From quinn@fazigu.org Wed May 11 14:57:31 2005 Return-path: Envelope-to: quinn@fazigu.org Delivery-date: Wed, 11 May 2005 14:57:31 -0400 Received: from yami.57thstreet.com ([216.110.12.54]:3039) by work.fazigu.org with esmtp (Exim 4.50) id 1DVwOg-0000r8-HB for quinn@fazigu.org; Wed, 11 May 2005 14:57:30 -0400 Received: from moo.ghostmoo.org (yami.57thstreet.com [216.110.12.54]) by yami.57thstreet.com (8.13.1/8.13.1) with SMTP id j4BIwVno020432 for ; Wed, 11 May 2005 18:58:31 GMT (envelope-from quinn@fazigu.org) Message-Id: <200505111858.j4BIwVno020432@yami.57thstreet.com> Date: Wed, 11 May 2005 13:58:31 -0400 From: "Quinn@Ghostwheel" To: quinn@fazigu.org Subject: Ghostwheel Message(s) 250 - 255 from *storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: Ghostwheel (moo.ghostmoo.org 6969) X-Spam-Checker-Version: SpamAssassin 3.0.2 (2004-11-16) on work.fazigu.org X-Spam-Level: X-Spam-Status: No, score=-2.1 required=5.0 tests=AWL,BAYES_00 autolearn=ham version=3.0.2 Status: RO Content-Length: 7526 Lines: 182 Message 250 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 16 13:13:42 2005 EST From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Waiting Ylaerin found that she couldn't sleep, which was really no surprise, all things considered. She got up out of the dragon cot, got dressed in her riding gear, and went out of the cavern, down the unfamiliar corridors in the dim torchlight, running a hand along the wall the way a child might. She went quietly down to the dormitory to look in on Rhianna and Trae. Sliding the huge wooden door open a little ways to peer in, she could see the young man sleeping fitfully and her daughter sitting on the cot facing him, honing her blade with a meditative, repetitive motion. Without looking up, without pausing, Rhianna said, very low, "Go away." And so she did. Ylaerin went up the next hall and into the hatchery. Wordlessly, Luthe woke, hauled himself up out of the sands where he and Myr'lethsaraath lay curled near the eggs, and came with her out to the open caldera. She mounted up, and the two of them headed back to Morlith. She could not say why she needed to go -- or, rather, she could, but it felt silly to her, now, to admit it. She was waiting, and there was nothing more foolish than waiting for things that you know will never happen. But she needed to go back, once more, to convince herself. To allow herself to turn the full force of her heart and her thoughts on her daughter and whatever Fate it was that faced her. She thought back to earlier in the evening, the strange sense of peace that she'd felt in the midst of whatever it was that was building. Chaaya had come to her, and she had known there was nothing she could do. They all had, eventually, gone back to the new Aeyrie together, at Trae's insistence, and Ylaerin watched her only daughter carefully. She'd never quite seen her look that way before -- her only daughter, her only living child. Rhianna had always had more of her father in her than Rowan had, and sometimes it was clearer than others. Last night, though. Last night. Shed seen that Shar-look before, on Shar himself, and it unsettled her to see her daughter wearing it. Luthe alit on the near-empty ledge at Morlith, and together they breathed in the high mountain air. Ylaerin paced, quietly, through the familiar halls. The old life she'd led rose up around her and filled her with a strange melancholy. Here was where her son was born. Here was where he had died. Here was where her daughter was born, and there was where her youngest had been killed. The place where her first husband had ended his life was sealed off, now, by fallen stone. The place where she'd been twice wedded surrounded the broken fountain. Luthe's hatching. Their bonding. These places of sorrow, of healing, of love. All of these she would leave behind, and new ones waited on that warm island to be built. There was nothing, here, to wait for anymore. There was nothing for her to do but to wait, to watch, to plan and to listen. But she would have to wait elsewhere. At least there, there was sunshine, and the hope of growing things. -------------------------- Message 251 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 17 16:57:36 2005 EST From: Laurent (#14050) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: A new power rises Watch the skies. The Wyrms are back, there is death above you. Strip-boned harbingers of old magic and new power, malevolent intelligence and unknown goals. Seven Wyrms. As there are seven Samurai and seven Deadly Sins. Seven men or women will be given the chance for power, vengeance, death and damnation. If they are not afraid to grab for it. Smoke drifts from the crevices of Uruken. The hunger of the Wyrmriders begins to be felt--ask the Dragonbard's daughter and her friends if you do not believe. A new faction is rising. A new power grows. Watch the skies. -------------------------- Message 252 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 18 23:45:27 2005 EST From: Leaf (#37243) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: The girl. A crystal is a crystal is a crystal. The girl has no idea She only -pops- off the head of her Barbie doll to shove another into the carcass of her prized possession. "You can never flip off a blind man.." she whispers to herself as she follows the trail, shoving the dolls head back into place. Her good eye scans the trees, her left, offering nothing but a hole covered in darkness. "...Dee-Dee..?" Hoping beyond hope that he will answer, for she misses him. -------------------------- Message 253 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 21 02:51:47 2005 EST From: Owen (#15637) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: You Are Cordially Invited There are no newspapers here, just rumors and word of mouth, news moving from friend to acquaintance to stranger in the flourishing grapevine of the wastes. And if the latest piece of news is less dramatic than some, it's still passed along dutifully. There's going to be a wedding. In the big temple southeast of the R/T, that one that nobody quite knows how it got there. In a week, and it starts at sunset. Moonheart is going to be officiating. Or wait, that black cat is officiating, Moonheart is the one getting married. No, not Moonheart, the magi's son. Anyway, there's going to be a wedding and it's got an open bar. That's the important thing. -------------------------- Owen and Scorch are getting married. The wedding will be held at the Temple of Bast (63/-9/0 in the Inner Wastes) on Thursday March 24 at 9 PM EST/6 PM PST. Anyone who wants to attend is invited, the ceremony will be brief and the party afterward may or may not run late. -------------------------- Message 254 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 25 14:05:36 2005 EST From: DragonBabe (#5288) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Nature's Way A fearsome roaring, grinding and screeching of rock like fingernails on a blackboard came from the Mountain as great gouts of dust and debris fell to the twisted valley below. Lava again flowed, moving southward and down the rocky scree at the edge of ShadowBrook. Finally the noise stopped, leaving in it's place a profound and eerie silence. [OOC: Mount Morlith has undergone an extreme alteration and has left little remains.] -------------------------- Message 255 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Apr 2 18:31:08 2005 EST From: Clayson (#17237) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: The Undead. A simple glass, a tingle of amber poison travels between her sweet lips as she listens. Sitting at a small table, N'Orleans always offered a sanctuary to Mona, poised, she hears the name of the new Wyrm Master within the whispered conversation as she sits across from a man who can offer her a pleasant afternoon, though she pushes these thoughts away so she can concentrate on another item she needs. She stares at the young man, his words a haze. "Can you write..?" her question easy in interruption of his innuendoes before her glass reaches her lips again. He nods, this, brings a smile to otherwise placid lips. "Send a note to this Wyrm Master, tell him I need to speak to him." Mona whispers, "Write as you will, no need for me to see it, I trust your words will convey my message to this new King." Knowing her message will reach the one in need, Mona lets her eyes scan the crowd, as it has been years since she has seen humans.... --------------------------