The Lord of the Forums / As the Storm Passes...

[Larry_OHF]

Final Battle Details

Larry: In his throne room, facing Spree and TAO.
Spree: Facing Larry accompanied by TAO.
TAO: Facing Larry, accompanied by Spree.
Neb: Has arrived to lend aid to Larry, and has cast a spell.
Morgie: On the fourth floor, not yet in throne room.
Madman: Inside a black dragon, fighting to bring it down.
Azrael: Nearby, but unknown exactly where.
Lennon: Currently unknown location, probably the abyss.
Cyril: Outside the tower, gaining back his strength for a final blow.
Army of Light vs. Army of Shadow: Currently, Army of Light prevails.
************************************************** ******************

If I am not mistaken, it is Spree's turn to post next in the throne room. Morgie, Azreal, Lennon, and Cyril are free at the moment to make a post at anytime.

[Cyril Darkcloud]

His burned fingers are beginning to recover something of their normal range of movement and he steps from the cleft in the stones onto a ledge where he might feel once more the wind and rain of the storm. In spite of the dangers which lie ahead of him, he allows himself a smile as he breathes deeply and fills his lungs with the gusting air. Looking in the direction of the tower and the battles now taking place within it his eyes narrow and his smile is replaced by a grim hardening of his features. The matter will be decided inside that mighty and oppressive enclosure, of this he is certain. A pang of fear shoots through him as he considers the likelihood of his own death in such a contest, a battle fought between confining walls and far from the free and living air. He makes no effort to avoid or resist the fear, but simply feels it and claims it as his own - he will waste no strength in foolish attempts to deny the truth of his fear knowing that an illusory courage is as deadly an enemy as Modding Mage himself. No, he will enter that tower as one afraid and his willingness to face such fear will be his strength. ~ Soon ~ he thinks, ~ soon it will be time to discover the manner of being he is, this Modding Mage, this one called Larry. It is good that we will meet once more within that place where his might is greatest and I am weakest. ~ He smiles once more, the grim and peaceful smile of one who will do nothing other than walk the way that lies before him. ~ Yes, soon, my mighty friend, I shall stand before your power for a third and final time. ~ But preparations for this meeting remain to made and he steps once more into the cleft to ready himself.

[Killing Spree]

~The half-elf slackened her hold on the bow and arrow for the preliminary declarations of combat. Her metallic grey-blue eyes looked at Larry almost quizically. Her entire countenence was focused on puzzlement, or a deep confused hurt, like a dying animal in a trap. Her jaw previously clenched, she opened it to speak.~ "I remember those days, Larry." ~She paused, her eyes averting now to the powerful arrow clenched in her hand.~ "I remember battle and grief and pain... I remember harmony and bliss and love..." ~She shook her head with a weak smile and accompanying chuckle.~ "But most of all I remember that through it all we persevered. Through thick and thin we stood by eachother, and sought never to let our bonds die." ~Her gaze shifted to Larry.~ "But do you remember Larry? Do you remember anything of a tavern by the gate? The one you were married in? Behind which I bestowed to you the owner of a wolf pup? Where you cooked a fair batch of roadkill stew? Where Deiter ate six pop-tarts without remorse? Where Sephi cleaned tables grudgingly?" ~Her gaze narrowed and shifted to Neb.~ "Where Mistral and her sworn sister Kaz would stay? And can you recall Kaz's good friend Neb?" ~Her jaw clenched and she looked to the ground.~ "It has become apparent to me that you have forgotten the past." ~She looked at Larry.~ "And I am the bearer of the past. You of all would know this, tortured soul." ~She sighed, looking pensively at the bow and arrow.~ "And so, Larry Silverfall... You ask me here today to claim a throne. A throne that no doubt is beside you. And I stand prepared with an answer, as you tell me of the fall of good from the face of this Earth..." ~She tightened the bow string, then winced. She whispered, barely audible.~ "One where they stand, a spirit of blue, o' tortured his soul, to guide them all through." ~She looked Larry straight in the eye, pure malice tainting her gaze.~ "You have failed to guide us." ~She then let the arrow fly, aimed for Larry's heart.~

~As the arrow flew it sang, echoing painfully in the mind of the modding mage.~

Two of the fall, tears gleam silver-white, for hope of the wood, and past of the night.
One where they stand, a spirit of blue, o' tortured his soul, to guide them all through.
One collects shards, in forests of green, chaos shall reign, destiny carene.
I am the last, who seals their fate, I stand paid in red, afore the black gate.
(So is etched upon The Sealed Fate)

[Morgeruat]

Running down towards the throneroom Sir Morguerat hopes the forces he added to the battle below would be enough to turn the tide in good's favor, he rounds the corner an sees Neb casting a spell, thinking quickly he grabs a small stone and throws it, hitting neb squarely in the back of his oversized head( ) hoping that this small interruption would be enough to counter his spell, and praying that Neb hadn't finished casting yet.

[Larry_OHF]

"NO!!!!" Larry screamed and began to work a detailed pattern as the familiar of Neb's jumped from it's perch upon his shoulder, and as Neb's magical power was beginning to be unleashed, and as the arrow was coming to seek his life...in that instant, Larry completed a time-stop spell.

All stood still...All except for the arrow.

Larry could not understand how the arrow was still in flight! Only having time enough to swerve a little to the left, the arrow struck hard, landing in the right-side of his chest, piercing his lung, and sending a massive blast of energy-lightning coursing through his body. The magical attack on him caused by the arrow made the time-stop spell fail prematurely, and everyone was again free to move. Larry grabbed at the arrow and yelled in anger as he ripped it from the wound. He looked at the arrow as he fell to his knees, and as blood was dripping from his lips, he smirked at Spree and said..."Oh...one of Cyril's arrows, eh? Your own not good enough for you? He was too damned of a coward to show his face here and deliver this himself? Eh??? He had to get a girl to do his job for him??? Do you not even realize that your precious fool of a boy-friend Deiter is still here, in my dungeon! If I die, then you lose him forever, fool! At this time, as we speak, he has been undergoing some changes...~cough~some...some changes that are permanent! Hehe...~cough~ The spell only requires him to drink the blood of a wolf that he may turn into the most horrible undead creation that I have ever made! I have now released him with my thoughts...and he will soon be feeding from a wolf that I had captured just outside! So I say to you...do what you think best. Finish me now...or save the wolf AND Deiter at the same time. It's in your hands now...if he dies...for you still have time. What will you both choose?" Larry gets up from his fallen location, looks to Neb then, stumbles over to his throne, wiping the blood from his mouth on his robe sleeve.

Sitting down, he speaks to Neb..."Neb...Kill Morgie now in a most horrible manner. You have nothing else to worry about from these girls. They know what needs to be done." Larry sat back and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

[ 04-30-2002, 11:24 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Whisper has brought him the first reports of the inside of the tower. That the rooms are larger and the ceilings higher than he had anticipated is welcome news indeed. ~ Still the One Who Mods is no fool to be trifled with and he surely must suspect the danger enclosed spaces will pose. It will be wise not to place too much trust in such things as the dimensions of rooms and the heights of ceilings. ~ Even as he considers this a movement within the air of this place brings him other news – She has struck him with one of the arrows! “The moment is nearly at hand, then,” he whispers as he gathers his equipment. The burns on his arms and hands have begun to fade but he suspects that soon they may well be burned beyond hope of healing. His hand touches the locket around his neck and he reminds himself that he has not come here to die. He leaves the shelter of the cleft and steps off of the ledge into the storm. He stands suspended within the winds and opens himself once more to the violent freedom of their gusting movement. The healing made possible by the enchantment of the woman called TAO will be finished by this storm which rages with the vigor of the winds of his distant home.

[TAOWolf]

She raises her sword as Spree lets Cyril's arrow flies, and feels the spell stop time........then abruptly time moves again, and she almost stumbles catching her balance, as she watches the Modding Mage go to his knees.

She freezes though, as she hears the words he speaks......~A wolf?? NOOOO~ She thinks quickly and frantically as she re-sheaths SpiritSword, it protesting the whole time. Her eyes change to complete silver, and she turns to Spree, whispering "I will save this wolf.... remember we are not the ONLY ones who will change the tides of this battle or the outcome of it......"

She stares back at the Modding Mage, a single silver tear rolling down her cheek as the runes carved into her body begin to glow with a faint starlight blue, and she whispers thru the wind, the words carrying for his ears alone...

"Lyngheith and Lofnheith, | fled is my life,
And mighty now is my need!"

"Though a sister loses | her father, seldom
Revenge on her brother she brings."

"A daughter, woman | with wolf's heart, bear,
If thou hast no son | with the hero brave;
If one weds the maid, | for the need is mighty,
Their son for thy hurt | may vengeance seek."

"Hither the son | of Sigmund is come,
The hero eager, | here to our hall;
His courage is more | than an ancient man's,
And battle I hope | from the hardy wolf."

"Here shall I foster | the fearless prince,
Now Yngvi's heir | to us is come;
The noblest hero | beneath the sun,
The threads of his fate | all lands enfold."

As she whispers to him, her weapons seem to dissolve into the bright light around her, and as she stands bare with the plait of her waist length silver/blonde hair pulled over her left shoulder, blue flames cover her body and she raises her hands above her head, and throws her head back speaking words into the gathering wind around her as she looks straight into Spree's eyes, another single silver tear falling from eyes glowing like molten pools of silver metal with wolfs running across the waves...

"Who yonder rides | on Rævil's steeds,
O'er towering waves | and waters wild?
The sail-horses all | with sweat are dripping,
Nor can the sea-steeds | the gale withstand."

"On the sea-trees here | are Sigurth and I,
The storm wind drives us | on to our death;
The waves crash down | on the forward deck,
And the roller-steeds sink; | who seeks our names?"

"Hnikar I was | when Volsung once
Gladdened the ravens | and battle gave;
Call me the Man | from the Mountain now,
Feng or Fjolnir; | with you will I fare."

"Many the signs, | if men but knew,
That are good for the swinging of swords;
It is well, methinks, | if the warrior meets
A raven black on his road.

"Another it is | if out thou art come,
And art ready forth to fare,
To behold on the path | before thy house
Two fighters greedy of fame.

"Third it is well | if a howling wolf
Thou hearest under the ash;
And fortune comes | if thy foe thou seest
Ere thee the hero beholds.

"A man shall fight not | when he must face
The moon's bright sister setting late;
Win he shall | who well can see,
And wedge-like forms | his men for the fray.

"If thou mightest grow | thy friends among,
One might see thee fiercely fight;
But bound thou art, | and in battle taken,
And to fear are prisoners prone."

"Thou blamest me, Fafnir, | that I see from afar
The wealth that my father's was;
Not bound am I, | though in battle taken,
Thou hast found that free I live."

"In all I say | dost thou hatred see,
Yet truth alone do I tell;
The sounding gold, | the glow-red wealth,
And the rings thy bane shall be."

"Some one the hoard | shall ever hold,
Till the destined day shall come;
For a time there is | when every man
Shall journey hence to hell."

"Wise would he seem | if so he would heed
The counsel good | we sisters give;
Thought he would give, | and the ravens gladden,
There is ever a wolf | where his ears I spy."

"Less wise must be | the tree of battle
Than to me would seem | the leader of men,
If forth he lets | one brother fare,
When he of the other | the slayer is."

She claps her hands above her head, the runes carved into her hands creating a shimmering pool of flame, wind and light around her, centering above her and below her.....
The floor slowly disappears beneath her and she starts descending thru the stone.....

As she disappears from view, her hands slowly turn into the paws of a huge and beautiful silver wolf, and words float upon the shimmering air carrying to the Modding Mage filled with sorrow and regret....

"Hail, day! | Hail, sons of day!
And night and her daughter NOW!
Look on us here | with loving eyes,
That waiting we victory win."

"Winning-runes learn, | if thou longest to win,
And the runes on thy sword-hilt write;
Some on the furrow, | and some on the flat,
And twice shalt thou call on Tyr."

"Ale-runes learn, | that with lies the wife
Of another betray not thy trust;
On the horn thou shalt write, | and the backs of thy hands,
And Need shalt mark on thy nails.
Thou shalt bless the draught, | and danger escape,
And cast a leek in the cup;
(For so I know | thou never shalt see
Thy mead with evil mixed.)"

"Birth-runes learn, | if help thou wilt lend,
The babe from the mother to bring;
On thy palms shalt write them, | and round thy joints,
And ask the fates to aid."

"Wave-runes learn, | if well thou wouldst shelter
The sail-steeds out on the sea;
On the stem shalt thou write, | and the steering blade,
And burn them into the oars;
Though high be the breakers, | and black the waves,
Thou shalt safe the harbor seek."

"Branch-runes learn, | if a healer wouldst be,
And cure for wounds wouldst work;
On the bark shalt thou write, | and on trees that be
With boughs to the eastward bent."

"Speech-runes learn, | that none may seek
To answer harm with hate;
Well he winds | and weaves them all,
And sets them side by side,
At the judgment-place, | when justice there
The folk shall fairly win."

"Thought-runes learn, | if all shall think
Thou art keenest minded of men.
On the wolf's claws bared, | and the eagle's beak,
On bloody wings, | and bridge's end,
On freeing hands | and helping foot-prints."

"On glass and on gold, | and on goodly charms,
In wine and in beer, | and on well-loved seats,
On Gungnir's point, | and on Grani's breast,
On the nails of Norns, | and the night-owl's beak."

"Shaved off were the runes | that of old were written,
And mixed with the holy mead,
And sent on ways so wide;
So the gods had them, | so the elves got them,
And some for the Wanes so wise,
And some for mortal men."

"Beech-runes are there, | birth-runes are there,
And all the runes of ale,
And the magic runes of might;
Who knows them rightly | and reads them true,
Has them himself to help;
Ever they aid, Till the gods are gone."

The flames flare upwards, skywards blowing out the top of the ceiling as the last of the words float upon the air, and a soft whisper reaches across time, to the one who it matters...

"a' tighinn, sniomh thoir gu buil, a' tighinn agus a' criochnachadh na dileaban"......

Spree finds in her hand a sapphire hilted dagger with a solid ebony blade carved with the rune, FEHU........

The Poetic Edda"

[ 05-01-2002, 04:13 AM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

[Neb]

(OOC: Original post removed. Altered to something less munchkinny.)

Neb's spell was disrupted, but only partially. The forces that he'd summoned were still there but now uncontrolled, normally that wouldn't be TOO bad, but his familiar was busily attempting to wreck all magic in it's vicinity and twist it around. Somehow the spell retained some of it's original purpose though.

Instead of giant tentacles sprouting from the floor and crushing all within reach giant flowers grew instead, the sorcerer glared at them, "Damnable chaos, oh well, I suppose it could've been worse. I could have been crushed by one of the tentacles or somethi-" At that moment one of the flowers topple, it crashes to the floor with a loud boom, only missing Neb because he threw himself aside at the last moment.

This inspires him, and he attempts to cause one of the flowers still upright to fall on Morguerat. Not daring to use any of his spells due to the chaos aura he instead runs into one of them shoulder-first. As he slams into the plant he prays quietly that it'll work.

[ 05-01-2002, 01:13 PM: Message edited by: Neb ]

[LennonCook]

OOC:Havent been able to post in this thread till now ... consider this travelling back in time a bit... it occurs about half a millisecond after Nebs ...thing... hits Simbarl. DUR DUR DUR DURM, DUR DUR DUR DURM, OOOOOOOO EEEEEEE OOOOO

As the claw makes contact, Simbarl screams audibly, and time seems to stand still for several moments.
His arms hanging almost limp, still clutching the weapons he held to fight... on his face a look of pain, and terror... his armour and under garments torn to shreds around his lower torso... through his very stumoch, a long deadly claw... a claw connected to the phileet. The paw moves slowly through the space, as Simbarls body shatters like glass into several billion pieces... the paw moves with a gradually quickening pace... as it hits the ground, time returns to normal...

[Morgeruat]

Breathing a sigh of relief that his horrible dream of calamari and grass was just a daydream, Sir Morguerat failed to notice Neb pushing a giant flower in his direction, he quickly realized his mistake as the air was knocked from him, and he was pinned under an enormous daffodil.

*grunting* At least it wasn't another portal to the elemental plane of alcohol again.


OOC: thanx neb I wasn't looking forward to being killed off and eaten by a phileet in the middle of a grass seed

{edited to adjust for Neb's edit}

[ 05-01-2002, 01:25 PM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ]