Part 5>>>The Shadow of Love (an LoF adventure)

[dplax]

Andrion Wilgor 05/05

His master put his trust in him once again. Andrion was determined not to fail at this time.

"It shall be done as you wish."

Andrion looked around the room. Silt and Kynnen were gone. Maybe the elf had spared the drow's life? Andrion sniffed the air with his new nose, since he knew that owls had a good sense of smell. But the smell of smoke was too strong and he could not smell anything else. Hesitantly at first, but then with more confidence he made a few circles around the room, to familiarize himself with the movements of this new body. After a minute or so, he decided to head off in the direction the Inquisitor and the others had come from and flew over the burning body. His own he realised with irony. He went through the door and before reaching the staircase gathered in the scents he could find in the room.

OOC: not sure whether as a totally "newbie" owl he can make out anything and if he can whether he shall be able to correctly interpret the information.

[ 02-13-2005, 10:35 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

[Legolas]

Where gravity is defied

With a wry smile, the duchess Justina embraced the newcomer. Her eyes were distant, as her voice dropped to a whisper..

”Excuse us, dear.”


-------------------------
Year after year

A dozen years ago. A castle popping and groaning as spiderwebs formed. Cracks in the wall come from nowhere as the strain of stone on stone breaks its essence. Things are settling.
Eleven years ago. There are no thatched roofs. Where the crows fly, the first hole appears. A tile is sent crashing down, becoming a hundred for the homes of the brownie. A frightened horse, a broken leg. One fewer to join the hunting party.
Ten years ago. A cause must be found. Thousands of leaves disturbed, each bound in tomes. Great thinkers and great opportunists visit and feed and theorize. Ideas are shaped and sharpened.
Nine years ago. Workmen run with ropes and lead. Pegs of wood and cogs of timber hammered and fit into the rock, invisibly. Labour stops when a second besieger joins the first.
Eight years ago. Fighting amidst the foes. The newcomer is thrashed and the roads open once more. The tower stands stable, completed.
Seven years ago. A sally, of unknown distance and infinite duration. None return from their crusade.

Nature besieges everything. The moors of Lesis surround the keep with no plans of ever departing. The army does not need nourishment, nor does it require pay. It does not mind if convoys break through and reinforce the defenders. Some are slain walking through camp. Most are not. There is no hurry. The outcome is certain already.
Sappers from the marsh work tirelessly. Digging under the man-shaped stone, drowning the soil, washing away the foundations. Work is slow, but unceasing. There is no hurry. The outcome is certain already.

The outcome is rushed.


-------------------------
No longer

Under great protest, pebbles slide. With audible noise, bricks snap. Outside, a worried susurrus turns to shouts and keening. The leaning is nearing its end, but not before worsening gravely.
Thud after thud is heard as stones tumble down. A sickening sucking sound as the swamp claims its prizes. Then, they are no longer loose fragments dropping. The tower slides sideways and comes crashing down. Where it seemed small from ground level, now there lies a massive pile of rubble.
Concerned glances are shared, but none of the servants and guards waiting outside seem injured. The rest of the castle still stands. The wise men and engineers have done their work well.

Six flights of stairs protrude from the remains of the tall keep, roofless.
Five of the floors remain intact, barely, though the last is as littered as the earth.
Four minutes, the stunned silence lasts…

[dplax]

Andrion Wilgor 5/5

A smell of human sweat could be greatly felt in the area, yet Andrion did not have time to ponder this and all the other smells he felt as with a resounding crash the tower, the staircase of which was but a few meters from him finally gave way to its own weight. Nearly defeaned by the sudden burst of sound Andrion fell from the height of about half a meter, where he had been flying, and it took him several seconds to clear his head. He then flew up with a flapping of wings, which was much too fast and headed instead towards the entrance to the garden, intending to go outside and survey what damage had been done.

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Elsewhere – A place terribly close to the Sky

Terrakis

The Hated One moves quickly, more quickly than one would think with a body so wounded. The cloth strips have been scattered, but the giant is ready. Images of the Hated move swiftly around him and from several directions axes are thrown. In his left hand, he holds a large diamond within which tendrils as of some inky smoke writhe silently. The fingers of his right hand tighten their grip around the heavy throwing hammer he has made ready. From his right side the blow is struck as an axe of great sharpness bites into his leg. The force of the blow is surprising coming from the hand of one so small. The axe begins its movement back to the hand which hurled it and following along in its wake is the hammer as the giant turns swiftly and launches it in the direction of his attacker with a violent movement. Not waiting to see the result of the attack, the giant invokes the power of the diamond, a power prepared for this moment ......

The aim of mighty Terrakis is true, but no target is struck. The axe lands harmless on the ground on the spot from which it was thrown, left behind by one who has already moved elsewhere. The hammer shatters a rock some distance away and falls heavily onto the rubble.

...... The power of the gem is great and the images of the Hated are dispelled abruptly.
The arrows now flying toward him are not, however, and their bite is deep into the spaces between the ribs on his right side.

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Elsewhere – A place terribly close to the Sky

For the Modding Mage

Its flight is soundless and it glides easily along the restless currents of air in this desolate place. With a soft hooting it announces its presence behind the thing of shadow that has been allowed to remain here. His’eph is the name of the owl – in the language of the outsider forums, Whisper. Landing on a stone near to the presence, the small owl turns its intelligent eyes toward that one whom it has seen before within the tower and again newly restored as a shade. The presence watches the battle with great interest and the owl watches the presence.

And the wind about the owl seems to speak, but its words, if they be words at all, are hushed.

[Bozos of Bones]

Kynnen 57/85

The message in the ring supprised Kynnen. Interesting enchantment he thought How people waste their powers on such trivial items that could have been just as effective if written on a parchment. Humans will go a long way for pride. He put it back in the bag, and examined the other ring. It wasn't actually a ring, but a stone, in a wierd round shape with a hole in the center. Liking the design, Kynnen tried to put it on, but it was far too bulky for his fingers. Thinking he didn't need the thong to hold it anymore, he took it off, cut the pouch that hel the rings before, and tied it around the ring stone, to hang it on his left hand as a bracelet. Just as he was tying the knot, he heard a silent crackling sound. He looked around, pulling the cords tight to tie the thong, and noticed a small little crack going downwards on the inner wall in the stairwell. He looked up, to trace it, just as he heard the stones rumbling around him. He took a few steps back down the stairs, looking around in panic. This could effectively and hastily end his life, without Kynnen ever having a say in it. The rumbling exploded, deafening Kynnen and surrounding him in dust. He could do nothing but stand in place, hoping that the rocks he heard falling would not hit him. After the rumbling seased, Kynnen looked at himself, feeling himself for wounds. Only the old ones, like the slash on his back, the wound in his thigh, but nothing new. Relieved, Kynnen looked up and down, with the huge worked stones around him, broken and crushed, and thought if he should proceed up the stairs. Carefully, he took another step forward, up the stairs.

[Larry_OHF]

The Mage turned to see the flying rodent looking back at him, as though it were measuring him. It had no fear to land beside the Shadow Mage which troubled the great demi-god. Since he was out of his element, he supposed that meant to the owl that he was no threat.

Having lost his human aspects eariler in this game, The Modding Mage found he lacked an ease for humor, as in days long gone. Still, he could not help himself but to comment on this situation, even as his Shadow Giant Leader battled his most hated enemy.

Turning to the owl, he smirked as he spoke,

"So, Hedwig...should you not be out delivering messages to snotty little boys who play with wands?"

The mage smiles at his own genious and reaches into his pocket, pulling from it a card. He spat upon the card and rubbed it, chanting a small word of power.

Then he showed the card to the owl.

"What do you think?"

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Elsewhere – A place terribly close to the sky

Whisper

The form of the presence is different and there is a bitter edge to what had once been a ready humor. But the humor is familiar. The expression in the small owl’s eyes gives no indication of reaction to the gesture of the presence or the hastily conjured card. A soft hoot of recognition is the owl’s only response. There is a curious shifting in the wind, however, and words uttered once before in the hearing of this same owl repeat themselves here:

"What does he think this tower is, having a damned owl deliver messages! This isn't the Damned Hogwarts School of Magic, and I ain't damned Harry Potter! Can you beleive this guy???"

These words, spoken once before when the presence was different likewise draw a hoot of recognition from the owl. It seems to have grown colder and a certain biting quality appears to have entered the air, but that perhaps is merely a trick of the wind. Ahead, the battle continues and once more the giant has been wounded. But the eyes of the owl remain on the presence.

The above quote by the Modding Mage can be found here.

[ 02-14-2005, 06:56 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Elsewhere – A place terribly close to the sky

Terrakis

He grunts in frustrated exertion as the blade of his sword falls wide of its target once more and once more he feels the bite of a blade into his thigh. He had not thought the Hated so foolish as to engage him so directly and yet it would seem that that he himself has been played the fool for the wind itself adds speed to his opponent’s movement and force to his blows. Speed and force are not the great difference, however, for even mighty Adalon had hesitated at the thought of standing before the great giant. This one, however, shows no such fear. In truth so accustomed has he grown to seeing fear in his opponents eyes and movements, the fear that brings about indecision, that he had forgotten what it is to face an opponent with the swift and sure decisiveness that comes with lack of fear. The giant scowls. He had prepared himself for many things, but not for this thing, not for battle with an equal. An aggressive movement with the sword allows him space to step backward a moment while his opponent recovers balance. And there is a pause in the battle as the giant and the Hated once more meet each other’s gaze.

The air is cold and begins to grow restless

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Somewhere in the Forums – Many miles from Castle Lesismoore

Fortunately the large man is a man of sense who knows how to take advantage of unexpected opportunity. It is an even better thing that his strength is considerable. The armored warrior easily manages to move Larry by himself as the three pass through the opening which closes immediately behind them. Distances are traversed easily along the border of shadow and the few minutes of the young man’s hurried flight were easily enough to carry he and his companion a at least a full day’s journey from whatever their starting point may have been.

While the large man sees to his companion whose name apparently is Larry - ~ The more experienced serving the lesser, how wonderfully typical. ~ he takes the opportunity to prepare himself for dialogue with these strangers. From the invisible, a tall, slender man steps forward. His garments are simple and well-kept and might as easily be the simple finery of a man of unpretentious wealth as they might be the best traveling clothes of a man of poorer means. “I don’t suppose,” there is a calm assurance about his voice, a voice which at once conveys both education and simple directness, “either of you could tell me where we find ourselves and what manner of place this is.”

[ 02-14-2005, 10:03 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]