Message-Id: <199803291922.NAA14080@zoom.bga.com>
Date: Sun, 29 Mar 1998 13:22:06 -0400
From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" <someone@ghostwheel.mud.org>
To: quinn@netsville.com
Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 497 - 532 from *storylines (#5236)
Status: U

Message 497 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 20 12:26:23 1998 EST
From:     Styx (#1610)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  N'Orleans is Rising

Almost as if someone turned on a huge wet-dry vac N'Orleans is now no long er
flooded. There is still alot of damage of course. But you don't need a boat to
get around.

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


Message 498 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 20 20:28:20 1998 EST
From:     Brinn (#12457)
To:       *storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915)
Subject:  WHAT??!

Brinn woke, feeling a bit groggy as she swung her legs out of bed. She has
been feeling strange lately, tiring quickly small pains and aches around her
hips and loins. Standing, she shook her head to herself. Suddenly she was
doubled over and vomiting.
Her stomach empty and no longer rebelling, she staggered to the bathing room.
She called out to Freiga as she stripped, dropping her clothing as she walked
down the long hall, feeling sicker than she had ever felt before. Opening the
door and walking into the slightly steaming chamber, she was surprised to find
her mother in the water, Yjezra's eyes closed, jaws clenched and skin pale and
sweaty.
Brinn opened her mouth to speak, then turned, falling to her kness and
becoming violently sick once more. Freiga entered with some tea, giving it to
Yjezra as she looked at Brinn, concern written on her face and a now dawning
understanding.  Placing her hands on her hips, "Well, I KNOW who Lady Yjezra's
babe is fathered by, but YOU young lady!"  Freiga moved to help Brinn to
stand, turning her to the hot bath, "You tell me who the culprit is! He gonna
take care of this, you mark my words!" With that she turned and huffed out of
the bathing room, mumbling dire predictions to herself.
Yjezra and Brinn looked up at Freiga, shock on their faces.

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


Message 499 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 20 20:29:32 1998 EST
From:     Ybrielle (#4778)
To:       *DragonRiders (#5915) and *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Strange Days on Morlith.

Ybrielle woke up feeling vaguely disoriented that evening, faintly catching
the candy scent of wild violets in the room.  How odd, she thought, but
shrugged it off, guessing it to be the flowers from the garden... all the way
past the living caverns, all the way across the ledge... yeah, that's all it
was.  She glanced at her sleeping husband and rose from the bed, wrapping a
robe around her body.  It was then that she noticed the slight distension to
her belly.  With a frown she tried to think what might be the sudden cause of
it.  She had not been with Yraelan long enough for it to be a child, and had
been eating too well for it to be malnutrition.  Worry creased her brow, as it
might be something malignant instead...  she would need to speak with Yjezra,
soon.

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


Message 500 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 20 20:30:31 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Damnit.. You said that would be our litle secret, Brinn...


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


Message 501 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 20 21:27:01 1998 EST
From:     DragonBabe (#5288)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Well, you said you were 'Safe' cause you were an ELF! Well ElfBoy, you ain't!

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


Message 502 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 20 21:27:35 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Oh, wait.. yes, thats it. I'm really sterile.. Its...Lykaj's kid.

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


Message 503 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 21 00:42:47 1998 EST
From:     Yaislyn (#7750)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Something Frightful This Way Comes

She awoke that morning with an awful cramp in her belly. Nausea swept through
her like a giant wave that threatened to drown her. Rushing to the toilets,
she wretched violently, each lurch, a dry heave that shook her very being.
When it was finally over, she straightened and caught her reflection in the
mirror. Dark circles framed the undersides of her eyes and her golden flesh
seemed almost tinged with green. Stripping off her clothing in a mad rush, she
then examined her  body carefully, probing fingers noting each subtle change.
Alarms rang in her head. Her mind could not grasp the information it was
given. Disbelief filled her heart until it felt so heavy it would drop into
her belly. Yaislyn was pregnant again. She recognized it clearly.
And yet, she denied it vehemently. It had been well over a year since she'd
even been near a man.

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


Message 504 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 21 00:46:29 1998 EST
From:     Stryfe (#5113)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Unh.

Stryfe woke up in a cold sweat and rolled over just in time to empty the
contents of his stomach into the bucket by his bead. "Oh god. Not again..."
First the cramping. Now the sickness each morning. What the devil was going
on?!?! He slowly made his way over to a full-length mirror. Yes, he was
definitely putting on some weight. Strange.

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


Message 505 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 21 00:47:41 1998 EST
From:     Stryfe (#5113)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Previous

Then Stryfe woke up again. Shew! It was just a nightmare! How horrible indeed!

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


Message 506 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 21 01:27:39 1998 EST
From:     Kynwal (#20497)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Planes and Plans

Kynwal was tired. He had been going non-stop since returning from the Unseelie
courts a time ago. Researching dusty tomes. Reversing the water in N'Orleans.
Disaster after disaster. He slept only when it crept up on him despite his
better efforts to avoid it.
Finally. The way to go had been found. A way to stop this juxtaposition before
it became too late. Kynwal slammed the large tome, that was older then even he
was, shut with a dusty finality. Now, to find a group willing to undertake
what must be done.

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


Message 507 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 21 08:33:19 1998 EST
From:     Lykaj (#6068)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Uhhh

Lykaj lay comfortably back in his bed. He felt almost at peace as he drifted
off to sleep. Dreams filtered past his closed eyes, the kind of dreams you
want to remember when you wake up.
Until he heard the sound of retching.
His eyes snapped open, scanning the bedroom for the sound. He blinked once,
then twice. The sight took him by suprise, his stomach turned over quickly and
he began retching himself.
After a few moments of clearing his insides he looked back over and yelled.
"STryfe! What the hell are you doing in my bed!"
Stryfe turned and wiped the last of his own retching off his lips, "Relax.
It's just a dream. Yours or mine. Not exactly sure."
Lykaj let out a long sigh and lay back down again, "Well thats a relief."
Stryfe just shook his head, "What are worried about anyway. I'm the pregnant
one."
Lykaj bolted up again, "Dont look at me. It must be that pointy eared elf."
Stryfe growled out, "You DONT want to hear about that dream."
Lykaj just grumbled and lay back again, "Well..night STryfe."
"Sweet dreams Lykaj." Stryfe chuckled as he faded away.

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


Message 508 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 21 11:04:32 1998 EST
From:     Yalindra (#13170)
To:       *storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915)
Subject:  Musings

	Yalindra awoke from a dreamless sleep, feeling at once both
rested and extremely tired.... She had been feeling much like that of
late...things had become so strange. People everywhere were changing,
and she was not excluded; she had grown a tail, and her daughter had
aged about eight years overnight... Whenever she asked who and what
were responsible, she always got some incredibly complex mystical
explanation.... She really should have asked Devon to teach her
something about magic...she felt so lost whenever the subject came
up. No matter...she would just have to wait whatever it was out...
Sliding out of bed, Yalindra quickly winced as a shot of pain ran up
her back and hips. She reached behind her and pulled her tail out from
under her body. She muttered, "I slept on it again? Bah...stupid thing."
Her tail twitched back in silent response, and she felt the restoration
of blood flow as it moved. She started to stand again, and the same
pain flowed through her body. She sat back down, thinking, "Maybe it
isn't my tail?" Still lying back on the bed, her hand searched
sightlessly in the chest by her bed, digging out her silver mirror.
She glanced at her face, then her body in it...as her eyes moved down
to the area that gave her pain, they nearly doubled in size as shock
and surprise swept through her. She blinked, checked the mirror again,
then craned her neck and looked for herself. She now understood the
source of the pain - her swelled abdomen was stretching her night-
clothes to bursting, as if she were...with child?! This could not be...
there had been no other since Devon...no other who even came close
to her.... Her mind raced, desperately trying to find a solution, yet
found none. Letting out a ragged sigh, she muttered, "Magic.... If I
can't explain it, it has to be magic...is has to..."

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


Message 509 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 21 23:39:43 1998 EST
From:     Huntress (#23719)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  The time of a calling

 Huntress sat in the stagnant shaft. Her new lair was dark, damp and cold. The
rotting wood of the timber barely held back the crumbling dirt walls. Mold and
moss grew abundant in the darkest corners. The fluffy tuffs of the demon moss
looked monsterous in the phosphoresent light of the tiny fae plants who's
delicate stems are weighed heavy by the huge fan shaped flowers. The light
barely made visible the first new shoots of the rose bushes. The stems
appearing dead and dry. Even on a new sprout the deadly sharp thorns were
present. Huntress reached over to touch the longest of thorns. There werent as
many rose bushes here, but there would be. They grew where she was, overtaking
all but the smallest of areas for her.
'My garden' she thought.
'YOUR GARDEN IS DEAD' filled her head, blocking out any thought of what was.
'THAT LIFE IS DEAD'
  Huntress lowered her head to her knees, her small frame shuddering; letting
herself cry. With the last moment of sadness she stood, wiping at her eyes.
"That life is dead" she conceded softly.
Its time for the new one.."

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


Message 510 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 21 23:54:17 1998 EST
From:     Sorrow (#20478)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  ...

Sorrow awoke, from a deep sleep, screaming out in pain. Every joint in his
body ached, and his muscles burned like fire. "What the hell..." he muttered
to himself between clenched teeth. Sorrow curled into a ball, and his body
shook with renewed force. He swore his muscles must be stretching, pulling
tight. He looked into the small shard of reflective glass he found. He was
changing again, slowly, but the effects were noticable. He pulled his hood
over his head, and clenched his teeth again.
He screamed out once more, shattering the silence around him, before he fell
back to sleep.

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


Message 511 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 03:31:05 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Note nailed to the wall in the Real/Time lounge.

My dearest riders of Morlith..
I have shed blood in defense of your livelihoods.. I have respected yours when
given respect.. I have raised no hand against your kind without reason or just
cause. I have been willing to make my peace with Morlith.. Riders passing
through the Real/Time building have had nothing to fear.
After tonight, this may be changing.
By law of Drach'Nal and N'Orleans, I demand that the seeker, Abe, be delivered
into my hands on counts of treachery and treason. He is also harboring a
fugitive, Tadewi Mystique. Tadewi has recently had a psychotic breakdown, as
she has often had in the past, and has gone out of control. She has been
having dellusions, and her word should not be taken seriously. I ask that this
woman and her child, Ash, both also be delivered to me, unharmed.

Riders, we have enjoyed an usnteady truce. Need I mention the consequences of
total war?
I hope not.

Your friendly ally,
Adept Rathe Mystique, of Drach'Nal.

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


Message 512 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 04:47:15 1998 EST
From:     Abe (#21180)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  note pinned under Rathe's note in the R/T lounge....

uuh-huh,... psychotic episode? i saw you sic shadowhawk on your wife rathe, i
was there when you implied the health of her son, given those circumstances,
im not at all surprised of Lady Tadewi's actions, i was helping someone in
need, and guess what? I ENJOYED IT!!!


                    *on the bottom of the note is an insignia, a pentogram in
blue, with symbols of each element in the points, (any VERY powerful mages,
like around theseus's range, who see's this MIGHT think the symbol looks
familliar..)
                          *
    p.s. ,....  treachery and treason? what exacltly DID i do, besides take a
Lady where she requested of me? as to her word be taken seriosly, for the
short time i have known you, i would rather believe HER than you....
                                                -Finis
(ooc,  known you  should be 'known of you' )
(ooc, ooooo.. i think im gonna be in a wold of hurt.. better pack my
bandages...)

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


Message 513 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 08:03:54 1998 EST
From:     Lykaj (#6068)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Note under previous notes.

A note hastily written on a bar napkin.

I think I speak for all of us Dragon Riders. Rathe, piss off. We are not
scared of you. Bring it on baby. If you dare.

Signed, Yjezra

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


Message 514 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 13:13:33 1998 EST
From:     Tadewi (#16048)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Chases and Escapes.

Tadewi sat up in her bunk, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.
Her nightmares had been laden with visions of Rathe, furious and vengeful.
She glanced around, finding her son sleeping quietly beside her.  For the
first time she did not have to worry for him, Morlith's negation of magic
completely nullified the spell he had cast upon him ages ago.  She brushed the
hair from his face gently, then rose from her bunk.  There was much to be
done, she had to speak with the DragonMistress.  If she were ever to be truly
free, the spell on Ash had to be removed.

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


Message 515 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 14:15:49 1998 EST
From:     Reefer (#22411)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Yet another note in R/T (who has to clean these up anyway)

People of the R/T -
	I am currently undergoing an investigation to locate the whereabouts of
Osbornn the Bartender,  With the appearance of Chauncey and the transformation
of the once R/T Lounge, no one has been able to locate Osbornn, all clues and
ti[ps are welcome and apprexciated. Your Help is of Value

ps
Any calls leading to the location of Osbornn will be rewarded. Your name need
not be used and thee money will be dropped at a specific place, convenient for
you. (cheeesy crime stoppers)
Reefer P.I

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


Message 516 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 19:32:37 1998 EST
From:     Yitsune (#19242)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Changes

Yitsune woke up in her bed, on Morilth, yawning and streaching her arms out in
front of her.  As her arms came up in front of her, she blinked, looking at
them, wondering what happened while she was sleeping, because they were no
longer covered in fur as the rest of her was.  She quickly got up, and walked
over to the full length mirror that was in the corner of her cave.  She stared
into it, and her jaw dropped open as her eyes went wide.
She stared into the mirror, a totally uncommon face staring back at her, a
human face.  She reached out and touched the mirror, then brough her hands up,
feeling her face, feeling that she no longer had the long snout of a fox, but
the face of a human.  In the mirror, she could see that she had long hair, the
color that her fur used to be, and she still had her ears, as well as her
tail, and her paws looked the same, but everything else was so different.
She slowly reached down, and ran her paw over her body, slowly feeling the new
soft skin that covered her, so used to the feel of fur that the touch sent
shivers down her body, as well as the cold air that circulated around her now
furless body.
She smiled a little, and softly said, As beautiful a human as a fox... but
then frowned, wondering exactly how this had happened.  She quickly got
dressed and went out, to try and find exactly what had happened to her.

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


Message 517 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 20:01:33 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

A child's fingers and toes have been seen laying around drach'nal, in the
dust. Also, one arm was found nailed to the door of a cabin thought to be
owned by Lovinia and Baltisaar. Other children's appendages have been found at
various sites around the more popular hangouts.

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


Message 518 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 20:05:44 1998 EST
From:     Anubis (#22578)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Children parts

Anubis walks outside his lovely Drach'nal cottage. "Ahh," he says, "What a
beautiful day." Just then he see a little piece of flesh on the ground. He
sees that it is a childs finger. "Oh that silly Rathe," he chuckles, and looks
around. "My... there are f

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


Message 519 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 20:07:21 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  ooc

Oh, btw, the kid isn't dead. Its just laying on a funeral bier with all its
limbs hacked of.

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


Message 520 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 20:08:01 1998 EST
From:     Anubis (#22578)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  oops (continued)

ingers everywhere, Oh well... when is Rathe gonna give that BBQ he promised,"
and with that he jumped on a transport headed to the R/T building.

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


Message 521 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 22 22:33:01 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Rathe rubbed his chin, peering out of his tower's window. "No response,
yet..." he muttered, then shrugged, grinning. "Time for more fun with the
kid."
Five minutes of agonizing pain (for the child) and a few extremely drawn out
knife-swipes later, Rathe closed the door to his house, and headed for
Baltisaar's house, child's genitals in one hand, a nail and hammer in the
other. "Maybe this will get a response.. If not, I suppose Lovinia is just as
heartless as I am.. And here I thought druids were more..caring."

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


Message 522 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Feb 23 00:25:03 1998 EST
From:     Spiral (#20542)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Rumors...

Rumors began to circle the R/T complex about a host of peculiar, beastlike
creatures that were purchasing a store of arms.
An odd, tiger-taur fae seemed to do a number of the negotiations, though few
could rightly say if they had ever seen the creature before. The hovering
shadows of many odd shapes seemed to follow her, and a foul-smelling beast
sometimes seen about the pub followed close at her paws, one that seemed to
yowl the word 'Tuatha' every so often, and have long chats with Chauncey...

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


Message 523 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Feb 23 19:00:11 1998 EST
From:     Clayson (#17237)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Changing

Mona spit on the ground in disgust, the image of Rathe floated through her
mind, headless, speared with a thousand spikes. Holding her hand above her
eyes to shield the winter sun she gazed out over the desolate desert. She
spied a Tara mole wandering over the dunes. Moving quickly, she tracked the
mole, the hunt was on, the poor mole would be the victim of her frustration
and despair.

Rage boiled deep as she approached the mole, her body tense with hate. Closing
her eyes she concentrated on the headless image of Rathe, seemingly, time
slowed to a deaths heartbeat. Mona opened her eyes, her emotions pushed forth.
The pain came, she grabbed her head as a searing flash of agony filled her
skull. Time returned, the pain passed. Mona wiped the tears of anguish from
her eyes only to find the mole stunned, drooling at her feet.

Glancing down at her hands she realized no weapons were in her grasp. Amazed
she stumbled back, tripping, falling in to the sand. Scrambling to her feet
she cried out to her Gods, gibberish tumbled from her quivering lips, only to
be lost in the silence of the whispering winds.

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


Message 524 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Feb 23 20:38:15 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Rathe yawned, and tossed the child's second eyeball at a passing bird,
narrowly missing it. He would have to work on his aim.
"I wonder when I'll hear something from Lovinia...," he mused.

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


Message 525 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Tue Feb 24 11:08:33 1998 EST
From:     Irilynne (#22903)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Arrival

Irilynne had hoped that Sterno was right.  She hoped that the DragonRider
named Ybrielle would find her in the next few days. But she had hoped before.
And here is where it led her.

Still she had her little blessings. She was still alive after that angry man
had taken her Steno Pad and her only means of activating the transports. She
still had her life's ambition with her. But still she could not shake the
overwhelming feeling of dispair.

'How will I get back to the tent?' No other voice in her head answered. 'I
will wait until later in the evening, then many will be using the transports.
I can ride with someone,' she thought.  And with that, she went to the library
in the R/T building to read.

A few hours later, after reading something about the loss of technology after
the apocalypse, she decided to check on the transport situation. As she
reached the top of the R/T Building she saw two other people there and knew
she was in luck.

But suddenly she knew something was amiss. One of the people, a female, looked
as though she were about to cry, and the male accompanying her had a horrible
gleam in his eye. The male had said some things that made no sense to
Irilynne, then moved to the edge of the landing pad and looked as though he
were about to jump. Quickly, Irilynne raced over and jerked the man back from
the edge, a sick taunt his only thanks.
It was at that time that a beautiful dragon landed on the helipad. Irilynne
saw how the woman moved for the dragon as if to take flight. But the surprises
were not through, the elevator rose bringing the angry man from earlier in the
day to the rooftop. The angry man brandished a wicked looking blade and slowly
made for Irilynne. She backed up, waving her hands, and shaking her head
franticly, trying to make the man not come any closer. But she had no effect,
only the dragon gave the man pause.

Seeing her chance to get both of themselves out of situations that were very
stressing at the very least, Irilynne scrawled a quick note on her drawing pad
and showed it to the dragon.
The dragon eyed the note then picked up the woman in a flailing fit, and slung
her onto its back. Then Irilynne felt the gentle nudge of the dragon's snout
and the quick pull of the woman's strong arm bring her onto the dragon's back.
In an instant they were airborn, and Irilynne felt her stomach being left on
the helipad. They soared over the Wasteland toward a mountain; toward safety.

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


Message 526 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Tue Feb 24 21:26:24 1998 EST
From:     Lovinia (#10869)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Running out of Options.

She dripped the sealing wax onto the edges of the letter, sealing it with a
small stamp, showing the combined initials of a B and an L within the scrolled
C.
Picking up the letter, she looked toward the nursery, stiffening before the
tears could start again. Turning angrily she picked up the rough stone, light
from the windows causing it to glitter, and hid it away once more before
walking down the stairs.  She took up her staff and left her and Baltisaar's
home, seeking someone in the village to deliver her letter..her plea.

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


Message 527 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Wed Feb 25 12:07:07 1998 EST
From:     Zealot (#14400)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  The lighter side

Zealot leapt from the shuttle his crescent wrench glinting in the soft morning
light.   The sun was high and cheery in the bright blue sky filled with happy
fluffy white clouds. All the happy trees and the happy grass looked healthy
and vibrant. But something was miss. Something was not right in the land of
happy trees and happy clouds. Zealot scented the air, making sure of the winds
direction. "It is upwind from me," he said quietly. Not that it mattered since
the roaring of the shuttles engines reving up behind him could drown out an
elephant.
So he crept forth, moving like his old - well if you called remembering when
there were only them evil cainids around old - buddhist zen taoist master had
taught him. His teachers words came back to him now as he crept like a
paperweight being rolled over rice paper.
"Mind is like parachute. Neither work when not open."
How this would help now, Zealot was not sure, but he knew his master was
always right.
Blinking in surprise, he found himself almost stumbling onto his foe. There it
was in the clearing ahead of him. Looking quite innocent. But he was not
fooled. The things name was Karpov. Oh sure. It didn't look threatening at its
towering two foot height. More like a small friendly pooch or pet of little
Billy down the street. That was just an act.
For inside its pea-sized brain lived the mind of a dumb animal. Zealot saw it
was time to act. It was now or never. With a bloodcurdling cry of 'Can you
tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame street?!?" Zealot leapt at the
vicious predator. It was quick. Dodging out of reach of his crescent wrench
while it gnashed its horrible teeth and rolled its terrible eyes.
The fight was epic. Suffice to say, it lasted many days and nights. No quarter
was given or asked for. In the end, as in all good stories, the hero won.
Zealot touched the little corpse with his only unbroken finger having crawled
over on his ruined legs hours before. The thing called Karpov turned to dust.
Nothing left. Zealot let out an anguished cry as the sun dropped down behind
the trees.

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


Message 528 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Wed Feb 25 18:33:56 1998 EST
From:     Yjimael (#23078)
To:       *DragonRiders (#5915) and *storylines (#5236)

 The changeling mimicking Yjimael's form cast a fearful glance back over its
shoulder at Shadowhawk and Rathe, then turned to look up at Ysith with
pleading eyes. "Please, get me out of here, those two are going to hurt me..."
As Ysith agreed and the changeling mounted Ysith's dragonfriend, he couldn't
conceal a twisted grin and a wink back at Shadowhawk and Rathe. Finally, he
had tricked one of the fool Rider's into giving him access to the Mount, where
he hoped to find Brinn and pay her back tenfold for the pain she had caused
him. "Help Rathe gain the Mount...?" it thought to itself as the dragon raced
home. It laughed loudly into the rushing winds, "Yes, that will be fine...
after I've had my fun..." Arriving at the Mount, the changeling quickly
dismounted and headed for a dark corner of an empty cave, biding it's time..

 The real Yjimael spent his 14th birthday cold and alone, almost two years of
time already having passed while he was trapped in the Fae realms. He could
feel his mind slowly slipping away, the weakly felt soulbond to his
dragonfriend the only thing keeping his mind from shattering and his soul
pure. Blinking back tears, his thoughts focused on the place he had called
home and the family he had come to love. With a shake of his head he expelled
the painful thoughts of what he had once had, wrapping his arms around himself
tightly and drifting into an uneasy sleep.

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


Message 529 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Thu Feb 26 01:57:57 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Spring and flowers and happy sunny thoughts with falling rose petals and happy little fuzzy bunnies

A wash of power enveloped both Rathe and Kzin, deep within the heart of the
necropolis. The binding was complete, the curse both horrible and perfect.
Magicks of darkness and blood wound into a tiny golden cage.. A small object
that spoke of a dire promise, a bargain struck.

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


Message 530 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Thu Feb 26 02:16:19 1998 EST
From:     Abe (#21180)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  trapped....  

Abe paced up and down the ledge, in front of Morlith, already he can feel the
insubstantial 'tightening' the subtle tugging. He whirled, sliding his axe at
a dancing sprite, cleaving it in half.. "GODS BE DAMMED!!! no memory, and now
THIS!?!" he fumed. Abe turned a look down at the dim tattoo on his wrist, as
if it were alive, "And why didnt YOU do something, dammit! WHAT ARE YOU THERE
FOR ANYWYAS?!?!?"
He sighed and slumped his shoulders, going over his options, 1) live on
Morlith forever and make excuses as to not leaving, 2) get it over with so the
Thrice-DAMNED, ROUS-sucking worm of a mage can give his soul back, 3) or maybe
find another mage, just as powerful as Rathe, maybe even stronger...
Abe walked under the sarkus, feeling the ebb and flow of magic energies around
him that emenate from the structure. It used to make him feel good, now it
only saddened him, a constant reminder of his ,.. 'predicament'..
He muttered to himself, "I'll find a way, and I'll have my revenge too..".
Little did Abe notice, the tattoo on his left hand pulsed a bright blue as if
in answer, and died down again...
 'it's going to be REALLY painful, everytime i leave the mount,' he thought,
and slowly wandered the grounds, talking and cursing loudly to himself...

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


Message 531 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Thu Feb 26 10:44:13 1998 EST
From:     Ylaerin (#16541)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Ylaerin leaned somewhat precariously against the small table, peering at her
face in the looking-glass.  Her skin was fair, far more pale than usual, and
luminescent with a glow which could also be found in her eyes. She was bright
with fever, it seemed, and she could not remember a time when she had ever
been this way in the past.  She looked weary, her featured finely etched in
her ivory face, no trace even of the freckles she'd gained from her sunlit
rides with Luthe.
Horrible events, all of them, she thought wearily as she carefully made her
way back to bed. It wasn't as if she'd felt fine since waking up to discover
she was carrying yet another child those few weeks ago - a pregnancy which was
odd not merely in its occurence at all but in it's suddenly making itself so
obvious - but it didn't help to see the wretched scene on the R/T roof... to
face Rathe and completely lose her temper (and appear to have lost her senses
as well)... and now to be so ill.  She'd been able to take a few herbs and
bring the fever down a bit, but her blood still seemed to tingle in her body
and the world sparkled around her in a dizzying fashion..
But the thought of sparkling light brought forward perhaps the one truly good
thing this influx of strange magicks and times had brought with it: her
Syyrl... long dead... had been able to cross over. The barrier to the
OtherWorld was always thinner than folk cared to think on - but this magick
had seemed to provide a kind of bridge. She'd been haunted by his voice, his
scent, his faint touch for some time... but the other night he'd *been* here.
Physically. She smiled as she tried to make herself more comfortable, Luthe's
memory of the incident even clearer than her own, because she'd been so
dazzled.
He had said the best and kindest things to Yshar, he had kissed her - truly -
one last time. And she could so easily have followed him back, she'd felt that
when they touched; but there was no invitation, and only a small desire on the
part of either herself or Syyrl that she leave this plane behind.
One thing he could not bear to think of was her death... and now it seemed, at
times anyway, that ever since he'd appeared to her she'd been dancing
carelessly close to it. Taunting someone with Rathe's amount of hateful power
out in the poen - in front of his allies no less - and going so far as to
strike him? Now this sickness which seemed to dog her every step? Not to
mention, saying very foolish things to people - that she doubted Yshar's
fathering of the child she carreid (only, she told herself, because it was
such a strange pregnancy).. nearly as much admitting her lingering affection
for the Elf.
Strange days, these were... strange nights, as well. She dropped off into
sleep, trying to focus only on Luthe's comforting and worried thoughts; and
desperately trying to ignore the way the whole world - and her whole life,
perhaps - seemed to smoulder dangerously at its edges.

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


Message 532 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Thu Feb 26 13:27:28 1998 EST
From:     Lovinia (#10869)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  A Friends Help

She left her home, taking the paths as quickly as her reserves of strength
would allow, hoping that outside help was at the end of this taxing trip. Her
hand kept going to the chunk of quartz in her pocket, making sure it was still
there, her nerves on edge, each small sound of the forest more enemy to her
sanity than friend as it once was.
The shuttle trip took far longer than she ever remembered it and she worried
he would still be waiting. 'Gods he must think me on the edges of insanity..to
go on so about meeting someplace that maybe Rathe wouldn't look.'  She looked
out the window at the blur below and sighed, hugging her empty arms to
herself, closing her eyes tightly against the wash of sorrow.
When exits the transport and walked to the meeting place, she found it empty
and her heart spiraled down, hope lost when he stepped from the trees and
greeted her. Relief! 'Gaea give me the strength to finish this.' She explained
best she could, explaining that the quartz had been left in her care by Eldran
and tho not told what it was, told to hold it safely. Of what she had
overheard in the Lounge the night..'Must hold pain back...must stand strong..'
Antoine was taken from her arms by Julian, given to Rathe.
She placed the large chunk in her friends hands, folding his hands over it,
begging him for his help as she looked around fearfully. He reached out to
press her shoulder, telling her he had made sure the place was safe and she
saw the shock on his face as he felt her emaciated shoulder thru her robes. he
promiced to help, to find the other..the young mage that might help.
Thanking him, she returned home in a haze and exhausted, collapsed inside the
door of safety... home.

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