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 Dancing with Wraiths - Ivalice' Secret (Reverent + semiopen) 
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Flaming Toaster
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Post Dancing with Wraiths - Ivalice' Secret (Reverent + semiopen)
OOC: Note - all Reverent members can freely post here. Anyone else.....please do the courtesy of contacting me, unless you are certain people, and they know who they are *winks* End of OOC on my end.

The mists rolled lazily across the war-torn fields beneath the fire blackened citadel, stronghold of an enemy that made her blood boil, made her heart burn for vengeance. She wasn't there - she stood overlooking the carnage from a bluff not far off. Flames flew, vibrant and horrible, remnants of magics from magicians long past their times. Men in battle armor astride horses flew into the throng, blades of silver steel flying, glinting in the pale light of moring and quickly dulling in blood, sheets of it flying to the air from severed necks, gutted men, and from men run through.

War. She knew the place, even if it was past, and she knew the war, even if it was insignificant. War with the followers of God whom she had been told could solve her problems, who could answer the riddles that eddied about her head. War for Ivalice.

The towers crumbled, fell into the massed groupings of her soldiers.....her people, to whom she had been a legend and little else, never seen, always present. They fought for her and her families cause, without ever stopping to think what the cause was. And the simple truth was....then, she didn't know herself. She still didn't. She could barely remember the time before the Tiavain, before the Istari and their sorcerors plied their magics upon her and changed her. Changed her to her very core, and she was uncertain as to wether it was for the better.

She turned to watch the battle again, and watched as the archers from the towers launched their bolts into the thick. The cries of agony rose higher....

And then faded away, a mere background noise. A word formed.

Remember.


She snapped awake, silver lockes of hair lank with the dampness of sweat flopped over her chest as she rose to a sitting position, breath coming in short, frantic gasps. And there she stay, heaving for breath and wiping away beads of sweat that had formed liked dew on her forehead, listening to the soft sounds of night in the valley around her. Somewhere an owl hooted its haunting melody; this did nothing for her. She slowly lay back again, draping the sheets over her bare breasts and staring at the ceiling.

Remember.

The word sat in front of her sightless violet eyes, eyes that seemed to radiate with an inner glow of their own when she opened them. They were open now.

Remember. Remember What? Ivalice? And then, the inevitable question, was which one? The Old Ivalice, the one she stayed in now, since the ruins of the Ivalice she had been born in were cursed, both with the Isonian presence and with the spirits of the damned, men and women who had lost their lives in that horrific battle. The silver haired sorceress shuddered at the though of the dead and damned there.

So....something about Ivalice, or the war.

A dark place, filled with agony and pain....an ending, a light, the Blade that was Lost, and she who betrays....

She shook her head, and rubbed her temples. The breeze in the room ruffled her hair a bit, and sent goosepimples on the march across her bare flesh. The cool caress of the wind was welcome this eve....for not too many more fair nights like this one remained to the valley. She sighed softly, and slid through the covers until her feet hung over the edge of the bed, brushing the cold stone with the tips of her toes. She felt around with her foot at first, then groped about the bedside, searching for her staff. She felt the impression of the room brush across her minds eye and vanish, backtracked an inch, and grasped the oak staff firmly. The room displayed itself in her mind.....not true sight, but the closest she would ever come.

Until, of course, someone could cure her of her blindness.

She slid off of the bed, bare feet slapping against cold stone, and then wandered slowly to the corner with a window in it. She reached up and grabbed a silken kimono, wrapping herself in the thin but comfortable clothing. The wind tugged at that and her hair, and she gazed blindly out the window, wondering - not for the first time - what the world looked like outside of magic. Here, the valley stretched out in the impression of greyness, lines, curves, borders....many things that had names and meanings that she could not begin to know. So much to learn.

She turned about and walked across the worn stone floor, the chill coming from the stone sending shivers up her spine, making her breath come harder than before. She came to a crumbling doorway, and walked out into a rubble strewn hallway.

Old Ivalice. Where the first of her families long line had lived and fought. And now it was merely a forgotten relic of days gone by. An era locked away in the woods to be forgotten.....but why? She had heard stories of the horrific wars that had occured here....the sieges it had staved off, the lands it had conquered. Why give it up so easily? For a new home? She did not believe it to be so simple. No one moved an entire kingdom over something so simple.

She turned at the only corner there was in the hall - the remainded was collapsed and filled with rubble. Moonlight spilled down through the open wall, displaying a courtyard that had been walled off withing the keeps walls long before. Now it stood open to the country.

She turned here, and wandered into the overgrown gardens here, taking a seat beneath a tree that dwarfed her four foot frame. She settled her back against its roots, her head against its trunk, and stared up into its branches.

Remember.....what?

_________________
GM Ordo Draco | Co-GM Demonic Reality | GM Revenant & Calael
And when the men on the chess board get up and tell you where to go.
And you've just had some kinda mushroom, and your mind is moving low.
Ask Seska. I think he knows...


Thu Oct 30, 2003 12:41 am
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Post Silent Shadows.
The lone howl of a wolf, ripping the silence of the night in half. And somewhere overhead, the limbs rustled softly.

The Dragon looked out over the fields of the valley - the bogs at its far end, miles distant. The fields, overgrown from decades on decades of disuse, gone back to the original owners - the isle herself. This place....was filled with memories, and not memories that were bound to the inside of ones head....but memories that left their mark upon the land. These were memories created by people - human, faefolk...it made no difference.

She sighed direfuly, and leaned back against the crumbling stone crenellations of one of the few remaining sections of wall that had enclosed this place once, long before. The wind up here was stronger than down there, grabbing at the odd wrapping of dirty, old clothing that she wore from the tip of her head to her feet. Eyes - reptilian and stragenly, a crystaline blue, peered through narrow slits, the only window to the world, both the one outside and the one from within.

It was disgraceful, really....held on this rock that smelled of the piss of war - lives lost, the blood of innocence. Of wounded pride, and the stench of greed, intermingled with the one whom she had thought to seek. Trapped here because of a promise made to a dying woman, a woman who had died doing the exact same thing she was doing now - protecting this girl. A strange girl.....

Becuase, unlike anything else in the lands, she could not understand her.....a being, a child barely...who had the feeling of a being as old as herself. And not just as old...but as powerful, as if somewhere beneath the kind exterior of a blind girl....a teenager, really....was something terrible that made the Demon she hunted seem like a nice guy.

Help her.....find the right way.....and protect her.... ....for me...

The Dragon shut her eyes. Was this why she had been brought back to the island? To babysit....a girl? A girl with big ideas and with a sense of righteousness in her, but a girl none the less?

She stood suddenly, brown cloth flitting back and forth in the stiff breeze. She looked out over the valley, sighing. She reached down, and picked up the blade she had just finished honing, its polished surface reflecting the moons and stars above. Then she leapt over the edge of the wall, a seventy foot drop with her clothing, wrapped tight about her ankles and wrists, flapping about her.

She landed with unearthly grace, like a cat. She stood for a second, testing the air with her nose all the while looking at the person that was her charge, before approaching her slowly.

"Trouble sleeping again?" She said, her voice clear and sharp and full of melody. The child laying on the overgrown grasses moved, turned her sightless eyes to look at her. The gaze was unsettling, even to her. "....the dreams....." She said, vaguely, then turned to look back into the branches. The Dragon stiffened.

Dreams again, she thought, as she launched herself into the branches of the tree above the child sorceress. The tree shuddered and groaned very little despite what was in its branches, and then went altogether still and silent.

The Dreams. Maybe the Dreams kept the wanderer up too, she mused, as she took up position to watch the road and her charge. One would come this evening, apparently.

_________________
[center]The words you say, never seem to live up to the ones inside your head.
The lives we make, never seem to get us anywhere but dead.
[/center]


Thu Oct 30, 2003 1:57 am
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Far removed from the constant bickerings of the world, Atredia sat atop the small hill overlooking the surrounding valley. Off in the distance he spied the smoke of yet another funeral pyre reaching for the sky, and, in some respects, to the gods themselves. War had torn this beautiful isle apart, leaving nothing but the shattered lives of the unfortunate survivors and these billows of smoke that they often had to create. How many more people need to die before the leaders of the kingdoms realize the truth? How many more hypocrites are willing to fight and kill for peace? To think that a countless number of wars were for nothing but the amusement of those who wished for bloodshed.

“What have we done to deserve this?” he cried out to the gods in frustration.

There was no answer. There never was an answer. The gods had forsaken the people, caring for nothing more than their own selfish agenda. He had tried to escape their taint once, to escape to a world where life was revered and where he could depend upon goodness of his fellow man.
He laughed at his own naivety. It would never happen. For the people were always driven by their insatiable lust for greed and power.

He had seen this happen before; after all, he was no novice to war. He was originally from the land of Borage, home of the Great Guilds. He had thought that they would bring change into the world, to restore humanity back into the world and into the people. But he was deceived. Wars were started at the drop of the sword and families were broken apart as easily as the Guild leaders’ words. He yearned for better days and had headed for Maxim in hopes of realizing his dream. Much to his dismay, he found that the devil’s foul hand had already swept through much of the Isle. Worse, he was alone now, with no home to call his own.

A small rustling off to the side quickly roused him from his reverie. His hand inched slowly to his blade as he turned toward the source. He relaxed visibly when he noted that the offender was no more than a small piece of parchment snagged upon the roots of a nearby tree. The wind had apparently lost its victim and was struggling vainly to reclaim the weather beaten paper. Curiosity getting the better of him, he reached down and plucked it from its new home. Much of the writing had faded to obscurity, and it seemed that this particular message had been through a lot of abuse. There were smears, burn marks and it seemed as if a child had gotten hold of this and had been aimlessly drawing pictures of (what he believed to be) heathens burning on a stake. Despite all that, one section of the message still was visible and piqued his interest.

Quote:
“The isle sickens. The isle needs a cure, and the…rests in our hands, and it is this reason… call to the leaders… to discuss these things. The Reverent will gather… the island is more important than power and wealth. Maybe - just maybe, we … before it perishes.”


He nodded in silent agreement. In his heart he knew, that these very people will be the ones who would be able to rid the taint of Maxim and restore the world to what it was. He was no leader, but still, he wished to meet with this mysterious person who could make such bold statements as to the cleansing of the land. Without a second thought, he quickly dusted off his jerkin and started straight for the nearest city to inquire about this “Reverent”.

The cry for the purification had been sent throughout the land. This was his answer.

_________________
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;


Thu Oct 30, 2003 2:22 am
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edit: thank you TB for your lack of indentations/awkward spacing.

Summer’s last sunset sparkled from between the roofs of the nearby city. The streets were beginning to teem with the life, eagerly anticipating the coming revelries after a long day of work. The merchants heralded the end of the day with cries of reduced prices on their wares, and the denizens of night began to stir from their lairs. A gentle wind blew from the nearby mountains, a quiet reminder of days long past. Fall would be arriving, and not a moment too soon.

But Atredia didn’t have the luxury of time. He had originally entered the city with high hopes and eagerness born of curiosity to find this Reverent. But the hours passed into days; the days passed into weeks. Still he was not able to find any clue to the whereabouts this elusive group. The local people had neither heard of the Reverent nor wanted anything to do with it.

Unfortunately for him, the fruitless questioning and empty responses were beginning to take its toll upon his weary mind. He had all but given up and decided to head toward the nearest inn, to loosen him up and -- just for a night – drink his troubles away.

The tavern hall of the inn was bustling with activity by the time Atredia entered. After all, there were very few inns in the city that had comfortable rooms, a generous meal, and an innkeeper who wouldn’t overcharge on either commodity. He took a seat near the hearth and allowed himself to be surrounded with the local tavern gossip.

“Can you believe the nerve of people these days?” a rather plump lady boisterously exclaimed to her equally plump (presumably) husband. “Why just the other day somebody came up to ME with a scrappy piece of paper and asked me if I knew about some revenant.”

“You don’t say,” the husband half heartedly replied.

“Why, I do! Speaking about spooks and such so close to the holy days. Why if I were… ”

Atredia rolled his eyes and began to dig into the meal that has just arrived. Halfway through his stew, two men – adventurers by the looks of it – took a seat behind him and began to chat in low voices. Having absolutely nothing better to do, he decided to listen in (the lady and man had just left for the festivities, after all).

“… the ruins of the old castle is said to be haunted.”

“Ghosts?”

“By Foret, who knows. I’ve heard it was a delirious witch whispering something about the ‘Reverent’ who lives there.”

Atredia nearly choked on his current spoonful of stew. He continued to listen despite the chunks of rabbit and carrots lodged in his throat.
“There’s not much left there anyways.”

“Aye, let the sleeping ruins lie. There’s better treasure elsewhere.”

“I’ve heard that there’s treasure over by yonder hills.”

He had heard enough. This was the best lead that he heard from anywhere, and all it (nearly) cost him was life. Without so much as a second thought, he quickly rose from his seat, dropped a few coins into the innkeeper’s palms and headed for the door. He had a long trek ahead of him.

_________________
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;


Thu Oct 30, 2003 2:24 am
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Something magical hung in the air that night, an inescapable feeling of freedom and adventure that would have made even the most rock-headed dwarf feel as if he was once again alive in a time where his beard was no more than stubble. The sky, clear from the previous nights’ rains, was decorated with a sea of twinkling stars, each trying to outshine the other. This was one of those nights that dreamers and poets often fantasized about.

Bathed in the moonlight, Atredia couldn’t help but add an extra bounce into his step. Although he had been travelling for several hours, his (mis)adventures in the city had given him a burst of adrenaline that lingered in his veins and pushed him on his way. Finally after all the searching, he was heading towards his answer and, ultimately, his salvation.

He followed the main road without much thought, heading in the general direction that the local townsfolk had pointed out. A flood of relief washed through him, as he noticed an old weather beaten way post on the side of the road. There was nothing written that held any particular interest to him except for one sign on the very bottom. The writing was old – most had already been obscured from lack of care -- but enough was legible for reading.

“The road to Ivalice lies ahead.”

Atredia nodded solemnly. He was on the right track after all. His impatience getting the better of him, he quickened his pace and continued on his way through the unbeaten path. There would be no more delay.

[center]***[/center]
The trip was rather uneventful, but it was made longer than it needed to be by the terrain. Over and across the rugged mountains, and through a grassy knoll, he plodded on, driven by nothing but sheer determination. It wasn’t until he crested the last hill that he was finally able to lay his eyes upon the old keep itself.

Time and decay had taken a heavy toll upon the structure. Cracks lined the once impressive stone walls and the wooden doors hung upon rusted hinges. Battlements that once roared with the cries of its defenders now sounded only with the whispers of the wind. This keep had fought two battles: once with an armed foe, another with time itself. It was clearly obvious that it had lost both.

Atredia gingerly crossed the broken down drawbridge, taking extra care should the rotting wood collapse under his weight. He drew his sword as he reached the entrance, unsure and unaware of what dangers lurked ahead. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, betraying what sense of courage he could muster. There was something about this old building… something… ancient.

He silently entered through what was left of the gates, and slipped into what he believed to be what remained of the keep’s courtyard. The grounds had fallen long into neglect; the flora had grown wild over certain spots and weeds now dominated most of the path. A lone tree stood by the side, impassive to the change that had been brought to these once tended grounds.

He studied the tree a bit longer, and noticed that the trunk was a little oddly shaped. All his fears flown, he inched a little closer to get a better look at the curious oddity. He nearly jumped back when he realized that what he had been scrutinizing was none other than a person.

“The witch?” he yelped unconsciously.

He clamped his hand over his mouth and gave a little groan. Surely, the figure would have noticed him now had she not before. He threw up his sword into whatever pitiful defense he could muster and waited.

“Perhaps,” he sighed inwardly to himself, “I could live the rest of my life as a toad.” Try as he might, he couldn’t help but wince at the thought.

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The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;


Thu Oct 30, 2003 8:51 pm
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"Witch, am I?" Came a voice from beneath the tree, concealed in its shadows. There was no threat in the voice, only curiosity. She shimmied up the trunk of the tree a little more, never once looking towards the intruder. She didn't need to.

"Well...I suppose, welcome to Ivalice or what remains of it. At least this one is crawling with legions of Isonia....Northern Ivalice if you will. Please....there is no need for weapons. There isn't but a single weapon in this entire place that could harm you, and if it could have, you would have been dead by now..."

There was a faint rustle in the tree above, and then the sound of someone landing silently on the grass. Yes, there was a sound of silence. There was also a sound that simply oozed the concept of sharp and pointy, and gave the distinct impression that everyone here was friends, and....gee....if we all put our swords down no one would walk away minus a limb. Normally, sounds weren't so communicative. These were.

"Lord.....well, whoever you are. Meet Celes, my keeper of sorts. I am sure you didn't come all the way out here into the middle of nowhere to be turned into a frog....I know real witches and mages that would leap at the opportunity. WHo are you....and what have you come for?"

_________________
GM Ordo Draco | Co-GM Demonic Reality | GM Revenant & Calael
And when the men on the chess board get up and tell you where to go.
And you've just had some kinda mushroom, and your mind is moving low.
Ask Seska. I think he knows...


Sat Nov 01, 2003 1:07 am
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It was a surprise when Atredia realized that the "witch" was not alone. He looked at both the strangers and sensed no imminent danger from the either of them. Somewhat reluctantly, he sheathed his blade. He had to admit, though, there was some truth to her words after all. Still, he took a cautious step back. If there ever was something that he had learned, it was that looks often were deceiving. He cleared his throat and smoothed his cloak in a vain attempt to retain what little control he had left.

"I am Atredia Rhansun, servant to no man, lord to no lands. I have come in search of the one who has the courage to change this wretched world." He paused to quickly rummage through his pockets. After a brief moment of rummaging, he held out a torn parchment. "I am searching for the person who dares to oppose the collective will of the gods, to bring change in the world and to unite the people in an ideal world. I am searching for the Reverant. I've heard that, perhaps, they were gathering here."

He laughed. He didn't know what exactly compelled him to tell her everything, but it just happened to all tumble out. This girl -- probably no more than ten and eight winters at best -- would have problems of her own and would not need other people's problems thrown upon her shoulder. But still, there was something about her that made him feel uneasy and relaxed all at the same time.

He bit his lower lip, his curiousity getting the better of him. "If you don't mind me asking, what is your name and, tell me, what is a maiden like yourself doing in a dreary place like this and at this time of night? It is no place for someone like yourself." Sensing that he might have crossed the line with the question, he quickly added, "I mean no offense, of course."

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The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;


Sun Nov 02, 2003 2:25 am
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"Atredia Rhansun..." The girl seemed to test the word on her tongue, tasting the name, and for better or worse seemed undistrubed by it. "A man without title....such a strange thing, anymore, to find such a man wandering about. It seems that everyone who dares to wander is some magician or warrior of great calibre, Lord to thousands or millions. And, on top of it all, a man without title seeking someone who sounds very important..."

She watched as he rummaged about in his pockets, and after a few seconds, he produced a piece of battered parchment. The writing upon it was that of the common tongue, and at the bottom, the runic writings of the ancient elves, the language that magicians prefered to write with. She smilled faintly in the pale light, her pale skin seeming as white as snow. She took the parchment without lookking at it or reading it - she couldn't, at any rate. Her eyes remained closed the entire time, as if she were asleep. She ran her fingers over the writing, slowly, and then handed it back to him.

"Someone whom dares oppose the will of the gods. Funny, but the notion of there ever being more than one seems amusing to me....for those who follow the Faith, there is but one God and the rest are not even whispered stories. Just lies. But I....have only a passing interest in the whims of God, whomever he or she may be. Especially since these are merely puppets of...."

She trailed off, looking without eyes at the man before her. And then she opened her eyes, opaque orbs of startling violet. They remained fixed, not following his movements, merely staring straight ahead at something perhaps the girl alone could see. She picked up her staff, and using it to lever herself up, took her feet.

"As to your question, Atredia....my name is Seska Kardis, of the fallen house Kardis that once lived in Ivalice to the northeast of here. I come here because memory remains here, something I have very little of. Something that returns only when pieces of someones' sick puzzle come together. Atredia....I am the Reverent Divine. And this is but one of the gathering points for the Gathering....this is ancient Ivalice."

She took a few steps forward, walking blindly past him, and then indicated with a wide sweeping motion of her staff the fallen, crumbled remains of an ancient keep.

"This will be the place that the Council of the Reverent will be seated, if we can unlock the land of its curse. You came to seek the Reverent? What is your purpose?"

_________________
GM Ordo Draco | Co-GM Demonic Reality | GM Revenant & Calael
And when the men on the chess board get up and tell you where to go.
And you've just had some kinda mushroom, and your mind is moving low.
Ask Seska. I think he knows...


Wed Nov 05, 2003 1:24 am
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The air in the ruins of the keep rippled... an old power breaking the veil. As if some creature from another time and space were stepping through it to meet them there.

The air grew dark and the stones began to vibrate, though imperceptibly. It was as if the entire valley vibrated in unison to welcome or oppose the arrival of the being to whom it spoke. Clouds gather quickly... as if called by the fates themselves, and from the air itself gathers dust and matter.

Energy begins to spark as it takes form... first bones, gathering from nothing, white as snow and humanoid... but somehow not. The muscle tissue and organs forming just after... these are more obviously inhuman... multiple hearts growing where there would be lungs... no lungs at all. The lack of arteries and veins stands out above all... as if this creature lives without the use of blood and air. No stomach... It screams out against natural order and that scream is loud.

As the muscle fibers begin to materialize, also ghost-white, the ground stops vibrating... as if the land itself understands who and what this is. The muscle is odd... crosswoven instead of being layered in a uniform direction. The density obviously many times that of a man.

Finally, the skin begins to form... white flesh and long white hair. As it forms a cloak follows, covering the flesh almost as quickly as it is drawn from the air.

When at last his formation is complete the being grins, his face shadowed by the hood... and laughs coldly. His eyes glow violet and crimson for but a moment and then he speaks.

Old friend... how strange to see you here.

_________________
You thought I LEFT this time? || Pissing people off since creation. || ~God and Jyhad~ || |_/|\_| DLT -*- Reverant -*- Reverent Lord - CoGM


Wed Nov 12, 2003 12:08 am
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Her blood froze.

"Old....friend? You....what the hell are you doing here?" She said, her voice changing from authority to horror to anger, in quick succession. Her face contorted into rage, as she turned to face the unexpected visitor.

"You...dare to come here! After taking sides with that fucking bastard, who tried his damndest to make me his hand puppet?" She spit at him, and pointed her stave menacingly in his direction.

Memories, half pieced together from the broken remnants of the past, came foward now, demanding her attention. Koriasai. The Dark land, and what the bastard Avanth and this creature here had managed to pull off together. Were it not for previous incarnations, they would have managed the unthinkable.

"You're a snake!" She hissed.

She backed towards the tree, seemingly unhindered by blindness until she hit its rough bark. "I know roughly why Atredia is here.....what brings your foul contenance upon me, unless you've had a change of heart since meeting my esteemed villain Avanth?" She said as she conjured up some form of protection.

_________________
GM Ordo Draco | Co-GM Demonic Reality | GM Revenant & Calael
And when the men on the chess board get up and tell you where to go.
And you've just had some kinda mushroom, and your mind is moving low.
Ask Seska. I think he knows...


Wed Nov 12, 2003 1:26 am
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The demon stood silently... regarding Seska without flinching the slightest bit. For a moment his aura flared... radiating outward to encompass the room... the country... the world....

As time slowed to a complete and utter halt to all but the two of them he sighs. The storm around the ruins ceases to rage... light ceases to pass through space and all grows dark. The demon kneels and the world around them, though invisible, now vanishes completely.

Life becomes death... exhistance becomes emptiness.

Here there is nothing physical... no light... no dark... no world... nothing... here eyes are not needed... only the force of will to make things be... so before his consciousness forms Seska... followed by his own kneeling form. The cloak is gone... around his emaciated body cascades a mane of frost white hair.

The shape of his eyes is outlined in an angry crimson glow. His hands, once strong, are now weak and frail. His body, now small, is incalulably stronger... but without the power he had stolen it would collapse upon itself. He had long ago lost his physical body... and it was only through the consumption of souls and the turmoil they generate that he is capable of creating one... and so... before Seska appears a sword... hovering vertically, hilt down, in the air as if to strike...

For a moment it seems as though he would strike her down... and then... the blade drops to the "ground" at her feet... and all his power with it.

The world returns to its former state... and the storm blows around them.

_________________
You thought I LEFT this time? || Pissing people off since creation. || ~God and Jyhad~ || |_/|\_| DLT -*- Reverant -*- Reverent Lord - CoGM


Wed Nov 12, 2003 2:17 am
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Atredia shielded his eyes at the bright light while his cloak swirled about as the stranger materialized seemingly out of thin air. His hair danced upon end as the freak storm suddenly gathered as if heralding the arrival of the stranger. So surprised was he at the sudden unexpected arrival, that he had completely forgotten about the previous conversation with Seska. Despite the urgent calls of his consciousness telling him to move, his jaw still hung agape, and his legs were frozen in place. However, it wasn't until he could truly discern the identity of the new arrival that the idea to take some action began to dawn upon him.

He immediately took a couple stumbling steps back, unsure of what to make of the situation. He knew that this journey would lead him to many new strange and exotic experiences but never had he imagined that it would also lead him to a demon! He had often heard of the tales and descriptions of the demons as a child (after all, according to his elders, the Isonians and Dardenites were the main reasons demons did exist in this world) but to see one with his very eyes shocked and surprised him to his core.

This demon had an otherworldly aura that to Atredia spoke of untold power... and of untold evils. It was almost as if his mere presence alone was a perversion upon the earth that he walked upon. He sucked in a tense breath, fighting to maintain the last bits of controls that he still possessed. For he knew that there would be no way of avoiding confrontation with this demon. Atredia had no place to run.

He drew his blade out, and poised the blade into a fighting position, eyeing the demon with suspicion and fear. Surprisingly, he found enough courage to speak his thoughts. "Foul fiend, what are you doing here?" His words were frantic, bordering towards panic but still he had made no threatening moves toward the demon.

More confusion still when he saw that Seska had apparently recognized the demon. "Who -- What is that thing?" he screamed at Seska, his eyes wide with terror. "I came in search of the Reverent Divine, to pledge my services towards her goals.. but instead.. instead... I find this.. monster." All rational thought had flown from his mind by now.

"Is this your doing?" he demanded, nearing shouting at the top of his lungs. His tone was clear enough: he needed answers, and he needed them now.

_________________
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;


Wed Nov 12, 2003 9:58 pm
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Flaming Toaster
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Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 230
Location: Personal Universe v2.01.05
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The lady stared emptily yet calmly at the stranger, for it was no stranger. Demon Lord Ten....generation upon generation may have passed, but through them all he had been present in some capacity.

"Well, Atredia...you have found the Reverent Divine. I am her. Lord Ten....keep your blade. It is better used in your hands than in my blinded ones." She said, and gripped her own staff all the harder. Just a glimpse. A strange, perverse sense of what she had at her beck and call, to a point....immense strength of the old magicks. She neglected to let on the price for her sorceries though...strong in magic, weak in body, and weaker every day.

She turned her blind eyes upon Atredia, and bade him put down his blade. Compelled, was more like it....a sense of necessity seemed to radiate from her person, stronger than a normal impulse.

"Lord Ten, you have not answered my question yet. You offer yoru blade in my service....but WHY do you offer it? Do you even know what the Reverent are? We're not viscious murderers, we are upholders of justice and honor. Take your chance to explain yourself before him, before he tries to kill you or me or both, and I am forced to interject or leave..."

_________________
GM Ordo Draco | Co-GM Demonic Reality | GM Revenant & Calael
And when the men on the chess board get up and tell you where to go.
And you've just had some kinda mushroom, and your mind is moving low.
Ask Seska. I think he knows...


Thu Nov 13, 2003 4:00 am
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Stablehand
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Joined: Wed Sep 25, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 114
Location: Los Angeles, CA
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The demon regards seska with a smile. Just looks at her for a long moment. The smile, of course, would make any being who could see it or was unacustomed to it whimper... or cringe. It looked as though it could not possibly have been generated by his face... in opposition to all natural laws.

Do you truly think that good and evil matter, Seska? I fight for my own reasons... I am beyond evil... cruel I am... but not NECESSARILY evil.

Once again the blade lifts itself from the floor and his overwhelming power clouds around him. It vanishes and he speaks again.

I cannot see why you would think that I would be worried about the response of a being with whom I am, as we have agreed, equal. My reasons are mine... but I do not OFFER you my service... For the moment you haven't a choice.

Sufficed to say that I am not here to undermine you.. and however cruel I have been in the past I have never lied.

My word may be trusted.


She would not like this... and he did not blame her, but he had felt the calling to join her... and would not leave until he felt equally compelled to do so.

_________________
You thought I LEFT this time? || Pissing people off since creation. || ~God and Jyhad~ || |_/|\_| DLT -*- Reverant -*- Reverent Lord - CoGM


Sat Nov 15, 2003 1:08 am
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