The Lord of the Forums, Aftermath III>>>Death in the Shadows - Page 24

Cyril Darkcloud · 11-30-2003, 10:28 PM

ooc: As this scene is rather long I am breaking it up into 2 posts

Elsewhere - A windsept ledge at the heart of the storms

Cyril and the Devouring Wind

“It is time.” His whisper is small within the mighty rage of the storm, small enough to pass unnoticed by any living ear. Indeed, within the shrieking of the winds, even the greatest of shouts would seem nothing more than an absurd and noiseless movement of lips and lungs. A whisper such as this has no right to be heard, but such a whisper as this insists upon a hearing and the foolish movement of sound bearing breath flows defiantly through the gusting of wind and the flashing of lightning and the falling of rain to the numbing and malicious silence to which it would speak.

“It is time.” Absurdly whispered speech is reduced to absurdly abrupt muteness within the Laughing Stillness that eagerly consumes it. The breath of the grave devours the breath of the living and even the storm roils with the still complacency of a mirthful hatred secure in its victory.

Yes! ...... O! Yeeeeeeeeeesss! It is time ......... Yes!

“Yes,” he says quietly. “It is time.” Drawing a deep breath of the violent air about him he tilts his head back and intones the notes of the Song of the Storm. He holds his axes out at arms length from his body and his face takes on a harshly ecstatic aspect as life moves out from his bare hands through the axes to mingle with the storm. A killing storm, such was his shield within these mountains during the struggle against the One called Larry. A killing storm such was that which has been taken over by the Devourer. A killing storm whose movement once summoned demands the life breath of those trapped within it. One does not control such a storm -- one enters it, feels its freedom and moves – and if one would change so mighty a wind, one must first change himself. Burns move along his arms at the pace with which life pours out of him. His voice softens in tone and in time to the quiet note it sounds he brings the axes violently together. A peal of thunder shakes the Inner Forums, a shocking note followed by an equally shocking silence as the winds fall still and the clouds begin to disperse.

He collapses to his knees gasping for breath in the thin and newly stilled air of this high and lonely place. And as he does so the mocking laughter finds him.

Such a splendid fool! ..... O! Yes! ..... Such great sport you bring and so splendid a taste there is to your foolish hoping ..... Fool! You cannot hope to stop what I have done here any more than you can hope to survive what is to come ..... O! Yes! ...... It is time, finally it is time!

“It is time,” he repeats, his voice hoarse from the strain of the song and his breathing still coming in intermittent gasps. He smiles, then, as the small owl returns. “I have no intention of stopping what you have done here,” he says as he rises. “Those foolish enough to have begun this game again are well left to their fate and their living and dying is theirs to struggle for and against.” From a pouch upon his belt he withdraws a small clay vessel. “It is time,” he says once more and as his burned fingers touch the runic marks of the vessel another wind, the wind of another game and another place moves about him. “But first .....” he whispers. It is some time before he can continue. Breathing is difficult within the bitter Exiling Wind and speech even moreso, especially so defiant a speaking as this ......

Continued below ....

Cyril Darkcloud · 11-30-2003, 10:29 PM

.... Continued from above

..... Clasping the vessel in his right hand, the burned fingers of his left reach into the pocket of his cloak and withdraw a small wooden band. “Storm struggling against shadow, that was how this game has been understood by most until the fall of the One called Larry. But what has gone overlooked, by you as well it would seem, is that two rings were involved in the great battle.” He pauses once more, defiantly resisting the movement of the Exiling Wind that he might continue. “The One Ring, that of Ziroc himself, now rests again with its maker. But this wooden band was that which sustained and restored my strength against the Modding Mage. This piece of wood which granted no power in the end prevailed against the might of the other.” He smiles, a harsh and resigned smile. “I am the Vessel,” he whispers. “And the Vessel must be broken .....” He turns his face upward and his eyes move through the clear skies to find the Great Nomad, the star that wanders always yet is never lost. He thinks, then, of she who will one day be again his daughter, of she for whom he bears the Exiling Curse. “The Vessel must be broken,” he repeats, a desperate and defiant hopefulness shining in his eyes, “and a Vessel that is to be broken needs place no trust and no hope in such a thing as this.” He opens his burned fingers and the ring tumbles downward from the ledge into the ravines below. His voice is choked with emotion as he continues, “Nor have I. For I bear yet upon my body the wounds I received from the hands of the Mage, wounds only the ring would heal, and I have not worn that ring since that day.”

What?????

“It is good to see that something, however, small might surprise you,” he whispers. “I repeat to you now what you spoke to the woman whose throat is caged with silver – One does not control the wind. One enters it feels its freedom and moves ......” With a sudden movement he shatters the vessel within his hand and as the breathing of the day of his Exile is released he continues, “I have borne the price of change within me ..... Let us see, then, you and I whose freedom is greater as the Exiling Wind carries us back once more to where life is lived and life is ended close to the skies.”

Yes! Let us see. O! Let us see! ...... Long have I waited for this ..... and with your breaking comes my freedom ......

...... It rises swiftly, a Wind unlike any that has ever moved within these Forums, a wind that bears away both the breath of the grave and a man weak and exhausted who sways within it like a curiously defiant blade of grass. They are gone then, the two of them, and naught remains where the silent stormwalker stood save a small pouch of seeds, seeds of the strangely curious and persistent grass that snatched life out of the dead soil of this broken land, seeds of that same grass that was so easily consumed by the Devouring Wind .......

They are gone and when the one who tells their story returns again to these forums so far from the sky, the Vessel will have been broken and one of these two shall be no more.

[ 11-30-2003, 10:30 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

Cyril Darkcloud · 11-30-2003, 10:31 PM

Departing DM Notes:

ooc: My apologies for the length. The only way to remove the Devouring Wind from the story at this point was to risk the destruction of the Cyril character and that could not quickly told. With these events having taken place the following can also be assumed:

1. The DW is no longer controlling Zhydo’rah, the night hag. She can either fade into the background or she can be taken up into the tale of the Morguerat formerly known as ‘Sir.’ Thus, I bequeath her to Morgeruat’s discretion and RP energy.
2. Dantes – Between the PMs I’ve already sent to you and to Larry, you should have enough info to work with the runestones. If not let me know.
3. Larry there are a number of ways now open to concluding the story – let me know if you need a bit of help.
4. The way to destroying the Hunger and to defeating the Shadow Giants have already been prepared – the party simply needs to figure them out and move forward – Larry should have the necessary details in his possession.
5. TAO – the DW, quite obviously, is no longer directing the Banewolves, and I belive you have enough info to play on..
6. Cyril’s ring is up for grabs [subject to Larry’s ruling] – afterall what is LOF without a ring to fight over?
7. The storms within the mountains have fallen still and travel overland between the Inner and Outer Forums is again possible. Of course, the Hunger remains ......

[ 11-30-2003, 10:32 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

Cyril Darkcloud · 11-30-2003, 10:37 PM

A Final Note:

As I am concerned about the fairness of saddling Larry with the task of managing a game that might stretch on indefinitely -- especially given the sporadic nature of our posting over these last few months -- I have set up a scenario by which the story will resolve itself and allow this game to end and a new one to be started.

This is very much a 'Doomsday' solution, and one that scares even me [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img] and the clock is running on it effective as of this post.

[ 11-30-2003, 10:37 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

TAOWolf · 12-02-2003, 06:19 PM

O.o ~jaw drops~

ooOOOoooo....nice Cyril...

IC:
Her hearing fades, and then her eyes..... she moves her head sluggishly left and right....."What ....is...hap......"

Then, for a brief moment, sight and hearing return, along with the sound of whispering wings upon the wind, and a gift......

She looks as the owl drops an object into her upraised palms, and smiles quickly, leaving no time for contemplation as precious seconds race on...

"Windbringer..........thank you...." She shifts immediately to a shadowy wolf form, and races across the lands, away from what she now knows was banewolfs.... the ancient terror of her kind...

Carrying the clasp in her mouth, the moonstone around her neck glows in the darkening evening as she races thru the shadows towards the distant mountains of the other side of the valley...

She missteps only once, as she feels the current of winds change and shift thru the forums, but runs on as a singler silver tear rolls down her muzzle, and she lifts her voice in a soft song of tribute to the WindBringer..........

[ 12-02-2003, 06:21 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

Larry_OHF · 12-07-2003, 10:21 PM

OOC>>>As I am told by a certain whispering Wind...chaos and ruin are just around the corner, waiting to destroy the forums that we know and love. In order to prevent this from happening, action must take place! Slothfulness brings forth the fruits of decay, the stench of death.

Therefore, as nobody seems intersted in continuing the search for Brendon and freeing him from his entombed state...where the party was going to be pleased enough to find another missing companion from earlier chapters...the table has turned. The DM has taken up his dice and rolled them against you all. Fate has decided to find you, as you cannot find it anymore. This fate is bitter, and many will pay the price for not acting sooner.

Death hunts for you

IC>>>

The time had come. Too long had she waited for the party that would become brave dead fools to arrive and make their stand against her. Too long had she waited to take over this expanse of darkness under the Forums. She was no longer going to wait and let some wild creature devour them in their lost and hopeless state. She made the call. The Grimlocks, Shadow Hounds and she herself were going to go find them and end this NOW!

The hunt began.

OOC>>>You are being hunted. By my calculations...that means that you have one real-time day per cave level before you are found. It would equal hours in game-time. However, I will be nice and give everybody a chance to see this message and shit their pants before running like babies or standing like brave fools. The choices you make may keep you alive long enough to see the end of a fantastic story that Cyril and I have devised. Will you make it to the conclusion? Hmmm...I have my doubts. Thus, prove me wrong. Do not let this army find you ill-prepared. Be ready to fight when you see it hit, or your characters will be destroyed without you being here to even see it!

You have until Friday Night.

Note to Tao: You are not being hunted by this menace, but if you can keep away from those banewolves, you might been in a good vantage point to see the army advancing,,,and alert those that are being hunted. You can choose to stand ground with them if you like...OR...you might go back to her lair while the others are dying and see to Brendon and Rhianneth...whichever you think best.

The game is now open to posting.

[ 12-07-2003, 10:21 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

Morgeruat · 12-08-2003, 09:24 AM

Saithele

The group had spent several days in conference, what were they thinking, had they forgotten the horrors they were supposed to be facing, apparently they had. He had decided then to leave them behind, his spells and trained elven stealth would allow him to pass unnoticed in these lightless realms (ooc: or so he believes) he would leave the group behind to their own ends, while he went in search of brendon, the fool had taken the sword and then abandoned the group with it, if he died in the tunnels the sword could lie unclaimed in the tunnels for decades, or worse, it could end up in the hands of a drowish refugee, or serving an orc lord, and that was not a fate he would let a weapon he had crafted suffer. and so while the group conferred once more, with still no clear idea when they would move out he sat in the shadows as he normally did, and softly chanted the words to a spell.

Larry_OHF · 12-08-2003, 10:19 AM

DM Note: Per your PM, Morgie...your spell was successful and nobody noticed your disappearance during the casting. You are free to roam the caverns. If you so choose, post the directions you take and I will watch you on my map. Your elvish eyes should make out footprints, so you should not have too much trouble but there will be "some" trouble.

Anarrima HP 60/60

She had been listening to the bickering of the others in who should lead, who should scout, who should take up the rear, and if they should even go after Brendon or turn and hunt for the giants instead. Everyone seemed to be on thier own, never wanting to go with the plan of another, and the disorder of their group had taken it's toll. Now one of them had left the party at some point. Nobody even knew how long he had been missing.

OOC>>>For those of you that were in the original party that were witness to two other party members just disappearing (Mistral and Cerek's PCs), your wonder at the new disappearance should trouble you moreso than the others. Maybe somebody is picking off members one at a time, hunting each of us in turn. This unsettled feeling will reflect on the newer party members who have elvish feelings and can sense your thoughts.

[ 12-08-2003, 10:21 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

TAOWolf · 12-09-2003, 11:41 AM

as she races closer and closer to the mountains, a mist starts to fall over the valley, and the moonstone around her neck glows brighter as she nears the spot of the ley lines she is racing to... the banewolves cannot enter the ley lines, and as soon as she steps one foot in, already warding herself against the corruption, she will start an ancient spell.....calling to the one she seeks who is the only hope.....

Morgeruat · 12-10-2003, 08:33 AM

The Shadow, aka Saithele

The passageways were cramped, closed and help an overpowering sense of danger that would not be dispelled. But the elf would not be deterred, he followed the trail as well as he could, and when he could no longer see it he travelled in a series of left turns, making sure to mark the walls with charcoal. It might alert other creatures as to his path, but preventing him from backtracking was more important, most of the creatures of the underforum he could dispatch quickly, and the ones he couldn't, he had a few tricks to make sure he could flee. He took no special care to ensure he wasn't leaving tracks, if the others began moving and wanted to follow him they might arrive when he needed them, and as for unfriendly forces, they could just as easily come from in front of him, and if htey were trailing him he hoped to at least be moving quickly enough that they would be slowed down by following his tracks.

11-30-2003, 10:28 PM	#231
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	ooc: As this scene is rather long I am breaking it up into 2 posts Elsewhere - A windsept ledge at the heart of the storms Cyril and the Devouring Wind “It is time.” His whisper is small within the mighty rage of the storm, small enough to pass unnoticed by any living ear. Indeed, within the shrieking of the winds, even the greatest of shouts would seem nothing more than an absurd and noiseless movement of lips and lungs. A whisper such as this has no right to be heard, but such a whisper as this insists upon a hearing and the foolish movement of sound bearing breath flows defiantly through the gusting of wind and the flashing of lightning and the falling of rain to the numbing and malicious silence to which it would speak. “It is time.” Absurdly whispered speech is reduced to absurdly abrupt muteness within the Laughing Stillness that eagerly consumes it. The breath of the grave devours the breath of the living and even the storm roils with the still complacency of a mirthful hatred secure in its victory. Yes! ...... O! Yeeeeeeeeeesss! It is time ......... Yes! “Yes,” he says quietly. “It is time.” Drawing a deep breath of the violent air about him he tilts his head back and intones the notes of the Song of the Storm. He holds his axes out at arms length from his body and his face takes on a harshly ecstatic aspect as life moves out from his bare hands through the axes to mingle with the storm. A killing storm, such was his shield within these mountains during the struggle against the One called Larry. A killing storm such was that which has been taken over by the Devourer. A killing storm whose movement once summoned demands the life breath of those trapped within it. One does not control such a storm -- one enters it, feels its freedom and moves – and if one would change so mighty a wind, one must first change himself. Burns move along his arms at the pace with which life pours out of him. His voice softens in tone and in time to the quiet note it sounds he brings the axes violently together. A peal of thunder shakes the Inner Forums, a shocking note followed by an equally shocking silence as the winds fall still and the clouds begin to disperse. He collapses to his knees gasping for breath in the thin and newly stilled air of this high and lonely place. And as he does so the mocking laughter finds him. Such a splendid fool! ..... O! Yes! ..... Such great sport you bring and so splendid a taste there is to your foolish hoping ..... Fool! You cannot hope to stop what I have done here any more than you can hope to survive what is to come ..... O! Yes! ...... It is time, finally it is time! “It is time,” he repeats, his voice hoarse from the strain of the song and his breathing still coming in intermittent gasps. He smiles, then, as the small owl returns. “I have no intention of stopping what you have done here,” he says as he rises. “Those foolish enough to have begun this game again are well left to their fate and their living and dying is theirs to struggle for and against.” From a pouch upon his belt he withdraws a small clay vessel. “It is time,” he says once more and as his burned fingers touch the runic marks of the vessel another wind, the wind of another game and another place moves about him. “But first .....” he whispers. It is some time before he can continue. Breathing is difficult within the bitter Exiling Wind and speech even moreso, especially so defiant a speaking as this ...... Continued below .... __________________ One does not control the Wind. One enters it, feels its freedom. And moves.

11-30-2003, 10:29 PM	#232
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	.... Continued from above ..... Clasping the vessel in his right hand, the burned fingers of his left reach into the pocket of his cloak and withdraw a small wooden band. “Storm struggling against shadow, that was how this game has been understood by most until the fall of the One called Larry. But what has gone overlooked, by you as well it would seem, is that two rings were involved in the great battle.” He pauses once more, defiantly resisting the movement of the Exiling Wind that he might continue. “The One Ring, that of Ziroc himself, now rests again with its maker. But this wooden band was that which sustained and restored my strength against the Modding Mage. This piece of wood which granted no power in the end prevailed against the might of the other.” He smiles, a harsh and resigned smile. “I am the Vessel,” he whispers. “And the Vessel must be broken .....” He turns his face upward and his eyes move through the clear skies to find the Great Nomad, the star that wanders always yet is never lost. He thinks, then, of she who will one day be again his daughter, of she for whom he bears the Exiling Curse. “The Vessel must be broken,” he repeats, a desperate and defiant hopefulness shining in his eyes, “and a Vessel that is to be broken needs place no trust and no hope in such a thing as this.” He opens his burned fingers and the ring tumbles downward from the ledge into the ravines below. His voice is choked with emotion as he continues, “Nor have I. For I bear yet upon my body the wounds I received from the hands of the Mage, wounds only the ring would heal, and I have not worn that ring since that day.” What????? “It is good to see that something, however, small might surprise you,” he whispers. “I repeat to you now what you spoke to the woman whose throat is caged with silver – One does not control the wind. One enters it feels its freedom and moves ......” With a sudden movement he shatters the vessel within his hand and as the breathing of the day of his Exile is released he continues, “I have borne the price of change within me ..... Let us see, then, you and I whose freedom is greater as the Exiling Wind carries us back once more to where life is lived and life is ended close to the skies.” Yes! Let us see. O! Let us see! ...... Long have I waited for this ..... and with your breaking comes my freedom ...... ...... It rises swiftly, a Wind unlike any that has ever moved within these Forums, a wind that bears away both the breath of the grave and a man weak and exhausted who sways within it like a curiously defiant blade of grass. They are gone then, the two of them, and naught remains where the silent stormwalker stood save a small pouch of seeds, seeds of the strangely curious and persistent grass that snatched life out of the dead soil of this broken land, seeds of that same grass that was so easily consumed by the Devouring Wind ....... They are gone and when the one who tells their story returns again to these forums so far from the sky, the Vessel will have been broken and one of these two shall be no more. [ 11-30-2003, 10:30 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ] __________________ One does not control the Wind. One enters it, feels its freedom. And moves.

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11-30-2003, 10:31 PM	#233
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	Departing DM Notes: ooc: My apologies for the length. The only way to remove the Devouring Wind from the story at this point was to risk the destruction of the Cyril character and that could not quickly told. With these events having taken place the following can also be assumed: 1. The DW is no longer controlling Zhydo’rah, the night hag. She can either fade into the background or she can be taken up into the tale of the Morguerat formerly known as ‘Sir.’ Thus, I bequeath her to Morgeruat’s discretion and RP energy. 2. Dantes – Between the PMs I’ve already sent to you and to Larry, you should have enough info to work with the runestones. If not let me know. 3. Larry there are a number of ways now open to concluding the story – let me know if you need a bit of help. 4. The way to destroying the Hunger and to defeating the Shadow Giants have already been prepared – the party simply needs to figure them out and move forward – Larry should have the necessary details in his possession. 5. TAO – the DW, quite obviously, is no longer directing the Banewolves, and I belive you have enough info to play on.. 6. Cyril’s ring is up for grabs [subject to Larry’s ruling] – afterall what is LOF without a ring to fight over? 7. The storms within the mountains have fallen still and travel overland between the Inner and Outer Forums is again possible. Of course, the Hunger remains ...... [ 11-30-2003, 10:32 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

11-30-2003, 10:37 PM	#234
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	A Final Note: As I am concerned about the fairness of saddling Larry with the task of managing a game that might stretch on indefinitely -- especially given the sporadic nature of our posting over these last few months -- I have set up a scenario by which the story will resolve itself and allow this game to end and a new one to be started. This is very much a 'Doomsday' solution, and one that scares even me [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img] and the clock is running on it effective as of this post. [ 11-30-2003, 10:37 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

12-02-2003, 06:19 PM	#235
TAOWolf White Dragon Join Date: December 1, 2001 Location: Mountains of Arkansas, US Posts: 1,887	O.o ~jaw drops~ ooOOOoooo....nice Cyril... IC: Her hearing fades, and then her eyes..... she moves her head sluggishly left and right....."What ....is...hap......" Then, for a brief moment, sight and hearing return, along with the sound of whispering wings upon the wind, and a gift...... She looks as the owl drops an object into her upraised palms, and smiles quickly, leaving no time for contemplation as precious seconds race on... "Windbringer..........thank you...." She shifts immediately to a shadowy wolf form, and races across the lands, away from what she now knows was banewolfs.... the ancient terror of her kind... Carrying the clasp in her mouth, the moonstone around her neck glows in the darkening evening as she races thru the shadows towards the distant mountains of the other side of the valley... She missteps only once, as she feels the current of winds change and shift thru the forums, but runs on as a singler silver tear rolls down her muzzle, and she lifts her voice in a soft song of tribute to the WindBringer.......... [ 12-02-2003, 06:21 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

12-07-2003, 10:21 PM	#236
Larry_OHF Ironworks Moderator Join Date: March 1, 2001 Location: Midlands, South Carolina Age: 48 Posts: 14,759	OOC>>>As I am told by a certain whispering Wind...chaos and ruin are just around the corner, waiting to destroy the forums that we know and love. In order to prevent this from happening, action must take place! Slothfulness brings forth the fruits of decay, the stench of death. Therefore, as nobody seems intersted in continuing the search for Brendon and freeing him from his entombed state...where the party was going to be pleased enough to find another missing companion from earlier chapters...the table has turned. The DM has taken up his dice and rolled them against you all. Fate has decided to find you, as you cannot find it anymore. This fate is bitter, and many will pay the price for not acting sooner. Death hunts for you IC>>> The time had come. Too long had she waited for the party that would become brave dead fools to arrive and make their stand against her. Too long had she waited to take over this expanse of darkness under the Forums. She was no longer going to wait and let some wild creature devour them in their lost and hopeless state. She made the call. The Grimlocks, Shadow Hounds and she herself were going to go find them and end this NOW! The hunt began. OOC>>>You are being hunted. By my calculations...that means that you have one real-time day per cave level before you are found. It would equal hours in game-time. However, I will be nice and give everybody a chance to see this message and shit their pants before running like babies or standing like brave fools. The choices you make may keep you alive long enough to see the end of a fantastic story that Cyril and I have devised. Will you make it to the conclusion? Hmmm...I have my doubts. Thus, prove me wrong. Do not let this army find you ill-prepared. Be ready to fight when you see it hit, or your characters will be destroyed without you being here to even see it! You have until Friday Night. Note to Tao: You are not being hunted by this menace, but if you can keep away from those banewolves, you might been in a good vantage point to see the army advancing,,,and alert those that are being hunted. You can choose to stand ground with them if you like...OR...you might go back to her lair while the others are dying and see to Brendon and Rhianneth...whichever you think best. The game is now open to posting. [ 12-07-2003, 10:21 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

12-08-2003, 09:24 AM	#237
Morgeruat Jack Burton Join Date: October 16, 2001 Location: PA Age: 43 Posts: 5,421	Saithele The group had spent several days in conference, what were they thinking, had they forgotten the horrors they were supposed to be facing, apparently they had. He had decided then to leave them behind, his spells and trained elven stealth would allow him to pass unnoticed in these lightless realms (ooc: or so he believes) he would leave the group behind to their own ends, while he went in search of brendon, the fool had taken the sword and then abandoned the group with it, if he died in the tunnels the sword could lie unclaimed in the tunnels for decades, or worse, it could end up in the hands of a drowish refugee, or serving an orc lord, and that was not a fate he would let a weapon he had crafted suffer. and so while the group conferred once more, with still no clear idea when they would move out he sat in the shadows as he normally did, and softly chanted the words to a spell.

12-08-2003, 10:19 AM	#238
Larry_OHF Ironworks Moderator Join Date: March 1, 2001 Location: Midlands, South Carolina Age: 48 Posts: 14,759	DM Note: Per your PM, Morgie...your spell was successful and nobody noticed your disappearance during the casting. You are free to roam the caverns. If you so choose, post the directions you take and I will watch you on my map. Your elvish eyes should make out footprints, so you should not have too much trouble but there will be "some" trouble. Anarrima HP 60/60 She had been listening to the bickering of the others in who should lead, who should scout, who should take up the rear, and if they should even go after Brendon or turn and hunt for the giants instead. Everyone seemed to be on thier own, never wanting to go with the plan of another, and the disorder of their group had taken it's toll. Now one of them had left the party at some point. Nobody even knew how long he had been missing. OOC>>>For those of you that were in the original party that were witness to two other party members just disappearing (Mistral and Cerek's PCs), your wonder at the new disappearance should trouble you moreso than the others. Maybe somebody is picking off members one at a time, hunting each of us in turn. This unsettled feeling will reflect on the newer party members who have elvish feelings and can sense your thoughts. [ 12-08-2003, 10:21 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

12-09-2003, 11:41 AM	#239
TAOWolf White Dragon Join Date: December 1, 2001 Location: Mountains of Arkansas, US Posts: 1,887	as she races closer and closer to the mountains, a mist starts to fall over the valley, and the moonstone around her neck glows brighter as she nears the spot of the ley lines she is racing to... the banewolves cannot enter the ley lines, and as soon as she steps one foot in, already warding herself against the corruption, she will start an ancient spell.....calling to the one she seeks who is the only hope.....

12-10-2003, 08:33 AM	#240
Morgeruat Jack Burton Join Date: October 16, 2001 Location: PA Age: 43 Posts: 5,421	The Shadow, aka Saithele The passageways were cramped, closed and help an overpowering sense of danger that would not be dispelled. But the elf would not be deterred, he followed the trail as well as he could, and when he could no longer see it he travelled in a series of left turns, making sure to mark the walls with charcoal. It might alert other creatures as to his path, but preventing him from backtracking was more important, most of the creatures of the underforum he could dispatch quickly, and the ones he couldn't, he had a few tricks to make sure he could flee. He took no special care to ensure he wasn't leaving tracks, if the others began moving and wanted to follow him they might arrive when he needed them, and as for unfriendly forces, they could just as easily come from in front of him, and if htey were trailing him he hoped to at least be moving quickly enough that they would be slowed down by following his tracks.

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