From quinn@fazigu.org Wed Oct 04 12:08:04 2000 Received: from (yami.57thstreet.com) [198.78.146.163] by requiem.netsville.com with esmtp (Exim 3.16 #1 (Debian)) id 13gr5Q-0003wi-00; Wed, 04 Oct 2000 12:08:04 -0400 Received: from moo.ghostmoo.org (localhost [127.0.0.1]) by yami.57thstreet.com (8.9.3/8.9.1) with SMTP id LAA10199 for ; Wed, 4 Oct 2000 11:13:53 -0500 (CDT) Message-Id: <200010041613.LAA10199@yami.57thstreet.com> Date: Wed, 4 Oct 2000 11:13:53 -0400 From: "Quinn@Ghostwheel" To: quinn@fazigu.org Subject: Ghostwheel Message(s) 18 - 39 from *storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: Ghostwheel (moo.ghostmoo.org 6969) Status: RO Content-Length: 24738 Lines: 512 Message 18 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 9 01:22:54 2000 EDT From: Devon (#23970) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: The reckoning. Devon stood impassively at the face of Cassiopeia, his eyes strained with anger and rage towards the adept. His life had been torn asunder by his own actions, how his very home was about to be lost to him. He paced about the cavern then went inside, whatever was to be done was not his own actions. Too many times had he acted in haste, and this time it fell upon the shoulders of another. He wished that for once that she could be depended upon to have the responsibility to save them all, but somehow he doubted that he would not be disappointed. -------------------------- Message 20 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Aug 10 10:36:32 2000 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *storylines (#5236) She did not sleep that night; she did not even seek sleep. After Lyr'tyzluthe winged off into the deepening spring night, Ylaerin went to her cavern and put her children into bed. Her face remained calm, smiling at her young ones and tucking them in, but the connection between the dragon and rider was alive with memories and argument. Once Rowan and Annie were settled in and sleeping quietly, Etra wandered out to the secluded walkway that overlooked the valley. As she leaned against the stone wall, looking down into the shadowy forest below, the memories came back stronger than ever. It was here, nearly six years ago now, that her husband had committed suicide. It was here, too, that months later she had thrown their wedding rings down into the valley. Here that, only months after arriving on Morlith, she had felt Syyrl's ghostly touch in the waking world. She would turn thirty-one in two days. Rowan and Annie had just turned nine and eight. So much of their lives lived in this place. Their family -- both the old and the new -- had been formed here. This was the only Home her children and BondMate knew, and the only Home that she herself could ever dream of living in again. By the time the sun was up, she had done with weeping. She had no more memories to sift through -- they were all in her heart, and she had seen them all clearly enough that night to make a choice. She felt clean, she felt strong -- well, strong enough, anyway. She knew, now, that this was what she had been brought here for. She smiled slightly and gave a nod to the Circles, to The Bard, in some otherwhere that she had not seen for years. If this was it, then she would do her duty. Perhaps Toraxyn had spoken truly for the first time in her experience of him. At any rate, he had commanded her to write a song. This she would not do. She knew the perfect tune already. -------------------------- Message 21 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 13 03:59:28 2000 EDT From: Floyd (#24923) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: a night with rathe Rathe says, "@naked_groin me is "Well, it would seem that by some strange twist of fate, you are looking at Rathe's penis. Either Rathe is drunk IRL, or you're somebody looting him. If the former, by all means, take advantage of him, if the latter, well, go stare at someone else's groin, you sick fuck. Thank you. --The Mngmnt"" -------------------------- Message 23 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 20 22:15:39 2000 EDT From: Ymerith (#22840) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: A homecoming of sorts The sound of the watchdragon's challenge broke the silence of the night like a thunderclap. The response was undteady at first, but after a moment the bellowing voice sounded more confident. The challenge was issued again as the intruder materialized near the ledge, a tone of disbelief and suspicion was immediately obvious. The dragons on the ledge raised their heads to peer into the darkness at the approaching shape, distinguishable now as a fair sized emerald dragon with a man on his back. After another unanswered challenge, the watch dragon coiled it's considerable obsidian body in preperation for flight. Half an instant before he would have leapt from the ledge, the watchdragon stopped at the voice of a sapphire dragon beside him, |Do you not recognize our brother, Megasa?| The emerald dragon descended to the ledge to be quickly surrounded by his family, looking for the sapphire that had identified him. This time it was the man whose mouth opened, "It is good to see you, Lyr'tyzluthe. Thank you for recognizing me....... US." then his eyes turned to look into those of his mount; Their minds seperated, after many years thinking as a single collective, their thoughts were those of individuals again. Once the rider was safely on the ground the emerald dragon sagged to the ground, exhausted. The assembled dragons began speaking to each other, most directed questions at the newly arrived emerald. Overwhelmed, Megasa and his rider turned as one to seek their sleeping cavern. It never occured to them to doubt it would be ready for them, it would always be their cavern. Megasa whuffled apologetically to his family, |Please, we shall answer all the questions in the morning, for now, we are exhausted and need rest.| The familiar sapphire crooned one last call at their backs, the rider took his turn to respond. "Thank you Luthe, and thank Ylaerin for us too. We do feel welcome." Other rumbles followed them but were unheeded as they stepped into the hallway and stumbled through the familiar curtain to Cavern Ursa Major. -------------------------- Message 24 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 23 21:35:48 2000 EDT From: Raichu (#3791) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Red Lions. The camp appeared almost overnight, tan colored tents attempting to blend in with the sands of the vast wasteland. Their only identifying mark lay in the rampant red lions emblazoned on them. Though many a traveller has reported the sight out there, none know exactly why the infamous mercenary company has paid a visit to the R/T Building. Their contracts tend to stick to the upper west coast, rarely ever wandering this far. One thing is for certain, they can't be here for anything good. -------------------------- Message 25 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 23 22:38:04 2000 EDT From: Ymerith (#22840) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Here's your hat, what's your hurry? Johnny thought for a moment before continuing his note, then wrote some more. "I've gone to investigate the Red Lions.". He checked his pack, made sure it was secured, "A `representative` was at the lounge last night to take away a young boy.". He slid his knives into their sheathes, a newly honed edge on each of them caught in the dim light before they slid home. "He was ushered away so fast he left his hat behind on the floor." He made sure the breach of his shotgun was clear and clean, then stripped it and gave it a thurough cleaning anyway, "The least I could do is make sure the kid gets his hat, right?" He made sure the action on his revolver was free and smooth before reloading it and sliding it into his hidden holster, "I've made arrangements to meet the soldier again tomorrow, if all goes well I should be in and out in time for dinner. But how often are things that simple?" He checked his face paint in the makeshift mirror, and finished the note, "Don't worry, Meg'll be with me in mind if not body, and things will be alright. Take it easy, and I'll be back soon." His name signed at the bottom, Johnny hid it away in a place where someone would find it sometime after he left tomorrow. For now though, he would sleep. He would try to sleep anyway, his body was tense, ready. How long had it been since he'd geared up for a mission? Too long, he told himself. -------------------------- Message 26 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 23 22:45:01 2000 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *storylines (#5236) She undid the latch on the aging chest with care, lifting the heavy mahoghany lid, listening for the sounds of her children in the next room. Through the heavy curtain came the muffled sound of their laughter, and Lyetra smiled. Today was the day. This was the time. The world around her was changing, but instead of the fear and trepidation she had shown to Toraxyn that night, she met the prospect now with calm and clarity. She knew. She had Seen. She felt it all clicking into place around her, and she would allow herself this selfishness on the brink of the coming era. She had earned this, and before she passed into that new life, she would bring this one full circle. She would put to right what Fate had muddled. She pulled it from the chest, and it glimmered softly in the torchlight. All of the work... all of the craft that she had had to learn and hone to make this one thing right. Here it was now, finished, and today... today was the day. She laid it on the bed, and called her son and daughter. There were a few things yet to be done. -------------------------- Message 27 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Aug 24 00:16:15 2000 EDT From: Rhea (#24572) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Failure Rhea sat in the tent, face twisted, too tormented even to swear as she mentally berated herself. 'Idiot! Trying to rescue Jenner? Yeah. So now you've managed to get yourself a sunburn, get yourself caught, have your wrists rubbed raw, and, best of all, make the kid's situation about ten times worse than it was! Smart move. Very smart move. What the hell are you trying to prove? That you're the stupidest imbecile to ever grace this planet?' The purple-haired, blue-skinned, green-eyed subbie closed her eyes and turned all her skills and energy to working on the knot. Kiva, please come soon... -------------------------- Message 28 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Aug 24 07:20:51 2000 EDT From: Jenner (#25107) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Objective Obtained. The fog of sleep released Jenner reluctantly. He blinked his good eye open, the other having swelled shut sometime last night after the first beating. The second had been far more violent, finally rendering him mercifully unconcious. His mouth was dry, and felt as if someone had shoved sand grains under his tongue. Sight finally adjusting, he realized it was daylight out, sometime past early morning. They'd left him tied to a pole in the center of camp, probably after a few more swift kicks to the gut from the feel of it. Rolling over, his entire body protested at once and he couldn't help but moan at the pain, nearly retching into the wasteland sands. He was not alone either. Twin sentries stood at their posts, obviously meant to make sure their 'objective' didn't somehow spontaeneously recover from his wounds, break his bonds and run away in the night. A third stood off to the side, keeping an eye on Rhea's tent. Or so he assumed, unless they moved the young submariner woman sometime after he conked out. Rhea. What in the world was she thinking to come out here by herself and attempt to rescue a nigh stranger? Having spent most of his life looking out for number one, the concept of selflessness, especially that kind of altruistic reaction, was alien, strange. The Red Lions weren't well known in this area either, which was why Jenner had run in this direction in the first place. He should have known better, really. No one deserts the Red Lions and lives to talk about it. No one. -------------------------- Message 29 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Aug 25 03:39:35 2000 EDT From: Fortitude (#24841) To: *storylines (#5236) There are rumours in the village of Drach'nal that a mysterious woman has been by the river. Speculations range from her being a homeless beggar to a supernatural being. So far, adventurers have been unable to determine which theory is correct. -------------------------- Message 30 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Aug 26 01:31:22 2000 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Posted on the R/T bulletin board, and the community board on Morlith, is the following note, written in a trained and delicate hand and sealed with the blue wax and harp & dragon insignia belonging to Morlith's Dragonbard: 'Ylaerin, Dragonbard and Rider of sapphire Lyr'tyzluthe, and Yeullan, Rider of the emerald Kityr'wren, were wedded in the garden of Morlith, by the witnessing of their friends and family, on the evening of June 7, 2648.' ~~ note: Sorry this is such a 'functional' post. ;) I'm half asleep! -------------------------- Message 31 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Aug 28 15:27:14 2000 EDT From: Jenner (#25107) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Too much, in too little time. Jenner had to take a moment to reorient himself as he awoke in the darkness of the cave. Er, cavern. Oh yeah, he's on the Mount. Whichever Mount it was, however, he wasn't sure. Tierz'yrrlan slept peacefully beside him, though it was a wonder he hadn't crushed the kid beside him sometime during the night. Jenner had a lot to learn about dragons. Hell, Jenner had a lot to learn -period- at this point. Everything had happened so fast the night previous, that he'd been walking around in the haze of it, as if he were in another boy's body and not his own. Climbing off the smooth stone of the dragon cot, he stretched, feeling muscles aching in places he didn't know had muscles. The flight up here had been terrifying, and now they were all telling him he had to get used to it. For someone that actively disliked flight, it was gonna be interesting. The curtain that lead to the rest of the Mount flickered with light around the edges, guiding him out. He'd hardly gotten a chance to explore last night, too tired and confused to bother. So, since Tierz'yrrlan seemed contentedly asleep, it seemed a good time to wander out and see what he'd gotten himself into. -------------------------- Message 32 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Aug 29 23:39:12 2000 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *storylines (#5236) Ylaerin paced the floor of the Sarkus, walked the outlines of the spiral mosaic there, the shimmering of her blue gown catching the light and throwing it back to bounce off of the tiles. Somewhere, her dragon sighed, looking at the stars -- when she cast her mind out to him, he was in the middle of a meadow, head cast skyward, crooning a song it seemed she'd written... she couldn't, just now, remember when or why. At last she stopped, resisting the urge to go to the hatchery. Over the past few days, it seemed she had been in every room of this place, touched every wall, fingered every little bottle of dragon oil, carressed every stone near the fountain, pestered Freiga near to madness for cups of tea. She felt like a restless child -- her own children were restless as well. And all of these things in her heart she could not say! All of these people she loved but could not convince to listen; when had they stopped hearing her? why had she stopped speaking? Why had she let herself grow so complacent, so secure? What sort of a fool was she, anyhow, to believe these things.. to tear her family apart with harsh words... to tear herself apart with doubt. She sat, finally, on the crystal in the center of the room. She cast her head back, like Luthe's, stright up into the dusty darkness of this wondrous place. The place where she'd been given the greatest gift of her life. The place that could -- and would, it seemed -- take that gift away. She felt her life coaleasce around her in that room. On this mountaintop where everything important had either happened or been healed. And then she took up her harp. The silver notes drifted into the darkness, and somewhere in a meadow under stars her dragon shifted his tune to match her. She could not hear him, but he was in her mind, in her heart and soul, closer than anyone else could or would ever be -- closer than even he might be, sometime not so far from now. (Oh, the Goddess forbid it.) She sent her voice with the notes to her Bard, and to her Goddess, and to everyone she'd ever loved, everything she'd lost... everything she was on the brink of losing. She sang: What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain-- What is gone is gone. What is sea-born dies on land, Soft is trod upon. What is given burns the hand-- What is gone is gone. Here is there, and high is low; All may be undone. What is true, no two men know-- What is gone is gone. Who has choices need not choose. We must, who have none. We can love but what we lose-- What is gone is gone. ~~~ *Poem by Peter S. Beagle -------------------------- Message 33 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 30 00:11:40 2000 EDT From: Jenner (#25107) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Wondering. So Jenner had arrived just in time for upheaval. Wasn't that just typical. It seemed to follow the kid wherever he went. For once he'd started to feel like he had something going here. Tierz'yrrlan had Chosen him, made him special. The black dragon was a new found friend, and a strange one at that. Still, Jenner could help but feel the attachment being returned just as strongly. Even if these things came to pass, he could see himself with Lan for the rest of his days. Having had few friends throughout his sixteen years, the idea of it was astoundingly surreal. Everyone seemed friendly, at first. He knew Kiva already, which helped. Ylaerin was sweet, as was her Dragonfriend. Yalindra seemed nice enough. Still, he'd heard the argument that sprung up between them out of the blue. Something about the Sarkus. (Whatever that is.) And it blowing up like a bunch of grenades. Sounds pleasant. Real nice. Though he doesn't quite understand it all, it really seemed to bother Tierz'yrrlan, and for that reason, the kid had begun to entertain thoughts of leaving the Mount, taking the Obsidian with him. The problem boiled down to communication. Though the older Dragonriders were adept at understanding their bondmates, Jenner didn't have this advantage, and he wasn't actually bonded to Lan in the same sense either. He knew there was some kinda ceremony involved... and he really didn't want to go through with it, in all honesty. Magic was just... ech. So, here he sat, in that huge Cavern that served as a temporary home, just as all the other places he'd lived at were. Temporary. The community was about to be scattered, he could feel it, had even heard it in the way Ylaerin and Yalindra spoke to one another. It would soon be time to move on. The nice thing was... at least Tierz'yrrlan would be some sort of constant in his otherwise lonely life. -------------------------- Message 34 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Aug 31 23:41:24 2000 EDT From: Skywalker (#6644) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Finger lickin' good The azure-skinned Submariner sat quietly on the edge of his bed. He tugged off his boots and dropped them on the floor with a dull thud. Although the blood had been washed off the moment he stepped into the ocean, he could still see it. What had come over her? It had all happened so quickly...they were joking around, and the next thing he knew, he was treating her seizure. He had never before had a patient who was convulsing helplessly on the floor one minute and then tearing someone apart with her bare hands the next. Such an inhuman way to die...and at the hands of another human too? And the screams. Only slisssh are supposed to be able to howl like that. It was like some kind of nightmare. He sighed and lay back on his bed to sleep, but all he could see was that face which could be so soft and tender...now it was staring back at him with animal hunger as blood dripped from savage lips. -------------------------- Message 35 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Sep 1 00:26:11 2000 EDT From: Clayson (#17237) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Looking She leaned over the boy, her dark hair falling in violent waves about the fragile frame of her face. She drew her knife and punched the blade into his navel, and dragged it to his throat. From the corner of her eye she could see the man who stood close to the horror swallow slowly, his face contorted in fear and pain, as if the knife had struck him. "Where is my dragon" the woman demanded. "How am I supposed to know?" the man question in a slow whine. "Look for him, him or that Lord what's his shit, bring me my dragon." the woman's eyes met the man's for a brief second before her gaze fell back on the gutted boy. "You see that?" she asked as she pointed to the boys bare genitals, "his nuts are still intact, you will not be so lucky, in fact, when I take your jewels I'll make sure you are still alive and watching if you don't bring to me what I require. She threw the man a gps unit, "Take this" she called out as she started down the dark path, "it belongs to a powerful mage, perhaps it will help you on your journey" -------------------------- Message 36 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Sep 1 00:39:45 2000 EDT From: Mikishi (#24590) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: The Precognition It was a fretful sleep, and it suddenly ceased with a body-jolting awakening. Sweat beaded her furry brow as the feline scrambled to turn on a lantern in the murky darkness of the tent. As her eyes adjusted to the blank, yet now appropriately lit, surroundings, she grabbed her blanket a little closer and shuddered. Her mind was a swimming sea of disassembled thoughts. Oh, the horror. Oh, the nudity. Oh, worst of all: the leering gazes. The blur of prodding fingers. And, out of all places, the Round Room? What to make of it? She shut her eyes, shook her head violently as if to dissolve the fresh memories of a nightmare from her wary brain, and finally slunk back into her cold sheets with a slight quiver. It's coming. And we're very, very afraid. OOC note: Yeah, Andi's TP is tomorrow (it was rescheduled), so go, be happy, get nekkid. -------------------------- Message 37 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Sep 1 23:18:05 2000 EDT From: Andi (#25000) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Attempted practical joke. Okay, so she tried. She must have been thinking about it too much though. The feline had, get this, a dream that was basically what she had been thinking it would be like. No wonder she shot down everything. Yeah, Andi tried everything she knew. Granted the only reason she ever used the knowledge on a woman was for some gain of her own but still, she's always been successful before. Maybe she didn't understand the female recomb. *Shrug* Wait, what about all those people who knew something about what was going on. Hmmm, that most like means she will find out she was about to be the victim of a joke. Oooo, maybe when she does learn we will find ourselves laughing about it in the future. Ah, everything didn't turn out so bad afterall. -------------------------- Message 39 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Sep 4 00:49:44 2000 EDT From: Devon (#23970) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Trials and Tribulations. The past few weeks seemed a blur for Devon. Devon's own personal trials against himself had finally caught up with him. As it began, he was sure that his life of inaction was the reasons for his failure. He feared that by becoming like the other Devon he would continue on a downward spiral to his own demise. But in doing so he prevented himself from gaining his own freedom, having sewn his ties to others in order to survive. But now all of that had change, Devon was free and renewed in his quest. He had broken his weakened circle to ascend to a higher, and in doing so gained an edge he had lost in a previous life. But his own release was not short lived, for he was put into the hands of the self-proclaimed Dragonmage. But it was not that he had any choice in the matter, Rathe himself had accused him of being a 'accident'. As an aberration on reality, Devon could do that which was left to him. It was his fate to mar the surface of Rathe's own reality when he was able, and he would renew this fight eternal until the very weave of reality became unbound. But Devon wondered at his new teacher, and what exactly would be the cost of his new freedom. --------------------------