Part 6>>>The Shadow of Love (an LoF adventure)

[Elif Godson]

Vincent Pathfinder 98/98

Watching Yevaud walk back inside, Vincent turned to the forest once more and yelled out " I'quelin Mori'Quessier naa ba Mori'Quessir " and was just about to head inside when he heard screams from the oposite side of the entrance. Knocking two arrows, Vincent headed in that general direction to test fate yet again.

"The best Drow is a dead Drow"

[Larry_OHF]

Andrion: Your search is in vain, and seemingly, the only living things within the Tower are creatures of darkness that do nothing more than ignore you. The undead do likewise. In a tower full of creatures of many kinds...you appear to be alone.


To the Castle Team: Yevaud and Vincent return to the castle interior from which they came to find Marcos had run off somewhere, and Anarrima explains that he went with a guard to investigate something. Sounds from outside seem to be very disturbing, and the remaining four adventurers head toward the door to see exactly what is going on outside. The guard that was with Ana is sent to find Marcos and tell him that they are going outside, and to come quickly when he is finished with what he went to see about.

When the four reach the outside of the castle, they see the following. A huge ditch has been dug around the perimeter of the castle, and dams have been built to hold the marsh water back from filling in the holes. All around the castle, and as far down as the excevations were dug, a stone creation can be seen. There are no people outside, though sloshes of boots can be heard in the distance. Those that were out here have run away in all different directions. One can assume that they dug deep enough in exploring this strange construction under the castle as to have found something that did not please them as much as they would have liked, for the work done on the digging proved to be outstanding, proving that the people were excited...initially. What had gone wrong? There was nobody left around to ask.

Kynnen: You drop down the hole and land in a spash of cold and putrid water that is about waist-high, which helped break your fall. The water that had run down from above had made its own pond on this level. You climb out of the water, and stand on dry ground, looking about. It is a natural cavern, directly below the graveyard from above. You realize this because the marshy water has washed out the land well enough that the heavy coffins have fallen from their resting place in the ground above to land down here and shatter. What is odd is that there are no corpses in the ruins of the coffins. There is only one way to travel, and it expands as far as you can see until the path rounds a corner. No sounds can be heard with your excellent hearing, nor movement of any kind can be seen.

[ 05-28-2005, 02:19 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

[dplax]

Andrion Wilgor 22/22

Oh well... - Andrion thought to himself. Nothing to do but wait I guess.

He made his way upwards in the Tower from the lower floors where he had concluded his search and arrived back to the Throne Room about ten minutes later. Brendon looked at him with the same uninterested eyes and Andrion ignored him this time. He went to one of the corners of the throne room and in the relative darkness quickly fell asleep, completely exhausted from all the flying he had done.

[Cyril Darkcloud]

For Plaxica

The stink of blood is overpowering and the head might easily grow dizzy should the lungs persist in filling themselves with such polluted air. There is something rancid within the scent, as if the rotting of the grave had lodged itself within this blood which now soaks in such great quantity into the soil. Deep beneath the surface runs one of the Lines, its direction crudely indicated by a linear depression in the earth where the blood seems to be draining with greater speed than elsewhere. Although the amount of blood still upon the surface is great, the greater part is already within the soil, bearing the poison of the grave to the corrupted Line. Any spirit able to perceive such things would surely cry out in horror and outrage at so great a desecration, a desecration that would bear the grasp of death outward from this place to all the Lines .......

In the distance, from the place where the woman prepared for battle among the Standing Stones, blue flares erupt into the sky. There, in the distance, struggle has begun. Here, however, the time of struggle has passed and all that remains is the draining of blood into the thirsty earth. Soon it shall be absorbed .......

ooc: The time to act would seem to be now [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img]

[dplax]

Plaxica 85/85

His nostrils filled with the smell of blood, and his mind was filled with dread at what could happen did he not act soon. Seeing no immediate danger of banewolves he saw his chance.

He swiftly stopped his circling and landed next to the blood of the dragon. He shifted back to human form to perform the ritual and immediately felt an increase of the fear. He murmured again the litany he had learnt and managed to decrease his dread enough to be able to act.

He took the ingredients from the bag at his side and prepared himself.

OOC: Cyril I have a few questions about how to proceed here, so I'll try catching you on MSN.

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Joseph

Time, it has been said, is but the numbering of movement according to ‘before’ and ‘after’. Before and after are relative things, however, and should the pace with which before recedes into after change, so too, by this standard does the movement of time. The first light of day greets the diverse eyes of this little group at what would seem to be the same moment, yet the movement of time has not brought all to this meeting with the sun in quite the same way. All have rested and watch has been kept, but one has done much more than rest – he has slept as if a full night had passed and has recovered his spells as if a day were spent in nothing save study, he has eaten three times, and for these last hours he has slept an enchanted sleep and within this sleep he has dreamed.

Deep has been his sleeping, a sleeping as if lasting a full cycling of day into night, and deep has been his dreaming. He has dreamed of a blade named Argent Justice and of the man whose arm made use of it, and he has dreamed of a place, a tomb near the mouth of a valley through which a river runs......

The others are now stirring and the dream is reaching its end. He awakens and though his movements are slow and deliberate, to those observing him they are rapid – not rushed in any way but curiously swift. As the others tend to their affairs he sits quietly, maintaining his distance from the group, for the dream must not be lost and the speaking of dreams is not a speaking that one readily perceives. Several hours pass for him in reading and thought while but a single hour passes for the others. Toward the end of this hour the meaning of the dream takes on a sudden clarity in his thoughts and he closes his eyes in focused concentration. A few minutes later he stands, his movement still strangely swift. He steps forward toward the others and as he does so his movement returns to its normal pace.

“It was a most productive night,” he smiles.

ooc: The 2 spells in operation here are Tempus Fugit and Dream.

[dplax]

Plaxica 85/85

Holding the pouch Plaxica recalled Tao's words, spoken to him but a few hours ago.

“This water,”...“was taken from the spring at the heart of this Grove. It is bitterness to those who walk not according to the ancient ways, and it is cleansing and life to those that do.” ...“A friend of mine was lost this night beyond all hope of living again. I would see that his death is not meaningless.”...“There is not much time and you must move swiftly,”...“You must find the spot where he was slain and you must do so before his blood has finished draining into the earth. Arcades was his name, the dragon who served as guardian of the Ley Lines. His blood will seek to return to the lines but it has been corrupted by the banewolves. Should it not be purified the Lines shall be poisoned beyond all healing.”...“When you find the place, crumble the herbs into the water and press the runestone into the soil. Then cry out to the gods as the spirit within you knows how and pour the water over the rune.” ...“You must follow the steps in the order I have given you and you must not stop for any reason once you have begun.”

Plaxica looked at the blood at his feet. First he removed the herbs from the pouch and crumbled them with slightly trembling hands into the flask of water. He pressed the runestone into the ground and then, suddenly he lost all sense of the world around him. The only voice which reached him was that of the spirit inside of him, who had been silent ever since he had left the druid's grove.

So far you have done well...I am now ready to help in stopping the threat.

With a brilliant flash of light Plaxica saw again. He was still pressing the runestone into the ground with his hand, but his other hand was pointed towards the skies and words in a language unknown to him were being shouted through his mouth. The words stopped suddenly and a very vivid thought appeared in his brain, compelling him to act as he was told.

Now!

Gaining back control over his senses Plaxica took the flask of water and tilting it started pouring the liquid over the runestone. Then tilting more he let all of the liquid leave the flask.

He let go of the runestone and shakily stood up. He felt extremely tired but at the same time relieved, knowing he had managed to complete what the druid had told him. He looked around himself trying to see the effects of what he had done, and at the same time not trying to think of how easily the spirit had taken over control of him...

[ 05-29-2005, 01:37 PM: Message edited by: dplax ]

[Larry_OHF]

Larry Silverfall

Larry awoke to find the world in the manner in which it was described previously, though one major change had occurred during the night. His fake appearance had dissapated.

He looked about to those that were rousing near him, and smiled.

"Hey! I am back to my regular self!"

He thinks about what he just said and a shadow comes across his face.

"How many darn times can one person say that in this life? I mean...really?"

Guessing that the meaning was wasted on those two that had no idea what he was babbling about, he then turned his attention to Joseph even as the strange man approached and announced that he had accomplished some feat during the night.

"Oh? I remember you mentioned briefly yesterday that you could divine the location of this sword of Morgie's..."

[Morgeruat]

Morguerat


The night had passed, and though he had rested more than usual, he had slept less. Silently meditating on the call he had heard, and keeping watch over the ragtag grouping he had somehow assembled had prevented the soothing touch of sleep to overcome him. It was not something he was unaccustomed to, but he longed for the days when he could simply relax and find an easy sleep. Sleep not filled with dire portents, psychopathical mages, illusionists playing at their games, or mysterious omens. But he had not been given that blessing in many years, nor would he (he suspected) receive it for many more.

Still resting without sleep was not nearly so taxing as many would believe, in fact most considered it to be merely a very light sleep, interrupted so easily that one could never tell if the dreamer was sleeping or awake. In this land however Morguerat was glad to not sleep, for when his mind had begun drifting off he had seen legions of crazed humanoids cheering to him, and one band of them, ill equipped and even more poorly armed than was typical marching away from him, as if to go to war. The revulsion he felt at the scene had awakened him and ensured that he would not drift off again that night, but the unsettling feeling would persist throughout the coming days.

"Hey! I am back to my regular self!"

"How many darn times can one person say that in this life? I mean...really?"

Morguerat chuckled, Larry had once again vocalized what had been bothering him all night since he had tried to find sleep. "Larry my boy, I don't think there's a reasonable limit, I most certainly would rather return to myself than stay trapped in a dreamlike state as a monster." He winks at Larry, and then looks to Joseph to see if he will answer the question Larry posed.

[Legolas]

Inquisitor Marcos of Snowdale - 98/98

Certain that the occupants of the tower had not made their escape through the less prominent corridors, the inquisitor and the guard began making their way towards the excavation outside. He could only wonder at why the Duchess had not gotten herself to safety. The death of Silverfall would have been less than perfect, he reflected, but in most likelihood a betterment for the world. A dead werecreature was an improvement any day.
Still, there would need to be bodies. Even the foulest of warlocks left remains rather than vanishing in smoke.