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

[Salinye]

Senora-60/60

Warm…embracing…rejuvenating…

These are words Senora would use to describe the feeling of the sun shining through the leaves of the treetops down onto her face. Breathing in the forest scents, she was reminded why she was always able to do some of her best meditating when among nature. With her eyes closed she slowly became attuned to everything around her. The cushioned and slightly damp feeling of the moss covered ground that she sat upon. The sounds of a near by brook trickling carelessly over the rocky terrain that marked its course. Birds, not only singing, but also taking flight from one branch to another. A gentle breeze wafting through the small clearing, caressing her already sun-warmed face and softly swaying her long red locks. The priestess felt a peace settle within her as she relaxed in preparation of entering into a deeper meditative state.

Hatred…bloodlust…murderous intent…

These are the emotions that violently ripped through Senora’s peaceful state of being. They were invasive and hostile without the usual warning or build up. Kill! Kill! Kill! The feeling of wanting to rip someone limb from limb-a justified desire. A hate so dark it was almost pure and yet legitimate. Evil…hatred…demonic… The feelings left the elf as abruptly as they had come upon her. The drastic nature of the psychic invasion was so unusual and unexpected that before she could regain control over her own mind she slumped back, the moss giving her head a natural pillow, and sunk into the blissful nothingness of unconsciousness.

…Sometime later…

Bolting upright the first thing Senora became aware of was the echo of a scream fading through the forest. Had she cried out? She wasn’t sure all she knew was that the scream could only be bad news. If the cry was from someone else, then whatever it was that she had felt could be nearer to her than she liked. How long was I unconscious? If the scream had been from her then she risked drawing the attention of whatever evil being she had felt. There is more shade here than before. The sun no longer falls upon my face. Scrambling to her feet Senora drew the hood of her cloak up around her face and gathered her pack onto her back. She had no idea which direction was safe and which presented danger. She did however realize that she didn’t have more than an hour before the last bit of daylight would leave the forest for the night and if she had to face danger, she’d rather do it in the light.

Making a quick decision she headed to the east where she knew the edge of the forest met with a common traveling trail. She hadn’t yet allowed herself to examine the nature of the psychic waves that had caused her to black out, as she needed to keep her wits about her. However, she knew that the unusual experience left her filled with uncertainty. There would be time for introspect later, now she only wished to avoid the being that held such vile emotions within it. She couldn’t help but pity it.

[ 03-28-2005, 03:44 AM: Message edited by: Salinye ]

[Elif Godson]

Vincent Pathfinder 98/98

With a deep breath, taking in life, he smiled and slightly shivered. Looking around the room and then letting his eye's fall back on the woman that had brought him back from the void he smiled." Well met Annarima, and Thank you. You are truly blessed and the god's favor you much to give you such a gift. Marcos, welcome back, open your eye's and cover yerself, yer in the prescene of a Lady hehe. It is good to be back, but where has the enemy gone, are they vanquished or still about? If so we need to take measures that they do not do this again, I would hate to go back so soon. "With that he slowly stretched making sure his joints and muscles were working properly to pick himself. Looking around he gathered up some of his scattered belongings. " So, what are we to do now. I need some items before I can be of any use, a shirt would be nice." he said this with a hopeful look on his face.

[ 03-29-2005, 04:22 PM: Message edited by: Elif Godson ]

[Bozos of Bones]

Kynnen 84/85

The barred window caught Kynnen's attention. It was big enough to go out through it, if he could get the wooden planks out of the way. The planks were just piled up on the sill, large nails barely holding them together. The new arrivals must have ordered all exits blocked. he thought when he heard a silent poundng on wood far away, probably on the other side of the castle. Kynnen looked outside through a crack between the planks, and saw noone. He gripped the top plank with both hands, and gave a slow pull, to see how much noise it would make to pull it apart. Even if someone heard it, they'd just think it was someone barring a window. Kynnen hoped. He took hold of the planks at the sides, and pulled the whole barricade down, making much more noise than he anticipated. He neared the window and looked around to see if there was anyone there who can see him.

[dplax]

OOC: Part 8a of Andrion's history.

The journey south lasted two months, but Andrion stopped several times in inns and taverns. His desire to learn of the power which the amulet gave was great, yet it seemed that his magical skills were not sufficient enough for him to be able to identify it. Each and every night he spent in taverns he racked his brain trying to recall any knowledge he might have had of it. Tunninni had called it the amulet of Xewals. Andrion had never heard of the name.

Stopping in a town, somewhat larger than the villages he had been in before, he headed to the library. The librarian was an old, white haired man.

"I am looking for information on something called Xewals. It might be a person, but could also be a race, artifact or creature."

The old man thought for several minutes.

"I'm sorry I can't recall us having anything on this." - he still seemed to be deep in thought though. "Ah yes. Now I remember. Xewals the ancient lich. If I remember correctly he lived in the northlands and was eventually defeated by a black dragon. We do have an ancient tome on him, but it is in the restricted section of the library, due to descriptions of dark magics I believe. You shall need an authorization to have access to it."

"I have no authorization and I won't give you one. But you shall bring me that tome. Otherwise you shall meet the fate of the black dragon, who most unfortunately deceased seventeen days ago. I killed him. So hurry up and bring me that book."

Terror was in the old man's eyes as he rushed towards the back of the library. Andrion followed him, not wanting any surprises. The librarian reached a section of ancient tomes and picked one on the top shelf handing it to Andrion.

"You mind if I don't bring this back? No? Great. Good day to you."

He judged it wiser not to stay in the town for that night though. He camped in the forest next to the town and by the light of the small fire he made he studied the book.

"...and so it came to be that the evil mage known as Xewals disappeared one day. Great was the joy of those he had terrorised, yet they rejoiced early. Xewals returned seven winters later in a terrible form..."

"...legend has it that the powerful lich, Xewals created many powerful artifacts...fifth was an amulet, the properties of which he never revealed, but it is said that only a mage, evil like him could use it...this amulet was the only of the powerful artifacts not recovered after the lich's demise..."

"...it was three hundred and thirteen years after his transformation that Xewals was finally vanquished...after a long battle against several dragons, a battle which only the black dragon Feldsproth survived..."

You are dead now Feldsproth - Andrion thought to himself. He then threw the ancient tome on the fire. It hadn't told him anything new and he already knew about most of the dark magics in there anyway. He took the amulet out of his pocket setting it on a small rock in front of him.

Why don't you reveal your secrets to me? - he stared at the amulet. The burning pages of the book started moving with the heat of the fire. Then a page caught Andrion's eye. It contained the picture of an amulet. Swiftly grabbing it out of the fire he observed the page. The bottom half of the text had been burnt, but the picture of the amulet was still visible. Comparing it to the amulet on the rock ahead of him he saw that they were the same. The page told Andrion that the amulet was called the Amulet of Shimmering Invisibility and had been created thousands of years before Xewals ever turned into a lich.

So the cunning lich had only modified the enchantment on it - Andrion thought to himself smiling - and then the amulet lay for years in the hoard of Feldsproth no one realising what it really was. Only the beginning of the description of the powers of the amulet was available on the page, but Andrion now knew enough about it to know what properties to look for.

It took him three days of using powerful magic on the amulet to find out its powers, and during all this time he remained in the small campground he had made in the forest. But eventually he found out all about it and was pretty sure that using the amulet would not pose any danger, for him.

OOC: expect a PM sometime later about the amulet, Larry. I'll finish the history first however.

[Morgeruat]

Reaper

What is good? The ancient question. Good was a meaningless concept to one such as the Reaper, it was a question that perplexed him, but the answer was a truth he clung to, a remnant of days of honor, like precious few others he held to. His soul was a blackened pit, a fell wasteland of hatred and deceit. Those who would be his generals, admirals, captains, and commanders first had to answer that very question however. Those who answered incorrectly were fed to the wolfweres or the Render. And yet he had not asked the drow this question yet. His situation was dire, surrounded on all sides by those who would do good, or at least see evil brought low. The keep was far beyond his lands, out of his influence, but that hardly meant anything.

Peering into his ball he focused on the Drow elf Kynnen, focussing hard enough to ensure the drow knew he was being observed, and sent a message. A question of the ages as ancient as the Riddle of Steel. Into the mind of Kynnen a simple question was posed. "What is good?" The answe would determine the fate of the drow thought the Reaper as he watched the face of his servant. Would he be fed to the wolves, or promoted. A simple question that was nonetheless much deeper than it seemed, and would determine the fate of the drow, whether he escaped, or not.

ooc: I've been watching Conan the Barbarian lately, if you've seen it recently you should know the answer. [img]smile.gif[/img]

[ 03-28-2005, 03:28 PM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ]

[dplax]

OOC: Part 8b of Andrion's history. Last part as of now.

Three years had passed since the demise of Feldsproth, and during those three years Andrion did nothing but wander the northern lands of the world. His amulet served him well whenever he got into tight situations and his self confidence slowly grew.

Andrion knew that some people he had angered earlier were still looking for him, and although it would have been customary for him as a mage to choose a tower to live in, for this reason he chose a simple house. The house he bought from the money gained from the Jeripion-job was only a middle-sized one, but it had a basement. A basement, which during the years Andrion expanded and installed different laboratories and storage rooms in.

Two years later a strange, old man came to the small town where Andrion now peacefully lived. He caused a great turmoil with his arrival, as he brought tidings of a powerful mage. A mage, who it was said dwelt deep in the magic of shadow. Andrion later learned that the old man had come from a different dimension, to which the man had referred as Ironworks.

This mage seemed to be pretty powerful and Andrion wondered whether he could replace this mage. The old man had spoken about a possible way to reach this other world. A mystical world controlled by a cat, and his minion Ziroc. A world where there were several subforums. And a game. A game to choose the Lord of the Forums.

Fascinated by this world and attracted by the shadow, although not knowing this Andrion set out to enter this world. It took him a long time, until he found the entrance, but during all this time his desire to challenge this strange mage grew, and it even started overshadowing his reason.

Finally he reached a location where he could move between the different worlds. He left his own world and after a brief spell in the world of shadow he entered the world of Ironworks.

It took him several long weeks until he reached the Shadow Tower. Admitted by the mage he realised that challenging this being was futile. It was only several weeks later, when already in the service of the mage that he realised the way in which the shadow influence had manipulated him. Using his desire for power it tricked him into believing that he could challenge the Shadow Mage, when in reality he had just been taken to the one previously known as Larry Silverfall in order to have the shadow gain a new servant.

[dplax]

Andrion Wilgor 22/22

Nothing. Towards the south all was deserted. Not even his owl-enhanced sight could discern anything unusual. And certainly nothing resembling Larry or those he was with. Andrion didn't even know who Larry was with. He could be anywhere in this world, but if Andrion kept going towards the south he would miss Larry if he was close to the castle still. Andrion turned and made his way towards the Northwest, so that he would be west of the castle in a few hours time.

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Elsewhere – A place terribly close to the Sky

Terrakis

He is prepared for this. As the axe flies toward him the giant swings his sword downward to arrest the attack upon his knee, an attack that, added to the wounds he has already received, would likely leave him crippled. Always the Hated seeks to destroy his opponent’s ability to move, but this opponent is ready. The sword sweeps downward intercepting the flight of the axe but there is neither the feel nor the sound of contact with the tangible to meet the movement of the great blade. There is only the dimmest of flashes as the axe simply vanishes from sight. He looks up, eyes wide in surprise and rage. The movement of his head is followed by a burst of pain in his throat as the unforgiving bite of the axe strikes him at his weakest point. A hoarse and strangled gurgling replaces his voice as air no longer flows through his broken windpipe. It is finished, simple inability to breathe will leave him dead in mere minutes.

These are minutes that he will be denied, however, for already the bow is drawn. An arrow whose shaft is etched with runic markings streaks forward trailing a silver streak of lightning behind it. The concussion of a great clap of thunder forcibly expels whatever wind remained in his lungs and the terrible heat of the lightning, the great enemy of shadow, lodges itself within his limbs, filling his body with pain. In the wake of the thunder all is in silence, the pain of the lightning bringing even his futile efforts to breathe to a stop. Somewhere off to the side there is a silver glow and the quiet arcing of lightning from within the glow is the only sound.

“Child of the Devourer,” the voice is but the merest of whispers yet it rings within his hearing, its words pressing with painful insistence upon his eardrums, “the fate of that one who raised you is the fate that now awaits you ......” The wind has fallen still, horribly still, yet there is an activity within the air, something aggressive within the stillness, something silent, something that has been waiting. “The outsiders move about with the names of their gods always on their lips, as if prattling vessels of breath and bone might speak such things at no cost to themselves. They are fools.” Even the empty air within his lungs begins to ..... swell? Expand? “Those that live close to the Sky do not invoke their gods in casual breathing, nor profane their names by contact with outsider ears.” There is a vast and silent emptiness, still and frightening, within him and around him, vacant save for the burning pain of lightning in his limbs. “You are no true outsider, however, for you are the adopted of the Devourer and the gods of the Sky People have claimed you and have passed their judgment.” The whisper falls silent and the silver glowing of lightning grows brighter, a glow whose shape is strangely like the head of an axe.

He has not sufficient breath even for a dying word, nor time to gather a dying thought. He deserves more than this, he who has been so compelling a character, so mighty a warrior, so terrifying a nightmare, but here there is neither respect nor dignity. There is only an ending.

A word is spoken, a word so quiet as to verge on being nothing other than silence itself. Within the word there is a Name, a Name vast in its simplicity and unending in its depth. And at the speaking of the Name the Sky itself presses heavily downward as if to swallow the whole of this barren land and all found within it. There is a swift and silent movement as the silver glow of lightning swings upward and then falls with merciless impact. One final time the blade of the Stormreaver bites into the giant and a body mighty in limb and fearsome in size falls dead upon this barren ground so close to the Sky.

The stillness then erupts as a bitter, chilling wind seizes the fleeing spirit the giant, snatching it into its gusting movement and tearing it to pieces, dispersing its fragments outward and away from one another to be lost, for ever scattered within the unending and silent vastness of the Sky. Even the body of the giant is lifted by the wind, broken down and likewise dispersed. The dust that soaked up his blood is caught up by the Scattering and even the distant echoes of his voice are seized and broken and lost until all that remains of great Terrakis are but scant scraps of memory.

[ 03-28-2005, 10:53 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

[Larry_OHF]

The Shadow Mage

He stood there despite the blowing winds, on the sidelines of the arena where his champion fought and lost. The Mage drew his darkened hands into tight fists, popping the knuckles to create sounds that soon became lost in the hustle of these vile winds. He listened to the words that Cyril spoke to Terrakis, and hated each syllable, for each word was as an arrow shot into the Shade's skin.

But what could he do? While Cyril stood there and gloated, what could The Shadow Mage do in this world? It was not his world, and he held no moderating powers here at all. He tried to think, tried to work out a plan...but he could not get it out of his mind that Cyril had again beat him.

The shade was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he lost track of what the Windbringer was saying, and so missed whatever spell or whatever was cast, but suddenly the world seemed to be ending, and he watched in confessed awe as the powers of the wind ripped apart the giant and scattered him into nothingness.

He turned to look again at the flying rat that was Cyril's familiar.

"Why don't you go tell your master that I would like to have a chat with him."

[Larry_OHF]

For Kynnen:

You look out the window and realize that you are at the back-side of the castle. The ruins of the fallen tower can be seen to your left, but have fallen toward the other direction. Your drow ears can detect many voices amongst the rubble as they scavange through the wastes in search of what you suppose would be the remains of Larry Silverfall and who knows who else.

You could escape undetected, maybe, but just then you receive a signal from your Master...and he has asked you a question for which you feel compelled to answer.

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

For Andrion the Owl:

Such an odd fate as this that has befallen the great Andrion...diminished in glory to that of a dark-feathered nocturnal bird of prey. It could be worse.

The flight of the owl takes him North-West, and he searches with his beady little eyes for signs of the passing of Silverfall. There are no signs of passage by any human yet to be seen. Realizing that the portal could have dropped them miles from the castle fuels his reason to continue searching.

[ 03-29-2005, 07:31 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]