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Post by RAIVEN on Oct 1, 2006 18:29:34 GMT -7
Kind Reader,
The curse lingered. We watched and waited. No sorcery, no magic, no amount of prayers to our Lord Chaos would wake him. He languished in some far away place between existence and fantasy and we with him, only our reality was too close; almost too painful to bear. Time passes and we go about those daily rituals that allow us to survive no matter the adversity. I try my best to keep the clan whole. I notice Sharkey hunting alone more and more in the swamp. And I wonder what penance she has set for herself. The mortal soul is so fragile.
Late one night as I am standing in the Xian enclosure, pondering the course of events, the dark waters twinkling with the full moon and the lava glow in the distance, I fall into a reverie of past events and dreams. Dear Reader, do we ever lose our dreams? I fear the day our dreams fall from us is the day we die. I wonder does our leader dream? Does he feel our will upon him begging him to return to this life and all of us? Or is all blackness and silence? Perhaps he is living a vibrant second life while we await his return? I say a silent prayer to Lord Chaos.
I begin to feel weakness overcome me and force myself to return to full consciousness from my waking dreams. A dark cleric is behind me casting his silent spells upon me. I slowly turn towards him. Dance with me And thus it begins. Who's will is stronger? And who will succumb to the magic of the other? I do not have the brute strength of some of the warriors but my magic is strong. And I have been taught well. Step with me. I am waiting for you
Soon I find myself searching through the Cleric's pack and pull out a sword of pain. Oddly, the clerics always carried these although they seemed to have no use for them. The inscriptions on the hilt tell of some arcane magic rituals lost to all but Chaos now. I touch the blade to my wrist and it is burning hot on my skin. I let it draw blood and watch as my own blood drips onto the blade, the slow rhythm almost entrancing.
I knew now what I needed to do.
I sought out and fought the dark Clerics until I had seven of these swords in my pack all with their inscriptions, all with my blood on the blade. I left the town of Xian on foot and began my quest.
I travelled to the furtherest southwest known town on our map, Stumpy's Outpost, arriving just as dawn broke. I woke the sleeping innkeeper to beg directions to a shrine known to be in the area. He was a weathered and leathery looking fellow. A man with his warrior years behind him, curmudgeonly and cranky at being roused out of his bed so early. Yet, when I explained my quest was he was very accommodating and had his servant prepare a coarse breakfast for me and gave me a hand drawn map to guide me to the shrine and after that the night city of Natchsberg. Seems he was once a soldier for Chaos long ago in the days when Grimm was a student of the dark arts, before Chaos banished him and before the treachery that saw Chaos entrapped in the furthest depths of the volcano.
So with my meagre, breakfast inside me, my head full of old stories and the seven swords in my pack, I began my journey to the first shrine.
At last I arrive at the shrine and it is well guarded by dragons. I try to avoid being seen by them but it was too late. Nothing to do now but lure them away and hope I can backtrack to the shrine unnoticed. I succeed and pull the first sword out of my pack and lay it reverently on the shrine. I say a short prayer given to me by the innkeeper and the sword glows first red like the lava flows I have seen and then ice blue like the glittering waters of Xian. I close my eyes for just a few seconds ans when I open them the sword is gone! Taken by Chaos I am sure!
I make my way to Nachtsberg arriving at early evening and after a quick repast and some talk with the locals make my way to the next shrine hidden in the mountains south of the town. The sword placed on the shrine produces the same effect as the first and I continue my travels to Coradale, only having to show my papers at the bridge to an ogre enforcer who easily lets me pass. I spend the night at the Cora Inn then proceed to the third shrine. And so goes my travels from town to town, shrine to shrine, until I arrived at the last shrine near the town of Gloomy Vale deep in the swamp. This was the town where Mother met Chaos I remembered from her stories. He was disguised as a Crone, I think. A fortune teller of some sort anyway.
I dropped the seventh sword on the seventh shrine and waited for the usual glowing from molten lava hot to ice storm cold. But instead, I heard a voice. "Your plea has been heard by the gods. Await our decision."
Did I really hear that? Was it inside my head? The sword was embedded into the stone of the cairn like shrine and glowing white. I dared not touch it but instead knelt in homage and said the words I had been taught. I arose after a few minutes and started my long journey back to Byrendell.
Once there, excited by my adventures but exhausted as well, I visited for a few minutes in the Inn exchanging pleasantries with the locals briefly. I climbed the stairs wearily, and upon arriving at my room fell upon my bed and into a deep sleep.
"RAIVEN!"
The voice was familiar but the grogginess of sleep was still upon me. Where was I? On my bed. I still have my travelling clothes on. My thoughts started to uncloud and I piece together events
"RAIVEN!"
I am now fully awake. I sit up and see a shadowy figure standing across the room just barely lit by the moonlight from the window.
"General!" I am smiling but the tears are flowing freely down my face.
"Blackbird, do you have a plat or nimble helmet? I believe I am going to take a walk to Tor."
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As ever, may your place in the army of Chaos be there for the taking and may you dance always with dragons.
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Post by RAIVEN on Oct 30, 2006 19:42:47 GMT -7
Dear Reader, It nears All Hallow Eve and Sharkey has been helping me prepare for the festivities here. Our celebrations will be held in the Town Inn of Byrendell this year as I am unable to travel. I have been immobilized by the Telus curse as has Sharkey and a few others. Perhaps, some special magic of the evening will release us from this wretched curse but for now we are grounded and must spend our time on the 'Other side'. As it turns out our preparations have been fraught with difficulties and a mystery of sorts as well. Early this afternoon, as I was passing the large formal dining rooms, I could hear what sounded like shouting and pounding coming from within those rooms. I stopped to investigate. As I approached the large glass doors that are kept closed and locked when we are not entertaining guests, I could see Sharkey there pounding on the window and pleading to have the doors opened. I ran over to her as it was obvious all was not well. I reached to turn the great skeleton key in it's lock but it was not there! I could not see it on the ground nearby either. I searched the area but to no avail. Sharkey was shouting something about an evil spirit. I motioned to Sharkey that I was going to go to the kitchen entrance. "We are locked in Ma'am!" She yelled through the glass to me. "I will get cook's key Shark. Please calm yourself.!" I shouted back. She nodded but did still look frightened. I obtained the key from Cook's small office and unlocked the pantry entrance to the dining room. Sharkey and the two servants who were with her nearly knocked me over with their hugs at the relief of being freed from the room. "What happened here?" I asked the three of them. "We were preparing the room for the feast tomorrow night, when the kitchen door slammed shut, Miss." It was Penny replying. I turned my attention to her. "We paid it no mind at first but when I tried to leave to get more linens for the tables, the door was locked. None of the cooks were in that kitchen today Miss, they are all working in the big kitchen today. It could not have been them." It certainly did seem strange, but I was sure there was some logical explanation to it all and said so. I propped a chair against the door from the pantry to keep it open but the missing key from the main foyer doors was indeed a puzzle to me. A few hours later one of the serving girls appeared at the door to my small den where I do the household accounts. "Miss RAIVEN?" Come in, Penny. What is it?" She looked completely distraught. It's a disaster Miss! Please come quick. Sharkey bids you come quick!" I put down my pen. "What happened? Are you hurt? Where is Sharkey?" "The dining room, Miss" and she was out the door with me trying to collect my thoughts and rushing to follow her. We arrived at the formal dining room doors together. Sharkey let us in. They were no longer locked? I did not unlock those doors before. I had no time to dwell on that little oddity,however, as Sharkey was pointing to one of the large round tables. It was a complete disaster. The large chandelier above it had fallen on the table that had just been set with all it's cutlery, charger plates, linens and glasses. Sharkey almost hysterical. "It's a ghost did this Miss. I know it is'. I give her a hug. "Now Shark, surely you are not frightened by ghosts. You hunt in the swamp all the time. Did anyone get hurt?" "Ma'am, I can see what is in the swamp! The Cat. He got a couple of cuts when the glass flew but he is ok." "Cat is here? Back from Bal Tor, already? I was not expecting him until tomorrow! Where is that scoundrel?" I was personally pleased that he had arrived. The General, himself, had just gotten back that morning as well. it seemed that all of Chaos' children would be gathered for the feast. "At your service, Madam." "Cat!" I gave him a hug. "It's been a long time. Correspondence from Tor is slow to say the least. But why are you here in the dining rooms?" "I thought, I might find you down here fussing about." "Please, let me just see into this latest disaster and I will meet you in the bar for a glass of our fine wine." He nodded his agreement, bowed ever so slightly and was off to the pub. I turned my attention back to the disaster that was the table. Sharkey and the girls were busy picking up the peices of glass and debris. "Well, let's get this cleaned up and reset. I will have the handy man check the chains on the chandelier. Probably they were just worn." A weak link. A worn rope. The great light fixture was lowered to light the candles and raised back into position each evening this dining room was used. Confident that Sharkey and the serving girls were calmed down and able to cope, I went down to the pub to meet the Cat. There he was and as often happened a crowd had gathered round his table as he regaled them with stories. And tonight as it was so near to All hallows Eve, it was ghost stories he was telling. The publican put a glass of wine in my hand and I took a seat in the 'story circle'. I raised my glass slighty to him as he told his story and let myself get lost in the tale.
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Post by RAIVEN on Oct 30, 2006 21:00:19 GMT -7
Just as the Cat was about to tell the who of the who-done-it, I was called back to the dining room.
The handyman was there, waiting for me.
"Ma'am, ain't been no wear on them chains nor the rope neither."
"Did someone intentionally cut the chandelier loose, then?" I asked.
"No Ma'am. It's a mystery is what it is. No damage anywhere at all." He shook his head. "I dunno." He shrugged.
"Ok, thank you, Edgar." And he took his leave. I was left alone with my thoughts. The girls had reset the table and the room looked beautiful for the feast to come.
"Bon soir, Madame." Startled, I looked around to find a girl of about five or six standing next to me. She was dressed in a costume from the previous century, and an elaborate party frock it was too.
"Bon soir, petite. Are you lost little one?"
"No, Maman said I could greet the guests till bedtime."
"Are you having a costume party tonight? What is your name?"
"Madame, I am Mirielle. No costumes tonight. It is an important ball. My brother, Gabriel goes to war tomorrow."
"What is your last name, precious? Your mother is no where near as you can see and neither is your brother. Maybe I can help you find them"
"De Lioncourt, madame. but there is my brother on the dance floor with his fiance."
She was looking across the room, smiling. I looked up too, knowing full well there was nothing there. I turned back to take the little girl's hand to see if we might not find out what room she was staying at but she was gone.
Well, I was confused and disoriented by my meeting with this precocious child and her disappearance into seemingly thin air was disconcerting to say the least.
The story telling sessions in the pub were done for the night so I retired to my rooms upstairs. I was sitting at my small desk writing out some correspondence before bed.
"Votre cle', Madame."
I looked up startled to see the young girl, Mirielle, standing there holding a large skeleton key.
"Where did you get that, little one?"
"On the floor by the door."
"Thank you." I take the key. "The dining room door, little one?"
She nods.
"Where is your maman and papa, little one?"
"They are here."
"Here in this room? In the Inn?"
My sentence repeats itself in my head.
I look down at the letter I was writing and back up and she is gone again. This is getting strange. Did I fall asleep at my desk? Many hours seemed to have passed. I start to get dressed for bed. But the gleam of a metal object on the bookcase across the room catches my eye. It is the skeleton key from the dining room grand entrance doors. Curious.
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Post by RAIVEN on Oct 30, 2006 22:35:15 GMT -7
Kind Reader,
Today is All Hallow Eve and I have been spending the day preparing for the dinner in the formal dining room.
Sharkey, and I were putting menus and placecards at each setting when I mentioned to her the little girl.
"She is a ghost, Ma'am."
"Oh Sharkey, do not be silly. She is a little girl. Nothing more."
"No Ma'am. A ghost. A human ghost crossed over from that other place. They are the most dangerous. They do not know they are ghosts. They do not know they have powers. They do not know they have left reality."
"Sharkey. Don't be silly." But I am beginning to believe her just a little.
"It is true, Ma'am. It was her almost killed us yesterday with the chandelier. I am sure of it."
"Ok, Sharkey, that is enough."
I leave the dining room and have my page send a message to the Cat to meet me in my study as soon as he was able.
He turns up about an hour later, fussing about being disturbed in the middle of the day.
I told him my story of the little girl.
"Mirielle de Lioncourt? I know that name. The Lioncourt name. Yes. It was a famous name about one hundred years ago.
They were popular in the courts of the royals back in their day. They had much influence with the kings of the time. Wealthy too. They had a son. Something odd. I can not remember it. About the son"
"Did he die at war? The girl said he was having a farewell party."
"No....I do not think that is it. Something odd about the child, though. There was a Mirielle de Lioncourt. But she would never have been at this inn as a child. The inn was not built until she was much older. Let me see what I can find out."
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Post by RAIVEN on Oct 30, 2006 23:39:24 GMT -7
It is believed that on this night, the spirits of the dead can walk with the living. And I am beginning to believe I have encountered a ghost myself.
The evening is a gorgeous one. The sun sets like a big orange ball dropping behind the Pepper mountains and leaving behind it tracings of deep pink splashed across the sky until dusk turns all to black.
The guest arrive all dressed in their finest raiments and stunning masks decorated with jewels and the feathers of exotic birds. It promises to be an interesting night. It is not only my clan in attendence tonight but all clans that follow Chaos are represented.
I am finally able to engage the Cat in conversation regarding our previous talk.
"Ah yes, the de Lioncourts. After the son returned from the wars, it was rumoured there were vampires in the countryside. The peassants were terrified and indeed corpses completely drained of blood were turning up. The son lived in an old mansion north of Coradale. And it was near there that the bodies began to be found. The wolves howled when his carriage passed. He was believed to be the killer. The peasants are very superstitious but that is the story. "
"And nothing of a little girl, then?"
"One old man recalls seeing a grave on the estate when he was a boy. A lamb, carved of alabaster was the headstone. He said the name was Mary de Lioncourt but it was definately a child's grave. It is no longer on the property"
"Thanks, Cat. Intriquing isn't it? Vampires and ghosts. Hmmm...."
The evening goes well. Good food. Good wine. Good music. We celebrate the conquests of our deceased heroes with many toasts of pride and remembrance.
The time comes at last to say good night and I climb the stairs to my room. As I am walking down the corridor, I hear shouting from one of the rooms.
You can not take her Gabriel!! No!
With that I can hear the sounds of a some sort of brawl. I run to the door where the noise is coming from and the door opens, almost by itself.
I witness two men and a woman arguing. Their is a small child in a bed. She is unconcious and paler than death. The older man is holding the young man back. The woman obviously distressed is begging them both to stop.
She goes to the child and kneels by the bed. Takes one of her small hands in her own and prays out loud.
"Mirielle, our daughter is lost to us." The older man walks over to the bed and puts his hand on the woman's shoulder."
"You must let me take her!! I can save her."
"No!" the older man shakes his head. "Not like that. Do you want her to become wht you are? No, not my child, not my daughter. No Gabriel"
"She is my baby sister. I can not let her die like this. The plague has claimed many young lives. Do not let it take her too."
He too fell to his knees begging them to allow him to save the child. And I saw the tears fall on his cheeks and they were of blood.
The scene played itself out before me as if by actors on a stage and I the audience unable to be acknowledged but still involved for all that. Finally amidst the tears and anguish of this trio, the child drew a deep breath and was no more.
I took one her little hands in my own and held it gently.
"You are free little one." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dawn was beginning to break. There was a loud rapping on my door. I stirred awake and sat up. It was the Cat.
"People just come and go from this room at will it seems. Cat why are you up so early? "
"Have not been to bed yet, Hrah!! Been up playing cards with your General, my girl. How is your ghost doing?"
"I think she is at rest, Cat. I do not think we will see her again. But Gabriel de Lioncourt, what do you know of him?"
"Ha, now that is the question, now isn't it, cherie?"
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Post by RAIVEN on Dec 17, 2006 17:20:34 GMT -7
My Dearest RAIVEN,
You have been strong and brave, my child and I see before me a warrior in her own right. In my long absence, Chaos has kindly allowed me to watch your progress although for your own protection, I have not been able to communicate with you. You can not know how it broke my heart to not be with you.
But now things are beginning to change. Know this, Chaos has a plan for his dark children. You will see a resurgance of the Old Guard and you will see the next generation come into it's own. Alas, I can not reveal all at this time.
You will know me as the keeper of the SOC banner, kindly passed on from the great warrior JURNYMAN and with it I shall continue to serve Chaos.
Til we are united again, my daughter,
Blood and Souls for our Lord Chaos,
J.
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Post by RAIVEN on Jan 8, 2007 0:38:38 GMT -7
Dear Reader,
It is once again the beginning of a new year. It seems that just yesterday we were all celebrating the beginning of the last year. I have the feeling the magic of 7 will bear good fortune for us this year. The General said as much to me as well. It bodes well.
Last year at this time, I had a dream, and in that dream I saw our Lord Chaos but it was the voice of Grimm that I heard. And he was telling me, "Never give up." And I will prevail. Always and forever.
What a year this has been! The General took back leadership of the clan early in the year. Captain yaWn continues to come and go. His magic is strong beyond any spellcasting.
The one event that changes everything was the disappearance of Grimm. Along with that was the possible emergence of a new force in our world. His name is Rrabid. His alliance is uncertain but time will tell the story. To the patient man everything will come.
The most tumultous event no doubt was the curse cast upon our leader in the fall of the year. I truly feared for him but at last he recovered and the clan grew stronger with him. Praise Chaos for watching over his own army.
The festive season as always was busy.There are so many events to attend to in the castle with the clansmen (and women) coming and going from all reaches of Shade. At the lowest ebb of our world's cycle new hope emerges and we find wonder and beauty in the snow and the skies and the stars; comfort and good fellowship at our hearths with the sharing of good food and wine.
And lastly was the return of Mother. Expect to hear more clan stories from her in the future.
As for me, my future is bright and I am truly dancing with the dragons..
Kind Reader, it grows late, my candle is dim and thus I must close.
May your place in Chaos Army always be there for the taking and may you dance always with dragons.
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Post by RAIVEN on Feb 17, 2007 17:20:40 GMT -7
Kind Reader,
The magic found in Bal Tor is a terrible, evil magic. At night, you can hear the screams of the souls of those who walked these streets, now long ago passed on from this realm. You can feel their terror. See in visions the horrors that they saw.
I can see their great gaping wounds. The ground flows with blood all around me for miles. At times I am awash in fear so deep, I feel that I too will drown in it, and my very soul will be eaten up or dissolved as if by a boiling cauldron of acid. Every dawn brings a foreboding so deep within that my spine crawls with it. Every dusk I can hear the screams of the damned. I try to shut them out. I close my eyes and cover my ears. But I can see them only more vividly; hear them only more loudly. I feel the presence of the great displacer demon forever guarding a gate of mystery and death. The hounds of hell forever bay in the darkness and the bugs buzz all around your face and devour the fear off your skin until you are eaten alive.
And it is to this place that I have come to hunt, the General already having been here some time prior. 'Here be dragons.' Here be dragons indeed.
It is for their great horded treasure we come here, seeking wealth, seeking to notch our mark on the mantle of this terrible dream that we live, I suppose. But we come here not just for fame or fortune as both are fickle mistresses, but for adventure and to test our mettle in the face of great fear.
The dragons are just as fascinated by us as we are of them. Do they fear us? I wonder. We who are so tiny and frail in comparison. They are mesmerized by us and they will dance our dance, slowly allowing themselves to be slaughtered in the process.
My mind wanders in reverie as I set packets of potions on the ground in neatly arrayed rows. My magic rarely fails. But the potions must be laid out quickly as they last for a very short time on the ground. I think about the dance, how the dragon will follow the General, again and again. Step by step. Rhythmically. Slowly. Almost purring in enchantment, it's great scales shimmering in full color under the false sun, it follows him until the pain of the spells we cast upon it wakes it and it cries out hitting back in all directions with torrents of hot burning flames and lava. We all scramble and reassemble, in the process drinking our potions to heal our sometimes near fatal wounds, and the dragon follows once again, one of us in the dance. My dance is hesitant and the dragon knows it. He casts his anger upon me. I falter but hold my place. Step with me. And the dragon follows. But it is the General that the dragon wants and it calls him out. I step back as the General begins his dance with the dragon all over again.
"RAIVEN!"
I am startled out of my thoughts.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, General."
I take my place on the attack line as the General begins the dance. He smiles and winks as he brings the dragon close, it's eyes half hooded from the magic entrancement of the dance. I smile back as I turn the page of my spell book and the hunt begins.
As ever, may your place in the army of Chaos always be there for the taking and may you dance always wirh dragons. __________________
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Post by RAIVEN on Sept 9, 2007 23:59:30 GMT -7
RED ELDER HUNT
"RED is Dead. Dead as dead. Doornail dead. Red will die today. Slayed by the hand of our Hero BarnCat of Byrendale. "
I walked into the pub at Bal Tor to hear those words. I barely managed to stifle a giggle. In the corner was BarnCat sitting alone with a glass in one hand and a nearly empty flacon of red wine in the other.
"Merry meet Barney!" I try to look into his eyes to assess his state of sobriety. "Have you been in here long?" I look across the room to see the publican shaking his head, "no". I nod at him and turn my attention back to the Cat.
"We are hunting RED today RRRRAIVEN. He will surely die." He poured the last of the wine into his glass.
"Is that liquid courage Cat?"
"No! No milady! I have been out on patrol all night long. Just a little after work attitude ajustment. RED is in his pen just as proud as you please guarding that little treasure of his. Little does he know what will befall him this morning." he said conspiratorily with an added wink.
I had to laugh. I could never tell if he was pulling my leg. I sometimes think it was all the time.
"Do you have all your gear, good Sir?" I enquire of him as formally as possible while chuckling out loud.
"Yes, ma'am." He pulled his newly acquired mace from his pack and ran his hand over the gleaming surface.
"Let's go then my friend. The General is waiting for us and you know he gets cranky if he is left to set the potions alone." I help him gather up his possesions and we head out of the pub together. As we walk towards the rocks that guard the entrance to the town compound we are greeted by a few other early risers coming back from or going to a hunt of their own. Others were training their warrior or wizard skills on the rocks. We did not have to move a rock today to exit into the elder field as it had already been pushed to one side.
We raced each other across the field avoiding elder green and reaching the little lake out of breath and laughing loudly. "Shhh!" I cautioned. "Red will hear us."
We walked briskly south closely following the shore. We reached a solid rock wall where the General was already arranging potions for the hunt. The Cat took his postion and began mixing the potion packets for the hunt. He was completely absorbed in the task. I nodded to the general, put a coin in his pack for luck- a little superstiton I picked up from mother- and took my place between the two warriors and helped arrange the potion packets for the hunt.
I looked over at the Cat and smiled, "Red will surely die today."
As ever, may your place in the army of Chaos always be there for the taking and may you dance always with dragons.
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Post by RAIVEN on Jan 19, 2008 13:15:02 GMT -7
RED ELDER HUNT Cont'd
Code key is T9
“8428 746853 23 366844 7687!” 843 4363725 935533 6837 843 66473 63 843 9463 79337464 3696 843 7433 63 843 66868246. “4 26 46464 86 46 438 843 372466 669!” 4 663333 86 446 263 74462533 86 843 228 86 438 73239 86 8253 447 76748466. 43 463422833 43 927 73239 263 46 3228 927 47466464 3766 327 86 327. 93 423 668 423 6269 48687 86438437 263 43 927 5665464 3679273 86 8447 663. 48 343 668 4878 8428 43 423 34778 7425 263 43 926833 22359 86 7375223 7663 4327 5678 29 324539 9436 743 927 762233 29 46635867 843 9335 77467 86 8428.
23837 2 339 6468837 4 26853 733 843 4363725 263 843 372466 365569464 25673 86 446. 4 9368 86 8253 69 7678 66 843 9378 35265 288 766384464 927 97664. 84373 927 2668437 737766 66 843 727336. 8447 423 63 9677433 27 93 423 423 6269 63 687 48687 7764533 29 8443837, 34747868533 4868377 263 3636437. 946 927 48? 4 343 668 732646493 446. 4 2777622433 687 4868 27 87825 288 43 927 879464 86 25625 63. 668 24246 4 8468448. 8447 47 4388464 732559 26669464. 48 927 786329 6676464 263 4 423 468836 87 28 73836 8428 6676464 86 78278 529464 7687 25846844 4 423 668 468836 6673 8436 3687 46877 75337. 4 927 84733 263 5878 926833 8447 4868 86 346474. 4 2278 69 6678 76937385 77355 28 446 86 879 263 438 446 2929 3766 843 4868. 263 43 343 668 6683. 4 2278 2 339 6673 84637. 6684464. 9428 47 43 36464? 4 2278 2 339 6673. 78455 6684464. 4 343 668 8633778263 48. 4 9368 3696 86 843 268866 63 843 333 372466’7 736 94373 843 4363725 927 263 8653 446 8428 4 927 46464 86 7678 688 63 843 34353 628468759 843 4868 927 637733 87. 43 7243 65 263 4 5338. 4 468 2225 86 8696 263 566533 87 843 6263 66 843 767837. 447 2526 824 927 325. “64! 4 8468448. 4 343 668 9268 86 288225 325 288 9428 927 43 36464 688 84373? 4 7842559 7368 2 6377243 86 843 4363725. “8428 927 2 325 8428 927 46 843 34353. 36 968 5669 946 43 47?”
843 4363725’7 73759 927 4 84465 48 47 422474. 843 733 927 2573239 4658733 9436 93 2768448 48 3696.”
“65. 4 9455 7363 2 6377243 263 276564493. 343 968 276564493 86 446 2573239? ”
“937, 4 8653 446 46 24323 263 873 687 7687 263 8428 93 9373 76779 93 343 668 5669.”
4 7368 2 6377243 74448 23837 8428 263 7243 4 927 76779 93 637733 87 9687 4868. 48 927 8646836846625. 93 343 668 5669 968 9373 66 843 372466 233673 27 93 26853 668 733 968 . 447 73776673 927 668 765483. 4 7348372833 8428 4 737766333 8428 48 927 26 22243368 263 4 2765644933.
22688 8447 8463 38379663 927 46 843 782 28 867 263 843 86367886283 5663 486837 927 8255464 783359 86 87 255.
4 8653 843 4363725 8428 4 927 46464 2225 86 233 263 4 96853 8255 86 446 52837. 4 27533 446 43 43 423 3837984464 787244483633 688 9484 7333937 27 4 73254933 29 447 8463 946 48 927. 43 8653 63 937. 263 4 9368 2225 86 233.
22688 3687 8428 238376666, 4 468 26 874368 6377243 3766 2666 277 9466 4 423 668 3836 43273 3766 367 7663 93357. “9428 42773633 4 27533? “
“4 927 545533 46 843 27978 29 7333937 263 22385.” 2263 843 73759.
“9428 42773633 3922859?”
“4 927 66 69 929 86 867 263 729 22385 66 53835 73836 63 843 27978. 4 927 5678 76 27533 446 469 86 438 84373. 43 8653 63 43 96853 7469 63. 4678323 43 533 63 4686 2 8727 263 43 263 7333937 263 84733 684377 545533 63.”
“343 8439 729 949?”
“43 7243 968 637733 87 447 4868.”
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Post by RAIVEN on Jan 25, 2008 23:59:35 GMT -7
“That should be enough pots!” the General yelled over the noise of the wind sweeping down the side of the mountain. “I am going to go get the dragon now!” I nodded to him and signaled to the Cat to get ready to take his position. It is a tedious and time consuming task to mix and arrange the packets of mana potions but with the three of us working together, it had not taken us very long at all that morning. We had them lined up neatly from west to east along the mountain base. The Cat and the General would use most of them as I rarely picked them up myself. They, being mortal, find magic is more taxing for them.
The Cat indicated he was ready and in fact was grinning from ear to ear. We had not had many hunts together and he was looking forward to this one. It did not hurt that he had first pick of any treasure we may find and he wanted badly to replace some gear lost by eaglex when the poor girl was robbed by hoodlums the week prior to that. She was a gentle soul and I could not fathom why anyone would want to harm her.
After a few minutes I could see the General and the dragon, red scales glistening along his back, following close to him. I was always amazed by his skill with the dragons. He mesmerized them somehow and they followed him like puppies. Big fire breathing, smoking, venom spewing, magic casting puppies that is. I went to take my post on the west flank but something was wrong. There was another warrior in the field! My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the intruder as we had had many of our hunts spoiled by thieves, disgruntled hunters and enemies. Who was it? I did not recognize him. I approached our hunt as usual but he was blocking me from approaching the elder. Not again I thought. This is getting really annoying. It was Sunday morning and I had gotten up very early that morning. I had attended to guests at a small dinner party at the inn until very late the night before and was still somewhat groggy. I was tired and as much as I enjoyed our hunt time together I just wanted this hunt to finish. I cast my most powerful spell at the stranger to try and get him away from the hunt. And he did not move. I cast a few more times. Nothing. What is he doing? I cast a few more. Still nothing. I did not understand it. I went down to the bottom of the red dragon’s pen where I found the General and told him that I was going back to the inn. It was obvious the hunt was messed up. He nodded. I signaled to the Cat and quickly returned to Bal Tor Castle. I got back to town and asked the inn keeper to look up the name on the hotel roster. “What clan sir? Do you know? “ I enquired of him. To which I was informed that he was staying in the DBL quarters. “Oh! I thought. I did not wish t to attack DBL but what was he doing out there? I quickly sent my messenger with a note of apology for attacking him in the field.
‘Bring back a reply.” I told him. “And let the General know that it was a DBL Warrior in the field.”
My messenger returned rather quickly with the replies. The General had stated that he thought it was Habisi and that he had checked the condition of the dragon and it showed signs of injury. Most likely he had been hunting him for sometime. Oh! I liked Habisi we had been hunting many times together along with the general. I looked at the messenger. He was looking glum. What is it? I looked at the other note. It was not at all friendly. That is definitely not Habisi. “Well,” I looked at my messenger crossly. I was tired. “Ok. Reply that an apology was made. Ask the General if he has apologized as well ok?”
The messenger nodded and took his leave once more. He and the General both returned to the Inn about the same time. I dismissed him and went over to the General and inquired quietly as to what had transpired.
“A case of bad timing. He was already in the field hunting the Red when I came up to bring him down,” He replied.
“You apologized of course?”
“Yes, yes. I told him to take our potions.”
“Ok, good.” I whispered. I saw the Cat at one of the tables and walked over to join him. Our unfortunate lone hunter was there talking loudly and making insults so the whole room could hear them. “We did not intentionally interfere in your hunt and we apologized. “ I said.
The insults continued and I whispered to the General that I would be returning to my rooms. He nodded and took my leave of him and the Cat.
I returned to my bed and slept for a couple of hours. I spent a quiet afternoon attending to minor chores and letter writing when my messenger was pounding at my door.
“What is it?” “Urgent message from Coon Ass!”
I grabbed the scroll from his hand. I had not even heard from Coon Ass for some weeks now. His travels took him away for long stretches at a time and I only ever saw him infrequently. But what could be so urgent?
I unrolled the note and began to read:
“Dearest RAIVEN,
“I implore of you some assistance as I have been gravely injured and robbed of my armour and gold. Whilst traveling alone to Bal Tor I became hopelessly lost and requested the assistance of an acquaintance whom I happened to encounter on my quest. He told me he would serve as my guide but instead led me into a trap. They left me beaten and all but naked and I pleaded for them to tell me why. “Because RAIVEN messed up my hunt “ Was his reply. Can this be true?
“Your servant in Chaos Army,
“Coon Ass”
As ever dear reader, may you dance always with dragons and may your place in the army of Chaos always be there for the taking.
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Post by RAIVEN on Apr 21, 2008 22:48:22 GMT -7
"The Hearts of Men" --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"That's where you find the the substance of a warrior..
The eyes are the windows..
I learned early on, a gaze into those windows can tell all about the warrior behind them..
Those hearts of gold always ready with a heal and a helping hand.. Those hearts of stone who are quicker to show their backs than their eyes.. Hearts of greed always lurking, waiting for their next con in the pubs..
Hearts of courage who give you full view of their own windows, never looking away.. Hearts of fear who's windows shake and cast down at the sight of yours..
Anyone who takes up the sword will sooner or later realize it's not just the windows around you that must be gazed upon but one's own. May those who find this journal gaze deep inside themselves and find the heart they desire.
But there will always be warriors who stare inward and find their heart lacking..
As for my own... I've stared deep inside that furnace, as have others, and come short of an answer. For whatever the subtance may be, it burns to bright to see, and too hot to approach.. Save one."
I read the page of the old manuscript over and over, mesmerized by the words, lost in the past, not my past but the past of the old clan Chieftan Jurnyman.
So many of the old Chieftans are gone now. Even my own leader is no longer with us, faded into the past, legend and ghost. So little honour is found among warriors now. The old code has faded. Even the followers of darkness had honour; a code of the brotherhood, first and foremost. Hearts of Darkness but not of coal.
A powerful wizard nearly destroyed us all. Even Chaos was nearly vanquished by the treachery. Some of us were turned into another form altogether. I was returned to this land at last, memory of missing time lost; my clan insignia, my tatoos gone. No longer did I have the physical manifestations of my loyalty, my clan, only in my heart could I still feel the pull of the brotherhood.
With G_3 gone the clan was now scattered. Those few left loyal to the clan had faded into memory. Some were ghosts. Some were old warriors with only memory of past glory left; carried in their hearts; told in near forgotten stories.
There are those who would try to steal the past; live the glories that were never theirs, despoil the stories of their enemies, rip the medals of valour from their chests and try to pin them on themselves- ragged and false. Everywhere I see treachery and betrayal. No longer do the new breed of warrior lift sword against monsters but against each other. Land pirates they are. They travel in packs like wolves, feral and wild, robbing the lone traveller; taking from him what is not theirs; glorifying theft and dishonour.
I put down the page from the old manuscript, shaking myself out of reverie. I silently ask Chaos for a blessing for the old Clan Chief. Generations to come may one day find the old stories and revel in the old magic. And someday tell their children of the past glories and the heroic deeds of the faded warriors who came before them and carved their names in the mantle.
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Post by Insidius on Apr 22, 2008 0:43:33 GMT -7
Hear, Hear.
Well written Raiv!
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Pitch Black
Sorcerer's Minion
All consuming, I ravage thine mind first
Posts: 14
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Post by Pitch Black on Apr 24, 2008 12:29:53 GMT -7
is this all true stories?
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Post by Insidius on Apr 24, 2008 19:30:16 GMT -7
Yes they are pitch.
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Post by RAIVEN on Jun 14, 2008 12:29:33 GMT -7
I think I am going to move the end game stuff over to its own thread and let Skie tell the story.
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Post by RAIVEN on Jul 13, 2008 20:37:07 GMT -7
Dearest Reader,
It has been some time since I have written, and I apologize. Recently, my heart has been in the past. I have seen visions of our old Captain, yaWn. I must admit I have been lost since the curse was put upon me. I look down at my wrists and I see the COC insignia missing, the dragons burned into my arms, gone. KOR is a fine group of warriors but I felt like an outsider, a stranger in a foreign land and I pined for home. I have been falling ever deeper into Darkness, lonliness, and despair, my heart ever hardening. My birds are my only companions. I hunt alone. Like the Morrigan, I guide the unwary warrior to his death and into hell. I will not touch the undead things. The acrid rotting smell repels me. I wander with the dragons. Sometimes I am them, their spirit burning inside me. If one challenges me, his red eyes glaring, turning to slits of hatred and fire, I stand my ground. I do not fear the death they may bring. I dwell in the heart of evil, the very same town that saw Chaos in chains.
It was in a dream that I had seen yaWn. The Shapeshifter. Always resiliant. Ever morphing. There he stood. Ephemeral. Elusive. Fading into ghostliness. And back. He was smiling, his sly smile and I awoke to find myself confronted by another ghost.
"General?" He was standing at the foot of my bed. Dawn was just breaking and his form was a silhouette before me.
"Blackbird, What is this I hear about you leaving the clan?"
"I never left!" I was in tears now, but they were tears of happiness.
He took my hands and turned my arms over, exposing my forearms. The tatoos began to reappear faintly at first, then to full color. My own tears fell upon my wrists like burning acid and as they did so the dragons that had been burned upon them with hot irons so long ago slowly reappeared.
I began to laugh, and danced around the room with joy. My ravens on the balcony outside joined in with loud, fluttering caws, the General stood patiently watching me, smiling indulgently.
"Come here, Blackbird."
I ran into his open arms. "Home again."
Kind reader may you dance always with dragons and may your place in the army of Chaos ever be assured.
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