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

[dplax]

Plaxica 85/85

He nodded at the direction and nearly immediately shifted to owl form, ready to fly out, but then he turned to the druidess, whom it could be he was seeing for the last time.

"Thank you. I wish you good luck."

And with that he jumped and in mid air shifted flapping his wings at high speeds hoping that when he would reach the corpse of the slain dragon, he would not meet any opposition.

[TAOWolf]

She watches as the young man takes flight, shifting in mid-jump and sends a quick prayer up for him.

As she reaches out to pick up a certain rune, she stops suddenly, feeling the arrow the WindBringer's daughter gave her poke her gently in the side of her shirt.

Pulling it out gently, she lays it across her knees running a gloved hand softly over the feathers, straightening them as silver tears fall freely from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks to drop upon the shaft of the arrow.

She looks skyward as she whispers, "Windbringer, hear this call.. I plead...
I ask that your daughter take care of my wolves should I fall in battle this evening... I fear I do not have the heart nor the will to fight anymore... I fear all is lost for me.."

Wiping her eyes with a gloved hand, she reverently sets the arrow to the side, and starts looking through her herbs, taking this one and that, and laying them aside...

edited for missing paragraph

[ 02-16-2005, 12:24 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

[Morgeruat]

ooc: ugh, still feeling like a warm pile of brown doggy sausage, but here goes.

Morguerat

The stranger was different, that was for certain, but there was no sense of evil flowing from him. Times like this made Morguerat recall the usefulness of the oft overlooked ability of detecting motives that paladin's possess. Still he had been rescued, and for that Morguerat was greatful, his oath to protect Larry had been in serious jeopardy before this spellweaver had come by. "I'm not sure where we are located now, but prior to leaving the lighted lands for that realm of shades we were at the estate of the duchess of Lesis, and her home, on the swampyland known, apropriately enough as Lesismoore. My goal had been to get a fair distance to the east, but..." He looked at Larry and shook his head, "I fear I have no idea where we are now. Far to the north is Keldorn's Order, a place that was once haven to goodly creatures, home of paladins and friend of rangers. Although it looked to be under a shadow itself when last I viewed it. I also understand the Shadow Mage keeps his home in a tower in the southern lands, but again, I know not where we are in relation to either place. Now, if you'll pardon my rudeness, I have learned some things I should note, before they are forgotten."

While he waited for Larry to recover, both his breath and sensibilities the knight sat, and rummaged a bit before getting his book, ruler, and the ink and pens. He quickly began jotting down names, Madman Rogovich, insane thief who had tried to pinch Byronas' sword to hawk in the marketplace, and later sliced his way into a dragons belly in the titanic battle for the forums. Neb, mind-mage of great power, who among other things opened portals to elemtal alcohol into the paladin's stronghold, let his familiar cause all kinds of chaos, and had a nice oversized head good for hitting with rocks. Even Yorik, the bard who played "Sir not appearing in this game" but who challenged Larry seperately and without aid from the paladins. Garnet and Rastus, her elven cat familiar, led the rangers into battle with Legolas. The memories brightened from tiny pinpricks of light as he wrote them, cemented them into words. The lights awoke other more dim lights, TAO in a cheerleading outfit, Galadria, Imoen, Nalia, and Viconia together in Keldorn's Order of all places. The memories began pouring out faster than pen could be put to paper

[ 02-18-2005, 12:03 PM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ]

[Morgeruat]

Yevaud

watching the owl out of the corner of his eye Yevaud noticed several strange things about the bird, for instance, it flew like it was wounded, or perhaps fresh out of the nest, very strange indeed. but there were more important things about. Yevaud followed the elf maid, his cloak freshly pulled up, and over his shoulders, allowed to fall together at the front, with one hand resting with more than casual ease upon his axes, his focus on his sword was his life and his livelihood, but he'd learned long ago that to rely upon one weapon solely was to invite death. The warrior kept behind and to the left of the priestess, acknowledging her station, as he warily surveyed the damage. "You know, none of this would have happened if you lived in trees, in harmony with nature as Correlon intended."

ooc: yes he's an ass, but he's elven, so it's normal

[ 02-16-2005, 01:35 PM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ]

[Legolas]

For Anarrima and Yevaud

Twenty-five were the guards out of action now, and of these but one still drew a laboured breath. Three others remained inside the ruined base of the tall keep.
Of the nearly two score strong garrison less than a dozen men were left to watch over the survivors, servants of the Duchess all. Eight searched the rubble, aided by cooks and stableboys and cleaners. With a good idea of what to expect now, each one carried a net and proper weaponry to finish off any unlikely survivors. One was supervising the efforts, shouting instructions and encouragement. The remaining two had remained on guard, though their eyes were turned to the inside rather than at what lay beyond the walls. Not far from the gates, a healer did what he could for the horridly wilted man lain out there.

"Aye, it's a tragedy," one of the lookouts replied without thought.
"We're searching for the creature and her minions, to put them out of their misery proper. Come here and assassinate half the household like there's no better sport. Well, this should teach her!"

Nodding fiercely to his own words, he turned to the other speaker. His eyes widened with concern and a different kind of anger crept into his voice.

"Hey! You shouldn't be here! You're with them, but you won't have your way! Go run off and tell your master he's done enough harm already."

[dplax]

OOC: Part 1 of 5. I also changed the spirit's color to orchid as Cyril had said after the last time that the darkred was hard to read.

Plaxica 85/85

As soon as he left his human form the effect of the banewolves on him lessened immediately and became almost non-existent. Free from the fear and oppressed feeling he had had in human form that close to the banewolves his wing took him fast towards his destination.

Yet he had a long journey to make and it was not going to be eventless...

It started a quarter of an hour after he had left the grove. He flew over a willow tree when the first memory hit him.

Plaxica looks around and sees all his friends running next to him. He is in front. It is a race to see which one of them reaches the shore first. Running around the big willow tree on the edge of the village, the young Plaxica glanced back around his shoulder to see Gary gaining on him. They passed the tavern, which was the last building of the village and a few dozen meters later Gary came level with Plaxica. Putting on a burst of speed he tried to distance Gary, but the shorter boy managed to keep up. And then about five hundred meters from the shore Plaxica's side started hurting. Coming to a halt and was only able to continue on at a walk. He looked back and saw the others off in the distance. He and Gary had always been the best runners of their age and usually Plaxica managed to beat his best friend. But he was just recently healed from a severe cold, so he did not want to force himself too much. Turning back towards the front he saw Gary ahead, shouting back at him.

"Come on Plaxica! You're better than this."

Holding his side Plaxica just waved at Gary to go on. Gary looked back and stuck his tongue out playfully then running on disappeared behind the sand dune just next to the shore.

That was the last time anyone saw the boy alive. When two days later the boys body was found his own parents could barely recognize him. His young body had been brutally mutilated and beside him a message had been written with his blood into the sand. Plaxica's father who was the mayor of the small village at the time did not let any of the children go near the body and when two of the older boys went to look the body and the message had already been removed. Further excursions to the shore were forbidden and the guard was doubled.

Snapping out of the vision Plaxica found that he was standing on a branch of the willow tree he had just flown past in owl form. Why had this event from his past come back? And why now? Gary had been his best childhood friend and had been brutally killed. Plaxica's father never revealed the message, which had been written in the sand that night.

[dplax]

OOC: Part 2 of 5

Plaxica 85/85

"Do you know why I evoked that memory?" - the thought although he knew came from the spirit inside him caught Plaxica totally at the unawares and he nearly fell from the branch he had been holding on to.

"I have no idea."

"Observe further then." - was all the spirit communicated to him, and before Plaxica had a chance to reply he was plunged into the second memory.

It was winter. A winter, which had been especially heavy with lots of snow and temperatures well below freezing point. Not even the elders of the village had ever seen a winter this strong. Yet at the time Plaxica was not in the village. His father had sent him as an apprentice to the town of Algan Falls. Called thus because of the picturesque waterfall of the river Alg half a mile outside the town. Plaxica fourteen years old at the time was the apprentice of the renowned blacksmith and armourer Karan, called the Ironhand in some places. Karan had been a great adventurer in his own time and when he retired he became a blacksmith and getting old he took Plaxica as an apprentice. On the morning of that day Karan had sent Plaxica to gather some firewood around the falls of Alg. The falls were frozen, yet this was not what caught Plaxica's attention the most that morning.

Fresh tracks, maybe but a day old. Half a dozen men had crossed the river below the falls and had gone towards the town. Yet neither on the way to the falls, nor in town had Plaxica met any strangers and as far as he knew no one had arrived in the tavern in the last two weeks. And who would be outside in a cold like this? He was only here to gather firewood for the smith since they had ran out of it. He gathered the firewood he needed and then followed the tracks. They entered the town from behind one of the most deserted buildings and then were lost among the multitude of tracks in the main streets of the town. Deciding that if it were something important he would find out about it in due time Plaxica turned and headed towards the smithy.

Once he got there he found out. He spotted the smoke already a few streets away, and then he saw the fire when reaching the street where his mentor lived. Filled with horror Plaxica broke into a run and reached the house just as some of the city’s guards did. One of them, who recognized him as the apprentice of the blacksmith, took hold of him, and stopped him from going to the house. Nothing could be done for the burning house or those who were inside it, as any water they tried to bring froze extremely fast. The guard took Plaxica to the tavern, where the owner gave him a room. The fire died of itself the next morning, yet the house was reduced to a pile of charred timber and ashes.

Plaxica just sat in his room in the tavern, looking out the window. The captain of the guard came to see him in the middle of the day.

”Plaxica there is something I have to tell you.”

“They’re dead.” – Plaxica replied gazing fixedly in front of himself. Karan and his beautiful wife, who had been so nice with Plaxica. And their two beautiful girls, Elisa and Elanor. All dead.

”Yes, but that is not what I wanted to tell you about. They were dead before the fire started. Karan and his family were all beheaded before the house was torched.”

Plaxica’s eyes widened with shock.

“But who would have…?”

”That’s exactly what we want to find out. I need you to tell me what happened with you and Karan in the last few days.”

Then suddenly it all clicked into place in Plaxica’s fourteen-year-old mind. The unknown tracks.

“I think I might know something which could help you.”

”Yes?”

”Yesterday Karan asked me to go and get some firewood near the falls. I saw some strange tracks coming from over the river and following them on the way back saw them enter the town from behind the deserted building on the western outskirts.”

As soon as he heard this the guard captain stood up and thanking Plaxica left. Ten minutes later four guards came to Plaxica’s door and mounted guard, unknown to Plaxica at the time. The guard captain along with a dozen men left the town following the tracks. Their dead bodies were found three miles above the falls, where they had followed the tracks. They had fallen in a great battle and many marks of magic were visible around them on the ground. Three hundred feet away the bodies of six strange looking men were found. Their shoes matched the prints found near the falls and some prints found around the house of Karan Ironhand. It was never found out who they were, but most people in the town guessed that Karan had angered someone in his adventuring days, who had sent mercenaries against him and then the mercenaries themselves met their end lest they betray the one, who had sent them.

[dplax]

OOC: Part 3 of 5.

Plaxica 85/85

The vision ended as abruptly as it had started. Looking around Plaxica saw from the Sun’s standing that half an hour had passed. And he was on the move again. He panicked for a moment that the spirit had taken him away from his goal, yet looking back he saw that he had come a great distance towards his goal. And this time when the spirit spoke inside his head, his surprise was much less as he had been expecting it.

”Do you still not see it?”

“You show me the death of my best friend and then that of the man, who took me in for my apprenticeship. What now? The death of my father?” – he asked with a feeling of fear and dread entering his mind.

”You guess well…” - was all the spirit said and in a swirl Plaxica was taken in by another vision.

The bleakness of winter was gone, yet the location was the same. After the death of Karan, Plaxica had awaited the end of the winter in the town, and then went back to his village for half a year. It took his father that long to find someone else to take him as an apprentice. This time it was an ageing old man Almanius who took care of Plaxica’s education. He was too old and fragile, and his muscles were already weak, so he only took care of Plaxica’s mental education, yet much of the young man’s free time was spent hanging out with other youths from the town. It was thus that he met Ramella. Plaxica was nineteen at the time and Ramella was eighteen. As time went by and they got to pass more and more time together they started liking each other and not long after Ramella’s nineteenth birthday Plaxica took her to the falls of Arg and under the moonlit sky he confessed his love to her. Three weeks later he wrote a letter to his father asking his permission for him to ask Ramella to marry him. The reply came seventeen days later. Plaxica and Ramella went together to the falls of Arg and there Plaxica opened the letter. What struck him first was that the letter was written in his mother’s flowing script and not his father’s barely readable scribblings.

Five minutes later the letter fell from Plaxica’s hands. He sat down on a rock and burying his head in his hands he started crying. It took Ramella several minutes to calm him down.

”I’m sorry Ramella. I have to go home. My father is dying. You’d better stay here. I promise I shall be back.”

”Plaxica! Wait!” - she said as Plaxica jumped up.

A brief, but passionate kiss later Plaxica was running back to the town, tears flowing down his cheeks. He reached the stables and without a word to the stable boy, who was one of his friends took his horse and rode off towards his village. Exhausted, he got there after twenty hours of riding, giving his horse only short rests and one longer one, of three hours during the early hours of the day. Jumping off his horse in front of the house and just leaving the poor, also exhausted beast out there, he rushed inside.

His older sister and her husband had come and so had his uncle with his family. Plaxica requested to see his father alone. The old man looked to be in really bad shape, and Plaxica could see that he would not live long. He knelt down beside the bed and took the old man’s hand. The weakened eyes opened and the head turned to look at Plaxica. The parched lips formed barely audible words.

”My son…You have come…Thank…you.”

The voice faded and a tear rolled down the face, due to the effort.

”Your…mother told me…about the letter you wrote…I’m glad you came…I wanted to see you once…again before I passed…away.”

Through immense effort Padrag, Plaxica’s father lifted a hand and brushed away a tear from his son’s face. A hint of a smile touched his lips and he spoke again.

”Plaxica…” - his breath came suddenly with a sharp whistling sound - ”I wish you many happiness with this girl.” - and as he pronounced the last words, his eyes closed, and the once great man died.

Plaxica broke out in tears and kneeling next to his father’s bed and sobbed for several minutes.

The burial happened three days later. Plaxica, his uncle and two men from the village carried the coffin to the grave. On the gravestone was marked:

Padrag Battan lived 59 years, shall be missed by his children and wife

After the end of the ceremony the priest called Plaxica over for a talk during the week. Plaxica went to see the priest the night before he was to go back to Algan Falls.

”Plaxica there is something I have to tell you.” - the short chubby man announced to him after letting him in to his small house next to the temple.

”What is it?”

”I am sorry to be the one, who gives you this news, but your father was poisoned by your own mother. A year ago a strange new man arrived in the village. A mage they say. He went to see your mother one day and she never was the same since. I tried to send you a warning earlier, but the two men I sent were intercepted by this man, and they haven’t come to speak to me ever since.”

”So you say that my mother was put under a spell by this, mage?”

”I fear it is so. You must flee now! Do not go back to Algan Falls! They watch the road and I have heard rumours that this man seeks to kill you. I would give you shelter in the temple, yet not even the temple is safe from him. Two weeks ago someone broke into the temple and stole our holy items, and I fear it was him, or someone working for him.”

”I thank you. I shall never forget you for this.”

Plaxica turned to leave through the door, but suddenly a knock penetrated the stillness of the room, and a voice came through the wooden door.

”I know he is in there. Open up, or I shall be forced to blast the door off of it’s hinges.”

The priest motioned the window to Plaxica and without saying a single word the young man nodded his thanks and left the house through the window. He did not make fifty meters, before he heard the death shrieks of the priest. Plaxica broke into a run. He did not stop until he reached the next village fifteen miles away. He did not know whether he was going to be followed, so he only stopped briefly for half an hour for a meal in the tavern and then he continued on.

[TAOWolf]

Preparing for battle...
After she has unloaded her pouches and pack with what she will need, she stands stretching. Removing her cloak, she picks up her pack and carries them to her wolves, laying the cloak within their protection and motioning them to lay down around it, putting the youngers ones on top of it. She sets her pack in the protective area then turns back and walks around the grove, trailing a finely ground powder of belladonna mixed with dandelion and marigold from her ungloved fingers.

She then goes back to where she has layed out the materials she will need, and picks up two pieces of ginger root carved with runes. These she takes to each megalith in the horseshoe, and rubs them upon the cool stone.

Picking up a container of beeswax mixed with baneroot, she walks back to her wolves, and rolling bits of this up, puts it in each of her wolves ears, and then hers.

This will help dampened the chill and numbing of the undead brothers...She mindspeaks to her wolves..

She goes to the fire ring that sits in the apex of the horseshoe and sits down next to it, and proceeds to take off her boots and shirt. Reaching back she plaits her long hair into two complex braids that swing well below her hips. Wearing only leather pants, bracers on both shins and forearms, she dons a leather breastplate, decorated with ancient runes and symbols.

The last time she donned such armor tries to enter her mind, but she gently pushes it back, as now is not the time to become distracted... The runes upon her body begin to glow a soft blue as she paints symbols upon the flesh showing on her body with blue woad... She finishes by drawing two spirals on each cheek, then sets the willow brush down.

Her eyes begin to change, taking on the wolfish characteristics of her spirit side, and she picks up her staff, touching the crystal moonstone to the firepit.

Purple and silver flames burst into life, throwing immense light into the grove, dispelling the shadows back to the edges.

She takes two runes, Fehu and Berkana made of ancient igneous rock containing olivine and slams these together in front of her...

An invisible vibration starts in the ground 15 feet in front of her, spreading out to encompass the ground in front of her to the forest edge 35 feet away... lifting her face to the wind, her eyes shift to silver, the shadows of wolves running across her pupils as she lifts her voice to the wind chanting the ancient words to a spell...

The ground begins to groan and shift, what was once solid begins to turn... the rocks begin to liquify, the dirt becomes muddy and the ground changes to quicksand... The grass waves wildly during the changing, then settles back, providing a camoflauge layer to hide the deadly quicksand beneath...

She throws the runes onto the ground, one to the east and one to the west, where they slowly sink into the mire, holding and protecting the spell..

She quickly turns back to the other items, and categorizies these into the spells she will use, and then turns, facing the south, one ungloved hand upon her staff, the other on her hip. She throws no shadow, as this has been stolen, but curiously, barely seen is the shadow of her wolf side. She waits, as the wind gently blows her plaited hair back and forth like the pendulam of a clock.. ticking off the minutes....

[ 02-17-2005, 01:05 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

[dplax]

OOC: Part 4 of 5

Plaxica 85/85

A feeling of profound sadness came over Plaxica. His worst memories, those he would have preferred to forget, all condensed into this small part of a day. Had owls been able to cry, Plaxica was sure that tears would have been flowing now.

”It is strange about you humans that such far away events can cause so much sadness. You dwell in the past much too much.”

”You can not know what I have been through!”

”Can’t I?”

Plaxica was drawn into another vision, yet this one was different. He could sense things much better and he felt that he was still in an owl’s body. The owl’s head turned and Plaxica in the vision spotted a man. The mage he had seen once during his father’s funeral. The mage walked over to the cage in which the owl was and in his hand was a small rat. The owl took the rat, and eat it with pleasure. The scene then changed and Plaxica saw several small figures down on the ground, running. The owl circled down and as he did so the figures became clearer. He saw himself as a young boy running along with Gary next to him. He saw Gary go ahead, he saw him go round the dune, and then he saw him meet a man. The man without a single word grabbed Gary and cut his throat, taking care not to spill any blood on the ground. He took the body of the boy in a bag and going around the other side of the dune took it a few hundred feet away, where he mutilated it and then using blood gathered from the body, wrote the following words in the sand.

Padrag Battan! Let the death of your son be a warning that you do not mess with us!

The image became blurred and slowly faded.

Plaxica snapped out of the vision and looked around himself. He had covered a great distance since he had left the druid’s grove yet before he could do anything more another vision literally hit him.

He saw again through the eyes of an owl. The owl’s master was just receiving the man, who had killed Gary. And then he killed the mercenary for having failed to get the right kid.

The image flashed and a winter landscape came into view. In the distance the town of Algan Falls could be seen. A group of six men crossed over the river and headed towards the town. The owl flew in closer and the six men could be seen making their way through the town, which was deserted due to the cold. One of them went to the back of the blacksmith’s house.

Four went to the front door, while the sixth mounted guard outside. They knocked on the front door. Elisa opened the door and with a swing of his sword the foremost of the men cleaved off her head in a single motion. Karan’s wife screamed and started running, yet a throwing axe caught her in the back and knocked her down. She tried scrambling up, but the one of the men, who was rushing in cut her down. Karan went towards the back door and there knocked over the man mounting guard. He scooped Elanor up in his arms and ran towards his smithy at the back of the house. At the entrance he put down Elanor and told her to run. He turned and entered the smithy. Two of the men ran after Elanor and caught up with her before she reached the next house. Her screams weren’t heard by anyone.

Karan lasted the longest in the smithy. He wounded one of the men, but eventually he too was killed. The six attackers then gathered together the supply of wood from the smithy and took it into the house. They placed the four bodies next to the fireplace and beheaded those which had still been complete. They then piled the wood around them and lit it and then they left.

They left the town the same way they had come, but three miles above the waterfall Plaxica had a perfect view in the vision as they reached the mage. The owl landed next to him and hooted into the mage’s ear. The mage then killed the six men, with a single spell. They too had failed to kill Plaxica. The mage camped in the extreme cold then, aided by a magical fire next to which the owl warmed up.

The next day he was just about to set out, when the guard captain and his men arrived. The mage killed them too and then went off.

This time the vision did not fade totally and Plaxica only saw a very brief glimpse of the real world around him, before he plunged back into the owl’s memories.

The owl flew close to the mage as the mage arrived in Plaxica’s own village. He cast a spell to attract the mother three weeks after arriving and then in front of the owl’s eyes he ordered her to slowly administer a potent poison to the father. If the mage could not find Plaxica he would make Plaxica find him…

And then Plaxica saw himself riding at high speeds towards his village. He saw the burial from the owl’s point of view, sitting on top of the temple.

Several days flashed by and then a nighttime image could be seen. Plaxica saw himself arriving at the temple through the dark vision of the owl. He saw the attack happen on the priests house and then he saw the owl following him. It followed him for several days and nights, he could see from the images flashing by, up to the point where he enlisted in the service of Lord Nargalad.

Then he saw the owl back in its mages cage. The owl was furious. All the reward it had gotten for following Plaxica was two rats. And so he did not give any warning when he heard and smelt a man approaching the mage’s cabin. Plaxica’s uncle forced his way into the cabin and killed the mage. In the struggle the owl cage was knocked down, and the owl managed to escape.

OOC: only one more to go. I’m off for food now, will get it done after that.