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 Reavers vs. The World (part 2) 
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Stablehand

Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 29
Location: The city of Crossing
Post wartime
Norgarth was busily rebuilding his realm again. Scummers, while a vital part of any guild's arsenal, do not last long once they have been identified.

The Reavers had shown a wide variety of reactions to the war. Some proudly rebuilt their realms or built new ones beneath the Reavers banner. Others flew no banner but Foret's, seeking to strike from anominity. Others, of weak heart fled, abandoning their fellows to take refuge among other guilds.

Norgarth's greatest disdain, however, was reserved for the handful of former Reavers that falsely took up the colors of Isonia and Darden only to continue to wage war of the coalition's members. Norgarth does not know if they seek to disrupt the alliance between the orange and the purple, or a vain attempt to sneak into the coalition's planning sessions, or mearly because they are so craven as to hide amongst a faith they dispise so as to escape the wrath of that faith's warriors.

But in the end, though much reduced in membership, the Reavers fight on, and Norgarth can respect their spirit, dispite his dislike of them and their past actions.

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"Today might be a good day to die, but I prefer that it happen to somebody else." - Shadow


Sat Feb 01, 2003 7:27 pm
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Stablehand
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as many moons had passed since there was peace in the kingdoms of maxim,the skies finally started to clear of smoke and the stars were once again visable.but for how long he did not know,as peace among all had not yet seemed to be certain.as a loyal follower of the Reavers and a follower of the great god foret,he had delivered much destruction to the enemy and had also taken his share of destruction in the war that seemed to last forever.

as his kingdom once stood among the elite,it had also fell to the enemy during battle,but his men fought on with great will and made thier god proud.so it was time to start to rebuild and create new life,so that they can continue the legacy of his kingdom and banner he serves under.he felt the age pass by quickly and new the new age would probably soon come,but untill then he would continue to build and wage war against all who oppose him and his faithmates.

the enemy proved to be a worthy opponent indeed.they had joined together to take on one of the more powerful forces in the lands,and had much success,like a army of ants,taking on the much bigger spiders.as it be many kingdoms would start to rebuild and once again fight for thier gods untill the end of all ages.to say the least,it will be written in the books,as being one of the great battles of the ages that no man,woman or child would soon forget.


Sat Feb 01, 2003 11:48 pm
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Pseudo-Voodoo Sidhe
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Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
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Location: Somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow
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The howling of the desert wind was a constant sound this night, like the wailing of a thousand banshees who foretold the deaths of the enemies of the desert people. Death came in far greater numbers than that these days though, hundreds of thousands of people might lay their heads down to sleep only to never wake. The brutal combined magics of the alliance sought them out in the dark, stilling their breaths while the fires of their own temples still raged. All she hoped was that those people died easily, that they never knew any pain as they were ushered into the afterlife. No that wasn't entirely true, the sorceress trusted that the ordinary folk felt not pain, the general populace of the Foretians shouldn't be punished for the greed of their leaders. But those lords and ladies...

Lyssia smiled bitterly, speaking to herself, You should be more careful, at this rate you'll end up thinking like Ebony. No, none should die in agony, death steals enough from mortal creatures, it should not steal their dignity as well.

Before her lay a series of scrolls, a small pot of ink and a quill made from a feather of deepest black, shimmering in the lamplight. Some of the scrolls had writing upon them while others still remained blank though in their time they would be filled, the task that the Sidhe woman had set herself would need all this parchment and more. She had neglected her duty in the world for too long, it had been many an age since she had written down the actions of the world. Ever since her library had burned in the storm that had destroyed Gyppeswyk she had not lifted a quill and set it to parchment. Now she had been goaded back into action, recalling the last moments of her former city and recording them, though the tale was for her eyes alone.

Rakeesh suddenly darted into the tent, his eyes a little wider than they usually were, his gestures beckoning her before he ever spoke a word. There is a visitor, the outer guard caught him and...he speaks strangely but he wishes to meet with you witch lady. How she wished he would not call her that though she knew that the chances of that were slim. Still at least the boy did not spit the word 'witch' with such venom at her as others in the camp did. Perhaps there was hope for her after all if at least one of Ebony's people was willing to accept her.

Well then child, you had best lead me to this stranger to our camp, Lyssia said softly, rising up from the rug and setting the scrolls to one side. People rarely sought out those of the desert, leaving them to their harsh homelands and their faith, for it was well known that the desert people were devoted to Darden as they were to no other.

She followed Rakeesh out into the much cooler night air, though the sands might blaze during the day, at night it could become as cold as the most northern reaches. A place of extremes, the desert rarely did as it was predicted to, always twisting and turning to reveal a new, and more likely than not, unexpected face. But it was beautiful in its own way, the sands glittering like tiny jewels under the moonlight, a treasury fit for the Gods if ever she saw one. Small campfires littered the area, each surrounded by their own compliment of warriors left behind to protect those who could not fight. From the nearby tents she could hear the low murmuring of the priests at their business, muttering their prayers and entrusting the souls of all to their Lord. Lyssia shuddered at that thought, the last thing she wanted was her soul given over to a deity, no matter what debt she owed Him.

Ahead she could make out their visitor, the outer guards standing watch over him, silent and impassive as they always were. The sorceress let her eyes wander over the man, not recognising him at first for many an age had passed since they had last seen one another. Indeed it was not until her gaze swept over his black arm that she realised who it was that stood before her, the memories of their last meeting causing her to miss a breath. Go back to your posts, she said to the guards, knowing that there was little they could do to this one if he choose to be the agressor.

Lyssia looked back to her 'guest', glad that Ebony and Silus were dealing with matters far from here. You are quite possibly the last person I had thought to find here, she said simply, wondering how long it had taken him to track this encampment down. With one hand she pointed towards his arm, I see that you still bear the marks of the lake. Turning away quickly she started to make her way back to the tent, Will you not follow me? I think it would be best if we spoke in privacy rather than out here, you never know who might be listening and I doubt either of us wishes our 'enemies' to be a part of our conversation.

Her mind was a whirl, what did Sorentio want with her? What had brought him out here to the desert? She very much doubted that it was to simply reminisce over old times together.

_________________
SO - Into darkness...
Hlasta! Quetis Ilfirimain
Elador's Sváss


Sun Feb 02, 2003 2:51 am
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Stablehand

Joined: Sat Dec 14, 2002 10:44 am
Posts: 12
Post 1 down, 4 to go
Now there are two buildings in the frozen wasteland. A temple and a place for his friends to sleep. There are now 8 peasants, a friendly guard, and Chester.

Chester looks into the frozen air and calls his friends again with his summons and his eyes turn red again.

The three black shapes appeared again. Monkey, Valkyrie and Chuckles

"My friends, the leader of SIN is considered worthy and dignified, they will have peace in the world. WoR, TEN, COFC, and IOM are next. None of the masters of these guilds have even attempted to contact me, now bring down WoR, it is their turn."

The shapes dissappeared as his eyes lost their red color


Sun Feb 02, 2003 5:38 pm
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Stablehand
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The Sidhe smiled slightly as Lyssia noticed his arm. So, she did remember. All the better.

He followed her soundlessly into her tent, waiting but a moment for the flap to close. He slid his sleeve up his arm, revealing the entire length, coated nearly up to the shoulder in the onyx poison. Near the top of his arm, the black seemed to stretch forth tiny tendrils, trying to crawl ever forward.

"On and on the poison spreads,
The stuff will never stop, I dread.
I push it back with all my might,
But still I cannot win this fight.
With just a fingertip it starts,
Yet will not stop short of my heart.
Soon I'll become just like that Elf,
But do not want to lose myself!
You saw when first this touch was made,
Can you find no way to lend me aid?"


As usual, the Sidhe grimaced at the limits placed upon his communicative skills, but there was no help for it. Lyssia was far more familiar with all things magical...surely she could think of something!

_________________
[center]Sorentio Rhicende
Rhyming Magician
Sanctum Officium
1am GMT 27/3/04
[/center]


Mon Feb 03, 2003 9:45 am
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Stablehand
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Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 100
Location: Your nightmares.
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She hadn't questioned him again- hadn't he joined her and stood by her side in battle? If she was still uncertain, it was not in his faith or desire to pour Darden's woe on the heathens. Whatever melancholy had burdened his soul, had to all appearances been quashed. No. If she was uncertain, it was in her own position- not his. While trying to encourage him, to bolster him, she'd learned things that had bashed her confidence like a flood washing away a flimsily built dwelling.

Yes, he'd come to fight by her side. He looked on her as a warrior- and a good one, but that didn't take the sting away. She knew now what he had truly felt of her all these long months, when she'd thought her position higher than it was. She was extremely fond of the feral kitten she'd found in front of the keep a month before and was proud of it's prowess- but that didn't mean she looked on it as an equal. Her pride had crumbled at the knowledge that she was that "wild cat" to him.

Even worse was a new knowledge about herself that even he did not know. The knowledge that her faith was a pretense- a sham. She never had been as devout as the others. She'd known that. But when she had been faced with Maledict's weakness- she'd tried to draw on her own faith to help him and had discovered nothing there. Somehow in her anger and confusion, she'd said the right things to shake him out of his grief- but the knowledge that she had nothing to fall back on had set her drifting.

What did she have? The demon? He respected her abilities. Had some small measure of care about her. But she didn't trust that he could so easily forget his prejudices against humans. Not after his deep anguish at discovering his lineage. She certainly didn't have Darden. Her faith was non-existent without the demon's belief to prop it up. When the demon finally tired of her, she would again be totally alone.

Narrowing her eyes, she shoved her blade into another Foretian soldier who had come into her sights. Such things should not matter to her. She had become weak, if the idea of relying totally on herself was now abhorent to her. She was not weak and she need not rely on anyone- not even a god.

Giggling softly at the warmth that poured from the man onto her hands, she pushed the blade in deeper, her eyes searching a face that knew it was going to die. Her heart stopped for the briefest of seconds and then fury pulsed through her. He was praying to Foret. Instead of fear, she saw peace. Screaming out her rage, she sliced into him, making it impossible for him to continue his prayer. If she could not find solace in faith, she was not going to allow a dog of a heathen the luxury. Continuing her scream, she ran forward, the throng swallowing her and leaving the demon behind.

If the heathens were confused at the site of tears streaming down a hate crazed face, they would not know the tears were from self-loathing or the hate for herself.

_________________
It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you.
Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe...
...the night belongs to us.


Mon Feb 03, 2003 2:02 pm
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Pseudo-Voodoo Sidhe
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Location: Somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow
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The sorceress nodded to herself as she listened to Sorentio's rhymes, apparently unfazed by the magician's inability to speak plainly. She remembered well enough that he could not help that, though she had nver inquired about the reason behind it. Over the years she had encountered many curses with effects that ranged from the minor to the eternal, Lyssia could only imagine what Sorentio had done to be cursed so. It was rare for one magic user to do such a thing to another...rare but not unheard of.

She sat down upon the rug once more, pushing away the scrolls that still lay upon it. The recording of the past would wait while she turned her attention to the puzzle that was now presented to her. The past was always there, always waiting for people to look back upon it and learn from the mistakes that were made. It was a pity that few thought to take advantage of the wealth of knowledge that stretched out behind them, prefering instead to make the same mistakes, never thinking that they could be avoided. More than once Lyssia had wondered if perhaps the world was not as blind to the reprecusssions of their actions as her host Ebony was to the world of light and colour about her.

Maybe the same was true of the Onyx lake where she and Kara had first met Sorentio. Perhaps people still came across that place, falling to the magic of its foul waters, consumed utterly by them while the elf who lived there watched on. It was a thought that sent shivers down her spine, especially when she realised that she could very easily have fallen to the waters just as Sorentio appeared to have.

It had started with just a touch, the merest wetting of his finger in those dark and forbiding waters. But it appeared that it had not stopped there, no the waters had not let him squirm from their grip so easily. The blackness must have overtaken ever more of his flesh, slowly claiming further inches of him, so very certain of its eventual victory. It would give him power though, she was certain of that, she could practically sense it across the distance between them, a feeling of the arcane that seemed to crawl over her senses. Power but at such a terrible cost, she said to herself, barely aware that the words had been given voice.

The sorceress shook herself from her thoughts, focusing her eyes upon her guest once more, knowing that she could not turn him away now that he had asked for her help. I remember the time at the Onyx lake well enough, and the elf who was the apparent guardian of that place. The water was a most unnatural thing, I cannot believe that the lands created such a place and yet I have never come across any other explanation of its existance. Lyssia paused, frowning, trying to gather her thoughts together and force them into an answer of some sort. I touched the lake just as you did, the tip of my finger and no more broke the surface of the water but it clung to my skin, staining it just as it did to you. Only Kara was able to force the taint of it from my skin, do you remember the phoenix that travelled with me at that time?

The thought of Kara was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes, the memory of the pain that the Sidhe woman had suffered when the bird had died and in doing so had ripped their shared soul in two. And now even though the phoenix lived again, they were apart, the wound that had appeared between them had never healed truly. But still, perhaps Kara's flames could help Sorentio, burning away the impurities that were now trying to overcome him. Of course there was also the risk that the mere touch of the phoenix could kill him, searing his flesh from his bones and leaving nothing more than ash behind.

_________________
SO - Into darkness...
Hlasta! Quetis Ilfirimain
Elador's Sváss


Tue Feb 04, 2003 4:59 am
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