Ye ol' Bazaar

Guest · Post by **Guest** » Tue May 25, 2004 5:35 am

The next set events that took place were awfully confusing and exceedingly rapid. It all left Automne a bit stunned and confused. The first that had happened was more bizarre than anything that had happened to her in a long long time. Her fingers had begun to dance along her flute, she did not dare add her breath to these notes for fear of what might happen. Then, Finodborn had followed suit and Syrawenn had begun to sing with some voice that was not hers. As a short time passed she put her instrument away, fighting the alien movements that her hands wanted make. Then to her slight surprise a person had made it's way to Madam Rahan's place. Automne had gripped her whip in caution but released it when she noticed that the person was indeed a scared and panicked young woman. And now a jumbled story was pressed upon Finodborn and herself, perhaps not so much Syrawenn because she seemed to know the girl already.

But now the girl was making movements to leave, in fear and in caution. Automne released Finodborn's arm and walked speedily over to the troubled young lady. She placed a hand on her shoulder, "Calm down," She managed to give Zhavon a warm smile, whether or not Zhavon could see it in the dim was another story. "Shhh. It's alright, don't leave. It's best you stay here. At least we're all here together. You are not the only one that is tied in this mess."Automne tried to give encouraging words although she herself did not fully understand 'the mess'. "It's a somewhat long story but it seems we're all in danger and tied into some line of fate here." She pointed to her flute which now dangled on her instrument's bandolier not knowing whether or not she would have to explain it's relevance to Zhavib. "For now we need to get stuff straight. Okay, here goes my explanation: Hi, I'm Automne. You must be an ally because you are a friend of Syrawenn here and we're assuming that you are also apart of this whole divine toss. Okay, here this light you have must also be important. I mean, look how it sticks out, how it shines so pretty like that. We need to find out what part we all play and how to straighten it all out!" Automne thought maybe she was just ranting in her confusion, so she just stood up and pointed to Syrawenn, "Your turn." She seemed to know a lot more than Automne herself so it was probably best she tried to make some sense. She then looked at Zhavon, "I'll go stand outside and keep watch for any 'dark men' that may come about. It's best not to be taken by surprise." She gave Zhavon a kind pat on the shoulder and walked briskly, but quietly, outside. In her hand she had out her whip incase something bad came around the dark corners.

Post by **Syrawenn** » Thu May 27, 2004 3:28 pm

"My turn, eh?" Somehow Syrawenn had found her own voice back with the unexpected entry of their newest dreamwalker. She hugged Zhavon and pulled her to her feet again. "I wondered where you had gone. But sounds to me like our noxarious friend has shown his face to you. See, there is this thing-person called Noxie -pardon, Nox- and as far as I can see he wants to step through a crack in dreamworld here to get into the real world. Now, what kind of magic that is, haven't got a clue, but it can be done obviously. I think that the vial is the light that hurts him, cause it burned him, you say? Cool. That's what I wanted to hear. Now what's this babble about a woman with a seeing stone? You guys got any idea what that seeing stone is?"

Before Zhavon had a chance to rise and flee the scene, Syrawenn put her arms around the trembling girl and kept her close, despite her own very small stature. "Hold it right there, girl. You ain't going nowhere unless you really want to make life easy for our shadowman. You're gonna stay here and we're not gonna let ourselves be killed that easily. For some reason I think we got more than a small fighting chance here together. We're dreamwalkers, just like him. We're here for a reason and I'll be damned if I forego on that reason and simply let him walk all over me! You with me?" She looked at the others, her eyes blazing with conviction.

Finodborn · Post by **Finodborn** » Thu May 27, 2004 3:34 pm

"Off course I know what that seeing stone is... It's this orb I tried to revive earlier, without success. It belonged to madam Rahan, the owner of this fine place and also the one who told me what I know about this world and the one who gave me this strange instrument in the first place..."

Guest · Post by **Guest** » Fri May 28, 2004 1:37 am

"I am with ya Syrawenn." Automne spoke very softly, hiding in the shadows, right beside Madam Rahan's shop. She could still hear what went on but did not want to be heard by anything that could be nearby so she spoke her words not completely sure if they could hear her.

"Hmmm. That light is our weapon? How strange, I wonder if Syrawenn is a weapon.. much like Finodborn and I." She shuddered, evern though it was cold out this was not the reason. How eerie it was that SHE was a weapon of destruction. If she played that ghost tune that made her fingers play on their own who knew what would happen. Then again curiosity bit at her... what would happen? No. No. Best not to find that out. Automne tightened the strap that held her flute and continued to stare into the darkness.

Finodborn, if you really aren't of this dream. And are in fact real... I wonder if I could meet you someday. What do you think? She smiled, how scary that would be to meet a figure from your dream. Maybe she could ask him later if she had the chance, which was doubtful due to the scary rate at which things were moving.

Zhavon Mikhalrian · Post by **Zhavon Mikhalrian** » Fri May 28, 2004 2:44 am

Wrapped in Syrawenn's arms, guarded and perhaps secure for the first time since the darkness descended, the girl calmed. She fell silent, as well, eyes half closed as she allowed herself to be lulled into her peaceful wakefulness by the sounds of their voices as they explained to her the situation. It was obvious from their chatter that they knew far more about what was going on than she did, and because of that, she was inclined to stay, despite what the risk might be. The dark man, Nox, was the name Syrawenn had given it, was going to come back for her, she just knew it.

Naturally, when they progressed to the conversation about weapons and the like, she had no idea what they were talking about. She merely blinked at them in her dumb confusion, still clutching for the life of her to the vial of blinding light. Released, she did not fight them or try to escape the house again, preferring to stay, as they wished, with them. It was only in concern for them, that she had tried to flee in the first place. The death of innocents would not be on her hands, if she could help it.

"He will come soon... When he is seducing the beautiful woman from the market place, he will come to find me, I think... He said he would..." Zhavon's voice lowered to a bare whisper, frightened beyond recognition. "But what will we do, what can we do, when he comes?"

Guest · Post by **Guest** » Sat May 29, 2004 3:21 am

Rendia

The beautiful woman with the aching stare and the penetrating eyes nodded, and Rendia could feel the odd power of being reflected within the glassy depths. There was something perfect and poignant in this moment- something special and glorious that made the darkness and death of the bazaar fade away for Rendia's spirit. The woman held the very body of Rendia captive within her stare- the opalescence of her gown and the periwinkle glory of her loose veil shimmering with a light despite the darkness within the city.

"You ask for mercy daughter- as I know you should," Anasis whispered, her voice quavering and tremolous. The water raged now, swirling about Rendia's waist by this time, although it seemed not to touch Anasis- rather it flowed about her and around her- or perhaps through her, it was impossible to tell. In any case, the beautiful young woman extended a single hand to Rendia, her light blue lips parting as she continued to speak.

"Then you can come with me as I leave this place, should you wish. You can abandon the etheriality of dreams and forsake this place." She smiled sadly. "You can awaken with only thoughts of joy in your heart and remember only what you desire." As Anasis spoke, the waters stilled- as if in respect for her authority over their collective flow.

"This is the mercy I offer you, Priestess. This is the choice you have. Leave with me from this place, or remain and perhaps save it. It is not an easy decision, but is my mercy that I offer in exchange for devotion and belief."

"What is your choice, daughter of Amun Rah?"

Isabella

The demon faltered, but only for a moment, as Isabella spoke her words. The eyes that were so alien to Andolin's own were suddenly aflame with a brightness that belied their mortality. It was only the slightest lapse- but Isabella sensed it, and in that moment of detection, the demon knew that he had ceded more to the dark haired woman than he had intended. It showed that her words bore some truth- some ringing or concordance with whatever he believed, and that was a victory in and of itself. The implications weren't lost on the demon, but he gave no indication that he was fazed by them.

"You talk a lot, Muchislian Rose- you speak more than you should. It will be the sweetest victory to watch your lips part again in your familiar climax before you die- only to utter not a sound before your eyes and soul are darkened by the madness and inverse passion of the nether." The creature grinned evilly, the blade glittering reflectively off of the white teeth- seemingly sharper than a humans might be. "This blade shall be your ending, whore, and yet you continue to speak in poetics and affirmations. The time for those has long passed from your fate."

The demon took a step further, raising the blade high with a swiftness that surpassed that of even the most skilled assassin- and Isa could only watch as the unholy star fell. Lower it slid, threatening at the throat of its victim, but skipping past with what seemed impossible lethargy for such a swift strike. With nothing more than a whump, it sank into the soft flesh of the target's stomach- releasing a light flow of blood that quickened into a torrent, the blood forming a pool around the pair's legs. It was a moment before Isabella realized that she felt no pain- there was no blow... there was only the cold emptiness of the mock temple.

Taking a step back, the demon grinned savagely. "This is your ending, Muchislian." With that, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell- the long knife in his stomach protruding from his cloaked back, even as the blood continued to pour around him, soaking swiftly up Isabella's garments- with a speed that defied common sense.

The red fluid began to sink into the skin of her feet- pouring through the material of her shoes easily- and it was then that the woman understood what had happened. Even as the blood touched the olive skin, the glorious sensation of taint overwhelmed her mind, the lore of shadows filling her mind suddenly. There was no light in the room, but she could see nonetheless- the darkness was suddenly a meager barrier to Isabella, nothing more than a word.

Shadows whispered secrets into her ears, as the blood of the demon merged with her own, and her ears positively roared with the power she suddenly wielded- the power over the shadow of this bazaar. She knew everything that Nox knew, and the demoness could feel her thoughts turn toward the woman from the alleyway- the woman who had the vile yet. Also upon her mind was the Sultan- who she was well aware had the power to slay her, if he willed it.

Affixed to a moment of choice- a crossroads- the darken blood within her veins coursed and waited.

((OOC: You are now a demon- I apologize for the brevity, but- ah... timetable. Also, I trust you are responsible enough to know the limitations and powers you now possess, my dear. Have fun.))

Finodborn, Automne, Zhavon, Syrawenn

From beyond the door of Madam Rahan's home, the gathered quartet could hear the raging of something- a sort of grim surging, as if the ocean lapped at the city streets. The noise crescendoed for a moment, before stopping, leaving only the grim silence of the bazaar air. Something or someone had stopped the tide- but whatever had done so was not clear, and certainly made no attempt to reveal itself. The song of the instruments struck up again, but fainter this time, although all present heard it, and Zhavon could feel the rumbling male baritone flowing from Syrawenn's lungs.

Only Zhavon could feel the vibration of the vile in her hand- the way it shifted subtly as the notes formed themselves from nothingness. The music was a ghost of itself- a memory of something long passed and ancient. It lingered for only one iteration, and then faded- and with it, a sigh of breath flowed through the room, as if an aged woman lay upon her deathbed, the ballad ending in time with her last breath.

Post by **Syrawenn** » Mon May 31, 2004 1:21 pm

Syrawenn nodded at Automne. "Thanks for the reinforcement." She grinned and slowly let go of the girl in her arms. "I don't really care for whom he or she or it is coming. In the end his goal is to leave this realm anyway, wanna bet? So maybe he needs the dreamwalkers to accomplish that. Boy, is he gonna get an ugly surprise! Okay, listen up."

She stepped closer to the others, pulling Zhavon with her as not to loose sight of the frightened girl. "You got this cute sunny vial and somehow it reacts together with those thingies they hold." The girl pointed at Finodborn and Automne. "Now before we kinda figured that somehow there are two sides fighting here and they want us to make a stand for either one of em, but in the meantime Noxious is finding his own fun! So instead of choosing either one of the allmighty forces that form this weird dreamplace, we decided to band together and make a dash for Noxie's legs before he accomplishes whatever he wants to do!"

To Syrawenn it all made perfect sense. As usual it was very hard however to get her rambling thoughts into coherent sentences. "Now, since we got three nice thingies and uh...some weirdo voice inside of me, we can make some very nice music and it really seems to be doing something, don't you agree? I mean, I felt it, you felt it, I can see you all did by the look on your face. So what I want to do is make sure that this is not some kind of fluke and we can call this music whenever we need it. So...let's practice instead of sitting around for it to happen!"

Right then the music started up again and prevented the girl from laughing. Through the strange voice that used her lungs to get heard, Syrawenn tried very hard to feel what this was like in an attempt to be able to copy it when the time came. The faintness of the song did not appeal to her and something urged her to try and get it more alive, using her arms and body to reinforce whatever it was she was singing and to add her enthusiasm to it to give it more body.

Gia as Rendia · Post by **Gia as Rendia** » Wed Jun 02, 2004 5:36 am

Rendia slumped slightly before the beauty of Anasis and the subconscious strain of disciplining herself to nothing but a thought, a reason. Taking strength and breath by a calm she did not know existed she answered with only a moments pause.

"Wherever you are, Anasis, there is mercy. If you are with me, it does not matter where I am. If you are going, I cannot live away from you, the source of life. I would not forget anything you have let me experience. I seek only you. Therefore, if you have mercy on this city as well, I have no fear. If I stay by your grace, I will be in your hands. if I leave by your strength, your will be done.

Anasis, if you want, you can save them. Not me," Rendia declared. "I cannot choose to be apart from you. But if you leave me behind, it will be because of your purpose and with the strength I need. You know all this before I speak it. Search me and try me, my goddess," and strangely, Rendia was overcome in a distant way. As she felt a tear slide down her cheek, she whispered, "I just... am so glad to be near you." And that was the complete desire and purpose of Rendia's heart.

Isabella Florentina · Post by **Isabella Florentina** » Wed Jun 02, 2004 4:18 pm

Isabella's eyes narrowed as she sensed she had touched the truth, filling this in the deep recesses of her mind for future reference. Twilight. Balance. It was the core to a solution... yet the problem was starting to ellude her as real life no longer held any relevance. There was only the cycle of dark and light right here in the dream.

With the swift incomprehensible action of the daemon the dark lady was splattered in blood. She gasped yet felt nothing but the hot trickle past her fingers. Her clothes, once a deep burgundy were taking up a scarlet hue from the ground up with incredible speed, the brightness denying its dark origins. Then the chill entered her.

Isabella for some reason had always associated daemons with hotness... blazing fires, unbearable heat. Now she understood that the Nether contained nothing but the coldest, chilliest touch, numbing out all feeling. Perhaps this was why the creatures of darkness surrounded themselves with objects of fire and passion, to warm that which was impossible to warm, to escape this inevitable curse.

With the chill came the knowledge. Nox. The daemons name was Nox, and he had reason to fear the Sultan even though he was but a child, and so should she. Yet it was worth it to gain the Sultans vial. Isa regretted having parted with it in the first place. Her mind filled with the image of the long slender crystal with the dragons claw, its moonlight contents causing little rainbows. Even as a memory it held a seductive call. So that is what it is.

Isabella's eyes glowed red in the dark as she tried to reach for something familiar.. the Love & Joy that was Pan. Yet it remained outside her grasp even though Pan's Blood went as far as the eyes could reach.. the same blood that had impregnated her dress, her entire body. It did not free her, only brought her pain and pleasure. Her body quivered of desire for that one thing she could not have.. the Light, captured in a little crystal vial. She must have it.. she must restore the balance that was lost and fill herself.

Time to test her new found powers. Isa mentally stretched as if awaking from a deep sleep, feeling the tingling of the tainted energy running through her body. It tasted of the purest passion, deep and dark, yet somehow without the warmth that only the Light could bring; the warmth she craved. Isabella started to walk out of the place, almost stumbling, willing the walls of the illusion to give way, trying to find the door that Nox had used and through their linked memory knowing its exact location.

Soon enough, guided by her own panting desire, Isabella found herself in the square where all other strangers to this dream world had gathered. The vial shone like a beacon, spreading its light. A predatory smile spread over Isa's beautiful face as she wandered lazily towards the group, her velvet dress now the bright scarlet of fresh blood instead of the deep burgundy color of wine it had been before, forming an eerie contrast with the deep black of her hair. "There you are," the Rose purred in that particular Muchislian lilt, "how kind of you to guard it while I took care of Nox. Now, let's end this. Hand me the vial." As she said it Isabella released her darkest senses of mindcraft, spreading a desire to obey her, crave the control only she could offer, the solution that she alone was the vessel of. She fixed Zhavon with the red glow of her eyes.

OOC: Giving me powers like that.. are you quite mad??? :twisted:

Guest · Post by **Guest** » Wed Jun 02, 2004 11:47 pm

It had all been reasonable calm, Automne nodded understandably with Syrawenn's words. She leaned near the door frame listening... not really having anything to say. That was until she heard the footsteps of something coming closer.

"Guys, hush!" She withdrew her whip once again and turned outwards towards the door. Staring at this... woman? that shone despite the blocked moonlight. Bright red was dripping from the velvet dress which acted like a sponge. "Too late," Automne worded.

The lady spoke with chilling but smooth words like silk the made shivers run down her spine. She spoke of the vial! Suddenly the lady did something to Zhavon that she could not fully understand, but it did not matter. It seemed that Zhavon and even the others were in danger.

Automne stepped forward, "I don't know what you are... but you're a danger to me and my friends. Be gone!" She lashed out the whip not wanting to make long and heroic intros. She swung her arm forward, the rawhide lash flipping over her back in a straight and dangerous line aimed for this demon-lady's torso. Automne prayed that her target would be struck with at least some pain. I know not of this woman's magic, I just pray i don't fall victim!

Zhavon Mikhalrian · Post by **Zhavon Mikhalrian** » Thu Jun 03, 2004 1:06 am

While Syrawenn spoke, Zhavon stayed near here, having nothing to contribute to this conversation. They spoke of things like music and instruments and other topics that were just foreign to her already abused ears. They all seemed rather certain this this was just a dream, but she couldn't quite be sure of that herself. Though, it might explain why she came to the conclusion of Isabella's name so easily.

As though speaking of the woman was a direct route for conjuration, Automne was shushing them, someone was approaching. Judging from the way the elf seemed so worried, it wasn't good. Zhavon moaned, thinking only that it could be Nox, having made good on his promise to track her down and deal with her later. Fingers tightened about the vial, her grip so intense her muscles ramped in protest.

Chills ran down her spine at Isabella's voice, her words directed at the girl alone, it would seem. At the sight of the woman's mutated, glowing blood eyes, Zhavon looked away, burying her face into Syrawenn's shoulder. Automne was saying something, the words were lost in the sudden swamping desire to give the vial over to Isabella. "That's not me! That's not me!" Her cries were purely subvocal, echoing between the fragile link Isabella had forged between them in attempts to subvert the girl.

She whimpered, falling to her knees, the vial now clutched to her chest, slender frame curling about it to hide and guard its light. "You're not Isabella, you're not, not anymore..." Was it any good to name the woman for some memory that filtered through her mind... A dream of another time, when she knew the woman, at least vaguely, at least enough to know her name. She admired the Muchislian, at some point. Was that a dream, was this a dream?

"Dearest gods and goddesses, please protect me... She cannot have this..." It was a desperate plea thrown into the tempest of conflicting emotions and thoughts. Everything she could discern was telling her to give the vial over to Isabella, save instinct. Instinct rang pure and loud like a clarion, clamouring above the storm of Isabella's infectious mindcraft. Zhavon clung to instinct like a lifeline, wrapping in on herself to do what she could to keep Isabella from reigning supreme over her own mind.

Isabella Florentina · Post by **Isabella Florentina** » Thu Jun 03, 2004 6:09 pm

Isabella arched her back as the whip touched her, not in pain but in pleasure, groaning softly "Aah.. not now, my lovely.. you will have to wait your turn. All in good time." Without a second thought Isa wrapped her in the deepest darkest despair, leaving the girl to deal with emotional turmoil as a means of distraction.

She kept her eyes on Zhavon and made sure that her powers of persuasion did not let up for even a flicker "Come now.. Zhavon," Isa murmurred enticingly, for some reason she was sure that was the girls name "You know you want to. What do we care about the nightmare these people are in... we have our own nightmare to take care of. Hand me the vial, and all will end well. We Roses shall rule supreme, controling our destiny once more." Isabella stepped forward, reaching out for the bowl of Light, trying to corrupt Zhavons feeling of self, the last barriere.

Finodborn · Post by **Finodborn** » Thu Jun 03, 2004 10:34 pm

It didn't require finodborn's more refined senses to see the darkness this... being emitted. Not the darkness of the velvet night sky, not even the darkness of the cruel gods of the mori'quessir, no, an unnatural, otherworldly black, typical for dreams, as Finodborn was quite confident that this foul presence couldn't exist in the real world.

Perhaps it was because of this belief that he dared to undertake action, for 'it' looked not only black as charcoal, but also very powerful. Furthermore, she didn't really seem to focus on him. As he tried to resist the influence of her impregnating gaze and voice, he attempted to pull his dagger without being noticed. He was going to jump it and slit it's throat. Sure, he wasn't a warrior at all, but plain cutting couldn't be that difficult, now, could it?

Guest · Post by **Guest** » Thu Jun 03, 2004 11:05 pm

Zhavon, Syrawenn, Isabella, Finodborn, Automne

The vial of light seemed to shy away from the demoness, rolling conciously within Zhavon's hand. The light increased in intensity- sending rolling waves of its irridescent glow to awash the room of Madam Rahan, reflecting of the water that had began to pour into the room- the merest trickle, but enough that the fragile object reflected off of it- a natural opponent to the powerful thing that now stood in their midst. Indeed, the light was repulsive to Isabella- almost as repulsive as touching one's hand to a hot forge. However, something within her told her that only with this vial could she defeat the boy-king of this place- and only with this small trinket, seemingly unworthy of attention would she cast this realm into darkness.

Only with this thing of light could she banish the sunrise of the next day- and thus slip from the bonds of this world to the next. Somehow- perhaps via the slightest breeze that echoed still through the ruined sanctuary, the others too knew what was at stake here. The old woman was invisible in her presence to all but Isabella- but she was here still, seated deep within the shadows at the far end of the room, as she always had been. Her power was nearly gone, with the orb that Nox had broken- and Isabella knew that the soothsayer would play no further part in this story, except to perhaps be the last tragic soul lost to the netherworld- and Rahan did nothing now. She had done all that she could, and the fate of the Bazaar depended now upon only the mortals gathered here- and on the one transcendant that stood yet at the wall.

As Isabella extended her hand toward Zhavon, the gentle tendrils of mindcraft and shadow following their path toward the woman's heart, Finodborn struck her- somehow unseen in her focus upon the crystalline moonshine. But no warrior was the elven bard- no man of action or strength. His dagger cut her, yes- blood flowing down her skin, dripping from the deep within her shoulder, sliding down her seductive back, some of it sliding onto Finodborn himself.

The taint of the demon blood raced to his heart quickly- although he was not as given to it as Isabella was. Still, the dark ministration of Nox began within the elf's mind, whispering of the power it could lend him if he would just stand down... toss away his silly instrument... for there was surely no worth to it... just step aside and allow things to run their course... so continued the voice in an endless mantra of discontent and malice. Isabella herself could hear every word that echoed through his mind- for they were linked now, surely. He was a part of her as surely as she was a part of him.

Zhavon could feel the soft and gentle whisper brushing her mind, and it felt as if she was holding a frigtened puppy- afraid to be given to its new master... and the vial spun and undulated in her hand. It wanted to remain with her and these others... but the demoness's words were so tempting and believable... and it would be so easy to lay down the vial and leave from here forever. It would be easy to abandon this place.

Syrawenn felt the anger of the baritone voice within her chest- the multitude of dead souls suddenly attempting a coup within her heart and mind, calling out against the vile creature that stood here. It had claimed their lives, and they prayed within the brown haired woman's soul- asking only for vengeance and justice; asking if the light could redeem them from shadow. Her eyes became clouded, and Syrawenn again saw the deaths of the innocents- the shadow slaying them hidden behind the eyes of the soldiers as surely as it lurked behind the eyes of this red-clad woman. Even the sun's fall was seen within her eyes- a serpent of shadow wrapping brightness with darkness... and then she was back in the present, uncertain of the time that had passed. The faintest echo of the song called within her, but was almost undetectable... weakened now by the proximity of this plague- this vile curse.

Automne felt the instrument calling to her- the passion of the creature setting something off within its smooth surface. The light of the vial only served to amplify this insistence, but it was obvious that only she could hear it- for this dark woman did not even look in her direction, despite the strike of the whip. She heard something outside- the whisper, perhaps- of the sun that had gifted her with powers... of the old woman, powerless yet not incapable. There was redemption possible now, for them all- for this place. The only question that remained was how. The instrument did not answer her questions, but it vibrated visibly... the sun in shadow calling to the elven woman, even as the shadow itself called to the contaminated Finodborn.

Redemption was not past yet- not for any here gathered. There was still that chance; a hope that lingered yet upon the blessings of the twin deities of this place.

Isabella, for her part, felt the pain and somehow... ecstasy? But the demon who lurked within whispered words of confidence into her ear- for there exists no elf who can resist the Taint unaided.

The distraction ended for the moment, the sound of distant rain echoed upon the horizon- the water at the edges of the bazaar continuing its endless surge from the distant lake. Only one word reached Isabella's darkened mind as she stood still, although none other heard it.

Anasis.

Rendia

Anasis smiled upon her servant sadly. "My power is borne of faith- as surely as yous is. We are connected now, even within this place of shadow. Know this- that I am here with you, even as my presence fades away." The goddess ran a gentle hand through Rendia's hair, her sapphire eyes reflecting a light that did not exist upon the mortal plane. "There is much yet to think on- much yet to consider, and some things that do not concern this place." She seemed distracted now, her eyes ever upon the heavens. "I act through my followers- I do not claim or force them to do what I make them. They are privy to choice- and if that is my undoing, than it shall be a glorious end."

Her voice was exultant now, and she looked one last time upon her follower, the waters now at her neck. "You ask for mercy- and you ask for grace and presence within your words. This I grant- for I do think this place can be rescued." With a surge, light flowed into Rendia, and she felt filled- with grace and glory and the love of Anasis. She had become a vessel in the truest sense- for the Lady of the Lake was now part of her, even if it was only within this small and troubled realm. Anasis looked fondly heavenword, to the darken shadow of Uphuron's corpse, and then she was gone- a twinkle in the skies all that remained.

Do your deeds as you would do them, priestess- bring mercy yet into this world of gloom.

From up above, a soft rain fell upon Rendia, alone in the shadowy bazaar- with the certainty that she must save it, by the grace of her goddess. A light from within the city caught her attention- the surging water no longer a hassle, for she moved through it as surely as if it were air. Only a single word rang clear in her mind- not even a word; a syllable. A token utterance of darkness and dread.

Nox.

Gia as Rendia · Post by **Gia as Rendia** » Fri Jun 04, 2004 6:13 am

Rendia did not shudder or shut down now. The words... the words were beautiful. They were perfect. Rendia would remember them for the rest of her life.

This becoming one was different from the previous invasion. It was if she was more so herself then she ever thought she could be. And the connection with her goddess, the certainty, the mercy, glory, grace, and peace was all she had ever wanted.

Thus the Nox had lost it's power over her. The Nox was something Anasis had declared conquerable. And now, Anasis would go with her as she went forth. She had no more fear. And therefore, she was not subject to emotional shut down or fragile mood swings of any kind. Only a supreme faith and confidence in the power of mercy. Upon ceasing to hold her feelings in a vice of denial, she had peace, and allowed herself to feel the wonder, and with it came a mourning she silently embraced. She took a deep, strange breath in this new existence, smiled sadly, and looked to the city with new eyes.

Where is the invader of my soul, the betrayer and counterfeit of the goodness of Anasis? The one who brought this... the purpose is not known to me, but the malice is evident in the flood of falsehood.

Rendia had no trouble remembering to stand up straight. With calm, she simply did.

"In the name of Anasis, you are no longer welcome in this city. Leave, take your weakness with you, and do not return," she addressed the only wrong doer she currently knew.

Then she walked forward, towards the light she had seen. Unconcerned... filled with grief for the dying city she would soon face, certain that whatever she found, Anasis was greater. And she felt she would find more.

Finodborn · Post by **Finodborn** » Fri Jun 04, 2004 11:00 am

Finodborn stood beside the demoness that was now sister of his soul, his back turned to the others. He turned around, his heart battering his thorax and his mind poisoned by intrusive thoughts. He looked at the dagger in his hand, dripping with foul blood, as if he'd just discovered it. Then he looked at Zhavon, who'd fallen to her knees and who was trying to disobey orders of his sister and him... She looked like an easy prey. The vial seemed to be calling him too, though it induced him with pain at the same time. He peered in it's light, his eyes half closed.

A tear crept in the corner of his eye. The blood that had captured his heart hurt a lot, and so did the cut he had brought to his soulsister. Yet the tear was of a more simple origin: the light of the vial was too bright for his eyes, just as the sun had been earlier this dream. He remembered briefly how it had engulfed him. Then he noticed the instrument in his pocket vibrating against his leg. Surely, it was futile, and he had to reject it... but on the other hand it seemed so precious? Had he not been looking for it in several worlds? He too could see Madam Rahan now, and she struck him as a ridiculous character, pathetic even, and while he felt like defiling her, he felt a little bit of the friendship he'd had for her. So strange these feelings are... he thought, while the voice in his head was giving easier, more clear advise. But somehow the associations brought back to life Finodborn's will to resist. However, it was perfectly clear that he wouldn't be a match for any demon.

He bended over and cut the tendons of his ankles. As he fell down to the ground, bleeding like a newly slaughtered pig, he thought Ha! At least this body won't be walking around hurting anybody. The pain was driving him mad now, not so much the pain of cut sinew, but the pain of the demon raping his soul.
He dropped the knife, delved up the vibrating instrument with shaky hands and clinged to it as a last beacon against this evil that had taken hold of him. It disgusted him, but it soothed some of his pain too. Now what to do? Throw it away? Keep it?

OOC: Aden, I hope I haven't made to much of an assumption to think he'd been able to cut his own ankles. If you disagree, let me know, I'll edit. It's just... I'm new to this possession thing, y'know?

Post by **Syrawenn** » Fri Jun 04, 2004 1:39 pm

Syrawenn saw the woman-demon and was ready to throw some weird remark at her to distract the thing coming at them when she saw Finodborn react. "Fin, NO!" She yelled, for some reason horribly afraid of what would happen if the blood of this vile creature touched any of them.
She was too late and watched in disgust as indeed the trickle touched Fin. As sure as she had been before, now she was completely convinced that whatever happened, blood should have no part in it.

Too late. As usual...congratulations. Another one down. And now back to our continued story of 'how to end the world in ten easy lessons!'.

"Damn that impatient man!" She mumbled and turned to face the woman. "Hey, Noxygirl. Still wanna play? Funny, somehow I'm sure you died in another weird dream. Some vessel you chose." Vague memories of a scream, of blood in a garden invaded her thoughts. The girl pulled Zhavon behind her, making sure not to stare into the demon's eyes. For some reason that seemed like a very bad idea.

Don't look in it's eyes, think of uh..spinach and do something useful!

Spinach, spinach, spinach...The voices spoke again, unexpectedly stronger than before. For a moment Syrawenn relished the thought of these stronger ones possibly being able to do something. Right then her self-preservation kicked in and she held on to that part of herself for dear sanity -or what was left of that.

Vengeance...justice....oh guys, if only you knew how much I agree! She reasoned with the angry mob. I want that light to shine just as much as you do, but then I need your help!

The scenery changed and the desperate girl found herself thrown back into the horrors of before...death....dying all around her...people calling out, fear, terror...terror that would become all too real if she did not get a hold of herself RIGHT NOW!

"ALRIGHT!" Syrawenn thundered over those voices. "Alright, let's go for it!" Instead of letting them overwhelm her, she took the lead as a general would in battle. "Automne, Zhavon...music, please!" She directed the girls to the instruments they had used before to make that lovely music. Somehow she doubted Fin would be able to do anything, but just in case there was anything of him left, she used the tidbit of information she had gathered moments before...."Heya, Fin! Wake up and see what happens, mister! Wanna loose that cutey-dreamgirl here forever or do you wanna meet her in real life? Well, GET UP and do something about it! Music, maestro!"

With those final words Syrawenn allowed the voices to pour out in all their strength. She lend her own desperation to their forces, her own tears and cries for vengeance when she had found herself alone in the night. She directed her attention to the vial first, hoping to spark it up with the new musical violence. She turned to Automne, urging her to give it all right here and now. She even faced Fin, although seeing him like this hurt her much more than expected. On and on the determined little girl led the voices and the music to unite everything they had in this instant to blow this shadow-creature away with everything that opposed it's forces.

She grabbed Automne by the arm, taking Zhavon in the other arm, standing strong in body and soul to give the darkness in front of them a nice front-row seating to what Syrawenn believed to be Light in all it's aspects. That the strength for this came from desperation and anger was of no consequence. She was willing to pay later, but right now this was the energy they needed to bring everything together in a last attempt at illumination.

"Let there be LIGHT!"

Guest · Post by **Guest** » Sat Jun 05, 2004 3:34 am

It was all sucha rush, the pain and desperation that Isabella had relinquished upon her had broken her down. It had lasted long enough to keep her down while awful things happened. She could do nothing but remain still while she fought with her own conscious, trying to shake the grim feeling. The feeling passed as she felt the flute vibrate with life... calling for the sun and sea? Who knew? It gave no clues... she only could feel one thing. Cleanse... I feel it... Automne knew what had to be done.

The next thing she saw left her painfully speechless, the heroic move that Finodborn made spelled tragedy for his heart and body. She saw with tearing eyes as the demoness and newly converted Finodborn stood side by side. NO! She reached out wanting to help but still her legs would not cooperate.

Finodborn managed to cut his ankles in a swift movement. She began to cry, it was horrible. NO DAMMIT! NO! NO pain! NO FEAR!... Her selfcritisism did no good. The tears ran freely. No one could seperate her from the darkness, it was like she didn't matter... her flute vibrated with determination beside her.

Syrawenn lifted her off the ground dragging her back to Zhavon, somewhat freeing her stubborn and stiff knees. Things were so distant now... She could stand. Syrawenn was screaming something about "Light" or something about "Music"... Music... Her eyes flashed towards her the flute which had played battle against something else... Finodborn. Zhavon and the others needed her, but her instinct came first. He needs help... if this flute is good for anything let it bring him back. Let is cleanse his heart or something! There must be some redemption in this sick and sallow land!

She made to run towards him, unleashing her arm from Syrawenn's and tried to move forward. Her knees protested and she fell onto her legs, she felt holes in the green velvet of her dress where her skin met... wet?... ground. This definitely seemed no dream, she could feel the stinging. She struggled to crawl next to him, avoiding his blood which ran in crimson trails all around them. "come back," she spoke weakly at first. "Don't do this to yourself!" She grabbed his shirt. "You can come back!" The tears started again as her flute began to bounce and thrash even more in the bandolier that held it captive. She put her hand on his head, feverish no doubt.

Her heart raced. Where was the purity in all this? Or was all soaked in shadow and blood. She paused, biting her lip in panic and unsureness. Then, she bent down over him, chestnut braid falling clumsilly on his chest ad her long bangs tickled his cheeks. "Finodborn, we have to make it out... everyone else too." She closed her eyes and kissed him on the lips lightly, chilly lips fluttered over his lightly. "You can make it back, you can play." A tear fell from her cheek onto his. She heard Syrawenn's cry about music and then finally. "LET THERE BE LIGHT!" She knew what to do at that moment.

In a liquid movement she swiped up her flute and lips swung near the airhole.. the music that played within her, memorized notes in her fingers of some ghost tune riddles their way over her knuckles and wrists and forth came the lovely and flowing, yet simple, melody of promise. Was this the Song of the Sea? Her mind blanked out and her hands began to dance over the silver metal and music made its way into the stiffling air around them.

Zhavon Mikhalrian · Post by **Zhavon Mikhalrian** » Mon Jun 07, 2004 9:21 am

Swamped by conflicting emotions, Zhavon remained in some sort of daze on her knees. The vial was roiling in her hand as if in reaction to her indecision or to Isabella's appearance, to something. It didn't want to go with the demon woman and that's all the girl knew. In the sanctum her mind was supposed to be, she was fighting every thought that told her to just give the vial over to Isabella. It wasn't her, it wasn't, it wouldn't be... It was a mantra, over and over in her head, trying to cling to what she knew to be herself. The battle was an uphill scale the entire way, and Zhavon couldn't even see herself getting anywhere.

Hauled up to her feet by Syrawenn, her arm clasped tightly, she hadn't even known of Finodborn's fate. Music penetrated through the emotional battlefield embroiled in her mind. The strains of flute and voices broke through like a clarion, infusing her with one more feeling to battle with those Isabella was infecting her with. Hope? A tiny little seed of hope as though they could get through this entire nightmare if only they could hold on just a little longer. After all, she clung to a vial of light like a life line.

Syrawenn was summoning the light, that's all Zhavon could tell. Clumsily, her fingers loosened on the vial. Her opposite set of digits plucked the stopper from its place, hands shaking badly in the effort to hold Isabella's insistence at bay for just a few more burns, at least long enough to release the light as Syrawenn wished.

Isabella Florentina · Post by **Isabella Florentina** » Tue Jun 08, 2004 9:41 pm

Far, far away Isabella felt the pain entering her shoulder, a strange mixture of pain and extasy once again washing over and she groaned out loud, her eyes half closing, full red lips slightly parted. Even as her blood slid down her back she could feel Finodborn being added to the link. Welcome to this dark dream brother... let temptation be your guide.

Of course the biggest temptation was the light that even now resisted her reaching fingers. Isa was aware of the revulsion that almost physically entered her body, and yet the pull was irristable, even though a dim part of her existance protested that all balance was gone. She must have the vial.

Isa-Nox noticed how Zhavon was supported, and she gnarled impatiently "Foolish girl. Will you never know where power lies?" Her blood dripping hand reached out and her fingernails dug deep into Zhavons skin, opening her flesh as she grasped for the vial in a last attempt to gain advantage, prepared for hot pain filling her even as triumph awaited.

Guest · Post by **Guest** » Sat Jun 19, 2004 2:07 am

Everyone

No sooner had the blood touched Finodborn than the darkness began to race through his mind, tempting and needling as he stood. The thoughts were conflicting- confusing, throwing his own mind into disarray. The feeling of the blade and the subsequent collapse brought some measure of tranquility to his conflicted mentality, but not enough that he could focus entirely. The red fluid seemed to darken immediately upon contact with the air- becoming increasingly shadowy as it continued to pool around the elf's feet, slowly spreading- almost as if it had a desire of its own to expand.

As the elf's hands touched the instrument at his side, something awoke within him- some spark of vitality in the midst of the ensnaring tendrils of shadow. The old woman's voice reached into him- faded and crackled by the sands of time. The words weren't audible to his pointed ears, but somehow reached within the depths of his soul, humming a fragile tune that threatened to break apart at the slightest vibration. But it was familiar too, the item throbbing with its internal pulse... and the blood flowing from Finodborn's wound gradually lightened- both in flow and coloration.

Syrawenn, touching the arms of the two around her, felt a sense of completeness- as if she was part of something greater than what she was only a few moments before. Words flowed from her lips- words that were not her own. Her mind was suddenly flooded with voices- voices speaking tongues she herself could only vaguely remember or understand. The message was clear, though- it was an emotion that seemed odd to the dark-haired woman herself. Revenge rolled through her- but not dark and passionate revenge- it is more appropriate to call the sensation 'justice'. Voices of children and mothers alike called through her sweet notes- high and lilting, with undertones of low thrummings.

Crescendo and decrescendo performed their delicate balancing dance within her words, multiple timbres rolling in unison, splitting into a gorgeous divisi- building up layers of rallentando and accelarando, the vocal piece entirely too complicated for a single being's throat to logically produce. Somehow, however, the silken and honeyed tones of Syrawenn's multiple harmony existed still- quick and flowing, an endless torrent of spiritual emotion and demand. Baritone and soprano accompanied bass and tenor in a fast and twirling dance- twirling about each other gracefully- keeping their steps precise while maintaining the rapidity.

It wasn't long after Syrawenn's song began before Automne came to kneel in the spreading water, slowly rising- now easily up to her thigh as she kneeled. It was tragic- the helplessness that lingered in the elf's slanted eyes- the fragility of his kind placed on clear display. Although the instrument was affixed in his grasp- Finodborn's eyes rolled back in his head, and his head cocked as if he heard something beyond Syrawenn's own vocal outburst. The blood was somehow ooze-like, and it did not dilute outward with the rising water... but rather stuck together in a gradually expanding circle.

The brilliant glow emerging from Zhavon's palm illuminated the entire scene- giving the blood around Finodborn the look of a ruby carpet, forcing all present to squint as the light continued its approach to an immense zenith of luminosity. Somehow, the red-haired elfess could feel the light of her instrument and the light of the vial... combined with the light of Finodborn's own struggle... pushing away the shadow that strove to reach their souls- seeking to wrench control away from them all. Mantras of darkness echoed through her mind, battling viciously against the melody of justice that played out just nearby... and it wasn't clear yet which would emerge victorious.

And then, Automne's own song began- companion to Syrawenn's voice and tune, spritely and somehow eternal as well. It was indeed the song of the sea, somehow stronger now... the water all around rising almost imperceptibly around the kneeling elfess, forming eddies and torrents that continued to reflect the brilliant light spilling from the vial. With the addition of Automne's song to the cry for justice, Finodborn felt within himself the slightest withdrawing... the shadow cringing backward from the light that was suddenly everywhere- in the spreading light... in this horrible song... even Isabella felt the sudden repulsion, but not as greatly. After all, her blood was much stronger than that which inhabited Finodborn.

Much had happened in the brief time- Isa first feeling the irritation of knowing that the light of Jaji- why did she know that name?- suddenly began to spread as the vial was opened, and then again when Finodborn touched his instrument. As if this distraction was not enough, the chaotic-minded one began to sing a song of a thousand voices, soon accompanied by the elfess with her flute- overall, the sudden brilliance of the light was shocking, and it took a moment to recover from it all. Her shadow was, of course, more potent than this light- but Nox was not expecting such competition from these... mortals. There was no pain- only shock, like a cold slap in the face.

It was during this brief pause that Rendia reached the doorway, Anasis spinning through her still. The goddess had indeed blessed her child, perhaps more than the Madam Rahan had blessed the instruments of these mortals. The power was within the priestess Rendia- not a forceful power, controlling her actions- but rather a filling light, that strove against this vile darkness. As the woman from Amun Rah looked within the room, she could see the dark-haired woman with olive skin, darkness surrounding her like a shroud- spreading casually into an elf laying on the ground, bleeding into the waters of Anasis's Lake. It was somehow wrong- but there was only disquiet, no disgust. Only pity and sadness enetered Rendia's heart- for all of them, mortals caught within a battle of epic proportions.

As Rendia watched, Isabella... this Nox... recovered from whatever pall had happened upon her, reaching for the kneeling woman, with a vial of pure light in her hand, now open... (Uphuron's Blood, came the instant recognition from Rendia, though she knew not how) Even as the vial was opened, the god's blood flowing upon Zhavon's hand, Isabella struck- her hands drawing the blood wickedly and suddenly, her hands impossibly sharp and hard. As the hand withdrew- to reach for the vial, the blood of the sungod merged with the flow of Zhavon's own, closing the wounds, although the pain remained yet.

Isabella's hand burned and raged against her as the light incarnate touched them- Nox screamed within her, shrinking back as he had never done before... and even as he did, the light was slowly being EXPENDED, the drops touching his skin, releasing a trail of smoke and fire... before disappearing entirely. Within only a few flickers, about a quarter of the precious substance was gone... although Isa-Nox felt pain as she had never felt before in the exchange. I will not be sent back into the nothingness.... oh no... there will be no return... I will succeed... came the seething voice of the demon within her mind...

Zhavon felt something caress her, and looked beyond the door- where stood the most beautiful desert woman that it seemed had ever walked Tazlure. Her eyes seemed to shimmer with cerulean beauty, her robes of loose seafoam glittered in light, although the bazaar itself was dark. There was familiarity there- but Zhavon was too distracted to place it. The vial glowed even brighter, even as it diminished- but there was desperation too, as if the vial would not be enough to push back Nox. There needed to be more- or perhaps Zhavon was not the intended wielder...

Doubts and shadow melded with justice and light, and the resultant twilight stood- at a balance, for now. The slightest edge could completely change the course of things... Krynsanthis himself would be pleased with the circumstances- were he present- as all that remained, for all of the conspirations and trials... was pure chance and luck.

((OOC: Sorry about the delay... thanks to Automne and Zhavon for reminding me to post!

I must also apologize for all the highlights, but... you guys are one big group, so there's no easy way to give each person a specific section to read.))

Zhavon Mikhalrian · Post by **Zhavon Mikhalrian** » Mon Jun 21, 2004 2:17 am

Dazzled by the light, she hadn't even seen Isabella attack her. Sure, she could feel the pain that erupted when the demoness clawed open her arm in attempts to reach the vial. The liquid spilled onto her hands, over her arm, sealing the gashes, burning through her blood in a flair of agony. Blinking back the tears caused by the demoness's attack, the light and the blood of the sun god, she looked towards the door, oddly comforted by something.

Shuffling through the water, away from the trio of musicians and Isabella, the vial still held tightly in her clutching hands, she staggered towards the desert woman. Fingers were careful to shove the vial's cap back into place, attempting to save the vial from any spilling of the precious liquid during this hazardous traversing through the room. Praying to the powers above, below or beyond, she hoped that Isabella would leave her alone long enough to make it to the woman, long enough that she could pass the vial to her and relieve herself of this tremendous burden.

Reaching the door, Zhavon pressed Uphuron's vial into the ethereal being's hands, cupping her fingers about the woman's. Looking up to her, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, she stared up into the woman's face, seeking answers, supplication, protection, salvation... "Keep it safe from her and please, save us all..." Turning, the girl looked back upon those she'd parted from, staring hopelessly at the musicians, the demoness.

Gia as Rendia · Post by **Gia as Rendia** » Mon Jun 21, 2004 5:09 am

The strange scene, so full of tension, concerning so many oddly vibrant, important people, and yet so incomplete, looked almost unreal to Rendia. Her large unblinking eyes slowly washed up and down each figure... the bleeding man, the surreal singer, the unusual and incredible musician accompanying her, the dark, small... but not small... what was she... menacing... threatening, deadly, this figure fixed Rendia's eyes, and she saw darkness in a clarity she had never felt before, because she never could have handled it before; if she was only herself, and had seen the blackness, she would have been incapacitated by the intensity of seeing, of knowing what it truly was. It was not that this was so unreal, but that it was more real then anything Rendia had ever seen. The experience stole Rendia's breath and centered her once more, firmly in the strength of Anasis, Anasis within her, all around her, of Anasis with her. Anasis was with her. She could see and not be destroyed.

And as she saw, and as she pitied, in the new disquiet of this knowledge, the mortal participants, the dangerous one suddenly struck the arm of a slight framed girl who she had been distracted with since Rendia had arrived, a girl so delicate looking, with the light of such brilliance that had brought Rendia here held in her little palm, that Rendia thought for a moment she would break. The action struck such sorrow in Rendia's body, such a great reaction, a quiet outcry, that she closed her unblinking eyes slowly, that one blink the only outward expression of the jarring cry within her. Silent sorrow, such a strange feeling, to be so intense and yet so deathly quiet. She did not waver. And before her reopened eyes, the light spilled forth, healing it's carrier and reaching out to punish her attacker in a blaze. This was not as Rendia felt, but it was also somehow perfectly harmonious in it's vast difference.

Rendia looked intently at the figures. The light had imperceptibly diminished. It was still as powerful... but there was less... less what? Fight? Strength? Ability? Less... time maybe. Unhurried, Rendia stared at the figures and felt her body prepare to move forward again.

As this happened, the girl of the light, saw her. While the demoness was clearly in the process of receiving a very great wound, Rendia saw the strained balance quivering, sensitive. With tears in her eyes as the wounds healed but the pain still shocked her, the girl began withdrawing from the assembly. Rendia followed her smooth, desperate, quick movements, more immediate then Rendia would have expected, and realized she was escaping with the purpose of reaching her. Rendia's eyes swirled a mix of blue and green, compassion and encouragement rising in her, her hand rising toward the girl. The balance trembled. The demoness had just been wounded, and the girl's movements were so sudden that her shying away from all others was going to be successful, Rendia saw. She fluidly stepped forward several steps to meet her, hand still outstretched, eyes locked with the girls. Instinctually, she stood strong and imposing, defensive towards the direction that the dark soul was. When she realized what was happening... but Rendia did not fear. She only caught and supported the girl gracefully as she stumbled into her open arms, eyes still locked with the pain-filled, hope lighted ones before her.

She was pressing the vial into Rendia's open hand. Rendia was holding the carefully capped, precious essence and the light girl was protectively pressing it it into her care freely.

"Keep it safe from her and please, save us all..."

Rendia looked down into the pure instant of faith in that face and smiled easily, bright multi-colored eyes releasing a large tear that fell softly down to the water below. Lifting the hand not holding the vial, Rendia gently placed it on the Zhavon's forehead, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, and felt something almost like a pulse of encouragement from deep within, from beyond herself, from Anasis.

"Anasis blesses you, child," she said in a rich voice that was smoother then hers had ever been. And her eyes spoke understanding and peace. This was done in only a moment, but with the calmness and certainty of those who have eternity at their gates, a strength in all their actions, as if each one was just as important and could take the rest of the yahren if it were that important and nessesary.

Then she turned with Zhavon, turned to look, the vial firmly in her hand, and peace in her eyes, a constant prayer with no words in her heart, the song in her ears, the quiet of Anasis on her mind, the power that was not her own sweetly blessing her mouth still. She did not know what Anasis would do with the vial. She turned towards the others, towards the evil, so that she could see.

Guest · Post by **Guest** » Mon Jun 21, 2004 5:44 am

A relieving chorus of tunes swam through the air, and through Automne herself, giving her new strength. She soon beheld the power that her flute pocessed in this realm, the inch or two of water that had covered the ground soon began to swell and rise. Since she was on her knees, next to the wounded but still playing Finodborn, the water rose to her waist. She somehow had managed to lift him onto her knees so he could keep playing, and still breathe. Please let this cleanse the land... let it cleanse him... and this demon.

Her notes revelled in her hope and danced in a flowing melody, much like the sea itself. It came in waves, scales that flooded over you and sent shivers down your spine.

She was barely able to see what was going on otherwise, focusing on some song she did not know but was certain she was not going to mess up. All she could see, was a swell of pure golden light, it stung her eyes, so she closed them, still the light shone through.

She wanted to call out to the singing Syrawenn, ask her if Nox was being pushed back. If they were winning... but she feared that if she were to stop playing some darkness would consume them all.

Her fingers were growing tired, strange-fingers shouldn't grow tired in dreams, her lungs burning and churning in great breathless agony...

Still there was the comforting sighs of cool water against her waist... and... some other presence that gave her comfort.

A presence that Zhavon made her way to. A presence that Automne felt could give her relief, but she did not dare stop to ask it.

Finodborn · Post by **Finodborn** » Tue Jun 22, 2004 12:08 pm

Finodborn was completely absorbed with his resistance against the black blood flowing through his veins. He wasn't aware of the hurting of his eye muscles, strained by unhealthy tension, the mundane pain of his cut ankles didn't get through to him, he didn't notice even the gentle caress from Automne. But he was aware of the vibrations of his instrument, as if it was somehow very relevant and part of his internal struggle.

He felt it calling, but he was to weak to blow, leave alone form the complex fingering patterns. Finodborn was above all a singer however, and though his voice was thin as a single silk thread, he tried to add his voice to the polyphonic harmony. It was cracked, ugly, out of key, and probably not loud enough to be heard by anybody present, but he really enjoyed it, as the presence in him clearly disliked it. I always figured dying while singing would be incredibly romantic. [/u]