A happy little shriek of nervous delight comes from Rees' throat as Naoisi lifts her lightly up and carries her up and into the house. As she is set down within an opulant bedroom, she feels her knees weakening, her heart thudding as he removes his heavy coat and returns to her.
Rees is breathing hard and has a sudden urge to flee as Naoisi takes his time with her laces, but she forces herself to remain standing, although she trembles a little as he bends to touch her bare shoulder then drop a trail of kisses upon it as well.
"Ahhh, Naoisi, mmmm..." Rees cannot help but give a soft moan in response to his touch and her hands come up to run through his thick hair as she finds herself swaying forward towards his hands and mouth.
Ye ol' Bazaar
Moderator: Mods
He kept looking in her eyes for a while. Then, for the first time since the two had met, he smiled. A bit of colour returned to his pale face. "Yes, this madam Rahan was the one who gave me this." He showed her the strange wind instrument, but kept it firmly in his grasp, as a little boy showing his coolest toy to the girl nextdoors. "She obviously had great knowledge about esoteric matters...I believe she might be even clairvoyant. The thing is, I hope I can't find my way back to her dwellings."
"How exactly would we get into the palace? And what would we do there? I don't want to be a bore, but it sounds a bit dangerous to me. I'm not much of a climber nor a sword fighter nor a sorcerer." He watched the skies with one eye too, and with one eyebrow pulled up, not really a sign of immense trust. He chuckled, now nodding "no" as if saying "nice prank fellahs" to the gods.
Somehow the situation had turned from a very serious all-consuming crisis into quite a comical one, and he felt quite relaxed right now. He suspected that this girl with her charming air and emerald eyes had something to do with it. He stood up and offered her an arm. "Shall we go then? You may choose: if you choose to intrude the palace, I'll follow. Should you prefer to get totally lost in the city because of my legendary orientation capacities, than I shall "lead" the way."
"How exactly would we get into the palace? And what would we do there? I don't want to be a bore, but it sounds a bit dangerous to me. I'm not much of a climber nor a sword fighter nor a sorcerer." He watched the skies with one eye too, and with one eyebrow pulled up, not really a sign of immense trust. He chuckled, now nodding "no" as if saying "nice prank fellahs" to the gods.
Somehow the situation had turned from a very serious all-consuming crisis into quite a comical one, and he felt quite relaxed right now. He suspected that this girl with her charming air and emerald eyes had something to do with it. He stood up and offered her an arm. "Shall we go then? You may choose: if you choose to intrude the palace, I'll follow. Should you prefer to get totally lost in the city because of my legendary orientation capacities, than I shall "lead" the way."
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
-
Perdita Faechild
Perdita felt a surge of indignation that she was implicated in whatever was going on. She just wanted to hold the bottle! As the situation became more serious, her anger dissipated to be replaced by fear. She hated - no detested magic, and the strange force fields or whatever it was that the man was using were quite unnerving. The trumpet calls added to her unease.
"Battle?" she whispered to Zhavon, quivering slightly at the thought of being caught in the middle of a war. She hoped that Troikar was somebody nice...preferably somebody who liked blondes...
Being ushered into the dungeon was not a pleasant experience. Every fibre of her being cried out against being held in such a place, especially as she was just an innocent bystander. The hissing, angry voice did little to help. She jumped several feet into the air and cast around for somebody to hold on to.
"Battle?" she whispered to Zhavon, quivering slightly at the thought of being caught in the middle of a war. She hoped that Troikar was somebody nice...preferably somebody who liked blondes...
Being ushered into the dungeon was not a pleasant experience. Every fibre of her being cried out against being held in such a place, especially as she was just an innocent bystander. The hissing, angry voice did little to help. She jumped several feet into the air and cast around for somebody to hold on to.
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Zhavon Mikhalrian
If Isabella gave her any sort of look, it fell on the back of Zhavon's head, the girl not even looking towards the other woman when it was supposed to occur. The haughty young woman might not even get to see the Sultan, and who really knew what sort of fate awaited her.
The dungeon, that might stroke some sense of familiarity, or at least forge a connection to the sleeper's awake-self. Like Perdita, she fervently wished that this Troikar would be someone with some degree of kindness. Blinking her surprise, she looked to Perdita, brows knitted in apprehension at the thought of partking as witnesses to some sort of battle. She did not reply to the other woman, though, she knew as much or less than Perdita about their new found situation.
In the cell, she reached for the sleeves of her two companions to pull them near the wall, away from this hissing voice that told them that they weren't supposed to be there. Shifting her attention to Syrawenn momentarily, Zhavon swatted at her gently, attempting to catch her upper arm. "Shhh... don't anger it..."
The dungeon, that might stroke some sense of familiarity, or at least forge a connection to the sleeper's awake-self. Like Perdita, she fervently wished that this Troikar would be someone with some degree of kindness. Blinking her surprise, she looked to Perdita, brows knitted in apprehension at the thought of partking as witnesses to some sort of battle. She did not reply to the other woman, though, she knew as much or less than Perdita about their new found situation.
In the cell, she reached for the sleeves of her two companions to pull them near the wall, away from this hissing voice that told them that they weren't supposed to be there. Shifting her attention to Syrawenn momentarily, Zhavon swatted at her gently, attempting to catch her upper arm. "Shhh... don't anger it..."
-
Gia as Rendia
Rendia liked peace. Ah, she allowed herself to think, now everything will be alright again. And then, after just having surrendered herself to Anasis, Rendia felt... something.
The tone sounded like the rushing of water, the wailing of a stormy wind, and the coming of rain to drench the earth. It felt like a shocking coldness, a holy pureness, and all embracing supportiveness. It took her breath away with power, beckoned her being, claimed her loyalty, and called her soul to come out, meet, and become one. And then she heard the music of life, preparing her, her goddess's call became stronger as she relinquished, gave in to it. Rendia closed her eyes at the new, terrific sensations, let her breath be bated, waited to see what the outcome of this would be.
What was created by this mix of sound of horn and nature, emotion born of divinity, and what Rendia saw next was an army. Her eyes flew open and wide against the wind, the air seemed heavy with moisture to her, the atmosphere leaden with battle, the sky would soon be clouded, and she could not stand it. She stared in terror. Why? What had she just seen? All of that beauty, the voice of her goddess, all had seemed right and perfect. Why then was there now this oppressive thing coming? What was it, what did it seek? She knew, she knew, but she did not want to know. It told her; she did not want to hear. The world was changed before her, and disregarding everything else, Rendia struggled with this unforseen proof, that Anasis was here, and that she desired destruction.
"NO!" the audible, heartbroken sound flew from her lips in piercing grief as the sound of trumpets increased. She denied it. Collecting enough willpower for a clear thought, she fell to her knees and moaned, "I hear the sounds of battle, I hear the sounds of war, but Anasis coming for Uphuron is the most backwards destructive idea I know. They do not oppose each other! True Lady, there is no where you cannot reach! Mercy incarnate, have mercy on me! I had almost given myself up to a lie!"
This was her prayer and plea. She was staring into a place where no mortal should be bold to stand. If Anasis was coming to fight with Uphuron, then it was not Anasis. They were inseparable, and even in their disagreements, they did not know hate, but good. Rendia knew her goddess, she had been close enough to see her! Anasis had no malice in her! Something was trying to tell her that the goddess she believed in was suddenly a different person! Something forceful, tricky, that knew how to feel like Anasis felt, but was terribly wrong.
"THIS IS NOT ANASIS!"
The tone sounded like the rushing of water, the wailing of a stormy wind, and the coming of rain to drench the earth. It felt like a shocking coldness, a holy pureness, and all embracing supportiveness. It took her breath away with power, beckoned her being, claimed her loyalty, and called her soul to come out, meet, and become one. And then she heard the music of life, preparing her, her goddess's call became stronger as she relinquished, gave in to it. Rendia closed her eyes at the new, terrific sensations, let her breath be bated, waited to see what the outcome of this would be.
What was created by this mix of sound of horn and nature, emotion born of divinity, and what Rendia saw next was an army. Her eyes flew open and wide against the wind, the air seemed heavy with moisture to her, the atmosphere leaden with battle, the sky would soon be clouded, and she could not stand it. She stared in terror. Why? What had she just seen? All of that beauty, the voice of her goddess, all had seemed right and perfect. Why then was there now this oppressive thing coming? What was it, what did it seek? She knew, she knew, but she did not want to know. It told her; she did not want to hear. The world was changed before her, and disregarding everything else, Rendia struggled with this unforseen proof, that Anasis was here, and that she desired destruction.
"NO!" the audible, heartbroken sound flew from her lips in piercing grief as the sound of trumpets increased. She denied it. Collecting enough willpower for a clear thought, she fell to her knees and moaned, "I hear the sounds of battle, I hear the sounds of war, but Anasis coming for Uphuron is the most backwards destructive idea I know. They do not oppose each other! True Lady, there is no where you cannot reach! Mercy incarnate, have mercy on me! I had almost given myself up to a lie!"
This was her prayer and plea. She was staring into a place where no mortal should be bold to stand. If Anasis was coming to fight with Uphuron, then it was not Anasis. They were inseparable, and even in their disagreements, they did not know hate, but good. Rendia knew her goddess, she had been close enough to see her! Anasis had no malice in her! Something was trying to tell her that the goddess she believed in was suddenly a different person! Something forceful, tricky, that knew how to feel like Anasis felt, but was terribly wrong.
"THIS IS NOT ANASIS!"
-
Guenhwyfar
- Retired staff
- Posts: 928
- Joined: Sun Oct 06, 2002 1:18 am
- Location: Citadel
Sensing her anxiety, Naoisi smiled tenderly at Rees as he kissed her again, then led her a few steps not to the bed but to a low, deep divan perpendicular to the window, the white expanse of its cushions and pillows streaked with the light from the windows. He laid her down so she was half-reclining, half-propped up on the pillows.
He leaned over her to give her other shoulder the same treatment the other had received, one hand sliding down the smooth material of her skirts until it found her ankle. He ran his fingers slowly and lightly up her stockinged leg, as far as he could go before sensing any hesitation or discomfort on her part.
He leaned over her to give her other shoulder the same treatment the other had received, one hand sliding down the smooth material of her skirts until it found her ankle. He ran his fingers slowly and lightly up her stockinged leg, as far as he could go before sensing any hesitation or discomfort on her part.
<i><small>She's not quite as nice as She looks, nor you quite as tough as you think.
--W.H. Auden, "Circe"</small></i>
--W.H. Auden, "Circe"</small></i>
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Rees
Rees is tingling all over from the sensation of Naoisi's kisses upon her shoulder. His mouth seems to be at the center of a hot damp flower, which is sending out little roots and tendrils of nerves across her entire body. She giggles a little in pleasure and then smiles at the dark haired man with a certain relief as he places her in the window seat and not upon the bed, which seems very... intimidating.
Still, she doesnt protest as he begins to kiss and nibble upon her other shoulder, and even when she feels his hand upon her ankle, she tenses a moment, but looks down into his green eyes, forcing herself to relax.
I trust him. I trust Naoisi with my very life, even if I dont know why. Oh, I dont CARE why! He is wonderful, strong, kind,this is everything that I had ever hoped for- I dont even care what father would say or what will happen tomorrow as long as I can have this now. Maybe he will marry me...
Rees' girlish fantasy is accompanied by Naoisi's wandering hand moving carefully up her leg and she smiles and reaches down to kiss him again, easing her thighs slowly apart and whispering in what she hopes is a reassuring voice,
"It's all right, Naoisi. I want you to... that is, Im not afraid of you."
Still, she doesnt protest as he begins to kiss and nibble upon her other shoulder, and even when she feels his hand upon her ankle, she tenses a moment, but looks down into his green eyes, forcing herself to relax.
I trust him. I trust Naoisi with my very life, even if I dont know why. Oh, I dont CARE why! He is wonderful, strong, kind,this is everything that I had ever hoped for- I dont even care what father would say or what will happen tomorrow as long as I can have this now. Maybe he will marry me...
Rees' girlish fantasy is accompanied by Naoisi's wandering hand moving carefully up her leg and she smiles and reaches down to kiss him again, easing her thighs slowly apart and whispering in what she hopes is a reassuring voice,
"It's all right, Naoisi. I want you to... that is, Im not afraid of you."
-
Guest
OOC: Ack! Sorry... kinda forgot about this thread. Thanks to the people who reminded me. You know who you are! ;P
Everyone
The sun is about half way done with its descent- and then suddenly, a great shadow crosses its surface. Inky blackness envelopes the entire city within a perfect circle of shadow. Should anyone look down from the wall, they might see the desert sands illuminated only a few lengths from the lower rim of the city. Another horn calls out, and a roar- not so different from the noise created by the ocean rising into a narrow harbor at noon- echoes across the empty desert around the city.
A single flag waves high in the light outside the city. A large white on blue crest lies upon the massive banner... rippling like the softest stream. The symbol would be recognizable to none but the oldest among the city's residents... and one other individual.
Rendia- priestess of Amun Rah. The symbol is that of Anasis, the Mistress of the Lake.
Behind the flag, thousands of armored men and women, looking more like metallic automatons than true beings, emerge over the horizon. Metallic plates cover their bodies- spikes studding the armor at select locations, giving the entire army the appearance of an army of ants. Poised upon the faintest edge of the horizon, they stand still for a long moment. Upon the wall and within the city- guards move quickly, knocking over person after person in their rush. Defenses are being rallied with great rapidity...
...and then the silence is broken by another call of a horn- and then the gathered army rushed toward the bazaar once again.
Rendia
A presence brushes against Rendia's mind- a gentle caress of the ocean. The presence is familiar, but at the same time, she knows that it is not Anasis. There is something within the voices echoing within her head- something frightening. A facet of the goddess she knows- it is not the entirety. As if this is only the martialness- only the anger, the rage... At her scream, it is as if something breaks within the presence. There is confusion at that moment, and Rendia can feel it.
Then the sun sinks into shadow... and she feels a raging heat despite the sudden shadow. She feels the frustration of the sun god within her heart- and at the same time, the lack of understanding from the water god. The conflicting emotions struggle within her, as if seeking dominance- seeking answers within her very soul.
Why should I believe in Jaji, Priestess Rendia... comes the softest whisper along the breeze.
Zaure and Isabella
The pair is quickly taken before the large door, as the two leading them converse in a language that neither can understand. The door rotates open amid the sudden sound of guards rushing to various posts and the jingling of swords. As the doors move open, the faintest rush of air blows past Isabella and Zaure- and they are treated to one of the grandest and most opulent sights of their lives.
The room they enter is massive- indeed, the entire central spire of the Sultan's palace is taken up by this one room. The high ceiling is lined with what appear to be gems, although-given the height- it is impossible to tell. A systematic array of mirrors reflect light into and around colored lenses- refracting and diffracting until there is only a universal ambiant light, of an ever changing spectra. Large plants grow along the sides of the room- exotic dancers moving in slow undulations beneath the shadows of the massive fronds. At the far end of the room is a massive throne- the seat set at least three times Zaure's height above the floor. A continuous party of sorts seems to flow around the floor- moving to the continuous whine of a high pitched flute and the steady pulse of a loud and percussive drum.
Turning toward Isabella and Zaure, Zabe smiles. "Wait here for a moment, if you would." He approaches closer to the distant throne, the woman in his company following. With a wave of his hand, the music within the hall seems to stop for just a moment- and his voice rings out, unnaturally loud, once more speaking in the harsh and grating tongue. There is a small hand wave from the distance- from whatever form sits upon the throne, and the music begins again. With a gesture that the pair is to follow, the veiled woman follows Zabe to the ground just before the throne- the air shimmering from purple to blue to green and back to purple again as they move.
At last, upon the raised white stone before the throne, Zaure and Isabella can see the Sultan- his head covered in a massive and regal turban- his clothes of the finest silk. On either side, guards stand upon the massive seat of power. A tiny voice rings out, calling to the pair. "Hello there! I hear that the pair of you have some marvelous talents an-"
The childish voice is cut off by a sudden darkness, switching into a frightened scream, swiftly echoed by any of a number of throats within the hallway. Within a few moments, though, Zabe and the woman can be heard whispering soft words like spiderwebs- and the hall is luminated by a dull white glow, stretching from their hands.
The form on the throne huddles into a pathetic ball, whimpering occasionally.
Syrawenn, Perdita, Zhavon, Baldwin
The snake quivers- seeming to visibly stretch and expand itself, becoming darker and darker as it does so. "Foolsssss.... all of them... foolsss.... sssssshe would dare to upssssssset my plans, would sssssshe?" the hiss is cold and calculating, chilling any capable of hearing the oddly repulsive tremolo.
Heat suddenly begins to radiate around the dungeon- sizzling and blistering heat, and then the heat stops, and the red eyes flash again. This time, though- there is no serpent. There is only a shadow- a patch of darkness deeper than the surrounding void... and with a soft creak, the doors of the cells slide open. The shadowy presence exits through the door then, and then is suddenly gone.
Somewhere, far above, a door slams open. There is a muffled scream of pain, and then more silence.
The doors before the three women and the elf in the other cell swing freely in the slight breeze that flows through the room.
Everyone
The sun is about half way done with its descent- and then suddenly, a great shadow crosses its surface. Inky blackness envelopes the entire city within a perfect circle of shadow. Should anyone look down from the wall, they might see the desert sands illuminated only a few lengths from the lower rim of the city. Another horn calls out, and a roar- not so different from the noise created by the ocean rising into a narrow harbor at noon- echoes across the empty desert around the city.
A single flag waves high in the light outside the city. A large white on blue crest lies upon the massive banner... rippling like the softest stream. The symbol would be recognizable to none but the oldest among the city's residents... and one other individual.
Rendia- priestess of Amun Rah. The symbol is that of Anasis, the Mistress of the Lake.
Behind the flag, thousands of armored men and women, looking more like metallic automatons than true beings, emerge over the horizon. Metallic plates cover their bodies- spikes studding the armor at select locations, giving the entire army the appearance of an army of ants. Poised upon the faintest edge of the horizon, they stand still for a long moment. Upon the wall and within the city- guards move quickly, knocking over person after person in their rush. Defenses are being rallied with great rapidity...
...and then the silence is broken by another call of a horn- and then the gathered army rushed toward the bazaar once again.
Rendia
A presence brushes against Rendia's mind- a gentle caress of the ocean. The presence is familiar, but at the same time, she knows that it is not Anasis. There is something within the voices echoing within her head- something frightening. A facet of the goddess she knows- it is not the entirety. As if this is only the martialness- only the anger, the rage... At her scream, it is as if something breaks within the presence. There is confusion at that moment, and Rendia can feel it.
Then the sun sinks into shadow... and she feels a raging heat despite the sudden shadow. She feels the frustration of the sun god within her heart- and at the same time, the lack of understanding from the water god. The conflicting emotions struggle within her, as if seeking dominance- seeking answers within her very soul.
Why should I believe in Jaji, Priestess Rendia... comes the softest whisper along the breeze.
Zaure and Isabella
The pair is quickly taken before the large door, as the two leading them converse in a language that neither can understand. The door rotates open amid the sudden sound of guards rushing to various posts and the jingling of swords. As the doors move open, the faintest rush of air blows past Isabella and Zaure- and they are treated to one of the grandest and most opulent sights of their lives.
The room they enter is massive- indeed, the entire central spire of the Sultan's palace is taken up by this one room. The high ceiling is lined with what appear to be gems, although-given the height- it is impossible to tell. A systematic array of mirrors reflect light into and around colored lenses- refracting and diffracting until there is only a universal ambiant light, of an ever changing spectra. Large plants grow along the sides of the room- exotic dancers moving in slow undulations beneath the shadows of the massive fronds. At the far end of the room is a massive throne- the seat set at least three times Zaure's height above the floor. A continuous party of sorts seems to flow around the floor- moving to the continuous whine of a high pitched flute and the steady pulse of a loud and percussive drum.
Turning toward Isabella and Zaure, Zabe smiles. "Wait here for a moment, if you would." He approaches closer to the distant throne, the woman in his company following. With a wave of his hand, the music within the hall seems to stop for just a moment- and his voice rings out, unnaturally loud, once more speaking in the harsh and grating tongue. There is a small hand wave from the distance- from whatever form sits upon the throne, and the music begins again. With a gesture that the pair is to follow, the veiled woman follows Zabe to the ground just before the throne- the air shimmering from purple to blue to green and back to purple again as they move.
At last, upon the raised white stone before the throne, Zaure and Isabella can see the Sultan- his head covered in a massive and regal turban- his clothes of the finest silk. On either side, guards stand upon the massive seat of power. A tiny voice rings out, calling to the pair. "Hello there! I hear that the pair of you have some marvelous talents an-"
The childish voice is cut off by a sudden darkness, switching into a frightened scream, swiftly echoed by any of a number of throats within the hallway. Within a few moments, though, Zabe and the woman can be heard whispering soft words like spiderwebs- and the hall is luminated by a dull white glow, stretching from their hands.
The form on the throne huddles into a pathetic ball, whimpering occasionally.
Syrawenn, Perdita, Zhavon, Baldwin
The snake quivers- seeming to visibly stretch and expand itself, becoming darker and darker as it does so. "Foolsssss.... all of them... foolsss.... sssssshe would dare to upssssssset my plans, would sssssshe?" the hiss is cold and calculating, chilling any capable of hearing the oddly repulsive tremolo.
Heat suddenly begins to radiate around the dungeon- sizzling and blistering heat, and then the heat stops, and the red eyes flash again. This time, though- there is no serpent. There is only a shadow- a patch of darkness deeper than the surrounding void... and with a soft creak, the doors of the cells slide open. The shadowy presence exits through the door then, and then is suddenly gone.
Somewhere, far above, a door slams open. There is a muffled scream of pain, and then more silence.
The doors before the three women and the elf in the other cell swing freely in the slight breeze that flows through the room.
-
Syrawenn
- Baroness of Creiddyladd
- Posts: 2883
- Joined: Mon Nov 25, 2002 2:01 pm
- Location: Between gods
- Contact:
Syrawenn knew the girl was right. Of course it was not smart to anger whatever was in here. Yet sometimes it was simply smart to name the things that were going on to get it sorted out. Of course that also means you get yourself into the center of attention, making it likely for stuff to happen to you, stupid! She grinned silently, knowing it would never stop her from being direct.
She squeezed Zhavon's arm, smiling at the girl. "Thanks, no worries. I promise I won't take you guys with me into the abyss if I'm being stupid!"
Before she had the chance to delve deeper into the conversation, the voice changed and the temperature rose rapidly. "Wow!"The girl breathed heavily. "Which furnace suddenly got delusions of grandure? Damn!" Waving her hands to try to get some cool air Syrawenn felt the sweat trickle down her neck already.
As soon as it happened, it stopped again. The eyes were back...but not the serpant. Instead there were shadows.... Syrawenn gulped. Shadows....Serpants the girl could deal with, but not shadows! They were intangible, untouchable.
The door opened. The sudden rush of fresh air made her gasp. "Oooh, that feels good..." She was interrupted by a scream upstairs. Her eyes grew wide. "Sneaky serpants, what the flip is going on! Did anybody hear that or am I going crazy?" She exclaimed, shocked.
She squeezed Zhavon's arm, smiling at the girl. "Thanks, no worries. I promise I won't take you guys with me into the abyss if I'm being stupid!"
Before she had the chance to delve deeper into the conversation, the voice changed and the temperature rose rapidly. "Wow!"The girl breathed heavily. "Which furnace suddenly got delusions of grandure? Damn!" Waving her hands to try to get some cool air Syrawenn felt the sweat trickle down her neck already.
As soon as it happened, it stopped again. The eyes were back...but not the serpant. Instead there were shadows.... Syrawenn gulped. Shadows....Serpants the girl could deal with, but not shadows! They were intangible, untouchable.
The door opened. The sudden rush of fresh air made her gasp. "Oooh, that feels good..." She was interrupted by a scream upstairs. Her eyes grew wide. "Sneaky serpants, what the flip is going on! Did anybody hear that or am I going crazy?" She exclaimed, shocked.
[size=75]Gavin:She's the emerald eyed agent of chaos
Vanir:She's cute, it's her personality that gets in the way
Ulder:Syra is a great shredder of paralysis through analysis
Elvin:We call it the Law of Improbable Syrabilities
Avatar by Finn[/size]
Vanir:She's cute, it's her personality that gets in the way
Ulder:Syra is a great shredder of paralysis through analysis
Elvin:We call it the Law of Improbable Syrabilities
Avatar by Finn[/size]
-
Guest
She was about to propose they go deeper into the palace... when the eclipse began. She put a hand over her mouth and gasped, "By the stars..."
A distant rumble, like thundering tides, came over the horizon with tiny figures. All in a very war-prepared attire. She saw the flag, but it did not ring any bells. Something was in the air, maybe more than one fighting for power. She was confused and saw the flag once more.
"Finodborn, what's happening?" She looked back at him, worry clouding her eyes. Usually she was much more energetic... but something forboding was happening. "Should we attempt to alert someone?" She looked nervously around. Trying to find a guard, "We need to do something. Do you know what that flag means?" she gripped her whip at her side.
A distant rumble, like thundering tides, came over the horizon with tiny figures. All in a very war-prepared attire. She saw the flag, but it did not ring any bells. Something was in the air, maybe more than one fighting for power. She was confused and saw the flag once more.
"Finodborn, what's happening?" She looked back at him, worry clouding her eyes. Usually she was much more energetic... but something forboding was happening. "Should we attempt to alert someone?" She looked nervously around. Trying to find a guard, "We need to do something. Do you know what that flag means?" she gripped her whip at her side.
Strangely, panic was not the first thing to fill his heart, he felt more something like "wow, now THIS is impressive." However, as he saw the armed men in their nasty looking armours, his sentiment changed pretty abruptly, especially considering the total absence of any warrior skills in him.
"I don't know what's happening, nor do I know that symbol... it looks like something mythical or so to me. I don't know what to do. I'm not good in this sort of situation, not that I've experienced so many similar events." Nonetheless, he took his knife, normally only used for cutting bread and alike. He did not put away his new found instrument too far from his grasp however.
He instinctively took her arm, not to protect, rather to be protected. He saw her scanning the surroundings for the guards. "Don't you think the guards will be too busy? I propose we take a run for madam Rahan anyhow. I think somehow it will take more than swords and arrows to get us out of this one... and I myself know no magic."
"I don't know what's happening, nor do I know that symbol... it looks like something mythical or so to me. I don't know what to do. I'm not good in this sort of situation, not that I've experienced so many similar events." Nonetheless, he took his knife, normally only used for cutting bread and alike. He did not put away his new found instrument too far from his grasp however.
He instinctively took her arm, not to protect, rather to be protected. He saw her scanning the surroundings for the guards. "Don't you think the guards will be too busy? I propose we take a run for madam Rahan anyhow. I think somehow it will take more than swords and arrows to get us out of this one... and I myself know no magic."
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
-
Zaure
The elf felt himself hiding annoyance as their 'guides' spoke in a tongue he couldn't understand; after all, he'd understood the two primary languages in the Citadel. Zaure followed along silently, although he glanced at Isabella once in a while to make sure that she was still there and had not mysteriously evaporated into the desert air. He was somewhat perplexed as to all the rushing about, but then a breeze slightly ruffled his robe, and he was completely absorbed by the sight in front of him.
Involuntarily, he clapped his hands together in pure, unadulterated delight, nearly forgetting to actually move through the room. Zaure was quite happy to stand still and observe the opulent surroundings, thinking that perhaps it wasn't that bad to be dead after all. He studied the dancers and the beat of the music closely; both were highly fascinating to him, and very different from what he had seen alive. He walked slowly behind the two, his steps slow as he couldn't stop staring at the surroundings.
Zaure raised his hand in a return greeting, but put it down quickly as the person on the throne began to scream. While he was so fascinated by the room, he had allowed his shields to drop, but the elf quickly replaced them before the screams and fear of the people could permeate his being. He frowned at the white glow from Zabe's and the woman's hands, but his eyes were stuck on the small figure on the throne. The posture and action were quite familar to him.
Without consciously making the decision, the elf walked up to the throne and then climbed onto it to be near the curled up figure and put his arms around him in a gesture of comfort. At the same time, Zaure took all the feeling of wonderment and of happiness he had felt only a few moments before and tried to project it onto the figure. Unfortunately, this required dropping most of his shielding, meaning he had to fight off the fear of all the people in the room at the same time, which he attempted to do with logic, 'You are dead, it isn't as though anything can truly harm you.'
Involuntarily, he clapped his hands together in pure, unadulterated delight, nearly forgetting to actually move through the room. Zaure was quite happy to stand still and observe the opulent surroundings, thinking that perhaps it wasn't that bad to be dead after all. He studied the dancers and the beat of the music closely; both were highly fascinating to him, and very different from what he had seen alive. He walked slowly behind the two, his steps slow as he couldn't stop staring at the surroundings.
Zaure raised his hand in a return greeting, but put it down quickly as the person on the throne began to scream. While he was so fascinated by the room, he had allowed his shields to drop, but the elf quickly replaced them before the screams and fear of the people could permeate his being. He frowned at the white glow from Zabe's and the woman's hands, but his eyes were stuck on the small figure on the throne. The posture and action were quite familar to him.
Without consciously making the decision, the elf walked up to the throne and then climbed onto it to be near the curled up figure and put his arms around him in a gesture of comfort. At the same time, Zaure took all the feeling of wonderment and of happiness he had felt only a few moments before and tried to project it onto the figure. Unfortunately, this required dropping most of his shielding, meaning he had to fight off the fear of all the people in the room at the same time, which he attempted to do with logic, 'You are dead, it isn't as though anything can truly harm you.'
-
Gia as Rendia
Rendia could not understand it. She could not see the distant flag from where she was, but she was preoccupied enough. She did not know why Anasis would allow anyone to influence like she did, even for a second. She didn't know how a separate force could feel like another, somehow she had assumed they were all different. So this must be evil. It was unknown and it had tricked her. She didn't like being fooled. It had betrayed her.
There was only one possible explanation for Anasis to allow this. It was some sort of test, trial, or task.
The malignant facet she glimpsed did scare her, right down to the core of her being. Rendia hid her face in her hands. She was so confused... and then she realized she had felt the confusion of something else. It was jarring. deceiving. She wanted to survive whatever this was; she didn't know how. She had never been in a war, much less a holy war on more then one plane.
As the light sunk away, Rendia curled up in a tense crouch.
The heat. The heat, and the cold, they will not make men warm, but frozen... or burned. Grey stones or momentary flames.
The thoughts were rather incoherent, but feeling such forces was altogether terrifying, and she was trying to scrape together her strength.
They want... I can feel them desiring to absorb all for their own purposes. They want, they will be quenched for they have power. They will take me, I shall drown, I shall be consumed... consumed again, used up and swallowed by the darkness! Ay, ay ay! They can't have me! I WON'T LET THEM HAVE ME AGAIN! The thoughts were beginning to border on hysterical.
Rendia recoiled into herself, eyes growing hard, void, darkest blue. She stood up, as if to symbolize that she was brushing aside the powers as spider webs. But she felt as crushed as an insect, as trapped as the fly. She would shut the feeling off. She would silence the frantic voices. Then she could better hear the real enemies. The whisper almost knocked her increasing shut down into nothing, but her body was left standing.
Why...?
Why? Rendia knew why! Anasis loved her.
"I go forward
In the name of Anasis.
Blessed are the faithful,
Merciful the goddess.
I live for her will,
In the name of Anasis."
Rendia chanted softly. Her senses tremulously warned her of soldiers. So the armies were ready. She began to walk.
There was only one possible explanation for Anasis to allow this. It was some sort of test, trial, or task.
The malignant facet she glimpsed did scare her, right down to the core of her being. Rendia hid her face in her hands. She was so confused... and then she realized she had felt the confusion of something else. It was jarring. deceiving. She wanted to survive whatever this was; she didn't know how. She had never been in a war, much less a holy war on more then one plane.
As the light sunk away, Rendia curled up in a tense crouch.
The heat. The heat, and the cold, they will not make men warm, but frozen... or burned. Grey stones or momentary flames.
The thoughts were rather incoherent, but feeling such forces was altogether terrifying, and she was trying to scrape together her strength.
They want... I can feel them desiring to absorb all for their own purposes. They want, they will be quenched for they have power. They will take me, I shall drown, I shall be consumed... consumed again, used up and swallowed by the darkness! Ay, ay ay! They can't have me! I WON'T LET THEM HAVE ME AGAIN! The thoughts were beginning to border on hysterical.
Rendia recoiled into herself, eyes growing hard, void, darkest blue. She stood up, as if to symbolize that she was brushing aside the powers as spider webs. But she felt as crushed as an insect, as trapped as the fly. She would shut the feeling off. She would silence the frantic voices. Then she could better hear the real enemies. The whisper almost knocked her increasing shut down into nothing, but her body was left standing.
Why...?
Why? Rendia knew why! Anasis loved her.
"I go forward
In the name of Anasis.
Blessed are the faithful,
Merciful the goddess.
I live for her will,
In the name of Anasis."
Rendia chanted softly. Her senses tremulously warned her of soldiers. So the armies were ready. She began to walk.
-
Guest
Automne smiled inwardly at his grasp, feeling a small sense of control... but she wasn't completely sure wether he was protecting of being protected. "Right!" she tightened her grip, for mental support, on her whip. "You go ahead and lead on. I can bring up the rear. God, I hope we find someone.... everything seems so quiet."
She gave her eyes again to the eclipse and shuddered. What war was being waged in the air? Whose blood would be spilled this night? She jumped down from their stoop leading him down as well.
"This... Madam Rahan... in what way can she aid us? Will we need spells and powders? Or is she merely for councel?"
She tweeked her ears. From what she heard no major battling had insued if any at all. "We must hurry... I hope..."
She looked at him, facade dim in the dark, "I hope we can find whatever we were met for... And I'm glad we have met." She tried to give him a comforting smile... it faltered as she heard some movements.
"We must be off. Quickly!"
She gave her eyes again to the eclipse and shuddered. What war was being waged in the air? Whose blood would be spilled this night? She jumped down from their stoop leading him down as well.
"This... Madam Rahan... in what way can she aid us? Will we need spells and powders? Or is she merely for councel?"
She tweeked her ears. From what she heard no major battling had insued if any at all. "We must hurry... I hope..."
She looked at him, facade dim in the dark, "I hope we can find whatever we were met for... And I'm glad we have met." She tried to give him a comforting smile... it faltered as she heard some movements.
"We must be off. Quickly!"
Her determination put him at ease a bit. Carrying out simple tasks was no problem, if she were to steer, everything would be alright.
He followed her gaze to the sky, and somehow he still found the spectacle beautiful in a way.
Then she suddenly pulled him down. "I don't quite know what she can do for us. But I'm sire she already knew about these things before they were here. She is a sorceress of some sort, or a seer perhaps... She led me to you. Anyhow, I think we don't have that many other options anyhow, do you?"
He felt warm as she told him she was glad to have met, and wanted to give her a smile and a kiss on her cheek, when all of a sudden she said they should be off. "Right then," he said, and ran off with her in the direction he thought he should go to find madam Rahan.
He followed her gaze to the sky, and somehow he still found the spectacle beautiful in a way.
Then she suddenly pulled him down. "I don't quite know what she can do for us. But I'm sire she already knew about these things before they were here. She is a sorceress of some sort, or a seer perhaps... She led me to you. Anyhow, I think we don't have that many other options anyhow, do you?"
He felt warm as she told him she was glad to have met, and wanted to give her a smile and a kiss on her cheek, when all of a sudden she said they should be off. "Right then," he said, and ran off with her in the direction he thought he should go to find madam Rahan.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
-
Guest
They ran along the emptying bazaar streets. I wonder if they've all run away or if anyone is actually here at all... She suddenly regretted wearing her nice things today. Her dress was inaddiquite with this running, but it was too late to stop.
They took turn after turn, Finodborn barely in the lead, as she kept a close rear. She began to wonder if they could actually fight if te situation called for it... her skills were improving as a whip-mistress but there was great room for improvement. She pushed her heavy thoughts from her head and concentrated in front of them...
They went on... "Finodborn.... should we run across anyone... I think we should tell anyone capable of fighting to get weapons and go to the palace... and women and children lock themselves up safe... dont you think?...." Her feet began to ache in their uncomfortable slippers... I hope this Madam Rahan has an extra room... Ill be changing my clothes there if she does. There is no way I can do anything in this... after all, I still have my pack of fresh things with me...
"Hold tight to your weapon, they might have sent in some soldiers to search the area." Her eyes sparkled green defiance, in side she quaked gently... scared of the present danger... but also something in her cried out for this adventure. Was it really fun if there was no danger involved?
With this thought in her mind... she ran up to Finodborn and grabbed his hand... both running hand in hand, not slowing either down. Alright! Let's go.. "Together!"
They took turn after turn, Finodborn barely in the lead, as she kept a close rear. She began to wonder if they could actually fight if te situation called for it... her skills were improving as a whip-mistress but there was great room for improvement. She pushed her heavy thoughts from her head and concentrated in front of them...
They went on... "Finodborn.... should we run across anyone... I think we should tell anyone capable of fighting to get weapons and go to the palace... and women and children lock themselves up safe... dont you think?...." Her feet began to ache in their uncomfortable slippers... I hope this Madam Rahan has an extra room... Ill be changing my clothes there if she does. There is no way I can do anything in this... after all, I still have my pack of fresh things with me...
"Hold tight to your weapon, they might have sent in some soldiers to search the area." Her eyes sparkled green defiance, in side she quaked gently... scared of the present danger... but also something in her cried out for this adventure. Was it really fun if there was no danger involved?
With this thought in her mind... she ran up to Finodborn and grabbed his hand... both running hand in hand, not slowing either down. Alright! Let's go.. "Together!"
The desolate streets gave everything the atmosphere of a dream.
"I think you're totally right, my dear," said Finodborn,breathing heavily. "However as things look now, chances are small we shall com across anybody to warn."
He saw her having difficulties with her clothing. "May I say, milady, that your choice of garderobe is an absolute proof of your refined taste?" He smiled.
He affirmed his grip on his knife, though because of the sweat this resulted in the blade falling to the ground. "Whoops" he said, picking it up as quickly as possible.
They ran together for still a while, until they reached the place Finodborn thought madam Rahan's dwellings to be located.
"I think you're totally right, my dear," said Finodborn,breathing heavily. "However as things look now, chances are small we shall com across anybody to warn."
He saw her having difficulties with her clothing. "May I say, milady, that your choice of garderobe is an absolute proof of your refined taste?" He smiled.
He affirmed his grip on his knife, though because of the sweat this resulted in the blade falling to the ground. "Whoops" he said, picking it up as quickly as possible.
They ran together for still a while, until they reached the place Finodborn thought madam Rahan's dwellings to be located.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
-
Perdita Faechild
Perdita stiffened as the creature hissed at them. She could not recall ever feeling a terror so profound. Then the heat came, searing her skin. The shadow that followed chilled her to the core. The woman who kept making smart comments seemed to be dealing just fine with it all.
"Perhaps we ought to try and get out of here," she suggested, watching the door flap open. "Although...now it's out there...and we're in here..."
"Perhaps we ought to try and get out of here," she suggested, watching the door flap open. "Although...now it's out there...and we're in here..."
-
Syrawenn
- Baroness of Creiddyladd
- Posts: 2883
- Joined: Mon Nov 25, 2002 2:01 pm
- Location: Between gods
- Contact:
Syrawenn shrugged. "Hey, as far as I'm concerned we were just found innocent. Outside it's light and we got more space to move around and we get a chance to get the flip out of here. Inside it's dark, damp, cramped and we can do just about as much as Dominicus once he finds out there are other gods around. Catch my drift? Come on!"
With these words the girl made her way out of the dungeon, hoping the others would follow. The more the merrier! Carefully she took a step outside, looking around and listening if there was anything out of the ordinary. Next to a few miles of pissed off snake...
With these words the girl made her way out of the dungeon, hoping the others would follow. The more the merrier! Carefully she took a step outside, looking around and listening if there was anything out of the ordinary. Next to a few miles of pissed off snake...
[size=75]Gavin:She's the emerald eyed agent of chaos
Vanir:She's cute, it's her personality that gets in the way
Ulder:Syra is a great shredder of paralysis through analysis
Elvin:We call it the Law of Improbable Syrabilities
Avatar by Finn[/size]
Vanir:She's cute, it's her personality that gets in the way
Ulder:Syra is a great shredder of paralysis through analysis
Elvin:We call it the Law of Improbable Syrabilities
Avatar by Finn[/size]
-
Zhavon Mikhalrian
She visiably cringed away from the snake creature in the dungeon, huddling close to Perdita and Syrawenn as though one of those two might possibly have a better idea. Gaze flickered between her companions, the heat like a furnance against her face, searing against her eyelids. With the departure of Syra, though, Zhavon shifted her attention to Perdita and shrugged, apprehension still etching her face. "...If you have a better plan, I'm all ears..." With that, however, she was following the other girl out of the dungeon, dogging Syrawenn's steps.
-
Guest
What a mess I've gotten myself into! There are invading troops from god knows who... now I'm galavanting through the bazaar with a young to chat with and seek cousel with an alleged 'seer'. This is... so fast, but so exciting.
She stood by Finodborn, "Well, is she here? Is Madam Rahan here?"
She looked up at her companion with urgence, "Friend, I'm not sure what we can do If she doesn not show up. Will she be able to give us weapons or armor? Some magiked things? Ahg! I'm in such a fright... I suppose all we can do is wait..."
She studied everything, it seemed like the very air chilled with the sudden changes in weather and astonomy. She clutched her arm around his and hung a little closer, if only she could change into her travelling clothes, she'd be warm, comfy and at least prepared for SOME kind of battle.
"Finodborn, it grows colder," She paused wanting something to say that would add something to this silence... so many things she could say, but there was nothing that hadn't already been said... nothing that could be said that wouldn't make her repeat herself, nothing bared repeating. Now it was just Finodborn and she, against the odds (at least for now) and sewed in to some fate they could not decifer nor understand. Song of the Sea?.... It seemed to make the air that much colder to think about it... was she scared? No! She couldn't be! To be scared would be to put down her defenses, to make her look uninvincable... defensless. But there was so much here that could end them some terrifying evil, but it was everywhere... it was in the palace, outside the bazaar; and she guessed there was only a limited ammount of time before it closed in and suffocated their hopes. Maybe just this once....
only this very once she's allow herself to look at fear and tremble, just a little. She closed the distance between Finodborn and herself and rested her head on his shoulder. It was nice to have a shoulder to lean on, expecially his.[/i]
She stood by Finodborn, "Well, is she here? Is Madam Rahan here?"
She looked up at her companion with urgence, "Friend, I'm not sure what we can do If she doesn not show up. Will she be able to give us weapons or armor? Some magiked things? Ahg! I'm in such a fright... I suppose all we can do is wait..."
She studied everything, it seemed like the very air chilled with the sudden changes in weather and astonomy. She clutched her arm around his and hung a little closer, if only she could change into her travelling clothes, she'd be warm, comfy and at least prepared for SOME kind of battle.
"Finodborn, it grows colder," She paused wanting something to say that would add something to this silence... so many things she could say, but there was nothing that hadn't already been said... nothing that could be said that wouldn't make her repeat herself, nothing bared repeating. Now it was just Finodborn and she, against the odds (at least for now) and sewed in to some fate they could not decifer nor understand. Song of the Sea?.... It seemed to make the air that much colder to think about it... was she scared? No! She couldn't be! To be scared would be to put down her defenses, to make her look uninvincable... defensless. But there was so much here that could end them some terrifying evil, but it was everywhere... it was in the palace, outside the bazaar; and she guessed there was only a limited ammount of time before it closed in and suffocated their hopes. Maybe just this once....
only this very once she's allow herself to look at fear and tremble, just a little. She closed the distance between Finodborn and herself and rested her head on his shoulder. It was nice to have a shoulder to lean on, expecially his.[/i]
-
Guest
Everyone
Chaos.
The attack had commenced with stunning rapidity- people running around, screaming in the sudden darkness of the sunless sky. The odd beauty of the deep blues and purples of the painted sky were utterly lost upon the poor sould, running frantically toward the sealed palace doors- throwing themselves bodily at the few guards that remained there. "WHY DO YOU NOT LET US ENTER? WHY CAN WE NOT PASS?" came the collective question from the throats of those gathered.
The wall fell down within moments- perhaps the results of some sort of foreign magic of the invaders. Whatever the case, the city wall had been breached as quake after quake rocked the ground. Shouts and screams commingled in the air with war cries and trumpet blasts. Slowly, ever so slowly, the army drew closer to the center of the city, killing and purging as they moved. Somehow, though- there was no fear among those dying... instead, it was a sort of vague relief.
Hidden behind a deepening murkiness, the sun began to shatter.
Automne and Finodborn
A low voice whispered lightly from the shadows within Madam Rahan's shop, the faint smell of incense emerging with it. "Quickly... enter here- make sure that HE does not see you. He of the shadow and the darkness- he of the will and the way." The voice was hushed, but instantly recognizable as that of the old woman (at least to Finodborn, in any event). The smell of perfume and incense filled the shadowy expanse, inviting and somehow repelling at the same time.
Within, the woman sat still, her eyes lowered sorrowfully- the entire place, formally almost ethereal in its elegance was now in ruins- the marvelous objects scattered and broken- the hanging objects torn. The walls themselves were broken, it would seem- from what it was possible to see in the dim candlelight. The frail woman lingered on the only piece of furniture that remained standing- a soft chair in the middle of the room.
Upon her lap rested a crystalline ball- the surface cracked beyond repair- and from the refracted light, the moisture in Lady Rahan's eyes was readily apparent. "It has been done, and the time has come." Her eyes narrowed at Automne, but then softened as Finodborn approached. "It is too soon, some might say, but it has happened nonetheless."
The crystal ball gave an odd flicker of power and was still within the wrinkled hands once more.
Perdita, Syrawenn, Zhavon
The trio was fortunate for the attack, in some ways- there were no guards within, and the door to the outside world swayed easily upon its oiled hinges. Outside, though- the expected sunlight did not stream down upon them... instead, there was only a murkiness- barely perceptible to the group, but still present. Whatever shadow had lurked beneath lurked here too, now- amid screams and fire and war.
The sight was horrifying- a steady line of blue warriors approaching toward the palace, barely impeded by a dwindling stream of the Sultan's men. One corpse in particular caught the group's eye, though- dead, near the gate- what must have been a cannonball lying near his now rather formless face. His hand splayed to his side, and among the fingers the barely detectable glimmer shone from within it...
The vial.
Rendia
Light flowed through and around Rendia. Her paces were not impeded, even as the wall in front of her collapsed in what should have been a fatal blow. Somehow, the bricks managed to avoid her lithe form. The soothing call of Anasis flowed around her, telling her that things would soon be alright. Somehow, the voice didn't seem concerned by the death being dealt around her- nor did those dying. Rendia could see children vaguely smiling as a sword blade would begin to bear down on their tiny forms. There was no fear.
It is as it should be, High Priestess. This is how it has always been, and always will be. Don't fear for them- this place is eternal, and so are they. The voice comforted her, its gentle ministrations somehow soothing despite the atmosphere.
The sun, lost in shadow, called to Rendia. Jaji... do you not adore the Jaji any longer? was the tortured whisper, as the sun began to slowly coalesce from its grandeur to a compacted core, while the army of Anasis slowly marched on.
Zaure and Isabella
The fear rolled through the two empaths, trying desperately to break through the fragile, egg-like shields they had erected. Unfortunately for Zaure, the dropping of the shield to commune with the huddled form on the throne served only to make what would have been a difficult emotion to shield from stronger still. Despite himself, the elf could feel the uncertainty and panic flowing through his veins- just as the comfort extended across the empathic link toward the Sultan.
Sitting up and sniffling, he seemed to want to cling to Zaure- an impossible task, as the guards snapped out of their fearful reverie for long enough to snatch the elflet away, cuffing him sharply upon the face- an odd sensation when combined with the helplessness that drifted through his concious mind. "What do you think you are doing? What sorcery do you work on the Sultan?" The angry eyes were searching, imploring. Zaure's feet were upon the very edge of the throne- facing a very large fall.
The two magi, with their glowing hands, seemed otherwise occupied and did not seem to notice the elf's plight in their attempt to calm the masses within the throne hall. From outside, vague explosions and rumblings could be heard... but they were so distant that it seemed impossible that they could bear any relevence to the situation at hand.
Chaos.
The attack had commenced with stunning rapidity- people running around, screaming in the sudden darkness of the sunless sky. The odd beauty of the deep blues and purples of the painted sky were utterly lost upon the poor sould, running frantically toward the sealed palace doors- throwing themselves bodily at the few guards that remained there. "WHY DO YOU NOT LET US ENTER? WHY CAN WE NOT PASS?" came the collective question from the throats of those gathered.
The wall fell down within moments- perhaps the results of some sort of foreign magic of the invaders. Whatever the case, the city wall had been breached as quake after quake rocked the ground. Shouts and screams commingled in the air with war cries and trumpet blasts. Slowly, ever so slowly, the army drew closer to the center of the city, killing and purging as they moved. Somehow, though- there was no fear among those dying... instead, it was a sort of vague relief.
Hidden behind a deepening murkiness, the sun began to shatter.
Automne and Finodborn
A low voice whispered lightly from the shadows within Madam Rahan's shop, the faint smell of incense emerging with it. "Quickly... enter here- make sure that HE does not see you. He of the shadow and the darkness- he of the will and the way." The voice was hushed, but instantly recognizable as that of the old woman (at least to Finodborn, in any event). The smell of perfume and incense filled the shadowy expanse, inviting and somehow repelling at the same time.
Within, the woman sat still, her eyes lowered sorrowfully- the entire place, formally almost ethereal in its elegance was now in ruins- the marvelous objects scattered and broken- the hanging objects torn. The walls themselves were broken, it would seem- from what it was possible to see in the dim candlelight. The frail woman lingered on the only piece of furniture that remained standing- a soft chair in the middle of the room.
Upon her lap rested a crystalline ball- the surface cracked beyond repair- and from the refracted light, the moisture in Lady Rahan's eyes was readily apparent. "It has been done, and the time has come." Her eyes narrowed at Automne, but then softened as Finodborn approached. "It is too soon, some might say, but it has happened nonetheless."
The crystal ball gave an odd flicker of power and was still within the wrinkled hands once more.
Perdita, Syrawenn, Zhavon
The trio was fortunate for the attack, in some ways- there were no guards within, and the door to the outside world swayed easily upon its oiled hinges. Outside, though- the expected sunlight did not stream down upon them... instead, there was only a murkiness- barely perceptible to the group, but still present. Whatever shadow had lurked beneath lurked here too, now- amid screams and fire and war.
The sight was horrifying- a steady line of blue warriors approaching toward the palace, barely impeded by a dwindling stream of the Sultan's men. One corpse in particular caught the group's eye, though- dead, near the gate- what must have been a cannonball lying near his now rather formless face. His hand splayed to his side, and among the fingers the barely detectable glimmer shone from within it...
The vial.
Rendia
Light flowed through and around Rendia. Her paces were not impeded, even as the wall in front of her collapsed in what should have been a fatal blow. Somehow, the bricks managed to avoid her lithe form. The soothing call of Anasis flowed around her, telling her that things would soon be alright. Somehow, the voice didn't seem concerned by the death being dealt around her- nor did those dying. Rendia could see children vaguely smiling as a sword blade would begin to bear down on their tiny forms. There was no fear.
It is as it should be, High Priestess. This is how it has always been, and always will be. Don't fear for them- this place is eternal, and so are they. The voice comforted her, its gentle ministrations somehow soothing despite the atmosphere.
The sun, lost in shadow, called to Rendia. Jaji... do you not adore the Jaji any longer? was the tortured whisper, as the sun began to slowly coalesce from its grandeur to a compacted core, while the army of Anasis slowly marched on.
Zaure and Isabella
The fear rolled through the two empaths, trying desperately to break through the fragile, egg-like shields they had erected. Unfortunately for Zaure, the dropping of the shield to commune with the huddled form on the throne served only to make what would have been a difficult emotion to shield from stronger still. Despite himself, the elf could feel the uncertainty and panic flowing through his veins- just as the comfort extended across the empathic link toward the Sultan.
Sitting up and sniffling, he seemed to want to cling to Zaure- an impossible task, as the guards snapped out of their fearful reverie for long enough to snatch the elflet away, cuffing him sharply upon the face- an odd sensation when combined with the helplessness that drifted through his concious mind. "What do you think you are doing? What sorcery do you work on the Sultan?" The angry eyes were searching, imploring. Zaure's feet were upon the very edge of the throne- facing a very large fall.
The two magi, with their glowing hands, seemed otherwise occupied and did not seem to notice the elf's plight in their attempt to calm the masses within the throne hall. From outside, vague explosions and rumblings could be heard... but they were so distant that it seemed impossible that they could bear any relevence to the situation at hand.
"I'm not quite sure whether she's here," responded Finodborn to Automne. "I don't know whether she can really help us... it's sort of a guess, I think. Though most of my guesses of today have been lucky guesses, and most of my actions have been nothing more but guesses." He looked her in her eyes and smiled. Somehow, he didn't really share her fear - whether it was because the situation was somewhat unreal to him, or because it felt to him like the attack wasn't really directed against him, he didn't know. He still wondered what fate there was for him and Automne, whether they were meant to merely tease each other so that both of them could reach higher peaks, or whether they were in essence opposed to each other.
He put her arm around her shoulder and tried warming her up a bit by rubbing her arm, shoulder and back. he watched her, and he thought he distinguished fear in her air. "How strange it is that I am not afraid - whereas I won't survive for a flicker in a battle." As she put her head on his shoulder, he moved his hand from her shoulder to the sea of chestnut locks, and stroked it's waves gently. He looked inside himself and tried to identify his feelings. He certainly was attracted, but then again, the sword and the shield are attracted to each other too. He decided not to care for the moment.
It was then that he heard the strange voice, and he wondered all of a sudden how it would sound when singing a dirty sailor's song. The thought made him smile, and almost laugh aloud. However, he did immediately follow her instructions, as her tone called for seriousness. His smile quickly disappeared as he saw the state of her establishment.
"What has happened? Are you alright? Do you need any help? He took his hand away from Automne and stepped away from her when madam Rahan gave her the look. "Please tell me what it is I have to do, please give me sight where I am blind. For it feels as if you designated me a path to follow, and I am eager to do so, but I can not find it."
His eyes were drawn to the artefact that flickered with magical energies. It almost looked like a part of the woman's body, and extension of it, so to speak. He stepped even closer, as he had troubles hearing her words clearly.
He put her arm around her shoulder and tried warming her up a bit by rubbing her arm, shoulder and back. he watched her, and he thought he distinguished fear in her air. "How strange it is that I am not afraid - whereas I won't survive for a flicker in a battle." As she put her head on his shoulder, he moved his hand from her shoulder to the sea of chestnut locks, and stroked it's waves gently. He looked inside himself and tried to identify his feelings. He certainly was attracted, but then again, the sword and the shield are attracted to each other too. He decided not to care for the moment.
It was then that he heard the strange voice, and he wondered all of a sudden how it would sound when singing a dirty sailor's song. The thought made him smile, and almost laugh aloud. However, he did immediately follow her instructions, as her tone called for seriousness. His smile quickly disappeared as he saw the state of her establishment.
"What has happened? Are you alright? Do you need any help? He took his hand away from Automne and stepped away from her when madam Rahan gave her the look. "Please tell me what it is I have to do, please give me sight where I am blind. For it feels as if you designated me a path to follow, and I am eager to do so, but I can not find it."
His eyes were drawn to the artefact that flickered with magical energies. It almost looked like a part of the woman's body, and extension of it, so to speak. He stepped even closer, as he had troubles hearing her words clearly.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
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Guest
Automne was surprised at first by his gestures, but they became comforting as he felt her hair. Opposites attract I guess. To her, he was the strings to her wind, the common sense behind her nonsense and the mind in her merry. He seemed like such a clever and enjoyable fellow.
A elderly lady with a voice like creeping smoke and mysterious fortune in her breath. Once Automne was able to see her, giving her an eye like that, Automne quirked an eyebrow and scooched away from Finodborn as he did.
She looked around the sullied shop, everything asunder. Bottles crashed and spilled upon the floor. Prefumes all leaking together in the same filthy, sticky floor. An odd smell, but it had it's pretty properties.
Most things were broken and ripped to shreds except for this 'Madam Rahan'. Even the seer's crystal extension was shattered. Automne began to wonder what had happened here. Had not the invader only just broken in? And how did Madam Rahan make it here?
Finodborn spoke his will and Automne added her two cents in, "Yes, please. There have been so many confusing things in this air. I have many questions some of which are 'What is the song of the sea?' and 'What is going on?'" Automne's questions bubbled up. "And what' happened here? Where is the sun?" Automne had let just a little bit of anger out in those last questions, she wanted to cover her mouth. It wasn't like Madam Rahan had all the answers and shouldn't be treated as such.
"It's just.. that.. please. I'm sorry. But we really need help. Apparently Finodborn here trusts a great deal in your powers. And I, given the circumstances will have to trust in them right now... How can you help Finodborn and I?"
Automne bowed to Madam Rahan, hoping this would improve Madam Rahan's apparent bad first impression of her.
A elderly lady with a voice like creeping smoke and mysterious fortune in her breath. Once Automne was able to see her, giving her an eye like that, Automne quirked an eyebrow and scooched away from Finodborn as he did.
She looked around the sullied shop, everything asunder. Bottles crashed and spilled upon the floor. Prefumes all leaking together in the same filthy, sticky floor. An odd smell, but it had it's pretty properties.
Most things were broken and ripped to shreds except for this 'Madam Rahan'. Even the seer's crystal extension was shattered. Automne began to wonder what had happened here. Had not the invader only just broken in? And how did Madam Rahan make it here?
Finodborn spoke his will and Automne added her two cents in, "Yes, please. There have been so many confusing things in this air. I have many questions some of which are 'What is the song of the sea?' and 'What is going on?'" Automne's questions bubbled up. "And what' happened here? Where is the sun?" Automne had let just a little bit of anger out in those last questions, she wanted to cover her mouth. It wasn't like Madam Rahan had all the answers and shouldn't be treated as such.
"It's just.. that.. please. I'm sorry. But we really need help. Apparently Finodborn here trusts a great deal in your powers. And I, given the circumstances will have to trust in them right now... How can you help Finodborn and I?"
Automne bowed to Madam Rahan, hoping this would improve Madam Rahan's apparent bad first impression of her.
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Zaure
The emotions rolling throughout the room and through the elf hit him doubly hard as he had not truly experienced such emotions that were not his own, or even been in the company of so many beings at the same time, since he died. Zaure nearly doubled over at the pure strength of it all; of panic and uncertainity. The elf attempted to control himself with his thoughts, 'You've been through this before; you couldn't shield on the 4th, remember?' Still, there was not even the momentary respites the deamon had granted the party here, or at least, not until the link with the Sultan was established.
As soon as he heard the sniffling, his heart went out to the poor child, 'He must be absolutely terrified.' Indeed, Zaure could feel that the child was, if not terrified, then certainly greatly distressed. The elf poured all the comfort he could into the bond between the two of them, but was jolted out of his concentration by an odd cuffing across the face. He put a hand to his cheek, 'That hurt...It hurt!' For a reason that was sure to perplex the guards, the elf said that sentence out loud in joy, "That hurt! It hurt!"
Their speech distracted Zaure from his elation, and he raised an eyebrow at them, "I'm trying to comfort a distressed child! That is all, merely soothing his emotions. What reason would I have to do anything else? Do you want me with you?" He addressed his question to the figure on the throne, who, despite the lack of physical contact, he continued to send soothing songs and influences through the aetheric to. Despite his concentration on the link, the helplessness was sinking in, and it was the one emotion that could truly do the elf in: he was struggling with his lack of influence and it was very nearly desparing. He hid it, trying not to feed it back to the child. His outward appearance reflected the particular battle against emotions that he was experiencing inwardly; the elf's garb changed to his Festival garb, white dress, gloves, and small heeled shoes.
At this, Zaure finally noticed the positon his feet were in, and he gulped; if the guards let him go, he was gonna fall, and considering that things could hurt in this odd place, he really didn't want to fall.
As soon as he heard the sniffling, his heart went out to the poor child, 'He must be absolutely terrified.' Indeed, Zaure could feel that the child was, if not terrified, then certainly greatly distressed. The elf poured all the comfort he could into the bond between the two of them, but was jolted out of his concentration by an odd cuffing across the face. He put a hand to his cheek, 'That hurt...It hurt!' For a reason that was sure to perplex the guards, the elf said that sentence out loud in joy, "That hurt! It hurt!"
Their speech distracted Zaure from his elation, and he raised an eyebrow at them, "I'm trying to comfort a distressed child! That is all, merely soothing his emotions. What reason would I have to do anything else? Do you want me with you?" He addressed his question to the figure on the throne, who, despite the lack of physical contact, he continued to send soothing songs and influences through the aetheric to. Despite his concentration on the link, the helplessness was sinking in, and it was the one emotion that could truly do the elf in: he was struggling with his lack of influence and it was very nearly desparing. He hid it, trying not to feed it back to the child. His outward appearance reflected the particular battle against emotions that he was experiencing inwardly; the elf's garb changed to his Festival garb, white dress, gloves, and small heeled shoes.
At this, Zaure finally noticed the positon his feet were in, and he gulped; if the guards let him go, he was gonna fall, and considering that things could hurt in this odd place, he really didn't want to fall.
Last edited by Zaure on Sun Apr 11, 2004 3:45 am, edited 1 time in total.