Part 7>>>The Shadow of Love (an LoF adventure)

[Morgeruat]

Yevaud [img]graemlins/elf.gif[/img]

The battle was fierce, the danger real, the elf was alive now because of a catlike desire to toy with him combined with reflexes honed by decades of practice. Fatigue was a presence, tangible, pushing at his senses, as adrenaline pushed it back. A triple-thrust from the demoness that would have skewered him, and a shift in the ground as Yevaud danced with a grace few on this plane could match. With blinding speed he struck at the exposed ribs of a suddenly off balanced fiend, it's retaliatory strike lost in the unexpected attack of another, a light of purity battling with an embodiment of corruption. Yevaud took advantage of the distraction to strike at the creatures torso again as he danced away to higher, drier ground.

[TAOWolf]

TAO

She weighs her options, and looks around to see who she needs to help the most. Motioning to Anamirra to come to her, she reaches into one of the many pouches on her belt, and pulls out a sprig of a leafy plant. Looking at the floor around her, she finds a piece of stone flooring, small and round, and wraps the sprig around it.

She whispers in a voice that carries through the room to Yevaud to catch it as she throws. The elf will know what to do with it. It is a plant from the group of healing herbs that give energy to the one who eats it. Not for long, but maybe long enough for him to keep his adrenaline up to fight.

It is all she can do for him. When Anamirra gets close enough, she raises her staff and softly touches the stone floor, bringing back the blue aura to surround her and Anamirra. It is not as strong as before, but enough to maybe protect the girl for now........

Lowering her head, she thoughtfully chews on some baneleaf and sage as she watches the battle...

[Larry_OHF]

The Mage

The Mage of Shadow who had no real name was stunned by the onslaught not of the rage of Storm, rather the storm of words spoken...and sting him they did...

I did not come here to fight a shadow....

Silverfall's lot it is to do battle with shades and his tale, even now, outpaces and defines your own...

How very like Silverfall you are...Shadows, the two of you – nothing more than shadows...

The Windbringer spoke those words as an attack, yet not one that the Mage could counter in any way.

But shadow is not all darkness, nor wickedness...

Silverfall...he has the power of Shadow within him still...for the taint of residual power left to him after he had seperated from the Mage had been thought of as a danger to the little man...something that would destroy him from within...but now, could it be possible that Silverfall could learn to use that power to do good deeds against the Mage? Could shadow-magic be used against him? He thought of the Reaper, and how the Reaper had somehow become immune to low-level shadow attacks. What then does Silverfall have as an innate ability now that Shadow has touched him?

it is also that which falls short of being genuine, that which lacks true depth, that which is but a poor substitute for the reality it apes...

Shadow magic...Could this menace from another realm really understand the make-up of such a potent magic? Could he fathom the importance of the Shadow-Weave that Shar had built soley to counter Mystra's might and power? What did Cyril really know?

Yet...his words seemed to have a valid theory...

No. Nothing could stop the Mage. The Power of Shadow was his to command and it became a reality for him if he said it was. All reality was based on the Mage's whim. This forum required him to say what was real and what was not. The government of Ironworks ran on what those in power told the others to believe, and rebels to this Power met destructive ends. Nobody would take this from him.

He smiled and gave a polite bow to his opponent.

"I have been away for quite a while now and it is time that I return and take care of some business, for even those that hate me, need me.

Good luck to you, Windbringer, wherever you may drift...as long as your winds do not drift you into my lands again."

The Mage concentrated his thoughts on home, his Tower...the point of Power that served as his fortified place of business. He had a lot to think on...especially with this Silverfall.

Darkcloud had said that Silverfall's storyline outpaced and defined the Mage's.

Surely not! Yes, it was true that Silverfall had been first, and had borne the hatred within him that eventually corrupted him so much so that he became the very evil overlord that everybody called the Mad Modding Mage...and that power was so great that a division between the two consciousnesses occurred and each had thier own individuality. But now while Silverfall sought after the Past...the Mage looked to the future...and the future was his for naming the games in this forum! Yes! This was clearly an oversight of Cyril who thought that Silverfall controlled the destiny of the forum...with his silly adventures of Love and foolishness! The Mage knew what to do. He knew that it was time to prove to Ironworks that he was in charge of everything. His enlightenment was overwhelming and the Mage laughed with excitement at the plans he had.

Focusing his thoughts still on the tower, he began to see the Forums again, scolling down and finding the RP forum...aiming himself at the LoF thread and locating the Tower. Now it was time to start work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mage of Shadow appeared in his throne room. The zu-zu zombie that he expected to be there was not. No matter. He'd worry about that after he got the message out.

He summoned a laptop to his throne and began to type,

THE MAGE HAS RETURNED AND IS NOW TAKING APPOINTMENTS FOR THE DEATH OF HEROES. IF YOU ARE A HERO, TAKE A NUMBER AND AWAIT YOUR DEATH. SOMEBODY WILL BE WITH YOU SHORTLY.

THE MANAGEMENT

...Sending...

...Your message has been sent to the OOC thread of LoF.

[Legolas]

Inquisitor Marcos of Snowdale - 75/98

The portal's reaction to the daemon had proved unexpectedly violent, but in its potency might well be found another weapon. Encouraged by its possibilities, the inquisitor determined to delay the withdrawal. He would require bold assistance if he was to force the daemon against the passage's searing surface and that required freeing up the sneak.
He strode back to repeat the procedure with the final dretch. An aching head and shifting floor would be no excuses for failure.

[Larry_OHF]

For Vincent and Marcos

The Inquisitor came to the rescue of Vincent who was being held under water by the nasty little beast sitting on him, clawing at his neck and back. Marcos grabbed it up off of the half-elf and slung it towards the portal, repeating his procedure for the extermination of these vermin and was greeted with the same results as the prior. Now, all three summoned demons had been destroyed.

Vincent was able to raise his head out of the water and breathe again. His beack streamed with blood from the vicious attack.

OOC>>>Forgot to hand Vincent some damage.
-12 hp from the attack.

================================================== =============================

For Yevaud

The bladesinger correctly read his window of extreme fortune and took it, battling with all his might against impossible odds with this foe. He struck and struck, cutting with amazing accuracy and with cuts that were lethal to many monsters in the forums. This Marilith took some damage, but she was not dead. She became angry with the turn of events and realized that the battlefield was not playing in her favor now. She regained her stance and began to deflect the blows again, being nearly completely defencive in her attempts to reassess the situation and start hammering back on the elf.

The lantern archon that the female cleric summoned was also an annoying distraction. The Marilith needed to get rid of it. Throwing one of her powerful longswords as though it were a dart, she struck the archon in the air and killed it instantly.

The Marilith now had only five of the six arms in use with blades, and one arm, the left-middle, was weaponless.

================================================== =============================

Anarrima 55/67

The cleric saw Marcos aiding Vincent as she turned away from the murder of her archon. She saw he was bleeding pretty badly. She began to prepare a healing prayer for him from where she stood by Tao's side, even as Tao was sending Yevaud aid as well.

She began to pray for the power that would heal Vincent.

OOC>>>She'll have it ready next round.

[ 06-02-2006, 08:22 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

[Morgeruat]

Yevaud [img]graemlins/elf.gif[/img]

Seeing the Marilith's action and the herbs thrown by Kaylisa, Yevaud deftly tossed his nonmagical blade aside (away from the fiend), caught the herbs, and began chewing them as he made a mad dash for the corpse of the Archon, attempting to better arm himself with the help of the Fiend.

[ 06-02-2006, 03:55 PM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ]

[Cyril Darkcloud]

The Dwarves of Shadow

The Presence has returned, of that there can be no doubting. Thorrin stands on the other side of the barrier with prisoners. All that have stood before them have been either destroyed or have fled and there is none to dispute their place before the Presence. The drumming changes its cadence and swells once more, filling the halls of the tower with the confident and unrelenting brutality of its song. Those without drums strike their weapons against their shields. From the other side of the barrier, the voice of Thorrin, deep and resonant, intones the words of the song of their defiance and of their triumph. As one the others join the chorus and the upper reaches of the tower shake under the strength of the song:

And it’s go, boys, go!
They’ll time your every breath.
And every day you’re in this place,
you’re two days nearer death.
But you goooooooooooooo! *

They are the sons of Terrakis, and their place is here and there is nothing but death for any that would contest their claim.

* From the Chemical Worker’s Song by Great Big Sea

[ 06-02-2006, 03:28 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

[Larry_OHF]

The Mage

After sending his message to allow everyone to know of his return, he realized that he had been gone away a very long time, and that many tasks needed to be dealt with. First things first. Get a report of how things were.

"Echo! Get yourself in here and talk to me!"

"Master? Is that you?...that you...you?"

Who else would be bossing you around like this, you fool! Come tell me how things are in my kingdom!

Echo presented himself to the Master.

"Oh Master! Its horrible!...its horrible...horrible!

The Tower was beseiged in your absense by Silverfall and his followers!...Silverfall and his followers...his followers.

They have slain Nanashi...slain Nanashi...Nanashi.

They attacked Grey...attacked Grey...Grey.

They stole your Candle and the Nightblade!...candle and the Nightblade...candle and the Nightblade!

Then they tried to escape...tried to escape...escape

But your servants caught two of Silverfall's friends...caught Silverfall's friends...friends

Silverfall used Shadow Magic to escape you, Powerful One!...escape you Powerful One...Powerful One.

This is my report...my report...report.

The Mage sat very still in his throne, the only visible queue that he was actually aware of what had been said was his dark fingers gripping the thone's arm rests with his fists and his eyes were mere slivers as he glared at his servant the Echo.

This went on for a few moments, and the Echo did not dare utter one more word for fear of being extinguished entirely as an NPC from this game.

Finally, the low raspy voice of the Mage intruded on the silence his anger had created.

"Bring me the prisoners."

His voice indicated that this was to be done immediately and with no dally. Echo zoomed forth through the tower to find Thorrin and echo the command of the Mage. Actually, Echo brought the command to every room and hallway within the entire tower almost at once. It resonated with its own power and made the whole Tower vibrate with the command.

[ 06-03-2006, 07:52 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

[dplax]

Andrion Wilgor

Had Andrion not sensed the spirit of the mage returning to the forums, he would have surely heard the order echoed hundredfold throughout the tower. Yet sense he did his master's return and at that very moment he knew that the danger posed by the intruders to his owl body had passed and he could safely return to the tower.

Echo's voice was still ringing in the halls when Andrion entered them through the shadow entrance. The Mage would already know of the owl entering his tower and it was Andrion's best guess that his master would want to hear his version of the facts also. Echo wasn't a bad observer, but there were some things that he could have seen, but misinterpreted.

Andrion flapped his wings and made his way towards the throne room.

[dplax]

Plaxica 85/85

A part of Plaxica felt a change suddenly descend on the lands of these inner forums. The feeling was very distant and he could not pinpoint why he felt thus, but he was sure that he had felt something. He glanced at Ramella, who smiled back at him reassuringly. She really did help Plaxica a lot. He did not know whether without meeting her again he would have been able to make the decision he had made or not.

A long time had passed since Plaxica had first entered the troubled waters of these forums as a sailor, already afflicted by this curse which flowed through his veins, poisoning his thoughts, threatening his sanity. He had made and lost many friends since then. Mormegil he had never come to know well, but Karthias, the bodyguard, he had come to consider a friend, before they got seperated.

His father, were he still alive, would never have believed that Plaxica had met a dragon, and outlived it. Yet he had not only been there when Arcades had died, but had also removed the taint from the ancient dragon's blood. Plaxica still felt the pain in his soul at his father's passing and the way in which it happened. He wished that he could have been there to prevent it. But of course then he wouldn't have met Ramella in the way that he had and Daniel might never have had been born.

Ramella's hand touched his shoulder.

"What are you thinking about?"

Plaxica noticed that he had stopped next to a large rock. He did not know how long he had been there, but he guessed not too long. Daniel was throwing pebbles at a lizard bathing in the sun on a rock a few feet away.

"I know that I shouldn't, but I've been dwelling on the past. Choices I could have made differently, decisions going the other way," he said, hugging Ramella as he did so.

The 'what if' game was a dangerous one to play. One could get lost in it for a long long time and be overcome by regret. Hindsight was such a precious gift...

Plaxica shook his head.

"No, I shouldn't think of the past. The three of us have a bright future ahead of us." It didn't sound as optimistic as he had meant for it to sound. But what he had said was right.

A new chapter was soon to begin in his life. He wouldn't be the only one writing on the pages.