and change. Both a freedom from this place, and from her current ties. It angered her that she had not escaped this upon freeing herself from the service of the Fates. It angered her still that she could make no decision. That she cared so greatly that she, Lise was unable to choose. So Lise wandered about, angered and frustrated. Was it her time to do as she had so many times before? Was it time again to leave? -------------------------- Message 137 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jul 21 07:33:06 1997 EDT From: Renna (#12014) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: No focus. Renna looked up at the candle on her desk. The flame had burned half of it away already and she still had not finished with her daily lessons. She dropped her pen onto the paper a moment and sighed, stretching her arms before exhaling softly in resignation. Her concentration had been awful lately, ever since that viewing of that horrible symbol on Mr. Deckard in the Lounge. She brushed dark curls from her forehead and smiled to herself, her mind again slipping away to thoughts of Gabriel, before she knew it, she was leaning on the desk with her chin propped in her hands, staring dreamily out the window for a full candlemark. She didn't even hear her brother walk in behind her, frowning at her slightly. "Sister are you... sister... Renna? RENNA?" Renna jumped, her head whirling around to glare at her brother, "You don't need to yell like that." Rand smirked with that absolutely infuriating arrogance that had become his trademark and leaned against the doorframe, "What has you so occupied, I have an easier time prying you from your books." Renna blushed as she realized she'd drifted off into another daydream and turned back to her desk, "Nothing, now go away, I have to get back to my work." Rand laughed, "Sure, sister. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were daydreaming about a man." Renna blushed a deeper shade of crimson and said nothing. Rand blinked, then narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, "Did I hit the nail on the head, sister? Is there a man in your life?" Renna sniffed her distain, "Brother, dear, you are being insufferable. Go play with your swords and let me get to work." Rand barked a laugh that grated on her nerves instantly, "I think I plucked a nerve. Who is he? Hmmm?" Renna glanced over her shoulder, her anger mixed with her embarassment, "Rand, you talk too much and you assume too much. Go away." He shrugged then and gave her a final wink before walking out, her fists clenched with hot chagrin and she grit her teeth in frustration. Brothers were absolutely insufferable creatures. -------------------------- Message 138 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jul 21 21:23:41 1997 EDT From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Khyber, Rand, Rathe, and Lise were ready for a fight, first the foul dragon rider spit on khyber, then led them on a wild goose chase, all armed, the little band went on a killing spree for this dragon rider, lusting after the blood of his dragon, little did they know, the morlith dragon was not a dragon at all, just an over large chicken. Drazathak soon told the bunch that a dragon flew to morlith...Khyber thought to himself, "There time will come..all of morlith shall rain blood soon enough.." -------------------------- Message 139 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jul 21 21:25:27 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: heh if there was loot, you wouldn't be tellin' us about it. -------------------------- Message 140 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 22 04:12:56 1997 EDT From: Komodo (#20141) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Rage and fury Komodo crouched at the heavy metal door, listening quietly to the shuffle of people outside. That bitch, Lise had trapped him in here and then called Dakirion. They were waiting outside now...fortifying their positions in the dark undertunnels of the R/T Building. Once more Komodo gazed slowly about the small crevice. His eyes flicked over the twisted mass of ruined metal that Lise had thought could cage him. "Folisssh human," he hissed, shambling over to the bloodstained bits of clothing that were left when Lise's corpse disolved into crystals. She had held him here long enough, and now he could either starve to death or be captured. He chuckled raspily and picked a tattered strand of flesh from between his teeth. He had had one good meal at least. Turning back to the door he snarled and bent down to resume his attentions at its lock. It was a slow process, but he nearly had it open...and once open? Outside, Dakirion waited. "Ssso be it," he hissed softly, "They will not get me without a fight." The small lock finally gave with a muted click. Komodo breathed deeply once, then lunged forwards, his titanic mass smashing the heavy metal door open as he lunged into the corridor beyond. Swinging his staff with bestial fury, he lept into the fray. -------------------------- Message 141 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 22 06:22:59 1997 EDT From: Yokuni (#20192) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: answers? Fujiwara Yokuni's eyes settle on the welcome white outline of the R/T complex. Thoughts of the things learned on his recent travels fill his head...How now, that he finaly returns to the place he feels to be his true home, will he act? He thinks back to that day (By the gods! only a month ago) that he left, everyone had begun to think of as friends seemed to have gone insane, death and war had broken out, even Osborne, normaly an island of stablity, had begun to carry a shotgun. So he left, grabbed his sleeping roll and prepared to return to his former life of wondering the waselands. Yet as walked, his thoughts kept returning to that place...answers presented themselves from the depths of his own mind, as if they had always been there. The people where like an organism, or a family, it was a society that he diden't understand. Thats why he never fit in, he had spent so much time learning from the outside that he never learned how to take part. If he where to just let go of his own fears, work past his reservations, perhaps even drop some of his thick personal defences, he might have a real family for once, perhaps a true friend. 'So this is it!' he tells himself. The vage outline of the R/T complex was now a real shape, slowly approching. 'I am good enough! I will approch the Tiger that my mind has put between me and Moralith and lay him low!' he repeated to himself. 'I shall become a Dragonrider as I have so often dreamed!' the opening of the R/T garage loomed before him like the mouth of that frightening tiger...he steps forth. Suddenly his bravado shatters! He feels instantly small and frightend, the halls of the R/T complex ring with silence. What has happend here.... -------------------------- Message 142 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Jul 22 17:42:38 1997 EDT From: Lise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Problems never leave.. Lise awoke, her entire body a combination of sore numbness. She could feel nothing below her waist but tingles. Tingles. Her bones, though healed from the Eagle after death still felt as if they were broken, and her entire body was devoid of liquid it seemed, for she could feel the parch of her throat continue on through her system. Lise dare not move, for fear of causing more pain to her aching system. She simply let her eyes wander round, taking in bits of the strange room she had wound up in. It was her own, she realized after some time. Nigel slept still beside her and she sighed silently. [ It is over now ] She thought to herself, smiling slightly. [ Perhaps all that has been done to me was well worth the pain. For he is no more. ] The last made her smile. If he had not been caught, then she feared her sanity . So much to go through... But she would not think that for now. In her min the mighty lizard was captured, locked behind walls that would keep him, awaiting reprogramming to change all that had gone wrong. There could be no other way, she thought to herself. [ If he was not caught ... ] She did not let her mind finish the thought. She let out a low soft moan, barely heard by her sleeping husband. If he only knew, that the hushed cry was really a loud frightened scream. A scream that rang through in her mind. -------------------------- Message 143 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 23 04:10:51 1997 EDT From: Melantha (#16526) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: From Frigid to Warm. Cool March winds scattered dead leaves across Melantha's path as she walked back to her tent in the N'Orleans cemetery. She stopped and sat down, gathering her cloak around her body as she gazed at the weeping willows as their bare branches danced in the wind. Her thoughts slipped back to Byron and how quickly she had come to trust him. Too quickly. She felt the old fears and doubts creeping back into her mind and sighed. But, she had trusted him enough to tell her tale to him. Something she'd told only one other person. If just being near him made her want to reveal that much of herself, there had to be a reason why. She wrapped the cloak around herself tighter and smiled, thinking of his arms around her in the library, gentle and warm, but not demanding. She vaguely wondered if this was love? Perhaps it was, but she had nothing to compare it to. -------------------------- Message 144 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 23 04:36:10 1997 EDT From: Dagger (#20375) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Austin His face sad. He cried. He blamed himself. He vowed to find out who did this. He would get the fucker who nuked Austin. Dagger wiped the few tears from his face. He tried to recall the people he met in Dakirion. He tried to recall the crazy ones. One who would nuke a whole city. Who would use his data, to destory a city. It was all his fault. -------------------------- Message 145 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 23 11:10:21 1997 EDT From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Weird feelings Kaitlyn sat on the bed in her room, holding the teddy bear Morrigan had given to her. Her thoughts went back to when she'd first met him. He was quite a memorable person, and even more so when you get to know him. Kaitlyn closed her bright emerald green eyes and smiled as she remembered when Morrigan showed her around his home. Kaitlyn's smile slowly faded as she opened her eyes, a dark green in color. Kaitlyn stood up from the bed and sighed as she tossed the bear onto the pillows. Kaitlyn sighed, "For someone that claimed love," she mumbled,"whatever that is, he's got a poor way of showing it." Kaitlyn reached down to hold the athame he had given to her to show her father. "I just don't get it, why would he just leave." Kaitlyn kneeled down and opened the Mahogany chest and placed the athame inside it. Kaitlyn went down the stairs and out the doors of DarkReach. Walking along the dunes she came upon the old keep Stryfe had taken her to. Kaitlyn could see the fresh footprints made upon the dusty floor and smiled knowing that Rand had been there. Kaitlyn walked into the building and sat down in the throne. "I'll just wait for Rand to come back." Softly she touched her lips remembering the quick kisses the warm hugs. "Whatever this feeling is, I like it." Falling asleep, Kaitlyn wondered what Rand has spoken to her father about. -------------------------- Message 146 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 04:27:02 1997 EDT From: Kzin (#5800) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Wander... Kzin settled into the cushions, slipping into a lotus-position, fingers resting against the stone before him, a water-quartz, eroded from the side of some mountain by the everchanging stream, and rounded by it's journey to the hands that found it, polished the scars and mars out of it's surface, and held it too loosely somewhere not quite safe, so that it's purity was marred by blood spilled. It had attracted his attention at a bazaar in Drach'nal." Eyes slipping closed, lids flicking slightly, then resting, his fingers caressed the blood-marred surface of the stone, and he tested it, letting the tiniest flows of his magic touch it, and with a slight start, he murmured "Blood of attacker and attacked , all the better for mine purposes..." Finding two focus points was harder, taking the better part of a hour's tensed probing, shifting fingers slightly and trying over and over. A final test, pouring more than the fingersbreadth's of magic required to find the points into it, marking the stone with two stains, where the focal energies resided, and edged towards thier limits, power more than he had ever held before now easy. Eyes open slowly, and a smile follows, one which barely ticks the corner of his mouth. "Aye. It will do most well." The blood-tainted, water-borne, mountain-birthed stone is replaced into it's niche, to wait the coming days, behind a glossy sheen of warding spells, hidden from normal eyes. Another slight smile, red and black flecks coming to life in his eyes "Yes....it is almost prepared for. Soon....to look upon those lands again. It calls me. I come." -------------------------- Message 147 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 07:05:49 1997 EDT From: Rand (#9865) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A lonely night, time for thought.... Rand awoke to the gentle sounds of the wind blowing through the old keep that he now called home. He reluctantly crawled out of bed and went downstairs to the abandoned throne room, muttering to himself, "Damn this place needs some work..." With a soft chuckle he all but ran down the ancient stone stairway. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stopped, his senses screaming at him that something was out of place. As he scaned the are he noticed new footprints in the dust covering the floor. With a flash of steel his Onyx longsword was in his hand, and his dagger in his other. Slowly he crept out into the central chamber and, after glancing around briefly, sighs. A broad smile comes across his face as he sheathes his sword and dagger, he says, "She came to see me....", slowly his face turns down in a frown, "And I slept through it....damn...Ah well, t'day is a new day, i'll wait for her..." Rand wandered around the old castle looking in all the rooms, searching for something to spruce up the throne room a bit, unfortunatly, he could find nothing. With a shrug, he decided it was time to go visit his sister. Rand arrived outside Renna's room not long after, and listened to the door, "Damn, she is still asleep...". With a childish grin, and a mischievious gleam in his dark eyes, he opens the door and creeps in, silent as a panther stalking its prey. He worked his way over to the bed, careful not to wake her, then, at the last instant, he screamed, "RENNA! WAKE UP!". This was of course answered with a startled cry from his sister, and a scream, "RAND! That just wasn't nice." Rand chuckled softly, and sat down on the bed, giving his sister a brief hug before talking and stumbling over his own tounge. "Renn! I can't believe it! I think she really likes me...She went to the keep I was telling you about, and she must have sat there while I was sleeping..." His eyes glowing with happiness as he retells the story of waking up and finding her foot prints. After seeing Renna smile, still half asleep, he sighed and asked, "Well? Aren't you going to tell me who your little man is?" He smirked as Renna started protesting, "Rand! There is no..." With a laugh he replies, "Sister, you never could lie to me..." Renna sat there for a minute, as stuborn as ever until Rand finally gave up and chuckled, "Fine, don't tell me, i'll find out myself!" He walked around the room for a few minutes and then hugged Renna, "Go back to bed sister, i've got some things that I must do...G'night Renn.." He slowly walked out the door, winking at Renna as he turned to close the door, "Sleep well sister, and you really should sleep a bit lighter." He dodged the pillow thrown at him and shut the door. Rand jogged swiftly out of the house, and made his way to the R/T building, unfortunately no one was around, so he decided to go over to DarkReach and read a book he had seen once in the library there. The book was interesting, although, not quite as good as he had hoped. With a sigh, he closed the book and put it back on the shelf. Quietly he walked down the hall and paused outside of Kaitlyn's chambers, listening, hopeing she would be awake, but, she was not. With a resigned sigh, he walked down the stairs and back out into the wastes, headed once again for the keep he had now claimed for his own, muttering, "Time for some spring cleaning, me thinks..." -------------------------- Message 148 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 08:17:14 1997 EDT From: Morrigan (#10469) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Across the Great Divide.. >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< Standing in naught but a loincloth and sandals, Morrigan stood statue-still, breath held as his heart pounded a furious rthythm in his chest. His eyes scanned the undergrowth before him, his arm poised with matte black spear in hand, waiting.... A sound further up, a thrashing, then a distant cry...the boar broke from the undergrowth at a furious pace, snorting as it bore down upon the ancient Mage, intent upon crushing away his life. Emitting a guttural growl, The Morrigan charged, chaos coalescing into a primal cry of defiance...the spear dropped, dipped...as Faery and animal slammed into each other headlong. The Morrigan struggled a bit, crawling from underneath its bristly mass. A voice spoke nearby, "Well done, though you certainly did indeed give me a scare Morgann...do you always do things in such dangerous fashion?" With the tang of salt heavy in the air, The Morrigan turned, noticing for the first time as he did the profusion of blood covering his naked chest, arms and legs, then chuckled a response. "Aye...you could say that Chesslyn...aye. Surely you dinna fear for me lass, did you?" >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< "What if I did? Besides, it's no matter anyway, word is you're already taken...no sense in following a path to heartbreak...", came the reply. >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< The Morrigan felt strangely giddy...a feeling apart from the euphoria of killing the boar. Hearing a faint >caw< The Morrigan looked skyward, squinting as the familiar form of Macha came into view. Soundlessly, Chesslyn threw a leather wrap to The Morrigan, who caught it deftly in the air, wrapping it around his shoulder as Macha came to alight. "Tis most odd...", The Morrigan mused aloud, "...Macha dinna usually come to me with such urgency." >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< The Morrigan closed his eyes, shifting his awareness, ancient gift of the Fianna, the warrior-shamans of his raising. >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< Images....storming, crashing into his consciousness like breakers at high tide....a child's teddy bear...a faraway Magus...blasted wasteland...a dark throne with a tender form that slept softly...a pentacle in chains floating on a sea of silver...a split-bladed athame...unconditional and complete love... >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< The Morrigan staggered; instantly Chesslyn was at his side, steadying the Celtic Mage, arm wrapped around his waist. "Morgann...what's wrong? You look as if you've seen a Coblyneau!" >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< The Morrigan opened his eyes, unclenching his left fist as his eyes gazed down at the palm...gazed at the scar of the pentacle surrounded by chains which flared once, brightly before fading away, leaving perfect skin. >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< Closing his eyes again, the ancient Mage called upon the land around him...a soundless cry of aid, a call for strength and compassion. His cry was answered in the ancient response. From the woodlands around him emerged a red stag, horns tall and proud, a red fox, sharp and cunning, a timber wolf, predator and Alpha, A black bear, strength and perseverance. Each took a quarter, forming a equal-armed cross around him, each gazing quietly, unperturbed by the others so close by. The Morrigan gazed at each in turn, each giving unspoken acceptance, then vanishing into the forest as he did. >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< "Chesslyn...I must go...I must go home...", he murmured. He looked down to see her, quiet confusion running rampant in her features, but she nodded her assent, making sure he was stable as she stepped away from him. He continued, saying simply, "The Daione has called...it's time for me to return." >>>Heartbeat...a slow, pounding drone...inexorable, throbbing...<<< The Morrigan shook his head mutely, stepping back, Macha rustling Her wings as he did. He turned to look at his familiar, and there looking back at him were not the black pools, the eyes of Macha, but gazing from the Crow's prenatural form were shimmering green eyes...the shimmering green eyes of Morrigu. -------------------------- Message 149 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 09:23:56 1997 EDT From: Melantha (#16526) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Fumbling Towards Ecstasy. Melantha awoke to find Byron's arms around her, holding her against him. She blinked and for a moment fought to fight down the panic that grabbed her out of nowhere. Where was she, who was with her... how did she get here... She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down, then opened her eyes and looked around. This was her new room. Byron was with her and she'd just moved in the night before, with his help. That answered all her immediate questions adequetely. She turn her head slightly to gaze at the man behind her, careful not to wake him. His eyelids remained closed and his breathing even. She felt the rise and fall of his chest against her back and a moment of pure wonder struck her. Was this what love was? To wake up beside someone and just stare at them with that odd sense of familiarity? She dropped her head back to the pillow and felt his arms draw her against him tighter as he stirred, then fell still again. She smiled and closed her eyes slowly, letting sleep retake her. -------------------------- Message 150 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 09:41:50 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Upon the rooftop the magister sits.. A chilling wind blew over the rooftop of the Spellsinger hall, causing Akane to wrap the cloak around him tighter, his eyes gazing upon the moonlit sky.. the starlit vastness. His hands trembled as he began a small incantation, draw moisture and heat from the air was he wove it into a small cloud, not much bigger than himself. The cloud shimmered the faded, only to shimmer again as his focus waned. He stopped the incantation, grumbling as the cloud faded into evaporation. He sighed, sitting back on the roof of the hall, and read the book of the Spellsong, his bloodshot eyes gazing over the worn pages.. [Later on that evening].. Akane rested comfortably in the great hall of the Spellsinger Guild, fingers drumming on the large table as he heard a loud *THOOM* on the front door. It came again, *THOOM*.. *THOOM*.. and the doors creaked and splintered. "Shit.." was all he could say before a creature burst into the hall, slamming a crazy left paw into Akane's face. With a stagger, he fell into a crumpled heap, and could only watch as the creature tore flesh from bone, saving his head for last. With a shrill scream like that of an eagle he awoke, his pillow drenched in sweat. His hands were trembling violently as he sought to regain his composure.. [What do these dreams mean?] his inner voice thought. [Why are they so reminiscent of death?] he sighed, reaching for his glass of warm tea and sipping it slowly, relaxing slightly. With a crash the glass of tea fell from his hands and splintered glass shards onto the floor. "Forget that" he mumbled, sliding back into bed beside Taisia, drifting into a sleep which would probably be the same as the last. -------------------------- Message 151 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 10:29:41 1997 EDT From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Bone Weary Rippling fingers of sunlight creeped into the room, these first golden kisses of dawn. Axelle looked up from her work and bright emerald eyes stared out of the window at the world beyond her confines. The quill in her hand faltered then, its dark ink half-dry. Returning the writing utensil to its pot, she then organized the stack of notes before her. Her research was going well. Getting up from her desk, she stripped off her clothes slowly, muscles aching with fatigue. She crawled into bed then, beside her husband, seeking out his warmth and comfort. Deep down inside, she missed him terribly. This research was taking up entirely too much of her time. Lately, she had been sleeping through the days. Nights were spent at her desk, assimilating all she knew on Tantra. The archives awaited her knowledge. Axelle fell asleep then, just as the sunlight filled their bedroom. The sheafs of paper sat diligently on her desk, awaiting her next visit. She fell into a deep state of rapid eye movement, dreaming about the more carefree days she had left behind. -------------------------- Message 152 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 10:38:16 1997 EDT From: Winter (#8571) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Quest Winter paced about her room, swaths of violet chiffon billowing behind her. She stopped suddenly before her armoire and yanked its heavy doors open. Row upon row of skin stared back at her, the flesh rotting slowly. Some of the shells were of no use to her anymore, others far too deteriorated to wear effectively. A small sigh escaped her lips then. A new batch was what she needed. Or perhaps...none at all. It never occured to her that she could remain in her true form. The Master did not like her that way. Ironic how the skin of the old hag was in perfect condition. And no man would touch her when she looked like that. Slamming the armoire doors, she quickly fled, deciding that the answers to her worries were not of this world. Grabbing up her scythe, she made her way to the Unseelie Courts then, leaving the shells to rot and wither as they may. -------------------------- Message 153 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 16:57:47 1997 EDT From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: cat and mouse games Getting up from the throne, Kaitlyn stretched her arms over her head. Sighing she walked over the catwalk wondering where he could be. "I know he was here." Knowing it was time for the hunt Kaitlyn hurried off to the R/T building to find out who she would be teamed up with. "I hope it's with someone I know." Kaitlyn made it to the R/T just as the teams were being announced. Kaitlyn was put on team one and she smiled happily at Rathe. The search flew by rapidly. When it was all over, team one had won the search. Lightly Kaitlyn ran her fingers over the Staff of the Star that she had been given. "Ah something all my own. I can't wait to show Rand." Kaitlyn sighed, wondering if Rand would like it or not. Kaitlyn moved the staff around and a rainbow appeared in the room. "No he won't like it, there isn't a blade on it." In DarkReach, Kaitlyn paused outside Gabriel's door, listening carefully she couldn't hear a sound. She muttered quietly to herself, "he's always busy with his spells, he's going to get sick again." Quietly she entered her room and noticed the cloak at the end of her bed. She smiled closing her eyes thinking of the horseback ride Rand had taken her on. Her hand moved slowly down over her butt recalling the jolt of the horse as Rand let the stallion out into a full gallop. Walking over to the bed she picked up Rand's cloak. "MmmmMmm even smells like him." With a bright smile and a spring in her step, Kaitlyn left DarkReach in search of Rand, telling herself it was only because she wanted to give him back his cloak. -------------------------- Message 154 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 21:56:39 1997 EDT From: Komodo (#20141) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Reset Oswald glanced through the file again, then looked up at the man standing before his desk. Carefully he set the file on his desk and spoke, his voice precise but with a tremor of something buried. "This report is accurate? The subject took out how many men?" "Almost two full teams, sir. We were lucky that they both chose to respond to the call. A single team would have been overwhelmed." Oswald tapped the folder on the desk. "Good work...who built it again?" "T'Kala, sir." Oswald grimaced slightly and nodded. "No escape either...just a berserk." "Its owners have already sent in a request for it back. T'Kala's wife was the...ah..victim. We believe it was tampered with." Oswald nodded slowly. "Very well...wipe all memories dealing with T'Kala or his family." He flipped through the folder idly. "It cleared the Moreau test, so send it back after it has been reconditioned." "Yes sir." Oswald leaned back in his chair as the young functionary left his office. "T'Kala," he murmured to himself. -------------------------- Message 155 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 24 22:12:57 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Preperation Touching the paving stones, Rathe murmered an incantation under his breath. Red runes flared into view, and he could clearly detect the work of Coreen and Akane beneath those. Each mage had reinforced the work of the previous under Rathe's direction, Kzin's the most recent. Rathe studied the enchantments for a moment, and nodded to himself. These would do. Green energy flared amongst the red, meshing with the work of the others, and casting a sickly glow upon Rathe's features. After several moments, he rose and studied his work. It would have to do. Silently raising the hood of his robe, Rathe rose from the pavement and stepped back into his home, slamming the door behind him. A week remained, and there was much still to be done. -------------------------- Message 156 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 25 03:47:03 1997 EDT From: Kzin (#5800) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Haw! Kzin laughed maniacally as he sent the shards slashing through the kidnapped wolf spider's form, his face hidden by a dark cloak "I hope your master feels every pain I've inflicted on you, as I burned your hair off, broke every one of your nasty spindly little legs, and seared your beady little faceted eyes away with fires! He smiled as the corpse dissolved into nothingness, and spit upon the last splotches upon his floor, then magicked the stains away, sitting back, satisfied, having sent enough power through the spider to backlash into the soulbond, and a definite message as well, along with the pain. "Stupid spider. Try to bite -me- will it...them and thier chittering, thier mandibles, crawling all over you while you sleep..damned things..." A almost satisfied sigh, and he stood again, looking for something new to engage in.. -------------------------- Message 157 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 26 04:07:58 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: OOC Post I'd just like to point out, due to the paranoia that seems to be popping up, that Rathe will not kill any dragons in the near future, unless one attacks him without provocation.. Maybe maul one or two, but not kill. This has been an OOC post. Had it been an IC post, you would be reveling in the poetic mastery of my writing. Thank you. -------------------------- Message 158 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 26 15:31:10 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Akane sat on the barstool inside the spellsingers Common Room, flipping through an old book written in an ancient japanese language. He rubbed at his weary eyes, gathering all the information he could from the tattered pages. He reached for his steaming cup of herbal tea, sipping it slowly as he read line upon line of paragraphs. (Damn, if I don't stop trying so hard to learn so much from this book, i'll go nuts..) he set his tea down and closed the book, swiveling around to gaze into the hearth's fire, "how strange one thing can be when influenced by another.." he muttered a quick incantation, streams of water streaming from his fingertips to extinguish the flame of the hearth. He hopped from the barstool, wondering who would come to him today and ask for apprenticeship.. "mayhaps noone.." he sighed, "My reputation is little compared to others, such as Kzin and Rathe.. they can teach more and better than I could.." he glanced around the empty room, the glasses behind the bar shining with the light of the torches, "perhaps people are right.. perhaps I am but a simple mage.." he turned away from the fire, and walked downstairs into the great hall, and sat in a chair, gazing at the picture of the mage on the wall. -------------------------- Message 159 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 26 17:04:48 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Absolut Power A man clad in black robes slowly made is way down the street, his stance relaxed to the point of arrogance. He seemed unaffected by the heat, the spring warmth either not affecting him, or not drawing his notice. He raised his head to study his surroundings, the shops, the early morning light reflecting oddly off of his eyes. The black robed man began to mutter to himself as he studied the village, his words spiced colorfully with some rather imaginative curses. Some who walked by simply eyed him, others skirted around to avoid him as much as possible. "Idiots.." he murmured, addressing both the villagers and those who had wanted to accompany him this day. "Wanted to come along for the bloodshed, but where are they now? At home, sleeping, no doubt..Or recovering from hangovers." He spit. "I'll do it on my bloody own." Energy began to gather around the black-robed man, crackling in the air with its dark taint. The mage tossed back the hood of the robe, and rose both hands skyward, the paving stones erupting in a shower of stone and dirt around him. With a snarl, he thrust one hand downwards, a blast of black energy striking into the dirt, and raising into a bar perhaps seven feet high. A black pennant unfurled from its end, revealing an intricate sigil: A serpent wound about a golden apple at the center of a trigram, which was in turn within a circle. A rune was inscribed at each point of the trigram, and the whole glowed red on its black background. The villagers stared, openmouthed, at the sight before them. Most unarmed, unable to protect themselves, they simply watched the mage, not knowing what to do. The mage smiled, and kicked a fragment of paving stone away from him, taking in the few villagers standing about him. "Citizens of Drach'Nal..." he began. "Today is a day few of you will likely forget.. It will mark a turning point in your lives -- all your lives, for better or for worse." He glanced up at the pennant, which now flapped in the stirring breeze. "Your village has never had a lord.. You will find things different, but perhaps not unpleasantly so. Your village council will remain, but I will place one of my associates within it, to ensure fair rulings in village matters. I will not charge taxes, but I -willl- expect some respect for both myself and those I place in office to keep this place in line. Future announcements will be made.. You can expect to see them posted on the green's message board." "Any objections?" He asked, answered by snickers from one of the nearby men. He stood at perhaps six feet in height, wearing a simple gray tunic and trousers. The mage's eyes narrowed. "I am amusing, to you? You find me funny?" The mage laughed as well, nodding and smiling. "I've a sense of humor.. Really." His face went dead expressionless again, and he pointed at the man, a bolt of black energy springing from his fingertips to strike the no-longer laughing man in the gut. The man's eyes widened his hands going to his middle, where black flame had scorched his flesh. Blackness crept outwards from the hole, enveloping his body. The man opened his mouth in a silent scream before dropping to the ground, his body writhing in its death throes, the stench of decay already emanating from his vicinity. The black-clad mage smiled again, hardly a warming sight. "No.. I didn't think there would be any." The villagers continued to stare, many shifting uneasily, casting an occasional glance at the rotted corpse on the ground. The mage bowed once, and the crackling energy surrounding him raced inwards, his body disappearing amidst black lightning. Studying the amassed villagers, Rathe chuckled quietly, glancing upwards towards the nearby Morlith, then back south, towards his home. Slipping past the still-gaping locals, the now invisible mage smiled to himself, shaking his head in amusement. "Morlith.." he muttered, "Embryon was the least of your worries." -------------------------- Message 160 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 26 18:21:00 1997 EDT From: Pyro (#13858) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Note Found on RT TO: All Kids with magic abilities and disturbed realities. Young disturbed Mages are being offered to join the Burning Sheep. A Club House for pyschotic Kid Mages. It is located in the Old Pawn Shop and no adults are allowed. INquiries are to be sent to Psycho, Matimeo or Pyro. Our prime Goal is to be noticed and cause mischief. -------------------------- Message 161 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 26 18:27:07 1997 EDT From: Hasai (#5707) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Jizo He began to wander the island......the last weakness of sleep driven away by his hiking through the forst, towards Shizuka, the white of his robes hardly touched by the dirt. He smiled to himself as the house came in view, and he entered through the garden -------------------------- Message 162 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Jul 26 18:54:24 1997 EDT From: Menroth (#14123) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The burning sheep is really burning today.. Menroth and Rathe entered the room to this so called club and looked around, The saw some naked chick lying on the floor a beer keg, a bird cage etc. They splashed the beer around the walls, on the nekkid chick, And then made a line of it to the door, Menroth lit a match on his boot and grinned sadistically, dropped the match and exited the room along with Rathe, They heard screams of the girl roasting alive in the fire, and also a male voice. They shrugged and left, bored still.. -------------------------- Message 163 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 27 06:25:51 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: But I _want_ to be a negative, emotionless bastard ... Rathe muttered, and snatched the dice off his desk again, tossing them against a corner piled with books. For the sixth time in a row, they came up snake eyes. "My luck.." he muttered, "Is amazingly poor" His day had been rather pleasant following the takeover, really. Coreen seemed to have stopped trying to balk him (he wasn't running, really.. He was simply walking quickly.. in the opposite direction), he had made substantial progress in his study of a possible defiler ritual, and just a few moments ago, he had finished tormenting some hapless person in the streets.. Damien was right--feeding off pain and fear was rather relaxing, and took his mind off the matter of Kaitlyn quite nicely. "Kaitlyn," he muttered, studying the snakeye'd dice. Perhaps he could just kill her. It would likely bring him quite a bit of enjoyment, and at least then the girl would hate him. His worries would be over with.. He was familiar with hate. Rising from his chair, he walked to the window and pushed aside one of the heavy curtains, staring through the curved glass window towards the mountains rising from the forest of darkness which spread out on all sides. The moon offered but a little light as his eyes were instantly drawn to Morlith. To the dragons who had begun it all, to the home of the first woman he had been foolish enough to involve himself with. Perhaps, with some luck, she would be the last as well. Perhaps. "Cursed human body.. Why couldn't I just have been born a god, as is right?," Rathe muttered. -------------------------- Message 164 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jul 28 19:56:41 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Tacked to the wall in the R/T Lounge, and on the bulletin board in Drach'nal: Wanted: Lord Rathe of Drach'Nal currently seeks a court bard. Applicants need be adept at some form of insturment, and have some knowledge of ancient lore. Skill with juggling and/or knives will be given special consideration. Male and Female applicants will both be considered. Contact via Comm or messenger; wages will be discussed during interviews. (Intricate Sigil) Lord Rathe, Necromancer of the Second Circle -------------------------- Message 166 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 30 05:53:46 1997 EDT From: Rayne (#20305) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Guardian Angel... She hadn't expected the day to come out like this at all. It began as every day had, cleaning the small flat, perfecting her 'wifely' skills; brewing tea from fresh leaves, practicing her singing and needlepoint - she was now fully certain she had embroidered every plain bit of fabric in the room - and debating how she would solve her dilemma. The dilemma, of course, being that of dragons. No one believed her, of course, but that was indeed irrelevant. She knew what she needed, though until night had come, she didn't expect she would find it so soon. She had found him to be a kindly sort, despite his 'oddities'. He was one of the few people who hadn't treated her like a child, or seem to be overtly cruel to her in any mocking way. When he asked her, her first reaction was utter shock, and then hearty agreement. In a rush, she darted home and grabbed the dusty (once) white dress she had been saving, and tugged it over her head - noticing, all too quickly, that she had grown since age thirteen when it had been made for her. When he commented, though in a kind way, that that one probably wouldn't work, they rushed out to what a quick kick to the door became an all-night dress shoppe in New Orleans. They were quite fortunate to find, that though the dressmaker had seemingly vanished altogether of late, some of her garments remained, including a grand gown of ivory and seafoam green. (They had little need of the matching bridesmaid's regalia.) The current resident of the shoppe was more than happy to hand over the dress in exchange for a promise that they would never again cross her doorway. Following him trustingly, they made their way to a small tavern room, and were greeted by the unsavory banter of two foul-mouthed and well into their cups mech pilots, arguing tactics. The couple at the bar barely turned to look at them, seemingly too engrossed in esoteric lore to notice. A red haired woman beat a drum, sitting on a table, and humming to herself absently. After quick words by her new companion, the dignified looking older gentleman in the odd looking robes nodded, and agreed to the necessaries. Everything from that point seemed to happen ever so quickly, until the woman with the snake insisted on a momentary pause to duck out to Metarie to gather up flowers. Though barely intelligible, the red-haired girl had a decent singing voice, and by the time the wilting blooms arrived, even the mech pilots were silent, staring at the collection of people in the bar, at each other, and back at the people in the bar before ordering several successive rounds of something very stong. Things proceeded normally, to their expected conclusions, until the eldery robed gentleman strode back to the bar, chuckling to himself in a way that made her nervous. On the way home to Jizo in the warm cabin of the Banzai, her only comment, still in shock after a long and busy day, was something to the order of, "Well, at least I won't have to worry about the dragons any longer... " -------------------------- Message 167 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 30 10:34:51 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: bonding It happened so quickly, that Jaelene wasn't even sure it happened at all. Toraxyn hadn't been feeling well and so they went to the lounge to relax and be social. It wasn't more than a minute they got there that Toraxyn pulled Kzin aside and asked to speak to him. Jaelene watched silently from the hearth wondering what it was they were talking about. Frustrated she looked at Toraxyn and said, "Care to tell me too?" Kzin motioned Jaelene over and explained to her what Toraxyn was asking. Jaelene thought over a poem she had started... How do I mend a heart so torn or help a soul again be born Do I go back to how things were and feel the pain I had to endure You found me when I was all alone not even a place to call my own You showed me love and how to care you gave me peace when you were there My friend, my love, my joy in life one day you asked me to share your life I thought of you and all that meant, my heart seemed broken, totally spent Can I be the woman that I once was could I laugh and cry the way she does If I take a chance and start to care I know, I hope, I pray you're there. Kzin soul-bonded Jaelene and Toraxyn. Jaelene thought to herself, "Never will I be alone again. Toraxyn just smiled at her as he held her, knowing exactly what she was thinking. -------------------------- Message 170 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Jul 30 13:39:48 1997 EDT From: Raelan (#20231) To: *Storylines (#5236) Raelan stood upon the ledge of morlith, staring down the cliffside. His body was not tense, yet he wasn't relaxed, his knuckles white as he gripped the katana in his hand with an anger. [How dare a fool take away the Lady Brinn..] was his thoughts as he looked down at the katana, trailing a gauntlet covered finger along the edge of the chipped blade, "Soon young kidnapper, your head will be my trophy." he murmured, sliding the katana back into it's sheath, and turning on a heel, walking towards the garden, his anger kept inside him, boiling and churning, awaiting the day he met the lad whose head would be placed neatly and cleanly on a pole and left for the vultures to feast upon. "Your time will come young sir.." was his only sentence as he divulged himself in some ale. -------------------------- Message 171 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 31 23:02:34 1997 EDT From: Rand (#9865) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dishonor, betrayal... Rand awakened in his small house, staring around the room, eyes wide with pain and fear. He had been in the Midrealm for the second time since returning to this god forsaken plane. He can remember clearly the events that led him to the midrealm. He remembered his one time friend Rathe, standing by, not saying or doing a thing. He remembered Khyber, also once known as a fried, dishonor him by having another attack, and then when Rand tried to fight back, Khyber knocked him out. At this last thought, Rand shuddered. He looked around, pain in his eyes, noticing that his blade was gone. He cursed venemently, "Thief..." He lay back on the floor of his house, tears rolling down his cheeks, "I am nothing...they have destroyed what I was, and will be..." He slept after that, briefly, but woke up and started working on his house, all of his weapons he set in a large chest, telling himself that he would not look upon them again. The days went by swiftly after that, every night he dreamed of the midrealm, and final death. He would awaken in a cold sweat, his bed soaked. Taking a shuddering breath, he would climb out of bed, and stare at chest that held his weapons, wanting to take them up again, but he resisted the urge and would continue working on his small house. He often thought of Kaitlyn, and how he would miss her smile, and wondered if she would miss him. Though he knew that he couldn't face her ever again, not after the way he dishonored himself. He was foolish for not fighting back. Rand lay in bed one night, the Ring of Lesser Sorrows clutched firmly in his hands, a memory of Kaitlyn flashing before his eyes. He muttered biteryly to himself, "I don't know why i believed, she doesn't love me, she can't love me...not now, not after this dishonor...all because of him...Khyber, I will one day send him to his death..." Rand chuckled softly and sighed, "Not likely...As I'll not use my weapons again..." --------------------------