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Topic: The Price of the Fall (RP)

Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian pulled on his breastplate, tugging at the straps to fasten it tight. Tannir hovered in the background, keeping well clear of the young Lord he had served faithfully over the last months. His worried look rarely strayed from the young warrior, but he was cautious about meeting his eyes, for something burned there, he did not want to face. â€œAdvise any who come that Iâ€™ve gone to the hunt with Chaplain Darnyk, boy,â€ Crispian snapped as he clasped his cloak in place. Settling his shield in place after securing his sword, he stepped toward the door. â€œAnd I am sorry if I have been difficult sinceâ€¦that night,â€ he said quietly, yanking the door open and swiftly leaving. The lieutenants and sergeants of the Defenderâ€™s guild did not look at him as he strode through the building. They all had heard of the loud shouting at night, and the vast amounts of ale, that had plagued the young Centurion. He acknowledged salutes and little else as he left. His usually calm face was grim and it was clear that something naggered at him. On passing out of the Defenderâ€™s, into the sunshine for the first time in almost nine days, Kerriann stood in his path. She towered over him, her arms across her chest. â€œLord Crispian, you have slighted Tatyanna,â€ she said, accusingly. â€œDonâ€™t call me lord,â€ he muttered and continued on, leaving the Paladin behind him. The gate warders nodded as he exited the east gate, a vague salute being returned. Darnyk was already at the horses. His friarâ€™s robes were in neat order and he radiated calm as always. â€œWhere to hunt, Crispy? Iâ€™d like to check out the Barrows again. I hear the Tomb Wights are being pesky,â€ he mentioned with a glint in his eye. â€œI donâ€™t care where,â€ Crispian pouted, â€œjust somewhere that I can kill something.â€ He swung up onto his horse and turned his back on Camelot. He could still hear the laughs of that mad bitch as she had been dragged away. Tears were in his eyes as he followed the friar out on to the road. The clear breeze of riding did little to ease the mire that filled Crispian. His thoughts, his feelings, his wants had not been his to master over this past week. He could not clear his head to think right. The joy of battle was gone; the peace of humility denied him. He found himself contentious with friends and short with allies. However, the worst of it all was how he found himself noticing things â€“ looking at them in a different light than before. Tannirâ€™s smile and grace of movement had become so difficult to bear. Ilyaâ€™s dark colorings, and his laugh. As he rode, he unstoppered a wineskin and drank deeply, pressing a hand to his eyes to clear such images. And the laugh cameâ€¦cackling through him. [mod] +300 rule. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Secaran handed him the tightly rolled scroll without a word. Ayslyn's gaze flicked between it and his friends serious face. He raised an eyebrow. "Bad news I take." Secaran offered the scroll again, not responding. Ayslyn sighed, heavily, and opened it. Slowly he read, his lips soon pressed in a thin line, then in an outright scowl. He checked the signature. All of his people were reliable, but the one who had sent this was among his most reliable. This was no mere flight of fancy. He crumpled the paper in his fist. "Another good soul lost in the dark. Someone needs to show him back to the light." -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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midynn Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	more! more! -----signature-----
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{old}Alyzabeth Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	(ooc) hrmm.... -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn watched the parapets from his perch high in one of the trees. The moon rose full and bright. Not the best night for this sort of thing, but he couldn't be too picky. Some time just after midnight he saw the signal. Someone with a Bullseye lantern was scanning the area around the castle. Suddenly the beam of light was shuttered twice in quick succession, then a moment later three more times. To anyone not looking for a signal, it would seem that the wind had caused the wick to flutter. With a grin, Ayslyn dropped out of the tree, swinging from branch to branch until he reached the ground. He dashed from tree to tree, shadow to shadow, as he approached the wall. For a moment he had to wait, pressed against a large oak, while two sentries passed him in their patrol. Soon enough though, the wall stood before him. Castle Sauvage, Gateway to the lands of Albion. Slinging his bow over his shoulder, he scampered up the wall with all the speed of a manic squirell. As he crested the parapet, he came face to face with a highlander. They stood there, regarding each other for several moments until Ayslyn grinned. "Asten," he said as he haunched down on the parapet. "Ayslyn," the highlander replied with a smile. "Ah gotcher message. Tis more then a li'l risky mehtin laik this." Ayslyn nodded, "I know. But I had to confirm your report." Asten frowned and nodded. "Aye, Ah though tha may be why ye came. Tis true ah fear. Lair Crispian has fallen into ah mighty bleak spell. He stays fer days in his rooms. Oft thar is a terrible racket comin from em. His temper is hair short, and tis said tha he seeks comfort in tha bottom o' an ale cask." Ayslyn scowled as he absorbed all this. "And all this came about since the D'vena woman was deposed?" "Aye. Ah do nae know what she did to tha lad, but et has messed him up somethin fierce." Ayslyn nodded slowly. "I'm sure it did. Was it known whether she dabbled in magic or not?" Asten frowned. "Thar be a hunerd rumours abut that wench, each more fantastic then tha last." "I thought as much. Oh well. Something must be done for the lad. I can't stay any longer tongiht. It would be bad for both of us if we were seen together. I shall be back though." Ayslyn stood as Asten nodded and looked about. They were, thankfully, still alone on the wall. By the time he turned back, Ayslyn was gone. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Battered, the duo emerged from the Barrows. The tall friar clad in an enchanted leather jerkin scowled. "It's mauve," he said, plucking at the front. "We should go to Camelot so I can buy dyes, but after I have changed into my old robe. So no one sees me." Crispian, doffing the barrel helm Ronal had given him, scowled. "I hate it when they enamel these grey." He slung the barrel-helm from his shield as he started to walk off, a skin of wine already filling his hands. Darnyk hid the grave look he gave his friend as he followed. He keenly took in everything Crispian had said or done these last hours during their hunt. Other than a taciturness more than normal, he seemed recovered. The trip across the plains to West Downs was short, and horse from there to the City shortened the trip more. (Comment - writing in horse routes where I want them!) They passed through the east gate and Darnyk made directly for the tailors' shop. Crispian moved as in a daze, avoiding the Defender's Guild completely. His steps wandered through the city, until he found himself deep in the Shadowed area. A run down tavern spilled light into the street, but even that was muted, diffused. He stumbled in, greeted by the reek of ale, sweat, and stale smoke. Two gold coins dropped on the counter. "A room," he said quietly to the innkeep, a saracen with a bad scar and worse teeth. A sneer spread on the small eastern's face as he pocketed the coins. "Take your pick," the man said, nodding up the hallway. "The rooms are the same, but the choices aren't," he completed with a wicked chuckle. Resignedly, Crispian mounted the stairs, which creaked under his weight. He walked the narrow, dim hallway, peering into the chambers to either side. After some hestation, he selected one -- a run down room with a cot, a stand on the side with pitcher and basin. Lounging on the cot, clad in a thin shift, was a lean youth, muscled from work and blank of expression. With a bleak expression, Crispian allowed the lad to start to undo the straps of his armor. A look of haunted pain settled in place on his face. And below the castle, in deepest dungeon, a laugh erupted that echoed an insane joy and amusement. It echoed in the darkness, filling the void with its mad volume, and ripping through the mind of a young warrior-lad. "Appetitio depravatio amatorius," she intoned, her voice a broken, dried croaking. Making the sounds pained her, but the cost she felt was worth it. "My hate drives my revenge, little boy! I hurl my rage at thee, for hate-sake alone!" she barked as she pictured him, as he had come to her those two nights. To aid that bastard Carrington and the pig-farmer! Let what he used to decieve her be HER revenge! "Appetitio depravatio amatorius. Inversio aeternum expers incantamentum," she gasped in a pained voice, setting her revenge beyond the casting, exacting a price that could be lessened, but never fully paid. And delight coursed through her. The first joy she had known in weeks. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian woke in the dark of the night. Something was wrong. The boy at his side slept deeply, almost unnaturaly so. Suddenly, he realized his wrists and ankles were bound. "I apologize about the ropes," a voice said wryly. Someone lit the candle on the table. A tall elf sat calmly in the single rickety chair, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "The young Crispian that everyone knows and loves might have calmy chatted with an unarmed elf," he gestured toward the unstrung bow and pair of dirks that lay across the room from him, "But I couldn't be sure that this one would." He grinned. "Who are you?" The elf grinned again. Scetching a quick bow from his seat, "Ayslyn Greenwillow, one of Rhiannon's Chosen, and a champion of justice," he chuckled, "Sounds pretenious doesn't it. Oh well, can't be helped. You are Crispian Pontiff, Senechal of the West, and leader of the ST. Crispin's League. You are brother to Jashen, Lord to Tannir, Friend to Arguyle, Moryan, and countless others. You are a young lad who has lately shown some very disturbing changes of character. While a touch too serious, you were always jovial, and fiarminded. A lad that many of the Defenders looked up to. Recently however, following the capture of the Lady D'vena, you have fallen into a rather heavy funk. You have acquired a rather nasty temper, and your tastes in companions seems to have turned from pretty young lasses toward strapping young lads like him," he nodded toward the boy. Crispian felt his face grow hot. "Oh, wipe that look off your face boy," Ayslyn snapped, "There is nothing wrong with it. It is only wrong when one or the other is forced into it. And you needn't worry about the lad waking up while we are talking. He'll sleep quite soundly for some time. Though I wager his head will feel like a swollen melon when he wakes. I didn't have time to prepare anything gentler. Brew this into a tea and have him drink it. It will help." He tossed a small pouch onto the bed. "So! Here I am to help. Let's talk." Ayslyn looked at Crispian expectantly. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian swallowed heavily. Eyes closed tightly for a moment as his body tensed and he sat up, wrapping a portion of blanket around his waist in modesty. His head tipped downward, hands dangling between his knees. "You could have just killed me. What can you know of D'Vena?" He looked up at Ayslyn, who raised an eyebrow at him, graceful arching of it in almost humor. "Or all the rest? Elves and all of Hibernia split from Albion when Arthur King died." He stared at the elf, resting so casually across from him, almost close enough to strike. Ayslyn looked utterly unplussed in the least. "Wise people keep many eyes in many places, as you should sure know," the elf said with a hint of humor. The coloring of Crispian's cheeks confirmed his suspicion. "Well, yes," Crispian said, feeling stupid at the simplicity of the statement. "Since D'Vena, things have changed," he paused gauging the reaction of the elf, and looking for the wine jug he had set near the bed. It rested beside Ayslyn, who just quirked an eyebrow again and shook his head. "It's the darkness that's the worst," Crispian said quietly, voice low in the darkened chamber. "When it comes, it is so compelling, so," his voice broke, "hard to fight." Jaw clenched and chin trembled. "It's like a calling, then an urging, a demand," he paused, tears welling and then rolling from his eyes. Ayslyn sighed softly, fearing the depth of this latest working of D'Vena's, and the wounds it opened, or deepened. No longer able to even look at the elf, Crispian let his eyes roam the faded, grey-wood walls. "I have no...no focus...no reason anymore. I just go, from place to place or mood to mood. And I ache, and hurt." He snapped eyes onto the Elf, Ayslyn, and his grey eyes smoldered. "And I crave...things. And I hate, more than ever before." Chest heaving deeply as his breathing deepened, Crispian's face twisted into a snarl. "And what can Ayslyn Greenwillow, one of Rhiannon's Chosen, and a champion of justice," he spat the last title out, "do about this? or this?" he indicated the sleeping lad with a fierce jerk of his chin. He snorted derisively, "Or are you part of the cause? I've heard tales, about people like Brianen and what Hiberian can do." He almost continued, but the look from Ayslyn stopped him cold in mid-sentence. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	"My intentions here are to save a good soul," he glared at the young man. "It is why Rhiannon brought me here. It is why I can not rest." His hand flitted to his chest. Even through the armour he wore, he could feel the ring. He decided to switch tacks. "And I know more than a little about darkness. How old do you think I am?" Crispian looked confused. "I know little of elves." Ayslyn grinned. "Modesty. Maybe they were right. Guess then." Crispian picked a number. "200" He knew that elves were long lived. Ayslyn arched an eyebrow. "Were I anyone else, you would be right. I am, all told, over 1000 years old," he held up a hand to forestall Crispian, "Oh this body is only 200. I was originaly born in a land VERY far away from here. I lived there, grew old, and died. And for the work that I did there, fighting the evil that walked that land, I was," he paused, "rewarded by Rhiannon with a special honour. I was sent here, reborn in this form, to continue my fight," he closed his eyes a moment and sighed, "In the land I came from, I was, as a young man, a rake, more than a bit of a scoundrel at heart. Law mattered little to me, so long as good prevailed. I knew more than my share of women, flitting from one to another like a butterfly in a field of flowers. Until I met Esme. She was beautiful and kind, witty and funny, and against all odds, in love with me. Though she wouldn't admit it. It took me a long time to convince her that I had changed my ways, and would remain loyal to her," he shook his head sadly, wrenching himself from his memories. "Anyway. Here there are but three dragons. Where I came from there were scores. I made a name for myself hunting the most evil of them. I and my friends were quite good at it. It's a lucrative occupation as well," he grinned, "We built a city in the heart of a massive forest. Esme and I were married. Everything was perfect for a time. Unfortuately, the rest of the dragons took our hunting them amiss and struck back," his eyes closed in pain as he remembered that day, "They attacked the city. Esme helped to defend the walls. We drove them back, but she was killed. Turned to ash in a breath of primordial flame. After that, I went mad. I went on a killing spree. Nothing remotely draconic was safe from my wrath." "Rhiannon forgive me, I enjoyed it." he moaned, almost too low to hear. "The only thing that brought me back were my friends, and my children. They helped to restore me. That is the help that I offer to you. You must learn to live with the rage, and there is no crime in that," he waved at the boy, "unless it is not your choice. Which in this case, it isn't," he hold up a stone, thick as Crispian's thumb and perfectly spherical, polished to a smooth sheen. He tossed it to Crispian, who caught it. Despite the warmth of the night, the stone pulsed with cold. "A gift from a friend of mine. You are under an enchantment. Find a cure, with your friends, or learn to live with it, again with their help. Those are your choices. Either way, Esme and Rhiannon both think you are worth saving, and I agree with them. Should you need my help again, I shall return. Just remember, there are dark forces in the world, and those of us aligned with the light need all the help we can get." He rose, and lay a thin bladed knife at the edge of the bed. "I'ld release you myself, but I fear that D'vena's curse might make things complicated," he hefted the jug of wine, "And you'll find no truths in the bottom of this." He placed it on the table along with a ring. "If you wear this, my people will know that you are looking for me. Good luck lad. You are in for a rocky road, but the destination is more than worth it." He slipped out of the room and into the night. ******* Later that night, a number of letters arrived at the same time, each sealed with green wax, stamped with a willow. Arguyle, Moryan, Jashen and others broke the seals and read Young Crispian needs you. -A Friend. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Grabbing the knife, Cirispian sawed at the bonds, freeing himself. Naked, he spread toward hallway, looking for a sign of the elf, but there was none. He was just gone. Crispian sat and stared at the stone for some time. The cool weight in his hand was comforting, but disturbing. The elf's, Ayslyn's, gift was yet another oddity, a quirk of this event, this passage. He pondered the gift, then slipped it over his head to hang against his chest. He considered the wine jug, and the sleeping lad. With a sigh, he settled back onto the cot, curling into the warmth of his chest, and slept. Deep under the castle, the laugher awoke. The sapping power she had been feeding on was less. She hissed at the treachery of it, but still felt something from the tendrils that remained. With a twisted smile on her lips, she drifted to sleep. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Awaking to the pale sunlight that penetrated into the run-down district of Shadows, Crispian pulled on his trews and tunic and made his way down to the innkeep. "I need hot water brought up to the room," he said, avoiding looking at the leering face of the small, scarred man. "And I'll be leaving shortly, so hurry on that," he said harshly as he went back up to the room. The lad slumbered on, and Crispian wrote a short note on a parchment scrap. "Drink the tea to help with your hang over. Pack and leave. Tannir at the Defender's guild will set you lodging there if you give him this token." He slid his seal ring off and laid on the side board, with a pouch of coins, heavy with gold. "Settle your debt with the keeper here. I shall return to Camelot soon." He donned his armor and left, stopping to collect his cloak, sword and helm before leaving for Cornwall. His head was clear of the defuddlement, but still his thoughts were not fully in order, and his rage was unchecked. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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{old}Kerriann Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Kerriann stood quietly in Cornwall as she watched Crispian straighten his shield on his arm. She sighed as he walked toward her direction with a sadness in his eyes. "M'lord" Kerriann smiled as she sat on the steps into Cornwall Station. The ground still damp of morning dew. "Kerriann, might I ask why it is you are here?" he asked with a strangeness in his voice. "I am here to see you M'lord, as well as my young sister Tatyanna, to check on your welbeing. I assume from your expressions you still are in deepest thought?" She asked as she made room for Tatyanna on the steps. "I am Lady Kerriann. I still am, at this time, working the past days events in my head trying to make some sense of it all as well as to use it to my best advantage." Crispian said as he smiled at Tatyanna. "M'lord, if I can do anything, please ask. We are, are we not, your family?" Tatyanna smiled are stood to straighten her Darkness Falls Hauberk. Crispian sighs with a slight grin across his face. "Yes Taty." he says quietly. "Go meet with Lord Darnyk for hunting of the evils that consume Albion M'lord. Tatyanna will assist you, I must now ride to the distance Castle Savauge where I shall meet friends to remove the filth camping our frontier keep." Kerriann waves as she rides down the hill enroute to Savauge. Deep in her throughts, she forgot to jump at the Avalon Marsh Station and instead finds herself at Caer Ulfwyc. While there, Lords Asotrem and Kromly are preparing for Cornwall. "M'lords, we are in need of help at Castle Savauge, if you are coming please alert Lord Verberg as he is leading the C.S. Defense." Kerriann, pretending she had come for them, mounts the horse toward Cornwall to then backtrack to Savauge. "I will alert Lord Senig as well as the others as to whats happening Lady Kerriann!" Asotrem yells as she gallops away on horseback. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The young lad awoke, his head pounding mercilessly. He winced in the wan morning light and rolled over. The other half of the cot was cool to the touch and he frowned. He THOUGHT the warrior-lad had enjoyed himself. Slowly, with many a grimace, he climbed out of the cot and noticed the scrap of paper. Squinting at it, he read the message and look at the ring. It was heavy, of gold, and clearly a signet. He had not noticed THAT last night. He drank some tea and looked at the pouch. Slowly, he worked the ties open. Inside, gleamed gold. He sat heavily on the cot. In the two years he had been in Camelot, spending most of them here at the Mermaid Inn, never had anyone done anything like THIS. The purse contained more gold than he had ever dreamed of, and enough to buy him out of this place. Reclining, he considered the offer. A handsome sum of gold. Quartering somewhere other than this flea-bitten hovel. A chance to break free, to pursue his dreams and wishes. The ring rolled on his finger, and his thoughts strayed to the blond warrior of last night. Considering the people who came here, he had been exceptional. Quiet, kind, gentle, certainly handsome, if boyish. With a lazy grin, Tobyas indulged his recollection fully, running the course of events over in his mind, slowly. When he had finished, he cleaned himself and the chamber up, sliding the ring into his boot top and went down the stairs. The room was crowded already, with the besotten and dregs of town. He walked to the bar, and set the pouch down, lighter by a few coins. "Take this," he said to the innkeep, whose wide, scarred grin he would never endure again, "and I am free. Five year contract paid in full and then some." "Yer fadder owt me fifty crown gold, boy," the innkeep managed around a mouth of bad teeth and stale mutton. His permanent sneer failed, though, as he looked into the purse, and the gold within. "Wad ye do, boy? Kill't your tumble last night, didja?" Tobyas drew himself up straight and tall. "Never speak to me again, sirrah, and pray I see you not on the street!" he snapped and turned heel, leaving. The wretched stink of the street, used as a sewer by the miserable who dwelt about, greeted him. Stepping cautiously about, he made his way out of the district, passed the Guild of Shadows complex. Eating sweet-nuts he made his way around town, buying some fine leather armor to look more proper and even dunking his head in a fountain. It was late morning when he entered the Defender's guild, asking about Tannir. He made way up the stairs and found the one who fit what he had been told. With a slight bow, he greeted him. "You are Tannir? I am Tobyas. I was told to give you this," he handed over Crispian's signet, "and that you would see to lodgings for me?" Tannir eyed the ring suspicously, knowing Crispian had never taken it off in his presences. "Where did ye come by that?" he asked as his fist closed meaningfully on the hilt of his sword, sliding it free a few inches. "What have ye done with Lord Crispian?" His eyes hardened with killing rage. "Easy, Tannir," Tobyas spread his hands wide in front of him, smiling as he offered the parchment scrap. "Your Lord will come by no harm from me, I pledge it." Tannir snatched the paper off-handed and read it quickly. "I can see to my lord's wishes of lodgings for ye," he ventured cautiously. Tobyas's smile widened. "My thanks. Are you - ah - special to Lord Crispian?" His heart was racing, pounding in his temples. Tannir was cute, he admitted to himself. "No more so that another of the League. I am his Squire here in town, and he my Liege." Tannir said rather formally, noticing the blush on this newcomer. "Let me get you that room," he said as he turned away from Tobyas, wondering what circumstances had been in his meeting Crispian, and not wanting to know. Tobyas followed Tannir to the small room selected and eased himself down onto a fresh, clean cot. "My thanks," he said, both to Tannir, and the strange young LORD (he grinned) who had helped him so. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi stood quietly in the stable of Cornwall Station, just out of sight of her guild sisters, Tatyanna and Kerriann. She brushed a strand of golden blond hair from her face, smoothed her robes in nervous habit, and stepped back into the shadows. Normally she would have happily rushed to hug her dear new friends, but she thought the better of it as a large armored man strode up to the two. Azi glanced at the shield on his arm and the gleaming armor and knew instantly it must be Crispian. Although she hadn't yet been formally introduced to him in person, she had heard her sisters talk in hushed tones of his recent plight. Azi thought it best to stand in the shadows of the stable and not make her presence known at this time. Their exchange was too quiet to hear, but seemed pleasant enough. Azi blushed at the thought of eavesdropping anyway. She always seemed to find herself in the most awkward situations. Just this morning she was making her way to the Academy to study when she caught a glimpse of Crispian, although she hadn't known it was him at the time, leaving one of those filthy taverns. Azi had smiled at him in passing and lowered her eyes shyly, wondering what such a strapping warrior would have been doing in a place like that anyway.. She wouldn't have even passed through that way normally, but she had been bullied too many times on her normal route by former classmates, and had been planning to enter the library early this morning through a less conspicuous door. Shifting her weight and lifting her robes away from the manure, Azi thought back to later that morning. She was pleased with herself having finally mastered her latest Liquification. With her head lowered she mouthed the incantation while making her way out of the city. A handsome young lad passed her, leaving the same tavern in seemingly high spirits. He turned into the street before her and turned into a shop. Azi made a few stops along the way, and later saw the same lad enter the Defender's guild as she passed on her way out of the city. Azi had spent the ride to Cornwall Station wondering what on earth was going on between that filthy tavern and the Defender's guild..and standing only a few yards away was the man who could answer her quandry. "Blast my shyness, and politeness," she muttered under her breath. Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming her way, and Kerriann's voice booming "...filth camping our frontier keep." Azi's heart pounded as she ducked behind a horse. She saw Kerrian's large armored feet clump past toward the stable hand. Azi held her breath as Kerriann threw herself up on to the horse and rode away, and released it slowly as she stepped gingerly around a fresh steaming mound of dung. She lowered her robes and headed down the road away from the Station, leaving Tatyanna behind her. Thinking of the fun she'd have with the young skeletal centurions and her latest icy blast, she cleared her mind of matters she was too young to be involved with. (OOC aside- I hope you don't mind, Crispian, but your story is so compelling I've been thinking about it since I read it yesterday. I thought this would be a good way to introduce Azi to the boards as well as bump the post and ask for more!) -----signature-----
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{old}Alyzabeth Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Moryan had alot on her mind. When didn't she these days? She was on her way to Cornwall to speak to Lynx about refitting her new epic armor. Some dumbarse had slapped it together haphazardly, and it was too bloody tight in the hauberk, she could barely breathe sometimes when she swung her left hand. "Bloody idjits," she swore under her breath. And then there was this matter with Crispian. After exchanging some letters, she'd come to find out he was under some sort of enchantment or some such rot. What the fark did a mercenary wench know about things like that? She told him he ought to seek out Dru. If anyone could find a cure, it would be her. After all, she got Earthwulf to refuse drink, and Excelsius to speak in rhyme. Word has it she was trying to find a way to make people not swear anymore. Again, she reminded herself to keep on Dru's good side. She arrived in Cornwall, and was surprised to find Crispian lingering there. With a hearty welcome, she greeted the young armsman. Poor lad was nervous and uncomfortable, and tugged her into the stable to talk. It was there that she found out the extent of his... problems. Pointing to Pethos nearby, Crispian said something about him being a strapping young lad. Moryan chuckled and agreed, then realized just what he was implying. With a groan, Moryan asked the young man if he'd followed through on these ... urges. With a look of pure embarrassement, young Crispian nodded. Sighing to herself, Moryan tried to tell the lad that he should at least bloody fight the urges, before he started enjoying it naturally! It was about then that Lynx and Arionne strolled up. With a wicked grin and a mirth that she couldn't surpress, Moryan leaned over and whispered to Crispian, "Lynx is rather handsome eh?" Blushing furiously, Crispian could only nod his agreement. Ah, as much as she wanted to help her friend, Moryan could not resist the evil temptation to tease him. Later, he begged to know if she'd told Lynx everything, and she humbly replied, nae. Of course she hadn't told him everything. Only she had warned Lynx to not be bending over anywhere near Crispian. The conversation was later drown in more pressing matters arose in the life of the mercenary wench, as she promised her life and her love to Glavian. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	(OOC - Azi, WHY would I mind??)) Crispian awoke at Castle Sauvage. He had spent the remainder of the day yesterday, after speaking to Moryan, trying to distract himself with labors and hunts, and with mix results. Graid had requested a dozen iron ram beaks, and a hours had been spent crafting them. The red hot glow of the iron held none of the joy it had before. Used to be such a romantic idea to turn poor molten metals into a fine weapon, or to encase wood in metal for a fine shield. Now, it was just sweaty, hot, back-breaking work. Ideas of hunting were equally hard to focus on. He had wandered toward Lyonesse, stopping for a pint, and JUST a pint, at the Yardley farm. But battling the giants that marauded the borders of Cornwall and Lyonesse too was unrewarding. It was not until late, when he heard of Migard scum in Forest Sauvage that he had set forth. Fast horse to Abribard's and thence onto the Castle Sauvage. His first effort out was met with defeat, as a norseman fell him. Shakily recovering from the sickness brought on by resurrection, he ventured forth again. At Castle Sauvage, he met Cheyenne, Rekhir and another Red Lion. Just the sight of those cloaks brought a snarl to his throat that he bit back. "Room for a farm-boy with a sword?" he managed to get out, casually enough. Cheyenne, a lean, curvy woman and follower of the church smiled in agreement. Yet still, Crispian considered her much less so than Rakhir, and was glad for the heavy barrel helm he had gotten recently. With little effort, thanks to Blori who smashes, the Midgardians were sent to their heathen rewards. Crispian felt some joy at that, standing over the corpses of the foes, bloodied sword in hand, but it was a grim joy. Finally, he stumbled to a corner, rolled into his cloak and slept. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Sore and stiff from sleeping against the wall, Crispian woke. His head did not ache from ale, thank the maker. That little Elf's charm was doing some good. Paying some silver to the stableman, he mounted up and rode hard for Camelot, arriving just to see Arguyle MacFadden stalking with a purpose into the stables. Swinging down from his own horse, the grabbed the highlander's elbow, spinning him so they faced each other. A mask of fury and rage contorted Crispian's sneering smile. "And just where have YOU been hiding?" he hissed at the general. Black rage welled up in him at the mere sight of his commoner-turned-lord. His right hand clasped his sword hilt tightly. ------- In the dungeon, eyes sprang open in the dim cell. "Yessss," the voice hissed out, "do it! Ease your pains!" And the insane laughter erupted again. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Slipping back into the city, Tobyas made his way to the Defender's building and those rooms let to the League. Tannir was not on guard as normal. He slipped into his chamber and settled on the cot, thinking of a young Lord far to the south. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas napped fitfully for some time, passing the early evening in his own dreams. Waking to pressure from his bladder, he slipped out into the hallway headed for the gard-de-robe when he saw Crispian ducking into a chamber, Tannir close in tow and BOTH looking a bit nervous. He tended to his pressing business and pause by the chamber door, listening, then easing it open. Crispian was stripped to just trews and Tannir was trying to tighten down a strap on a greave. "This is no good! This stinking plate will never fit." "Yes, it will Sir Jashen!" Tannir hissed, tugging at the strap again. "Your just muscled differently a bit!" Tobyas eased the door close. Jashen? Who was Jashen? It LOOKED like Crispian. Collecting his cloak, he moved down the stairs and out, seeking a tavern he had passed this morning, Ye Mug. It had looked nice enough and better than the Mermaid. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tannir finished adjusting the tunic, having given up on armor. It would have to be hoped that the clothing was fancy enough to pass for Lord Crispian's. Stepping back, he surveyed his efforts. "This might just work, but..something wrong." The mercenary, picking at the foppery, looked up. "I look like a popin' jay idiot is what's wrong. Crispian has the stomach for this not me," Jashen complained, tugging at the collar of the tunic. "And worse than the blasted plate!" "His ring!" Tannir yelped. "You're missing his ring." He rummaged about in the chest, finding an old, silverish ring with a willow design on it. "This will do, just don't let anyone look to closely at it." And Jashen slid it on his finger, turning the design in, without a thought. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The trial was over and sentence passed. Crispian partook of some ale and left Castle Sauvage, feeling oddly wounded. And there he stood. Arguyle MacFadden. Highlander, Lord General of the Red Lions. Out of reflex, Crispian salute. The gruff old highlander returned it, a smile on his face. "Hail Sir Crispain!" he said, burr undercutting the words. "General," Crispian said with a brisk nod of his head. He motioned the highlander to step outside the gates of the keep where fewer people would hear them. "Well, if you insist," Arguyle said, watching the lad closely. There was a strange air about him, very un-Crispian. "Long time since I have seen you last," Crispian said, turning away as they walked. Recalling his time spent in Snowdonia, Arguyle smiled lazily. "Aye, I have been on Sabbitical in Snowdonia." "I trust Snowdonia treated you well?" Crispian almost snapped, bile rising in his throat. "It was rather - helpful," Arguyle said with an almost sly grin. "Indeed?" Crispian asked archly. "Well, things have been - different- down here." "How so?" Arguyle ventured cautiously. Gritting his teeth, for the very aceent of the man seemed to hurt, Crispian replied through clenched jaw, "The D'Vena matter seems unfinished." Gravely Arguyle nodded, thinking he saw now what bothered this earnest young warrior. An incomplete task could eat at a heart like his. "As long as the wench lives, it is not finished," he said gravely. "Indeed not, Lord General," Crispian said lowly, "and I tell you this, highlander. You have work to finish with her." The chattering laughter at the edge of his mind was pushing inward. Crispian's face contorted into a sneer. Concerned, Arguyle put forth his hand, resting on the shorter lad's shoulder. "Me? What work do I have with her lad?" Crispian grabbed his head in his hands as the laughter roared louder, then looked at Argulye, eyes filled with anguish. "She feels your affairs are not compelete with her." Arguyle's face was grave. "I have no affairs with that witch other than to light the torch that shall burn her." He watched Crispian closel as he burst out in mad laughter. "SHE feels otherwise towards YOU!" he bellowed around laughter. "How do you know so much about what she feels lad?" Arguyle said, moving toward Crispian. Concern was foremost in his mind but his eyes flicked to the dirk in his boot. "I" he gasped, pain wracking him, "I - I must leave you now, Arguyle," he gasped around tears and turning fled to a horse, riding with speed south. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas surveyed the room at Ye Mug for some minutes, nursing a tankard of ale. This was not the place he wanted to be, was not somewhere that he could feel at ease with al the he knew from the past day. He sipped and thought. And thought some more. A young Lord, a Knight. More than he had hoped for ever. Well, at least since his youth, and the fields of his home. But those days, and that boy, were beyond him now, forever. But this new man... It gave pause for thought. After a while, and a tankard, Tobyas wandered out and into the streets of Camelot, letting his feet take him where they may. The city was alive for him as it had not been before. The sights, the smells, the people - no longer were these the inflicters of a misery he must live with. Now, they were the life of the city, the very fiber of the world that surrounded him. And all this from one single act of kindness. At length, he found himself in the great cathederal of the city. The saints of the realm depicting in fine stained glass, the glory of the Almighty shown in work after work. He gazed about at the works, taking them in. The splendor of it all was more than his mind and heart could absorb. "My child, what troubles thee?" a quiet voice sounded behind him. He turned, seeing a kindly face turned toward him. A elder woman, of fine bearing he noted, stood in simple whimple and habit. Her blue eyes peered almost through him. "Sister," he said quietly, in awe of the place and her serenity, "I am troubled with the world, but wondering at the might of the Almighty, and the majesty," he said, feeling odd to be in so holy a place after the life he had but recently led. "What troubles thee, my son?" she asked, sympathy and understanding so evident that it made Tobyas's heart ache. "I have found - a love, but one of which the law," he paused, his voice dropping off, "nor the church would approve of." He felt an unaccomstomed flush spreading over his cheeks. "And in a qunadry I am, sister." "My son, if such are your problems, surely the Almighty," she said, making a holy sign on her breast, "may give ye answer, as he did me." Her smile was of one who had found a course and meaning in life that met the needs of all manners of her person. "Perhaps," Tobyas allowed. "Yet, I know the station of this other is higher than mine, and the means of their life greater than I could aspire to." "But the Almighty," she said, again making the sign but not impiously, "can provide ye with guidance and a course, my son." "If it can be so," Tobyas said, a spontaneous urge coming over him, "then let me seek it out!" She smiled, offering him a hand, and led him into the chapter house of the catherdal. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn sat back in his chair, brooding. The crystal on the table next to him was now dark, but moments ago it had flared with light. The charm that he had given Crispian, activated by the power of the curse, had sent an image of everything that had happened. "Arguyle," he mused. He nodded slowly. "Yes. It makes sense. Through the lad, she means to get revenge on those responsible for her fall." Secaran sat on the stairs opposite him, and Luaiel lounged against one wall. "Watchu gunna do now Ays?" Luaiel rummbled. Ayslyn didn't answer. He just sat there, tapping his chin with a single, slender finger. "Indeed," he wondered aloud. He took up the lapdesk that sat next to his chair and began to write a letter. Penning the words quickly, in his neat, precise hand, he folded the note and lit a candle. Using the candle to melt some green wax onto the fold, he pressed his willow marked ring into the seal. He held it out to Secaran. "Get this to Arguyle." The next day, Arguyle Macfadden found a letter sitting on his desk. Breaking the green sealing wax with his thumb, he opened it and read. Lord General. You seem to be the focus of the trouble that young Crispian faces. D'vena is not finished with any of you. Take care around the lad and do not blame him for his actions. Help him as he has helped you in the past. A Friend. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Awaking with a head that pounded wrse than the war-drums of Migard, Crispian rolled off the cot and vomited loudly into the chamber pot. Grabbing a ewer of water, he drank, rinsing his mouth and spat, placing the chamber pot cover back on. Gingerly, he climbed back onto the small cot in Cornwall station and rolled to face the wall. The light slapping of hands brought him back around a short time later. He rolled over and squinted into the semi-darkness of the room. There was a figure leaning against the wall. Slowly, Crispian reached for his blade as the person continued to clap softly. "What will you do next cousin? Drink until you can vomit on horseback?" Lynis said, turning the wick up on the oil lamp shieled behind his back. Lynis, Brother Lynis now, Crispian reminded himself, looked well for his travels, as much as Crispian could tell. "whaduwant," Crispian muttered, the pain stabbng behind his eyes like a pygmy goblin's thrust. "comebacklader," he croaked again, throat rebelling against even that effort. He closed his eyes, hoping Lynis would just go. "Well, before I leave you to your complete dyfilement, cousin, I bring you some news. First, here is the roll of membership additions. Tannir insisted I bring it. And word has it Carrrington Whitethorne is back in Albion." The meticulous friar set the scroll neatly atop the heap of Crispian's discarded clothing, now all folded and neat he noticed. "Carrington?" Cris squinted up. "What's he doing back?" he gasped, levering himself off the bed and snatching the scroll up. His head pounded from ale and cheap wine- gods, what a thing to drink he had, but this word of Carrington chilled him. With a languid shrug, Lynis continued, "I know not, Lord Seneschal. Oh, and Glavian has word for you to - clean your life up." He smiled, "I thought you would like to hear that one." Crispian looked at Lynis sharply, and regretted moving his head so quickly. He looked back at the list, to give him something to do, and finally scribbld his name at the bottom. Four new additions was good for the League. Yoji Throdian Jethinz Tobyas "Get me some water, would ye Lynis, and arrange for a horse. I think I need to go to Castle Sauvage and talk to someone," Crispian said quietly. "This Carrington should not be about in the Realm." The hangover pain was slowly subsiding, as a hint of laughter flowed up and into Crispian's mind. As the door closed behind Lynis, Crispian stood and pulled on a gambeson. Lacing the ties up, he smirked, "No, the Lady does not want this Carrington about!" His fingers froze on the ties and he grabbed for the crystal on the stand - he KNEW he had not removed it! - and shaking it pulled it over his head. As the sphere touched his bare chest, he cried out and collapsed, lying whimpering on the floor until Lynis found him some minutes later. "Don't," he said weakly, "don' laugh anymore." As Lynis held him, Crispian wept. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Arguyle_MacFadden Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arguyle watched Crispian as he ran off and mounted a horse. Something was very odd about the lad. He did not remember him being some jumpy and so distracted all the time. As Crispian rode off Arguyle thought to himself, "What have you done now D'Vena?" With a firm and steadfast resolution Arguyle MacFadden committed himself to putting an end to D'Vena once and for all. He would see her burned at the stake for her witchery. He would also see Crispian act like himself again. With that he turned and strode into Castle Sauvage to purchase his writ of passage to Hibernia. As he turned toward the Mage Circle he saw his friend Glavian and he called out to him, "Hail Glavian! How are you old friend?" -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas knelt before Lady Winchell. His coppery hair gleamed in the light as she sworn the tonsure of an acolyte into the top of it. He had been examined by the Master of Acolytes most of the evening and had proved his knowledge well enough to enter into the service of the church. Perhaps this was his answer, devotion to the Almighty. Following his sacring, he wandered out to Cotswold and met three fellows about to set out and battle the evil that filled the land. He journeyed with them, seeing horrors that even made him quiver with some fear, but he learned much. The following day he received from Winchell the blessing and consecration of a cleric to the Church, and made his vows. This new life was shaping well for him, but still he thought often of the blond-haired knight who had fled south, from what he learned. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian pulled himself up short at the sight of her. Moryan Tanriel positively beamed. "You and Glavian must be very happy," he said quietly. The after-effects of last nights bout with ale still had him fuzzy and slightly unfocused. "Aye, I lo'e him vera much," she purred, a grin tugging at her lips. "You know Carrington is back?" he asked, controlling a wince against the sharp stab of pain that the name brought. "Aye, but 'e nae been seem about te realm yet, just courtin' it seem," came her offhanded response. "And?" Crispian asked archly. "I'm married to Glavian, an' vera in lo'e. Caer is not my worra anymore," she said firmly, the smile at the mention of Glavian's name barely fading. "You should worry about him. Because of him, D'Vena has marked you," Crispian said quietly, his voice cut with tension. Moryan snorted, tossing her head. "Te King should hang the wench. I spoke ta Dru about your problem," she offered, as reigns to a horse were handed to her by the stable boy. "Burn her," Crispian muttered as the mercenary wench rode off for Castle Sauvage and then Emain, to meet her beloved knight. As he watched her ride, Crispian was unsure if he meant D'Vena or Morayn should burn. A shudder passed through him as he paled. Turning on heel, he stumbled toward the tavern in Cotswold, coin purse already much lighter from last night but able to support a few more draughts. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen walked across the bridge under the midday sun. Cotswold was it's usual burr of activity. He nodded and smiled at some people he recognized. A journey out to Mithra's Tomb last eve had helped to clear his mind and ease some of his tension, but he still was worried about his brother. Pulling the door open to the tavern, it was easy to spot Crispian. Slumped against the wall in the back, his mail still gleaming and shined, a tankard clenched firmly in hand. His slid in across from his twin and lifted the tankard away. "Time to come home, Cris," he said quietly, watching the crowd mill about them. "Don't you think you've had enough?" Red-shot grey eyes, once matches to Jashen's own, opened. A wicked malice danced in them for a moment, then Crispian shook his head. "Whadya mean, Jashie? I ain't had near to enough," he belched the last couple of words. "Madder if fact, I'm gonna haf some more now, thank you." He started to signal the wench who made her way around when he noticed a ring on Jashen's finger. Willow...willow...something familiar. "Crispian Michael Pontiff," Jashen hissed, grabbing the upraised wrist of his brother, "you have had ENOUGH!" He held Crispian's arm, wondering when his brother had gotten so strong and tried to avoid a commotion. Crispian looked at the hand encasing his wrist. "Where'd you get that?" he asked, a sudden sobriety coloring his voice. "That ring. Where did you get that?" Jashen considered the ring for a moment. "Tannir asked me to wear it in case I ran into you." He released his grip and took the ring off, offering up to Crispian. "Mean something to you?" He snatched the ring from Jashen, a kind of greed-filled relief filling his eyes. Willow...ash...no..Ays...Ayslyn...ring...agents...know he needs... Stumbling, Crispian rose from his seat. "I haf to get to Emain. Need an elf," he muttered, swaying his way toward the door. His sword smacked a mercenary nursing a drink but Jashen stilled the man's reaction with a gold piece. "Crispian, you are in no shape to ride! Never mind fighting an elf." Jashen grabbed at Crispian, who just shook off his hand. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" he barked, causing heads to turn. "You're just a little brother!" He wheeled, continuing out. "It's not like your Auntie or someone. I don't need babysitting!" Staggering on, he continued to the stables and paid for his horse. Jashen stood mutely watching as his brother rode off, lurching in the saddle. A look of deep hurt was on his face as he saw the last glint of sunlight off burnished mail. He pivoted precisely on heel and headed for the Laughing Lion. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Sitting on the edge of the Salisbury Plains, a huge expanse Tobyas had never thought to explore. He had been battling here for nearly two days with a trio of guild mates from St. Crispin's League and had just accepted the offer of membership from Achou, a young cabalist. They had all drifted off to sleep following a long day of trying to check the encroachment of the brownie gossamers and grassrunners. The battle had been furious and at times deadly. Brother Lynis, a pious friar, had called Tobyas back to life more than once. "So, who is Crispian?" Tobyas had asked during a pause in the fighting. He sluiced water into his leather jerkin in an attempt to cool off some. "I had heard mention of him at the Defender's." Lynis, stretched out upon the grass, gazed up from his breviery. "Crispian is my cousin, and Seneschal to the League," he said in his quiet tenor. Tobyas had gown a little pale at that. "Senescal?" "Aye, he is the leader of the League, with Toorc, each taking East and West as responsilbities." "Oh," Tobyas had said quietly and let the matter drop. A Guild Leader, a knight, and apparently a drunkard. He felt more conflicted the more he learned of the man responsible for his freedom and change of life. Now, with the evening cool settling in, Tobyas sat, looking at the stars of Salisbury and pondered what to do next. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn sat on the branch of a tree, resting agianst the trunk. A squirrel, perched on his knees, was chittering at him excitedly. Ayslyn nodded at him periodically. "Of course. How terrible. Your tree?" He fought hard to conceal a grin. Talking with a squirrel was not unlike talking to an excited 4 year-old. It was hard to get a word in. He heard a something crashing through the underbrush. Looking down he saw Crispian dashing through the trees, and looking none to steady. He frowned in sympathy. What the boy was going through was not easy. He held up a hand to the squirrel. "I am sorry my friend. Something very important has just come up." He closed his fingers, making a fist and then opened it again. Wedged his fore and middle finger was a brazilnut. The squirrel chittered happily as Ayslyn handed it to him. "Go now, quickly. I shall find you again and you can finish." The squirrel scampered away. Crispian stopped underneath Ayslyn's perch to rest. He bent, hands on his knees, and breathed heavily. Ayslyn grinned mischeaviously. He took one of his waterskins out. He had just filled them from one of the streams in the mountains so it should still be cold. He opened the skin and upended it over the young armsman. Shock, as the cold stream of water struck him, almost drove Crispian to his knees. He shook water from his eyes and glared up into the tree. Ayslyn smiled innocently down at him. "I thought you might like something to help clear your head," he called down. "You should be careful. Your brother has been wearing my ring about town. Luckily some of my agents can tell you two apart." He grinned with amusement. "So. What can I do for you?" -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Shuddering from the chill water and still a bit groggy from the ale, Crispian shuddered as he glared up at the elf. All his training was needed to stay his hand from the hilt of his sword, for Hibernias had long been foes. "Y-you have to help me," he croaked, falling to his knees. "I can't keep fighting her." He lifted blood-shot eyes to the elf, tears running down his face. "This thing," he thrust the sphere forward, "is no match for her." -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Insane and insidious laughter floated on the air of the dungeon level. Already, seven other prisoners had been removed when they went insane from the constant noise. The two guards, ears stuffed with wool and ensorceled by magic to withstand it, stood before the cell. The once thin, now approaching emaciated, figure in the cell coward toward the far side. Whether from their presence or the light they bore none new. "Now dis here one, Eli, you need to keep an eye out fer. She's mad as a lurikeen and nastier than a troll set to a baff, you git me?" the old guardsman said around his two teeth. "Ye git too close and dis one here'll be yer brain, what littles you got of it." He snorted and spat into the cell. "Git down ye witch!" With malicious eyes, she watched them retreat to their safety. A ethereal barrier diffused them as they step through the door at the corridors end. "Pain and hurt," she whispered. "They all shall know pain and hurt!" She muttered to the wall for a short time and then her head snapped up. "What?? Elves? Hibernian magicks!" Her eyes showed all whites for several heartbeats. And then she laughed again, a low, merciless laugh. "Nay, brat-boy, ye'll not escape like that. Pretty, pretty boy to use a woman for the likes of Carrington. Should have stayed to the farm, pretty boy-o!" She spat thrice on the fall and made some swirls in the puddle of it. With a laugh, she smeared symbols on the wall over ones long-since drawn and faded. "Oh, no," was her quiet whisper as her fingers twitched and moved. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn smiled softly. "It wasn't meant to be. Not by itself at least. She's feeding off the darkness within you. The darkness that she planted. The sphere helps to close that off. With it, you have a chance. But the thing that will break you free is your own desire and the assistance of your friends. You talked to me of how you had lost your focus. Find it again." he dropped out of the tree and stood, nose to nose with Crispian. He poked the young man in the chest. "Look here for your answers boy. Hold tight to your pride, your sense of fairness. All the things that earned your friends hearts, and the respect of those you led. Those are the weapons and armour that will defeat D'vena. That is her weakness. They will help you to beat her. But," he paused. "If you truely want to break her," he reached into his packs and tossed something to Crispian. It was a bible, and a well read one. "I prefer the second half myself. Look to the advice your savior gives. It's good advice no matter which god you follow." He grinned at the confusion on Crispian's face. "Now if you will excuse me. There are other things that I must attend to." He leapt up, catching the branch above him, and swung up into the tree. Crispian tried to watch where he went, but he was lost in the foliage. Ayslyn leapt from branch to branch, not disturbing a leaf. He hated not telling the lad everything but he had more than a few suspicions about what the spell might intail. He thought that D'vena might be sensing some of what Crispian did, and that made it dangerous to let him know everything. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Staring into the tree at where the elf had lept but moments before, Crispian swore. "FARKIN' ELVES! DAMN TREE LOVER!" He stared around a few moments longer then look down at the Bible. A bible? he thought. He flipped idly through the pages. It was a beautiful work. The illuminations were truly artful. He squinted at one page. He stopped on Psalm 40. Quietly he read. "I waited patiently for the Lord; He turned and heard to me and heard my cry; He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand; He put a new song in my mouth..." He closed the book and tucked it into his pack, shaking his head. "Farkin' Elf," and turned back toward the Albion frontier keep. The dappled sun was warm, it seemed. Grinning, barrel helm tied to his belt, Crispian walked back toward home and a battle yet fought -- for his own soul it seemed. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas knelt in the church, head bowed in prayer. He clutched his scriptures tight as he prayed. He sough guidance, but none came. There was no great calming, no feeling of awe with the Almighty. Finally, he stood and walked from the building, bowing to the night sacristin as he passed through the postern door. The great Chapter house loomed large against the night sky as he walked into the night. He wandering steps carried him through Camelot, through parts of the city he had never dared to approach when he was just a tavern-boy. The life of the city was so different from a Cleric of the Church. He almost wanted to laugh, but could not make it happen. He paused at the edge of a square where a commotion was raised, but slipped off before he could be noticed or called into service. What could any involved in that do for a young man in love with the unattainable? THEY were probably all caught up in realm-shaking politics. The grey streaks of dawn found him on the banks of the river near the east-gate, trying to make his choice between devotions - the young Lord or the Almighty Lord. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump (More, more!) -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi trudged wearily toward the east gates of the city, her mind heavy with many thoughts. She knew there wasn't much she could do to help. She had been through numerous tomes a few days before. Tomes on curses, demons, witches...she had exhausted herself reading page after page until her candle had burned to a wick in a puddle. But she had hunted a bit, and was ready for some more. Perhaps she would find something today...with a little more research. She wandered along the riverbank toward the city, avoiding the roads as usual. It warmed Azi's heart a bit less than usual to cast her magic on the weapons of the young charges hunting river spritelings and other creatures as she made her way toward Camelot. Then she saw him.. a young cleric, vaguely familiar, sitting on the bank, staring wistfully into the rushing water. She made her way to his side, and began her incantation to bestow his weapon with the power of the earth. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The enchantments fell about him and the young cleric looked up, his eyes still red-rimmed from crying. "Thank ye good lady," he said around a shy smile. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi looked down at the cleric's tear-stained face, feeling a pang of guilt. She shouldn't have disturbed him, it was obvious he was not hunting here. But now..should she offer a shoulder to this stranger or carry on toward Camelot? She stood for a moment, awkwardly torn, took a few steps back and lowered herself onto the grassy bank. She removed her soft boot, pulled out a small stone, and smiled shyly at the cleric. "That," she held the stone up for him to see, "has been with me since Cornwall." She rubbed her foot a bit before slipping her boot back on, still feeling a bit awkward. "Sir," Azi hesitated a moment, a look of sincere concern in her eyes, "are you quite alright?" -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Swallowing back a sigh, Tobyas swallowed. "Well enough, good lady, for a man in love that cannot be returned," he smiled. "Cornwall, you say? I hear my love is there," he smiled at her. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Walking into the Guild office after many days gone, Crispian serveyed the place, noting the piles of parchment on what served as a desk for him, as well as some gear stacked up for inventory into the Guild vault. He sighed. Sitting at his writing table, Crispian pulled forward a sheaf of blank parchment and picked up a quill. The delicate feather-plume in his thick, small hand looked odd, and as he set it to the parchment, it was clear writing was not his best or first skill. He wrote: "Lord General of the Red Lions, Greetings - I would seek a time to speak with you, unarmed, at your conveince. Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal." Laughter from the storeroom-cum-gathering room drew his attention. This morning, so far anyway, the Laughter had been less, a more bearable burden. He walked in, armor gleaming, new plate arms of deep blue contrasting with his burnished ensemble. Mirashta Wynter stood bantering with some others of the League. Her tall figure was immaculate, as usual, her hair perfect and mirth filled her eyes. "You're in a merry mood today, Auntie," Crispian greeted her, bowing deeply from the waist. She turned, raising an eyebrow at him, and the mirth drained from her face. She straightened to her full height, and fixed Crispian with a stern glare. He swallowed in nervousnesss. ((OOC- Ok, Mir, your turn! (grin))) Edit - Bah! Left something out, had to add it in! -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Neither morning light nor evening dark reached into the gloom of the dungeons. The perpetual dark was part of the punishment, yet it hid some of that those who dwelt within did. D'Vena, former lady and noble of the Realm, paced the back of her cell, a rictus grin of mirth frozen on her face. What little sanity had once dwelt therein had been battered and hammered over the many weeks she had dwelt down here. Her fine robes were a tatttered remnant of thier former glory. She paced and brooded, a lucid moment upon her. She mentally tried to list those who had been there that dreadful morning at her estate, and plan what she would do to each in turn. The little fighter boy was waging his losing battle, she thought with a smile. Her ensnaring of him was complete, and she knew he would face a choice even in gaining his freedom, if such could be achieved by one so lacking in the Arts. The pigfarmer she was plotting on. As with the mercenary wench. Had the impling mentioned something of love for that one? Her grin stretched into a hideous mocking of a smile. There were others, she knew, but as she tried to recall them images came to her mind and the laughter boiled up again. Sweating bodies grunting in the dark, mooncalf eyes of lovers upon the Emain plains. The guardsman looked down the aisle as the Laughter built, sighing. So early in the morn meant a long day of that racket. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi smiled back sheepishly, a hint of a blush on her cheeks. She drew her knees up to her chest and smoothed her slightly stained robes, glad of an excuse to delay her visit to the Academy. "Yes, Cornwall," she replied softly, "I hunted in the catacombs there, with many a companion." Her eyes wandered along the river to the grand achitecture of the city, and a barely noticable hint of fear flashed in her eyes before she looked away again. "Tell me, what is the name of your love? Perhaps we've hunted together." -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas gazed toward the ramparts of the city for a few minutes, then looked down to his hands. "Well, I'm not sure, good Lady, if it would be proper to reveal my love's name, for our stations are of vast difference. It may be, even, that my love is unrequieted." He smiled wanly. "At least thus far, it is." -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi gazed quietly at the young cleric. This, she thought to herself, is why I shall never fall in love. Look at him, sitting here in pain while the one he loves roams the country without a care.. the company of a well-written book is good enough for me. "I apologise, sir.. I meant only to ease your heart with some reassurance. But I should not have asked." Azi looked at him, trying to place his familiar face..and suddenly it came to her. He was the same lad she had noticed in the city a few days before, leaving the same filthy tavern that Lord Crispian had left earlier in the day. She thought to the morning, earlier that week, when she had awoken with a start in Cornwall Inn, hearing shouting and banging in the room next to hers, which she later found out was Crispian's. "I realise that we have just met, and you do not know me, but if you ever need a friend to talk to, I'm willing to listen." She smiled softly, "my name is Azi, of the Guardians of Albion." -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Nodding to her, the young cleric smiled an easy smile. "I am Tobyas, Cleric of the Church of Albion, and a member of St. Crispin's League. But, I should not keep you from your studies, good Lady. The kingdom, I hear, is sore in need of skilled wizards." His smile slipped briefly as a guardsman passed near in the high burnished plate of the Camelot guard and he sighed slightly. "Love and magic craft do not mix well, I'd wager." -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi returned Tobyas' smile and nodded. "Yes," she said, "the art of wizardry is quite time-consuming." Her mind wandered to the task ahead, wondering whether she'd be able to reach the Academy without being tormented as usual by her former classmates. Wondering if that eery feeling would strike her again as it had recently when she entered the city gates. "Perhaps we shall hunt together sometime, if you are a quick study. It seems the hunt is always lacking a good cleric. But you are right, I must go. Farewell, may you find some peace Tobyas." Azi curtseyed gracefully, and shakily made her way to the gates of the city. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas watched Azi enter into the city and sighed. It would be so much easier to have but one focus of things in his life right now. He noticed the rock she had removed from her boot and picked it up. What was Cornwall like? he wondered. -----signature-----
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{old}Mirashta_Wynter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Judging from Crispian's sudden change of expression from a mere stern look, Mirashta surmised that he was aware there were problems. That was a good sign. "Aye, Crispian, and ye'r recent stint of foul moods is not going to waver that", she said, allowing some of the mirth to come back to her expression. Best not push him too far. Besides, finally attaining the 45th Circle in her Wizardry was something to keep her spirits bolstered under nearly any circumstances. She smiled to herself at the thought. "Why, whatever do ye mean, Auntie? I've no more bad moods than normal", Crispian replied taking a sudden gruff expression. "Maybe he isn't fully aware", Mirashta thought to herself, "Best to find out." Raising an eyebrow, Mirashta said, "Ye know perfectly well what I mean. All these angry outbursts at long-time friends and Allies for no apparent reason." "I thought I raised ye better than that, LORD Crispian", she finished with a smirk. "I haven't said anything to anyone they didn't deserve!", Crispian snapped, a dark expression taking over his entire countenance. A quick glance around the gathering room told Mirashta that this needed to be a more private discussion. It was obvious that nearly everyone was treading lightly, speaking volumes of Crispian's recent behavior by obviously trying not to stare at the pair suddenly embroiled in verbal combat. Mirashta moved closer to Crispian, lowering her voice and drawing him back toward his office. "What, precisely, did Tatyanna do to deserve being slighted? And, I've heard of nothing Arguyle has done to deserve ye'r anger", she said. A shocked expression came over Crispian's face. "I would NEVER do anything to insult Lady Tatyanna!", he replied in the same, shocked voice. "Well, that's not what I hear," Mirashta said, lowering her voice again, "and, the way ye'v spoken to Jashen is absolutely unconscionable!" "Well, Jashen should never have taken that ring!", Crispian retorted with sudden anger. Drawing Crispian into his office and closing the door, Mirashta let a little anger into her demeanor. "As I was told, Jashen was GIVEN that ring, in order to perform duties THOU wer't unable to perform at the time, being that ye were too far gone in drink!", she said. At Crispian's sudden surprised expression, Mirashta let some of the anger go and said, "Just because Oakleif and I have been hunting the far reaches of the Realm, lately, does not mean that I don't keep my eyes and ears open." Crispian slumped down into his chair, saying almost in a whine, "It's not like that, Auntie!" Sudden tears sprung up along with a pained expression around his eyes. His hands, almost involuntarily, raised to his temples, seeming to claw at the hair there. Squinting at him just briefly, Mirashta took a sense of his aura, a thing she would normally only do to assess an enemy. Something was... wrong. His aura was diffuse with jagged lines of the worst putrid, dark green. "Mind magic!", she thought to herself, "As a few have suspected. Definitely best not to push him too far until I can consult with the Sorcerers at the Academy." Trying to lower her voice to a comforting tone, she said, "It seems it IS like that Crispian, and ye must do something about it. Unfortunately, as soon as I spoke with my Master at the Academy, he informed me of a most dire mission to thwart Morgana's further schemes. I must be off to wring some vital information from Uther's Shade. We'll speak of this further when next I can return." She paused and added, with a twinkle in her eye, "Ye must also tell me of this Tobyas, as well. A right fair coincidence ye'r seen mucking about the Shadow Quarter, only to have this young man come out of there with sudden coin, turn his life around, join the Church and then the League in short order, all the while asking questions about ye." To Crispian's sudden shocked expression, Mirashta replied, "People that care about ye talk to me, dear one. Enough for me to put two and two together. Wouldn't I of all people be able to puzzle things out long hidden even to ye'rself?" Cupping Crispian's face in her hands, she said, "Mayhap ye should seek out the lad again and not ignore everyone who cares about ye, Crispian." To her surprise, Crispian suddenly bolted up from his chair seeming near a fit of rage. "FINE! Go off with Oakleif hunting, like always!", he nearly shouted, forcing her hands away from him. Mirashta noticed a hint of embarassment in his demeanor. "Just like him to change the subject instead of confront anything directly. Almost as stubborn as me", she thought angrily. Drawing herself up straight again, Mirashta glared down at Crispian. "Don't 'FINE' me, young man! This is business of the Realm I must attend to quickly, or lives will be at stake! We WILL discuss this again as soon as I can return", she snapped. "Whatever you say, AUNTIE!", Crispian spit between clenched teeth as he threw open the door and stalked out into the gathering room. "Tannir! My shield and helm! I'm going to the Barrows", he snapped. Everyone present nearly jumped at his angry tone, but had little time to react as Crispian stalked out toward the stables. Mirashta sighed heavily, her head and shoulders slumping. "That did NOT go well", she muttered under her breath. "I hope there's help to be had for this", she thought to herself. She thought it odd that Crispian had chosen the same destination, but did not offer to accompany her; almost seeming an act of rebellion. "It's almost like this ensorcelment has dredged up every negative thought the boy has ever had, even from childhood", she mused. "Chin up, girl. Best get to your work, before it's too late", she muttered. As she retrieved her staff from where she'd propped it near the door, she squared her shoulders and thought about where she was to go. Seeing all the concerned faces in the gathering room, she said, "If anyone can spare the time, I must seek out the Shade of Uther in the Barrows. He is a much stronger foe than Oakleif and I have ever attempted. We could use some help to put him at his rest this day." She turned to a squire lounging near the door. "Please send pages to the other Alliance Guilds. Tell them to meet Oakleif and I inside the Barrows, if any can make it", she said. As she proceeded toward the stables to follow Oakleif south to the Plains, a smile spread across her face at the thought of her long-time protector and husband. "I must focus on the task at hand," she thought to herself, "this will take all our skill." A spring returning to her step, she hailed the stable master. Almost as soon as she'd mounted a horse, voices began sounding in her head in response to the pages. She couldn't help but smile at the response; Keblen, Keisha, Chancelor, Caloron, many from one of the newest Alliance members, the Guardians of Val Sans Retour. She found herself offering a silent prayer that this much concern among brothers and sisters could be brought to bear to aid her still-young charge. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn watched the crystal as the images in it faded away. All the anger and hurt that the curse was dredging up powered one of the spells in the sphere. He chuckled as Crispian stalked away from his aunt. "Oh, I like her." He sat back in his chair and laughed. He looked at Secaran, lazing in a chair in the corner, reading. "Secaran." The young elf looked up at him. "I need some information. Find out everything you can about this Tobyas." Secaran nodded and rose to leave. "See what you can find out about Crispian's aunt as well. I think she'll be good for the lad." -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian stalked through the east gate of Camelot much like a storm blowing ashore. His dark expression and hand on hilt moved most people away from him as he walked to the stable man, handing him silver and swinging into the saddle. "Who does she think she is? Not my mother!" he thought, urging the horse faster and faster as he thundered over the Cotswold gate bridge. Careening through the village, he felt so much resentment rising up toward Mirashta Wynter. He recalled clearly how she doted on Jashen's every little cut or scrape, but Crispian's? Not likely. "You need to grow up stronger than he does Crispian," she would say, her eyes glazing slightly. "There is more for you to do sooner." Bah! What Avalonian muggle that was! He jumped at the West Down, handing the reigns off, and stalked across the plains toward the barrows. Lara was standing near the entrance, with Hel. Her eyes danced with a wicked mirth. "Care to join us huntin, tin man, or are you too drunk?" she chided. Crispian threw her a dark look, settling helm on head. "Never that drunk, woman," he snapped. She laughed. "Fine then, come along if you can!" She entered the Tomb, her lithe form moving with a grace and style most men noticed and women envied. Crispian came behind Hel as he entered. The Barrows were dark as ever and the gibbering of the damned filled the air. Downward they went, gathering to them Esis and Quott, an old friend to Crispian. "Is the sot ready?" Lara asked archly. Crispian just nodded. The Vigilant Soul rushed to meet Esis' shot and Crispian met it with his sword and shield, catching the first blow as he slashed down into the things body. His sword bit deep and true even as the spells flew from Hel and Quott's hands. As the creature died, he heard the shriek of pain in his mind and gasped. "One of D'vena's," he said aloud. "What did you say?" Lara barked at him. He shrugged. "That one was damned by D'Vena," he said casually, not sure how he even knew that. "Don't say that name," she ordered. Crispian thought to challenge, but something in her manner forbid it. "Whatever, bring the next!" he barked. Thusly it went for some time, and Crispian fell into bouts of silence and drinking. After one nasty battle, Esis sat next to the young warrior and smacked his shoulder. "Thanks for blocking that claw slash!" the young saracen said. "Too cute to let you die," Crispian said offhandly, not even catching the phrase. "He's married," Lara snapped, "and I ever hear of you interferin with a marriage, you'll dance on my blades." Her voice had dropped to a low hiss. "The Married and the Dead," Crispian said offhandly, "never touch either. You have no worries." They fought more, and Crispian drank more. One cask became empty, but he produced another from his heavy pack. "Don't ye think ye've had enough?" Lara asked, no mirth on her face at all. "No," he said crossly. Hel sighed heavily of a sudden, and Crispian turned on him. "Whats bothering you?" "Wife and home," the caster replied. "Is that all?" Crispian asked, sitting against the wall. "Have we time for a tale?" he asked, looking about. The others nodded, and Lara leaned in closer. "You worry about love? And She laughs. She laughs at it all. We love and strive, and she laughs." He grimly finished the tankard. A snarl was on his lips almost. "Let's kill more," he declared, drawing sword and setting shield, but he felt flat inside. The death and mayhem continued. Crispian did not even notice when his blows became erratic, his swing a little wide. The mages, Hel and Quott, worked hard to cover the gaps, shooting alarmed looks at Lara when she unstealthed to glare at him. "Enough of this," she pronounced. "Time for me to seek some sleep." She looked at Crispian, "And for you to find somewhere else to drink," she said as she turned to the others. "Can we make to the door?" Esis asked, feeling light and delighted from the belt he had acquired from the Vigilant souls. "Aye, if SHE can find it," Crispian muttered. "Why did we have no cleric with us tonight?" he asked, head swaying slightly. "Damn church, and damn Tobyas," he continued, shutting up when Lara cuffed his helmed. "If ye can still follow, come on," she ordered and they set off. Outside, the night was clear. The stars danced. "I'm off to the Downs," Lara commented, taking in the others with a sweep of her eyes. "Any others?" Crispian settled to the ground, patting it. "Here. I shleep here," he muttered, and slumped passed out on the ground. _____________ And The Laughter rose in volume. "Close, so close," it hissed. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The two guards leaned against the wall. The prisoner was in a foul mood today, cackling and cursing in turns. The darts hit them both at the same time, right at the nape of the neck. The powerful potion coating the darts put them both to sleep instantly. Ayslyn stepped out of the shadows and walked down the hall, whistling merrily. The prisoner's head jerked up. She had grown used to the sounds of the dungeon, but she hadn't heard anyone whistling. "I've been a wild rover for many's the year I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer But now I'm returning with gold in great store And I never will play the wild rover no more And it's No, Nay, never, No, nay never no more Will I play the wild rover, No never no more " A face peered into the cell. "Evening there M'lady," Ayslyn quiped. D'vena gaped at him. She heard a jingling of keys and the door opened. Ayslyn slipped into the room and closed the door. He twirled a ring of keys around his forefinger and looked hard at the woman on the floor. "We need to talk." "I have nothing to say to the likes of thee." she spat at him. She eyed the keys closely. Her fingers curled into claws. She prepared to cast a spell that would bind him to where he stood now. Suddenly bands of force wrapped around her arms, pinning them to her body. She was lifted from the floor. She looked up. Ayslyn stood there, his posture fit for a lord, and he was surrounded by a brilliant white light. "You have much to say to me," his voice boomed unnaturaly, filling the room with sound. "You will tell me all of what you have done to young Crispian, and what you plot against the others." Waves of sound buffeted her, and she still couldn't break free of whatever held her. "You can not break the spell." "Nonsense," he grinned impishly, "That which can be done, can be undone. Now TALK!" He held up one hand and began to make a fist with it. The bands around her chest began to tighten and constrict. It only took her a moment before she told him everything. "Right then. Good talking with you." he smiled as he opened the door and then locked it behind him. The force holding her up vanished and she dropped unceramoniusly to the floor. Ayslyn removed the darts from the guards, and poured something down each of their throats. "Sorry about that lads. Needed to chat with the lady. You'll wake in a few moments." And with that, he was gone. ******** Alec looked up as Ayslyn came into the room. "Everything go as planed?" he asked with a grin. Ayslyn smiled broadly, "Yup." He removed a necklace, the glow about him vanished. "Love that thing. Loud voice and an aura work wonders when you need to loosen tongues." He removed a ring from his finger and handed it back to Alec. "And that worked beautifully. You should have seen the look on her face when I picked her up." They both laughed. Alec tossed the necklace into the air and caught it as it descended. "Sometimes, the old tricks work the best." They both grinned and stepped out into the Tir. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	D'Vena shook with rage. How DARE he! An Elf! Of all things! She stomped about her cell muttering under her breath, the occasional giggle escaping her like some demented adolescent. "Fiat Fiat Lux" she said, fingers all a wiggle and light diffused above her. She smiled. Yes, it came back. "In Loco Mea Jashenus Pontiffix," she stabbed the ground with a finger. "Fiat!" And in a terrible surge, the world wrenched and she was in a tavern, with a comely girl upon her lap. She stood, dumping the girl to the ground and rose. With a smirk, she walked into the night. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Alec tossed a srcying crystal to Ayslyn as they walked. "It appears as though we have annoyed her." He grinned. Ayslyn peered into the crystal and chuckled. "It does at that. She's not as entertaining as Rose was." Alec gave a short bark of laughter. "This is good though. She was already half mad. Now that she is angry enough, hopefully she will begin to make mistakes. Lets bide a bit. We wouldn't want to do anything stupid. Remeber the hags?" Alec snickered. "You're an evil evil man Ayslyn. Here's hoping I never get on your bad side." Ayslyn grinned at him. "No worries there my friend." He tossed the crytal in the air and chuckled as he plucked it back. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian groaned, clutching his head as he rolled to his knees, then stood up. The world took a tip but he remained upright. He also kept this stomach down. Elves, Aunts and Taverns. God, what was going on? He stumbled a few steps, fell, and got up again. Slowly, he made his way to West Downs. Master Gerol scowled at his plea for healing. "You're a drunkard and I have no cure," he snarled at Crispian. Miserable, Crispian shuffled to the stables and found a clean enough stall, falling asleep again against the far wall. He did not even notice when Tannir appeared, placing a clean blanket over him and order some simple food stuff be placed at hand. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	A hard nightâ€™s sleep in armor made Crispian stiff when he awoke. The basket of foods Tannir had arranged broke his fast, but he thought not about the squire. He took horse again to the south, thinking to be safe there, or at least alone. Cornwall was a worn place to him, so the Retreat was his thought. Arienne was a member of the League, so he thought to impose on the Lordâ€™s hospitality, knight to knight of course. Dismounting at the road, he followed the carefully laid path across on the sodden ground. Musing to the trial that had been here some time ago, he grinned. Jathon being tried, and Arguyle testifying. Bold, and AH that pig farmer! What a bragart! That loud mouthed commoner! So absorbed in thought was he, that he almost walked into a small knot of people at the bridge. â€œHail Cousin,â€ Lynis called, smacking Crispian back. With a start, Crispian pulled up. â€œLynis! Hail,â€ he said, gathering his wits quickly. â€œAnd Achou!â€ Seeing the young Saracen surprised Crispian a bit. â€œAnd two member Leaguers, Kayspon, a minstrel, and Tobyas, a cleric of the church.â€ Lynis motioned to include the two standing near to them. Crispian marshalled up his best manner and bowed to each, smiling. â€œGreetings Brother Kayspon, and Brother,â€ he stopped, looking into green-hazel eyes he had seen once before, the glint of coppery hair peaking out from under a small leather cap, â€œTobyas, is it?â€ Tobyas met his look, feeling his heart speed. He had only come south the day before to hunt, and here he came face to face with the young Lord. He bowed, â€œAye, it is.â€ Lynis smiled, pleased that Crispian had finally been pinned into doing some Seneschal duties again. â€œWe are off to clear the lake shore of quicksands. Seems they have popped up again,â€ he said, stroking his blond gotee. Tobyas noticed that next to each other, Crispian was indeed short, barely coming to Lynisâ€™ shoulder. And he looked much younger than his accolades. â€œHmm? Hunting? Well, good luck to you,â€ Crispian said, bowing to each again and headed quickly for the tower. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tinalynth Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Laraleloth watched the scene with interest. From the shadows she watched the meeting between Crispian and his guild mates. She had not missed the look that had been shared between the cleric and Crispian. It was slightly reassuring to see. Lara had followed the arms man after leaving the Barrows. Keeping in shadow so as not to be seen in his rare sober moments. She shook her head. His fighting had shown flashes of brilliance before the drink had weighed down his movements. She had been unusually harsh with him hating to see such skill sullied by drink. Furious when his inebriation had threatened the safety of her friends Heladus and Kelvyn. Thinking of Kelvyn made her smile to herself. Not that he needed any protecting. Turning her attention back to Crispian she wondered what was wrong with him. He almost had the demeanour of a charmed sorcerers pet at times, at others surly and terrified, and of course drunk. She wasnâ€™t sure which of these three was the real Crispian or if any of them were. Regardless, he needed help, which was obvious. Hoping she wasnâ€™t in over her head; Lara settled down to see where he went next. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian crossed the causeway to the Retreat and paused on the steps. It would be easy to head up. He was known to the Lord, but something stopped him. Abribald had a reputation for hating the Shadow Guild professions and for some reason that bothered Crispian greatly. Finally, he turned and descended the stairs, crossing the large clearing toward Outlaw's Landing. Looking out over the water was a new venue for him, and Crispian indulged it. The cool soothing wash of the waves into the shore distracted him even as he bought some wine. The Marsh Wine was sweet but palatable. He vaguely recalled having good taste in wines. The bustling activity of the people at the landing was pleasant to watch. Some of the shoremen were handsome, in their way. After two glasses of wine, he paused, then bought three bottles and went to sit on the shore, changing first into plain breeches and a tunic, walking barefoot and looking more like a farmer lad than a warrior with 41 campaings behind him and leader of a Guild of 100 souls. He watched the morning wain into afternoon, sipping at the wine with a fair steadiness. Hints of green and copper in the scenery made him think of Tobyas, and hints of gold or blue made him think of the League. Steadily, the wine went down, and Crispian was napping on the sands by late afternoon. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tinalynth Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Lara unstealthed beside the sleeping Crispian. Shaking her head at him silently she surveyed the scene. Grinning mischievously she decided to teach him a lesson. She picked up his armour and wandered off down the beach to wait. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	(snerk Yer evil lass. evil.) -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian woke, groaning, at the westerling sun shone into his face. He squinted into the light and grasped for one of the wines, finding it empty and through it into the surf. Pushing himself up, he looked about. His ARMOR! He scooped up sword and shield and looked about. There were no creatures about. Farkin' Bogmen! Anger rising quickly, he looked for the imagined thieves. Thoughts ran into thoughts. Bogmen, Spriggins, Blackheath village, smoke, fires, the dead lying about, those desperate moments with Darnyk, Mirashta, Oakleif. He looked around, not seeing, unsteady on his feet, sword wavering in front of him. More images crashing in. A young girl, a highlander, a marriage planned and ruined, rivalries, betrayals, his own body nude in the Woman's arms. Fire, more smoke, a collapsing manor house, a husband returned, slain, brought back to life by their daughter, a treacherous brother-in-law, arrest, a dank cell dripping water and smelling of offal. And the Laughter. Crashing in like the waves of the water that had been so soothing. Cackle, snicker, giggle, laugh - mocking all, pressing down senses and reason. "FARKIN' BOGMEN!" he screamed, whirling about looking for an enemy, his battle training, years of practice and ritual, snapping into play. No conscious thought, no reason, all instinct as he cast about, cotton clad chest heaving deep breaths as he prepared. He'd kill. Killing he could do... He paused. The Elven stone on his breast flared warm in the light. Images flashed again. Arguyle, smug in victory. Arguyle in a burning building as Crispian hurled himself into the Lord, pushing him out of the way of a beam. Moryan, betraying wench. Moryan, laughing friend. D'Vena as a high noble woman, and again in chain being led away. Jashen, arm broken and bleeding as Crispian carried him home to Mirashta; Jashen, looking on in concern the last time they spoke. He bit down on his ring, collapsing to his knees. He whimpered, hands to head, and slowly recited the Creed of the League: "We proud few, we band of Brothers, are here met. Within these mystical tablets, you will find the wealth of our wisdom and knowledge. Here we tell you of who we are, why we have been drawn into this fight for Albion, to defend Her Shores, Her Lands, Her beaches. We proud and valiant few, scarred and battered by combat, blown across the Realm by the winds of Turmoil, stand firm, shoulder to shoulder, as Brothers. We are anointed not with kingly oils, but with blood and sweat. The brine of life is what washes over us and from that cleansing we emerge, washed to the purity of soul, the clarity of purpose, and the righteousness of virtue that allows us to approach fair Camelot, to claim not the glory of grail or knighthood, but to claim the Glory of Albion -- the peace of the land which enfolds each citizens of this Realm. " His voice was shaking as he finished, but reason was again in his eyes. He looked about the beach, collecting sword, shield. "It has to be Moryan or Lara," he called out. "Either face would be welcome right now!" -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen pounded on the door, yelled through the bars. "You've got the wrong person in here!" The reek of the cell was overwhelming, a stench of more than bodily waste, but of spiritual offal as well. "Let me out!" he called, but to know avail. ------------------ She skipped along the road, high spirits coming easily. The disused path meandered up into Lynn Barfog, to a much disused house. A beard man bowed to her. "Welcome home, Lady D'Vena," he purred to her. Her glance froze him with a chill that went to his heart. "My tomes and scrolls," she hissed as she glided past. Not even a place that appeared on the Writ of Detainder the king had issued, this home of hers. She walked the broken corridors to her chamber, lighting candles with a wave of her hand. Settling on a settee, she mused. Nice to be home again. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tinalynth Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	As if by magic Crispian's armour dropped at his feet. Stepping out of the shadows Lara said, "Next time ye may nay wake up at all. I could have slit yer throat there. Sober up Crispian. Get the help ye need, now. She vanished again sitting a short distance away, watching. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Dulled mind not able to even react, he stood there panting for breath, the shock still heavy from the seige of his mind he had just gotten past. He picked up his armor, rolling his eyes heavenward. "All these women care for me, and I keep thinking about To- well, Him." He sighed, shaking his head. In a raised voice, he called out, "I know you're near, Lara, and thank you." He slowly made his way toward the Landing again, his armor a heaf in his arms. Gently, he laid it on the boards of the landing, and looked toward the wine merchant. He swallowed hard and bit the corner of his lip. Looking down at his signet, seal of Seneschal on the next finger, he swore under his breath. "Know anyone who might have some milk?" he asked the Saracen merchant, who chuckled at him. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas sat on a beach not far deeper in the swamp. His leather armor was sweaty and smeared with blood, mud and gore. The quicksands had fallen time and again to him and his companions. Lynis, Achou, Kayspon, Ziala, Wolvbane, Wintir, and briefly Andus. He had worked hard, praying for the might and power of the Almighty to bless and heal them all, mostly Ziala, for paladins took a dreadful pounding from these monsters it seemed. He had often felt the energy of the Almighty flow through him, to heal and to bless. He felt wonder and awe at it. Lynis, a minor Chaplian to the Defenders, commented that it was always thus for him. After much battling, Lady Azi stopped at the shore, casting some enchantments, but refrained from joining them. Tobyas recalled her from the banks of the river near Camelot. Yes, being committed to the church was a good thing. He felt that now. But his heart still wondered about Crispian, whom he now could validate as a handsome man, if those bags under his eyes. With a sigh, he stood, ready for battle again. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Peering into the crystal, Ayslyn's grin became a confused frown. He passed the crystal to Secaran who looked at it a moment before handing it to Alec. "So," Ayslyn began, "If she is in Barfog, who is in her cell?" Alec took another crystal from his sleeves, "Give me a moment." He muttered over the crystal and weaved delicate patterns in the air. "It seems, Crispian." he handed the crystal to Ayslyn. Ayslyn looked into the crystal for several moments before he looked up, "No. His twin. Jashen. Well, this had some rather unitended consiquences. I suppose, since we are, sort of, at fault for his being there, we should help him." ******** The two guards were, again, slumped against the wall, sleeping gently. Ayslyn took the darts back and turned to the door. He unlocked the cell and opened the door wide. Jashen stared at him incredulous. "Well come now lad. No time to be standing around. D'vena is out in Barfog and your brother is liable to wind up in harm's way. Not to mention Arguyle, Moryan and the rest. Scat!" He turned to the guards, administering the antidote to the poison. Singing he slipped into the shadows and vanished. Only his voice remained, echoing along the corridor. So come fill up your glasses with brandy and wine Whatever it costs I will pay So be easy and free when you're drinking with me I'm a man you don't meet every day So be easy and free when you're drinking with me I'm a man you don't meet every day -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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{old}Mirashta_Wynter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Despite her earlier good mood, Mirashta was preocuppied. Thanks to the group of Allies that responded to her call for help, Uther's Shade had been laid to rest another day and she had been able to return the information he provided to Master Grundelth. She had even been rewarded a new cloak her Master had in stores, for service to the Realm. She did not feel her usual joy at inspecting a new item. She did not take her usual time contemplating its make and speculating how to make it better. Crispian was worrying her to distraction, her earlier jovial mood forgotten. She knew he had gone to the Barrows before her, but he had disappeared into the bowels too quickly to speak with him again. Repeated entreaties mind-to-mind, as to his well-being fighting among the foul denizens there, produced no response. Her consultation with the Sorcerers of the Academy had been fruitless. One excuse after another, or so she thought. "We must examine the lad directly", they had said. "Well, fark them all, if they won't help!", she muttered under her breath, stalking through the Guild House to her alotted rooms, stormclouds seeming to gather around her. The sight of energies crackling about her staff forced those in the hallways to move to one side tremulously. Upon entering her rooms, she flung the new cloak aside. "Hseru!", she called, trusting that her loyal scribe of so many years would be there. "Aye, M'Lady?", he queried, with a note of concern in his voice. "Hseru, I need you to speak to Tannir or Lynis, and get in touch with Arienne. Tell her that Crispian needs her help. The time for keeping his malady secret is long past, and she's the most experienced Sorceress I know", Mirashta said. "Help me pack for a few day's journey. I'm going to Lethantis to consult with my old mentors there. They seem to have more knowledge of older magics, and certainly different magics, than these simpletons here! 'Academy is the center of all magical knowledge in Camelot', my ARSE!", she snapped irritably. Hurriedly, with Hseru's help, she packed several changes of clothing, rations, all she needed for several days, just in case she needed to gallavant about the Realm in further searches. As she was leaving her rooms, she paused, sighed, turned back and said, "Thank thee, Hseru. Ye'v always been a valued friend." With that, she left. No sooner than she was on a horse for Campecorentin Forest than she began mentally questing for the mind of Mirial, Oakleif's sister, and a somewhat experienced Cleric of the Church... __________________ Mirial was bored. Fyrelet had dragged her to Keltoi... again. She wondered when he would ever fight a little on his own so they would be equal in training, and could go to tackle some of the stronger creatures invading the Realm. She liked his company, even though he wasn't all that talkative. He was a stalwart warrior of the Church, and quite attractive, for a Saracen, she mused, giving him a sidelong glance. Suddenly, the sound of magical energies being harnessed drew her back to the moment. Two Recluses were closing in on the pair, one beginning to cast spells. Quickly, she stunned the spellcaster, then the foe Fyrelet had already begun cleaving at with his two-handed axe. Her thoughts drifted again, as she resolutely began swinging her staff at the closest foe, when suddenly, "Mirial!", sounded in her head. She recognized the mental voice as her sister-in-law, Mirashta. What Oakleif saw in that tall straw of an Avalonian, she'd never understand. Assessing the situation, things seemed well in hand, so she had no fears of holding a mental conversation. "Mirial!", sounded again in a louder, more insistent tone. "Aye, sister!", she thought back to Mirashta. "Mirial, I need ye to look for Crispian. He may need ye'r ministrations", Mirashta sent. Absentmindedly switching targets with her staff, Mirial queried, "Has something felled him, sister?" (Unnoticed by Mirial, a third opponent, a Keltoi Banisher, had snuck behind Fyrelet and was merrily hacking away at the paladin with its sword. "Uhhh... Mirial?", queried Fyrelet, unheard by her, of course.) "Does no one know where he is, then?", Mirial asked. "I haven't heard from him in hours, just please go look for him", Mirashta sent, her concern evident in her mental tone. Briefly, Mirashta filled her in on what had been happening, minus certain details perhaps embarassing to Crispian, namely Tobyas. "Very well, as soon as I can drag Fyrelet out of here", Mirial sent back. "MIRIAL!", barked Fyrelet, bringing her back to the moment. Immediately, she knew she'd let them get into trouble, now noticing the Banisher attacking Fyrelet. She also realized that the foes had ceased to pay attention to her swinging her staff and realized that Fyrelet had gotten nervous again and started using his heal chant, aggravating them further. Just as she was summoning the energy to instantly bless Fyrelet with health, he gasped and fell to the stone floor, knocked lifeless. While uttering a string of epithets to make any drunken Friar proud, she finished off the last two foes, with aid of a few evil repelling spells and quickly made to revive Fyrelet. "I'm sorry", she said when he was breathing again and coming back to himself, albeit reeling from the sickness of ressurection, "Mirashta was just telling me Crispian is in trouble and may need help." "I wasn't paying the best attention, was I", she said, sheepishly. "I noticed", replied Fyrelet in a surly tone. "A man of few words", Mirial thought to herself, smiling. Fyrelet looked up at her with mixed concern and consternation. "Ye needn't be so pleased with ye'rself. I know ye'r bored here and ye'v trained beyond these foes, but I just hate fighting alone, even with the new magics the Elders have taught us", he said. In a lower voice, "I thought they might gain the better of ye, the way things were going." "No worries", Mirial said jovially, smiling even broader at his concern. He was even more adorable when he was upset. "Come though," she said, hauling him to his feet, "we have to go to the Guild Hall and see if anyone's seen Crispian." A few Gremlins, a run to Caer Ulfwych, and two horses later, they reached Camelot after several hours, not having camped for the night. Mirial hurried as fast as her knowingly short legs would carry her for the Guild House. Bursting in, she immediately asked, "Has anyone seen Crispian?" "Last I knew, he was near to West Downs", Lynis replied immediately, being one of the few awake at such an early hour. "Well, if any see him, do let me know. Mirashta's worried. Seems he's in a terrible state", she said. "Aye," Lynis replied, "he's not been quite himself of late, stomping about and snapping at everyone." "Well, let's just hope he realizes he has all these friends. I think he needs them", she said as she hared back out the door into the faint early morning light. -----signature-----
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Arienne_Adribard Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arienne re-read the little note the pigeon had dropped in her hand. Written by Hseru, it said Mirashta wanted her help with a problem Crispian was having. Not many details, something about moods and uncharacteristic behavior, and a suspicion of mind magic at work. Arienne reflected that sheâ€™d not seen Crispian in ages, and wondered if she could even find him to learn more about the problem. As her horse approached her fatherâ€™s castle, she was mentally composing a few pigeon-notes of her own, thinking sheâ€™d ask her guildmates what they knew of Crispianâ€™s whereabouts. Just then, she glanced up and noticed a figure in armor striding off the causeway toward the stableâ€”it couldnâ€™t be, too much of a coincidence! But in fact, it looked too much like Crispian to be anyone else. She held her breath and slid off her horse, landing badly and stumbling to the ground. She pushed aside thoughts of the stain on her new skirt, and scuffs on her fine suede boots, and looked to see if she was seen. One of the guards had noticed, and was trying to hold his face calm: if he let out so much as a chuckle he knew she would freeze him at attention for the rest of his shift. But Crispian apparently hadnâ€™t noticed; he was still heading to the stableman. As quietly and stealthily as she could, Arienne followed. When the Senechal of her guild stopped to deal with the stableman, Arienne peeked around the curve of the nearby tower and examined his aura. She saw a confusing mass of influences: the haze of alcohol, wearing off but still fogging everything; a jumbled mass of foul memories, being fed byâ€¦yes, there was evil magic at work here, and powerful. In addition, there was some sort of warding spell, partially countering the curse. Both the curse and the ward were beyond Arienneâ€™s knowledge, but she quickly considered what she might do to assist Crispian, who was so important to so many people. Compulsion wasnâ€™t right, that simply wasnâ€™t done with friends, likewise mind-lock or brain-fog, they were simply too direct and potent to be of help here, something more subtle was called for. She considered trying to bolster the ward that was already in place, butâ€¦it was an alien magic, strange and unknown to her. No use trying to modify it. What else did she know that might helpâ€¦ Of course! Amnesia! A bit of selective amnesia, to block the memories plaguing him! She quickly wove a block against the worst of Crispianâ€™s torments: the foul laughter, and images of fire and treachery, an endless parade of foul alehouses and nights of self-torment, and someone named Dâ€™vena and someone else named Tobyas. She tied off her spell just in time as her contact with Crispian was broken; she looked up to see his horse spiriting him away. She knew the spell wouldnâ€™t last long, a day or three at most, but maybe it would give Crispian some relief from his troubles and allow him to recover himself. She turned back toward the castle. The curse, that was the real issue. She didnâ€™t know its source, only that it was far away, but she had the feel of it now, and meant to investigate. Perhaps Magus Edaev had something in his library that would allow her to trace the spell to its source. It had been years since she studied in his library, and she quickly hoped he hadnâ€™t changed the lock. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian rode north, toward Castle Sauvage. His head was clear, he noticed. He could actually tell! Throughout the night, he led. He commanded. Benowyc came back into Albion's hand, as did Hurbury, and he commanded. Old life surged through him. The pain was eased. But still, he recalled the copper haired cleric. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Kelvyn26 Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	ooc - I feel slighted I was left out of the adventure with the Vigilant souls... -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/OOC - Sory Kelvyn! I did not mean to slight you but I just couldn't remember everyone who was there the next day at work when I was trying to get that in! -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Kelvyn26 Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tis ok, I figured ye were just to drunk anyways....<smiles> /cry -----signature-----
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The chair was high backed, unpadded, and recently cleaned and oil. The table, a single massive cut of mahagony wood, also gleamed of recent cleaning. The chamber was otherwise nearly bare of adornment. Dangling from high chains, lanterns lit the room to near daylight brightness, despite it being deep beneath the ground. A ceramic stand glowed with coals upon the table. D'Vena, cleaned and gowned in gossamer silk, glided into the chamber, a satchel in one graceful, pale hand. Her eyes danced lively, but her face was still frozen in the end-motion of a laugh. Sanity was barely evidenced in her gaze. She sat in the chair and unpacked the satchel, removing two rolled objects and a small, silver figure with hair of gold. The first roll of padding she gently opened to expose more worn figures: a taller, thinner figure of a man with gold hair, carrying a hammer; a highlander, unmistakable for the kilt worked of fine stones. Both figures she cloaked with tiny cloaks bearing the Coat of Arms for the Red Lions. The second roll opened to reveal small vials, each filled with different colored fluids. The shock each lightly, holding them toward a lantern. With a satisfied nod, she set each down in line. Selecting the hammer-wielding figure, D'Vena toyed with it. It twirled in her fingers for a moment and then see set it down. "Beyond my reach just yet, little Whitethorne." She took the highlander and considered it next. "Pig-farmer, you are in line, fear not that I would forget ye or the slight ye gave me." Lastly, she picked up the newest figure, tying about it a miniature cloak of a tower with a bold, blue chevron beneath. Her finger stroked at the golden hair, so finely wrought. Yes, her little crafters were good, if even more evil than she. She grinned as the metal caught the light. "Oh, the little seducer. Such a wicked boy to be paid wickedly." She hummed while erecting a wire-framed tripod above the burning coals. A catchy tune once popular with the farming community that used to be beyond Predwyn Keep, a community destroyed just a few short years earlier. She continued humming as she set out her trappings, affixing a small platform to her wire frame and setting this new figure on it. The vials she uncapped and set in line, ordered for how she would need them. Then she sat back and looked at it all with hooded eyes. She focused herself, stilling her own energies, focusing her thoughts. "Come onto me, Oh Bringer of Mirth; Beckon to your servants Call, Reveal to me the Path, He Who Laughs, Show onto me Thy Spirit Awl," Her tone was flat, detached, even as a wind picked up in the room, howling louder, but disturbing nothing. "My Soul and Being I pledge, For the Power you can Impart, Push this Pawn upon the Edge, And in Fall, Tear it Apart." Her fingers peppered the coals with liquid on each line, hisses spitting into the air. Her eyes blazed brighter and brighter, her mouth stretching into a more hideous twist as she went. A voice not quite her's came forth from her lips. "I hear my new made Maidens Call, And bend the Being Toward, But yet I cannot give her All, Unless the Pawn Begs her Reward." The wind died, the lanterns guttered and went out. D'Vena collapsed into the chair, her head upon her breast. She had been so close, so close. But still, she thought as she smiled and levered herself to unsteady feet, more was almost as good as all. She smiled as she shuffled out of the room. Even a stone tower can only survive so many assaults. -----signature-----
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Arguyle_MacFadden Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arguyle rode through the gates of his estates in Camelot and handed his steed over to the stablehand. "Take care of him lad." said the Highlander. "Aye, M'Lord. Tis good to have you back home M'Lord." replied the young man. Arguyle smiled warmly at the lad. He had been employed by Arguyle for some months now and had always been faithful. Perhaps he would make a fine Lion. Then as quickly as the thought came it was gone and Arguyle was once again focused on the task at hand. He entered through the kitchens knowing they should be fairly empty this time of day so that he could make his way to his study without much fuss. He had been on sabbatical for nearly a month and a half and now since his return almost 2 weeks ago he had been in the embroiled in the battles in Odin's Gate, Emain Macha and Hadrian's Wall. It seemed that there was no end in sight to the fighting. He longed for peace but steadied himself for war. Reaching his study he entered and shut the door behind him. Sitting behind the large oaken desk he opened a drawer and pulled out parchment, quill and inkwell. Then he set to writing. ------ My King, I pray this letter finds you in good health. I have been away for sometime now and upon my return I was greeted by your loyal servant and one of those responsible for foiling D'Vena's plan to assassinate you, Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal of St. Crispin's League. The lad was acting very strangely and spoke often of D'Vena's malice and ill-content toward me. I asked the lad how he would know such things and he burst into mad laughter and fled. I fear that the witch has placed a hex on him and that if she is not dealt with straightaway that he may suffer permanent damage to his soul. I beseech you as your friend and loyal servant to exercise your will in this matter and have the young Seneschal purged of this curse by the highest ranking of the clergy and your Master of Sorcerers. Perhaps together they can drive this demon or foul magick from our young friend. Your friend, Arguyle MacFadden Lord High General Order of the Red Lions ------------ With that Arguyle neatly folded the parchment and dripped hot wax onto the fold. Then he placed his stamp on the wax. The mark of the Order of the Red Lions. His task done the Highlander turned and looked out of the window. Looking down upon the gardens he thought about how good it felt to be home. Thought of his friends came to him and he smiled broadly. His friend Moryan had married another friend while he was gone. Glavian was a good man and he could tell that he loved Moryan. Perhaps if he had not been away so long..... Nay he would not think of such things. He was happy now for the first time in a long while. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	With great mirth and noise, they entered the city, carrying the Midgard banners that had recently been atop Caer Benowyc and Caer Hurbury. Crispian was awash in pride, a rare indulgence for him even in the best of times. Lomas had, quite suddenly during the raid, asked Crispian to take command. With a certain hesitancy, he agreed. He had not thought to do much more than raid Sir Leftie's vault for the rams they would need at Benowyc, but he thought he could handle the burden. The battles had been well ended. The forces, advanced at the Mile Gates in the frontier as well as the main body, had done so well. Brisk, easy work. The young warrior was all smiles and cheers for his mates. Ye Mug was a welcome sight, and even the large mug of tea was acceptable, although it drew many scowls from seasoned warriors. He was in mid-swallow when it hit him, sharp as an arrow and blunt as a troll hammer. Eyes squeezed shut in pain as the amnesia spell snapped like a twig against the sudden onslaught. Crispian's hand grasped a cord about his neck and yanked forth Ayslyn's charm, wrapping a fist about it. He held it to his lips as he murmured the Psalm the bible had flipped open to. "I waited for the Lord...I waited for..." he gasped, eyes wide, trembling. Still holding the crystal, even as the mounting cut into his palm, he grabbed tankard and drained it to the dregs. "More," he gasped to the barkeep, slapping down a gold coin, "and then even more." He drained the new mug in a long swallow. The ale burned, a liquid fire coursing down his throat, but it also numbed his mind. The visions surged forward again, but different. Jashen, again with broken arm and bloody; Asotrem fallen in battle with a river drake; Oakleif and Mirashta fallen from Pealiaghs; Darnyk, dead from Pikemen; friends and family, dead or wounded, and Crispian always sitting on the grass, sword sheathed, near them, helpless. The second mug went down easily, as did the third, and even the fourth. Those who had mocked his tea order watched aghast as the young warrior, so recently smoothly commanding a raid, drank down ales like a Troll. He looked up, looked about the room. "We're all dead," he muttered, and stumbled toward the door, passing out into the night. ----------------------- Still bemused at the manner of it, Jashen none the less was enjoying being set free. The elf had been clear gone without a sign when Jashen got out of the cell. Asking no questions, he had slipped from the castle and made directly for the guild quarters. Sprinting up the stairs, he shook Tannir awake. "Sorry, lad, but I need to get word out. D'Vena's free." Tannir paled at the words but fetched parchment, quills and ink for the letters that would need to go forth. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian stumbled through the dark streets, half blind with pain. The endless images of situations where he had been helpless continued to batter at his mind. He bought more ale, attempting to seek the relief of obliviously passing out. Four taverns, eight tankards. Finally, weaving and stumbling, he found a travelersâ€™ lodge and took a room. He carefully removed and stored his armor, then curled up on the cot. His mind berated him, the elven stone comforted him as he clung to it. He so did not want to be alone, but could not think of who to go to. Who had he not failed? Who had not been battered or killed under his command? He wept bitterly thinking how often friends and companions had fallen aiding him or fighting with him. Sobs wracked him as he cried pitifully, grateful none could see him, and those who could did not know who he was. Then he thought of Tobyas. He had failed him, too. Slinking off like that in the pre-dawn hours and leaving him in that dreadful tavern. COWARD! He screamed at himself. A worthless coward, craven and dishonorable. Worthless, deceiver, seducer! He balled himself up against the wall, eyes filled with terror. â€œIâ€™ll be good, I can be a good boy. I can.â€ He almost beg for mercy, almost cried out for relief. The cool weight of the elven stone against his signet ring stopped him. He raised his balled fist to his mouth, stone inside and ring against lips. â€œI --- wonâ€™t ---- give ---- in,â€ he said through clenched teeth and braced for the next onslaught. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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King_Constantine Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Constantine, King of Albion, friend of Arguyle MacFadden, stood reading the letter he had received from the man. "So she meddles even now?" thought the King. "Guards!" he called out. As the guard entered the chambers he instructed him to carry word to the Chief Dungeoner that the witch was to be isolated and bound until her execution which would be set for tomorrow. He had had enough of the woman and he now would do what should have been done long ago. He then called the Captain General of his personal guard to his side. "Find Crispian and bring him back here. Take him to the Cardinal and have them rid him of any demons that may be hounding him. Then have the Master of Sorcerers divest him of any ill magicks. We must help him." said the King. The Captain General saluted crisply and set off to his task. ----------------- As Crispian lay balled up in the corner of his room he heard a loud knock at the door. Then another knock and a shout. "Crispian Pontiff! Open the door in the name of King Constantine!" came a deep voice. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Hearing the pounding on the door, Crispian's eyes get wide. The booming voice. The sound of soldier. He cowered for a moment. The King? Was he to be tried for all his failures? His knighthood, given by Oakleif, removed? The League destroyed? He slunk toward the window, guaging the drop, and lept, speeding into the night. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn chuckled as he watched D'vena cast the spell. "Oh dear. She's meddling with some dangerous forces. You have to admire her courage, or her stupidity." *** Moryan and Glavian woke that morning to find a note laying upon their blankets, closed with the green willow seal. Your exile is well know to me. However Crispian and all those responsible for D'vena's capture are in danger. She is free and hiding in a house in Lyn Barfog. Prepare yourselves. Should I learn more, I will inform you. Ayslyn Greenwillow ***** Arguyle wasn't sure when the note, sealed with the green willow mark, appeared on his desk. He broke the seal and read. D'vena is free and in Lyn Barfog. She plots revenge on all who were responsible for her fall. You and Crispian most of all. Crispian is still suffering from her curse. He doubts himself and will be fearful of most anyone. Do not let any of your people remove the necklace he wears until the spell is broken. It is all that is giving him a chance to fight the curse. Ayslyn Greenwillow, Rhiannon's Chosen, Champion of Justice. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Bursting through a doorway, Crispian stopped. The world was confusing. His thoughts raced around like a Lurikeen on fire. He couldn't focus on his surroundings at all. It was a tavern or something he thought. He stood there, dazed. A scar faced saracen stepped from behind the bar and approached, thinking at first to help this poor, drug-addled soul. Then he recognized him. A cruel sneer spread over his face as he motioned to a lurk hulk of flesh. "Kizial, find somewhere safe for this young knight." He lifted Crispian's chin and looked into the wide eyes, dilated pupils flashing back torch light. "Like the basement," he said with a sneer. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/ooc There will be some RP on this tonight, about 9 PM Central. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/ooc This is all taken from a chat log in game of the events that follow. It has been edited into sequence and into a narrative format. I hope you enjoy. Azi sat in the Academy. Scrolls where stacked next to her, indexed and catalogued. The message from Mirashta was still fresh in her mind and she knew now was a time to act. Rising, she marked the place she had been at and smoothed her robes. The Defenders of Albion guildhouse was a place she knew of, but was not fully comfortable with, but if that was where she might find Tannir, that is where she would go. The number of people on the streets gave her some anonymity as she walked toward the stone buildings that made up the complex for the Defenders. Stepping inside, she let her eyes adjust to the dimmer light and looked about. She wandered the complex for a few minutes, hoping to catch sight of someone in the League cloak, but she saw no one. Finally, out of desperation more than want, she approached a man seated in a large room. She curtseyed. â€Excuse me, sir, but I am looking for a young man named Tannir,â€ she said quietly. Captian Rion looked up from his notes with a scowl. "Tannir?" he said, pursing his lips. "Oh, yes, the squire lad. I think he is off on some errands. What did you neeed him for?" Azi thought of what she could reveal to this man, and decided to reveal as little as possible. "I seek the Lord Crispian," she said, watching Rion with keen attention. Rion snorted and made a wry face. "You would be best to seek out a tavern to find that one. He is turning into quite the drinker, enough to rival a friar." He turned back to his work, wanting no more of one seeking the warruir he now thought of as a great failure to the Defenders. Azi nodded, biting back a reort and headed out from the Guild hall. Her face burned with her want to say something, but she thought better and just left. Standing in the east gate square, she realized that for all her living in Camelot these years, she knew little of the city. Turnng left, she head down the cobbled street. As she went, she heard comments made quietly between some of a knight, in plate, drunkenly careening through the streets last night like a man possessed. The Stone, as it was called, was not overly busy, but still Azi drew some raised eyebrows and considerations from the male patrons within. The place was half empty with stools about, a large bar with a surly looking barkeep beind it. Azi mused that his dispostion explained why he was working now rather than in the evening when more people would be about. Dwerrav looked at the young girl and smiled, his manner changing immediately. "Help ye, miss?" he says, noting her grimace at the din from the loud and rowdy patrons, few tho they were. Azi drew herself up and tried to look calmer than she felt. "I am looking for a man named Crispian, a young Lord and knight," she said, trying for her most commanding tone, but she heard the quaver in her voice. Dwerrav smriked, "Young lady, tis a tavern. Many lords and knights find there way here. Might ye describe him?" Azi blushed, feeling silly. "Yes, he is a smaller man, but thick of shoulders, with blond hair and wearing high burnished plate," she said, indicating what she thought was about the right height for Crispian. Dwerrev nodded as she spoke. "He wears a towered cloak, aye?" When Azi nodded, he made a glum face. "He was here, a'right, and drank many ales, rather quickly. Rude man, he was. Surly, even, then he stomred out into the night, almost to tears, he was." The barkeep looked about for some privacy. "He seemed to not care for the praise given him for taking Benowyc or Hurbury" Nodding her head, Azi thanked him and, amid calls from the men of the bar, headed into the street. Not looking up, she almost walked right into a patrolling guardsmen. He grabbed her shoulders, at first thinking to just move the inattentive lass aside, then he caught glimpse of her face. This was Judan's girl! "Little Azi, what is the rush?" he asks. Color rose to Azi cheeks. Silly girl, she thought, look where you are walking! She looked up to the guardsman, as she had to do to many of them, and smiled shyly. Another friend of her father's, no doubt. "I'm searching for a friend, sir." she answered shyly. The guard smiled widely "You have many friends little one!"" Azi looked down, trying not to blush, "Not too many. Perhaps you've seen him, his name is Crispian?"" The guard snorted loudly and shook his head "That one is bad news, Azi." He looks about to make sure you are unobserved. "He's gone to the drink"" Azi nodded, "Yes, I know. I've heard it isn't like him, and I'm searching for him in order to help. Have you seen him?"" The guard shook his head, "No, Azi, but he was at Ye Mug, drinking tea some say," he laughs, "but I think not"" Azi siezed the name. "Ye Mug? Can ye poiint me to it, please?" "Tis near the round table gate, but Azi, that is a warriors tavern!" he said, a note of concern coming into his voice. Trying to hide her uneasiness at hearing this, she nods. "Yes, well, I'll be careful sir. Thank you," she said, and moved off after a quick curtsey. He watched her go and smiled. "So much like her mother," he muttered and resumed his rounds. Arriving at Ye Mug, Azi pasued in the doorway and took a deep breath. Peering in, she entered. Many of the patrons took notice of her. She saw Salor, a friar friend and greeted him quietly. "Hail, Salor. How are you this day?" she asked, as Salor again moevd his mug toward the barkeep. "Refusing a friar a drink?" he said, sighing wistfully. With a sneer, the day man filled the mug again. Azi made her way sheepishly to the bar as Salor snatched back his mug, turning his attention to the pretty face of Azi. A plate-clad warrior eyed Azi appreciatively as she smoothed her robes and looked to the barkeep. Twist-lip, as he was called due to a scar, nodded to the young lady. "Hail young lady. Some wine for ya?" he asked, wiping his hands on his apron. Azi leaned into the bar, whispering quietly, "No, thank you, sir. Have you seen Crispian?" she asked. Twist-lip guffawed loudly. "The young drunk? he asked, voice loud enough to carry through the entire bar room. Azi blushed a deep crimson and stared at her hands, not noticing Salor beside her at the bar. Salor, noticing her nervousness, said in a stage-whisper "I was getting worried, being the only one in a dress here," he joked, plucking the front of his friar's robes. Twist-lip, misreading her reaction, adopted a kinder tone. "Lass, you could get better men anywhere," he said kingly, "and I've heard he cares not for the fair sex, if ye catch my meaning." Salor, a bit into his cups, nudged the lookout next to him. "Aye, I saw his (cough) friend by the Vault earlier. Looked like he had just learned to ride a horse!" The lookout chuckled, knowing the way of some in the city. Azi gasped at the barkeep and ignored Salor. Her color drained, face becoming serious as her best spell. "How dare you! I'm merely asking if you've seen him. If you are not going to answer, then fine!" Her gaze was dead stern at Twist-lip. Shocked a the sudden change, he drew back. "Aye, lass, he was here last eve," he said much subdued, being caught off-guard by the sudden manner of this young woman. Salor banged his tankard on the bar again, widening his eyse slightly, as if to ask "Why is this not full?" Twist-lip scowled and refilled it. Recalling Salor's casually remark about Crispian's "friend" Azi turned to him, pointedly ignoring the barkeep's reaction. "Thank you, sir," she said and rose to leave quickly. Salor called "Thank you, pretty face who's name I never caught!" even as Twist-Lip called "MISS!" Azi turned from the door, looking back in. Twist-lip motioned her back in. The lookout nudged Salor and leaned in, "That is little Azi." Salor turned to him, a mild surprise on his face, "Oh my," he commented dryly. "Her father," he continued, "was a great paladin, now gone mad." Azi stepped back to the bar and Twist-lip offered a steaming mug of tea, which she merely looked at as she leaned in toward him. "There was something sore wrong with him last night, Miss," he said quietly. Salor moved fluidly around the bar, appearing next to Azi and uncapping a falsk, poising it over the tea. "A little something to spice it up?" he offered. As Azi sat, shaking her head at Salor's offer, the lookout moved nearer to Salor, the hushed manner of the whole exchange pulling him in. "Are ye not allied with the League?" he asked Salor, who gave him a look of disdain, even as he shrugged at Azi. Azi leaned toward the barkeep and whispered, "What do you mean?" The bar man looked about a moment, his eyebrows nettling together. "I'll tell ye, he was fine for a bit. A perfect knight of the Realm, then all of a sudden, he acted, well, forgive me for saying, like a birthin' woman, all bent up in pain." At Azi's nod, he continued. "Then, all a sudden, he gets all weird like and deamnded ale." He paused. "He was drinkin' 'em down as fast I could fill 'em, I swear!" Azi looked sternly at the barkeep again. "How long ago did it start?" she asked in her best voice, firm and clear. Salor was nodding in agreement to the tale, a slight twinge of jealousy at the speed of service told flashed on his face. Twist-lip considered. "Oh, must have been about midnight last night. The lookout again nudged Salor. "Are ye their allies?" "If this be 'little' Azi, then aye, and Lord Crispian." Salor muttered, annoyed at the inrruption. "Aye, tis both," the lookout whispered and stopped as Salor fixed him a look reserved for the sinful. Azi sighed, "Thank you for the information, I must be going now," she said, standing to leave. "Miss!" Twist-lip said, grabbing Azi's wrist, which she jerked back quickly. "I am right here," she said archly. Twist-lip lowered his voice, "He was not in his right mind, I tell ye! He was cried like a wee girl and ran out!" "Really?" Azi said as she frowned. "Well, let's hope something can be done to help him." Salor, taking advantage of the barkeep's attention being diverted, snuck around the side of the bar and snatched the 'good' stuff, leaving a few gold pieces where it sat. Azi, seeing Salor, surpressed a giggle. Twist-lip continued in a low voice, "I dinnae know what ye know, but word is he has been to the Shadow quarter, for - ah - relief if you know what I mean," he said as color rose in his cheeks. Salor's glance is momentarily diverted to the Round Table. Azi frowned deeply at the barkeep. "Do you take pleasure in sharing the personal misgivings of your patrons?" she asked, slapping a silver coin down on the bar and leaving. Salor, happily filling the astonishing number of flasks from his robers, looked up. "Hmm, I suppose I should go. The barkeep scowled at Salor. "She be your ally, Monk. Tell her it was her concern and not mine own." Tossing a few golds on the bar, Salor nodded. "Tomorrow, barkeep?" He said smiling and left, heading toward the Round Table. Twist-lip snorted as the friar left, but added the coin to his purse just the same. Azi walked with a fury into the street, but dismissed the barkeep as she turned toward the Vault. She wasn't sure exactly what Salor met by Crispian's friend, but her concern drove her on. The balcony area over the Round Table was sparsely used today, she noted with some relief. Azi saw him then, a young lad wearing light leather armors. His badge was the League's, but marked with Crispian symbol. She walked up to him and he bowed in answer to her curtsey. He obviously had some courtly training. Salor sidled up the staris and took up a spot a respectful distance from Azi and the young man. "Greetings, sir," Azi said. The lad blushed a pleasant, youthful blush. "I am nae a sir, but thank ye the same," he said, his voice rich with the aceent of country peasanthood. Azi smiled and motioned him away from the vault area. The two of them walked down the balconey from the Vault as Salor busied himself with a transparent pretense of doing an exchange at the vault. The lad stopped, turniing to her, "What can I do for ye, Lady?" he asked respectfully. Azi, lowering her voice to a whisper, introduced herself, "Azi Icemistress, High Council of Guardians of Albion. Do you know Lord Crispian?" Blushing, the young nodded. "I am his Squire, Lady," he said, a mix of pride and concern tinging his voice. "Oh, you are?" Azi said in a pleased voice. Perhaps Mirashta was right that he could help, she thought. Nodding again, the lad continued. "Aye, I attened Lord Crispian when he is in Camelot." Salor, overhearing this, while pointing at items with his staff, wiped his beard to cover a smirk. "Well," Azi interrupted, "then you must know where he is? I've been asked to find him." The lad glacned about. "I ah I heard he was last seen in the Shadow quarter, Lady, but please tell no one." Concern entered his voice. "Last heard, he was there and quite drunk," he concluded with some unease. Azi smiled gently at him. "I assure you, I won't tell anyone," she said, covering her own worry over hearing the Shadow quater, for she did not like the sound of it. On instinct, for this Lady Azi seemed goodly and Tannir was greatly worried, he lowered his voice to a bare whisper. "Word has it, Lady, that he," pausing to looko nervously about,"has a lad there," he said. Salor, somewhat bored, and somewhat drunk, launches into a stroy of his battle prowess to a disdainful vault keeper. Azi covered a mild surprise. "At the Shdaow Guild?" she asked gently. The boy nodded, "Or there about." "How long ago was he seen there?" Azi asked. The boy whispered, "I heard he went there last night, lady, but tell him not!" Noticing the look of shame and worry on his face, Azi reached out and touched his arm. "I'll find him and we'll set things right, but I have to go quickly." The boy's face lit with some hope. "Please , lady, for I fear for him!" he said. Azi smiled at that. "You and many others." She paused, realisig she did not know the lad's name. He bowed to her. "I thank ye Lady," he murmured as he striaghtened. "Thank you," she said. "What is your name, lad?" "I am Tannir, Lady," he said. Azi curtseyed to him again. Salor moved down the balcony, out of earshot, but keeping the wizard in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, Tannir looked to Azi. "Please find him, Lady Azi." "I shall Tannir. We'll set things right. Farewell!" she said, and left the Vault, heading for the Guild of Shadows and the unsavory part of town which suorrounded it. Tannir watched her go, then silently said a prayer to the Alimgith that she might succeed. Salor, unversed in the ways of stealth, trod behind her at a distance. Azi hurried down the street toward the Guild of Shadows, worrying about how exactly she was going to find out what she need to know there. Salor, employing a bit of logic and inferring Azi's destination, beat her there and sat against a wall, patiently waitiing. Mirilaloth, an infiltrator by trade, was in the Shadow Guild and scratched his head as he saw Azi running toward hi, "What's the rush, Azi?" he asked. Azi paues, noticing the friar seeing the red-robed friar from the bar. Wasn't he at the Vault, too? she thought. Then she spied Mirilaloth. "Miril!" she exalimed, grabbing him and pulling into an alley, out of site of the friar. Miril winced. "Oww, why so rough?" "Shh!" She said, holding a finger to her lips and looking back for the red-robed friar. Salor was crossing the courtyard and starting a conversation with a guard. Mirilaloth looked at Azi curiously. Azi stared at where she thought her friend was. "Miril, would you please show yourself. I hate talking to air, sir!" Azi said a little testy. As the guard chuckled at something Salor was saying, Mirilaloth said "Ohh, you mean unstealth? You know I am uncomfortable with people seeing me. I just forget that I am stealthed. he said. As Azi smiled, he unstealthed a little further down the alley and waved. "Miril," Azi almost hissed in a whisper, "I need your help. I'm looking for someone who is inside the Guild of Sadows." She could not repress a shiver as she finished. The guard nudged Salor, and looked toward the alleyway. "She's a fine lass, aye?" With nod and an "aye," Salor agreed, even as he muttered under his breath about ungrateful hussies. The guardsman nudged Salor and winked, "Vows, eh friend?" Miril grinned at Azi, "Who?" he asked. "Taty's friend, Crispian" Azi said, quite serios. "Where is he in there?" Miril asked. Although the Guild of Shadows had formal buildings, there was also a large expanse of structures loosely associated with the publically unsavored association. Azi looked around. "I was told he's insiide, but I don't want to in alone," she said quietly, fear of being overheard fill her with a dread. Miril laughed at her. "Still afraid of the dark?" He shook his head. "Sure, Sure. I can go in there with ya." he dark" Salor threw a look at the guard and moved around again to get the wizard within range of sight, and healing magics. Azi sighed as she saw the friar take up his post nearby. "What here a minute, Miril." She walked over to the friar. Salor, tucking newly purchased arrows under his robe, did not move. Azi walked up to him directly, even as Miril faded into the shadows. "Hail Salor," she greeted him. "Might I ask why you've been following me all over the city?" Salor shrugged, not noticing Miril moving close enough to listen. "You seemed somewhat hesitant to continue your search for Lord Crispian alone," he explained. "Well, you could offer your help instead of following me around, you know," Azi said archly. The guard laughed. "She's got you there, boy-o!" he called. Salor nodded. "The thought had occured to me! But, I'm drunk and you left. I didn't really want to interrupt you." Even as Azi glared at the firar, Miril had to laugh a tthe thought of a friar ever being sober. "Drunk. Perhaps you should go home and sleep it off. Worthless adiction!" she snapped. The guard laughed again. "Got ye agian, Boy-o!" he called to the friar. Azi sighed, and turned back into the alley to Miril. Salor frowned. "No need to be cruel, missy!" he snapped back. Twirling his staff demonstratively, he continued "I can still handle myself well!" "Miril?" Azi called into the empty alley. He waved, still stealthed. Azi looked around. "Blast it, Miril! I am losing my patience!" Miril, busy admiring Sara Fletcher, had not been paying attention. "What? What? What?" he yelped out and favored Azi with a smile. Azi shook her head in exaspeation, but smiled at Miril just the same, and gestured toward Salor. Salor muttered to himself about having two burly men to protect her, even if one isn't wanted. Miril looked toward Salor and nodded his head toward Sara. "Oh, the drunken friar?" Azi included Salor with a gesture. "This is Salor. He seeks to help. Can you show us inside perhaps?" Miril leaned toward Azi and whispered, "I think he kinda likes ya." Louder, he said "Sure, sure. Just this way gents and lady." Azi almost kicked him, but whispered, "You know I'm not interested." Miril smiled. "Welcoem to the Guild of Shadows, home sweet home!" He gestured vaguely at the compound. "Murky," Salor commented as Azi shivered. "Let me show, uh, Salor," Miril quickly filled in, "where the ale is kept up top." Azi scowled. "He does not need to know that. We need to find Crispian," she reminded Miril, eyes getting the stubborn look he knew so well. Salor smiled. "Aye, I've plenty enogh," he quipped as he produced a flask. Miril took a draw off the flask. "Mmm. This is good ale. What brand be it?" he asked Salor. "From Ye Mug, friend," he said. Miril smiled, too. "Ohh, right right! Let's check down stairs." As Azi peered around cautiously, Miril nudged the fiar, "Can I have some?" he asked, and Salor silently produced a second flask and passed it over. Miril stepped into a near-hidden stairwel. "This is the secret way of the Guild of Shadows." he said. Azi's nose wrinkled a the musky smell as they headed down the staris. Miril smiled and waved at a figure in the shadows, his old master Edric. "Hail, Captain!" Azi paused as they made their way across the basement. "I don't like this at all." Miril headed to the staris and led them down. Azi looked around the tunnel, seeing some chest, the shadows of Edric, but no Crispian. "C'mon up, Azi!" Miril called. "No one down there. I just owed the Captain some money." He laughed. Azi continued up as Miril and Salor turned off, and went down a second flight of steps. Azi looked about and realized she had lost her companions. Salor paued, not seeing Azi and yelled back up, "C'mon down, milady!" Miril laughed. "Even a drunken friar can follow me better than you!" Azi yelled down the stairs, "You just told me to go up!" and stomped down there staris. Miril was taking another swig of ale from the flask as she yelled, "STOP!" and took the ale from Miril, handing it back to Salor with a glare. "One drunken companion is more that enough. Let's go." Miril turned a corner and saw Crispian lying prone on the floor, naked and bleeding. He walked toward him, and nudged him with his boot. To his surprise, the young lord grabbed it weakly and began to sob and kiss it "Crispian?" he hissed out, shocked. "Azi! Salor! Down here!" Azi heard the voice, but was unsure where it came from. "Miril?" she called. Mirill ran up the stairs to find them, leaving a weeping Crispian behind him. Salor entered the room even as the infiltrator left it. Crispian looked up, eyes hollow and empty. "Please, no more!" he cried out. Salor produced an extra robe from his pack and helped Crispian pull it on. "Thank you, thank you," he cried patheticall, grasping to Salor's legs. Salor shrugged, never one to appeciate a sobbing drunk, "Of course, mi'lord." Just as Azi felt panic closing in on her, Miril appearred and dragged her down to the chamber. Miril knelt next to Crispian and took out a flask, which Azi grabbed away. "You look like hell, Crispian," Miril said. Looking up at the infiltrator, eyes showing no reason or thought, "Take me home, please," he gasped out. Salor, feeling the situation to serious, quiped, "But he is wearing a stylish robe." Azi knelt by Crispian, even as Miril was slinging the knight's right arm around his neck to lift him. "Miril, stop it!" Azi blurted out. What are you doing?" Crispian leaned into the infiltrator, almost clinging to him. "I'm going to take him to the healers," he replied. "Please, no pain, sir" Crispian sobbed. "Let the clerics helped him" Miril continued, even as Salor coughed discreetly behind him. "Some ale could ease his pains." Azi shook her head. "We have to let his Aunt know that we've found him," she said, watching Crispian's fawning and pawing at Miril, who fught to keep the knight's arm abou his neck. "That can wait," Miril hissed. "He need healing!" Crispian stroked Miril's armor jerkin. Don't hurt me, master, please," he begged. The nights terrors washed over his mind. Miril looked down at Crispian in concern. "I'm not your master," he said quietly, eyes reflecting his growing alarm. "Who did this to you, mate?" Azi nodded, "Yes, he does need healing. Crispian?" she called softly. Recoiling more against the infiltrator, Crispian sagged toward the floor as Azi said his name. "Please, master," he whimpered, remembering cruel blows for hours at as his name was said, "no pain, please." Salor regarded the man in front of him. "Stylish, and he seems well enough physically. Perhaps we should take him to his aunt." "Miril," Azi asked, "why does he keep calling you 'master'?" Miril shrugged as Crispian collapsed to the floor again. "I guess I have that kind of presences about me." Face hear to the ground, Cirspian pawed and fawned over Miril's boots, his lips against them as he continued to mutter, "don't hurt me Master," quietly, over and over. "I think it's because I kicked him when I first came down," Miril concluded, looking at Azi. "He looked dead." Azi shouted, "Crispian! What happened to you? Why are you here?" Crispian cired out, grasping tighter to Miril's leg, "Pleae, master, plesae!" he croaked out, "don't let her touch me!" A vision of D'Vena filled his mind's eye. Salor muttered "banshee," as he tugged his ear. Azi looked at Miril. "You have to talk to him, Miril. He won't even asnwer me." Miril looked down at Crispian. "What's my name, Crispian?" he asked in a carefully nuetral tone. Crispian shuddered. He cringed and puled further back into himself. He looked up at the towering man. How often had he been asked that last night? "Master," he croaked out. "Hmm," Miril paused. "What should I ask him, Azi?" he asked quietly. Azi sighed. "We're wasting time. You're right," she looked up at Mirl. "He needs healing and we need to let his Aunt know we have him. If he thinks your his master, play along. It may help us get him out of here." Miril gave Azi a look. "Help me, Azi. We'll get him there, but you'll have to lead the way. Salot, help me carry him." Crispian gazed up at Miril, fearing the next question, the next blow, but unable to surpress an almost physical want to please him. Miril struggled to get Crispian to his feet. "Azi, lead the way. My guess is that an infiltrator must have been him up. Is his aunt a cleric?" Azi shook her head. "No. Where do you think we should take him?" Salor shrugged, fastening his staff across his back. "Salor," Miril asked as he settled Crispian's arm across his shoulders, "Can you heal him?" Azi words were right on the end of Miril's "Salor, can't you fix him up a little?" "You are a friar," Miril reminded. Salor nodded, "Why thank you for noticing!" he said a bit crossly, having listened to the debate over clerics for the past few minutes. Crispian clung to Miril's arm, head agains the infiltrator's chest. Was the kindness going to continue? he wondered. "Crispian, stand up. Everything will be all right." He extracted the armsman from his grasp, setting him on his own feet. "Yes, master," Crispian whispered, steadying himself on his feet. Salor mustered a bit of energy to heal. Maybe he had had a tab too much to drink, as it seemed to be a little difficult. Azi shook her head at the friar. "I told you!" she hissed. Miril saw that Crispian was none-to steady. "Put your arm around me, Crispian, and put your weight on me," he said, keeping his tone as gentle as he could. Salor fixed Azi with an icy stare. "Hey! Healing is difficult. I have to remember where everything is attached!" Azi looked at Miril. "Where should we take him? He keeps saying to take him home, and as fas as I know, that is the Defender's Guild." Crispian leaned into Miril, who shifted to balance batter. "Come on. Let's take him there than." Azi nodded. "We can take him there and send for his Aunt." As the healing power from the Friar washed over Crispian, Miril shouldered his weight up. Miril set him on his own feet again. "Follow me," he told Crispian, clear and firm. The knight recoiled, "Please, master," he sobbed, sure the blows would start now, "no more pain!" Miril started up the stairs, and Salor took up a position behind them all to ensure nothing happned. At the first turn, Crispian lost sight of Miril, and sank to the stones. "MASTER!" he called like a lost child. Miril turned, calling "Come up the stairs!" Cripsian crawled the remaining steps, "Yes, Master," he eked out. Seeing him weaving in exhaustion, Miril again shouldered his arm. "Help me carry him, Salor," he said as the friar nudged Crispian from behind. "Wait!" Azi called, "Wait!" and paused in thought. Seeing the mid-day sky, Crispian shuddered. Hadn't that hateful little man said he would never see the sky again? Azi shook her head. "Nevermind, let's go!" And the little troop set off, making their way out of the guild of shadows and into the city. The streets were still crowded as they passed toward the Defender's Guild. Few people even noticed their cloaked and robed burden. They entered into the building. "We should find the beds," Miril said, setting Crispian down. He headed upstaors, looking for the sleeping chambers. "We should find him a bed," Azi said to Miril, thinking of the broken man sitting at the bottom of the staris. "Aye, let's find him a bed," Miril said even as a near paniced scream of "Master, where are you?" drifted up the stairs. Miril sighed. "Come up the stairs, Crispian," he called down. A scowl crossed his face as he thought of what had to be done to reduce a man so, Azi and Miril had reached an area obviously for training and discussion. "Must be in the other building," Miril said as they headed through an archway. They headed back down the stairs and collected Crispian and Salor. Then, they started the trudge up the three flights of stairs to the let-out rooms in the Guild house. Crispian paused, looking at all the familiar sights. He KNEW this place. He hurried to catch up and nearly bumped into Azi. Terror flooded through him, and he cried out. "Keep her away from me, master," in a broken sob. Miril spun to see what was happening and barked out, "Crispian, come here!" In horror he watched as the young man scuttled over to him, Azi looked at Crispian sadly, but kept her distance as they continued on. Again, Crispian paused, examining a shield with a tower on a gold field, and a blue stripe beneath it. It was familiar, something nagging that he should know it. Miril stopped when he saw Tannir and looked about, "We lost him," he said looking around, then seeing Crispian at the end of the hallway. "There he is." Crispian turned to follow again and saw Azi. "MASTER?" he cried out desperately. Miril grabbed him, pushing Crispian behind him. "Stay close to me and I will protect you from her," he said, throwing Azi a puzzled look. Crispian pawed at Miril. "Thank you, master," he said, images of the pain, the woman, the hurt, welling in his mind. Miril walked up the short flight to the room rented by the League. "Come up these stairs," he instructed Crispian. Salor muttered "Your charge is a little slow in the head." Azi threw him a glare. "He is obviously very agitated. You two put him to bed and watch him close. I"ll get his aunt." Salor looked abuut. "How strainge, I recall sleeping here." Miril shook his cloak out against a wall. "Lay down here," he told Crispian. Tannir, coming into the area, saw them. "M'Lord!" he called in shock as he saw Crispian. Crispian started to get up, and Miril pushed him down. "Lay down, Crispian," he said gently. Tannir looked about at these two men. "What is wrong?" he asked. Miril settled an extra cloak over Crispian for a blanket, ignoring the squire. "We will watch him," he told Azi. "Go find his aunt." Crispian lay on the floor, curled on his side, clnging to one of Mirl's boots. That young voice. Who? Did he hurt Crispian? Fear welled up. "Master?" he gazed at Miril. Azi closed her eyes, reaching for the mind of Mirashta. "We've found Crispian. Come to the Defender's Guild as soon as possible!" she pressed the message through. Miril looked down at Crispian, smoothing his hair. "Shh," he said, as though to a child, "go to sleep." He c;eared his throat and sang softly. "Close your eyes; The night is here; The stars light the Way; The Moon is bright tonight; Protecting us from darkness;" and continued to watch until Crispian quieted into sleep, and then extracted himself from the hold on his boot. Taniir looked at the two men, and asked much quieter. "What happened to him?" Salor readied his staff again and shrugged. "No clue," he said, detached in thought. Tannir's eyes filled with rage at the strangers before him. "Tell me," he said, his voice rising. Miril raised a hand to the squire. "We do not know. Shh. He is sleeping." Taniir turned, fixing a stare at Miril. "LIAR!" he barked. Azi touched his arm gently. "Tannir, we found him, battered in the cellar of the Guild of Shadows. He insists on calling Miril 'master' and recoils from my touch." Her eyes spoke much of the sadness she felt. Miril looked at the young squire. "Tannir, go watch the door and cool off. Tell us if someone is coming." Salor, watching the swing in moods, wondered to himself if anyone in Crispian's League was sane. Tannir glared at Miril, still unsure what to think. "I hold you responsible for my lord!" he snapped. Azi felt a tendril of thought brush her mind and focused on the sending. "Milady!" she thought, a relief sweeping her. "After a long search, we found Crispian in the basement of the Guild of Shadows. He is in terrible shape. I didn't know what else to do with him but to bring him to the Defender's Guild." The reply was swift. "A moment dear" filled with vauge images of fighting. Azi turned to Tannir. "Please be calm. Remember what I told you at the Vault. We want to help. Now, can you show us a place where we can make him a but more comfortable?" Mirashta's thought-reply came at the end of her sentence and Azi split her attention for a moment. "Ye've found him? What kind of terrible shape?" Mirashta's thought asked. Tannir fixed Azi with a dread gaze, "I can care for him better than you!" he snapped, his young chin trembling in rage. Azi threw the fast thougth back to Mirshta, " Bruised and bloodied, incoherent," but could not stop Salor from flaring in temper. "Wow, an ungrateful sout," the friar said flatlly. Tannir turned to Salor, "Shut up, Monk!" he snapped. Azi looked at Tannir, "I'm sure you can. I never presumed to care for him. I wouldn't know where to begin, but sometimes things happen that are beyong one person's ability to help." Mirashta's thought stopped her from saying more "For now, make him comfortable. I'm on my way back to Lethantis now." Miril glared at Tannir. "Calm down, or I shall render you unconscious," he said flatly. "Your anger does not help us here. Silence, and the stairs," he griipped his sword hilt menacingly. Azi gave Miril a stern look. "Leave the boy alone. Be nice." Salor, thinking this could go badly, began to gather the power for a heal...or twelve, Tannir spat out "Dare!" to Miril as he glowered and stalked from the room. Azi looked at her friend in surprise and ran after the squire, calling "Tannir!" She found him a tthe top of the stairs. Tannir stood against the railing "What?" he said, his face full of misery. Azi looked at him in understanding. "Miril can be gruff sometimes," she said gentlye, "but we are just trying to help. I'm sorry." Tannir sighed heavily. "He is my heart and soul, Lady. Aid him if you can." His eyes welled to almost tears, but he did not let one roll down his cheek. Azi looked at Tannir, realising how much they had in common, "We shall, Tannir. I promise." With that, she turned to head back to her companions. Pausing, she thought to Mirashta, What should we do in the meantime?" Mirashta:replied "Make sure he still has the talisman he was wearing around his neck. I'll be working on a solution, I hope, with the mages at Lethantis, shortly" On the roof top where all had happened, Miril pulled his own cloak tighter and looked down at Crispian. "Even in the rain he sleeps. He must be exsausted" Azi, rushed to Crispian, and looked for the talisman without touching him. It gleamed upon his chest. She sighed in relief. As she looked up, she just caught Salor arching an eyebow at her. She returned his ;ppled/ "His aunt is on her way to Lethantis and then coming here. She said to make sure he still has the talisman around his neck, and he does." Salor nodded slowly, accepting the wizardly means of communication. "The talisman?" he asked, clearly wanting to know more. Azi shook her head. "I don't know, she just said to make sure he has it." Her look was confused but resigned to these things. Salor shrugged and nodded accepctence. He looked out on the sky as the earlly moon rose, passing from the Hiberian horizon into Albion. The sphere gave a slight glow, and Salor looked down as Azi gasped and pointed. "Look!" she exclaimed. Slowly, Crispian opened his eyes, looking up. The glaze was gone and they were agin claer and gray. "Azi?" he croaked out in a dry voice. "I want one that does that," Salor quipped. Azi dropped to her knees, calling "Tannir! Come here!" Crispian's head moved about, taking in the faces of these three allies, and his squire. "Salor?" he asked, for he did not know the red friar himself. Salor inclined his head, 'Milord.'" Crispian let out a small gasp and ginned sickly, "I am no Lord." Azi recoled, "Crispian?" she asked again. He smiled at her weakly, "Azi?" Salor flashed a brief smile, "You look like hell," he deadpanned. Crispian grimaced, "Well, I feel like shit," he said weakly. Miril looked about, feeling slighhtly out of place. "Well, looks like everything is better i must be on my way. Hope you get to feeling better, Crisp." He clapped the armsman on the shoulder. Crispian looked at his new friend. "My thanks, and I hope so as well," he said, even as Miril faded away into the shadows, and disappered. Azi nodded, "Thank you Miril," she said as her friend faded, then turned to Crispian. "What happened?" Crispian shuddered and pushed down a feeling of naseau. "Let it be for now," he said, meeting the young wizard's gaze as she nodded solemnly. Crispian looked to Salor,."Brother, I beg foreveness," his serious tone let the firar know what he meant. Sakir nodded, "Of course, it is given, without stipulation. But confession, they say, clears the soul." He fixed the young lord with a firm stare. Crispian closed his eyes. "Brother, can I spare the details for the moment?" he asked in a slightly pained voice. Saklor nodded again. "It is yours to tell, as you want it, friend," he said kindly. "At a later time, brother," Crispian said, "But for now, your blessings please." "Given," Salor said as he made a holy sign over Crispian. WIth a great sigh, Crispian leaned back. "My thanks, brother." Azi put a hand on Crispian's shoulder, cautiously, as she knelt beside him. "Sir, I hope you remain quite yourself. Tannir is here now. He shall care for you. I must go. I've negelected my own affairs too long tongiht," she said with a shy smile. Tannir, stepping forward, offered Crispian a wan smile, "I have your armor, Lord." Crispian smiled at Azi. "Good Lady, you have given much for me!" Azi smiled back. "Nothing more than what you deserve, as friend to my guild and myself." Salor arched an eyebrow. "If the Lady Azi is no longer in danger, I shall be off for a bit. My head seems to have exploded." Still looking at Azi, Crispian grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I shall never forget. But leave me plesae with Tannir, until Auntie returns. You have my thanks." Salor, rising, bowed to Crispian and he returned a saltue to the friar. "Good day, mi'lord," Salor said as he departed. Azi blushed violently and took her hand away. "Call on me again. I shall be happy to help you." Crispian nodded gravely. "Thank you, Lady Azi. I shall repay the favor, and the deed!" he said solemnly. Azi stood and curtseyed, then turned to Tannir, pattying him upon the arm. "You're in good hands, Crispian." Recalling the horrors of the past night, Crispian nodded. "Aye, to your thanks, Azi." Azi blushed again and turned, gradually making her way down the stairs, and back out into the city. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	As she made her way hastily back to her father's house, Azi reflected on the events that had passed. So many questions, she thought. But was this the end of Crispian's pain? -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn lay back on a couch. The crystal on the table was dark now, thankfully. "Sweet Rhiannon," he murrmured, "That was truely vile. Thanks be that his friends found him. Hopefully his aunt can do something." -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian awoke the next morning to a splitting headache. He barely could shift through the horrors of the night before, but his head was clear for the first time in days. (more later) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian awoke with a great pounding in his head, but found his body healed in full. He could not recall all the events of the night before, but the horrors he did remember made him shudder and nearly wretch. He held his head in his hands for a few minutes before rising and rinsing his face at the basin. Today had to be better than yesterday. Pulling on padded tunic and trousers, he began strapping armor into place as Tannir entered, bowing slightly. â€œLord, I brought some repast. You have slept heavy these last two days.â€ The young squire placed a platter of meats, cheese, and fruit on the cot. â€œFeeling better, milord?â€ He looked closely at Crispian, watching for some sigh of the events of two days past. â€œTwo days, Tan?â€ Crispian asked, stunned that he had slept so long, and so hard. â€œTwo days,â€ he repeated as he ate hungrily from the platter. â€œWell, what news, then Tannir?â€ He chewed as his squire placed the plate leggings on him. â€œThere is word from the Guardians of Val San Retour of a hunt to Lyn Barfog, and Sir Leftie reports heavy siege supplies laid in, Lord.â€ Tannir smiled to himself, pleased to see Crispian returned to his normal business-like manner. â€œLyn Barfog?â€ Crispian commented, as a lance of pain hit his mind. He closed his eyes, remembering the touch of Azi, the prayers of Salor, and the kindness of Miril. â€œI shall attend, tell them. And make ready from rations, for I shall stay some days there. I have business there I think.â€ A vision of Dâ€™Vena in a windowless chamber moving figures about was suddenly in his mind. â€œMany days, perhaps,â€ he amended. It took about an hour for all to be made ready, and Crispian spent the time busily. He sat on the high stool that was comfortable to use when clad in full armor and wrote. He despised his poor hand with the quill and wished Jashen were here to write it out. His hand was firmer, clearer. He sighed as he looked at the letters and began signing them and closing them with seals. Time, he felt, to face this malady head-on for a change. â€œLord General Arguyle MacFadden, Order of the Red Lions; Hail and Greetings, friend to Albion, and myself. I am in fair mind as I write this, but forgive any lapses within. As ye know, I have been sore afflicted these past weeks due to a mutual acquaintance. I beg thee to contact my aunt, Lady Mirashta Wynter, if ye can be of assistance. I trust her judgement, skill, and knowledge to ferret out some aid in this matter. Crispian Pontiffâ€ â€œDearest Auntie, I know I have caused ye sore pain over these past days and not been myself. I beg forgiveness and help. You know the ways of Magic and all that more than I ever could hope to, but you know how my efforts at learning came along! Iâ€™m still sorry for the dog. I am leaving for Lyn Barfog this morn, as there are things I must seek there. Please donâ€™t worry more than usual. Darnyk shall be with me. Crisâ€ â€œLady Azi Icemistress, I thank you for your aid, unlooked for and so strongly given. I am embarrassed at the state in which you found me, and plead for you to press the image from your mind. You are a credit to Albion, to Wizards, and to your fair sex. Such bravery and sacrifice is rare in any. You have my eternal thanks and the dedication of my blade, should ye ever need to call on it. Sir Crispian Pontiff Seneschal of the West, Saint Crispinâ€™s Leagueâ€ â€œBrother Salor, care of Ye Mug, I hope this missive finds you well, brother. I ask your prayers as I go forth. I have entrusted some gold to the barkeep for your meditative use. Crispianâ€ Sealing the letters, he passed them to Tannir. â€œGet these delivered today, Tan.â€ He strapped his back-up sword, repaired from the pygmy battles, across chest, and took up his shield, then set it aside. â€œOne more, Tannir. A moment.â€ Dragging parchment forth, he set quill to page. His hand shook at first, then he wrote firmly. â€œTobyas, I have heard of your devotions to the Church and wish you well in that life. May the light of Albion and the aid of the League be with you always. With fond regard, Crispianâ€ This he sealed with his undeferenced sigil. Jaw set in a firm line; he took up his shield and sword, nodding thanks to Tannir. â€œI canâ€™t repay your dedication, Tannir, and I am the poorer man for that,â€ he told his squire. â€œYou have been faithful beyond call. Thank you,â€ he finished, pulling barrel helm on to hide the tears welling in his eyes. Striding out of the room and the building, he did not see the wash of concern come over Tannirâ€™s face. â€œBe well, good Sir,â€ the squire said quietly. Then, tears rolling on his cheeks, he cleaned up the chamber for Crispianâ€™s return. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	As Azi sat at her desk, the faint humming of her mother's voice wafted up the stairs. She read Crispian's letter again, blushing deeply at his praise, and thought back to the previous nights and weeks. So much had happened in her life recently, so many wonderful and horrible things. She had been welcomed into the League, and taken up her field studies once again. It had been a few weeks since her parents' happy reunion, and Crispian's plight had been a welcome distraction to her disturbing nightmares, although worrysome. She took up her quill and began to write an answer to Crispian's note in graceful, even script. Milord, I hope that this response finds you well. It was duelly a pleasure and an honor to be of assistance. Should you need any aid in the future, in research or in any other fashion, please to not hesitate to call on me again. Azi Reading the note over and finding it a bit too formal, she added: I look forward to seeing you and Tannir again, please send him my greetings. With that, she rolled up the parchment, tied it with a length of soft blue ribbon, and sent it off. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Thudding heals in horse, Crispian robe north to Snowdonia station. On the field before the waystation, a vast group was gathered of Guardian of Val San Retour, a few Leaguers, and some Wessex. He grinned in pride at this assembling of the Alliance. They formed their lines and set out to hunt, deep in Lyn Barfog. Diamondback toads, and other fiends, fell before the combined skill, might and spells of the assembly. The air crackled with power, and quips, as they hunted on, moving swiftly like an avenging force of god and, for a time, clearing the land of the great evils spawned there. With the setting of the sun, many retired to the station, for repast and company. Crispian found a small glade and camped there. He was much acustomed to sleep in armor and had even over the years figured out the exact why to fold a spare cloak atop his shield to relieve neck cramps in the morning, not that waking after such a night was pleasant ever. He massaged his neck, shook out the tightness and geared up again. Today, he would look for Dâ€™Vena on his own. He had not seen Carrington or Moryan in days and only had the one, brief, bitter exchange with Arguyle. The fog clung to the ground, obscuring vision as he set out. The sun, slow creeping over the horizon, burned if off. Toward midmorning, he passed through a burn out village, recent from the looks of it. The dead were exposed to the sun, and the stench of death was strong. He moved around the edge, carefully skirting the core of the destruction. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian spent the day scouting the area, looking for any accessible sign of some type of structure, but all he found was the trade village, the ruined monastery. Nothing that could be gotten to that might be a haven for the vile witch. Spending another night in his armor, he made his way to Snowdonia station and thence to Camelot. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	He passed through the North Gate, rested and refreshed, oddly enough for having been afield three days hunting D'Vena. He was smiling as he passed the church, turning to head toward the defenders. Children were playing and laughing all about, people bustled on business and the city hummed alive. He stopped in his favorite garden with the large stone in the center. He loved the engravings here. Camelot, capitol and more of Albion. A true symbol. He wend his way out of the garden and thought about going to the forge for a moment, but decided a bath and a meal would be better first, so he turned toward the Defender's. If only their Guild House purchase would be approved! He was passing a small alley that ran off into the Guild of Shadows when he heard it. A voice. THE voice from that night. It hissed and rasped. He'd never forget that sound. Terror nibbled at his mind. "What's your name?" it asked. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. The Elven crystal was there, he knew it. Under his breastplate. He stumbled, mind reeling as laughter followed the voice. He stumbled on, shoulder against the wall. He staggered on, each step a chore. The laughter echoed in the vaults of his mind. At Ye Mug, he stopped, slapped a gold piece down on the bar top. "Ale!" he gasped, grey eyes wide. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	With a sigh, the barkeep tapped out an ale and set it on the counter, sweeping the gold piece into a box. He turned and cleaned a section of bar, signalling the serving girl to him. In a hushed voice, he told her, "Find that young mage girl, and Lady Wynter. If not her, young Tannir the squire. Ye know, the one you eye over when stops for a topper of ale." He grinned at her as she blushed. "Go on now, lass, and be quick if ye will!" Crispian set the empty tankard down and signalled for more, even as the voices echoed in his mind. --------------------------------------- Jashen had made good an escape from the city, for things were getting just too strange. He loved his brother, but these past few days had been bizarre indeed, even by his own standards. He went deep into Mithra's Tomb and stayed for a time, using battle and slaughter to clear his mind, focusing on the sweet hiss of his swords through the air. ---------------------------------------- In a deep fortress in Lyn Barfog, D'Vena stroked a gold-haired figure. "You will crawl to me for release I promise you!" ---------------------------------------- The Tower Library at the Retreat had been reknown for some time as a repository of great knowledge, and the poor scribes had been digging for three days when one of them found a scroll, bound in vermillion silk, that he thought might contain something of us. With a heaving chest, he rushed to the Lady Arienne. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas sat watching the sun wester at the Downs. The crumpled letter was in his hand. Tears wet his cheeks. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Worried, Azi rushed through the crowded streets toward Ye Mug. She knew he was liable to start up again, but she hadn't thought it'd be so soon... -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian lowered the mug of ale and closed his eyes, steeling himself to turn around. The look of the barkeep had told him something or someone was behind him, and he turned. She looked so refined, he thought. Poised, holding herself with grace. And anger. He dropped his eyes, adding another failure to his mental list. "I'm shorry Azhi," he drolled. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi shook her head, disappointed. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and resting a hand on Crispian's shoulder, she managed a soft smile. She gently took the mug from his hand and placed it on the bar, throwing a grateful glance at the barkeep. "Come on, Crispian, let's go talk," she said softly. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	With bent head, he followed her, looking more like a scolded child than a powerful warrior, a knight of the Realm. He walked through the twilit streets watching her. A part of his mind wondered what his mother had been like, a calmness coming from that, even as maddening laughter gibbered from other parts of his mind. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Her newly emblazoned cloak flapped gently with each step as Azi led poor Crispian through the streets. Thinking of the stories she'd been told of his glorious battles and fearless leadership, she vowed to herself that she would soon see the young lord restored. He seemed a just and fair warrior from the stories she'd heard, she thought, almost like her father. But her father never turned to the drink, even after all he'd been through... Azi sighed, wondering exactly where she was going to bring the poor soul. Certainly not to her father's house, or to the Academy. Up ahead, the Church stood proudly, casting a long shadow before it. Of course. It was the perfect place for a quiet talk, she thought. Perhaps the perfect place for him to finally find some peace. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The steed reared to a stop at the stables of the east gates, and Tobyas slid off the horse with the ease of someone who had been riding for most of his life, which was close to true. The hood of his cloak was high, shielding him from the rain and wind as he hustled through the gate. He made his way through the streets and entered into the cathederal through a postern entrance. He was making his way toward Lady Winchell when he saw them. The wizard and Crispian. He was too close to stop as he locked eyes with the young lord. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian looked at the young cleric, his throat going dry of a sudden. "Tobyas," he said with a stiff and formal tone and a bow. "Ye come here to train?" He felt his pulse quicken as the lad bowed back, coppery bright hair agleam in the candle light. "Aye, Lord, I came to seek out Lady Winchell." Tobyas replied with equal formality. "Permit me attend this busiess," he said stiffly and, bowing, moved on. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi blushed awkwardly as she watched the stiff exchange between the two men. She watched Tobyas, trying to give him an encouraging look before he walked away. She thought of the day that she saw him on the riverbank outside of Camelot. She remembered thier short conversation, and the pain the young cleric had felt. When Crispian turned back to her, she raised an eyebrow at him reprovingly. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian felt color rising in his face and just nodded curtly. "A new member of the League," he muttered, moving deeper into the cathederal, his head beginning to clear from the effects of the ale. A chior of monks was keeping the vigil and their low chant drifted in the air as sweetly as the incense. Looking toward the corner where Brother Michael healed all who came, Crispian scoffed. What good was the man to him? A healer's touch had brought no aid from that which stalked his mind, and he doubted any could. Stepping through the door into the cathederal garden, Crispian leaned against a stone railing, bracing himself for what he was imagining to be worse than a rush of tanglers, or deamons from Darkness Falls. He mentally took a stance while trying to remain appearing relaxed. "You said you wanted to talk?" he ventured quietly, recalling the last time he had seen Azi, and how she had seen him. He almost blanched, but fixed his jaw firmly and met her steady gaze. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi followed her friend into the garden, his sudden change in disposition startled her. She was cautious, but not frightened or suprised as she leaned on the rail beside him. She had dealt with her father's madness for so long that she knew she could handle this situation well enough. "I wanted to talk, yes," she started quietly, not knowing exactly what to say. When she had gone to find him, her main objective had been to keep him from drinking... "Rather, I wanted you to talk," she said quietly. "Milord, I don't pretend to know what has happened to you. I don't pretend to know how to begin to help." Azi tried to keep her voice at agentle tone. "I do know that your recent habits of drinking will do nothing for you, but to push aside your troubles, even add to them, only to have to deal with them another day." She looked for his reaction, but his eyes only grew colder, more distant. She touched his arm gently. "As I said, I don't pretend to know how to help you. But we both agree I've seen you at one of the darkest times in your life. Sometimes a listening ear will not solve a problem, but it can help to lift some of the weight of the burden." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian let an explosive sigh out and looked heavenward. He did not want to touch what he held in his mind, did not want to risk what might happen if he let it forth. He shook his head, an ironic grin on his face. "Azi, we came to know each other through events in your life, what,a few months past? Tatyanna's respect for you confirmed my suspicions. But this," he gripped the railing firmly, "this is ... more than I can ask another to take on... or expose them to. This," he breathed in a shuddering breath, "rage, this hatred," he hissed through clenched teeth, "is so consuming, so filling," his voice became stern, lowering to a whisper, "that it can only sometimes even be held in check." He turned smoldering gray eyes on her. "Do you really want to share THIS?" he almost shouted, slamming balled fists against his head. ----------------------------------------- Deep in the fastness of her hold, D'Vena peered into the milky dome which enclosed the small gold hair figure. She watched the glowing movement of other small, conjured figures on the glass surface and grinned. If he would not break, and the other two seemed unreachable, perhaps these others. "Yes, show us more," she chuckled, stroking the dome with a clawed hand. "Show us, my little pawn, so you can have playmates!" An insane cackling ripped from her mouth as she collapsed back into her high-backed chair, a froth of spittle dappling her lips as she laughed. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi jumped as Crispian slammed his fist to his head, he was beginning to frighten her. She was shaking from this display, from seeing him in so much turmoil. Her mind raced as she tried to think of something, anything she could do to help. She wondered where all of the man's friends were, she was so new to the League that she was unsure of who was even available there..aside from Lady Mirashta.. She reached up and took fist gently, closing her hands around it. "I don't know what to say, Milord..." she said shakily, "Except that I think it's important for you to surround yourself with friends at all times. You may feel that you're protecting others by barring this evil inside of yourself. In reality, you cannot defeat this alone. You need the support of those who care for you, at all times I think. Until someone finds a way to stop your agony." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian's hand relaxed in hers and he looked again to the sky as clouds scudded across the star lit darkness. "This...pain...it hammers, Azi, always. I have fought no foe less kind than this. None!" He swallowed hard to keep control of himself. "Nor one more ruthless." He eyes blinked rapidly to keep tears from coming, for he had enough of those. "I thank you," he said, kissing her hand. A flash of Moryan's face crossed his mind as he did so, recalling a tavern so long ago it seemed. "Please, stay with me this night, as a friend?" -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi drew her hand away, blushing slightly at his gesture. "Yes," she said after some contemplation, "I will sit with you. As a friend." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	They sat in quiet at the railing, and at some point Crispian sat down, leaning against the outer wall of the church and drifted to sleep, still holding Azi's hand tenderly. The dream came as it had sometimes. A raging fire, the beams falling, being carried out of the manse as it was consumed. Arguyle, broken and bleeding, being healed, and healing energy flowing through Crispian. Jashen and Tannir there, as always, brother-of-blood and near-brother, attending his wounds. And Her, being led in bonds, then hands free, a spell, the stun of it hitting him, and then a lassitude. The visions following were a tumult, a cascading of failures and losses. The deaths, the times the shield was too slow to block a blow that a friend took. The times standing while Oaklief, Mirashta or Darnyk were dead. The disasterous retreat toward the Milegate from Bledmeere Faste,when Arguyle, Kalfear and Edeor all fell before Crispian did, as Midgard warriors swarmed them under. And then, the respite. Her. D'Vena, pale and naked upon a settee, arms stretched, wine chilled, expectant. And the revulsion at that image that was almost physical, bringing instead the image of Tobyas, in pale morning light, tusseled hair. Fire. Rushing gouts of flame, flight down that hallway as beams collapsed. Slamming into Arguyle's back to push the massive highlander lord out of the way. His fault the pig-farmer lived. And Moryan, warning her of all that was happening. His fault again that she was free and in love. His fault. So his punishment. Leaning in sleep, Crispian twitched and groaned occasionally, as a sad-eyed Azi looked on, honoring a pledge of friendship. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	From the shadowed doorway, he watched them. Their quiet whispers, raised voices, Crispian's head-hitting, and then the tender hand-hold. He watched as they settled to the flagstones, and Crispian drifted to sleep. Still, she held his hand. Blinking tears, Tobyas stood, watching them. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	She held his hand still, kneeling beside him as he slept. His expression twitched occasionally, occasionally he jerked or groaned in his sleep. Sighing sadly, she watched the moon rise slowly in the sky, casting its blue light across the flagstones. As quietly as she could, she slipped her hand from his and shifted on the hard stone. A slight movement in the doorway caught her eye as she stretched her sore neck. She squinted into the darkness and saw him watching. A pang of sorrow touched her heart as she remembered the cold exchange between the two men. She realized what he must be thinking, seeing her there with Crispian. "Hail, Tobyas," she whispered softly. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Hesitantly, he stepped from the shadows. The soft soles of his boots hissed on the paving stones. He bowed, the robe he wore swirling as he did so. "Good Lady Azi," he said quietly. "I see you also know my Liege, Crispian." He was glad for the low light of the moon, for it hid the color that rose in his cheeks. "I meant not to disturb you." -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi smiled sadly. "Disturb us?" she whispered, waving her hand. "Nonsense. Crispian is going through a bit of a troubled time. I'm pleased to have someone to talk with to pass the hours while I stay with him." She watched as the handsome lad's eyes wandered to her sleeping friend and rested there. "That is, if you care to stay and talk," she smiled softly. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	He felt his cheeks warm as another blush rose, and shyly nodded. "I have no pressing obligations, Lady," he said quietly, indicating a recessed bench near to where Crispian slept. He sat, tucking his legs up under his robe and leaning against the wall. He wondered just how much Azi knew, or had guessed. The fact that she was a wizard gave him no pause, but every woman he had known seemed to have deep flashes of insight about matters of the heart. "You say he is having a troubled time. This has been spoken of in the League's hall a time or two, but none care to speak much on it." He watched the dark-shadows of the hedges move as the moon slid behind a cloud. "I fear I may be part of the cause." -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian groaned in his sleep. Azi shifted nearer to him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. She watched him for a moment, his breathing calmed at her touch. She turned back to Tobyas. "Why do you say that?" she asked quietly, following his gaze to the shadows of the garden. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	With a near shudder, he swallowed, loud enough for Azi to hear in the silent garden. His gaze went distant for a moment. With a sigh, he began. "Lord Crispian is responsible for my station, as it is today, Lady Azi. Twas he who...bought my freedom from endentured servitude," he paused, lacing his fingers together and placing them on his lap. "I was he with whom Crispian spent a night in the Guild of Shadow's quarter. I, I think there was some sort of visitor that night, but I don't recall." He smiled as he recalled that night, near to three weeks ago now, or longer? "He is a, um, gentle companion compared with some. But when I awoke in the morn, he was gone. He left a note, some gold, a ring and instructions to find his squire. I did as he asked, then joined the church as an Acolyte, and after that, the League." He paused, the smile having faded as he talked. Now, a slight scowl decorated his face. "I have seen him but twice since, and the last he was deep in his cups, but warmer than he was this day." He raised a hand to wipe a tear away. "I fear he blames me, in some way, for all that has happened since." -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi blushed as Tobyas revealed his story to her. She had only recently known Crispian, as the troubled young lord. It warmed her heart to hear that even through such a difficult time he would offer his help to another with such kindness. In her heart she knew that the old Crispian was still alive inside the troubled shell now sleeping beside her. She gazed at Tobyas, the poor soul. If only he knew that Crispian's troubles went much deeper than either of them could imagine... She sat for a moment, watching the breeze rustle the young cleric's hair, thinking of the best way to word what she wanted to say. "Tobyas," she said softly, "Crispian does not act of his own free will. Something haunts him, something unnatural. I don't know what it is...except that it is powerful magic. He has not been himself, and I am almost certain he doesn't blame you." -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Allowing silent tears to roll down his cheeks, Tobyas gave a rueful laugh. "I have so heard, Lady. But I cannot help but feel myself even to some measure bearing a burden of the blame. Perhaps it is best that I felt a call for the Church." He leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the black expanse of sky, dappled with clouds. "But how I feel for him, and what we share," he said in a dead whisper, "are prescribed by law, and punishable, even in the face of enchantment." He raised his hands and wiped his face dry. "And I have enchantment not as an excuse, for it is but how I feel." -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Crispian shuddered restlessly. Resting a cheek on her knee, she contemplated Tobyas' words. She didn't know how to comfort him, for he was right. She sighed inwardly at the ridiculous thought of being punished for feeling. She admitted to herself that she did not understand how one man could love another man so, but it was not her place to judge. She sat in silence, waiting politely for Tobyas' tears to subside, thinking of his description of the night he shared with Crispian. The Guild of Shadows...she thought. A visitor... "Tobyas, are you certain you can't recall anything of the visitor you mentioned?" She asked suddenly, her voice a bit louder than it should have been. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The sudden shift from the wallowing in self-pity he had started jolted Tobyas. The visitor. His eyebrows nettled in thought as he ran a hand through his coppery-red hair, fingers lightly brushing the coin-sized tonsure. "I think not, Lady." He bit his lower lip in thought a moment. "Crispian arrived somewhere near the nineth hour I think." He laughed slightly. "I was releived to see he was a handsome young man," he dropped his eyes for a moment, "as you can imagine most that come to such places are not. We, uh, well, were, ah, together, and I recall drifting off as the watch called eleventh hour clear." He paused, closing his eyes and reconstructing it. That horrid little room, so squalid, the narrow, hard cot. The smaller Crispian lying in the crook of his arm as they slept. "YES!" he hissed excitedly. "Yes, there was someone. The room was dark except for a small candle, and Crispian had almost shouted something that woke me. Then, just as I was drifting, I heard a noise, feint but there. And," he shook his head, "someone must have knocked me out at that point or something. By the Almighty, I did have a headache in the morning like we had been drinking rather than," he stopped and shook his head, "well, like we had been drinking." He peered closely at Azi, "Why is this important now?" -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	As Azi raised her voice, Cripsian stirred. He looked around the burning hallway. He knew that voice, that was a good voice. Other voices hissed at him, tormenting phrases, questions that hurt him to think about answering. He shrank against the wall in fear, hearing above all the laughter, the wild, insane laughter that seemed everywhere. Then another voice. A voice he knew, recalled some clearly. He turned, moving deeper down the hall. If he could maybe find those voices... -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi frowned and shook her head. The moon had fallen low to the horizon as they spoke, lightening the sky to a purplish hue. So many fragmented pieces of Crispian's plight floated in her head, but none of them fit together enough to make any sense. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and pulled her cloak around her, shivering in the damp pre-dawn breeze. "I don't know that it is important at all, sir," she said aloud, too tired to think on it any longer. She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and looked down at Crispian. He stirred, and she rubbed his arm gently, looking at Tobyas again. "Tell me, do you know where to find Lord Tannir or Lady Mirashta?" -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	He nodded. "Aye, Lady Winter is hunting with her husband, I believe in Lyonesse, and young Tannir has been working in the Vault with Father Camlin on the League treasury." Tobyas quietly crossed to Azi, settling next to her cross-legged. He allowed himself a moment to look at Crispian and smiled, blushing knowing Azi saw the smile. Slowly, his smile turned to a scowl. "What's that ring? He had it not the night we ma...met," he said, catching himself with a smirk. "I'm quite sure that is some new item." -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi took up Crispian's hand in hers, turning it gently to look at the ring. She could not remember if it had been there when they had last met. She looked at Tobyas and shrugged, but the look on his face was insistent. Gently, Azi slipped the ring off of the young lord's finger to have a better look. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn watched the crystal in front of him. He shook his head ruefully as he listened to first Crispian and Azi, and then Azi and Tobyas. "I pity the poor lad. Humans have always made love difficult." He listened as Tobyas related his memories of the night Crispian was with him. "Dammit," Ayslyn muttered to himself, "I'll have to work on my potions. I must be slipping, to have him remembering anything about my visit." He watched as they discussed the ring, and as Azi slipped it off Crispian's finger and examined it. The finely detailed willow on a silver band of twined ivy. "Oh dear. Best be careful with that lass. If the wrong people see that, and understand what it is... That could be trouble for the lad." He sat back and watched, and waited. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi turned the ring around in her fingers. It was strange, a warrior wearing such a delicate ring.. It almost reminded her of some of the Hibernian illuminations she'd seen in an old tome somewhere. She slowly slipped it back on Crispian's finger and looked at Tobyas. "I don't think it holds any magic," she said thoughtfully, shrugging again. Crispian stirred as she patted his hand gently. She yawned softly and stretched her stiff back. "It's almost morning, perhaps I should wake him.." -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas peered at the ring, noting the slender, delicate willow-image worked into the silver. His mother had worn something similar, commented about bringing it home from Emain. He frowned in thought. "Aye, Lady, tis almost daybreak, and Lauds is nearly upon us." He rose, smoothing the monk's robe over his frame and stretching. "I had best be away before he wakes. It would be best," he said with a tight smile. "Thank you for your graticiousness and time." He gave her a solemn bow and smiled again before leaving the garden, entering the cloister gate. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi smiled sadly as Tobyas left. She sighed, fearing she hadn't been helpful in easing his mind or his heart. She looked down at Crispian, sleeping soundly in the dawning light. It seemed a shame to wake him, but her vigil on the hard stones had left her stiff and tired. He had slept peacefully for the most part, she thought, and without the aid of drink. For that she was glad. "Crispian," she called softly, patting his shoulder gently, "milord, tis morning.." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The flames well leaping all about and the beam on his back pinned him firmly. The heat was becoming more and more intense. A mocking voice whispered that with a word, release from all the pain would come, a renewal of life, but there was a tinge of something vile to that offer. But the pain, the anguish was so much, ripping and rending at the very fibers of his mind. As he opened cracked, sorched lips to plead for that release, he heard a voice, "Crispian, milord its morning." The voice was sweet, holding no offers of release but carrying no fright. His eyes flew open as he pulled in a great breath. He grabbed Azi about the shoulders, clinging to her. "Thank God it's you," he mumbled into her shoulder. His chest heaved in great panting breaths for a moment, then settled as his pulse slowed. Why had D'vena used the manse and the fire? "I was having a bad dream," he explained, levering himself up against the railing. He smiled shyly at Azi. She looked a wreck, tired, deep smudges under her eyes. "Let me get us breakfast, as a thank you," he offered, crooking his arm at the elbow for her hand. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	At the mention of breakfast, Azi's stomach growled loudly. She managed a smile and pushed herself to her feet. She stretched her arms to relieve a knot in her tired shoulders, and made a vain attempt to smooth her wrinkled robes. Straightening her cloak, she gingerly slipped her hand into Crispian's offered elbow. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian placed his sword-hand over Azi's as they walked from the garden into the waking streets of Camelot. His back was ram-rod straight and he looked every inch the warrior-knight escorting a fine lady of the Realm, even if she were slightly taller. A slight swagger in his step and commoners moved out of the way. He winked playfully at Azi, his spirits high and confidence returned, even if there was a slight air of haunting about him. As they passed a clot of boys rough-housing in the morning light, Crispian fixed them with a stern gaze, making sure they saw Azi. He nodded grimly at the tallest of the group. He knew what these lads were like, and had seen how they treated Azi from time to time when she made her lone way to the Academy compound. He bought two sweet nut rolls and scotch-eggs from a vendor, passing one of each to Azi. "I hope I did not cause you much trouble during the night, Azi. I must confess, you were often in my dreams," he said, hiding a blush by wiping his face. "But not in an ignoble way," he rushed to add, losing the battle of complexion badly, going red to the ears. "And I do thank ye." -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi smiled brightly as she watched her friend strut through the streets, exuding confidence. She giggled at her former classmates' wide-eyed stared as he paraded her past them. The sweet nut roll melted in her mouth as she nibbled at it thoughtfully, listening to him talk of his dream. Dreaming of her? She laughed inwardly. Surely he was just flattering her as a grateful friend. A smile stretched her lips. "Dreaming of me, Crispian?" she teased gently, "And you woke with such a jolt? Am I that frightening?" -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	He smiled at that, a bit forlorn perhaps. "No, gentle Azi, not you." He finished the egg and bought two mugs of milk from the diary man, avoiding the sweet Breakfast Ale being offered from a keg not five feet away. "I dreamed about the night that..." he paused, swallowing milk and fear, "she was taken in the raid. Twas the last time I saw Moryan or Carrington, and but one of the last times I saw Arguyle." Even though fear glinted in his eyes, he pressed on. "It was morning, just at dawn, when the whole place just...burned to the ground. Arguyle and I charged in to the building like two pygmy goblins caught wind of a Paladin. The whole place started to collapse and I shoved Arguyle from a beam, that landed on me," he grinned, bobbing his head slightly. "It wasn't much of a saving move, since I pushed him under another section of falling roof." He traced the wall top with his eyes, the grey stone against blue sky, as the scene played back in his mind. "Then some Red Lions were carrying me out of the place, and clerics were going about healing. The King was shouting orders, and D'Vena was captured. I, I think her husband is Arguyle's brother or something and they parted badly, D'Vena and he, that is." He paused, playing with the heavy gold signet ring. With a deep exhale, he pressed on. "She was being led away when she worked the spell. It was so fast, just a few motions and some strange words." He jawline shifted from a pulsing muscle, clench and loosening. "But I felt it hit me, like an arrow. Then the pain passed, and I thought it was gone." He avoided meeting her eyes, for if he did, surely he could not press on. "But, the pain," he squinted into the sun, letting it fill his vision with burnt umber to keep his mind from bringing up other pictures. "The pain is there, almost always," his voice was low, a frown stretching the corners of his mouth down. "Always except, except when I drink, or," he let out an exasperated sigh, "kill, or, well," he glanced aside at her, "I think you can guess on the last." With a small grimace, he took her hand again, setting on his elbow and started to walk, less someone hear too much. "And your company seems to ease it some," he smiled at her. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Gliding quietly behind them in a deeply cowled hood, Tobyas watched them together, jealousy mixing with pride. His confusion was warring within him. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi frowned as Crispian confessed to her the events leading to his torture. She listened in silence to the description of D'vena's curse. Going over the description and his symptoms in her head, she grew silent. Slowly, she remembered a passage from her research. She stopped short in the middle of the street, gripping Crispian's arm tightly. "Milord," she whispered, "I've read of this curse... Where is D'vena now?" -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	He looked at her oddly. "Lyn Barfog, in her manse. I'm sure of that." His face grew grim. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi frowned. "I thought you said she was captured?" She thought a moment, trying to remember what she had read. "In any case, milord, I've read through over two hundred tomes of curses," she blushed deeply as Crispian gave her a questioning look, "for personal reasons. If yours is the curse I remember, then to lift it..." She stopped a moment to think. She hated to say it if she was wrong, she had only vaguely remembered what she had read, and with what little description she had, she could not be certain. She whispered almost inaudibly, "You must kill her..." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian started to laugh, "Kill he..." His brows nettled together, and his teeth gritted together. His eyes pressed tightly shut, fingers clenched, one hand grabbed Azi's as it had been covering it. Knees buckled as he sank to the road. "She w-w-won't let that happen," he croaked out, his throat constricting, and collapsed to the ground. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Panic-stricken, Azi looked around frantically as Crispian's collapse drew the gazes of passersby, stopping them. She dropped to her knees beside him and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him gently. "Milord, please..please, I'm sorry!" She patted his face gently, "get up," she whispered pleadingly. A pair guardsmen eyed the display from the wall, a small crowd was beginning to gather. Azi blushed a deep red. "A little too much ale," she lied, forcing a nervous laugh. The crowd murmured and slowly wandered away, the guardsmen rolled thier eyes. "Get 'im off the street lass." One of them called out. Azi blushed deeper, shaking Crispian again. "Crispian, please..." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian lay on the pavement as Azi shook him, gently trying to wake him. The mere thought of harming Dâ€™Vena had brought terror striking at him, and his mind had shut down. The searing images she had dredged up flooded into every venue they could find in his mind, not seeping like so often in the past, but cascading in like wave battering at the foundation of a flooding house. Failures, rejections, regrets all came to the forefront of his mind in one Tsunami like wave of pressure and pain. Blackness brought sweet oblivion. In her fastness in Lyn Barfog, Dâ€™Vena watched the tableau play out. She smirked at the gentleness of the young wizardress. Nothing came of such gentleness, she thought bitterly. She knew that well. Mithain, Arguyle, Moryan. All had sought to rob her through their â€˜gentleâ€™ and â€˜nobleâ€™ means. Moreover, this stripling of a man had thought to take arms with them, using his guile, charms, and looks to disarm her. She shuddered, pressing palms to her face. Her beauty was not so faded that she should have fallen for such a ploy, yet she had. And she knew that his gentle attentions were indeed sweet, even intoxicating. A warriorâ€™s stamina tempered with scholarly upbringing. The boy had patience, she admitted with a small chuckle. Ah, but she had not finished with her little revenges for that lie he had made her party to. She returned her attention to the dome of glass, casting about for those she sought. Arguyle was still beyond detection, and Moryan was in the Elf-land it seemed, out of range for what little work she could do from here, deprived of the grand instruments her manor house had once held. Still, perhaps there were somethings she could make to happen. She mused on this as she collected up particulars. Her hands busy, she recounted events of the last few weeks and set her mind to a course of action. There were matters she should address in some fashion. Taking dried elements from jars, she cast them into a steeping pot, listening as each made itâ€™s particular sound: the hiss of dried diamond-back toad eye, for piercing through fogs of mystery; the popping sound from dried Telamon brains, mostly to thicken the brew, for Telamon were stupid; the tongue of a novice friar, dried in a ruined church, for turning the untruths into revelations; and lastly, a fragment of dried cloth from the burial shroud of Jasper Pontiff, to better know the lineage of her prey. She waited, sipping at a white wine, as the brew boiled and bubbled, the laughter of her mind suppressed for this working, this bold endeavor. Finally, she lifted an ebon rod, carved from the darkest wood for a dark working and traced sigils in the air over the pot. Glowing runes floated, casting a hellish light on the work surface. She squinted at the dome, flicking droplets of the mixture on its surface. An elf, an Avalonian, a twin, and a cleric. Hmm. Her lips pursed in thought, eyes blazing as she watched some scenes flit too and fro on the opaque dome. First, the elf, she decided and allowed a small chuckle at that. Raising claw-like hands in the air, she wove them in patterns that would make most practitioners pale and quaver, but Dâ€™Vena was far passed simple fear at this stage of the bargain. â€œElfling, Elfling, in your wood; I would strike thee if I could; But you world would be my death, So I dispatch a little Pet; Pet of bone and flesh and Rot; Stepping forth from Yon Pot; Poison Claw and Wicked Horn; Seeks the Elf Upon the Morn; Take from him his heavy Life; So He wonâ€™t shield my Targetâ€™s Strife; Revenge on green Hibernia bring; Kill the Elf, thatâ€™s the Thing!â€ With a stab of the wand-tip and a murderous laugh, a blob-like form rose from the boiling pot. It was vaguely manlike and grew more so as it rose. A horn stood upon itâ€™s head, curving with a serrated bar. Talon-like claws manifest on its hands and it laughed a pitch to match Dâ€™Vena. Then, in a scamper of dripping feet, it scuttled out of the rune-light and into the wan Lyn Barfog sun. With a chuckle and a nod, Dâ€™Vena turned back to her musings, her mood much improved. She pondered the Cleric, a boy, she laughed. Ah, yes. Not A Boy, but His Boy. Her fingers worked nervously for a moment, for a misstep on this path would derail her plan. Perhaps something small, a nudge rather than a push. Lips pursed in thought, she wiggled a small pattern with her fingers. â€œHeart sobourned and love desired; Not yet quenched your physical fire; Seek him out, at all costs; Make him risk a nobleâ€™s loss; At an inn or in a Glade; Make him risk the Ax-manâ€™s Blade; Turn not away Loveâ€™s awesome Force; Or Take the scorned Loverâ€™s Course!â€ She stab more dramatically at her own heart, releasing the emotions she held pent from the scornful use she had suffered. Let him be on the receiverâ€™s end of that this time. The Twin was her next consideration. She chewed a lock of graying hair in thought for a moment and began to work, fingers reduced to little more than a twitch. She savored the Wizard for last. Meddlesome little strumpet. But first, the likeness that was not her object. She nearly cackled, but held her focus. Brother yours the Praise is Given; Two so alike among the Living; If he were gone, your trouble soon; Would give way to Victorâ€™s Boon; Boys were two who should be One; Pause not ye til task is DONE!â€ She snapped her fingers and pointed out, unleashing a force to twist a deep bond upon itself. The spell snapped forth with all the hate she threw behind, but she had misstepped. The heart she stabbed at was more pure than she had thought or calculated for. Jashenâ€™s love for Crispian was as true this day as when he had first laid eyes on his twin, and knew the other half of his own soul. Though deep in the Swamps, and in battle, his aura, his kata, shrugged off her petty stab with the resistance of a greatly enchanted foe. Dâ€™Vena reeled and fell backward, chair and cauldron going to the ground also. The Laughter came, but was not hers. A force that had long waited for just such an error buffeted her mind, and it fed on her essence even as her catatonic eyes looked to the ceiling. She was now in a battle of her own. Crispianâ€™s eyes fluttered for a moment. Azi felt like he had lain there for hours. With the help of some guardâ€™s she had at least moved him off the main roadway. His gray eyes met hers and he smiled weakly. â€œSorry about that,â€ he mumbled as he rolled onto his knees, and with some help, stood. Azi looked very closely at him, almost scrutinizing. â€œAre you alright now?â€ she asked, grabbing his offered elbow to support more than to accompany. â€œYou were down for some time. I was very worried,â€ she chided him, not even realizing the tone she had taken. He grinned over at her, being only fingers taller himself. â€œAye, I feelâ€¦different. Sort of like the pressure has eased a bit,â€ he shook his head as he spoke, lifting Aziâ€™s hand into the crook of his arm. â€œAnd now that we have had breakfast here in fine Camelot, what say you we travel to Lyonesse? Darnyk and I want to thin down the Tanglers some,â€ he smiled to her. â€œThe learning would be great for you!â€ Azi blushed, shaking her head, â€œI donâ€™t think Iâ€™m ready for those yet.â€ â€œNonsense, I shall protect you,â€ he crowed gallantly, leading her toward the east gates of the city and Cotswold beyond. Today was a good day, so far, and he was determined to keep it so. OOC- this brings the story to last night in game, so there may be a wee pause while more unfolds on some fronts. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn crouched on the branch, looking down at the forest floor. It had been a long time since he had played the hunted and he forced himself to admit that he was enjoying it more than a little. The creature roamed about below him, cackling to itself. It had reached Hibernia with terrifying speed. Had Alec not been spying on D'vena at the time, they would never have had what little time they had to prepare for it. They had dispatched Secaran to Albion to warn Crispian about the latest attacks. Ayslyn could only hope that he got there in time. The creature looked up at him, suddenly aware of where its prey hid. Ayslyn grinned down at it. The creature rushed the tree. It was fast, damn fast. Its viscious claws tore into the trunk, the poisons on those claws causing the wood to mortify almost instantly; the wood blackening and rotting away. Ayslyn's grin vanished, replaced by a fierce scowl. He slung his bow and quickly shimmied along the branch until he was next to the trunk of the tree. He called out. "Wake up! You're in danger. Hurry." He held out his hand and a pair of chipmunks scurried out of hole in the trunk, up his arm, and into his hood. He prayed to Rhiannon for some of his old strength, then punched his fist through the entrance to their nest. Scooping up their store of food, he tossed it into one of his pouches. "Hold on," he said and threw himself away from the rapidly dieing tree. With less than his usual grace, he grabbed hold of a banch from the closest tree and swung himself up onto it. Waiting only long enough to catch his balance, he leapt to the next tree, and again to another. He tossed the pouch down on the branch and then placed the chipmunks down next to it. "I'm sorry," was all he said before once again leaping away into yet another tree. He was now angry. Because he had toyed with the creature, a family was displaced from its home. It was time to end this farce. He dropped out of the tree and landed on the ground in a crouch. The creature stared at him, hatred and malevolence shone in its eyes. Ayslyn stood, slowly, rising to his full height. Calmly he unslung his bow and drew an arrow. It's head had been filed with deep grooves; it would not slide easily into its target but would instead rip and tear as it drove home. He spun the arrow along his knuckles and then nocked it. The creature charged at him. He stood stock still, glaring at it. At the last moment, he leapt high in the air, spinning round as the creature stumbled through the space where he had just been. He came down, hard, on its back, driving it to the ground, and leapt away gracefully, drawing the arrow back to his ear. The creature jumped to its feat, rage distorting its already hideous features, and spun round to face him. He let fly the arrow. It tore through the distance between them like a bolt and tore straight through the creature's left eye and into its brain. The creature flopped to the ground, twitching in it's death throes. Ayslyn quickly checked on the chipmunks. They were already starting a new nest, he noted with an amused grin, and headed back to check on how everything else was going. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Arienne_Adribard Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arienne looked over the scroll the scribe handed her. It was clearly old, seemingly written in blood and it appeared to be relevant to the current problem. "Eril, where did this come from? I've been over every scroll in the keep and I never saw this one. You keep a secret library?" "No, milady, that comes from...well, it was from your grandfather's day. There was a raid on a group of necromancers, they were defeated and your grandfather honored for the victory. All of the necromantic items taken were to be destroyed, you see, but..." his voice lowered to a near-whisper: "I cannot bear to burn books. I kept them, locked in a trunk in the cellar, among some old trash where no one ever goes." He spoke the next a bit louder-- "It does describe the problem at hand, does it not?" Arienne re-read the document more carefully. It was a spell of summoning for a MENTARIATH, a demon of the mind. Unlike most demons, which possess the body, this one would influence the mind of the victim, working from within. This made the demon immune to mere exorcism. The spell was long and complex, and included many connections and references Arienne did not understand. "Yes, Eril, I think you may have something here. Thank you for bringing it to me. Keep those other scrolls locked and hidden, though, this is not the sort of thing that should ever slip out." After working with the Academy to stamp out the last vestiges of necromancy from the realm, Arienne did not want to see a new source spring from her own home. A third scan of the aged scroll, and Arienne was ready to take action. She quickly sent a mind-message to Mirashta confirming that she was still working at Lethantis. As soon as she received a confirmation, she moved to the nearest window. <<Mirashta, I've found something I think may be important, but I have no counter-spell. It's too lengthy to explain mind-to-mind, but I'll send it along via courier.>> A passing crow looked just large enough to carry the scroll, and Arienne wasted no time in convincing it to do just that. The crow flew off in the direction of the nearby woods, covering the distance quickly. Arienne sat back down and began answering some of Mirashta's questions, those she could, anyway. With this discovery she began to truly hope that a way might be found to help Crispian out of his torment. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi watched the young lord as he swung again at the keep door. "Stay back there, girl," he had shouted over his shoulder at her as he rushed forward with the most seasoned warriors. So there she stood, outside the outer door of Dun Crauchon, looking in longingly at the action, casting occasional enchantments on anyone with a sword or sheild. She picked him out from time to time, the blue chevron on his back easy to spot in the confusion of melee. Normally, her heart would be soaring with glee at the thought of the devastated elven faces as they watched thier keep fall under Albion's great army. She sighed inwardly and made a quick gesture toward a passing paladin. Her mind was elsewhere tonight. She spotted Crispian again through the crowd. Her thoughts drifted to thier conversation in Camelot two days ago, of D'vena. It had to end, and by his own hand. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The pygmies screamed across the clearing again. It had been thus all day. Master Toorc, the other Seneschal to the League, would hurl some sort of magic at the tree the bloodthirsty creatures hovered near and than come running back toward the safe-point. Sanicca, skilled sorcerer of the Guardians of Val San Retour, would throw out a cloud of magic to stun the rushing mob, and then the work began. Kromly and Darnyk, both Marshals of the League, would spring forward with Crispian to meet them; pole-arm, staff, and sword at the ready. Mercurilius and Mandreland would stealth and strike. They came consistently in crowds of fifteen to twenty, and time again they ripped them apart. For the longest while, there was no healer save Darnyk, but the group had such mastery over the horde that it mattered little. â€œMake at the Ready!â€ Toorc called to them, hands moving in spell work. He had much practice at summoning foes with his element pets and had been doing so for many campaigns. â€œThink you can sober up enough to fight?â€ Kromly scowled, his one eye glinting in the dim-light. Crispian glowered as his Marshal, a man he himself had bestowed the rank upon. â€œI am not too drunk to fight,â€ he muttered as he loosened his sword from the scabbard. â€œTis a change, then,â€ Kromly countered, hefting his polearm. â€œYe be drinkinâ€™ enough for Leftie,â€ he quipped as they braced for the rush of pygmies. â€œAnd he be a seasoned drinker, pup!â€ he continued, even as his great polearm smashed into the head of a pygmy goblin. Crispian, turning a blow aimed at Kromly on his shield, glowered at the tall highlander. â€œMy drink is my issue!â€ he blurted, sword taking a goblin down with a second blow. â€œAnd none of yours.â€ The thwack and noise of battle was high as they worked to dispatch a dozen or more of the little fiends before Saniccaâ€™s stunning spell could wear off. Some did streak past and toward the casters, but Mercilius and Manderland were both upon them before a swipe of their small blades could cut the cloth of the castersâ€™ robes. â€œJust see it donâ€™t ruin thee, lad,â€ Kromly said gravely as the last of this batch fell. â€œYer a good lad, and a good leader. Keep yer head about ye,â€ he advised, hand coming down on Crispianâ€™s shoulder, who was glad for his helm to cover how his face colored. He nodded briskly in assent and made ready for the next fight, not continuing the conversation at all. Azi still had not arrived as the sun sank into the pool that covered much of the land of Lyonesse, long shattered and fallen. Crispian grew worried, but a few tankards took the edge off. He did not feel the insistent pressure of Dâ€™Vena on his mind and could not decide if that was for good or ill. He knew nothing had been actively done to relieve him of his torments, but still she was, for the moment at least, gone. The night passed uneasily, with many more rushes of the tiny beasts being put down. Kromly left for Darkness Falls to slay demons, and his spot was soon filled at the hunt, for many valued the learning of this place for tight-combat styles. It could make a difference on the frontier. Mid-day of the second day in Lyonesse, the party pulled up stakes and journeyed back to the Yardleyâ€™s huts. Horses could be gotten there and the farmers were keen traders, taking in items from the fell creatures in the area in exchange for coin. Excepting a few small items of great value, and a piece of chainmail he thought a guild-member might want, Crispian sold everything. He begged time of the group to ride north and spend some time with the trainer of Armsmen at the Retreat of Lord Adribaldâ€™s. Reluctantly, they agreed to keep his place in their little group and he rode north. The Retreat stood high on a low spot in the swamp, dominating the view of the area, but the trainer of Armsmen oversaw tower guard, and so Crispian sought his training there. It turned out he had been using less force on the upswing of his amethyst slash style and he practiced correcting that. As he worked, he saw Achou, Kayspon and Jashen heading toward the shoreline south of the Retreat, a glum faced Tobyas in their train. It pained him to see the young cleric suffering so, but he could yet bring himself to act on that particular front. He redoubled his efforts in practice until the trainer nodded in satisfaction and his sparring partner, a young recruit, heaved a sigh of relief. Sweating under his armor, he strolled across the green to the tower to visit the healer, as he had been feeling a bit worn lately and he suspected it was from a bind-stone recovery. The healer cast small magicks on him, and Crispian immediately felt much restored and ready to again take on the pygmy goblins in their Lyonesse haunt. The sun was westering already as he headed to the stables for a horse. A group of unkempt fellows barred his path as he approached and he drew himself up. â€œMight I help you gentlemen?â€ he asked calmly, helm tucked under his left arm. One of them, smiling a gapped toothed smile, peered closely at his boyish face and sneered. â€œYouâ€™re te one called Crispian, aye? Knight oâ€™ the Realm and Liard over the League oâ€™ St. Crispin?â€ he half-said and half-spat through his gapped tooth mouth. He reeked of cheap beer and stale sweat. His lank hair hung in clumps at the collar of his ragged jerkin and his boots were sprung out in at least three places. That being noted, he was the best equipped and kept of the six of them. Crispian shifted his stance; tightening the grip on his shield but keeping his right hand clear of him. â€œAye, I am that same, but lord I am not. I am chosen by the League as leader, no more,â€ he kept his face calm except for a slight narrowing of his cool, gray eyes. â€œAnd whom might I be addressing?â€ He assessed how the six were ranged and found it sloppy indeed if the oneâ€™s demeanor indicated the thoughts of them all. The gapped-tooth man spat at Crispianâ€™s feet, off-colored spittle spotting his gleaming mail boots. â€œWe be hearin that ye keep company with boys, ye cretin,â€ he spoke with venom dripping from his tone. â€œBut, praise the Aâ€™mighty, one ye defiled has found the church and now we be aiminâ€™ to show ye the errors of your choices, ye cur!â€ He took a bold stance, legs shoulder wide and arms held out to the ready, right hand suddenly holding a dagger. Crispian snorted. â€œStand aside, sirrah. Iâ€™ll not be judged by the likes of thee or thine for the cost of the curse laid upon in good service to the King!â€ He moved his left arm, allowing his helm to drop to the ground as he drew his blade, reward of a quest and house of a great stunning magic. These men obviously knew little of the folly in challenging a Centurion-ranked Armsman, fully trained as Crispian was. â€œNow, stand aside. I warn you I shall pull no blow if you strike!â€ Even as he spoke, two made to move at him from each side. Crispian did not hesitate in the slightest. With an upswing of his shield, he smashed one in the chin, shattering it from a force that would have stunned a troll or even a telamon. His sword-arm connected with the other, blade turned flat. The smack of steel on flesh-covered bone was loud and the man crumpled, his eyes unfocused and glazed. The remaining four adjusted to their losses, but Crispian was now in full combat mode, even if he used not killing force. Gap-tooth swung his dagger up, and Crispian parried it with a negligent flip of his own blade, smacking the man upside his head. As happened in combat, the sword unleashed its magic and the man fell dead even as a companion of his was meeting the face of Crispianâ€™s steel-skinned shield. The crumple of metal to flesh as a little quiet than the snap of the manâ€™s nose and cheek bones and he fell with a ruined face. The final two were backing off as Crispian turned on them, rage in his eyes. â€œStand your ground!â€ he called, closing on them even as they back peddled. For all their foolishness, neither was stupid even to show his back to an armsman in a murderous range and that probably spared their lives. Crispian smote at each with a single blow, flat bladed still, and dropped them senseless to the ground. Not even breathing hard, he surveyed them all, one dead and five downed. Turning to the Captain of the Tower, he bowed his head. â€œI meant not to kill that one and place my pledge as my ransom.â€ The Captain nodded. â€œLord Adribald will hold inquiry, Sir Knight, and the Officers of the Court shall pass verdict,â€ he responded in formula. â€œI take your pledge as Ransom for ye to appear hear one month hence at the High Court of Lord Adribald.â€ He bowed his head in acceptance and broke a small grin. â€œI would have killed more than one for what they said, even if it be true.â€ Crispian paused in putting his helm back on and met the gaze of the Captain. â€œIt is true, as far as one is concerned, Sir.â€ He settled his helm as the Captain scowled in thought. â€œBut I am no pederast or rapist, nor do I keep catamites.â€ He swung up into the saddle and settled his gear. â€œI shall be back for the Lordâ€™s Court,â€ he called as he touched spurs to flank and rode south to battle. At the camp, nothing much had changed. Sanicca, the skilled sorcerer, had left for Emain to fight with some Guardians of Val San Retour and an Earth Wizard had replaced him. The fighting continued and it was not until the next morn that Azi finally arrived. Her robe was spotted from the ride, but still she possessed every ounce of poise and grace Crispian admired. He bowed to her in greeting and she curtseyed with a small blush. â€œI thank thee for permitting me to come, Sire,â€ she said, a small smile dancing on her lips, for she knew how Crispian felt about such formalities. â€œNay, Sister, tis not my permission ye need, just a stout heart, for we shall learn much here!â€ he replied, giving her another slight bow. He reached for a topper of ale and caught her scowl of disapproval. With a shy blush, he passed the topper to Darnyk, who smiled. â€œThankee,â€ he said as he hoisted it, smacking his lips at the taste. The friar was aware of what was going on, but felt it not his place to stand between a man and Godâ€™s given ale, whatever the cause. Still, he had known Crispian for a long time and he did have his concerns. Again the call came as the foes were summoned to the slaughter. Swords and polearms, spells and staves fought them off, and they fell. It had gotten to the point of almost too easy, even with the occasional death. In the aftermath, as they stood about, catching breath and checking gear, Crispian set a small kettle to boil and steeped some tea, noting the pleased expression on Aziâ€™s face as she drank from a skin. He doled some honey into the mint tea, which Azi had given him in Camelot. â€œTea?â€ he offered Kromly, grinning slyly. A large steaming mug filled Crispian hand, replacing the topper which he was so fond of. â€œNay, Iâ€™ll stick with me ale,â€ he said, drinking from a well-worn travel skin. â€œBut ye can have tea if you like, little man.â€ He grinned to show that no harm was meant, but Crispian still scowled slightly. Thus did most of the day pass, the slaying of the pygmy goblins that infested Lyonesse, called forth by Morganaâ€™s dread magicks, with pauses to refresh themselves from the labors. Soon, their camp housed ten valiant souls fighting the mobs from the east and another eight taking those from the west. The small strand they were on bristled with the beasts at almost every turn, and as it happened, they were overrun. Darnyk had gone forward to startle some of the pygmy goblins, much to everyone surprise. He crept close in, his staff gripped tightly with a sweating hand. The low-lying land of Lyonesse was humid and there was no breeze to give him respite. He peered intently at the prey, but a few feet from him. He prepared to send a small annoying prayer its way. As he did so, he knew almost immediately that something had gone wrong. He sprung from his concealment, racing to his companions, and even as he heard Crispianâ€™s shout of â€œTangler,â€ it was evident that they would be overrun. The numbers of goblins that streamed forth from the base of the tree was more than anyone of them thought had a liar here. Instead of the aggressive party of twelve to twenty that normally came forth, nearly two score scurried across the plain. They were leaping at the warriors even as they were engaged, swarming passed them and onto where the casters stood. There were shouts to flee and run, but few had time and only Azi made it clear of them, running along the lakeshore. Dracarn and Belil, who had been with the western group, wheeled around in time to split the goblins, taking down those that made it passed Crispian and the others, stunning some with magic, dispatching others with sword blows. When all was still again, none of Crispianâ€™s party stood among the living. Dracarn and Blodoc, a noble cleric of many campaigns, began to chant their prayers. They besieged the Almighty with pleas and supplications, and called the fallen back to life, an infusion of faith lifting them from among the ranks of the dead. Crispian vomited. He always did after being resurrected. It was something his body did not like going through, being dead and called back to life. There had been times he had almost not heeded the call, but not this day. He had to find Azi, to have her restored to life. If he had only never called her to Lyonesse, she could be pouring over old scrolls and musty tomes. Now, they were not even sure where she had fallen. Dracarn and Crispian set out along the lakefront, and Darnyk and Kromly headed out as well, each taking a different curve of the shore when it broke beyond the spit. They ranged out, looking for her, even calling vainly in case she would answer. As Dracarn and Crispian moved near some ruins from the Roman occupation, the pygmies struck, renting claws and blades against armor. Crispian was not yet fully recovered from his earlier mishap and fell quickly. Dracarn again summoned the holy mighty to bring him back to life, followed by a weak thank-you and more vomiting. Just as they turned northward again, they heard the sounds of fighting. The unmistakable sound of a stave breaking bone warned them that Darnyk and Kromly had been set upon. They rushed toward the sounds of battle, only to find the three bodies near to each other. Kromly and Darnyk lie within feet of Azi, so close to completing their task it was almost heart wrenching. Dracarn bowed his head in prayer, raising a clench fist to the heavens as he prayed. Light seemed to engulf him, a pillar of white on white, and he called forth to Darnyk. In a shimmering pulse, Darnykâ€™s body seemed to rise from the ground, wounds closing as he weakly settled next to Dracarn, who set heavily down next to him. â€œA moment,â€ the paladin gasped out â€œThe Almighty says I have called on him often this day.â€ He bowed his head to clasped hands, praying silently, even as Darnyk pulled himself up with staff. He too prayed, moving his hands in a gathering motion, as if to show all the life that was around him. He pointed as Azi as he raised his hand open-palmed hand toward heaven. And it was done. Azi stood, shaking, then sitting, next to the friar, who greeted her with a tired smile. â€œLetâ€™s not be doing that again!â€ he chided good naturedly at her, one finger waggling at her. She turned an appropriate pink and curtseyed. â€œThank you, good Darnyk,â€ she said, rising on toes to kiss his cheek. The gruff young friar managed a smile at that even as Dracarn was again beseeching the Lord for the life of Kromly. Soon, a tired group of five clomped back into the camp area, to be greeted by many happy faces. They rested from their ordeals for a bit, breaking out camp fare and drink, ales mostly. The stale, coarse bread and dried meats were munched in silence. â€œAn ale, just one,â€ Crispian amended quickly, looking sidelong at Azi, â€œwould go do nicely after that.â€ He tried not to look at her, but found he couldnâ€™t. There was something compelling about the way she watched over him. It was not a romantic entanglement, but rather a feeling of overwhelming care, like a surrogate motherhood. Crispian tried not to think about all the complications that could arise from that. â€œIf you want an ale, you can have one, Sir Crispian,â€ Azi said, a bit formally. Her tone carried no reproach, but rather a cautioning. It was like she was telling him that his limits were going to be his to test and find, and all she could do was point out when he went too far. Rather awkwardly, he accepted the passed topper of ale, and drank sparingly from it. Since leaving Camelot three days ago, his headlong rush into alcoholic stupor seemed to have slowed, and he could not exactly figure out why that struck him as odd. It took him the remaining time they rested to nurse down the one tankard, and he found that it only slaked his thirst. As they prepared for yet another rush, Yvain, a young paladin in service of the League, arrived. He bowed to Crispian, who saluted in return, and grasped Kromlyâ€™s hand warmly. â€œLord, might I join thee in thy hunt?â€ he said, rather stiltingly. Crispian could not help but grin at the other man, a couple years his senior in age. â€œAye, there is always room at the hunt,â€ he said, extending his hand in greeting. â€œPerhaps I should be going back to my studies,â€ Azi said suddenly. â€œI have learned much, but I feel I might be in the way.â€ Her sudden turn of mood caught Crispian off guard. â€œNay, Lady Azi, please stay and hunt on with us. There are many foes to fell and we learn with each how better to use our skills,â€ came his rushed reply. He found himself a little panicked at the idea of Azi leaving so, and that unnerved him a bit. â€œI could fight with ye, lass, perhaps a bit to the side so ye can work on your spell use,â€ Kromly offered, his massive polearm leaning on a shoulder as he slicked his hair back and pulled arming coif up. â€œThat way ye can still learn, and I can be protectinâ€™ ye.â€ The older highlander saw through the issue better than Crispian. Azi was blaming herself in some way for the spate of deaths just past. â€œI thank ye, Sir, but it is not necessary.â€ She was readying her packs, securing the items that they had gotten off the bodies of the pygmies that were of some small worth. â€œI think I might be slowing the process and the hunt.â€ â€œNonsense!â€ Kromly yelped, his highlander brogue twisting the word into a great oath. â€œYeâ€™ll be doinâ€™ some fine learninâ€™ and te Realm cin always use more skilled finger-wigglers!â€ he declared, making it sound more like a declaration of war than mere praise for her skill. â€œNow, come aside witâ€™ me. As they summon in the foes, Iâ€™ll pick a few off from the edges and ye can support me with yer magic. Ifâ€™n I be needin' healinâ€™, Darnyk or Rhizzia can be healinâ€™ me.â€ He grabbed her elbow and pulled her aside as Darnyk again crept forward toward the goblin tree. Crispian stood to the ready, again his band was making ready for the onslaught, but he kept tossing glances over to where Azi and Kromly stood to the ready. â€œAzi, Iâ€™m jealous,â€ chided Rhizzia, the highlander cleric who had recently joined the hunt party but had long been part of the League. Her bearing and manner did not seem very church like, and Rhizzia made little secret that her past was not that of a virginal maiden. â€œJealous?â€ Azi asked, a slight blushing pinking her cheeks. â€œWhy would you be jealous, Rhizzia?â€ Rhizzia smirked, the humor plain written on her face. â€œKromly has never taken me aside for his individual attentions,â€ she quipped, giving a nearly lewd twist to the phrase, as was her want with most things. Kromly scowled. â€œTis not like that, Rhizz!â€ he protested, almost too quickly. â€œDo ye forget my lady wife?â€ he continued, his discomfiture at the line of exchange showing in his manner as well as his face. â€œAye, Lyndariel. I wonder what she would think,â€ Rhizzia prodded, enjoying her moment of setting the highlander Marshal to odds. â€œItâ€™s not like that, Rhizzia,â€ Crispian found himself jumping in, not wanting this gesture to be sullied. His tone was firmer than he had intended, and he caught the arching of Rhizziaâ€™s eyebrow at him as it crept into the metal rim of her bar-nasal helm. â€œIndeed not, Lord. I was only making light.â€ She bowed to him, but the speculative look she gave him did not change in the least. â€œIf youâ€™re done bandying words, might we hunt?â€ Darnyk shot at them as he came running over the field, robes hiked up and saddles slapping the turf. â€œTanglers!â€ he called loudly, and again, they fell into the fight, all side conversation ended. During the next several hours, there was little talk. The routine ground on. More pygmies, sometimes led by a dread Tangler, who brought many with him, sometimes not. These smaller groups barely got the attention of the full party. Kromly complained repeatedly that Crispian or another had taken the foe he was fighting for Azi, and many slights were exchanged quickly, in high humor and jest. At the end of the day, the fourth on the plains of Lyonesse, they quit the field; heading for the safety of Cornwall Station and some much needed rest. Packs were heavy with loot that would fill coin purses. Plans for training was laid in for most that had been down to the hunt. Azi headed north to Camelot, bowing a good-bye to Crispian at the Yardleyâ€™s farm, the first place a horse could be had. â€œAre you sure you have to be off?â€ he asked, his voice breaking against his will. He cursed himself under his breath. Twenty-three years old and still he could not sound like a full-man all the time, and Lord knew he was still often though a boy due to his size. Azi smiled one her sweet, disarming smiles, eyes dancing merrily. â€œAye, Lord, you have given me much to think on, but my studies do call me back.â€ As he raised his hand, she placed hers on it and he bowed over it to lightly brush lips to the back. She smiled again at him. He could be gallant and charming, but for her nothing more was an option, even though it seemed at time he might wish it. â€œThen be well, dear Azi, and travel safe.â€ He watched as she swung into the saddle of the palfrey and turned its head north, riding out of Cornwall and for the city of Camelot. He sighed a bit louder than he wanted and Darnyk smacked him on the back heartily. â€œYe need to hunt more, Crispy, and worry less.â€ -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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{old}Jannis_Solaran Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Llyn Barfog was sere and empty. It was a lonely, unforgiving place, by turns oppressively hot at noon, and icy cold at night. Jannis sighed. She hated Llyn Barfog. She grimaced at her brother, Lance shrugged. Pacing delicately along the shoreline of the great lake, she counted her steps with care before pausing suddenly, the wind teasing her hair. She turned away from the lake into the depths of the stony hills, pacing carefully in measured strides. The land was bare, sun streaking down and baking the soil and rock. Suddenly Jannis felt a chill and a shiver pased across her skin. She felt the power strands of the spell swing back into place as she passed through its web, vibrating again as her brother followed her through. The spell quivered a bit casting faint rainbows through the air before stilling and vanishing. So simplistic... well, Jannis corrected herself, so efficent a use of power, illusions were far less draining to maintain than the more powerful spellwards and just as effective. The two Avalonians turned, and walked slowly up to D'Vena's retreat. Lance pushed open the door, and they walked in, noticing immediately the lack of any sign of life, a terrible pall seemed to hang over the building. Lance frowned and drew his sword. -----signature-----
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	It was feasting on years of torment, some self-imposed, some inflicted on others. It relished the base wickedness and spite of this vessel. She was more than amply suited to almost any task. Oh, and her obsessions! What delicatable tidbits of base-born wants those were. Pity the little blond man-child had not tarried longer to find out about her own hidden appetites. Yes, the deep cess-pool this one called a mind was fine fodder. She lay staring at nothing. No servant approached, no vermin drew near her. The chill of beyond the grave radiated from her, and they all sensed it. Dogs moved in a wide berth of the building, and even the vile beasts of Lyn Barfog shunned it. A disembodied laughter echod through the house at times, a mirthless chuckle at others. Servants cowered and hid, clutching symbols of faith hidden from the mistress but now dug out frantically. There was a pulse, a disturbance. It twitched, feeling the life-forces pass through. A threat. She must be the one to respond. It was not ready to reveal itself. Too many things were happening elsewhere in the world. Too much at stake. D'Vena jerked spasmodically, twitching, then slowly stood up. Her eyes focused, but she looked scared, frightened. She shuffled to the door, pulling it open, and climbing slowly up the stairs. -----signature-----
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{old}Lynx_Apollo Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	entering Llyn Barfog brought back memories to the Avalonian Paladin, Lance Solaran, as he hadn't been among this forsaken place since he was very young, and a frown crossed his face as he remembered happy memories of a happier time. His aunt didn't seem quite so bad to him then, sure it might have been just his childhood desire to play and frolick that blinded him to his Aunt, D'vena, and what she was. upon passing the Tower overlooking the only entrance to this District, he noticed his sister's forlorn look, and shrugged. They both knew what they were here for. D'vena escaped from the King's custody, and their Uncle Lord Adribard sent them to try to find D'vena and try to persuade her to be reasonable. Basically, Adribard knew that in D'vena's thirst for power, the Solarans were of no threat to her, thusly made them prime prospects for this undertaking. The Solaran twins had no desire for politics, they found it incredibly irritating, and D'vena knew this Upon approaching the shore line, he cleared his mind, and began centering himself. He calmly let his sister do all the tedious work of counting the steps and casually walked behind her. As Jannis found the entrance to the Illusion Casting, Lance looked around to make sure no non-Avalonians were in sight, then seeing the coast clear, he closed his eyes and entered the barrier. The two siblings looked at one another, and without speaking a word to each other, nodded as if they both knew the other's thoughts Lance went up the stairs to the huge Teak door first, and shoving the door open, the two entered. Lance could sense Jannis' uneasiness as they stood in the Foyer, and couldn't deny that he felt a bit of the same. Lance drew his sword, and took the point position, with his sister following closely behind him, they approached the stairs. He looked up them momentarily, and seeing nothing, walked passed them. He approached what looked like a wall with a painting of their mother on it, and calmly approached closer and closer, then went right through the wall as if it wasn't even there. A sense of foreboding came over the Avalonian Paladins as they entered this hallway, halting Lance in his steps. He stepped forward two steps and readied his sword in a fighting stance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a silhouette, yet he couldn't make out the shape before it vanished. Then he heard a shrill laughter emanating inside his head, so shrill it sent pain coarsing through his head and down his spine. He lowered his sword and looked on at his sister, trying his best to contain the agony from spreading to his face, and Jannis stood there, unaffected it seemed. -----signature-----
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	It felt the recoil, the envigorating taste of agony. The purity of the mind, the soul was so intense, so devout. It lashed at it, pulling at it, probing the impurity it knew to be there. She sensed it, she could feel the exultation of the contact. She closed her eyes to the joy of it, momentarily basking in the duel-meal she shared with her companion-being. But there was something wrong, something off. This was not what she sought to feed on, who she wanted to relish the agony of. This was...an essence close to her own...Avalonian, if not kin, at the very least. Her eyes snapped open, fingers moving in a gesture, as she whirled down the stair. Her lips peeled back to expose white-pink gums as a near insane rictus seized her. "Primus Scopus Restituere!" she moaned out, giggling at the end. Her finger stabbed at the small, golden hair figure inside the milky dome even as it sought out the mind it had but recently touched. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi watched the young lord as he swung again at the keep door. "Stay back there, girl," he had shouted over his shoulder at her as he rushed forward with the most seasoned warriors. So there she stood, outside the outer door of Dun Crauchon, looking in longingly at the action, casting occasional enchantments on anyone with a sword or sheild. She picked him out from time to time, the blue chevron on his back easy to spot in the confusion of melee. Normally, her heart would be soaring with glee at the thought of the devastated elven faces as they watched thier keep fall under Albion's great army. She sighed inwardly and made a quick gesture toward a passing paladin. Her mind was elsewhere tonight. She spotted Crispian again through the crowd. Her thoughts drifted to thier conversation in Camelot two days ago, of D'vena. It had to end, and by his own hand. ((back in sequence now)) Crispian hacked at the door, listening to the yelled commands of Laraleloth. She was snapping out orders left and right, instructing, coordinating. All the things a good commander did. The Hibernian keep door was falling quickly as the ram slammed into it again, springing the seams of the wood and they were through! The surged up the spiralling ramp, midgardians and hibernians falling to blades and spells. The Midgards were trying to sneak in through the confusion and dislodge the Albion force, but it was not to be. They rushed the Lord, swords slashing into his body, even as he tossed Albion warriors and casters aside. Finally, with a great cry, he fell. The blood-slick floor heaved under Crispian's feet for a moment and he staggered out the doorway. He had trouble focusing. His eyes shifted about. Who was still running the ram? Where was that pounding coming from? He yanked his helm free, sweat running down his face. Were Hibernian keeps always this warm? Again, the pounding. It seemed like there was another right after each blow, like an echo. He careened down the ramp, hugging the wall, sword dragging tip-down on the ramp. Finally, with a misstep, he fell the near two stories to tower floor. He landed with a loud crash, armored arms and legs akimbo. Azi rushed to his side. "The Lord did not make ramps for you to fall off of, Crispian!" she jibed him, as she inspected for broken bones hidden under armor. But he was standing, shaking his head. "The good Lord made stairs for us to walk down, not these twisting ramps," he joked, allowing the pain from his head to blend with that from his back, legs and knees. He greatfully accept Azi's arm under his own for the support, but how long could he mask what he felt from her? And thank god Auntie Mir and Oaklief were in the Falls instead of on this raid. He stumbled with her out of the smoke and carnage. His left leg dragged a bit, wrenched from the fall, and he could not make his eyes focus for more than a couple of seconds it seemed. Then it was there again. The SMACK against his mind, as sure as a ram-blow to a door, and the echo, a deep wretching agony, a near scream of terror. He felt a recoil, a purity, an anchored faith and resolution. He winced, staggering into Azi. "Are you alright, Lord?" she asked, easing him down near the ruined gates that craftsmen were already trying to patch. "Fine, I'm fine Azi," he murmured. His eyes closed as the blows rained in again. 'You have to beat me first, bitch!' he thought with utter rage. 'Me first!' he hurled at the force pounding into his mind, and then felt the full force a blow that left him near gasping for breath from the force. "Lord!" Azi exclaimed, calling for a cleric. Crispian slumped back to the wall more, sagging a little to one side. With a pained swallow, he marshalled himself. "No, I'm ok, just get me up." He shuttered off the pain and agony he felt, making for the safety of home. Tomorrow, there was more to do out in the Frontier, he thought. Tomorrow, just focus on that. He shuffled a step in front of the other as they moved off. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The day was a blur. A run on the relic. Death near a lake. The pulling power of the Bind Stone. The weakening retching that always followed. The room was cool, lit by some source he could not see. There was a glowing milky light that suffused the place. Was he dead? Had the bind stone magic failed, as it sometimes did? â€œNot dead,â€ said a quiet voice. â€œBut we needed to talk, you and I.â€ He looked about, and there was a man. He was cowled and hooded. A prominent nose dominated his face over a ragged beard shot with gray. Hooded eyes of a smoldering brown looked dispassionately at Crispian. â€œWho are you?â€ he asked, hand creeping toward where a sword should hang. But there was none. He look at his waist and then noticed he was stripped of all armor, clad in simple peasant cloths much like he had grown up in. No, exactly like what he had grown up in. The outfit even that he had come to Camelot in. â€œWhere am I?â€ he asked, bewildered. â€œWho I am is not important, and where we are could be anyplace you like,â€ the man said, settling on a bench that became a rock as the room became a lake shore in Lyonesse, near to the sunken house of the clerks. â€œIs this better?â€ he asked, mouth quirking in a near smile. â€œOr this?â€ and they were suddenly in the warm, cozy suite that Mirashta had raised them in, he and Jashen. â€œOr this?â€ and they were in the cluttered room of a tavern in the Shadow Guild, a sleeping Tobyas on a narrow cot near at hand. Then, back in the room. â€œIf it matters, I can make this anyplace you wish,â€ he said, hands resting in his lap calmly. â€œWhat is the purpose of this?â€ Crispian asked, mouth going dry in near fright. If he had blade and shield, he thought, I could put this being down and be free. A tongue-clucking sound from the man brought his attention back. â€œYou cannot kill me with steel or stone, Crispian. I am not of that Realm you war in.â€ The man smoothed his robe out and let his hands rest again on his lap. â€œI am here only to help you, but not in a fleshy way.â€ Crispian scowled at him. Had he not been through enough these past weeks, even with the brief respite of the past two days? â€œYes, you have been through much,â€ the man said, plucking the thought right from his head. Crispian looked up in shock. â€œIt is easier if you just speak it out, Crispian. It takes energy to do all of this, you know.â€ The man leaned on the wall and watched the youth. â€œYou are here to help me?â€ Crispian ventured tentatively. â€œIn a way,â€ the man said, hands again smoothing the front of his robe in an absent-minded gesture. â€œI am here to give you some idea of what is happening, if not why it is happening.â€ He paused, leaned back in comfort. â€œYou mean with all of this?â€ he asked, gesturing toward his own head. The man nodded, eyes closed for a moment. â€œThen speak on, man! For the torment has been great, and I fear what comes next,â€ Crispian implored, his voice beginning to shake. The man open his eyes, looking at the warrior-lord. â€œYou stumbled upon something corrupt, and becoming more so, and foiled a plan, a desire, that was very dear to it. It wants recompense.â€ He paused again. His eyes met the keen, honest look of the ladâ€™s gray eyes. Oh, how he had loved another with those eyes. The man sighed. â€œYou are being the means of exacting that recompense.â€ â€œI donâ€™t understand,â€ Crispian muttered. â€œAll I did was aid some friends in trouble, turned an evil aside,â€ his eyebrows nettled together in thought and the man almost gasped. â€œDo you think evil defeated is evil gone, Crispian?â€ the man prodded, barely moving at all, but intently watching every move of the Britonâ€™s face. â€œIf so, you have much to learn. There are those who think, from examining the nature of the world around them, that evil and good are finite things, with sometimes shifts between them. An evil defeated can reshape, sometimes into good, or sometimes into more evil, even greater evil.â€ Crispian stood, grimacing as he followed what the man was saying. â€œThat makes no sense!â€ he snapped. â€œIf, if,â€ his mouth worked soundless for a second, â€œIf you defeat evil, if, if you put evil down, then the evil should just be gone!â€ he declared, pacing in front of the seated man, who smiled slightly. â€œIf that were so, boy, donâ€™t you think the pygmies would be extinct? The Predwyn bridge safe of boulderings? The demons of Darkness Falls cast down?â€ The man tilted his head a bit to one side. â€œThat is a foolish notion we can visit later. For now, what you need to know is that what you did has a price.â€ â€œA price? For doing good and right? For being pure of intent?â€ Crispian challenged. â€œPure of intent. An interesting way to view those events.â€ Again, a smile quirked but one side of the manâ€™s face. â€œYou used means and tools hardly pure, boy,â€ the man said, face growing stern. â€œAnd she wants her revenge on you all. You can pay your price or all of it, but you must decide.â€ â€œI donâ€™t, I donâ€™t understand,â€ Crispian pleaded. â€œWatch,â€ the man whispered. A Tableau appeared and scene came quick to it. Crispian, hale and well, cheerful and happy, but apparently dispossessed of station, in a small home, far from the centers of the Realm. He was repairing a harness for a horse, and Tobyas was chopping kindling not far away, bare chested in the late dayâ€™s sun. Then a great guild hall, and a somber, serious Crispian reviewing documents, smiling at members of the League, but content, not happy. Next, a street crowded with the traffic of the day, with people bustling about on errands and tasks, and against a wall, in rags, Crispian sat. His florid complexion showed the signs of years at hard drinking, and he begged coins from those that came near, a pathetic, broken once-warrior. â€œBut, none of those are what I want,â€ he complained, knowing he would not give up the League, but nor could he see his life devoid of romance and intimacy, of the commitment to one person. He also would not accept that he would throw his life away to ale. The man looked at him almost devoid of any expression. â€œIt is up to you, boy, as to how you will pay the Price that this being has set against you.â€ He watched as Crispian churned over in his mind what he had seen and heard. The boy set his jaw firmly, squarely and met the manâ€™s eyes without hint of a flinch or recoil. â€œI will not allow another to dictate the terms of my life to me through her spite or wish for revenge. And I cannot see letting my friends, whom I aided, shoulder the burden for me, although I would do so for them.â€ The man nodded gravely. â€œSo you choose the path of continued suffering, then?â€ He pinned the boy in place with his eyes, holding him in full attention. â€œAnd you know what that could mean?â€ Crispian saw that last vision, of him drunken and broken. â€œAye, and will fight against that happening with all I can, and every tool at my disposal.â€ The man nodded again. â€œSo let it be. You have made your choice in this battle then, Crispian Jasper Pontiff. Draw up the battle line of your soul, for you have pitched it against the foe. But, I warn thee, if you fail, your soul will be the Price,â€ and with a movement of his hand he returned the lad to Albion, staring at the spot where the boy had been. â€œBe brave, my son,â€ he said, as a tear ran down his cheek. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi ducked into the catacombs again, fleeing for her life from the ghostly Legionaire. Something was terribly wrong. Her bolts had been missing all night.. Perhaps as she had feared, she had become spoiled by the great night of learning with Crispian and Kromly and the other members of the League. The learning had come so easily that night, and was such fun. A blush came o her cheeks as she remembered Crispian, offering her a mug of mint tea. She chuckled to herself as she recalled the puzzled looks on her guildies faces seeing the young lord drinking tea amidst the pygmys. Azi peered back outside. The legionnaire had lost interest and was returning to its post near a standing stone. She stepped out again, conjuring a ball of flames, and gestured toward another legionnaire whose eyed glowed bright yellow in rage. The firey bolt hit it hard, and she quickly released an icey blast, slowing his charge. Another gesture and shout, and the ghostly form fizzled and crumpled. She smiled with satisfaction, glad of the distraction from the recent troubles of her dear friend. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian walked into the Guild hall, full from the fights of the passed days and puzzled by his strange vision. Aceramar greeted him with a bow. He saluted. "I spoke to Arguyle MacFadden," Aceramar said. "He told me to tell you that you are not the Savior of Albion, but a cog in the machine." Crispian snarled. "He would not know a savior if he descended from heaven!" "And," Aceramar pressed on, "you are to attend him in his estates in Snowdonia." He scurried away as his lord and seneschal scowled. Crispian turned and left the Guild hall, annoyed now. He stalked the street and nearly collided with Glenin, of the Wayward band. He had gone to the forge from habit and she was laboring over weapons, as he was want to do from time to time. He bowed. "Hail Lady Glenin," he said, taking his own tools up. She smiled at him. "How fare you?" he asked, setting down with mithril and hammer. "I am well," she smiled, "and you?" She looked closely at him, not even trying to disguise it. "I am well enough," he said, straddling a bench to work a bit of mithril into better form. She nodded, muttering "good" under her breath as she worked a weapon into form. Crispian scowled suddenly. "That pig-farmer is trying to ruin my League!" he said, hammering at a part that would not fit. Glenin barely looked up. "Who? Arguyle?" "Aye," he muttered. "What is he doing?" she asked, appearing not to watch for a reaction. Crispian hawked in laughter. "He says I am to attend him at his estates." His brows closed together in concentration. "Well, go!" she said, fixing more attention on him. "Find out what's happening!" Her work was immediately forgotten. "Bah!" he scoffed. "Like I want to be with that hairy ape of a man!" He slammed hammer into metal. "He is nice," she said quietly, "and nae that bad." She set hammer aside. "No," he said, shaking his head, "she tells me he is evil." His voice dropped to a low whisper, eyes going a little unfocused. "Who tells you?" Glenin asked, her fighting senses honing in, watching for the smallest change. He shuddered, a physical wave sweeping him. "D'Vena," he said quietly, knowing that no member of the Wayward Band would not know of her. Glenin spat. "He nae evil," she snarled. "She is evil," she said, grabbing Crispian's hand. "Ye shouldn't listen to her." She watched as he recoiled, pulling hand from her grasp. "I hear her," he gasped, "in my mind, always, and the laughter!" "Well," Glenin pressed on, "ye need to to get rid of her!" Her simple view of the world saw it as a fight, you defeat the foe. "Oh Lady Glenin!" he sobbed, breaking slightly, "if only I could! But she is HERE!" he said, pressing his fingers against his temples. "And think o' the lies she is tellin' you!" she pressed, harder, holding his gaze. "Confusing you!" She watched him, a scowl of near rage crossing her face. "Ye need to see another sorceress!" He gasped in near physical pain. "I...I...I can't push her out. She is always there, mocking me, my ife, my love!" he almost cried out, holding the woman's eyes to his own. "Ye can push her out," she said, a firm whisper. "Ye HAVE to!" her scarred hands again grabbed his. Her eyes softening at the sight of such tormnet. "She assaults me!" he choked out. "She drived forth these, images, all my FAILURES!" he cried, as other smiths looked over at the pair, only to look away as Glenin surveyed them. She looked at him, a tenderness in her eyes. "Bah!" she said. "Everyone has them. Ye just letting her get to ye! Go, see Arguyle. He can help ye." Crispian's head snapped up, a lance of pain seering his mind. "That man!" he sneered. "He ruins what he touches!" Glenin drew back, as if struck. "He disn't!' she exclaimed. "But I must think on this." She stood, looking down at the young man before her. "Let me think on this. Somethin' must be done." She patted his shoulder. "She mocks me," he said, grabbing her hand and kissing it. "Until later, Lady Glenin." She patted his arm. "Ye'll get through this," she said quietly. Tear filled eyes met hers. "I pray so, Lady Glenin," and he released her, watching her cross the courtyard. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump a short pause is all -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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{old}Jannis_Solaran Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jannis' nerves were all afire, though she could sense nothing, see nothing out of place. The manor was as still and silent as a tomb. Even the soft clang of their metal boots against the floor was muffled down to nothingness in the soft swirls and delicate curvacures of the lush woven carpets. Lance started at her for a moment; Jannis grew uneasy. The silence seemed stifling, oppressive, and the sound of her breath echoed painfully loud to Jannis' straining ears. She clutched reflexively on the hilt of her new rapier, feeling threated though unharmed. Faintly, as if in the distance, she heard something. Her heart thudded, and she tried to rein her emotions in harshly, calling to bear years of strict, unyielding discipline imposed since almost birth. She laughed at herself softly, to be so easily startled. Seeing Lance still hesitating, Jannis drew her rapier as well and took point, leading the pair further down the secret hall to.. a dead end? Jannis frowned... there was something wrong here... -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	(sits and watches what Lance and Jannis are doing, since we can't move too fast and leave them taking days to walk down a hall) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Greymalkin332 Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Drinks another ale in Ye Mug. Keisha -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((been editting some stuff and let this slip, more to come honest...)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Big tease! I saw this bumped and thought it was finally ready! <glares at Crispian> -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Oh NO! The ready version will be a whole new thread! I'm thinking "The End of Elix and Tinalynth's Price for the Red Cleric Alone" -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Kelvyn26 Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Hmmmm....<stares at the title> Hmmmm....<looks off into the distance> Ummmm....<looks more confused than he was> -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	I dont know what to say except rofl.. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ack.... Now THAT is a name..... A painful name -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((OOC- Many thanks to Azi for yelling at me, and a devious friend from Scotland, known to us all as Toorc, but more intimately to me as Pinhead (grin) for getting this moving again. The below is a post of his from our board, and an add of my own)) Toorc regarded the scowling young Cabalist before him. Could she really contain the essence of the astral traveler known as "Arc"? He wondered. Certainly, all his research pointed to a yes. Unfortunately, he was rapidly finding he didn't like her. The entity known as Arc was said to have come from another reality, or dimension. There her soul was a great mage of some sort, and had caused a bridge to open across the realms, just as Crispian was fighting back the hordes of Midgard alongside the League founders. Arc's intervention had undoubtedly allowed such unskilled young warriors to defeat midgard raiders, but the actual nature of Arc remained a mystery. And here, to all intents and purposes, was the vessel in which the Wanderer was housed. Toorc gave serious thought to the survival of this entity were he to snuff out it's current home. Arcalan Hemlos glared at Toorc. She hated this old theurgist, with his frowning countenance and his rigid code of ethics. She hated him almost as much as those grumbling old fools at the Academy. Arcalan had a great deal of hatred in her young frame. "So" she continued, "For the mere sum of 100 gold you can but my silence on Crispian's 'doings' in the Shadow Quarter of late" she smiled with such charm that only a defender of Albion would see through to the serpent beneath. "Indeed" said Toorc, toying with the ice blast spell that rose to his mind. Instead, a motion from him let Arienne know now was the time to drop a Mez on her. He thanked his friend before examining the proposition of Arcalan. The base little creature wanted gold, and not too much at that. But this was extortion, and furthermore Toorc was not convinced that she really would keep her word. Crispian had of late suffered a lot, and further aggravation, though it would pass, would best be avoided for now. With a sigh, he wrote her a promissory note that the League would redeem for the value of 100 gold. A small price to entertain this viper â€˜til he was at leisure to know what to do with her. Aellona's safety depended on his carefully dealing with the puzzle. ******** Arcalan snapped out of the mez to find a promissory note to the effect of 100 gold, and Toorc long gone. She instantly knew a witch from the Academy must have entranced her. Curse them all to the pits of hell! Now she knew that Toorc would feel her wrath too one day. But as yet she was not strong enough to carry out the plan... and the master was not yet ready. A few moments later she set out to talk to Crispian..., she would use her knowledge to gain a foothold into the League. ****** Crispian leaned back in his chair, scowling at the bash Saracen before him. Tannir stood quietly near the door, and Jashen was, well, close. â€œWhat do you want?â€ he repeated, his seneschal signet tapping at the writing table. â€œIt is as I said. I want admission to the League, access to her vaults, and membership. There are those who are not friends to the League and would value the information that I have,â€ the young woman said calmly. â€œIâ€™m not worried about my enemies,â€ Crispian snapped. â€œI can handle them myself.â€ His gray eyes flashed anger and rage at her. â€œDo not threaten me, woman!â€ â€œThere are those who would see your squeaky clean League, all shining and fair, ruined. Despite your amusements, shall we say, in the Shadow Quarter with young Tobyas, it is well known you are not a friend to those of the Shadow Guild.â€ Her look was derisive, bitter. Crispian snorted. â€œHow little you know of the League,â€ he snarled at her. â€œSome of our highest officers are from the Shadow Guild. We truly are open to all.â€ He was growing impatient with this little vixen. â€œObviously, some in your Guild value my silence, for I have already been paid, but gold only goes so far.â€ A slender eyebrow arched up. She studied Crispian closely, but his tight shuttered expression gave no hint or tip as to what he might be thinking. â€œIf you intend to harm the League,â€ he said with a deadly calm, â€œI will destroy you in fashions even you cannot imagine.â€ He had moved not an inch, remaining calmly watching her as he would a skald coming into crossbow range. â€œYou will be watched closer that you can possibly imagine. One false step, one hint of betrayal and you will die.â€ Arcalan repressed a smirk of satisfaction. â€œJust for the record, I do have, shall we say accounts, of my knowledge in safe hands. Should something happen to me, they will be brought to light.â€ Even as she suppressed a slight rush of fear, she saw that this engagement was hers. â€œWould it not be better to watch me from a close distance than to wonder what I might be up to out there?â€ She gestured vaguely out at the courtyards and streets of Camelot. â€œIâ€™ll see to your induction, but you will be watched, Cabalist.â€ He snarled the last word as he waved dismissal to her. She rose, passing out of the office, and even before the door was fully closed, Jashen was out the window to make his own contacts, sliding from third floor to the ground like a squirrel down a tree. ******************** "You let her join?" Toorc's voice was incredulous. "Aye" admitted Crispian "She has promised to renounce her evil ways in return for a place where she can learn from us" "You've a soft heart Crispian" said Toorc, "I knew the mere threat of trying to scandalize you would not be enough. But mark me well, she's pure evil. I have my own reasons for keeping her alive and well right now, but I'd have kept her a safe distance from us. Her word means nothing to her." "Dear Toorc you fret over this too much. That young Cleric Ceowyr, brother to noble Ceowyn, has become her confessor, and tells me he does think Arcalan rightly repents of her sinful past" counseled Crispian. Toorc left it at that, but now he knew that things were going to get worse here before they got better. And he'd have to ensure Ceowyr didn't take his eye off of her.... **** Ceowyr passed a goblet of wine over to Arcalan, and she drained it dry. The two sat in a deserted shack in Campacorentin Forest, free to talk away from the crowds of Camelot. "We've done well this week" she purred "and grow in power daily" "I agree" he replied "But we've not finished this yet" "Patience" she said "And don't take your eye off of me... I have the feeling Toorc will meddle with the plan, and I don't want to be caught off guard" "My guise as your confessor makes that very easy" Ceowyr said, smiling with devious glee "I don't expect we'll have too much trouble from the League" They exchanged a conspiratorial, intimate stare as the flames in the fireplace began to die. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian spared few thoughts for Arcalan, or any else, as the battles raged across the frontier. Since the two strength relics had been brought back to Castle Excalibur, it seemed that a moment of peace in the vast wilderness of the Frontier had been unknown. Midgard hordes streamed through the Mile Gate and Albion rallied for defense. At one point, Crispian had commanded a splintered force spread through four keeps and with his own patrol making fast for the Mile Gate. The Children of Ether, Royal Order of Knights, and members of Omnia Patricius were out in deployment with him. The constant push of command, making decisions with little hard information, was showing. Crispian snapped and barked out orders where he would request things otherwise, knowing that the request would carry weight. He constantly sent word back to the Alliance for more people, and even admonished Auntie Mir and Uncle Oak for continuing to clear the Diamondbacked Toads from Lyn Barfog, something that in normal moments he knew would aid the region as much as frontier defense. His breaking point came at the Mile Gate. The unintended ursurpation of Glavian's command finally snapped reality into place. With shame, Crispian informed his splintered groups that Glavian commanded. Moryan and Gwiniviere scowled at him, his rash actions so out of keeping with what they knew of him. He intended to retire to Cornwall. The battle had worn him through. The port was just over, bringing him back to Sauvage. He stepped out into the Albion sun and yanked off his helm. His golden hair was plastered to his head with three days of sweat and grime and his gambeson was offensive even to him. His feet found way to the stablemaster, and he was digging out the silvers for a horse, checking to make sure he had plenty for ale later. A voice interrupted his thoughts. "Crispian?" the light tenor called. Crispian turned around and was face to face with Tobyas. The young cleric, he had to admit, looked splendid. The alloy studded leather he wore was broken in and accentuated the build it hid. His fine titian hair gleamed in the sun. And his smile...so welcome after the last days. "Brother Tobyas," Crispian said, feeling a smile come to his face. "What brings you here?" He felt a surge of relief and thoughts of deep ale kegs with Cornish brew in it fled. "I was riding to Camelot. I was told Camlin has some armor that I might be able to borrow," he said, eyes playing over Crispian's face in a fashion that made him very aware of his stubbled chin and dirt smeared face. "Well, care to stop over to Ludlow, then? I could use a bath and some company would be welcome," Crispian said, telling himself it was just the comradeship of the League, brother to brother. But the young cleric's nod filled him with other feelings. "That would be very pleasant," Tobyas said, turning shy as he did. *************** As the two made their way toward Ludlow, hiking over the pass out of the Sauvage approach, a snicker rose into a chuckle and then a laugh. "Drink will drown your thought, The Lad will deal with ought Else as is Needed. Soon thy soul will be bought, The Last battle havin' been fought. And I will hold the deed!" D'Vena sat back and surveyed the scene playing before her, watched them retire into an inn together, and toyed with a letter, soon to be sent. Sometimes, the best tools were the simplest, she thought as she laughed again, thought fleeing even her mind as she did so. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/shameless OOC bump ((You're welcome for yelling. Don't leave poor Crispian hanging in D'vena's grip! He's been through enough already!)) /end shameless OOC bump -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian pulled a fresh tunic on having packed his armor carefully into his traveling bags. The bath had invigorated him and refreshed him. Now, he and Tobyas sat in a small room above the tavern in Ludlow. Tobyas finished lacing his jerkins back up. An awkward silence filled the room as both of them restored their clothing and personal items. Finally, Crispian broke the silence. "I'm not sure things can continue like this, Toby." He was pulling on his city boots, worn leather that had long seen much service. "I know that, well, whatever it is that I feel and," he finished lacing the side of the boot up and tied it, "well, do with you is driven by D'Vena." Tobyas paused, the laces dropping from his fingers. His eyes narrowed. "Just by D'Vena? So this," he gestured at the mussed cot Crispian sat on, "was just the by-product of some spell?" His lips tightened into a thin line. "And I guess I am, too, then, right?" Crispian watched Tobyas' every gesture and change of expression. "No, Toby, it's not like that." He stood, looking up at Tobyas. "I mean," he tried to figure out all the confusion, what was magicks, what was him. "I dunno what IS what. But, until she cast this, this curse or whatever on me I never would have..." He let the sentence hang in the air. "Known man, in the biblical sense?" Tobyas sneered at him, fingers tugging the laces of his jerkin into place. "Is that it? What you wanted to say? Well?" His green eyes bore into Crispian's gray, until the armsman turned away. "I guess so, yes," he said quietly, scooping up belt and sword. He tugged the end of the belt into place, looping it to secure it in place. The plain white leather of a knight contrasted with the simple garb he wore, but Crispian felt no need to conceal his knightly status ever. Toby came up behind Crispian, hands setting on his shoulders. "Consider this, your Lordship. D'Vena's curse may be pushing you into indulgences, but at least I won't torture you about it." He felt Crispian's shoulders sag. "I worry about being, I dunno, I guess genuine, honest, or something, with you, Toby." He drew a deep breathe, closing his eyes for a moment. "I think we should just try to get through this D'Vena thing without..." He paused again, the air eating his words it seemed. "Indulging?" Tobyas finished, turning Crispian to face him. "It shall be as you command, noble Seneschal," he smirked. "But I don't think it will be as easy as staying sober." Crispian laughed. "It seems the witch has challenges aplenty for me then, Toby." He drew away, finishing his packing of gear. "But now, to Camelot." He hefted his pack as Tobyas finished settling his gear in place. They slipped out the back and into the eve, blending with the people of Ludlow before turning for the hike over the hills into Camelot. Tobyas was nervous, for he had not been to the city since the night at the Church and was nervous. What would the League think of them arriving together? Or others? He breathed a prayer to the Almighty as they passed the warders of the North Gate. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The Welcome in the city was indeed brief. The Council of Seneschals, leader of St. Crispin's League, had assembled. The Guardians of Val Sans Retour had left the Alliance. Much arguement and debate arose, some with voices barely in check. Demotion was discussed, but in the end, Crispian stood to his own fault for the matter. Following the conference, he and Darnyk, who was charged with his behavior, retired to Cornwall and Lyonesse. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump <waits impatiently for more...> -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The League Hall was quiet, for almost all memers had been sent on errands this morning. Sunlight had begun to filter across the rooftops of Camelot, and there was a hint of rain to come later in the day. A soft breeze floated behind Toorc, stirring things as he walked softly down the hall, ready to billow into a speedy run at a moments need. He turned the corner to be confronted with the young Lord Crispian, looking out of the window. Toorc approached his friend Crispian with some reluctance. He had always believed that Crispian's strength of will would pull him through the trials with which he was recently beset, but the letter from Arienne's research showed he faced more than anyone had suspected. The demons Crispian faced were all too real, feeding from the soul of D'Vena, the pain of Crispian... consuming and blackening all. The gigantic Avalonian towered over Crispian, a moment that would have been comic had the situation not been so grave. "My friend" Toorc began "The League is in good hands, and the countryside is well patrolled by our alliance. Midguard has lost much of her glory in battle, though they reamin a dire threat." he sighed "but I mean not to trouble you with other matters..." Crispian sighed, his head in his hands "Master Toorc, she's in here, all the time" he tappped his head "and the Laughter... the pain of it" his face contorted briefly, but in pain or rage it was impossible to tell. "Toby awaits you outside Crispian, Ceomyr and Phalos stand watch alongside him. Soon you will set out for Llyn Barfog, but I have something to give you first" Toorc moved over to a cabinet and opened it to reveal a block of stone. He placed his hand against the smooth surface and it sank into the depths of the rock. The element seemed like water to Crispian, when under Toorc's touch, and as Crispian watched a ripple did indeed seem to cross the surface. Slowly Toorc withdrew something, a flash of gold was seen, black leather and an emerald set in... a hilt, yes, as his hand withdrew the blade emerged from the stone. It's metal was black and dull, and a strange patern was etched very lightly down the blade. The craftsmanship was astounding, and Crispian best of all appreciated the masterpiece he set his eyes upon. "I had the privillage of handling the Tome of Fate" remaked Toorc, holding the blade up to the light "before it fell into the hands of Morgana. Most of it was beyond my ability to decipher, as was intended, but some things of interest were to be read there." The sunlight did not gleam off of the blade, but instead it's surface seemed to hold the light, reflect nothing, and remain impenetrably dark. "I read of this very blade, and I know it's destiny." Toorc placed the blade reverantly across Crispians outstretched arms, that he may examine it better "It was taken from a Reaver, dread servants of Lord Arwan, who hold dominion over the dead. I came by it in pursuit of a great evil that s now taking shape, though I cannot tell yet quite what that is..." Toorc turned to Crispian "It is the blade that slays D'Vena" Crispian began to shake violently, and the blade clattered to the ground. For a moment Toorc moved to steady his friend, but Crispian held up a hand to stay him. Slowly, and with great effort Crispian stood up straight and ceased his palsy. The gleam in his eye was like the diamond dug from the bowels of the earth, maginifcant yet terrible in having been dragged to the surface. Toorc could only guess from where his friend's fortitude arose, but he knew for certain it was no magic that aided him thus. Slowly Crispian stooped and picked up the blade. Held it, and tested it's balance. "You will know when you are strong enough to use it" said Toorc. Suddenly Toorc glance over his shoulder at the empty air. His face broke into a grin, and his eyes instantly sought out the silver ring on Crispin's finger. "I have one more thing to tell you, dear friend... but it's not for the ears of elves!" With that a sphere of magic settled around them, obscuring the scrying of certain Hibernian magics </grin> When Crispian emerged, horses were saddled and waiting for him. Toorc appeared at his right hand. "I have another journey I must undertake Crispian, to the Halls of the Corrupt. A lot is resting in the balance this day, but only my blessings can accompany you on the road you must tread" The brothers in arms saluted each other, and Toorc mounted his steed, and rode off. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian rode in the company of Phalos, Ceowyr, Tobyas, his brother Jashen, and Achou are far the Retreat deep in the Swamp. His horse minced at the ground under his control as he watched the group dismount. "Keep yourselves safe," he said, raising a hand in farewell, "and grow stronger for the realm." Jashen, decked out in new chain armor, saluted his brother with a grin. "Stop worrying, Cris. We'll be fine. Phalos has promised to protect us." The mercenary smirk impishly at his armsman brother. "And who better than a sorcerer to guard you, right?" Phalos scowled at the quip. "I just might not mezz the ones headed your way, Jashen," he said mildly, arching an eyebrow. Turning his horse in a tight circle, Crispian could not help but smile. That his brother seemed safe from the curse he carried was relief, even for all else that was happening. "Keep yourself well, too, Tobyas." The young cleric met his leige's eyes for a moment then looked away. In the past days, Crispian had been removed and distant from him, and it pained him. He knew that laws, convention, and even Crispian himself did not make romantic entanglements easy. However, the recent emotional removal had hurt him. "And you, m'lord," he said with a formal bow. He did not look as the armsman rode off, but made a pretense of checking his gear, hiding his face from all others. "And may the Lord Almighty watch thee," he whispered. Crispian rode the rest of the way to Cornwall, thinking on the blade, D'Vena, the strange absences of Carrington, Moryan, even Arguyle. This whole mess was dragging on and he felt at times near to breaking, and at others as resolute as ever. Azi was even around less these passed days. He stabled his own horse and sought out Darnyk, but even the Black Friar was apparently not around at the moment. With a shrug, he entered into the tavern/roadway house and sat at a scarred table. The business of Cornwall filtered heavily into this place and many familiar faces came and went. The quiet was annoying. Not that Cornwall station was a solemn place, but the way people would move away from him, seeming to go out of their way. Finally, with a signal, he ordered ale. The fine Cornish brew went down in an easy swallow. When was the last time he had had Cornish ale? The night of the letters, before Tinalynth suddenly left the Covenant, before Kelvyn, the tower, the dead elf. Gods, that was weeks ago. So much tormoil. Alliances falling, Guilds being shattered. As he started the second mug of ale, Crispian reflected on it all. How much tied to D'Vena? Or was there something more going on? Or was it just politics? The third ale helped to clear his thinking of those matters and he chuckled. What did an armsman, a farmer with a sword, know about politics anyhow? He laughed again, a bit louder. And deep in Barfog, hidden from hunting parties who had been about in the area, many led by Mirashta and Oakleif, another laughed, and sipped at her third goblet of wine. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Stumbling up the stairs at Cornwall, Crispian took to a familiar room. He paid extra to have it clean, with water for bath and a stand for his armor. He sagged down on the bed, eyes vacant, ale fumes filling the small room as he slumped down on the narrow cot. The night's dreams were of a familiar type to him by now. Failures rolled out, one atop the other. Deaths in battle, smaller failures in life, his own lost love from late childhood, absent friends, the slighting of Tatyanna, the losses to the League of so many good people, the departure of Guardians of Val Sans Retour from Omnia Patricius, his own failed drive to hunt more agressively, raids on the frontier...not one shred of possible hope revealed itself as he slept, tossing and moaning with the torment brought forth. D'Vena toyed with her mini-figure of Crispian, enjoying the moment and the wonderful taste of his pain and anguish. Why had she not found such a joyous pass time before? So much easier than her many past meddlings, even if the cost to her was greater. But she had her freedom, and more. She smirked as she turned to the blond Briton sleeping in her bed chamber, already thinking of the horrors he would go through for his resemblence to he who had slighted her, used her passions against her. Oh yes, this little toy would suffer for Crispian's boldness, she thought. And none would stop her. So many foes were gone from the land and she had not even lifted finger against them. She smiled to herself, allowing the sinister laughter in her head to fill her with a shiver of joy. But, now was time for work... A scream pierced the halls of her manse at the exact moment Crispian sat bolt right up in the cot, a sudden pain in his palm waking him. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Daphnie_GVSR Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bumpity bump bump -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian sat up with a groan, his head swimming. The world tilted for a moment then steadied itself. He held his head in his hands for a few moments, breathing deeply. The tankard and pitchers in the room spoke enough to him of all that had passed the night before, or was it two days ago? He could barely keep track. His entire body felt like he had been on the frontier for a week, with aches and pains all over the place but not a bruise to be seen. He limped slowly to the chamber pot and managed to use it without incident. He knew he had not been to the frontier, indeed had only been to Camelot in the last few days. He recalled the Church, seeing Gybryn promoted in the Black Shield, adding the Dragons of Avalon and Children of Light to the Alliance. He also recalled Mirashta taking care of something with Cow Tipping Marauders. He winced, in pain mostly. But what else? This dull ache was with him almost constantly. Why? He looked over some correspondence, left at the bar downstairs and brought up sometime during the night. Throdien was dead. A madness possessing him. "Damn her," he whispered as he looked through more. Tinalynth gone from the Covenant...Laraleloth and Kelvyn, also. He groaned at that, for he had much respect for the Covenant. A report from Jashen about Arcalan. He squinted as he read it, not liking some of the tone. He quaffed some ale and chewed on dried chicken legs as he read, grease smearing the pages. "Cris- Have been watching the recruit you wanted watched. Reports of odd meetings and I have added others to observation list as well. I do not trust her, but have spent much time hunting with. A foul wench that even your Moryan would not want to bandy words with. Am not convinced that her intent was only bribery. More treachery could be afoot. Jash" ---- He signed the missive, sealing it with his siglil, and put it into Tannir's hands. "He's in Cornwall, again," was all the young mercenary said to the squire. Shifting his hauberk, he stepped out of the Tower of the Marsh. Tobyas, Achou, Arcalan and others were there. "We ready to hunt?" he asked plesantly. Arcalan quirked an eyebrow. "Are you sure you can fight, mercernary?" she quipped, venom dripping from her words. Jashen checked his temper. He wished things were moving forward with Crispian's curse, or getting rid of it. Then he could have at this Cabalist. "But of course, Arcalan. Are you sure you can cast a spell still?" "HiYas! Let's go fight!" Achou hopped up and headed off down the road, not allowing much more time for arguing with the cabalist. The little saracen knew it would be a long hunt as it were. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi gracefully dismounted her horse in the Marsh, delighting in the soft jingle of her fresh new suit of chain mail. She shifted her sword on her back, adjusted her plain blue cloak, and breathed a deep breath. Even the murky swamp air seemed refreshing after her long retreat, she thought to herself. As she squished her way along the shore, she thought of the League, and wondered whether they would understand her choice, after knowing her as a wizard for so long. Jashen and his friends had accepted her as a paladin, though he called her by her new name now, which was her old name... Azaeli. "Azi" had been too familiar, he had said to her before she had gone off on retreat, when they had hunted together in the Marsh. Somehow that made her sad, as if she had been two seperate people, and her old self had been forgotten. But, she thought, Jashen was kind to keep her secret from the League. Mostly, she was lonesome for the old chatter of the guild as they hunted. But more than that, Azaeli was concerned about Crispian. It had been too long since she'd seen him, and she knew that the curse of that wicked woman still tortured him. Maybe her tale of overcoming a curse herself would give him hope. Yes, she thought, it was time to tell Crispian of her choice, and that she had been meant to be a paladin all along. And so the mud of the Marsh sucked at her boots as she searched for Jashen... -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The days of hunting had pulled them ever south, and Jashen found himself not far from the Station at Cornwall, slaying the hunters who preyed on Albions who passed through the area, in addition to other wild prey. Not often during the hunts had he been far from the Cabalist Arcalan. He found it hard to fathom how Achou could be a light-hearted, fun-loving individual and Arcalan could be so full of festering anger. It concerned him, but her constant running jibes put him on the offensive when near her. And today, he had reached a breaking point. â€œAchou, you best keep a close eye on this one,â€ she had said, leaning back in the grass. â€œIt is in his family to turn to drink.â€ Achou had laughed. â€œIâ€™m no worried. He fun hunting companion and keep Achou plenty safe.â€ Jashen had been glad for the vote of confidence from Achou, and Phalos had nodded in agreement as well. â€œBut just look to his brother, who has sunk to such depth. Of course,â€ she quipped cruelly, â€œhe probably drinks to forget Jashen is his brother.â€ Her lips twisted into a cruel smile. â€œThat is enough out of you, woman,â€ Jashen hissed. â€œIâ€™ll have you not speak about my brother so again.â€ His anger was high, a vessel pounding in his forehead and his light coloring not hiding how his face flushed with blood. â€œThen perhaps you should learn to respect your betters, boy,â€ she snapped back, eyes flashing anger. â€œYouâ€™d have to be my better first,â€ he spat back at her. â€œMy brother fights foes akin to your kind, casters who loose evil upon the world. He is a stronger person than you can hope to ever become!â€ Her eyes narrowed. â€œBe careful, young mercenary, for curses may run in your family.â€ Her eyebrows danced in anger even as her eyes flashed. Tobyas looked up from the breviary upon his lap. â€œShould such a thing happen to Jashen, Iâ€™ll be aware of it,â€ he said, his voice a calm tenor amid the hissing comments tossed about. â€œThen you can care for him when he is so beset, and keep an eye out,â€ Arcalan through at Tobyas. The young clericâ€™s expression changed not the least little bit. â€œOf course, Iâ€™ll know the source as well, Arcalan, and actions will be taken,â€ he said just as calmly as he started. More would have followed, no doubt, had a Cornwall Leader and two hunters not chosen that moment to spring from the tree line and attack. Even in the heat of battle, harsh looks flew back and forth between the group, although neither blow nor lethal spell landed on any but the foe. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azaeli picked her way out of the mud to find more solid ground. It had been a weary search, and the sun had set more than an hour ago. She resigned herself to give up for the night, and headed south toward Cornwall's Inn. She winced at the thought of the tavern's smokey stench and stinking crowd, but it was too late to ride back home to Camelot, and her legs ached from her struggle with the mud. She kept off of the road, hoping the wet grass would clear some of the muck from her boots as she walked. Then, toward the treeline, she heard a faint bickering, and the clash of battle. A familiar voice called out, Jashen's voice. She smiled to herself and made her way over. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((Copied from the St. Crispin's League Guild Forms with some time-line additions)) The Hunt in Cornwall had ended near the catacombs, with the members splitting up. Jashen and Achou headed to Caer Witrin, while Arcalan and Ceowyr both expressed need to return to Camelot, as did Phalos. The trip to Witrin was nerve-wracking for Jashen, for he hated letting the Cabalist Arcalan out of his sight for longer than was needed. Upon arrival, he sent word to Allanon, a fellow mercenary and a Seneschal of the Leauge, to keep an eye out for Arcalan, and to deploy other eyes. The Infiltrators of the League would be busy for as long as she was in town. -------- Pompin the Crier was a happy man. Several ales and a lot of flirting with that wench from the tower had put him in cheerful spirits this night as he walked back towards the gate, and the chill in the night air did little to spoil his mood. He whistled to himself as was his want to do (for Pompin had narrowly missed a calling as a minstrel) and walked briskly yet somewhat erratically through the streets of Camelot. A mounting pressure on his bladder told him he'd not make it home in time to relieve it, so Pompin staggered a little into an alley way and began to fumble with his breeches. His world exploded into a wall of utter darkness, with strange impossible colours zigzagging and bursting before his eyes. Then the pain caught up with him. The back of his head had just been hit with what he presumed was a Trollhammer, and his face had split upon the wall of "The Stone" tavern, leaving a bloody gash across his cheek and a nose mashed into an unrecognisable shape. His cry was a whimper, his mouth filled with blood and bits of his teeth. Pompin tried to spin round and face his attacker, but his vision was blurred from the impact. He spun enough to catch sight of what was no doubt a troll. It's massive fist caught him in the belly, sending the contents of his stomach burning up through his throat, and knocking the wind out of him. He fairly bounced off the wall again and slumped to the street, the blueish grey mountain in front of him swimming in his vision. He knew he was a dead man, and his brain filled suddenly with wondering how a troll got inside Camelot, and if that wench from the tower would cry for him. He pondered briefly if he'd have had a better life in Humberton or Lethantis, but realised he'd been happy in Cotswald. Fifty trivial and silly thoughts seemed to echo in his head as he faced death head on. The stone fist was raised once more and he realised it wasn't a troll at all.. it was a simulacrum, a Cabalist's Golem... Pompin tried to scream out murder, but the most that emerged was a rather gurgling screech. The fist flew towards him, seemingly time slowed down to a crawl as the massive inexorable fist that would end his life loomed large. A second passed and Pompin realised the fist had stopped an inch or two from his face. He'd been spared! His brain immediately sobered up and ran through a list of who this beating could be from. Who had he upset? The Guild of Shadows? Perhaps he'd find out now. A figure appeared behind the golem.. a woman. She'd explain. The blue-grey stone stone giant stood back a little, and light flared aroung the womans's hands. Maybe the spell was to heal? To capture? To... Red mist swirled above Pompin's head and he realised that he had not been spared at all. Arcalan held the Soul Gem she and Ceowyr had taken from a Moor Boogey in her hands and cast the Essence Consumption spell on the bleeding mass that was Pompin. With care she focused the last of his lifeforce into the crystal, sucking his soul into an eternal prison. Pompin screamed. regardless of his wounded body, regardless of how little fight was left in him, the tortured howl of Pompin the Crier ripped through the night as body and soul were forcibly torn apart. Inside "The Stone" Tavern Ceowyr heard the scream. Everyone leapt up, and one or two of the guards drew weapons and rushed out of the door. The alley was deserted save for the mangled form of Pompin. Arcalan was some distance away and moving through a tunnel beneath the city that would lead to the Guild of Shadows, clutching the now Glowing Soul Gem tightly in her fist, and bursting with excitement and success. Ceowyr pushed his way forward in the crowd around Pompin. "I'm a Cleric, let me past" he declared trying to see where Pompin lay. A guard went to stop him then withdrew his hand. "Hey there, you're one of master kel's boys aren't you? I served in Swanton for a spell a few years back, and we was friends. Can you heal this here fella?" He gestured to Pompin's corpse. "THe Lord does not always grant the boon of life again, for his ways are infinitie and Divine" said Ceowyr piously "But we shall see" Ceowyr gestured in prayer and supplication, and chanted low under his breath. Those who knew the exact meaning of those words he chanted would have paled in terror, but no member of the Clergy was here to interpret, and all eyes were focused on poor Pompin, or searching the area for his attacker. With a dazzling burst of light Pompin was restored to life, shakey and feeble, but clinging to life nonetheless. "Merciful Heavens, praise be to the Lord our God for this restoration of the precious gift of life!" People cheered and a few quick prayers of thanks were sent heavenward. "Pompin?" asked a guard "Who did this? Who attacked you?" Pompin looked up bleary eyed and weak as a kitten "Sa.. say.." he stuttered "Saint Crispin..." he all but passed unconcious. The guard eyed Ceowyr with alarm. "What does he mean?" the guard asked "A member of Saint Crispin's attacked him? Or did he just recognise your emblem" he said pointing to Ceowyr's League symbol. "I know not, but you'll get no more from this man tonight" said Ceowyr lifting the unconscious Pompin in his arms "He needs rest and recouperation, for he's not a warrior, and is not used to this sickness" The guard nodded sullenly "When he comes round inform us good Cleric" "I shall that" and Ceowyr passed out of the crowd with his burden. He took him to a small room out in Cotswald, that Pompin called home, and laid him upon the bed. A shadow in the corner moved to reveal itself as Arcalan, lurking in the dark. She lit a candle and carried it to the bedside. Pompin's eyes fluttered open and a voice emerged from his lips, a voice that sounded like two men speaking... one Pompin, the other a richer, deeper voice, full of arrogance and gloating. "Excellent" it said. "Welcome Master" said Arcalan, with a curtsey "Glory and Approbation to thy name" "Welcome Master" chimed in Ceowyr "We are your servants, and await your command" "You have done well" said the twin voice "go now and get me sustenanace. I have much to do" Arcalan produced a pendant "I have already begun Master" and she backed out of the room, curtseying as she left. Ceowyr stayed a little longer, to tend to the body of Pompin and it's new inhabitant. ______________________________________________________ Somewhere in Llyn Barfog Oaklief and his wife Mirashta shuddered in unison. Something was very wrong... -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Greymalkin332 Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/thinks Crispian has been taking writing lessions from Azi /shudder /bump -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	(most of that was Toorc's not mine) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<rubs her goosebumps> -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/shameless bump 'cause I got a star! -----signature-----
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{old}LadyWinterborne Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	ooc I don't know if anyone has said this lately, or perhaps they have, but damn, man...keep it coming. It is great that threads like this can always be seen on the first page of the VN Boards everytime I check it in the morning. Heck, if I was half the writer as you and Azi... Cheers! -Winterborne -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	OOC- but you are. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen came down from the tower of Caer Witrin having just met with his trainer. The skills he was learning were progressing nicely, but he had enough of hunting for today. In the traveler's room, he met Achou. They settled into a table, a tankard of ale in front of him, frothy from the tap and a flask in the Cabalist's hand. They sipped at their drinks and sat in silence for a few moments. "So, what do you make of this Arcalan woman? Is she as bad as she builds herself to be, or do you think I overreact to her, because she threatens Cris?" Jashen asked when half his tankard was gone. Despite being 'employer' for this hunt, Achou was also a good friend and a trusted advisor. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Sipping on his whiskey, Achou was lost in thought of his own. Not that any of his traveling companions seemed to care, He had his hired sword Jashen always comparing him self to some Crispian, and a cleric the happened a pond them with Crispian always on his mind. And lately he has acquired a Sorcerer name Phalos and another cabalist named Arcalan, one would thing these two mages were an old married couple from the way the bicker back and forth. And this Arcalan wench has mouth on here to send a troll back to his â€˜mama. On top of all of this, he came to find out he is no longer welcome at the Adrobodâ€™s Retreat. It appears Lord Adrobod has taken a disliking to the guild of shadows for some reason and will not but up with hem in his keep. But Witern has been a welcoming home for now, until I can get back to my home land of Lyonesse. Back at the Lordâ€™s Arse Achou had head that Lyonesse had fallen under Morganaâ€™s evil ways. So he had decided to head home and â€œcleanseâ€ that Morgana has done to the once beautiful. Just as he was starting to remember how nice his home once was, Jashen came down from one of the Guild trainers at Witern, pick up the tankard of ale that was placed down for him and ask â€œ"So, what do you make of this Arcalan woman? Is she as bad as she builds herself to be, or do you think I overreact to her, because she threatens Cris?" â€œSimple Jashen, she is playing with you, her breed all seems to think they are better than any one, and she lacks the ability to have fun!â€ Achou said almost gleefully â€œ think of the Hunter we were battling with the other night, she was More than willing to send her Golem in to combat and say FAR away from then casting her spells, but the first hit or even the threat of a hit, she takes off running aroundâ€ â€œaye, sire, I guess you may be right on this oneâ€ Jashen mumbled ordering another Ale. â€œLike I said, she just thinks she is all might, remember Phalos, same back grounds, but he is much more civil, and down to earthâ€ Achou said getting off the stool. Well, Merc, I think it is time for some rest, we still need to get back to Cornwall, and await Tobyasâ€™s return. With that Achou headed out side and called for Emily, â€œJashen, before we camp the night here, care to see Emily play, just a bitâ€ -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	They strolled out into the evening light of Cornwall, walking down the road, dusty from the lack of rain. Achou, with a gesture, sent Emily, his emerald simulacrum, off at a Cornwall hunter who had the poor luck to be close to the road. "She worries me, with her secret meetings," Jashen said as he calmly knocked an arrow to his short bow and sped it off at the hunter. Not that Emily needed much help pummeling the poor man. Achou shrug. "Times will tell." They continued on and reached the station at Cornwall, awaiting the return of Tobyas. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Smiling happily to herself, Azaeli strode gracefully past the Guardianâ€™s guild toward the market square and the Dye shop. After days of hunting in Keltoi, her pack was heavy with Vindicator plate mail, and she could finally wear it, having reached her twentieth season. â€œRed, ugh.â€ she mumbled to herself as she ducked in to the shop. In her excitement, she almost collided with a tall avalonian. Golden-brown hair tumbled against her freshly-dyed reddish tunic, and she set an icey glare on Azi that made her shiver. â€œMy apologies, lady cabalist,â€Azi said quickly. The cabalist slowly ran her eyes along Aziâ€™s face. "It is well.. do I not know you from somewhere?" She narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps we have hunted together" Azi answered, noting that she wore the Leagueâ€™s emblem. "By thy Season I think not" she sneered. "Well then, I have hunted with Jashen and Tobyas of the League. Perhaps they spoke of me and you remember my name." Azi tried to still herself, there was something about this woman that made her very uncomfortable. "I have hunted with them much, but no I recall thy face.." "Well, my father is the smith here...perhaps you visited his shop with your hunting companions?" The cabalistâ€™s face darkened slightly. "You have been in the company of young Lord Crispian I think.." Azi hid her surprise well, so she had been, but not for weeks, and what business of hers was it? "Yes, Crispian is a friend, though I have not seen him for some time" "Yes I recall you on his arm once" Arcalan pointed a slender finger at her, waving it slightly in thought. "Tis plainer now you are out of armor." Azi had removed her old sleeves and vest as they spoke, to sell to the merchant. The womanâ€™s voice was grating, though unremarkable. Azi felt something familiar about it, something dark and unpleasant. She tried desperately to pinpoint it, this cabalist was trouble, she could tell straight away. And why all of the interest with Crispian, she wondered. "Well,â€ Azi said cheerily, â€œI apologize, but I know not your face. Are you new to the League?" "Aye, kind Crispian was good enough to give me shelter and such delights as the League offers..." She laughed to herself, a wry grin twisting at the corner of her mouth. "Yes indeed... and you have not become part of it's structure? This Guild of Peers that accepts even a Cabalist?" "I shall be joining the League soon enough. It is such a pleasant group,â€ she caught herself from saying I miss them, â€œI had been waiting to see my lord Crispian...but that is a long tale that I wish not to speak of." The cabalist raised her eyebrows with interest. "Nay speak and I'll relay your words to him my dear child." She said gently. Still, Azi felt a chill. This woman had no good heart, how had she gotten entry to the League? "I wish to tell him myself, but I thank you." "As you wish," she waved her hand dismissively. "Has he been seen as of late?" "He has, I believe some Holy men are to hold a ceremony in Hadrian's Wall this eve,â€ she watched Azi closely, "He has gone to attend it." "Is that so? I had not heard of such a ceremony, though I have been training so hard lately it is a wonder I still know how to make my way along the city streets." She chuckled, and felt a cold stone in the pit of her stomach as the cabalistâ€™s eyes narrowed yet again. "You look not unlike young Tobyas, a Cleric of the League... and close personal friend of Crispian's.â€ She watched Azi closely, as if to guage a reaction from her. "Well it does not suprise me to hear you say that, we are both of the Church, so we carry a holy aura with us I am certain." Azi shivered again, the cold warning was growing stronger, the woman radiated foulness. Why did Crispian or the League officers not see this in her? "Tobyas is a pleasant fellow." "Aye, pure and Holy indeed. Just exactly the type for a life of devotion..â€ she hesitated, her eyes darkening, â€œto God.â€ She flicked her eyes back to Aziâ€™s face quickly, noting the girl's shiver. â€œAh I have made you stand and talk too long a while in discomfort.â€ She smiled warmly. â€œBe about your ways young.. what did you say your name was?" "Azaeli, or Azi if it pleases you." "Azi... hmm.." A look of recognition crossed her face, "Well, I hope I'll see more of you before long.." "Please do me a favor if you will, and speak not of me yet to the League, until I can find Crispian and explain." Azi knew she could not trust this woman to keep any promise, but it had been too late to avoid her when they had collided in the litle shop, and so she had to ask at least. "I'll give Crispian your regards though shall I?" she smiled wickedly. Azi squeezed her eyes tightly closed and sighed. Her head was beginning to ache from the cold warnings. "I must take my leave," she said, desperate to be away from the woman. "Be well Azi," the woman smiled, "I would not hold you any longer..." "And you, lady... " Azaeli raised an eyebrow in question. "Arcalan." "Arcalan." Azi repeated, shivering again and pulling her cloak around herself. "I'm sure we'll know each other better in time," she stepped aside to let Azi pass, and together they walked out into the street. "I am certain of it," Azi answered. "Much better," she murmured, the evil aura emanating further. "God bless you and keep you in his Goodness," Azi said kindly, if not rather loudly, crossing herself and gesturing a blessing at the woman. "Mmm," Arcalan lowered her eyes, and for the first time looked uncomfortable. "And you Azi.. be safe." She made a motion, and a shield fell around her. "Farewell until next we meet." Azaeli said, taking a step back. She set her eyes on Arcalan with a meaningful gaze. She was not about to turn her back on the cabalist and walk away. Arcalon nodded curtly in resignation. "Until that time then,"Arcalan waved a graceful hand and rushed toward the gate. Azi made haste to the Church to see Lady Triss for training, and to pray for guidance with this Arcalan. The answer came clear, she must find Crispian and warn him, but she knew not where he was. Jashen had been in Cornwall hunting,she knew. She resolved to go there quickly to find out more about the cabalist, and to warn Jashen. Hastily, she purchased a fare to Caer Ulfwych and rode hard, dismounting as close to the keep as she could to fetch another horse to Cornwall. A chill of warning flushed through her again. She was surprised, and yet not so surpised, to see Arcalan standing there before the stablehand. The two curtseyed cordially to one another. â€œWe meet again so soon, lady,â€ Azi pulled off her barrel helm and shook out her golden hair. "And your armor looks splendid." "I thank you." "Are you making your way to Cornwall?" Arcalan asked, as if she knew the answer already. "Yes..that I was," Azi answered cautiously, "are you?" "I am indeed.â€ Her eyes lighted with evil delight, â€œWhy then I shall accompany you on the ride!" "I shall be happy to ride with you, milady," Azi replied, hiding her displeasure at the prospect of spending any more time with the woman than was absolutely necessary. "What a pleasure to speak with you further," Arcalan said. She, too was pretending. The tension was obvious between the two as the horses were brought out. "Indeed." Azi answered. "Well..shall we ride then?" "After you..." Arcalan bowed mockingly. Azi mounted the horse gracefully and nudged it hard, desperate to get as much distance between herself and the cabalist as possible. Her body tingled with the warning of evil as the horsesâ€™ hooves pounded through the muddy marsh. "You ride very fast!" Arcalan shouted to her. Azi frowned and nudged the horse again for speed. "Aye, all the sooner to hunt!" They arrived in Cornwall and she lowered herself from the horse and landed lightly in front of the cabalist. "You are indeed an accomplished rider," Arcalan smiled. "My thanks, lady," Azi answered, growing weary of the womanâ€™s false attempts at kindness. "Well, here we are then, and where does your hunt take you this night?" "I seek on young man in Jashen's company.. and you?" Arcalan answered. Azi fought back a frown. "I was going to seek Jashen, myself." She managed a smile. "So our travels together continue, I suppose." "How odd." Arcalan said pensively, "I think there's the hand of.. Fate in this." "Yes, the Lord works in strange ways." Azi said. Arcalan shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well.. lead on Paladin, lead on." She bowed with more flourish than was necessary. "You know your way out here then? Do you hunt in Cornwall oft?" "I know my way." "Does the Lord guide you?" she chided. Azi made a wide circle around a moor boogey and pulled her cloak tight around her, ignoring the woman. "There is a chill in the air tonight." Azi said. "You do shiver." Arcalan sounded almost amused by the observation. "Yes.." "Perhap you are not well," she goaded. "I assure you I am well. Quite well." "That's good to hear.. Iâ€™d hate for you to be in any discomfort." Azi felt rather than saw the sneer, and stopped short in the middle of the field to face the woman. "What a strange thing to say,â€ she said critically. "Why would you think that I was?" Arcalan waved her hand dismissively. Or so Azi thought. Before she could react, a rooter collided violently with her from behind, knocking Azi hard to the ground. Its deep purple eyes glared visciously at her as it raked a hoof across her chest. Teeth clamped into her arm, shredding it as another hoof tore at her face. Arcalan stood idle, watching as darkness overcame Azi. And as Azi stood over her own body, Arcalan spoke into the air. "And yet the creature left me unharmed. I'd make peace with their masters if I were you Azi." She said coldly. Azi woke at the bindstone and reeled with the sickness that always overcame her after death. Hastily, without even seeing a healer, she rushed to the stable and rode hard to Cornwall. That foul woman. Had it been done on purpose, had she wished to rid herself of Azi for the time? She pushed the thought away and rode faster, arriving at Cornwall in record time. Arcalan was nowhere to be seen, but Azi was relieved to Jashen milling with a group of the League just down the road from the Catacombs. He bowed low to her as she neared, and Azi curtseyed. "Jashen, greetings!" She pulled off her helm and delighted in Jashen's shocked expression. "Hail Dear Azi!" he smiled with delight. "How have you been?" "I am quite well, thank you." Azi gestured to her new armor with pride. Jashen eyed her appreciatively. "Cris is going to freak ye know," he grinned. "Is he?" She smiled, blushing deeply. "In armor like that?â€ Jashen smiled broadly. â€œAye, he will." Aziâ€™s expression darkened, she lowered her voice considerably as the others chatted amongst themselves. "Would that I could speak with him, know you where he is?" she said. "Aye, he will want to speak with you as soon as possible, dearest. But he is away in Hadrianâ€™s Wall, on the frontier. Tis far too dangerous a place to travel for us." Azi nodded. "I need to speak with you, as well, friend. As soon as possible, without all of these ears about." She said to Jashen. He nodded, and said for all to hear, â€œWould ye care to join us in the hunt Azaeli?" "I would love nothing more, Jashen!" She answered, glad of a way to clear her mind. "Join us then!" He turned to the rest of them. "Shall we to the hunt?" -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	~~~OOC~~~ The preceding was a result of an impromptu Rp session when Arcalan and I bumped into each other in Camelot, and then again in CU.. Glad I turned on chatlog! Thanks Arc, was tons of fun -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	OOC- Posting these in sequence of events for me in game.... (Before Azaeli comes to Camelot) The forge near the round table was as crowded as it usually is when Crispian arrived. He heard an odd name, Perigrin, being said of a highlander. â€œYouâ€™re name for a Carolingian king?â€ He asked, mind a swirl in the early stages of a good, healthy drunk. The highlander looked up from his work. â€œI know nae meaning to me name other than me mom and da gave me it.â€ The Scot looked a bit uncertain of this new arrival to the forge area. Crispian nodded as he settled at a workbench. He set a fresh keg of ale beside himself and organized his tools. â€œAye, Perigrin the Short he was called. A descendent of Charlemagne himself,â€ Crispian explained, as he looked over his work area. The young highlander nodded with a grin. â€œMercenary king, Iâ€™d be! Well, Iâ€™ll take the title if they are offerinâ€™ it!â€ Others smiths about laughed and grinned at the comment and Crispian raised mug in salute. His grin turning to a scowl. Perigrin said, "Crispian ye look ta hold yer wepons an armor well enough, but seems yer ale has more hold of you than you of it.â€ He laughed deprecatingly. Crispian brandished his tankard boldly for a moment and said, â€œNay, the ale ish little fer me to hold!â€ He smacked his mug on the keg and topped it up. The mercenary lad laughed. â€œYe never spilt a drop? HAR!â€ he slapped his leg in humor. Crispian tipped the mug down. â€œWell, not never,â€ he grinned. â€œHorse rides can be jarring!â€ Perigrin shook his head and sighed, â€œye drunkard dont ye know tis why ye put it in a skin if ye are ta travel with it" Crispian tipped the tankard to lips again, and when it came down, the brief mirth was gone from his face. â€œBut let me tell ye, laddie, that sometimes the evil oâ€™ the world ish sho bad, ye a drink to push it off.â€ His face clouded in thought for a moment. â€œSkin? Skinsh donâ€™ hold enough laddie for the long huntsh down to the pigmen and treesh!â€ He pounded the tankard on his bench. Perigrin shook his head again, â€œYer wastinâ€™ good ale on the ground then,â€ he said quietly. Crispian gestured widely to a taller armored man at the forge. â€œAsk Dracone there. He knowsh what issh like. The tall, seasoned armsman looked over at Crispian. â€œWhat?â€ he said, eyebrows nettled. Crispian scowled at him. â€œYouâ€™ff been down to the pigmen and treesh!â€ he said overly loud. There were skill things about the prolonged hunts in sunken Lyonesse Crispian recalled all to clearly. Dracone tipped his head back with a laugh. â€œAye, I have!â€ Borgen, working near to Dracone, looked up. â€œEvilâ€™s shamans are enough to make anyone drink!â€ he said with a laugh. Dracone joined him in the humor. â€œAYE!â€ he said, louder than before. Apolexia, who knew Crispian by sight, raised her eyebrows. â€œIâ€™ve never heard of a â€˜goodâ€™ shaman,â€ she said. Borgen looked at Lexi with a slight grin. â€œGood at their craft, I meant,â€ he said. Crispian set his mug down with a bang. â€œShamansh? SHAMANSH?â€ he carped, voice rising high for a moment, then he turned more quiet. â€œOur own Sorcerssesh can be twisthed to evil,â€ he said darkly, draining of more ale. Dracone laughed again. â€œThatâ€™s why I am an armsman and simple minded.â€ He picked up a piece of metal and considered it. â€œThey have no interest in my thoughts whatsoever!â€ He set the metal down and started to order his tools for his next task. Draining off his mug again, Crispian scowled. â€œThatsh what I thunked too.â€ He muttered darkly. His tools were forgotten as he went over the haunting course of events these past weeks. Dracone, still moving his gear about, continued on. â€œThe darkiside look to corrupt me, then sees there is nothing there to corrupt.â€ He finished with a smile. Crispian pondered his words for a moment, beginning to move deeper in thought. Perigrin, noting how serious everything was getting, slapped his legs again. â€œWell, good day to ye all!â€ He smiled. â€œI get no learninâ€™ done from the bottom of a mug!â€ Borgen laughed his own agreement with that sentiment. Crispian looked up, a grimace on his face. â€œI wished life was sho sumple all the times, friends, I do in truth. â€œ His voice was thick and muddled with ale, fingers curled on the mug in his scarred hands. Apolexia looked up from her work, seeing the pain that the others seemed to be missing. â€œLife is never easy, mâ€™friend,â€ she said quietly. Her own experiences had put her through difficulties and she wondered for a moment what could be torturing Crispian so. Crispian nodded in agreement to here. â€œNay, tis not Lexi.â€ He thought of some things said about and again. â€œAnd ye know it can be, I bet.â€ He tapped out some more ale, offering it about to the others who were hard pressing their crafts at the forge spot. He wiped his eyes dry and took another deep drink of ale. â€œAlmost all to well, old friend,â€ Apolexia said quietly. This Crispian was not the same as she recalled from the days before at the forge. Before Valour, and other thingsâ€¦She nodded in solemn agreement with him. Crispian swept his mug in a wide arc to include all about the forge. â€œNow, this here Lexi,â€ he said, swinging the mug toward her, â€œis one tough lady, I tell yaz.!â€ He finished his proclamation with a self-congratulating drink. Apolexia shook her head. â€œI wish I were, mâ€™friend,â€ she said quietly, uncomfortable with the attention that Crispian seemed bound to call upon her. Crispian scowled at her, then broke into a grin, made silly by alcohol. â€œBut yer are. Iâ€™ve heard the talk around the tavernsh!â€ Apolexia sighed. Tavern tales indeed! â€œAlas,â€ she said, shaking her head, â€œthey only know the truths that are told.â€ She watched Crispian, concern flashing in her eyes for a moment. Crispian, barely following everything going on about him, in addition to the conversation, nodded exaggeratedly. â€œThat is sho like people, too,â€ he exclaimed, like a cleric sudden imparting some divinely inspired truth, â€œspeakinâ€™ only half truths!â€ He stoood, swaying on his feet a bit. â€œBut ye be safe, lassh, and I am off to Ye Mug to seek a room and shome sleep!â€ He staggered his way out of the forge area, and with a few gentle turns from guardsmen, reached Ye Mug. Word was sent to Tannir that Crispian was here, and shortly after the young armsman had been settled into a room, his squire arrived. The daily order of things started then, with Tannir setting aside armor and placing fresh small cloths on his Lord and Liege. Then, the squire settle against the door to sleep until Crispian awoke and it all started again. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Meanwhile, In Cornwall... Azaeli greeted the hunting group with a polite curtsey, which looked a bit off in full armor. Each man, Iphemiar, Vaseth, and Jashen was greeted with a formality and courtliness not often seen in the hunt. Kalsaak, a sorcerer who had hunted often with Jashen, Achou and Tobyas, arrived just after Azaeli and he too joined them in the hunt. Azaeli favored them all with a stunning smile. â€œWell met, friends!â€ she said, openly happy to be among the League again. â€œKalsaak!â€ she exclaimed as the sorcerer joined them. Iphemiar swept back his mail coif. â€œâ€™Ail tae ye, Azaeli! Yer name Iâ€™ quite familiar for sae reason. Dinnae why â€˜ough,â€ he said. â€œHail Azi!â€ Kalsaak greeted her, his face too a wide smile of joyful reunion. Azi favored him with a shy grin. The casters, Vaseth, Kalsaak, and Cowyn, began to weave their magicks about the group as Tobyas made prayers over each for the upcoming fight. Powerful forces swirled and formed around each as powers of wind, earth, fire and the divine were plied on them all. Azaeli looked over the group. Some she knew, some she did not. â€œIphemiar, your not recognizing my name does not surprise me,â€ she said with a shy smile before turning to the sorcerer. â€œHow do you do, dear Kalsaak?â€ she said with her smile still in place. It was then that she noticed the cleric blessings the others still. His chain armor gleamed in the pale and fading daylight. The bar-nasal coif hid much his face, and that was why she perhaps had not recognized him at first. â€œAnd Tobyas!â€ she exclaimed, her voice taking on a very non-paladin tone. He favored her with a shy grin as he continued saying the sacred words for strength and speed over Mensc. Adaya, companion of Mench, was also blessing people for battle. The quiet murmur of prayer filled the evening silence for a few minutes as the two clerics implored the Almighty. Cowyn, his spells cast and magic power regaining, smiled at Azaeli. It had been some days since he had seen her last. She looked very good in the plate mail of a Paladin. â€œWelcome Azaeli!â€ he said. â€œHas been a while.â€ She favored him with a smile as she pulled Jashen a bit away from the others. â€œWould that I could speak with Crispian!â€ she almost hissed in her effort to not be over heard. â€œMaster Kalsaak, if it is alright,â€ Jashen said, â€œTobyas will follow along and take care of healing me as there is need.â€ The sorcerer nodded, â€œThat would be fine by me, Brother Jashen.â€ Jashen nodded to Azaeli, lowering his voice to a tone that would not carry. â€œAye, he will want to speak with you as soon as possible dearest.â€ He could not help but grin at Azaeli, former wizard, now paladin, as she stood there in her fine armor. Azaeli, seizing the moment of the others being distracted, whispered urgently, â€œI need to speak with you as soon as possible, without all of these ears about.â€ She looked fertively about at the others, trusted League members all, but some too removed from events that Azi knew all too well. Cowyn stood. â€œReady?â€ he asked, calmly looking over them all. Tobyas closed his prayer book, tucking it into a pouch and taking out a smaller tome of healing prayers. â€œI fear I am all out of blessings now,â€ he said quietly. The others checked their gear and they group started to move into the Cornwall plain. Azaeli was looking about, watching the area they moved through. Her senses were sharp for foes from long practice in the field. â€œSTOP!â€ she called suddenly, spotting the large pig-like beasts called Rooters ahead of them. â€œRooters despise me,â€ she explained. As the group gathered about, Azaeli realized she had been so focused earlier and had not truly greeted everyone. â€œI have missed you all!â€ she said a bit abruptly. Iphemiar smiled at her. â€œGreeâ€™ins to ye again, lass.â€ Kalsaak favored her with a slight bow. â€œAnd you were missed as well, Mâ€™lady,â€ he said, barely taking his eyes off the field, for he had learned the bad way about being inattentive. Jashen targetted on a moor boogey, the local predator to rooters. He knew that through some means the rooters knew those who killed the boogeys and would not attack them. He knocked an arrow to his short bow and fired. The shot went wide, but not wide enough. The Boogey charged. As the dread beast rushed, Jashen slung the bow and grabbed his Bloody short sword and Inlaid long sword in hand. Iphemiar and Mensc also readied themselves for combat. The moor boogey was upon them. The casters, staying a safe distance behind, began to work magicks on the beast the sort of which Jashen knew not. He swung his sword, missing the boogey completely and the beast bit at him, twice striking his leg. Tobyas was already murmuring prayers of healing from behind them. Jashen prepared to use his skill for Twin Spikes, a special attack with two weapons. He struck true and the beast howled. Iphemiar and Mensc both also struck at the beast. The fight became fierce, with swords striking at the beast as it bit at Jashen. It would not give up on him, and seemed focused on killing him. Slowly the sway of the fray swung to the hunters and the boogey went down, bleeding from many cuts and a slight steam rising from its body. Jashen and the others were panting from the fight and the casters were all sitting to regain the energies they drew on in battle. Jashen wiped the back of his gauntlet across his forehead. It seemed that the others were ready, so he again got his bow ready. â€œI shall bring them back to us,â€ he said, oaken shortbow in hand. He knew he should replace it, and made a note to talk to Thovan as soon as possible about making one from him. It was hard to find decent short-bows in this land of the Great Bow and powerful scouts. He again sighted on a boogey again and let fly his arrow. The brief fray of a few minutes earlier repeated itself, and soon the beast was dead at their feet. There was no reasoning or pattern to how long or how many of the boogeys had to be slain in order to make the rooters of the area friendly, but Jashen would not stop hunting them until he was sure that the rest of his party could safely move through the low areas where the great pigs fed. As the second fell, he moved quickly toward the third, calling â€œThis way!â€ to the others as he moved. They slew another in quick order. Jashen had fought these earlier, but he now had two or three trainings behind him. They fell much easier. Also, this time out, he had more blades with him, although he did miss Achou, who had gone to Witrin to train more. The young Saracen cabalist was greatly growing in power and his skill with Cabalist magic seemed to need review by his trainer at Witrin with high frequency. Jashen mused on this for a moment as they slew a fifth boogey. Some of those with him were showing a little fatigue from the hunt, but Jashen knew they were each learning their craft faster this way. Jashen sighted on a boogey, but it was too far for his bow to reach. Kalsaak calmly raised his hands and made a pass. The boogey felt the magic befuddle itâ€™s mind and through it out of gait. It charged at the group, animal rage fixed on Kalsaak. Jashen, swords coming out of the sheaths called, â€œThat works too!â€ as he launched into the attack. Due to his unreadiness from the attack, Jashen found himself panting on the grass at the end of the fight. He looked about at the others. â€œPlease try to approach the rooters from time to time to see if this is working.â€ Azaeli smiled at him. He smiled back. â€œMaster Kalsaak, could you fetch the foe?â€ Jashen had learned that being ready for the attack was as good as controlling the rate of the foes coming in. He was also comfortable with the way a sorcerer would confuse or enspell the foes before they arrived. Iphemiar, also a mercenary and using a short bow, was standing and aiming. â€œI got one!â€ he called, bow knocked to his ear and let fly. The boogey came, charging with its massive head down and great paws throwing clots of sod and soil behind him as he ran. His nostrils snorted wide with each sucking breath of angry air. The large eyes were a palish purple. Jashen noted all of this even as he took his stance for battle The short sword, an enchanted and so-called bloody short sword, he held higher than the Golden Inlaid longsword in his right hand. Unlike the heavier armored armsmen of the realm, his stance was slightly to the side of the approaching foe. Mensc, an armsman, stood near to hand with weapons at the ready, shield poised for the blows that would come. Iphemiar, as mercenaries were trained to do, had discarded the bow and readied his weapons. The boogey hit into them with a great crash. Its body, while putrid and full of the stench of the plains, was solid. The huge head was wider that any one of the three and the jaws were as wide as the skull. Sharp, flashing teeth lined upper and lower jaws and caught the moonlight as it rose. This was a harder foe than those before, and Jashen found himself pressing hard every little ounce of advantage he could get. His swords flashed in the light, and he was quickly all that the boogey was sighting on. Blood flowed from where their blades struck, and from where the jaws ripped against the chain mail that protected him. He back-pedaled, glad for the aid of Iphemiar and Mensc, both of whom were pressing in on the attack. Bright magicks flew from the casters hands and the prayers of Tobyas and Adaya both were heard over the random noises of the exchange. A certain ordered mayhem was about the fight. This two was something that Jashen had learned to live with over the past weeks. Azaeli laid about with her great sword, wearing no shield at all. The blade seemed so large in her hands, but the skill with which she laid about her was impressive and made Jashen give her another measure of respect. Soon, the foe lay dead before them. As tough as this one had seemed, they all took a measure of satisfaction from laying it low in death. A taxed, sweating group, they paused to gather strength of arms and power before they sought another. When each seemed ready, Kalsaak rose, his arms at his side for a moment as he hurled magic at a distant boogey. True to their nature, it paused and then rushed at the sorcerer. Kalsaak stood impassively, knowing that his warrior companions would be on the foe in short order. True enough, Jashen, Iphemiar, Mensc and Azaeli were upon it before it got close enough to bite at the sorcerer and their blades flashed in skilled combat as they fell to the beast. Six blades flashed and fell as spells were unleashed and healing powers called up. Jashen caught a clawed-foot on his short sword and turned the blow aside only to see a sight that made him queazy. Another boogey had caught sent of the blood and carnage and was charging at them. â€œANOTHER!â€ he called as he pressed the first boogey. If they could not dispatch this one before the other arrived, there was a good chance that they would have to fight two foes at once, and he knew from experience that it could go badly for them, despite their skills. Kalsaak changed his attentions quickly to the incoming beast, hands moving quickly in a spell of mezmerization. Words rolled from his mouth in a measured, even tone that was belied by the sweat rolling down his face. A second foe was something that they had not been conserving energies for. The spell was unleashed and the boogey stopped in place, seeming to still try to move forward against the invisible bound of magic that held him in place. Kalsaak swallowed heavily and called out. â€œThe foe is mezzed!â€ he said, the haste of the situation causing him to use the commoners term for the type of spell he had cast. The warriors pressed their attack on the first, hoping to get it down before the second broke loose of the spell, for these types of battle magic did not hold long on an enraged foe, be it troll, elf or moor boogey. The first foe fell and the warriors swung to the second. Each was winded but not totally spent. Their blows fell a little slower, and did not bite quite as deep as on the first, but still the blows told true and harmed the beast greatly. As their swords bit into the beast, a shaking revelation came to them all. The enspelled one was still fifteen feet away. They were fighting a third boogey that had been rushing them. Jashen swore under his breath and heard Azaeli mutter a prayer under her breath as they all considered the worst. The second beast was slow in the going down. Kalsaak, Cowyn, and Adaya were grouped behind the warriors, doing what they could and trying to save some measure of energy for the third foe. Kalsaak felt the slight surge that told him his spell was weakening. He looked at the embattled second boogey and knew his spell would fail before its health did. â€œMy mezmerization is failing,â€ he said calmly, much more calmly than he felt. And then it did fail. And the third rushed them. Great jaws wagged side to side as it sped across the short distance. Jashen lunged at it, his swords striking. â€œStay on that one!â€ he called to the other three. He was spent, he knew, and could not press to use his skills, but he had to stop the first one from reaching the magicians, or he knew they would all die. In desperation, he plied his twin spikes for the last time and gained the beasts attention. Kalsaak threw a small magic at it that interrupted its normal animal grace and Cowyn threw hands to the sky, summoning up beasts of the earth to aid Jashen. As he scurried about, avoiding the huge paws and gaping mouth of the foe, Jashen missed Emily, the emerald simulacrum that Achou could summon up to fight for him. Since their earliest outing, Achou had used one or another kind of construct, and Jashen rarely realized how nice they were to have in combat with him. Indeed, she had come to be another blow that he depended on. He fought like a man possessed, holding the beast on him. He did not know how long it was before the second went down, but soon he had Azaeli, Mensc and Iphemiar at his side, dropping the third finally to ground. The fatigue from their previous fights did not compare with the near exhaustion they all felt from this last and they sagged down to the grass, directly at the bodies of the boogeys just killed. Panting and gasping for breath, the warriors rested, even as the magicians seemed to be nodding in sleep. Tobyas and Adaya each prayed from small prayers books and seemed the faster to recover from their exertions. Jashen felt it was time to move on. Boogeys had not been his plan for this hunt to begin with. He had intended to go after the skeletal legionaires who stood foul vigil before the ancient catacombs. The risen bones of these long dead Romans were the work of Morgana and he hoped to be able to dispatch some and make the area safer for those who tended the land here. He was from peasant stock himself and knew what it was to be plagued by such things. Indeed, it was partially that upbringing that had fixated him on defending Albion at home first, and then going to the borderlands to face Midgard and Hibernia. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	After pausing for their rest, Jashen lifted his head and scowled at Kalsaak. â€œThree?â€ he said, an edge in his voice that was unusual for the young mercenary. Azaeli chuckled as she tightened her shin guard. â€œThere were three,â€ she quipped, winking mischieviously at Jashen. Iphemiar smiled at her and nodded. Jashen felt his ire raise at their offhandednesss. â€œWe should be good to move now.â€ He stood, adjusting his cloak about his shoulders. The fresh-sewn emblem of the League was still stiff with needlework, but he was proud to have it on him. â€œLetâ€™s move to the Legionaires. They should be ok for us hunt now.â€ He was not over worried about how good they would do, the group seemed very capable. They set out toward the catacomb hill. It was a weathered hillock that stood above the rolling plains of the area. The Romans had taken sacred ground, dug deep into it and built catacombs for their own dead. Now that the vile magic of Morgana was rampantly unchecked about the land and the remains of the Romans stirred and prowled the corridors of the ancient burial area. Guards long dead now again stood sentinel outside before kiosk stones that arrayed around the low, hilltop shrine that gave entrance to the crypts below. It was a place that drew many who thought they were stout of heart and proved a good portion of them wrong. It was to there that Jashen now led his companions, prepared to fight the ancient evils that now animated the bones of the dead and made a mockery of all who in truth stood to guard the realm and her inhabitants. They moved through Cornwall at a good pace, not spreading out overmuch and keeping sharp eyes out for the dangers that lurked. This was a bad area to become distracted in. The day was nearing its end when they at last reached the catacombs. There was another group of people combating the eerie skeletal guardians of the catacombs, and Jashen led his group to the far side so that they would not be confused as to who was killing whom. The group was harder pressed to set themselves well for the fight, but they used the stone structure of the catacombs themselves for a safe guard. Tobyas and Adaya were prepared to flee inside the foul burial chambers if there was need and the mages were arranged in an arc along the shallow stairs leading in. The four warriors stood in front of the casters and were ready. Kalsaak drew himself to full height and turned. â€œFrom the south,â€ he said calmly, raising his hands to again unleash magic power to confuse and anger the foe. A faint mist seemed to surround the looming skeletal figure and it charged forward in a rage. As one, the four sprung forward and met the charge. A huge ghostly spear lashed out and struck Kalsaak even as the melee was joined. Adaya called forth a prayer of healing to sustain the mage even as Tobyas began to heal. He had been focused before on healing Jashen, but the skeletal foe seemed more focused on Azalea, and struck her many sound and solid blows. â€œMay the Almighty make thee whole to fight the foe and win the day!â€ he prayed, unleashing a lesser prayer of healing to the paladin. She straightened, facing the foe more firmly, but Tobyas immedaitely had to unleash more healing power of the divine, for Adaya was still healing Kalsaak. The towering skeleton rocked from the blows rained in on him, but still pressed his attack against the sorcerer. His undead, single mindedness cause Jashen consternation as he hit blow after blow. His companions slashed and struck, Azaeliâ€™s great sword hammer time again again. With an unworldly calmness, it would stab at Kalsaak, then sweep a blow into Azaeli. Finally, with a great horrid cry, it fell to the grass, defeated. It was dead already, but the ability to retain the animating was tied to the adherence of the bones, and they had rent the bone beyond ability to adhere together. Cowyn sat at the steps, then smiled shyly at them all. â€œI feel I have mastered another Circle of Theurgy!â€ The decorum they had all mastered for the hunt melted for a moment amid backslapping, congratulations and hoots of victory. It was always this way when on the hunt. Someone would perfect a new skill in some way and all would share in the excitement, knowing that soon it would be their turn. Jashen broke out a skin of wine and some sipped from it, but sparingly so as not to dull their response to the dangers here. Jashen stood. â€œTo the Center. Tobyas, can you heal Azaeli this go around?â€ The young cleric nodded. It seemed that Azaeli had pushed him into an uncharacteristic silence. Kalsaak rose again, preparing to summon a foe. â€œWould you like speed enchantments again, Sir Jashen?â€ Jashen considered it. â€œAye, as long as we are not moving, that would be fine.â€ He surveyed the group, preparing for a new foe when he heard his name. Helamann, a friend who was with the Dragons of Avalon had emerged from the Catacombs. â€œHail Jashen!â€ he called.ued with the strength of the earth. Jashen turned in surprise and then executed a graceful bow. â€œHail, Lord,â€ he said as he rose again. Helamann grinned. â€œHail Jashen!â€ Companions were emerging from the catacombs as well and Iphemiar bowed greetings to Laredric, another allie of the Leagueâ€™s. â€œHow fare ye, Lord?â€ Jashen asked as he checked his gear. â€œExcellent, mâ€™Lord Jashen,â€ Helamman boomed. Tis time I headed to Thidranki,â€ he said, serious and yet somehow jovial. Thidranki was a contested keep between the three realms. Jashen nodded gravely, having neared that keep for battle just a few days before. â€œBe ye well in that fight, Lord,â€ he said, clasping sword arms with Helamann. Then, the fighter and his companions were striking out for Cornwall Station and the fast horses that would bear them north to the battle. â€œShall I cast a confusion on them or a discoordination?â€ Kalsaak asked. Jashen thought for a moment, the others getting ready for the next skeletal warrior that they would fell in combat. â€œDiscoordination, please,â€ Jashen said as he loosed his swords, ready for the foe to come to them as Kalsaak cast the spell on the undead fiend for a second time. The skeleton, which towered at nearly seven feet or more in height, sprang toward them. Its vacant eyes still seemed to echo a murderous desire and it was said that none who were called back so by Morgana could abide the living. This time, the battle was better controlled by the group and the fiend went down with a better speed. With but a nod from Jashen, Kalsaak brought another foe in quick order. The group was falling into a rhythym. Twas rare to find such in the hunt, and Jashen relished it. Too often, hunts were spoiled by one ill-timed blow or spell. This group was working together well. Enchantments were even renewed during combat when the ethereal enchantments would fade. Such work usually required one spell caster directing the others, but this group seemed to be doing it by instinct and it was pleasing to Jashen. Again the group brought the foe, and again they defeated it. They were really melding on this hunt, and Jashen could not help but think how much Achou would be enjoying it. The little Saracen cabalist seemed to enjoy the heave and pitch of a real battle as much as Jashen himself did. The little man would throw his arms out and cast evocations that would cause the enemy to erupt in open wounds, or to poison them. Sometimes he would make acid form a cloud that would harm the foe, but be no thicker than air to his friends. And, of course, there was Emily. A simulacrum is an awesome casting in the first place, as it brings into being an animated force from nature that responds to the casterâ€™s command as if they were linked in mind. Jashen has seen how other cabalists directed and managed theirs, and he had to admit that Achou had it down to something on the level of art. Emily, the latest in the line, switched targets as smoothly as any living companion that Jashen fought with, most of the time. Tobyas would even place blessings upon it, and it was more effective when he did. One large plus to the Simulacrum was that it could die in battle and be recreated. It did not suffer from sickness upon being recreated, and it didnâ€™t drink Jashenâ€™s ale. The hulking mass of rock could also be enchanted to somehow have attacks back on the foe. Jashen was amazed at that but given his increased exposure to that, he was less and less wonder filled at the event. The group was preparing for another of the Roman skeletons and pulled Jashen from his musings. He readied himself and swung into combat as the being neared. He had noticed during their pause that Adaya and Mensc were indeed very close, especially for an armsman and a cleric. Mensc would, when it seemed no one was looking, blow kisses to the comely lady-cleric. Jashen had supressed a smile at first. Then he noticed in a quiet moment how they would look at each other, and the way that Mensc bowed to Adaya after each battle was over. He had never seen Mirashta and Oakleif act like that, but he supposed they must. Even amid battle, it seemed, love found a way to be present. The foes were being dispatched with greater ease it seemed. The group was working so well together that Kalsaak barely paused as one foe went down and another came up. Just as soon as they had one about to fall, the sorcerer would be eyeing the next and bringing it forth. After they have sent perhaps four to their unliving rewards, Kalsaak crouched down by Jashen. The sorcerer, as most Avalonians were want, was calm and confident. His mastery of his magics was not in doubt for a second and he exuded a confidence in himself. It could not be called arrogance, but that was owed more to Kalsaak himself than anything else. â€œMy friend,â€ the sorcerer said, taking the wine skin that Jashen offered him, â€œI think we could take two of them at once. That would speed both the attacks, and our learning.â€ He squirted a stream of wine into his mouth perfectly and passed the skin back. â€œBut only if you agree will I summon two.â€ Jashen thought on it for a moment. They were nine in the hunt, and if it did go badly, Tobyas or Adaya would surely be able to get inside the catacombs themselves. As long as they met no danger there, it would be an easy matter for them to emerge later and call the dead back to life. He nodded. â€œAye, I think you have the right of it, friend,â€ he said, standing and securing the wine skin again in his pack. He had not carried one at his hip since Arcalan had melted one for him. â€œFriends, prepare for two of the foes. Master Kalsaak will try to mezmerize the second, but we should be prepared incase it should fail to take.â€ He looked at each of them in turn. Crispian had often talked about the need to show confidence when in command, and Jashen found it easy to meet the eyes of this group. Some had been friends for a while now, and some he had just met. He still felt a bond to each one. Each was a League brother or sister, or else a dear friend. Their gazes returned the feeling of confidence that Jashen felt. He nodded ready and they reformed into their attack lines, with the two clerics near to the entrence to the Catacombs. Kalsaak calmly repeated his spell and the skeleton was rushing them agian. Close behind the first was a second and Jashen saw the bluish swirl about its feet that said magic was at work, but the foe resisted! Vaseth quickly threw forth a cage of ice that covered the beast and stuck it in place. â€œThat only last a few seconds!â€ he called as he turned his lethal wizardry loose on the first target. Great orbs of deadly fire shot forth from his hands to hit the skeletal warrior even as Cowyn was summoning up his small earth spirits to rush the skeleton like an army of small mud children. Azaeli, Jashen, Iphemiar and Mensc fought with a savagery against the undead beast, trying to lay it low as quickly as possible. Their blades struck, sometime with just raw might and other times with the graceful moves of trained warrior. The second skeleton began to move before the first was down. Kalsaak, being the target of the second one, stood his ground, tall and proud. He did not flinch back from the blow, but met it rather head one. The spear stabbed deep into his chest, just as the first skeleton crumpled to the ground. Wihout pause, Jashen and Iphemiar were on it, shortly followed by Azaeli and Mensc. Their paired blades bit into the bone of the fell being, and then the bite from Azaeliâ€™s heavy blade was upon it, renting ribs from sternum. This one did not pause, it wheeled about on her with its cold spear and stabbed directly. Tobyas yelled forth his prayer of healing even as Azaeli reeled from the blow. With the combined skill of all, the second was brought down, but not before there was blood on Azaeliâ€™s plate and Kalsaakâ€™s robe was a near ruin. The shattered bones of the skeleton lie strewn on the grass as they all collapsed against the stairs, nearly spent from the closeness of the battle. . Jashen leaned on his forearms, bracing them on his legs. â€œWell, that was close!â€ he panted in great breaths. Can we do it better next time?â€ Kalsaak stood, smoothed his robes with a gesture. â€œFrom the southeast!â€ he called and began to cast. Jashen crammed his helm back on and leapt up. Azaeli and Iphemiar both made ready. Mensc stood, adjusting his armor for a moment more and yelled out â€œJump on my sword while ye can Evil! I wonâ€™t be gentle!â€ even as the foes rushed them. Again, with an ungainly stride, the skeleton was upon them and they were engaged. They again fell to with great efforts, their weapons striking and making noises countered by the spellcasting from behind them. In but moments, it was down, a much easier victory than the last. Thus is was until they retired toward Cornwall Station for the night. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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midynn Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The hunt has gone late in the day and finally the companions decided to retire for the night to Cornwall Station. The station sat aside the road, a two-story affair with a stable. Some of the rarest metals and woods of the realm were sold there. Tanners from the out-realm areas brought their highly desirable wares to the station for sale. It was also the last civilized place before Lyonesse except for one small trading post. The other bid Jashen, Tobyas, and Azaeli farewell and made their departures. Most took horse north toward Camelot. Azaeli smiled as her two friends. â€œThe chain mail suits you well, Toby,â€ she said quietly as Jashen made room arrangements for the night. The young cleric had gained power in the church indeed, if he were permitted to equip up with chain like this. And from the looks of it, it was crafted chain, not dungeon found. The alloy metal glinted in the light of the common room. â€œThank you, Azi,â€ Tobyas replied, bobbing his head shyly. He was still adjusting to Azi in armor and sporting a large sword. He had come to know her as a caster of wizard magic, and shy, even retiring. This was so different for her. He prayed she had made a good choice. â€œIt has taken some getting used to, of course,â€ he found himself explaining. The newness of this armor was still evident to him, but Azaeli just smiled at him. â€œI know what you mean by that, my friend,â€ she patted his hand in affection as Jashen made his return. He nodded them in greeting. â€œTwo rooms,â€ he motioned toward an empty table on the far side of the room. â€œI figured you would like your privacy, Azaeli,â€ he continued as he sat, indicating with a slight shake of his head that Tobyas should not join them. â€œI shall take my leave then,â€ he said, a bit stiffly, for he too had not seen Azi in some time. But he knew that Jashen and Azi probably wanted to talk about Crispian and accepted that he was not fully in their confidences for that. â€œMy Lady Azi, Jash,â€ he nodded curtly and left, going up the stairs to where the few rooms of the station were located. As the serving girl brought them two mugs, one steaming and one frothy, Jashen favored Azaeli with a smile. He had to admit that she looked quiet good in her plate mail. It was burnished to a high shine, much like Crispianâ€™s, but the armorer had paid attention to the curve and fitting of Azaeliâ€™s body, for protection no doubt, Jashen mused, and the effect was stunning on her. Her blond hair fell to the shoulders of her breastplate and her eyes looked more blue than before. Taking a short drink of his ale, Jashen broke the silence first. â€œYe wished to speak with me, private like?â€ he said, mouthing quirking a small grin. He trucked in the work of the Shadow Guild for a profession, and applied his skills to the protection of the League. He knew that Azi was more accustomed to books, libraries, and other civil niceties. Azaeli turned her mug of sweet tea in her hands, still so small but now callused and hardened. She met Jashenâ€™s cool gray eyes with her own placid blue. There was no trace of a smile on her face. With a slight lean forward, she spoke. â€œJashen, what do you know of this Arcalan?â€ Her hushed voice breathed into the space between them. He paused for just a moment. He should have considered this topic. Azi was certain to notice the new Cabalist in their ranks, and her strange attitude. As Shadow Master of the League, Jashen had watched her already, but was surprised that Azaeli had met her so soon on her return. He lowered his ale to the table, licking his lips of the foam. â€œI can tell you I trust her not,â€ he said quietly, even as his eyes scanned the room for possible listeners. â€œIndeed, you have good reason not to,â€ Azi said with a calm certainty. Her face betrayed nothing more, but her fingers tightened on the coarse wood of the mug. â€œHow did she come to join the League?â€ she asked, voice a low hush still. Jashen considered lying. Phalos had recruited so many new ones, it could be passed as that. But this was Azaeli, a knight of the League even as a wizard, and sure to prove her pledges of purity and honor time and again, as if she had not already. She deserved the full truth, even if Jashen was uncomfortable with that. â€œCris is soft hearted,â€ he said quietly, drawing again from his ale mug. The shock was more than Azi could mask. Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth almost did not work to get the next words out of it. Jashen was glad he had not waited for her to be drinking. â€œCrispian invited her?â€ she gasped, unable to keep the note of disbelief out of her voice. A Knight was supposed to know the foe, and here it seemed Crispian was oblivious to such a threat as it seemed Arcalan posed! Jashen released a loud breath and rubbed his hands against each other, then smooth his cloak. â€œAye, he did,â€ he explained, â€œbut over my protestations!â€ He suddenly wanted to explain more to Azi, relieved to have found someone to confide in, for he sensed Arcalan was a problem waiting to happen. â€œJashen,â€ Azaeli murmured, then cleared her throat, taking a sip of her tea. â€œHow may I say this,â€ she started, pausing as the words hung in the air. She was not one to make accusations or cast doubt on the content of anotherâ€™s character. But this Arcalan...She was unsure how to proceed. Jashen reached across the table, taking one of her hands. â€œHonestly, of course, Azaeli,â€ he said, meeting her gaze calmly. Azi swallowed, withdrawing her hand to fold both of hers on her lap. â€œI happened upon her in Camelot,â€ she began. â€œAs soon as I heard her voice, I felt a chill evil run through me,â€ she looked down a moment as she spoke, recalling Arcalanâ€™s voice, and another voice from her past that carried that same tone. Jashen nodded. â€œAye, Cris does not trust her, but he did let her join.â€ He found himself still wanting to justify Crispianâ€™s decision to admit her into the League. Azi noted the slight fidgeting of Jashenâ€™s hands. She knew she might be pressing into areas best left alone, but felt she had to go forward at this point. â€œJashen,â€ she said quietly, â€œI do not know if Crispian told you of that night when we,â€ she paused, still recoiling from the memories of that horrible night, â€œfound him in the Shadow Guild,â€ she paused slightly as the icy expression that came to Jashenâ€™s face, â€œbut when Arcalan laid her eyes on me, it was the first time I had felt that..." â€œFelt what?â€ Jashen hissed into the silence when she paused. He knew exactly what night she was referring to. â€œThat icy, cold evil pressing me,â€ she held his gaze. â€œIt was the first time since that night I had felt anything like that.â€ Her eyes reflected the memories of that night she was recalling. Jashen nodded slowly. "Aye, I know what you mean. I saw Cris that night...I, I, well, lost control.â€ He chose not to continue, for there were things that even Azi should not know, especially as a sworn paladin of the Church. Azi either did not notice or did not pursue the pause. â€œPerhaps,â€ she said, with a sly grin, â€œit is well to have her in the League. Easier to keep track of her.â€ She favored Jashen with a wry look for a moment. He grinned in return. â€œExactly!â€ He chuckled, taking a drink of ale. â€œAnd Tannir does love stealthing along after her.â€ His eyes danced with the mirth of it. Tannir, native lad to the city of Camelot, had managed to follow Arcalan without detection for weeks now. â€œWell, I should like to say Iâ€™m comforted knowing that you are aware of this.â€ She paused, looking down briefly. But stillâ€¦ Could things get any worse for Crispian?â€ she paused, composing herself. Her look grew speculative. â€œWhat could she be up to?â€ Jashen looked about, not looking at Azi for a momentâ€™s time. â€œSomething dark, for sure.â€ Azi pressed her lips into a narrow line. â€œThat is obvious. And yet,â€ she toyed with her mug, â€œshe was so pleasant to meâ€ Jashen tossed his head in a small chuckle. â€œI donâ€™t under how she and Achou can be the same profession!â€ He shook his head slight. â€œBut, aye, she is pleasant, as she wishes to be.â€ Azi felt badly for not noticing that the Saracen cabalist was not with them this hunt. â€œWhere is Achou this night?â€ she asked as she looked about. â€œAnd how does he?â€ Jashen shrugged. â€œHe is well, but abed with a headache from studying his magicks.â€ Aziâ€™s face slowly lit with a shy grin. â€œI know that well!â€ She thought of the hours in the old library in Camelot, and her dear Uncle looking over her the whole time. A nostalgic look past over her face. â€œNow, you just contend with sore muscles,â€ Jashen mused as he signal for two more mugs. â€œI seem to enjoy that more, somehow,â€ Azi said, passing her cooled tea off for the new steaming mug. Jashen sipped as his new tankard. â€œMaybe Wizardry is your real vocation,â€ he allowed, intentionally misunderstanding Aziâ€™s statement to mean she enjoyed study more than physical work. Azi shook her head. â€œNay, it is my fate to be a paladin,â€ she said, rubbing a hand on her neck, stiff from the barrel helm she had been in all day long. Jashen grinned wickedly. â€œHonest, I liked ye better in robes,â€ he said as his grinned widened. â€œI did not choose my profession for the clothing!â€ Azi said, hastily and a bit harsh. Taken aback, Jashenâ€™s grin faded. â€œJust saying it was flattering on you,â€ he said, eyes downcast. Azi immediately regretted her tone with him. â€œMy apologies. I miss it sometimes, and so,â€ she shrugged her thin shoulders, â€œI am defensive.â€ She knew that many were still adjusting to this â€˜newâ€™ Azi, and not all were doing so smoothly. Jashen smiled again. â€œWorry not, dearest,â€ he murmured. â€œImagine being the younger brother of a near-legend.â€ He himself still found it odd that people afforded him a great deal of respect bought on the coin of Crispianâ€™s achievements. Azi sighed. â€œBetter to have a brother to begin with, than none at all,â€ she said, her face taking on a down-turned expression. Jashen felt he had to lighten the mood a bit and laughed. â€œYou donâ€™t know Cris well!â€ he said, his face alight with humor. Azi took the statement a bit wrong. â€œOh, I do not?â€ she said, a bit archly. Jashen back-pedaled his words quickly. â€œDid you ever have someone steal your courters?â€ he asked, still smiling. Azi turned the most pleasant shade of pink as she lowered her eyes. â€œYou know that I do not court.â€ Jashen chuckled. â€œBut, I am sure you had callers?â€ He felt slightly wicked to be pressing the issue of romance with Azi, but better she be uncomfortable than dwell on what life had not gifted her with. Her blush deepened. â€œYes,â€ she said shyly, drinking some tea. â€œOften, I would be glad if someone stole them away.â€ Her blush drained away and she allowed a shy smile. â€œBut I can see your side, of course.â€ Jashen leaned back, calmer now that they were on a safer topic than Arcalan. â€œAnd I am sure you noticed that Cris is, well,â€ he shrugged, â€œa handsome man with a thicker chest than I.â€ He had no discomfort with admitting Crispian had filled out more than he had. Azi smiled pleasantly, but answered honestly. â€œHonest, Jashen, I cannot tell you apart,â€ she said into the brief pause. â€œAnd thicker arms.â€ He looked at Azi, registering her comment. â€œWell, dear, ye saw him as the Lord brought him into the World, so to speak,â€ he said, with a raising of eyebrows. Azi blushed again. â€œMy eyes did not linger.â€ Jashen smirked. â€œNot even a wee bit?â€ he asked, mildly amused that a warrior and wizard of Aziâ€™s caliber would be so discomforted by this topic. Azi open her mouth in shock. â€œNo!â€ she said, loud enough that others glanced over briefly. Riding the humor of the moment, Jashen rolled on. â€œMy Lady, ye protest too much, I fear,â€ he said with a wink. Azi however had turned serious. â€œJashen, friend, I am quite content with my love, Ascot, and Crispian was such a fright that night,â€ she shuddered at the thought of his state that night in the Shadow Quarter. â€œMy only concern was to come to his aid,â€ she finished gravely. Jashen inclined his head gravely in return. â€œWell, I shall take it at that then,â€ he gave a half-bow of acceptance to her. â€œYou are a handsome man,â€ Azi said plainly. â€œSurely women fawn at you?â€ Was this young mercenary, so confident usually, about to have a self-image crisis with her? He nodded. â€œBut Cris is as handsome, and has more muscle. As lads in the village, he could swoon any lass,â€ he said with a small smile, recalling the simpler life to which he and his brother could never return. â€œThat was so long ago,â€ Azi observed, â€œand you are much more carefree than he.â€ She felt the need to point out that Jashen was more humorous to be around, even before the curse. Jashen grinned his sly grin. â€œCris has always been more serious than I, and young lasses appreciate that,â€ he said, even as his own eye caught that of a tavern girl. â€œIt depends on the lass,â€ Azi said, her eyes challenging. â€œ Some prefer a good sense of humor.â€ â€œOh, Cris has that too,â€ Jashen said, â€œwhen he wishes to show it,â€ he pressed on seeing that Azi was about to interrupt him. Her face turned into a frown. â€œWhat, Darlinâ€™?â€ he asked as he took a drink from his ale mug. Azi sighed, looking deep into her tea mug. â€œI worry about him,â€ he said quietly, the recent topic bringing the young Armsman to the front of her mind. â€œSo do I,â€ Jashen admitted, â€œbut he is tough as troll.â€ He did not want Azi to get caught up in thoughts of Crispian. â€œI suppose,â€ she said quietly, not sounding to convinced. Jashen decided it might be time to tell Azi some of Crispianâ€™s past that he knew he would not have shared yet. â€œYou do not know of her, do you?â€ he asked quietly, eyes down cast, for the memories of their childhood ending were not pleasant for him, or Crispian. â€œHer?â€ Azi asked, â€œDâ€™Vena?â€ she asked, naturally concluding that she would be a nameless woman called simply â€œher.â€ Jashen grinned a weary grin. â€œOh, no. Not her,â€ he said with a slight shake of his head. Azi sat a little forward. â€œWho?â€ â€œHer name was Eirennelle,â€ he said quietly, eyes focusing somewhere beyond the wall of the station. Azi sipped at her tea, waiting for him to continue. The pause grew, and finally she prodded him with a simple, â€œOh? What became of her?â€ â€œAye,â€ Jashen replied, quietly. â€œHe loved her. We were,â€ he looked at the ceiling, â€œabout fourteen or so, training with Oakleif,â€ he paused, a slight smile on his lips, â€œSir Oakleif, even then.â€ He turned his mug about. â€œWell, Cris had decided to farm the land around Donegal, our village.â€ He continued to wear an amused smile for a moment. â€œWe were about to get our first swords. He proposed to her, after talking with Auntie, of course.â€ Aziâ€™s eyes widen in surprise. â€œWell, our village was sacked a few days later, by Spriggens and other. Many died, and could not be brought back, as we had no bindstone there. Eirennelle was one of them.â€ Azi seized the moment to fill her curiosity. â€œWait,â€ she implored. â€œTell me of her. How did she look?â€ Jashen closed his eyes for a moment. â€œOh, she was a good lookinâ€™ lass.â€ His eyes were open again, but it was clear he was not seeing the room. â€œReddish coppery hair, taller than either of us,â€ he said with a small smile. â€œLean and sleek, like a good horse,â€ he grinned. â€œAnd with all the curves you could want.â€ He came back into focus on the present. â€œCrispian loved her, no doubt,â€ he finished quietly. Azi looked down into her mug, a sadness passing over her. â€œOh, Jashen,â€ she said in a mournful voice. â€œHow terribly sad!â€ She looked to be on the verge of tears, and Jashen felt bad for having given her another cause to worry about Crispian. â€œHow foul, cruel and evil,â€ she blinked back tears as she spoke. â€œHe has loved no other since, really,â€ he paused, â€œuntil, well, the curse. But, Azi, that was ten years ago.â€ She nodded, composing her emotions. â€œYes, but it is still sad,â€ she said, her face now grave rather than sad. Jashen drained down more ale. â€œCris vowed to clear the land of evil,â€ he said, toying with his mug again, â€œand until Tobyas, that was all he thought of,â€ he signaled for another ale. Azi looked at him closely. â€œWhat are you saying, Jashen?â€ Her tone was low and full of concern. Jashen thought on it as his ale was brought. â€œCris has room in his oh-so-serious heart for few things, but Toby is one. And to be honest, I think it is not just the curse at work,â€ he nearly whispered, drinking his ale at the end. â€œWell, that is his choice, is it not?â€ Azi declared. She tired of this matter of mettling in the heart. Jashen looked up in surprise. â€œYe know tis a crime, aye? And he could be stripped of office, titles, and exiled or worse?â€ His concern was evident in how he spoke. Azi sighed in exasperation. â€œYes, I know this. But what can anyone do if it is truly what his heart desires? Certainly, you know that the heart is one thing that cannot be commanded, or tamed,â€ she paused as a look of her own pain passed over her face, â€œor forgotten,â€ she finished quietly. Jashen met her eyes, a softness showing in his own. â€œHe is my brother, and I love him,â€ he said quietly, â€œand will support him in whatever he wishes, but the risks,â€ he paused. â€œAnd with his trial coming up,â€ he said in an explosive sigh. The look of surprise on Aziâ€™s face startled him. She must have been very focused on her training indeed! â€œYou did not know of that?â€ he asked quietly. Azi still looked at him in near shock. â€œIndeed, I didnâ€™t!â€ she declared, almost too loudly. Jashen leaned in as he looked about the room. There were many people about and he felt a need to be cautious. â€œCris killed an unarmed yeoman,â€ he whispered. Aziâ€™s face registered even more surprise. â€œWhat! WHEN?â€ she nearly shouted, then leaned in and lowered her voice to a mere whisper. â€œWhat is this you speak of?â€ she asked urgently. â€œIt cannot be so!â€ Her knowledge of Crispian did not allow for such things. â€œA few weeks ago,â€ Jashen sad quietly, â€œCris was being heckled about, well, Toby,â€ he said with a heavy breath. â€œHe sought not to kill him, I believe, but his sword is magical.â€ He paused at the helplessness of it all. â€œWhy did he strike out at them? Why did he not turn and leave?â€ she asked, still unable to believe it. â€œHis temper is as bad as mine,â€ Jashen said quietly, thinking of a dead innkeeper from Camelot. Azi shook her head. â€œSurely, if he explains that he is cursed, it will be forgotten! He is not a man in his sane mind!â€ She was shaken at what this curse of Dâ€™Venaâ€™s was doing to her friend. Jashen sighed again. â€œHe did not SEEK to kill. He even flat bladed them,â€ he finished lamely. â€œLord Adribald is trying him.â€ Azi grabbed his hand. â€œTell me the day, I shall be there!â€ she vowed in an urgent tone. â€œAs shall many others,â€ Jashen said quietly, not adding that all who attended might not be friends to his brother. â€œJashen,â€ Azi stated in dead earnest, â€œthe Lord knows the truth and He is just.â€ Jashen was not sure if she meant Adribald or the Almighty. â€œThis will come to a good end,â€ she said with a clear conviction. â€œHe tried Jothan, the Cleric, not too long ago, and it looked very bad for him, until Arguyle and the Red Lions showed up,â€ Jashen reminded Azi, who had not been in attendance. All of this was more than Azi could absorb upon her return and she need time to think. She stood, tucking her helm in the crook of her arm. â€œI fear the hour is late, and I should be seeking rest.â€ Jashen nodded as he finished his ale. â€œSleep well, Azaeli, and not a word to Cris of what I told you,â€ he implored with large eyes. â€œNever, I swear it,â€ she replied with all gravity of her being. He smiled at her. â€œMany thanks, Azi,â€ he said, lips pressed into a worrisome line. â€œCris can still kick my arse,â€ he quipped, trying to lighten the moment. â€œPromise me word of the trial. If you send it to my fatherâ€™s house, I will surely get it,â€ she said, holding his eyes. Jashen nodded. â€œI know Judan well, and shall do so,â€ he said quietly. Azi was again surprised, but pleasantly this time. â€œDo you now?â€ she asked. Jashen grinned a relieved grin. Aye, Crispian is a weaponsmith, you know,â€ he leaned back as he spoke. â€œMost people forget that I work in armor.â€ Azi was a bit surprised, for she had forgotten. â€œAh, then you have spent many hours beside him at the forge?â€ Jashen laughed softly. â€œSome, not like Cris though.â€ He shook his head, knowing his meager skill with armor did not compare with Crispianâ€™s weapon crafting skill. Azi smiled. â€œPappa is a good man. He and Crispian have much in common,â€ she said. The comment brought to mind something that Jashen had heard. â€œAye, he is,â€ he looked away from Azi. â€œI was so sorrowed to hear of your mother.â€ Aziâ€™s face grew still. â€œTalk not of that, Jashen. She is at peace.â€ She sighed a sorrowful sound. Jashen looked at her. â€œI never knew my mother. I envy you yours,â€ he said as he examined the bottom of his mug. Azi whispered in a pained voice, â€œSpeak not, it is too soon still for me.â€ Jashen took Aziâ€™s hand and kissed it. â€œI meant not to cause ye pain,â€ he said. Azi smiled sadly. â€œYou are right though. I have memories to cling to, if only a few,â€ she said, slipping her hand free. Jashenâ€™s smile mirrored Aziâ€™s. â€œMy memories are all of Auntie Mir,â€ he said, affection for the Avalonian in his voice. â€œBut then,â€ Azi said, â€œI know what I have lost and you do not. And I do not know which of us is the better for that.â€ Her eyes were remote, sad. Jashen looked away. â€œI would say you are. I think a poet once wrote â€˜Tis better to have loved and loss than to not have loved at all,â€ he said quietly. Azi nettled her brows for a moment. â€œI suppose,â€ she said with a small sigh. Then she shook her head. â€œWhat a melancholy visit! We should promise each other that the next time we sit and talk, it will be a happy occasion Jashen!â€ Jashen had to laugh. Azi could do that for him. â€œThe Great One willing, I know I am!â€ he pledged. â€œAnd do not forget this time!â€ she admonished him. He shook his head. â€œI shall not,â€ he said with a slight bow at the waist. â€œMay it be soon for both of us!â€ Azi pulled into an embrace, which startled him. â€œFarewell, then, Jashen,â€ she murmured as he returned the embrace. â€œAnd you, dear Lady,â€ he managed with all the sincerity he felt, to the depth of his heart, for this was a fine woman, and a good friend. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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CarringtonSony Posts: 5,819 Registered: Apr 5, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 5,583 User ID: 665,238	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump! Damn Crispain...you've become a much better writer than I ever will be...but don't worry...I plan on getting back into the swing of things... Ah, and this is a fabulous thread...keep it up. -----signature----- Mali principii malus finus. Don't open it.
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas listend to the two of them end their conversation. Quietly, he slipped from Cornwall and paid the five silvers for his horse. He road for the swamp. He felt the dire need to meditate in prayer on many matters. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	OOC- Thanks Caer! Wish I could claim credit for it all. Lots of Log editting has gone into the last few posts. /bow the compliment is greatly appreciated. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	After unstrapping her armor and setting it lovingly in a corner of the tiny inn room, Azi kneaded her sore neck and knelt beside her bed, bowing her head in deep prayer. After some time, she pulled herself onto the cramped straw mattress and rolled onto her back like a log of dead wood. Jashen was right, even out of her heavy armor, her body was a massive sore muscle. She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back, letting out a long yawn. Her eyes flicked around behind her lids as she lay there trying to sleep. It had been two days of straight training and hunting for her, with no rest. She was overcome by exhaustion physically and mentally. Try as she might though, she could not relax enough to hope for sleep. Her thoughts raced beyond her control... Was there a connection between D'vena and Arcalan? Why had Crispian allowed her to join the guild? Didn't he see the evil in her? Where was Crispian? Had he taken to the drink again? Would his curse ever be lifted? Who would D'vena strike against next? Would the League accept her again? As a paladin, now? Did they miss her as much as she had missed them? Had she made the right choice to give up her robes and magic? Was Ascot lying awake in Lethantis, as she was here? The thudding and crashing of a brawl in the tavern downstairs jolted her awake just as she had begun to drift to sleep. She remembered Tobyas' sad expression as he excused himself from herself and Jashen earlier. Was he still as smitten with Crispian as he had been that evening when the two of them watched him sleep in the Church's garden? He was so pious now, so changed...She wondered if he knew that her friendship was unconditional? That she would never tell the church, even though as Jashen had said, it was a grave crime? She sighed and blinked into the darkness, watching the moonlight flood through the thin crack in the shutters and splash onto the rough woolen blanket that covered her. Softly, Azi whispered a prayer for peace, and was soothed. Finally, thankfully, she drifted into a deep sleep. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump <holds her breath in anticipation...> -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump right bck -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The quiet of the swamp had always been something that gave Toby a sense of peace. From earliest childhood, his family had come here to trade goods during the mild days of fall and early spring. Their Dartmoor home, now lost to Stonecallers and worse had made this tower-fortress one of two convenient spots to sell goods and purchase new supplies. Now, he came here to pray and reflect. The tower hall was mercifully empty as he entered and made his way to a window embrasure. He sat, back to the cool stones and considered all that had passed in his life. He was now a Sargent of the League, allowed to wear the Emblem and to invite new entrants. He really had not planned that, but his exposure to the others of the company through lodging with them had made it almost inevitable. He was also a Curate of the Church, having achieved the twenty-mystery to the Divine. He spent much of his time out in the field, fighting the evil that lay on the land since the great schism between Morgana and Merlin. Days spent away from civilization and creature comforts had hardened him in body and spirit. It had also fattened his purse on his own merits, something that was new to him. All of this was well and good, but he found that there were still things unresolved, unfinished. It was those things, which drew his attention this night. He looked at the sky, scudded with clouds that threatened rain in the morning. The pale moon slid behind a bank and the night became darker. He could hear the murmur of conversation from the group he had passed. From their looks, they were great lords and ladies of the realm, or at least rich. Thinking of lords brought his mind to Crispian. The past weeks had gone by with barely a word between them, not that Crispian was to fault there. Toby had chosen to keep himself away and apart, and he rarely spoke in the guildhall, if ever. His time was spent praying, or sleeping, and on the hunt. The young Lord, although he did not like that form of address, was a problem for the young cleric. He had mostly stayed true to his vows to the Church of Albion, excepting that one afternoon in Ludlow, and a few times when alone. But it was not just hte physical. That would have been dealt with easily. No, his problem was more of the heart. He found himself feeling drawn toward Crispian as a companion, a partner. He hesitated to use the word lover, but that was what his heart wanted to say. From what he had learned, there was some curse laid upon Crispian by some sorceress who now was about and free. And she was somehow able to continue this spell even over distance and time. But, more to his problem, what if the curse was lifted? Would Crispian be ashamed of what had passed between them? Would he even want Tobyas in the League? Certainly, Crispian did pay high accolades to all within the League, using Brother and Sister to address them all and trying, unsuccessfully, to not have them address him as Lord and Liege. It was true that many felt that way toward him, and it was equally true that although he accepted it, he did not bask it. Of course, Mirashta always had a word or two to insure that he did not get over-invested in his own ego. Tobyas clasped his hands together, praying for discernment, for courage, and for wisdom. The days ahead would be fraught with peril for him. He knew that once the curse was lifted, everything might change. He had the feeling that the curse could not last forever, or go on too long without Crispian being further harmed. He prayed for the resolve that he would need when the day came, as it must, that he and Lord Pontiff met, both unfettered by curse. He did not know how that would play out. It was for acceptance of whatever became of it that he prayed for last and more fervently. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arcalan emerged from the endless night of Darkness falls. Her power had grown in leaps and bounds, as though the very energy of the place fed her. She had worked endlessly, safe from that meddling Squire Crispian insisted on sending to trail after her. It really was pitiful, but the dog did his service faithfully, on her heels from morn till night. Ah well, he'd have to have a suitable reward then. Taking off towards Camelot to complete an errand for Sir Bors she once again noticed that Tannir had begun to follow her. She slid a sealed envelope into the hand of Magus Agyful, in order to set her plan in motion, and delivered her message to a Scribe. It seemed Sir Bors life was in danger, as those Arawnite's were to spread their philosophy by sending him to his eternal rewards. The dilema was resolved when she realised the potential for having Bors under her influence. It had been easy to gather the favours of more than a few infiltraitors in the last month, now this larger pawn would be hers. The sunset was streaming through her golden-red hair as she mounted a fine steed from Camelot, and set out for the Border. By the time she got there the Moon hung low in the sky, and light had given way to a chill Snowdonian night. Snow began to fall from the clouds, and soon the pass behind her would be difficult terrain indeed. Perfect. Inside the Fortress her instincts came alive. She'd had little trouble getting in, but she knew she was being watched closely. In this lay her advantage. Sappy the Simulacrum stayed a faithful watch at the gate while she proceeded to the commander of the watch to deliver news of the assassin. She moved quickly through the fort, keenly aware of the presence stalking her. Tannir was more clumsy than this, and should by now have more on his mind right now. The assassin slid through the shadows close behind her... Arcalan delivered her message and instantly all entrances and exits were sealed. Guards rushed to secure the Gates, and Arcalan took this oppertunity to loiter in a hallway to one side, alone and quite seemingly oblivious. The whisper hissed it's taunt into her ear even as a long knife flashed through the night dripping with poison. "You thought we'd try to kill Bors? Ha! He's too well guarded, but you will make a much more humourous trophey!" Arcalan whirled round as the blade bounced off of her Warding spell, for she'd faced many a Shadowblade out at Thidranki faste. Her grin was pure evil as she stepped away from the assassin and directed her gaze upwards. He glanced at the ceiling just in time to make out the form of a Simulacrum braced wall to wall, back to the ceiling, having positioned itself while the assassin busied himself stalking Arcalan. It relaxed it's hold and fell much like the two tons of rock that it was. Arcalan stepped out of the way of the mangled remains of the assassin. His breath hissed out a final thanks for ending his life, so complete was his devotion to Lord Arawn. It pleased her greatly. The Simulacrum placed one massive hand atop the assassins head and pushed itself up. The sickening sound sent a shiver of pleasure through Arcalan. Now what might Lt. Rhodri not do for her now that the assassination was foiled by her hand? ___________________________ In the snow Tannir made his way half blind and freezing behind the route Arcalan took. It had become too perilous to ride through, and he greatly feared losing her. Crispian had commanded him to follow her, and little as he seemed to be able to do for his lord these days this was one task he could perform. As he clambered onto a rock nearby and shook the snow from his cloak he became aware of a presence behind him. "'Ello Tannir" Tannir spun round to see the snow had stood up and was poiting a crossbow at his head. A flurry of movement transformed this walking snowman into Aceramar, an infiltraitor of the League. "Aceramr" gasped Tannir "'tis good to see you Brother, but please point that somewhere else.. it's making me nervous" he joked. Aceramar levelled the bolt at Tannir's face "Heh seems you've not heard the news yet Tannir... I left the League quite recently" Aceramar quipped "And now I'm temporarily freelance" His grin was not pleasent. "We're goign to have a little chat, you and me" The snow fell heavily into the mountain pass, and the two figures were lost from sight of the road. _____________________________________ A little freedom bought for the night, Arcalan decided to make the most of it. The pass was now choked with snow, so she took off into the frontier, following the standing stones through the night towards Castle Myrridan, A Relic Keep, but currently empty. That suited her perfectly. She traversed the distance in little time and stepped through the Gateway inside the keep.. back into the Falls. Selecting the exit carefully she returned to the demon infested ruins in Camelot hills, a journey of many hours in a few short seconds. And leaving Tannir far far behind. The night was now fading fast and she felt tired. It would be best to be in Camelot soon, to hear the news firsthand. She slipped into Cotswald village to the house of Pompin and handed him the amulet. For nights she had quarreled with Crispian and Jashen, brought up the curse time and time again, and cast it all as though the wrathful Crispian and his brother were victimising her! Many saw through her ploy, but none guessed it's purpose. Pompin's body held the amulet. "I can taste their hate" hissed the dual voice of Arcalan's Master. It was almost as though the emotions trapped by that pendant were sucked into Pompin's body, coursing through his veins. Their ire had been great and D'Vena's curse brought the fullest measure of Crispian's hate to the surface. Pompin drew on the energies for some time. "Excellent. They have exposed their hearts to me through this. Easier to hate than to love, and they glut my appetite with their strength of feeling." He smiled in the torchlit room, and even Arcalan felt fear at her Master's inhuman grin. She swallowed it quickly lest it displease him. "Now we await Ceomyr, brother to Ceowyr" he said his voice becoming one far less hideous tone. Pompin seemed to shrink somewhat, and the room began to hold more light than it had a few moments ago, as candles returned to strength. A short while later Ceomyr the Armsman arrived from Camelot, with two guards in tow. "I hear yehv got some accusations" he spat the word "a'gin the League? Ah'd like to hear whit ye have tae say" The guards moved to make themselves comfortable in the room, and Ceomyr cast a suspicious glance at Arcalan. "I'm here to to offer the league's voice in this matter" She said piously. She was generally respected in the League, and close to Ceomyr's brother, but Ceomyr didn't trust her as far as he could throw a Dragon. "it's.. it's umm, delicate" said Pompin in a nervous stutter, All his menace had been replaced by a shy cowering form, and even Arcalan was utterly taken in. "Speak of it" said Guard Braelin "I'll make sure justice is done and you need fear no reprisal. It was about the attack made on you was it?" "Ye-es" stammered Pompin "But I do fear the man greatly.. he's well respected and .. ah.. of some considerable station. I risk much to accuse him, for he may seek revenge on me!" "We are your Guardians" said the guard "You need not fear pompin, all know you as a good and just citizen. No haughty noble will be allowed to murder, no matter what his station" Ceomyr looked on with horror, guessing what Pompin would say next. Arcalan surpressed a sly smile, changing it to a scowl instead. Pompin looked deadly serious, and trembled with fear "Crispian... it was Lord Crispian who battered me to death" -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<jaw drops> -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The Dawn saw Azaeli rather unrested, and a knock at the door of her room forced her from her half slumber. Dawn's fingers already crept into the room and motes of dust spiraled in the early rays of light. Azi's hair was matted on one side, and her head ached a little from her lack of rest. She threw on some clothes to preserve her modesty, and opened the door a crack, expecting Jashen to be there. Instead it was the innkeeper, with a mug of hot tea and a parcel under one arm. "Sorry to disturb you miss" he said, trying very hard not to let his eyes roam to the tiny patch of exposed leg beneath Azi's coverings "But this was to be brought up to you urgent like. There was instructions to give you some hot tea too. The messenger was a little Saracen man, but he's off to the Yeardly's place in quite a hurry, so I 'ad to give it you myself." He smiled in what he hoped was an unarming way, since the youn paladin looked non too impressed. "Thank you" said Azi, doing the rather awkward dance of getting the parcel and tea without emerging from behind her door. She closed the door firmly, and then put the key in the lock. She sipped the tea gratefully, for it relieved the dry throat of waking, and it's hot fumes revived her somewhat. The Parcel was wrapped in cloth and fastened with a pin of the League. She undid it carefully, and unwrapped the bundle. Inside she found a piece of parchment and a slim tome. The tome was charred a little down one side, but mostly undamaged. It's leather cover was inscribed with arcane etchings, proclaiming it to be a book of spells. The parchment, hastily flattened out, was written with a very shakey hand, scrawling across the page with no heed for neatness. It read: "Dear Azi forgive this note but I am in desperate need. I am entrustiung this to your care, for I know you are most skilled in these matters" The next line was unreadible until "...of Sorcerors spells, specifically my curse. I beg you a short return to your wizardly ways in order to find out more. Yours in need, Crispian Pontiff" There was no mention of what she had to look for, or who had delivered it. But could this tome unlock the mystery of Crispian's Curse? -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi shivered slightly and set the mug on the little night table without taking her eyes off of the note. It was Crispain's hand indeed, she remembered his to be shakey and a bit less legible than she was used to. She lowered herself to sit on the bed, resting the tome on her lap. "The messenger was a little Saracen man," the innkeep had said. Could it have been Achou? But if this was such an important message, why didn't Crispian have Tannir deliver it? Her fingers played with the edge of the bookcover, and she sipped from the mug again. She was certain if Crispian had indeed wished her help, he would have sent someone he trusted with the parcel. But perhaps Tannir had been busy on an errand? Jashen had said that the squire was sent often to watch Arcalan.. She set the tome on the night table and pulled her knees up under her chin, sipping the hot brew. Her eyes never left the tome, its charred cover, its ragged pages...She had read about cursed books, she knew full well the risks...and why had Crispian not given it to her himself? Surely if the note was true, he would have been excited enough to sit and watch her decipher its contents.. But it was sealed with the blue chevron and tower that she had come to associate with the warmth and friendship of the League. And Crispian was a busy man, she was certain he was probably just too busy with matters of the League to deliver it himself. If it could help him break the curse... she had sworn to do anything he asked of her in order to help. She imagined herself being the one who could lift his burden, and a smile stretched across her lips. Azi slid the tome from the table and slipped a finger under the cover, setting down her mug slowly. A familiar tingle ran through her as the ancient magic of the tome touched her. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	OOC- Alittle out of order, this comes before Toorc's first post Crispian was crafting in Camelot. He had given up on trying to even be focused enough to hunt after the last several days of constant headaches. Ale had brought some relief, but generally, he was just happy to not be overly surly with anyone, when that could be achieved. He had returned to working on weapons, in mithril metal as much as possible. He also noticed that it seemed few if any were willing to work in Iron or Steel, so he did some work in that as well, when citizens called for it. He had decided to take a break from the work and entered the Guild Hall. The Banner of the League and those of her allies hung from the walls. Several finished tables had been placed within by those who crafted in wood, and there was much evidence of traffic, large mud tracked on the floor. Along one wall hung the emblemed cloaks of those recently left, Kromly, Graid, Leftie and others. The roster of the League was updated and lately it seemed that more were leaving than coming. Darnyk had retired, focusing on his ministries, and Achou too had left. Crispian waved greetings to Ceowyr, Nalwein, Alios, Iphemiar, and Oakelif. Many hails were traded. Arcalan, the Avalonian Cabalist, was perched atop a stool in studies after returning from her recent foray into the Falls. â€œHail all, Nydori called as she entered. Many paused in their work to greet her as she shook out her cloak. â€œI always feel as though when I say â€˜Hailâ€™ to ye all, ye stop what yer doinâ€™! No need for that!â€ Oakleif frowned. â€œNot at all Nydori!â€ he said as she settled herself on a bench. Arcalan smiled her sickly sweet smile to Nydori. A young woman in burnished plate entered the hall and proceeded directly to were Crispian sat. She curtseyed graceful and removed her helm. Azi smiled. â€œMilord!â€ she cried out in joy at seeing him again, much of her concerns addressed at seeing Crispian in evident good health. Azi grinned widely at the expression of sheer surprise on Crispianâ€™s face as he looked at her. â€œAZI!?â€ he exclaimed, surprised as seeing her kitted out like a full warrior. The plate hauberk was well crafted, as were the leggings and arms pieces. A great sword was across her back, the hilt showing much evidence of use to Crispianâ€™s seasoned eye. It was very evident that she was comfortable with it as well. â€œDid you freeze a guard or something?â€ he asked in disbelief. Azi grinned and nodded, turning about so that Crispian could see her fully. â€œIs that how I look, milord?â€ she asked around her spreading grin. To see the seasoned armsman taken by surprise was a bit of a thrill to her, for she had longed for this moment for some time now. Crispian shook his head in disbelief as he looked at her, Wizard, friend, and on one occasion, savior. â€œWell, ye are a wizard!â€ he said, â€œA fine ice wizard, I might add!â€ he added as he set his mug of ale to one side, very aware that Azi would notice it. She shook her head. â€œNot any longer, friend,â€ she said, settling at the table where Crispian had been at work on the League rolls of membership. No one else in the hall seemed to have noticed Aziâ€™s entrance, or were not giving any not to another plate clad fighting woman, for there were many in the League. â€œWHAT?â€ Crispian gasped in surprise. The fullness of what Azi was talking about began to register on him. â€œWhat did you do?â€ She looked a bit sheepish as she started to explain. â€œI have taken up the sword,â€ she said quietly, â€œas my mother and father before me,â€ she paused a moment. â€œAnd as I was always meant to and as I always had dreamed of.â€ Her fine blue eyes met his redden gray eyes and held them, not in defiance or anger, but in a measured meeting. Crispian sat stunned as he listened to her. He recalled a conversation long ago about how even the touch of her hand to a sword blade would set Azi to trembling, how she would always drop the blade. Then r he recalled the more recent tales of her foray into Hibernia to meet, and ultimately defeat the curse of the blade, and how that had played out into even larger events. The ruination of an Elf Enchanter who was building his own mindless army from the peoples of Albion, Hibernia, and Midgard. And also, the valiant death of Aziâ€™s mother in that same fight. His jaws moved soundlessly for a moment as he grasped the entirety of it. â€œBut you were so skilled at magic, Azi,â€ he said quietly. She smiled at him sweetly. â€œYes, I shall miss my old schooling, but I swore to use it no longer so that I could become a paladin as I dreamed since I was a child, in my motherâ€™s arms,â€ she said a bit sadly. The choice had been hard to make for her, but she felt destine for this role she now served in. â€œI wish to join the League under my proper name, if you shall have me, dear friend,â€ she said, hand resting on Crispianâ€™s. Crispian could not contain the smile on his face. â€œOf course! I could not turn you away, you have done so much for me!â€ Azi smiled. â€œI did nothing more than aye friend wold do for another, my Lord,â€ she said quietly as Crispian pulled her to her feet. He stood, leading Azi from the League Hall and out into the street that ran before it. An upended barrel was there, and he sprung atop it lightly. â€œFriends! Albions! Countrymen!â€ he called out in a loud, battlefield voice. Many of those passing turned head to the young blond man in shining armor. â€œI ask your attention for a moment!â€ He held his arms high to further gain their attention as Azi began to blush deeply, not thinking that Crispian would do such as this. â€œToday is St. Crispinâ€™s League proud to be reunited with Azaeli Hammerfel, now a paladin where once she was a mighty Ice Wizard! Join me in welcoming her home to us!â€ Vinn clapped loudly, Ethazar, also crafting near, stood, exclaiming, â€œCelebration seems to be in order, Lad!â€ to Crispian as he jumped down from the barrel top. Crispian beamed at Azi. â€œHardly just that Azi,â€ he said, picking up their earlier conversation. â€œNone, save Tannir have seen as you did.â€ His eyes welled a bit with tears, but he blinked them down. Azi shook her head. â€œSpeak not that way, sir, friend. We all have our troubled times.â€ She knew she had only recently been freed of her own problems and difficulties beyond her control. â€œTwas more than just trouble,â€ he said quietly. Just as the awkwardness of the moment seemed to be stretching, Drae Loresinger, minstrel of the League, came up the street. â€œWelcome Home, Azaeli!â€ she said. Her own works in the Capitol had nearly made her a master tailor. Tears standing in her eyes, and then rolling freely down her cheeks, Azi entered the League Hall, with Seneschal and minstrel-Knight in companionship. â€œHOME!â€ she said loudly as she entered. The weeks of training and worrying about her acceptance were over. Finally, she was able to call the League family again. Mirashta, setting aside her tailoring work, embraced Azi. â€œHAIL!â€ she said, her own voice filling with emotion. Azi was smiling wide, looking as carefree and peaceful as Crispian could recall. â€œI have missed you all so deeply,â€ she said as her eyes took in all that filled the chamber. Kalsaak rose, bowing deeply. â€œAllow me greetings, Milady!â€ he said in his fine, cultured voice. Arcalan looked Azi with a blank expression. â€œGreetingssss,â€ she hissed. Crispian tried not to notice. â€œEven Arcalan must share my joy today!â€ he said firmly. â€œAzi is returned, no longer a wizard, but a paladin!â€ he added, true joy showing in his voice. Azi allowed a slight nod to the cabalist, whom she had met the day before in Camelot, prior to riding to far Cornwall to hunt with Jashen, Achou, Kalsaak, and others of the League. â€œArcalan,â€ she said, level voiced. She was determined to not let the cabalist spoil such a joyful moment for her. â€œIndeed, Crispian,â€ Arcalan said smoothly, â€œI am MOST pleased.â€ Her sarcasm was unmistakable, nor was her baiting of the Seneschal of the League. Crispianâ€™s smile faltered, for he was never pleased to be dealing with the Cabalist, and tried to not have to deal with her at all. â€œI could tell!â€ he quipped. â€œYour scales rubbed so nicely together,â€ he continued with a small smirk on his face. â€œThis day is now good and blessed!â€ he exclaimed to the rest of the League. As Mithralin entered the hall and greeted people, Arcalan allowed a small chuckle. â€œDo you propose a drink, Lord Crispian?â€ she purred. Azi, missing the exchange that was beginning, smiled at all in the Hall. â€œIt is good to be home! Thank you all for the welcome and the congratulations!â€ She was standing still as Crispian invested her with signs of knighthood; a broad white belt for purity, spurs for mastery of battle, and a hat which needed reblocking. Crispian smiled at Arcalan with little warmth. â€œIndeed! Let us all lift our tea high to Azaeliâ€™s honor!â€ he called out, taking a tankard of tea from Mirashtaâ€™s spot and lifting it in toast. Azi grinned at him. â€œYes, I have tea for you, milord, if you are fresh out,â€ she said, offering the grinning Seneschal a small, pungent packet. As he lifted his own tankard of ale, Oakleif offered Mithralin a hardy â€œHail!â€ Kalsaak raised his goblet of wine. â€œTo Azaeliâ€ he called out and took a deep drink. Azi was again smiling broadly. â€œOh, how I missed the League so!â€ she said, as new tears stood in her eyes. â€œSo difficult to get,â€ Arcalan said, toying with her mug of ale, â€œwhat with tea being the drink of choice among all strong warriors.â€ Her dry tone and smirk sent the barb home to Crispian. . â€œWelcome, Mithralin,â€ he said, a moment behind Ceowyrâ€™s greeting to the young wizard. â€œTea is the drink of choice for civil people, Arcalan,â€ he commented as he sat. â€œThus, I am sure you have never tasted the brew,â€ he continued in a dry, off-handed manner. As Azi grinned, and made a pointed effort not to acknowledge the cabalist, Arcalan made a sweeping gesture with her hand. â€œYour jibes bounce off me, Crispian, so save your breath for other fights,â€ she said archly. Sigowan chuckled. â€œNot to mention that Cabalists have a Reflect Wittism spell.â€ Azi whispered to Crispian, â€œThat woman is a demon, Crispian, or if she is not, she is as close to one as you can be!â€ She kept her voice low so that it did not carry beyond him. His face setting into a firm expression, Crispian looked directly at Arcalan. He still found her to be disagreeable in the extreme, and knew he played much at being innocent, but was far from that. â€œI need not waste breath on you,â€ he said calmly, â€œwhen I have facts gathered to my side.â€ He paused, holding her gaze. â€œDo you think all your and Ceowyrâ€™s work is unnoticed?â€ He watched her, wanting so betraying tick or sign to let him know he had landed a good strike, but her expression remained calm and frosty. He took the momentâ€™s pause to reply to Azi. â€œIndeed,â€ he said quietly she works to a different goal, I fear.â€ â€œPerhaps not so very different, dear friend,â€ Azi replied quietly. â€œIndeed, Crispian,â€ Arcalan said coldly. â€œI believe you appreciate little I do. So, yes, unnoticed.â€ She leaned back in her seat, resting against the wall. She smiled. Coewyr, Cleric of the Church and companion to the cabalist, stood. His patience were a bit thin at the moment and he did not intend to let this banter get out of hand. â€œTo be frank, My Lord Crispian,â€ he said as he rose, â€œyou are biased against Arcalan. I believe there is much good in her. We just have to give encouragement.â€ Crispian was not about to be unbraided by a cleric whom he was sure had compromised at least vows, if not more, in his time spent with Arcalan. â€œAnd I trust you are true to your pledge of purity and truth, Ceowyr?â€ he threw back at the cleric, pleased to see that it brought him up a little short in his reactions. The cleric gave Crispian a chilling look. â€œI am a servant of the church always,â€ he said in a tone that could make the warmest red-wine servable. Crispian arched an eyebrow at him, otherwise checking his own reaction. â€œIn truth?â€ Arcalan drew herself up. â€œCeowyr is among the few who can overlook the occasional harshness I deal out and see deeper,â€ she said. â€œBeyond the bottom of the barrel, at any rate, Crispian!â€ she snapped. Her temper was rising and the Seneschal had gotten some good barbs in. Crispian kept his eyes on the young cleric. His expression was flat, as it would be examining any potential enemy. â€œIndeed? Overlook is it?â€ he paused, â€œor condone?â€ Ceowyr straighten up at the scalding remark. â€œI have faith that Arcalan will do us proud,â€ he declared, his voice thick with anger. â€œI have faith she will do something,â€ Crispian quickly countered. â€œYou best keep your eyes focused on heaven, Brother Ceowyr,â€ he chided mildly, knowing there was more between these two than just confessor and penitent. Arcalan stood, stepping into the middle of the Hall. â€œI am oft too quick anger,â€ she said, her voice now taking on a hurt tone. â€œYet, Ceowyr is patient with me.â€ Azi watched her without changing the calm expression her face had taken on as this matter continued to brew on. â€œIndeed?â€ she observed dryly. â€œWhere your insults inflame, a kind heart,â€ she said, hands clasped to her bosom, â€œcan instead teach me more.â€ Her tone and manner struck Crispian as false as a tax-man pleading duty as he took your coin. â€œTis not patience you need to be taught, woman,â€ Crispian said in a low, dangerous tone. Azi tried to derail the conflict that was growing, for she did not feel this was time, or place, for such an argument. â€œMilord,â€ she said directly to Crispian, â€œI feel we have so much to talk about. It has been so long.â€ She hoped to be able to get Crispian out of the main hall, at least, even if he insisted on bringing Arcalan along so that they could hurl more insults at each other. Crispian turned to her, taking in the armor, the sword, and symbol of a paladin. He smiled. â€œAye it has indeed!â€ He too hoped that this conversation with Arcalan could be stopped. Azi colored at his words. â€œIs it that much of a shock, sir?â€ she asked, her voice tender and full of question. She had known from Jashen that Crispian was very likely to take the change of vocation as a shock, but she had expected him to rebound quickly. Arcalan towered, her back rigid in anger. Her eyes glinted with all the warmth of agates and the muscles of her jaw line danced. â€œOh really, â€˜masterâ€™ Crispian, what DO I need to learn?â€ she spat out, anger fueling her words with venom and scorn twisting them into weapons. Azi looked at Arcalan, her expression intentionally mild and pleasant. â€œArcalan,â€ she asked mildly. â€œIs all well with you? Last night, when we spoke, you were much more cordial. Now you seem troubled.â€ She raised her eyebrows in mild surprise and smiled pleasantly. The cabalist did not even turn to pay her any attention. She just continued to stare at the young seneschal. Finally, Arcalan turned and considered Azi. â€œI am cordial to those who have a civil tongue Azi, but when Crispian does bait me I am apt to return the thrust of his wit. Such as it is." She quirked an eyebrow cynically at Azi and turned back to meet Crispianâ€™s gaze. Crispianâ€™s gray eyes smoldered at her. Long months of warring against the enemies of Albion and the foul beings called forth on the land caused him to show no other reaction. He had faced worse than this young caster and was facing worse now. â€œYou may use Sir or Lord to address me, young miss,â€ he said levelly. â€œYou need to learn the values of compassion,â€ he raised a finger into the air, â€œcharity, and kindness, chief most of all.â€ His steady gaze did not falter in the least as Arcalan met it. He ticked each value off on a finger as he named them, Ceowyr turned to face his seneschal now. His face was ruddy with the flush of anger. â€œArcalan was entrusted to my care,â€ he said a bit sternly. His hand clasped about the holy symbol he wore. â€œWith time, and patience,â€ he continued, emphasizing the second word, â€œI believe she will become a highly valued citizen of the realm.â€ His tone was pure admonishment, and one any good cleric was skilled in the use of. Crispian met the clericâ€™s retort straight on, barely giving him time for breath at the end of it. â€œI would trust her more under the eyes of one such as Lady Wynter, or his Lordship, her husband,â€ he snapped at the young cleric. Then he again turned to Arcalan. â€œMy wit is not your concern,â€ he said defiantly to her. â€œArcalan, I fear what damage you can do to the League with your,â€ he paused, reaching for the right word, â€œwell, callow actions!â€ Azi again felt the need to try to head off what was shaping to be a bitter and acrimonious exchange, more so than she had feared earlier. â€œStill, those are strong words toward the Leagueâ€™s Seneschal, and your elder,â€ she said to Arcalan, who did not even react. She scowled at Crispian, instead, fixing her eyes upon him. â€œWhat actions do you speak of?â€ she hissed quietly. â€œSave to defend myself against your tongue, and your brotherâ€™s malice?â€ She hissed the last out at him. Crispian was not going into the innocent approach with Arcalan, nor did he feel inclined to bandy words with her. â€œYou know, full well,â€ he said calmly. â€œI shall not have all reports of your doings dragged out here in public!â€ he said with a tone of finality. Arcalanâ€™s glare became even more bitter. â€œI am content,â€ she said with deadly quiet, â€œfor my conduct, save for these spats where you rouse my anger, and has been flawless.â€ Her flat expression gave great testament to her anger. Ceowyr cleared his throat. â€œI have found that Arcalan has some problems with authority figures,â€ he said rather apologetically, â€œand as such it would be a bad idea for her to be put in Mirashtaâ€™s care.â€ Nalewin, riding the edge of the verbal storm, could contain herself no longer. â€œGoodness, everyone!â€ she declared loudly, â€œAll you need is love.â€ Arcalan smiled to Ceowyr for his timely comment. â€œAye,â€ she murmured, â€œafter all, Lord Crispian was of her care, and she seems to have neglected to teach him manners in dealing with women.â€ She twitched an eyebrow at Azi. Crispian shrugged her comment off and turned to Ceowyr again. â€œArcalan has problems, I agree,â€ he said in a heavy tone, â€œbut I think them not limited to authority, for she deals well enough with that.â€ Nydori was nodding in agreement to Nalewinâ€™s statement. As Arcalan quipped, â€œIndeed, love is all you need.â€ She favored Crispian with a bland look. â€œBut Crispian invited me here, and yet he bears me no love.â€ Nalewin caught the comment. â€œForgive me if I seem lighthearted, but I mean what I say.â€ Crispian looked again to Arcalan. â€œâ€™Tis not women, Arcalan, as Drae, or Azi or Nydori could tell you.â€ He included each woman named with a move of his eyes. â€œI have no issues with the fairer sex.â€ Nalewin grinned down at the seneschal. â€œExcept that we tower over himâ€ Arcalan looked at Crispian with disdain and amusement. The corner of her mouth quirked up in a cruel grin. â€œIndeed,â€ she flicked her eyes over him. â€œNo issue at all with the fairer sex.â€ She turned away from him. â€œNo issue from the eldest son...and the line passes to Jashen to continue.â€ She sat on a bench in profile to Crispian. He glared a type of cold death at her. â€œKeep a civil tongue in your mouth, Arcalan!â€ he hissed in pure anger. She was starting to get the better of his temper, and he knew he should keep it more in check. Nydori, having observed this all, cleared her throat. â€œThough, Lord Crispian, I must say,â€ she said calmly, â€œIâ€™ve seen nae wrong doing from Arcalan since Iâ€™ve joined a wee bit ago.â€ Her highland burr was a gentle counterpoint to the Avalonian and two Britons who had been sparring verbally thus far. â€œTHAT is her intent, Nydori,â€ Crispian said quietly. â€œThat none see her secret works.â€ He could feel the tide of sentiment shifting toward the Cabalist, and he most certainly did not want that. â€œNot one to say it,â€ Ceowyr said in a mild tone, â€œbut that sounds like paranoia.â€ He pursed his lips in thought. Arcalan sighed explosively. â€œI have made...mistakes in my past,â€ she almost cried. â€œWho has not? Yet Ceowyr,â€ whom she favored with a kind smile, â€œhas taught me more noble ways to live and breath and be with a family or friends, such as Nydori, Nalewin, Marzan.â€ She looked at Crispian. â€œBut this hate of yours stems from my past, and I wish you could forgive.â€ Crispian snorted derisively. â€œYour past?â€ he asked calmly, seeing the opening he hoped for. â€œWhat of your present?â€ Arcalan jumped in. The turn of Crispianâ€™s attitude to her seemed a lapse toward weakness. â€œCould it be I am a lesson for YOU, Lord Crispian?â€ she shot at him. â€œAnd not the other way around? Or are you secure in an arrogance that you can learn nothing from me?â€ She flicked he head archly. â€œArrogance?â€ Crispian said quietly. â€œI am ever a student of life.â€ â€œAnd WHAT about my present?â€ Arcalan rushed over his statement, her words as much a challenge as a gauntlet. Now it was Crispian who smirked. â€œWhat say you of the late night meetings you have?â€ He watched her hawk like. â€œThe skulking in shadows? The hording of items best destroyed?â€ Nydori was truly distressed at the way these two were going at each other. â€œI have nae seen any wrong doing, and with no proof, I think it unfair to accuse her oâ€™ such or suspect.â€ Her eyes watched both for some reaction. â€œWe should all be suspect then.â€ She concluded softly. Arcalan again fixed Crispian with her icy stare. â€œThan open your eyes and learn, student of life. Learn to forgive me my dealings with the Shadow Guild, and overcome your fondness for prejudice,â€ she said, her chin quivering in near tears. Crispian laughed. â€œThink I have a problem with the Shadow Guild?â€ he asked her. â€œWhen you know my brother? Jashen is a mercenary and he too follows the Shadowed path,â€ he reminded her, with a raised finger. Arcalan clenched her jaw, gritting teeth. â€œI said MY dealings with them,â€ she spat out. â€œThere are layers to an onion Crispian. Donâ€™t twist my words!â€ â€œI did not twist your words,â€ Crispian spat back. â€œYOU made the assumption about me. YOU said that I could not deal with the Shadow Guild!â€ he reminded her none to gently. â€œYOU said I was closed minded to YOUR dealings.â€ Arcalanâ€™s chin quivered as she put on her best miserable face. â€œAll that I say you twist against me!â€ she sobbed out. â€œVery well! I shall keep my peace and speak not, if you will use my own words as weapons to hurt me.â€ She fretted with her hands, noticing the effect her apparent misery had on the on-lookers. Crispian shook his head slightly. â€œI but observe what you do. Tis you,â€ he raised his eyebrows at her, â€œwho must hurl the first insult, the first slight.â€ He intentionally kept his tone mild, calm, giving her no cause for further excitement. Arcalan threw her head back with a cry. â€œWitness League! I bear him no malice, for he goes through a difficult time. I merely pray one day he will find it in his heart to accept a Penitent as the Church does!â€ She clasped his hands before her in an attitude of piousness that Crispian found strangely revolting coming from her. â€œYou bear me no malice?â€ he shot at her, the mockery of her pose too much for him. â€œThen why is it you who must first open the wounds I struggle with daily?â€ The hurt in his expression was genuine to those who knew him, mostly by the slight narrowing of his eyes. â€œTis you who always bring up the evil curse upon me!â€ Arcalan snorted in disdain, her delicate features curling into a near snarl. â€œYour wounds are yours to tend, Lord Crispian! I inflict none.â€ She turned her head away in contempt. â€œI do not wish to speak with you if you will torment me thus!â€ Her voice and tone were both brittle with emotion. Crispian could not bear this. â€œTorment YOU? You insight my ire, and then lay blame on me?â€ he asked incredulously. â€œTis like a troll saying we are wrong to slay him at the Relic for he was but looking!â€ He could not believe she was protesting innocence. Ceowyr looked at Crispian with the blandest of expressions, his hands clasped across his abdomen. â€œI think I would be aware if she were casting evil curses, my Lord,â€ he said with bland drollness. Arcalan toyed with an amulet, turning so that none saw the small smile that crept over her face. Crispian gave the cleric a dismissive look. â€œShe casts it not, but she works in its cause it would seem!â€ he commented. â€œWhy else would her every word be a barb to me?â€ He leveled his question squarely to the cleric. It must be possible to get him out of Arcalanâ€™s camp. â€œAnd you, Ceowyr, who defend her and fawn at her side like some ineffectual lackey!â€ He fixed a stern scowl on the cleric. At that moment, Mensc entered the hall. Hail brethren and sisters in arms!â€ he called jauntily into the charged air. â€œHail Mensc,â€ Crispian said, an easy smile on his face at the sight of the young fighter. â€œJashen speak very highly of you.â€ Arcalan was doing her best crying at the moment. Ceowyr could not the opportunity pass. â€œI think you have the wrong idea, My Lord. Are you so biased against Arcalan that you will taint all who associate with her?â€ He shook his head slightly. â€œI do my best to steer her onto the path of light through the teachings of the church.â€ His hand was again curled protectively around the symbol of the church that hung upon his breast. Arcalan managed to offer a truly pious look for a moment. â€œI am the object of your ire because you suffer, Crispian,â€ she offered her most sincere tone. â€œI will bear it, for tis part of your curse,â€ she finished with a sob. â€œPlease do not turn on Holy Ceowyr though.â€ She lifted her red-rimmed eyes to Crispian. â€œHis reputation, unlike mine, is spotless.â€ Her hands pressed to her lips in a moment of anguish, or what Crispian supposed was to be seen as anguish. Crispian had had enough. â€œOh, is THAT how you wish to cast it, Arcalan?â€ he challenged her. â€œBe warned, I have your first words to me, and witnesses!â€ He had no intention of letting this swamp-spawned caster of magicks twist it all on him. He had enough of that already through Dâ€™Vena. The last thing he needed was yet another caster placing their own sufferings and wrong-doing upon him. Arcalan truly did an impressive job at that moment in playing the wronged, Crispian had to admit. Her face was stricken, almost as if she had feelings to hurt. Her eyes welled, chin quivered. Had he known better, he would have been certain that she was truly jibed by what he had said. However, having read what Jashen sent him, and more, having seen her himself, he knew that was not the case. She was an agent of some sort, and he would press her so that she found no easy road during her time in the League, where at least she could be watched as closely as he had been having her. The Almighty alone knew what her real intent and purpose was. She pressed her hands against her face, and then dropped them, tipping her head back so that she was looking heavenward. â€œI shall be silent,â€ she gasped in a choked voice. â€œVent your wrath, Lord. I will be as a willow in a storm and yield to it.â€ Her Lord was either a direct reference to Crispian, or a plea to the Almighty, and Crispian did not care which at the moment. â€œPerhaps like the willow,â€ he challenged further, â€œyou could seek the light and not dark alleyways?â€ He wanted to press more, to let her know that the League offered no haven for her deeds if they were evil in nature. Her eyes swept those in the Guild Hall. â€œCeowyr, Nydori, Adaya! Pray to heaven for his soul, I plead of you!â€ Her eyes brimmed with tears again and cynically Crispian wondered where she summoned them all from. â€œMay the Lord our Savior make him what he once was!â€ Her clasped hands were pressed into her lips in an attitude of prayer. In all your orisons, be he remembered!â€ Azi signed herself and did indeed pray, although she had not been so implored by Arcalan. She had already included Crispian in her prayers for some time, and had even tithed at Vestutala Abbey to have special offerings made for his intentions. However, she could not contain her feelings for Arcalan. â€œFoul, foul creature she is,â€ Azi whispered quietly. Nydori again had the feeling that this was all going beyond her. â€œI do nae know the jist of any of this, and lay nae wrong with either o' yea, nor prayers at this moment. Arcalan turned her crushed expression to the highland lass. â€œCrispian is not at his best, Nydori,â€ she said softly. â€œI thought he was open with his affliction with all in the League. Or, thus he said to me,â€ she said as she turned eyes that glinted with some victory on Crispian. Azaeli looked to trusted friend and new adversary. â€œI shall pray for both of you, for both of you are in need of the Light,â€ she said gently. â€œSister Arcalan,â€ Nydori said as a hint of steel crept into her voice, â€œI would better wish nae know what you think of the other. Ye are both given to your own assumptions, it seems.â€ She included Crispian in a most vexed look. â€œI shall make me own!â€ Arcalan kept the wounded martyr look upon her face. â€œPoor man, resent not his wrath,â€ she called to the League as a whole. â€œTis but a remnant of the struggle he fights with mad,â€ she caught herself, â€œI mean, with the...curse...he is suffering.â€ Crispian was not about to let her turn his plight into something that would make him shunned. He was fighting too many others small battles to let that happen. â€œI will be clear with all that plagues me, if ye wish to know it,â€ he said as he took a seat in the midst of the League members. â€œAllow me to speak a few moments, Arcalan,â€ he said in a tone of exhaustion. â€œSurely I do merit that?â€ he asked her, plaintive voiced. Nydori shook her head. â€œNae, for tis naught that I have seen meself. If it is so terrible, I trust our councilâ€™s wisdom!â€ She made as if to leave the guildâ€™s hall. Arcalan sat rigid and silent, waiting for Crispian to begin. Crispian scanned the faces of his brothers and sisters. His feelings were so strong toward them all that he knew he must trust his fate in their opinion. He took a deep breath and began. â€œNot long ago,â€ he started, allowing images long buried to come to his mind. â€œAbout two months, no more, there was an issue involving some companions of mine, good folks and true.â€ He allowed the faces of all those from that time to come to mind. So many he had not seen in a very long time, and others he had not heard even rumor of. â€œTied to this one name, Dâ€™Vena, a sorceress, mighty and dread.â€ He paused as his mind conjured up all the images of that day. The fire, Dâ€™Venaâ€™s milky skin and warm, dry touch. He noticed Azi shudder slightly, for she knew much of this tale as well. â€œWell, Dâ€™Vena possessed and guarded secrets that she hid in the deepness of her personal chambers.â€ He recalled his consideration of other courses, of others who could have tried what he had tried, and laughed lightly. â€œThere was but one way,â€ he said quietly, a slow blush coloring his cheeks, â€œto lay her defenses bare, and I did take it.â€ He could well recall the courtly ladyâ€™s pleasant surprise when he arrived that night, with wine and sweet candies. And when he returned again later. As he paused, Arcalan blushed, and Azi looked away. â€œI plied her with wine, compliments, and other, ah, charms,â€ he said as it became his turn to blush, â€œto win her trust for a few moments at least. And, well, from there, as is said, nature took its course.â€ He allowed a moment for everyone to fill in his unspoken comments. â€œAs she slumbered,â€ he continued, his tone low and subdued, for these were still actions he was not proud of, and had it not been for the risks involved, they were actions he would not have taken, â€œI found her secrets, and revealed them to my friend, who then sent me back to get more evidence. And I did, compromising body and virtue in the cause of good.â€ He cast his gaze to the floor. â€œHer plot was far reaching, and in the end, it was the kingâ€™s troops who were brought against her, and some then members of the League, the Red Lions, Wayward Band, and others.â€ He recalled the great fracas at the manor house. Azi shook her head sadly. Crispianâ€™s throat worked to swallow the lump of emotion that was threatening to choke him. â€œBut even in defeat, she was not harmless. She did get a last spell off as they led her away. And from that day, I have labored with a burden on my heart and soul, and a, disorder to my wants in the world.â€ He paused, composing himself. Tashtego, young armsman of the League, wiped at his eye for a moment. â€œâ€™Twas beautiful, Crispian.â€ Azi looked at her liege with compassion filling her eyes, for she knew seen much of the toll this took on him. â€œI have sought solace in ale, in battle, in death,â€ he continued on, voice flat and lifeless. â€œAnd, I confess, with other men,â€ he added quietly. Or at least one other, he thought to himself, not willing to let Tobyas be drawn into this cesspool that was dealing with Arcalan. He stood up. â€œSo, that is my curse, my burden, which SHE,â€ he stabbed a finger at Arcalan, brings ever before me.â€ Azi grasped the hilt of her sword so tight her knuckles were white, her nails showing pale in her finger tips. â€œIt shall be put right, my dear Lord,â€ she vowed, her intensity carrying her quiet pledge throughout the hall. â€œAnd I swear you my aid, if you should need it!â€ She drew her sword, holding the cross guard up, as if a cross, and kissing the relic housed therein. Her eyes were filled with compassion. Crispian looked at his dear friend. â€œDaily, good Azi, and the aid of ye all!â€ he said to the assembly of the League that was present. â€œSo, now you know the worst of me,â€ he said with a grim smile. Arcalan was notable quiet as she watched. It was occurring to her that she might have underestimated this young armsman, who some said was modest because he was unskilled. Humble, because he could not motivate. It appeared that at least some of those reports were indeed in grave error. She herself had just seen that he could be an eloquent speaker, bearing out in truth with his heart on his sleeve, and to quite a good effect. Tashtego clapped Crispian on the shoulder. â€œWell, we still like ye,â€ he said as he moved through the hall. â€œAnd I do appreciate that, Tash!â€ he said in response, clasping the warriorâ€™s arm in passing. Arcalan decided to take another tack at the matter, as things were not playing out as she wished. She drew a great breath and sighed loudly. â€œI stand accused,â€ she said levelly, calmly, â€œof tormenting your soul, Crispian, yet you are free to wander the forge at Camelot drunk and upsetting others.â€ She paused. â€œI have done you no harm, and yet you flare at me as though I bestowed this curse! Do not say I cast it up when half of Camelot knows your woes through your drunken revels!â€ She had managed quite a head of self-righteous indignation at the end of her speech. Azaeli patted Crispianâ€™s arm in a comforting gesture, her anger vying to get the better of her. â€œHe cannot help himself, Arcalan. Can you not see that?â€ Her voice, though low, was full of passion. Crispianâ€™s face became a mask of pain, as he allowed his self-imposed mask of control to yield to his true feelings. â€œAnd when I drink, I harm none,â€ he said, his voice too dropping, but full of aching emotion. Azi again squeeze Crispianâ€™s arm. â€œI disagree, milord,â€ she said. â€œYou harm yourself.â€ Her voice filled with pain. â€œI do, Azi,â€ Arcalan pressed, trying to keep the turn of conversation to her advantage. â€œThis is why I practice the forgiveness and endurance that Ceowyr preaches to me of,â€ she gave Azi that frosty smile of hers again. Crispian patted Aziâ€™s hand and chuckled. â€œAye, but none other!â€ The concern of Azi for him was truly comforting. â€œNone other, Lord,â€ Azi continued, but that does still count as harming one.â€ Crispian sighed. â€œAye, well, â€˜tis my burden, and my harm,â€ he said in a voice barely more than a whisper. He had accepted the damage he did to himself long back now, when he decided that none other would suffer as he did. Aziâ€™s continued look of forthrightness brought color to his face. Arcalan looked at Crispian with something that might have passed for compassion on another face. â€œThe hatred you feel for Dâ€™Vena,â€ she said as a shudder passed through her, â€œspills out of you sometimes. If I must mop up excesses, I pray that I have learnt the strength,â€ she said quietly. Crispian looked at her, not completely sure if her feelings were being completely feigned in this matter. â€œYou need not complicate matters, Arcalan,â€ he said quietly, trying not to raise this back to the near-shouting match it had been. Azi favored Tashtego with a warm look as the two verbal combatants took a pause. â€œDear Tastego, you who has brought me to the bowels of Keltoi and back, I owe you my deep thanks. How well it is to see you in the guild halls!â€ she said to him. Before such topics could be pursued, Arcalan got things back to the track she wanted them to stay on for a bit longer. â€œI do try rightly to help,â€ she said, â€œbut that I am buffeted by cruel words in return I understand.â€ Crispian shook his head. â€œLet it go, woman,â€ he said, at last having had enough of this, â€œand truly set aside your workings.â€ Arcalan drew herself again, to play the injured. â€œI work only good, and shall continue to do so!â€ She managed a good note of pain and suffering in her declaration of good intent. Crispian looked up at her. â€œYour pure heart will tell in your actions, Arcalan, not your words, I caution you,â€ he said mildly. He sighed his vexation at the entire issue. He shook his head. â€œBut more than that, I cannot do.â€ Arcalan, keeping her face in the fixed look of the wronged, sighed. â€œI hope already other can attest to my good will,â€ she said in her hurt tone. â€œAnd your good works?â€ Crispian challenged mildly. He had an expression that asked for real confirmations of Arcalanâ€™s protests. She again took on the look of the one wronged. â€œI only beg you to cease to torment me, and my new found strength,â€ she said in a pleading fashion, â€œwhile Ceowyr instructs me further.â€ Azi shook her head. â€œCrispian, Lord, let it lie. Time will show. Words shall not.â€ She so wished that they could move beyond this especially on this day, when she had revealed her own joyous secret to the League. Crispian was still staring at Arcalan. â€œAnd you the same,â€ he said to her. â€œTest not my resolve toward you, nor that of my brother. We twins are closer than you realize,â€ he said in a cautionary but not challenging fashion. â€œOnly the other day,â€ Arcalan nearly sobbed out, â€œdid I freely dispense advice, seals of emerald and fine cloth among my fellow League!â€ She sobbed for a moment longer. â€œAnd fear not about my quarrels with Jashen, Crispian. I have buried them now. I realize you brothers are but a knifeâ€™s edge apart.â€ She threw her hand up to her forehead. â€œNow, this eveâ€™s struggles within my home have wearied me. I must make camp and refresh myself for future battles.â€ With that, she swept from the Guild Hall and proceeded to her quarters, leaving the rest of the group weary and tired from the more than spirited exchange. Azi called to her back as she left the hall, â€œGod bless you, Arcalan, good night and be well.â€ â€œGood Luck tae ye, Arcalan,â€ Iphemiar added. Pausing at the door, Arcalan looked back. â€œYou too, Azi. May the rooters let you be peacefully. Fare thee well League,â€ she shot to them all as she left. Azi watched her go through narrowed eyes. â€œWell, yes,â€ Azi said mildly. â€œThank you Lady Cabalist.â€ -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The door opened with no sound at all, as Jashen slipped into the room. Azi was tucked up on the bed, drinking tea. He smiled. It was so like her. "What you got there, Azaeli?" he asked, sitting down himself. "A tome, a magical tome that had to do with Crispian's curse," she whispered. "It came with this note." She passed the parchment to Jashen, who read it quickly, examining it. "Azi, something is wrong," he peered at the note again. "Cris wouldn't sign something to you with his full name, nor would he neglect his signet seal," he said, looking at her sideways. "but maybe, you should play along. I'm off to the city. It is time to see some old friends," he quietly handed her the document. "And speak to my aunt as soon as ye can please." He departed for the city on his horse, holding curses in check under his breath. That wench Arcalan had some explaining to do. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi quickly perused the first few pages of the work, the strange symbols falling into place in her head and she worked through it's preamble. She delved into the next page with great excitement, for indeed these were works of sorcery, and she had seen much of them through the Academy. The ancient use of some of the symbols phased her not one bit, she deciphered them with a mind bright and agile for being so long from her craft. Her eyes fell upon one single symbol inserted in the line. Two sets of concetric circles pressing against each other stared her in the face. Her limbs were suddenly reluctant to obey her commands. Her eyelids fixed open, her eyes fixated on that one simple sigil she had so carelessly read. Her breaths came in shallow gulps, as her lungs slowed. Her lips felt numb. There was no mistaking a mezmerization spell. How foolish she had been in trusting this tome! And Crispian had inadvertantly trapped her! Azi caught a motion in the periphery of her vison, but could barely move her eyes to look at it. In front of her was a small and hideous imp, like a Molochian Tempter reduced in size to a mere handspan. But what if Crispian hadn't sent the note? What if.. D'Vena.. oh. No. The burned cover flashed through her mind, the discription of D'Vena's mansion wreathed in flame, the accursed symbol she had tripped in reading D'Vena's Book. The tiny imp positively squeeked with joy. Long had it been bound in this volume until it's one task was performed, then it could be free. It began to gesture, looking straight at Azaeli, making sweeping movements of it's arms. Visions of Master Visur repeating those motions burned in Azi's brain. She flexed her muscles as much as she could, she fought with all her will, and sent forth a prayer for divine intervention. Not all her strength nor will could break the spell. The little imp completed it's motions, swirling a blue orb and flames around it, it flung it's arms wide and cast the Gateway spell. Azi was flung through space frozen still as stone and mind racing with fear. Where would she appear? __________________________________________ D'Vena cackled. Ripples of laughter passed through her like the convulsions of a dying man as his organs are removed while he is still breathing. She shrieked with hysterical laughter, and then subsided into a chuckle, a low moaning chuckle. Blood cacked her nails where she had dug them deep into the flesh of her own palm. Someone had tripped her ward upon her Grimoir. She had thought the pretty volume lost in the flames of her house, lost to the lapping flames and the stupid pig farmer and his cronies. She howled in laughter once more and fought to stay upright. The energies swirled in the room, and coalesced into a single point, depositing the paralysed form of Azaeli before her. Her laughter changed to a demented tittering as she surveyed the young cleric. She quickly renewed the Mezmerisation, and Azi felt her mind spiral away from her body, losing all control... D'Vena spat on the floor, and staggered towards her new plaything. "AH" she drawled through strange little gasps and giggles "You my pretty little girl, should not have meddled with me." She drew closer, and a long finger twireled a lock of Azi's hair. Azi feverantly wished she were in armor, though she knew that was of little good, it would have made her feel better. "You were sent to me-heheheehehe heeh heh... h.. to complete the last piece-heech heeheehe of the curse" she snorted out "You'll seal the fate of Crispian Jasphurr-hur-hur-hur P-p-pontiff" and punctuated her sentance by stabbing her finger into the eye of Azi. D'Vena thrilled over this new twist of fate... surely the old gods of Avalon were on her side.. Azi was the vessel into which she'd pour her malediction, and deliver her to Crispian like a poison chalice to his lips. She began to work her plan immeadiately, obliviously tugging out fistfuls of her own hair as she worked. </bump over to you Crispian! > -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	OOC <Jarred with excitement and anticipation!! WOOOOT!> BTW paladin not cleric though -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	(prepares his own defense) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi watched the insane creature with disgust. Chill warnings of evil stabbed through her, even through the mesmerization that held her fast. So this was D'vena. This wretched, wasted, tittering hag was the cause of Crispian's pain. At that moment she did not regret in the least opening that vile tome. She kept her mind calm and even as she had been trained by the church to do, and set her thoughts to prayer. But her eyes, little as she could move them, kept a steady watch on the madness taking place before her. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Word of the charges from Pompin was quick to spread. The Lords of Justice began to work on the warrants; the High Marshal of Camelot began to work on the decritals for attainder of lands. Word was passed to the King. The Defenders of Albion received word. The work of sorting out private holdings from League holdings was begun in the Lord Chancellors offices. However, there were somethings Arcalan had not accounted for. Warrants were missent, or contained errors and had to be redrafted. The Lord High Chancellor, due to his meticulous work in seeing to that the right lands were seized did not sign attainders. And somehow, the patrol that the Defenders sent out to take Sir Crispian Lord Pontiff into custody went to Snowdonia Castle, having received some questionable information that the young Armsman Lord was at Caer Hurbury on an assignment. However, Corporal Ardy MacArdy, a bonnie highlander lad, was sent south to Lyonesse. His stated mission was to pass word to Lords Ulfwych, Adribald, and Witrin that Crispian was under warrant of the King. There might be some who would later question the judgement of Captain Rion in sending a young man like Ardy south, especially seeing as how he somehow made statements about the charges in every stable yard he passed through, once within earshot (Ardy had moved three times to make sure) of a young blond Briton armsman in burnished platemail. Thus it was that Crispian had word of what was going on while he was out of the city. An invitation to hunt in Lyonesse with Mirashta and Oakleif, in the company of Arguyle MacFadden had been too tempting to him. His warrior edge had been getting dulled by making weapons. The enthusiasm of the young armsmen and mercenaries purchasing his wears had begun to make him sullen and surly. So, when Arguyle had asked him if he would be interested in thinning out the animated trees and wormwoods that preyed in Lyonesse, he had said yes. He still harbored some resentment toward the highlander Lord and General for his absence during the recent problems with Dâ€™Vena, but the truth of his friendship was not in doubt to Crispian. Of course, a few tankards of ale to dull that resent seemed wise. It was three horses down to Yardleys, and Crispian waited. The evening sun was just sliding under the far horizon as he stood on the road by the small trading encampment mulling over all that he had heard. He purchased parchment from the traders and dashed off some short notes. Kelvyn, Hyacynthe, and Laraleloth were his correspondences, and he hoped that word reached them quickly enough to make some sort of a difference. They had all been good friends, over the last difficulties, and Hyacynthe for sometime before that. He considered Moryan and Glavian, but word had been scarce of them lately, and he needed firm friends in his camp. With a certain dread, he hoped that Azi, Jashen, Tannir, and others were well, but there was naught he could do for them. Jashen and Azi were both skilled in their works and he had little doubt as to their ability to take care of themselves. Tannir was another matter. He was still a lad, and looked to Crispian as a hero and role model. He hoped that the boyâ€™s hero-worship and unquestioning acceptance of tasks from his Lord would not lead him into harm, or worse, an early grave. The coming of Arguyle was heralded by nothing more grand than a snorting horse, but somehow the highlander made even that an event. He swept down from his horse with his great cloak sliding down behind him. Despite his office, he always paused to have a word with the stable man and his boy about the care of his horse, even sliding a few extra coins out of his belt pouch. Crispian felt his pulse jump at the sight of the man, though. Their last conversation had been the bitter exchange outside of Sauvage Castle. He braced himself for the onslaught he knew would come from Dâ€™Venaâ€™s working. He only hoped he could master it long enough to emplore the aid of the paladin. â€œHail, Lord General,â€ he said, giving a firm salute. â€œHail, Crispian! Has been a long time, lad!â€ the older lord greeted him, clapping a large highlander hand on Crispianâ€™s shoulder. â€œHow fare ye?â€ Crispian could not contain the sigh he had been holding in. â€œNot well, General. I have found out that I am to be charged with assault, and I am already due to stand trial for killing an unarmed man.â€ He tried to keep the pain and disappointment of it all from his expression, but failed. â€œWhat is this?â€ Arguyle almost roared, only barely checking himself from a very raised voice. â€œWhat are these charges about, lad?â€ he asked as he watched the younger man in the lights from the camp. â€œAre they true?â€ Arguyle had already stood by other friends who had been tried for a variety of things, some true, some false. But, he had always been there for them. â€œNay, General, both are not true,â€ Crispian said quietly. â€œThe first is a false charge, but I am guilty enough of the second.â€ He thought it would be better to deal with the worst and true charge first, so that he could enlist Arguyleâ€™s aid in the second. â€œWhat caused ye to slay a man unarmed?â€ Arguyle frowned deeply. As a paladin, and a Lord, he had never raised sword to an unarmed person of the Realm. What mattered the assault if murder was a true charge? â€œI was waylaid sometime ago by a small group of men. I didnâ€™t intend to kill anyone,â€ Crispian explained, as others of the hunting party began to arrive. â€œI was even using the flat of my blade, but it is a magical blade. As I struck one, the magic was unleashed.â€ Arguyle scowled at the tale. â€œLord Adribald is to sit the trial.â€ Crispian felt badly relating this all to Arguyle, who had been friend true and noble. â€œWell,â€ the highlander said, scratching at his chin, â€œthe Lord Adribald is a good man, and will mete out justice once the truth be known.â€ He watched Crispian closely. â€œAnd the other?â€ Crispian closed his eyes, exhaling loudly. â€œI am accused of assault Pompin, a crier. And those charges were brought in Camelot. The king will try me there.â€ He watched Arguyleâ€™s reaction. â€œI am going to need some help on that, Lord-General.â€ Arguyle nodded. He knew well that the Kingâ€™s Justice could be swift and terrible, when given just cause. But he also knew Constantine would listen to reason. He would have to see about getting some of his old friendâ€™s time. â€œHow fare ye otherwise, lad?â€ he asked as his mind began to formulate ideas. Drinking deeply from a skin, Crispian paused. He braced himself, hoping his resolve would hold. â€œThere is still trouble with Dâ€™Vena,â€ he said, looking toward the horizon. â€œBah! That witch troubles ye still? Where is she held up?â€ The anger of a highlander was swift, but a grudge this old made for more than anger. This was now a matter of pure rage at Dâ€™Venaâ€™s repeated injustices. â€œLast I heard, Lyn Barfog somewhere,â€ Crispian said mildly, not wanting to have to go into his own forays into Lyn Barfog in an effort to find her. The highlander paladin shook his head. â€œWe shall have to do more about her later,â€ he said quietly, as the other companions to the hunt began to arrive. â€œAnd we shall do to that one!â€ he said as he adjusted his shield and turned to greet the others for the hunt. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/late morning bump - had to deal with a four hour car dive with crisp editing.... so... he gets bump -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas overheard the young highlander at the stable yard. His heart leaped into his throat. Crispian surely could not be guilty of beating anyone! He was too kind, and gentle. Such was not a truth! He sped back to the city on horse and went straight away to find Tannir, but the lad was missing. It was most unlike Tannir to leave the city for more than an errand. Toby began to ask around the church area, seeking those intinerants he knew, and the friars of the defenders. Finally, in desperation, he headed into the Shadow Quarter, beyond the Shadow Guild complex. This had been home to him until recently. He easily made his way about, passing through areas most citizens of the city would not go. It took him but a few minutes to find the old areas he knew so well. He passed the Mermaid, for he would never go there again. Then, he ducked into Mama's. The sleazy dive had almost been like a second home on those days he could get away from the Mermaid. Most of the faces that looked up at him now, though showed apprehension. For this Tobyas was a full-fledged battle cleric, not the boy-prositute he had been. He walked directly to the bar and paused to survey the room. "Wine," he said the barkeep, slapping down a copper coin. The wine was bitter and watered. He sipped from the clay goblet and then saw the face he sought. With a bold stride, he walked up to the woman. "Ulega," he smiled to her, "I need your help." She openly appraised him for a moment, and then recognition set in. "Toby, ye need a help I cinnae give ye," she purred, leaning into him. "Or has the noble-boy tired of takin' the poke, eh?" She grinned a wicked grin, knowing perhaps more about Toby's bedroom habits than any other. Toby actually blushed, having forgotten the casual manner of sex in this part of the city. "Not that kind of help," he said as he drew he to a quiet corner. They spoke for some time, in hushed whispers. Finally, the woman stood, kissing Tobyas on the cheek. "You must be in love, Toby. A year ago or less, you would have rolled 'im fer 'is purse and moved to the next one." She smirked. "I envy dat, lad, and I'll 'elp ye." Then she left the building, vanishing into the street with skills an infiltrator would kill for, as she was well aware. Within an hour, there was not a gate or doorway near the Shadow Guild that did not have eyes or ears in them. And more watchers were about than one would expect. Tobyas sat back, hood pushed from his head. His plain cloak and chain mail kept the splinters of the worn bench from poking through. He smirked. Arcalan might work deadly magicks and dangerous plots, but no one could cross the dregs of Camelot and get away with it. A new emotion crept into his heart - Just Vengence. And he swore the Almighty that retribution would be his. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The two twins sat opposite each other. Crispian looked haggard, ragged, and almost spent. Jashen looked like better, but his eyes danced with anger and a malicious glee. â€œThereâ€™s not else to it, Jash,â€ Crispian said again. â€œIâ€™ll just have to turn myself into the King and resign my post, before he can take it.â€ His words were thick from ale and he gestured a bit more than he needed to. Jashen shook his head. â€œWho else could lead as you have, Cris? And no one will believe these charges! Theyâ€™re insane!â€ He had almost had enough of the self-pity that Crispian was wallowing in, and was even debating taking him outback of the station for a sound drubbing, even if Jashen himself might end up losing. Crispian rubbed the back of his neck with one scarred hand. â€œIâ€™ll put you up to replace me as Seneschal,â€ he continued on, as if his brother had not spoken. He was now leaning on one elbow, head bobbing forward. â€œYouâ€™ll do fine. Hell, some people might not even notice,â€ he muttered, tipping the mug up and getting more on his shirt than in his mouth. â€œItâ€™ll be good for you,â€ he managed to get out, eyes failing to focus on Jashen, sitting two feet away. â€œCris, you donâ€™t understand what is at stake,â€ Jashen said, launching into the argument for the hundredth time, but then he saw that Cris was quite passed out. It was interrupted by the approach of a guard in the King's Livery. ((Editted to match the next post's line)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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King_Constantine Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	As Crispian sat drinking his ale with Jashen and arguing over who should take over his role as Seneschal of the League the door swung open and in walked a troop of armed soldiers. All of whom were wearing the crest of King Constantine. One of them, the officer by the looks of him, stepped forward and extended his hand toward Crispian. He was holding a parchment and offered it to the young Lord. "Crispian Pontiff, you are charged with the assault of Pompin the Crier. You have been accused of unlawfully and maliciously attacking and unarmed man and must answer these charges before His Majesty, King Constantine. Surrender yourself at this time and accompany me to Camelot." said the officer most matter-of-factly. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian looked up from his ale, and then at his twin. He gave him a grim smile as he rose, taking his sword and offering it pommel first to the officer. "I surrender myself to the King's justice," he said rather formally, giving his shield into Jashen's keeping. With a set of shoulder worthy of any in his station, he faced the officer. "Let's be to it then," he said. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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King_Constantine Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Two of the guardsman stepped forward and began to shackle the young Lord but were stopped abruptly. "Nay! His Majesty gave strict orders that if Lord Crispian surrendered himself peacefully that he not be shamed by wearing the shackles of a common criminal. We shall take him at his word and allow him to ride, armed, with us to Camelot." said the officer. With that he handed Crispian's sword back to him and led him from the hall. The ride back to Camelot proved to be quite uneventful as Crispian was true to his word and came without a fuss. The men led him through the back gates so that they might not draw undue attention to the man. They led him through the dimly lit halls until they came to a room that bore the crest of the King. There they turned him over to the King's personal guard who in turn led him into the chamber. As Crispian entered he saw the King first. Sitting in a high-backed chair staring intently at him as he entered. Then he noticed his accuser, Pompin. He sat red faced and obviously scared. The man looked as if he had been crying for hours. Then from behind a pillar stepped a familiar face. The long red hair gave the man away as surely as his deep voice. "Crispian, lad, come and sit. We have much to discuss." called Arguyle MacFadden. -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	His Hired hand just got another mission or some thing from some Crispian. His friend Tobyas has gone, Achou thinks it is time for a mission of his own. â€œI do not think I need to tell him, his brother his here and it is one a short ride to Camelot. Btu Could you let Jashen know that I have left if he askedâ€ Achou asked the bar keep as he slid him a silver and a small note. â€œaye lilâ€™ one I can tell him and give â€˜em this if he askedâ€ The bar keep said placing both the coin and the note in one of his pockets â€œI shall return in a day, three at the most, just be sure he finds out, ByeYasâ€ and with that Achou let Cornwall. The ride north was uneventful, with only his thoughts to keep him company, The who point in this trip to the capital was to speak with the master Cabalist for some mission he wanted Achou do take care of. Not like he has the time for these little tasks. But it pays the guilds dues, and they are not that tedious just out of the way. His thoughts often wander from wandering what Tobyas was doing and where he went to what Crispian needed with Jashen. Ahouâ€™s only guess is that every thing had to do with the â€œladyâ€ Arcalan; if she can be called that; and some mess Crispian had gotten him self in to. I was shortly after noon when Achou arrived in Camelot. He had not spent much time in the city, but as a kid spent enough time to know his way around. Getting to the Master Cabalist was easy, far easier that he recall. But then with all the new merchants and the seemingly shrinking capital, that is not to be surprising. After a short talk with the cabalist, Achou needed a drink, walking to Mamaâ€™s for it was the best place in the city. Achou was mumbling something about being a farking massager boy, and had if it would not cover his dues, he would have just laughed at the quest. But his dues are due, and this will take but a ½ days of travel to take care of. â€œUlega, I need a whisky! And Emily would like a cognac!â€ -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The cleric looked up from his wine to see the hulking emerald shape lumber through the door. The short Saracen before it could only be Achou, aspiring Cabalist. Tobyas slid from his seat and made his way over to the former Guild mate, and constant hunting companion. "Master Achou, what good timing is your arrival. Join me at my table?" He indicated the worn table near the rear of the place and turned back to it, settling into his seat again. -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Emily, the sim was the first to go, Achou followed after grabbing he drinks. "Well, of the people I expected to find here, you were not one of them, but..." Achou had started to say "HiYas Toby! what brings you to the finest and funnest pub in all of Camelot?" setting the now three drinks down on the table and seemingly not to take a breath "I have come to be and Erron boy, sounds fun huh? but you have yet to tell me, what brings you to this fun place? I do like to now, also have you see the" achou pauses of a monent and lowers his voice quist a bit "...the Lady, Arcalan, Crispin or Jashen, or know whay I passed some horsed guards on the way here" After all that Achou leaned back and sipped is wiskey waitingh for a relpy ot few -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas sat back with a small smile. If he had thought the Cabalist was a bit squirrelly on the hunt, his endless stream of dialogue would only add to that impression now. He sipped again from the bitter cheap wine. "This place used to be sort of like home, before I found the church," he said quietly, making a sign of blessing. "In truth, Master Achou, I used to earn my keep on this street." He was completely unselfpossessed of the statement. "To your second question," he looked about and also lowered his voice, "I have not seen Jashen or Crispian since I left Cornwall for some time in prayer. However, I did hear that the Seneschal has been arrested, or at least is under warrant to the king." He smirked a wry smirk. "And I have people looking for Arcalan." His blue eyes went flat for a moment. "And I aim to find her." -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	â€œwell, I shall guess we will see the Crispian soon enough, but I must ask you propose with Arcalan. She does not matter to me in the least, but having been around your self, Jashen, and a few others for a while. One does tend to get curios about thingsâ€ pausing long enough for a sip â€œI am not sorry if I pry, as Emily needs to know thisâ€ Achou finish with a wink to the greenish simm standing right next to him with a Mug of Cognac. â€œone more thing, it is good to see you did not stay long on the street, as this place if full of Rouges, Vagabonds, and other not fun peopleâ€ with a huge smile he signaled for another round of drinks â€œbeside, I am but a lilâ€™ Saracen Cabbalist, I can harm fewâ€¦ so Tobyas, once of the street, now a man of the cloth, and a Sergeant of the league, please tell, meâ€¦ tell me a nice story, it will be funâ€ With that he took another sip of the whiskey. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas sat back, weighing this Saracen in his mind for a moment. Achou had been a good companion for some time now, hunting and learning, and drinking together. â€œTo be honest, I am not sure what I would do with Arcalan. However, she must be trusted to move about unobserved.â€ He glanced about. â€œI feel in my heart she is evil, my friend. And not because she is a cabalist. You have put a lie to that thought,â€ he lifted his goblet in salute, finishing the first and starting the new one that had just arrived. â€œA fun story, eh?â€ he smiled whimsically. â€œThe only tales that come to mind at the moment, friend, are poor tales of requited love and friends in trouble.â€ He tipped the goblet again. -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	â€œtales of requited love and friends in troubleâ€ looking thoughtfully in to the young priest eyes, â€œwell, that story does not sound fun at all, no it does, not like me see if I call tell a tail, a tail for two cities, one much more run down than the other, one that seems to be the life of the country. We can call the smaller oneâ€¦ Abredine, and the larger one Omedyre. With in these two cities we have to large and weather families.â€ â€œthese family have been feuding for some time now, and at some point in the past an evil elven mage had helped one become far more superior. The Omedyre family had this elven mage cast a spell of sorts on the fertile fields of Abredine, making them unable to grow any thing other than Turnips. Now, where that may not be all that bad,â€ Achou said pausing to take another sip â€œ it does not alow for much growth. Think, would you want to go to the capital of turnipia?â€ Achou smirk â€œ I did not think so.â€ â€œany way, I digressâ€ taking another sip â€œyou know, after three of these I tend to for get my stories,a dn there was going to be a pointâ€¦ but let us not talk of these things, tell me young Brit. Hows does one go from the streets, to Crispian to the church? I do care to hear that, how Lilâ€™ Toby picking pockets, becomes a member of the Church?â€ â€œEmily, please get us some moreâ€ and with a flick of the wrist, The Simm, walks over to the bare area â€œTobyas, I know you have known me only a short while, however, I do not want to see you get hurt to badly, a little is good for youâ€ with a laugh, Achou start on the new drink Emily brought back yo him, and hands Tobyas a new whine -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Dâ€™Vena considered her new blond plaything. The last was gasping the end of his life out now, and she had been amused with him. But this toy, this Aziâ€¦ â€œSo, you are his little bolster of strength, eh?â€ she muttered, the laughs interrupting about every third word. â€œNow, you are here,â€ her eyes grew distant, â€œbut I know not how, just that it had to do with my Grimoir.â€ Her fingers sketched a line on Aziâ€™s face. â€œAh, I sense that you have been a vessel of Will before,â€ she said with a low cackle. â€œSo, some channels might be open,â€ she said with her eyes holding closer to Azi. â€œNow, allow me to see what can be done to,â€ she paused, a grin playing her lips, â€œhelp you help me!â€ The work of tampering with a mind can be subtle, but Dâ€™Vena was far past her old subtleties. So much had been shattered in the months of her reduction. Her work was swift and brutal, setting compulsions and drivers in place, enough to make that little blond man miserable. In the end, the dual laughter was eerie, and Aziâ€™s own eager look as she stepped from the hidden house would have chilled Crispian to the bone. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas lifted his wine, taking a drink. God, how he hated cheap wine now that he had been exposed to better. â€œA young Toby picking pockets?â€ He smiled. â€œNo, I never did that.â€ He paused, then decided to tell a bit of it all. â€œMy father was a noble man, made not born. He was given lands in Dartmoor that now the ponies over run. It was once beautiful. We had grapes and other small crops we grew, and a house that is now a shell for giants.â€ He could see the house perfectly. â€œAs my parents got older, my mother died, and then my father turned to drink.â€ He hoisted his own goblet. â€œA lot of drink. Eventually, he lost it all. The Land, the house, and finally, the son,â€ he managed a grim smirk. â€œSo,â€ he continued, â€œat twelve, I found myself a possession of a Cornwall leader. He was kind enough I suppose, for he did not kill me, or use me badly. He passed me along later to the owner of the Mermaid, may he rest in hell.â€ He swallowed, checking his own anger and fear. â€œHe used magicks to keep us all in check at first, until he could figure out your vice, and turn it against you.â€ Tobyas looked deep into the emptying goblet. He seemed reluctant to press on. â€œMy vice was, or is really, a desire to,â€ he paused, having never really said it aloud, â€œbe with a man, as with a woman as the Good Book would phrase it. And thus did I start to pay my fatherâ€™s debt off to the trader in human miseries. Oh, I was not alone in my wants, I can tell you. There are more than some think here in fair Camelot, and from elsewhere. â€œThus is was that Crispian found me, some weeks ago. He paid his coin like any other man, and then we were together that night.â€ He almost smiled at the memory, but too much pain was happening now. â€œIn the morning, Crispian whom I knew not other than a customer, left me a handsome sum of gold and instructions as to how to find Tannir. So, I bought my freedom and left that place. â€œBut what does a veteran of that trade do after it is over? I was free, for the first time in years, and could make a life for myself.â€ He smiled finally. â€œBecause of a young Lord with a kind heart, for which I love him. But the Church called to me, and there I have made my new life, my new start.â€ He examined the table for a bit. â€œAnd now, I have the League, I have some good friends, and I still have the Church. Lord Crispianâ€™s role beyond this mess right now is, well, undecided,â€ he fell quiet. â€œBut my friend, I must check on some information now, if I may have your leave?â€ -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	"yep yep, you may go check on a few thing, these drinks have been a fun time I would say, no?" almost gleefully Achou jumped from his chair "Thank you my friend this has answered a lot of my questions, about thing only thing it did not is how one from the street would be so free with the truth of the stories. But that does not matter, â€˜tis done now, I have no worries of my tong, it quits safe in my quite month, as with Emilyâ€™s. But as you need to go find out something, I must go be a message boy the Master Cabalist.â€ As he headed out the door, he looked back one last time, almost a sad smile on his face that turned to a huge grin â€œByeYas Toby! Send word to me if you can when you need me, or I shall be forcer to do some thing like you have done here!â€ and with that he and the simm were gone -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas watched the little Saracen depart, with his hulking mass of rock defender. He laughed a bit. How does one get so comfortable with the truth? Something he would have to think about, when time allowed. He slipped out the back door and pulled his plain cloak around him. Like a wraith, he slid down long familiar paths, not even lifting his hem to clear it of piles of refuse. If there was anywhere he had called home, no matter how unpleasant, these alleys and streets would be it. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azaeli squinted into the harsh sunlight as she stepped outside into Lyonesse. Her thoughts were a jumble, her mind clouded with unpleasantness. Her bare feet crunched on dry leaves and twigs as she made her way northeast. Not really ever having been in Lyonesse before, she didn't know her way, but something pulled her in that direction, and so she walked. Her light sleeping tunic and under-leggings didn't do much to sheild her from the mid-morning breeze, but that didn't seem to bother her. Two thoughts ran through her mind: Get to Cornwall, then, find Crispian. She found the road to Cornwall quickly, suprised and yet not suprised at the ease at which she did so. It was a long walk, and by mid-afternoon she had gotten back to the little station and into her rented room. Unclear, no, unholy thoughts drifted through her mind as she slowly strapped on her armor and fastened her cloak around her neck. Laughter rang through her head again, so loud that she dropped to her knees and prayed fervently until it stopped. She packed her few belongings, shoving the tome and parchment into her packs, and strode down the stairs to the bar. "Wine. Red." She slapped a coin onto the bar and glared at the barkeep, who raised an eyebrow. Azi had patronized this inn long enough for him to know that the young miss never drank anything but tea, but he set down a wooden goblet and filled it up anyway. "E'erythin alrigh' miss?" He asked cautiously,wondering at the obvious change in the young paladin's usual kind and soft nature. "Fine." Azi winced inwardly at her own harshness and drank deeply, feeling the rich warmth of the drink fill her. The barkeep nodded sheepishly and turned his back to fill the mug of a friar who was rapping it impatiently on the bar beside her. No wonder why Crispian always had a tankard closeby..she thought to herself as she drained her goblet. The effect was soothing at the least, and it did clear her thoughts a bit. But the hour was growing late, and she still had to seek out the Seneschal... -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian looked firs at the king, then to his friend Arguyle. He felt a bit sheepish still being in such company, but with his life in the balance, what could he do? He gave a small shrug and turned to the highlander, careful to keep hands clear of weapons. "Lord General, what questions can I answer for you?" -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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CarringtonSony Posts: 5,819 Registered: Apr 5, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 5,583 User ID: 665,238	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump! -----signature----- Mali principii malus finus. Don't open it.
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi stormed into the League hall and looked around. It was practically empty, save for one or two members lounging before the hearth. "Where's lord Crispian?" She demanded harshly. "I have not seen him yet today, m'lady," Mithralin answered quietly, after waiting a moment for someone else to answer. Azi scanned the hall briefly and huffed to herself, turning on her heels and storming out the door. Her mind raced. If not there, Crispian would be at the forge, or hunting. Shrill laughter rang in her head as she passed the church and reached the forge. A quick questioning of those working hard at thier crafts brought a few raised eyebrows but no answers. Azi returned to the League Guild hall to find Tobyas sitting quietly in a corner, reading from a prayerbook. "Have you seen Lord Crispian, Tobyas?" She demanded again, coming to stand in front of him. "I have not," he answered quietly, keeping his eyes on his reading, "but I heard he had been hunting with the Lord High General MacFadden as of late." "The pig farmer?" she spat. Tobyas raised his eyes from his book and met hers with a stern look. "He is a great paladin of the church, miss, and a noble fighter. You should show him respect." Azi scoffed, then laughed out loud. "I wonder how one such as yourself could fairly judge who is noble and who is not!" She said loudly enough for all to hear. The words struck him like a blow, and he slumped slightly in his chair, turning his eyes back to his little book. A few heads turned thier way, but she brushed them off and threw her weary body into a high-backed chair, glaring to herself. Deep inside she felt remorse at her harshness, but those feelings were barely strong enough to notice. She brooded,waiting motionlessly in the chair. Crispian would show up eventually. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/lil bump -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	OOC - not feeling in good form today, have a killer headache and all, so it may be a bit for a story post. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/pout -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas glanced up from his reading, blue eyes gone cold. â€œThe circumstances of my life have led me to low station,â€ he said in a low voice, â€œbut forget not that I was born noble, Lady Azi.â€ He continued to look at her even as she sat and seemed absorbed in the mundane actions that went on around her. He had spent much of the day this far hearing of the going ons in the city and now was certain there was much more happening than he had thought of before. The history of it all was startling to him. Blind Jacob had told him the tale of the day the Kingâ€™s men had marched out in force. And then the great fire, and Dâ€™Vena returning, chained and bound. He wondered about some of the other names in the story he was told. Carrington, Moryan, Ravyin, Mithiel, so many he had not heard before. And yet now, they all seemed tied to this long list of sordid events. Azi sighed from her seat. â€œAgain, Tobyas, I must find Crispian,â€ she said, a slight hint of desperation in her voice. Tobyas turned quite blunting toward his missal. â€œPerhaps you can speak to Lord MacFadden, if he is about. I do not know truly.â€ He wondered why she was pursuing this so, and was so agitated. It was not normal for Azi to act so. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<triple pout> <<Hope ya feel better Cris...I get to have a root canal today. Yippee.>> -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump til later - editting still -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azaeli leaned forward at the sound of heavy plated boots approaching the guild hall. A young paladin stomped past in the street. Azi swore under her breath and dropped back in the chair, her glare darkening even further. ((hurry up!! hehe)) -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((lap top died on the way home!)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((Noo!)) -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen arrived at the Guild Hall quite perplexed. He had thrown every resource he could master into the search for information about was able to find out a few things. First and foremost, he now knew for certain that Crispian WAS in Camelot when Pompin was assaulted. However, most people placed him at Ye Mug most of the night. He had also found out that Coewyr and Arcalan had been around for the Guard call regarding the assault, and Ceowyr had resurrected Pompin. That bothered him greatly. The two seemed to move too much in unison. And he really did not favor any cleric who would spend time with one such as Arcalan. There was just something wrong with that, he felt in his gut. He was pleased to see so many about the League hall as he entered, for he was in sore need of his family-of-choice just now. Word had come to him that Crispian had passed into the city in the custody of the King's Own Guard. "Hail, League!" he called as he crossed the threshold. The chorus of replies was led by Nydori, then Mithralin, and Ceomyr, brother to the cleric Ceowyr. Azaeli looked at him coolly. "Jashen," she said with a nod. "How are we all?" he asked as he measured out a tankard of ale. "Ceomyr! How are you doing?" He had not seen the younger Kelson brother in some days. Iphemiar called, "'Ali tae ye Jashen!" Ceomyr looked up from the minor mending work he was doing to his armor. "Doing quite well, at the moment. 'Tis a shame, though, that we longer have access to Darkness Falls," he said, speaking of the demonic caverns that opened into all three realm, but were not always accessible to all. Azaeli stood and met Jashen part way into the chamber. "Jashen," she asked a bit harshly, "where is your brother?" He smiled at her. He had heard of her odd return to the merchant outpost in Cornwall ealier, and her downing wine rather expertly. He also was a bit concerned about the Tome. "Hail, Azaeli!" he replied as he sat on the edge of a table. "I think he is visiting with the king," he said with a smirk. Then his face got serious. "You left Cornwall quickly earlier." He watched her face closely. His long association with her would help him notice anything odd about her. She favored him with a frosty glare. "That I did," she said, but seemed to not know what to say next. "I heard," he continued, one leg swinging under the edge of the table, "ye came back in but your night shirt." He could not help but smirk. Azi drew herself up in anger. "So what of it?" she snapped at him. This little sell-sword of a boy did not know the full foe that he faced and she would not be toyed with! Jashen's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Nothing." He shrugged. "Just seemed a bit, uh, immodest of you is all." He was not sure how he should be reading this. Azi's head rolled back as she let out a bark-like laugh. "Immodest?" she said. "I'll bet you wish you were there to have a glimpse, don't you?" She placed her hands on her hips and struck a bold stance. Jashen grinned, keeping close check on the emotions he really felt, for he suddenly felt he should be guarded with Azi. "Care to get immodest together sometime, Azi?" he said. He let his eyes roll down her body. Azi scoffed, turning her head away. "With you?" she asked, a note of disdain in her voice. Jashen continued to act bemused. "Why not?" he said, leaning toward Azi now that they were facing each other again. It was her turn to eye the mercenary over. Her liquid blue eyes swept down his lean form and images of Crispian came unbidden to her mind. She had seen him in a most immodest moment. The dingy basement, Crispian naked, bruised, battered. A certain thrill rushed through her at the thought. A deep shudder ran through Azi as she felt the near frenzy of pleasure that suddenly washed through her. She knew it was D'Vena tapping into those images and playing them out. It was revolting to Azi the way she herself felt the pleasure that D'Vena was feeling from seeing the young, proud lord so debased and misused. She reveled in the way he had pled and groveled. The weak voice he used, so childlike and needy. The excited joy at how he had pled, clinging for support and needing the approval of another. A cruel laugh filled Azi's head as D'Vena drank in the experience, and then nudged a response from Azi. "Of the two of you, Jashen," she said almost mockingly, "I'd say yes to the elder first, you know." Her lips curved in a cruel sneer at him, Jashen shrugged. "Well," he countered, letting a leer fill his voice as well as his face, "since he is not here?" he looked around the hall with a bland expression on his face. Azi's face clouded over and her expression hardened. This boy was toying with her! How dare he! "And where IS he?" she asked again. Her ire was getting raised and fed by D'Vena, she knew and yet she was helpless to stop it. If only she could find some way to fight back. Jashen ran a hand over his chin as if in thought, wondering what Azi had thought he meant earlier when he had said that Cris was visiting with the King. Surely, she could not think that Crispian would really go to the Palace of Constantine for some social visit. "Uh, I think he was arrested," he said sarcasticly. Tinowan entered the hall at that moment in a great swirl of robes. The sorcerer had a flare for style in making an entry. "Aye," he said with a note of mirth, "but the charge on me was overturned on a technicality!" he finished with a laugh. Jasehn could not help but smile at the distraction. "Hail Brother Tinowan!" he said as he rose, for some happy business could be attended to. "Have you heard the good news?" He intentionally turned his back on Azi in a near dismissive fashion. Tinowan bowed to the assembly. "And a hearty good evening to all as well!" He grinned impishly at Jashen. "I love coming in on the middle of a conversation!" He settled himself onto a high stool with his robes draped about. Others in the hall greeted him. "Nay, brother, I have not and I could use some!" He sat back and watched the younger Pontiff brother, who was mounting the single step dias at the far end of the chamber. "Well then," Jashen said, as a smile danced on his face, "take a knee brother!" Tinowan was distracted by the arrival of Heathyr, a young friar who had joined the League but that day. "Ahhh!" he purred out. "Heathyr, you decided to join our Merry Band!" He favored her with a wide, genuine smile. It was exactly this kind of warmth that Jashen loved about the League. Heathyr smiled back at Tino. "Iphemiar got me drunk and got me to sign before I sobered up!" She laughed. Azaeli wanted, no needed, to get back to her gathering of information to find Crispian. â€œWhat is this news, Jashen?â€ she asked in a very high-handed manner. â€œI am on the edge of my seat,â€ she finished with a heavy false enthusiasm. Jashen looked over the League members laughing and sharing their company in the hall. He felt a slight pang of guilt for having to act in Crispianâ€™s stead. â€œNow, then, if I have your attentions, please.â€ His voice carried well in the small room. Brother Tinowan!â€ he called the attention of the sorcerer again. â€œCharges grave and serious have been leveled on you.â€ The formula, long set in place for the League, was odd this day of all, when some many serious charges had been leveled at Crispian. Jashen noticed Bashir entering the hall,. â€œAh, Sir Bashir, join me up here,â€ he said, indicating a spot at his side. As he paused for the other knight of the League to join him, he looked over the faces of Heathyr, Iphemiar, Mithralin, Nydori, Ceomyr, Tobyas, and lastly Azaeli. Some of them had undergone knighthood within the League already. Aziâ€™s came from the Guardians of Albion, recieved at Kerriannâ€™s hand before she had joined the League. â€œIt is the judgement of the Seneschals,â€ he said, directing his attention back to Tinowan, â€œthat ye be made knight.â€ He drew his sword, and raised it before him. The lights of the hall caught on the blade. â€œTinowan, Sorcerer of the Realm, I hereby bestow upon thee the charge of Knighthood, and vest you with these symbols of your new rank.â€ He reached behind him, taking up a length of pure white leather. â€œThis belt, white as a sign of purity,â€ he next handed spurs to Bashir, who fastened them to Tinowanâ€™s fine cloth boots. â€œThese spurs, as sign of your mastery in battle,â€ and lastly, he pulled forth a hat, â€œand this hat, which needs reblocking.â€ The hat, which had started out as a joke on Crispianâ€™s part, have been part of many knighting ceremonies within the League. Azaeli even managed a real smile at the occasion, embracing Tinowan warmly. â€œCongratulations,â€ she told him, and Jashen thought it was the first honest statement she had made to anyone so far this night. Iphemiar was smiling a broad smile as he slapped Tinowan on the back. â€œOch! Yer in trouble nae, lad,â€ he laughed greatly. â€œCongratulations!â€ His hand came down on Tinowanâ€™s shoulder hard enough to make the man wince a bit, but he too sported a large smile. Nydori called out a loud â€œHuzzah!â€ and Mithralin was positvely aglow. Tinowan, shaking his head at it all, raised a hand for quiet. â€œTis rare that one finds being guilty an honor, but this be one of the times!â€ Guythus, having just returned from commanding a raid on the isolated keep at Thidranki, called from the back of the Hall â€œVery well done! Congratulations!â€ His eyes crinckled as he smiled. He hoped that soon he too could cliam Knighthood within the League as an honor, but for now, he was happy to command an occasional force, and of course, to scout. Iphemiar, examining the battered hat that Crispian had found somewhere, scowled. â€œA good try, oâ€™er all, but I dinnae kin why all our â€˜ats are broken,â€ he said, a grin threatening to break his scowl. â€œYe been usinâ€™ thâ€™ cheap tailor again Jashen?â€ he asked with a grin. Tinowan was still quite taken aback by it all. â€œI accept this honor,â€ he said with a grave expression, â€œever mindful of my shortcomings.â€ He bowed to all there assembled. No longer able to forestall it, he turned back to Azi. â€œNow, you had questions of my brother?â€ Jashen asked her, again resuming his seat. His left hand was close to the hilt of his dagger, just in case. There was something about Azi that was setting him on edge. He could not pin it down for sure, but he knew in his heart that it had something to do with he tome that had shown up so mysteriously at Cornwall. Azaeil settled on a chair near to him, but not too close for she too was on edge. â€œHe is in jail, Jashen?â€ she asked, quite serious now that she knew she had his attention. The Mistress was most eager to find out news, and Azi felt herself filled with a strange eagerness to please her. Jashen nodded slowly. â€œAye, he was seized this afternoon at Cornwall.â€ He could still see he guards marching Crispian out like he was a common thug almost. But they had let him retain his honor, and accepted the word of his bound. Azi felt her own emotions win out for the moment. She was not a total pawn, as she learned during her own trials and problems. â€œI cannot believe it,â€ she whispered. But she could feel the thrill of it from Dâ€™Vena. She loathed but could not stop the surge of joy she fel. Jashen looked away, reading the emotion as it played out through Aziâ€™s eyes. He could not believe the woman he knew and had been in the company of so often could be so twisted now. But by who was his question. â€œNeither could I,â€ he said quietly. He felt torn at all that he now knew was happening. There had been much that he had not known until today, and much he could not wrap his mind around. And to find out that, despite his beliefs, Arcalan was not really tied to Dâ€™Vena, according to those who would know. â€œSo, now he is in custody?â€ she asked quietly. As Jashen nodded and barely whispered an â€˜ayeâ€™, she pressed on. â€œSo what will happen next?â€ she asked, watching the mercenary to see who he reacted. Jashen gave a grim shrug. â€œA trial I imagine,â€ he said, knowing full well that Azi had to realize that. She shook her head again. â€œPoor Crispian,â€ she said, seeming to be genuine in her concern. â€œAye,â€ Jashen said, his heart welling in fear. â€œIt could be his death, or at least his titles and rank.â€ He again watched her closely, feeling that she would do something to tip her motives, which seemed so conflicted. Aza struggled for control for a moment, almost seeming to laugh, or perhaps it was almost gasp. â€œI would speak with you alone when we can,â€ she said quite seriously. Jashen nodded, rising. â€œExcuse me friends, for I must speak with Azi alone.â€ And they exited the hall. st his titles and rank" -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arcalan stormed up and down in secret, beneath the streets of Camelot. Her mind boiled with frustrations, not least of which was the idea that Jashen would force her to put a Bore Spirit through his brain before he drove her mad. Countless questions were asked in the shadow quarter, stirring up nests of vipers all over the place. Jashen spent gold freely in an attempt to weed her out, but he'd ended up throwing several of her dealings into chaos. Two men had already died from an overdose of curiosity in the wrong bar. For all her ire she really didn't want to have to kill that Merc, and idly she wondered why that was. The lad was rude, arrogant and dowright foolish to confront her power, for she now far outstriped him. His cheeky, handsome face haunted her somewhat. Well, not handsome exactly.. more sort of.. bah! He was indeed driving her mad. Furthermore "little" Azi had taken up D'Vena's spellbook and seemingly rode back to Cammelot with it. That foul witch D'Vena was seriously slipping if she let a book like that go unwarded, and Arcalan cerdited Azi's former scholarly learnings very little. Had it been a mistake to deliver that into her hands? At least Crispian was arrested. There things went well. She'd already made sure that people talking about the madness of Crispian got hard stares and even threats, thus ensuring that the rumours spread like wildfire. She especially liked the one about him being a pawn of Mirashta who controlled a secret wizard guild in Camelot. WHo thinks these things up? Fantastic stuff, it would bring that whole family into ill repute. Also Phalos the League Sorceror was rumoured to be using his powers and bribes to free Crispian no questions asked. Yes, all was goign well in that direction. Now what would unfold from Jashen's meddlings? She sat back and waited for the infiltraitors to pour back in. As she sat waiting she heard a /BUMP from upsatirs -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	\Early morning bump -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Page three? Oh, no no no. /bump -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	As he and Azi made their way to Ye Mug, Jashen wondered what she was up to. The swing in emotion over the possibility of trial, and its outcome, concerned him. He found them a cozy spot near the rear of the tavern and ordered an ale, taking a seat with his back to the wall, so that he could observe the door. He was taking no chances right now. â€œSo,â€ he started quietly as the drinks were brought. â€œWhatever did you wish to talk to me about? Azi considered him dispassionately. Her expression reminded him of a cat considering a mouse for a moment. Then, she smiled tightly, not a pleasant expression at all. â€œI think you can guess,â€ she said with a raise of her eyebrows. â€œI didnâ€™t wish to say these things in front of everyone else.â€ He considered her for a moment and shrugged as he settled back against his seat. â€œI have no idea.â€ He thought the playing into her want for information might give him some small edge here, and the way she had been acting, he wanted every edge that he could get. Too many things were going on that he wanted to find out more of. Azi was a possible source for more information that he had not yet been exposed to. He quickly reminded himself of all that had come to light this day, and some of the events. A couple of younger inflitrators, not of the League, had turned up dead. There was still no word of Tannir, other than his departure, which it seemed plenty of people knew about. And lately, there was someone else asking around, in a fashion that Jashen found more than novel. The unthought of sources seemed to be being sought out. He wondered what time of information they provided. Azi grinned a sly grin at him. By the Almgihty, he admired her look, and generally her poise and nature. But this was so unlike the Azi he was used to. When you fight next to someone as often as they had since she became a paladin, you get a sense of them and what they are about. It was true that the blood of battle was a bound and hard to shatter, or turn aside. As he looked at her, he thought of the motto of the League. â€œFor any who fight with me this day, is my brother!â€ He pulled himself back to the present matter with a slight mental effort. â€œOh, be honest, Jashen,â€ Azi was saying. She peered intently at him, and he knew that she too was watching for something. He sighed and gave her a crooked half-grin. â€œThen what, Azi?â€ he asked in as disarming a fashion as he could imagine. There was a small part of his mind that wished Crispian was there, hidden in the room to watch his back, as he had done for his twin. But such was not the course of events these past days, and Jashen suddenly felt very alone against all that was facing him. â€œYou stand to gain from this, donâ€™t you?â€ Her tone was casual, almost as if she were discussing armor, or a new blade. â€œIf Crispian goes to trial, surely you succeed him. His downfall would be your moment to come out from behind being the younger brother of a legend.â€ Jashen shook his head. â€œI donâ€™t want it to come to that.â€ He could not believe that Azi was thinking on these lines. Surely there was something wrong beyond her odd behavior here. â€œThen you shall be respected over him, as you have always wanted.â€ She continued, as if he had not spoke at all. â€œWonâ€™t you?â€ Her eyes did not leave his, holding him fast to her. He noticed a kind of look to them that he could not place at first. He found his anger rising at what she was insinuating. He did not wish to gain in this way, although it seemed a natural conclusion for one to draw, that he would succeed Crispian in the office of Seneschal. He shook his head. â€œI would not take his Titles, Azi!â€ He could not keep the look of offense coming to his face, for he felt very slighted by her words. She know him to be one who did not seek honors, even to the point of not leading hunts, but always letting them be at the discretion of Achou. She smirked, a cold expression on her face. â€œYou say that now,â€ she said as her eyes flicked over him. â€œBut would you truly deny them, if they were offered freely?â€ Her voice was silken, smooth, but odd. More like Mirashtaâ€™s tenor and pace than Aziâ€™s. â€œYES!â€ he snapped, then lowered his voice as he looked about. He did not want to draw attention to them here. It had become harder to be unobserved in the city. â€œI would refuse.â€ He almost glared at her, but kept his gaze soft just short of it. â€œThe Azi I knew and hunted with would not ask such!â€ He could not keep the pain from his voice, so great was his hurt at what she put forward in this fashion. To take Crispianâ€™s titles was wrong, although he would serve if pressed. Azi thought for a moment as she sipped at her wine. A mixed look of unease and satisfaction came over her face as the cool red wine swirled on her tongue. A young vintage, she thought, and not as sweet as Elven wine. Corrath kept a better wine, she thought smugly. â€œJashen,â€ she started mildly, â€œhave you proof that it was not you,â€ she inclined her head, â€œwho murdered those men? She looked at her goblet as she finished. That question would sting the mercenary, she knew. Jashenâ€™s mouth opened in surprise for a moment, not even believing where Aziâ€™s line of thought had just gone. How dare she ask such a thing! He was no infiltrator! He could not even get out the proper response. â€œNo, Azi,â€ he recoiled from her. He just could not follow. â€œI would not take his titles! He is my BROTHER!â€ His mild fell back at the idea of killing to gain. Azi held up her slender hand. â€œYou are not listening to me, friend.â€ Again, the wine goblet rose to her lips. She closed her eyes as she drank from it. Other wines came to mind. Reds in Hibernia, a sweet wine brought by a young man unexpectedly to her manor house. Jashen squared himself opposite her. â€œThen state your case,â€ he said evenly, thinking of how often Crispian had done almost the same thing. Temper in check, reason the matter through, he reminded himself. Auntie Mir had always said his temper was bad, and now would not be a good time to prove her right. Azaeli thought for a moment of what tack to take. What barb would put this young, arrogant mercenary on edge. â€œYou have much love for your brother, do you not?â€ she asked, finishing the first wine. ends, "you have much love for you brother, do you not?" Jashen did not change expression in the least. â€œI do indeed. I would offer my life for his,â€ he said, taking a drink from his ale and hoping that such would not be needed in this instance. â€œDo you know such love?â€ he asked, knowing that they were sparring to see who would offer what. This was not Azi, he felt certain of that. Azi knew how much the twins meant to each other, perhaps as much as a non-twin could. Aziâ€™s face contorted for a moment. She felt Dâ€™Venaâ€™s presence recoil at the very idea of loving someone. Azi tried to call up images of her love for Ascot, of her parents. She recalled her motherâ€™s vialant death, Tobyasâ€™s quiet pain that night in the cloister garden. She almost felt a moment where she could speak, and then those cruel, wicked eyes filled her brain for a moment. She shook her head, not wanting to, and the visions cleared. â€œDo not distract me with questions!â€ she snapped. â€œYou asked me to plead my case!â€ Her Dâ€™Vena awareness knew that she had to keep control. SHE had to drive the course of this. Jashen leaned forward. â€œBut do you?â€ His gray eyes bored into hers. She almost felt like Dâ€™Vena and Jashen were going to vie for control. If only she could DO something. â€œWould you offer your life for Ascotâ€™s?â€ He held her with his eyes. â€œRight NOW!â€ he snapped, low yet harsh. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and Aziâ€™s own memories of her dear Ascot lying at the Academy, stone slowly consuming his flesh. And the dagger that Corroth expected her to use on him. â€œYou know I would,â€ she said in a much subdued voice. He grabbed her hand, pulling her closer to him. â€œWould you?â€ he hissed into her face. â€œRight now?â€ He could see the struggle she was having, though he knew not the nature of it. Azi turned her head away, tears on her cheeks. â€œYes!â€ she gasped. â€œI would!â€ The pain she felt was hers to own, and she seized on it. It was a pain Dâ€™Vena did not want to touch. She could sense that. She did not try to stem her tears. â€œYou know I would,â€ she whispered, choking on the emotions as she felt the battle pitch in her mind. Jashen did not relent. He grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face hi, â€œAscot, Turning to Stone. WOULD YOU?â€ he near spat at her. He could tell something was going on inside her, and he hoped he was gambling correctly. â€œStop!â€ Azi cried, pulling herself free. â€œStop!â€ Jashen let her go, but still kept his stony gaze on her. â€œHe is my brother,â€ he hissed. â€œWould I do aught for him?â€ She turned away from his gaze a moment, stealing a slight bit of control. â€œDo you care for him, Azi?â€ he asked, misreading her. â€œOr is there else driving you?â€ He saw a look he could not fathom on her face for a second, and thought she would ploy him somehow. â€œI am Shadow Born, forget you NOT lady!â€ he cautioned her. He was having little trouble now seeing Azi as potential enemy, although that did cause a pain to well from deep inside of him. Azi buried her face in her hands, pulling back from Jashen. The battle she was waging inside caused her real pain and the questions he was throwing at her was causing a different pain altogether. â€œJashen, Jashen,â€ she gasped, â€œwhat on earth is happening?â€ Her sobs were bitter and racking. Jashen leaned back. He was hating himself for doing this to Azi, but he saw no other course of action open to him. He feared that somehow that tome had compromised her. He had grown up around magic and seen the Forbidden Works of Mirashtaâ€™s teacher. â€œYou tell me,â€ he said quietly. â€œWho spoke to you this morn?â€ He watched her closely, saw her pull back for a second in shock or surprise. â€œWHO?â€ he snapped, quickly and harshly. Azi shook, her shoulders heaving. Her voice dropped to a bare whisper. â€œI donâ€™t remember,â€ she said quietly, raising her head to meet Jashenâ€™s gaze, and seeing no warmth there. â€œI donâ€™t remember,â€ she repeated. â€œBut who else could it have been? A charred tome? Lyn Barfog?â€ She could not bring herself to say the name, but hoped that Jashen would for her. Her eyes closed again as she fought for a bit more control. She had managed some with Corroth, why was Dâ€™Vena so much harder to resist? Jashen pulled her around to his side of the closure, settling her near to him. â€œDâ€™Vena?â€ he whispered to her. He could feel her tense at the name. He controlled his own want to shudder, knowing that she was a foe to be defeated first, so that Arcalan could be focused on. The choices were grim to his liking, but he knew in his heart that the Sorceress was the one that had to be beaten first so that a focused effort could be made on the new problem, the upstart cabalist who seemed bent on tearing the League apart for her own goals. Azi looked at him, nodding slow, and mouthed the name, â€œDâ€™Vena.â€ Her delicate lips curled as she said it in a display of distaste. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable. Jashen shook his head. â€œThink you that she is idle all this time?â€ he said. He found it hard to believe that one so possessed of skills as Azi could underestimate a foe, but it did seem to be the case. â€œSilly girl,â€ he snarled, not able to keep his anger in check on this note. â€œ Azi looked stunned, her margin of self-control suddenly shaken. Was Jashen too in her grips? â€œYou too? NO!â€ she gasped, thinking the worst. â€œI KNOW she is active,â€ he said. â€œThink that I have not FELT what Cris has?â€ he asked harshly. By the Almighty, so few seemed to grasp the type of bound between one twin and the other. â€œOf course,â€ Azi nearly moaned, â€œas have I!â€ She seized on the moment, hoping to be able to hold it like a line thrown to a drowning man. Jashen grabbed her wrists, turning her full to face him. â€œDo you think so?â€ he asked without any pity or understanding in his voice. â€œWhen did you cry for him last, Azi?â€ His eyes bored into hers unrelentingly. â€œWHEN?â€ he asked again, harshly. Azi shook her head, trying to pull back from his grip. â€œWhat do you mean, Jashen?â€ she asked in pure misery. He held her eyes, even as tears threatened his own. â€œI cry for him nightly,â€ he said quietly, but with a fierceness, â€œand feel his pain as no other.â€ His jaw muscles danced as he clenched down. â€œDo you, Miss Azi?â€ His eyes wavered from one of hers to the other in the intensity of his examination. Azi swallowed. â€œI pray for him more often than that,â€ she said. A part of her was fixed on what he was saying, trying to keep it her focus. She struggled, feeling the will of Dâ€™Vena bent full to her now, all other distractions set aside in the far off safeness of her hold. The duel scrutiny she was under, from Jashen before her and Dâ€™Vena within, was torment to her soul. â€œAnd yes, I cry, Jashen. Yes, I doâ€ she said. Jashen released her wrists, moving slightly away, though he remained close. â€œI am sorry, Azi,â€ he said into the small space between them. â€œBut on this, none can be closer to him than I.â€ Dâ€™Vena surged into the move away from proximity. It was a mistake, Azi felt, as soon as Jashen had let go of her. A slight smirk rose to her face, and she hated herself for it. â€œOh yes,â€ she purred out. â€œI know that, Jashen.â€ Dâ€™Vena knew how close the two were, and had wanted an opening like this for some time. Her reaction renewed his anger at the entire situation, and at Azi right now. â€œDo you?â€ he asked harshly. He wished he could tell what was going on inside her, but in that he was unskilled. â€œREALLY?â€ he asked, his voice increasing in volume unintetionally. Azi looked around them, seeing that no others had noticed. â€œLower your voice,â€ she said in a harsh whisper. â€œI do.â€ She asserted her answer to him. Jashen leaned toward her again. â€œHe is MY brother,â€ he reminded her curtly. Her eyebrows rose toward her graceful hairline. â€œYes? And?â€ she asked with a haughtiness so not Azi that Jashen almost gaped at her. She leaned away, looking at him quite imperiosly. Azi shreiked in her mind! She would never treat Jashen so, if she could control it. He laughed, summoning up his resolve. Azi was not acting right, and regardless of what it cost him personally, he was going to push her until she cracked or started to act right. â€œAnd you,â€ he said very quietly, â€œare just a girl.â€ He tried to pack as much condescension as he could into every word. She tried to look injured. That was not an expression that Dâ€™Vena herself had ever mastered and the result was rather forced. â€œAre you saying,â€ she said in a feigned injured voice, â€œthat you are threatened by me? Little Azi?â€ She really was putting it on good, Jashen had to admit. But he was also unmoved. He grinned rather coldly. â€œNo,â€ he said in a dismissive tone. â€œWith a good blade, you would be no threat at all.â€ He hated himself the moment the words were out of his mouth, but he held the reaction in check. It was agony to act like this toward Azi for him. She looked at him blankly. â€œWith a good blade, I certainly would,â€ she said. Again, he leaned into her. â€œI did not mean you had the blade, Azi,â€ he said as coldly as he could. His heart was aching as he did so. A strange thought had just occurred to him. He loved her. With a contemptuous toss of her head, she snapped, â€œI know. You meant that had them.â€ â€œDid you now?â€ he asked, wanting to make certain he had driven this point home. For the woman he saw before him now was not the Azi he knew, the Azi he loved. Something had been twisted and disordered in her. He felt more wretched than he ever had before. She shrugged, something she did quite well, he noted. â€œYou threatened me,â€ she said mildly, as if they were discussing weather, â€œand I retorted.â€ He sat back, calmly observing this new being, this Azi-Not-Azi. What great power some had, and how greatly some abused it. He smiled coldly. â€œYou are not so dumb after all.â€ Azi lifted her cup to sip from it. â€œI was a wizard, or have you forgotten?â€ She had such a high handed look on her face. Jashen had never thought to see Azi acting arrogently. It further fed his feeling that something was dreadful wrong with her at this moment, far beyond a mere being out of sorts. He considered her from a moment. â€œHow could I?â€ He allowed his hurt and pain to come into his voice. The options for keeping Azi off balance were running low. Her face became smug and snide. â€œIndeed. How could you forget?â€ She tried to stop herself, but the compulsion drove on. â€œYou thought I had gone for good,â€ she threw the words like they were a weapon. â€œAnd that you had the full attention of your brother once again.â€ She paused, looking at him with an expression of pure victory. â€œAnd then, I returned.â€ Somehow, she filled the words with a sensuality, a haughtiness of one who has always returned, and always won. Jashen smirked at her. â€œNot even Toby would come between us,â€ he said, allowing the name of Crispianâ€™s sometimes lover to hang for a moment. If Dâ€™Vena was behind this, let her taste a bit of the truth of what was going on. â€œSo you thought!â€ she shot at him. â€œAnd when I had the key to end Crispianâ€™s curse in my hands, you told me not to use it!â€ Her words dripped a venom of hatred that Jashen almost pulled back from. This was so not like her. s, "So you thought! And when I had the key to end Crispian's curse in my hands, you told me not to use it!" She leaned into him, even as he pulled back slightly. She sensed that the upper hand was hers, at least for now. She would make this young mercenary accept his ignorance. â€œDid you think I was unaware of the risks involved? Did you,â€ she sneered at him, â€œthink I was that ignorant?â€ The hatred she packed into the last word shook Jashen. --to be continuedâ€” -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Bashir_the_Bowman Title: Breaker of Bows Posts: 9,606 Registered: Aug 12, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 9,348 User ID: 705,575	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	so continue it already... oh yeah bump -----signature----- Gaiscioch - Phoenix Throne Bashir - Witch Hunter, Belgae - Engineer, Comal - Bright Wizard For Sale: Parachute. Only used once. Never opened. Small stain. http://www.myspace.com/fsustage
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/agree with Bashir -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Bah! I need to tighten up on my editting! -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump I'm on the edge of my seat here! Come on Crispian, you've no need to go to wrok, just post and we'll pay you... <Too drunk to posit anymore> -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	He quickly came back to his balance, at least mentally. He swallowed back a shudder of fear that passed through him as she examined him. â€œWere you?â€ he said with a cruel smirk. They were becoming easier to flash at her. He intentionally let it hang as open. She glared coldly at him. â€œHow can you be cruel enough to ask me that?â€ she gasped out. If she were faking her hurt this time, it was better than before. She pressed her hands against her face and sighed explosively. Jashen reached out and took her hands again. This might be a moment to press. He had to take every chance that slipped through to him. â€œWHAT HAPPENED?â€ he said with great intensity, even though he kept his voice to a bare whisper. Azi shook her head, still holding hands close to her face. â€œI knew the risks, Jashen,â€ she pleaded to him. She lowered her hands, showing a tight smirk on her face. â€œTwo-hunderd fifty or more tomes of curses I read through in search of a cure for my own.â€ Her voice was calm, very factual. â€œDid you know that?â€ She gave a wry chuckle. â€œFull well, I know the risks.â€ Her eyes again took on a distant look. Jashen grabbed her hands roughly, forcing her to look at him, getting within inches of her face. â€œWhat did she look like, Azi?â€ he asked, driving the question home with manner he held her. She almost sobbed out at the roughness. â€œI knew it would lead me to her,â€ she said in a low voice. â€œOr Arcalan. It would answer some questions.â€ She almost shuddered. â€œI knew that note was not from Crispian.â€ Jashenâ€™s face fell. He had cautioned her, he thought she had listened. â€œTell me of her, Azi,â€ he asked, filled with a dread wonder and scared at the same time. Azi was scaring beyond him now, through him. Her eyes grew slightly wider. â€œBefoere I even laid eyes on the cover of the tome, I knew it had been sent by her.â€ Jashen was horrified, his heart aching and his mind racing. â€œAnd what did you do, Azi?â€ he asked, his voice gentle, his soul in pain. A single tear formed on her cheek. Her voice changed ever so slightly. If one were not honed to battle as Jashen was, the change might even have gone unnoticed. But his senses were in high form. He was as tense as on the Thidranki plains. And as ready to act. â€œI did it for Crispian, Jashen.â€ She said as a look for puzzlement came over her. He was sure that at this moment, he spoke to Azi. â€œI opened it. I read it,â€ she continued, an odd tone in her voice. â€œAnd?â€ he asked, inching even closer. There was no more than a hand span between them now. â€œWhat did you see?â€ He was full of wonder and dread. Azi looked down into her mug, now half empty. Her head came back up, her eyes met his. With a sinking certainty, he knew that Azi was shuddered away inside again. The coldness in those eyes was chilling. â€œWouldnâ€™t you like to know, boyo?â€ she asked in a brutal tone. â€œTell me,â€ he gritted out through clenched teeth. â€œNOW! TELL ME!â€ He almost shook her. He was getting desperate, almost frantic. Aziâ€™s face contorted for a moment and then she let loose a laugh of near hysteria. It sent a chill through Jashen that shot straight down his spine. All manner of unpleasant was housed in that laugh. And not one once of human decency. He wondered at even those few lucid moments he had shared with Azi in these past minutes, and wondered if it would not be the last time he experienced her as he knew her to be; brave, valiant, and kind. He ached to hold her, to tell her that all would be well, but knew in his heart that she belonged to Ascot through a bond as deep as he felt with his own brother, and more so, because she had entered into it freely. His fingers dug into her wrists. He felt the corded muscles under his own hands. â€œTell me, Azi!â€ he urged her. â€œFor the love of Cris!â€ He was become desperate for another chink in the Dâ€™Vena fed facade that held Azi so. He had to find a way to reach her, in whatever mental prison it was that held her. Suddenly, Azi stopped laughing. She looked him square in the eyes. â€œHell, Jashen,â€ she said quietly, her voice reaching into his heart. â€œThe very face of it, as a woman.â€ en. The very face of it as a woman." A look of pain swept over her face and he could tell that the imprisoned Azi was close to emerging again. â€œTalk to me, Azi!â€ he urged her, quiet and yet forceful. He pulled her to him in an embrace, holding her. â€œWhat did she do?â€ he asked, his own voice filling with a pain, the ache he felt inside coming to the fore. Azi shook her head. â€œI canâ€™t remember!â€ she almost cried out. It was her voice and Jashenâ€™s heart rose to hear it. â€œI feel,â€ she paused, â€œhollow, like...like part of me is gone, and someone else is there.â€ The pain in her voice struck him harder than any foeâ€™s weapon could. He wanted to break down, to ease her pain somehow, but he knew he could not. He knew his resolve was what this all pivoted on right now. kes her head) I can't remember.. I feel hollow, like...like part of me is gone, and someone else is there.." â€œLike what, Azi?â€ he asked her. â€œTell me.â€ They were so close that she could feel his pulse. Azi sobbed. â€œPoor Crispian!â€ Her very essence surged to hold this slim link to her world, to not be pushed back. â€œIs this what he has been feeling all this time? It hasnâ€™t been a day, and I canâ€™t bear it!â€ she sobbed. Compared to Coroth, Dâ€™Vena was a heavy handed mistress, lacking the finesse of the enchanter. She raised her head to meet his eyes. â€œJashen, you are certain that Crispian trust you?â€ she asked, her voice still full of pain. He sighed as he held her. â€œI am more than his blood, Azi,â€ he said tenderly, hoping that it was his compassion that had jarred the control that Dâ€™Vena had been asserting. â€˜I pray to the Lord with all my heart that youâ€™re right,â€ she breathed out. Her eyes seemed to search his for a moment. â€œAnd you trust him, do you not?â€ She asked. The struggle for control was so evident in her face. Jashen unsheathed a dagger. â€œWith this to my heart,â€ he pledged. His trust of Crispian, even in the clutches of Dâ€™Vena was unshakable. His resolve a certainty. â€œDâ€™Vena spins such a web,â€ Azi gasped out, her hands raising to her temples as Jashen let them go. â€œI hear her thoughts!â€ Her eyes closed tight. Jashen shrank slightly away from her. â€œYou do?â€ he asked, his voice a mix of horror and amazement. He did not know if he would be able to bear up under that sort of an assault, a violation. Azi nodded as tears began to fall. Her misery was so evident to him, her pain so much. Jashen had to get her out of this. He had to think of a place that she could be safe, protected, and of no use to Dâ€™Vena whatsoever. â€œAzi,â€ he pleaded, letting the concern, pain and love come through in her voice. â€œGet to the Abbey, please.â€ He knew that Vestustala had shielded people from harm before, kept safe those who were threat to themselves, or to others. Azi continued to sob against him. â€œShe was hasty, Jashen. She used sorcery on me.â€ She let on a small moan as her control seemed to waver for a moment. She did not want to go back inside herself. â€œBut it went foul, Jashen.â€ He held her closer. â€œGo to the abbey, Azi,â€ he whispered to her. â€œHave them lock you in, please.â€ He could not bear the idea of losing her, and Crispian, even if she were another manâ€™s betrothed. Axi nodded grimly. â€œI shall not promise, Jashen!â€ she cired. â€œIf I am of sound mind, I shall, but I cannot promise I will be!â€ He was crushed by the very look on her face. â€œThen let me take you!â€ he implored her. Azi nodded, her face unmasked misery. â€œThat would be best, Jashen,â€ she said quietly. He took her arm and raised her up gently from her seat. â€œLet us go now,â€ he said as gently as he could. He felt as if he held a frighten rabbit. She rose to her feet, nodding as she sobbed. â€œWait!â€ she said as she pulled back. She reached into her pack and pulled forth the charred tome. â€œYou should take this,â€ she said as she pushed the book into Jashenâ€™s hands. He stuffed it quickly into his pack. He scowled at her, thinking of the harm it had caused already. â€œDid I NOT warn you of this?â€ he asked none to gently. She pulled back at his tone. â€œI TOLD you, you did, Jashen!â€™ she cried out in a hurt voice. â€œAnd I knew full well the risk!â€ Her voice filled with pain. He yanked her from the tavern, his anger getting the best of him. â€˜Silly Girl!â€™ he snapped at her. â€œYou did not know the risks!â€ â€œStop calling me that!â€ she protested. â€œI did indeed!â€ He continued to lead her through the streets of Camelot. â€œNo, you did not LISTEN!â€ he said, letting his anger fill the words. Azi pulled up short. â€œYou told me to play along! Amd I told You that I did it for Crispian!â€ Her voice was full of pain and rage. Jashen shook his head, but did not let go of her arm. â€œBut you put him in danger! MY brother! My TWIN!â€ He was beyond caring if his words hurt her or not. â€œI hope the abbey can hold what you are now!â€ He turned and walked on, towing Azi behind in a firm grip. She started to cry, almost a pathetic wail. â€œJashen, Jashen!â€ she sobbed. â€œDo you not trust me?â€ Her voice was so full of pain he had to hold his tears at bay. â€œI thought we were friends! I thought you cared for me!â€ she wailed, her despair overwhelming her control. The struggle to even be able to express her own feelings was great. â€œI cared for Crispian as if he were my own kin!â€ she exclaimed through her tears. â€œI did it for him! I shed light on her evil play for you! I sacrificed myself!â€ He turned and faced her. â€œI did trust you, and I hope to again! But if these monks cannot contain you, I will kill you,â€ he said. His heart was torn with the great love he felt for them both. He watched the color drain from Aziâ€™s face, and felt horror that he was the cause. â€œAre we clear?â€ he asked as he pulled into a sheltered alcove full of shadow. Her eyes still glinted in the wan light. â€œCrispian would never forgive youâ€ she hissed at him. Jashenâ€™s eyes blazed anger. â€œNor would I ask him to!â€ he threw back at her, his lips curled in a sneer. â€œYou wouldnâ€™t? she cired. â€œBut weâ€™re friends! I think of you as a brother!â€ Her words were again filled with pain. He turned her to face him. â€œI would,â€ his tone let her know that he meant he would kill her. â€œYOU are not my brother. Are we clear?â€ His eyes held no compassion or warmth any longer. Azi was weeping openly. â€œJashen, Please!â€™ she gasped out. â€œPlease, listen to me!â€ Her voice cut into him and he felt the pain she was feeling, although only through his love for her. Azi sobered into quiet seriousness, drawing her blade and holding it before her cross-like. â€œPlease Jashen, please listen to me.â€ Her eyes met his. â€œPlease, Jashen?â€ He shook his head, walking with her toward the Abbey once more. â€œI cannot, not until you are free,â€ he said in a voice full of emotion. â€œNot until you are free, though you are worth my very soul.â€ He led her through the north gate and out into the plain that marked the approach to the abbey proper. She thrust her sword into his free hand as they walked. â€œPlease, Jashen, send it to my father and tell him I am well!â€ Her eyes were full of tears once more. â€œTell him not of what has happened. Make something up.â€ She crossed herself, a look for pure misery which Jashen took as sign of her plight. â€œTell Crispian he is dear to my heart!â€ She broke into sobs as he tugged on the night bell to summon a monk. â€œI shall pray for al of us! Please, for all that I have done in the past, do these things for me. Promise me, please?â€ She grabbed his hand. Jashen turned her toward the monk who opened the gate as tears filled his eyes. â€œI shall lie for you, Azi. And Cris shall know not of this.â€ He turned to the night warder, pressing a gold into his hand. â€œMy sister is unwell,â€ he said to him. â€œPlease care for her, with love like my own.â€ He was struggling to even remain there. Azi turned at the last moment, almost through the gate. â€œJashen! Tell Ascot,â€ she stopped, her face contorting in what he took be pain. He dropped to one knee, tears on his face. His heart was breaking, for his brother, and for the woman he secretly loved, both of whom he seemed so close to losing right now. â€œWhat is my lady?â€ he said. â€œTell me your greeting to him.â€ Azi launched herself through the space, her hands raised in claws. â€œYou cannot leave me hear!â€ she called in a shrill voice full of agony. He rose, grabbing her fiercely. â€œHere is best, Azi! Please, for the love you bear my brother!â€ he said to her, his voice cracking and control close to giving out. Azi shrieked at him still, even in his arms. â€œHe hates you, Jashen! Heâ€™ll blame it all on you! BEWARE!â€ She began to laugh hysterically as Dâ€™Vena firmly, and none to gently, again took control, pressing Azi downward, into a small dark part of her own mind. He pushed her into the waiting monkâ€™s arms, tears rolling down his face. â€œCris cannot hate me, Azi,â€ he croaked out in a miserable voice. Azi struggled in the monkâ€™s grip, a sneer reshaping her face. â€œYou think not, Pontiff?â€ she hurled at him amid another bout of laughter. Jashen closed his eyes as fresh tears came. â€œHe cound not hate me, anymore than I could you!â€ As the door closed on her and the monk, he collapsed against it. His face rested on the rough wood. â€œOh my Azi,â€ he moaned. â€œMy dear Azi.â€ As her shrieks receded behind the door, he continued to hold the latch firm. His closed in pain. Suddenly, the door burst open and Azi rushed out it. â€œJashen! Jashen!â€ she called, her voice filled with great panic and her eyes alive with an inhuman agony. â€œDestroy that tome! No good can come from it!â€ He sprang to his feet and pushed her back into the arms of the monk, who grabbed her roughly and pulled her inside. â€œSWEAR IT, JASHEN!â€ she screamed. â€œThere are no answers there!â€ She continued to struggle as the monk pulled her backward. â€œI shall, my lady, I shall!â€ he answered her fervently. She calmed and bowed her head, hands clasped before her. Lifting her tear streaked face to him, she spoke again. â€œDearest Jashen, God bless,â€ she said as a shudder of relief went through her. He grabbed her hand. â€œWith my heart, Lady,â€ he said, pressing her hand to his chest, â€œit shall burn. And one day, I shall greet you again!â€ His last words were called out as the monk pulled her within the Abbey confines again. She looked back a last time with an expression of anguish that burned itself into Jashenâ€™s heart the moment he saw it. With a serene peace, she went back into the abbey. Jashen collapsed against the door, nothing left in him. â€œI shall kill you, Dâ€™Vena, for harming her!â€ he pledged to the night wind and the spirts of Albion. Later, bathed and without her armor, Azi sat alone in the room they had given her. â€œYes, yes,â€ she said into the quiet of the night. â€œNow that should bait his temper!â€ She giggled. â€œOne Pontiff out of the way, another to come!â€ She let loose a wild cackle. Deep in Lyn Barfog, Dâ€™Vena smiled a satisfied smile. The night had gone well, even if that little smudge of a man who styled himself a mercenary had given her a few moments to worry about. She would have her day and now it looked like she would get them both. My, that little Azi could turn into a good tool, if she could find a way out of the Abbey. Dâ€™Vena frowned, for it was all to likely that little man would have people watching. But Dâ€™Vena was confident. Her patience was a weapon honed on the like of Arguyle and Moryan. What should she worry over this little Pontiff boy? -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi lay alone and shaken in the tiny abbey room, her thoughts moving in broken waves through her mind. She had tried to sleep, only to be greeted by D'vena's wretched laughter and disgustingly horrid face sneering at her in victory as soon as she closed her eyes. She was well aware of her conversation with Jashen, even the parts that she had fought so desperately against. His harsh words repeated and lingered, like the pungent foul taste of the wine still on her tongue. She rolled to her back, staring into the darkness of the ceiling. Tears trickled down her cheeks and pooled onto her earlobes. He was right, she had put Crispian in even more danger than he had been in, and now she was the shell for it. Wild cackling rose in her mind, and she fought with all of her will to push it back. Now Crispian didn't even have her own strength to help him, the only thing she had had to offer him until now was gone. Now she was a prisoner of D'vena and of the abbey, locked in here for God only knew how long. D'vena had her victory. Azaeli heaved a shuddering sigh of hopelessness and resisted the urge to close her heavy eyelids, praying with desperation that the sleepless night would pass quickly. -----signature-----
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Kanna__ Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Kanna sidled up the streets toward Ye Mug, swaying her hips to catch the eye of any who might be watching. It had been a long day of hunting and her flask had emptied all too soon. As she rounded the corner and peered up the street toward the popular tavern, she saw two familiar figures emerge into the dark street. Ah, she thought, I missed a mug with Jashen and Azi.. As she neared to greet them, she realized something was wrong. Jashen had Azi by the arm and was pulling her a little too roughly toward the north gates.. Kanna stayed well behind and followed cautiously, wondering what on earth Jashen was doing to Azi, who was too meek to merit any of the roughness he was showing. She followed them all the way to the abbey, watching Jashen's mood grow fouler and Azi's pleas grow louder. She gasped as Azaeli drew her mother's blade and handed it over to him. Something was really wrong here. That blade was a treasure worth more than any gold to Azi, why would she hand it over like a common garden rake? She watched as the monk took Azi in, watched Azi attack Jashen, watched Jashen slump against the door. Kanna ducked into the shadows, shaken by what she had seen. Someone had to be told about this, someone who cared about Azi. She ducked away and sprinted off toward the gates, resolving to head to Lethantis. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arguyle and the King had left Crispian alone for a time and conferred in private. It was a nervous for moments for the young armsman. He hated being at the palace for any reason, and the current one did not top his list at all. The chamber he was in was pleasant enough, but the two guards at the door left little doubt that he was at least detained, if not out right under arrest. It was sometime before Arguyle returned. Crispian raised his head to greet the highlander as he entered the chamber. Arguyle was not a small man, and his fine armor, tailored cloak, and outrageous socks added to his commanding appearance. While he did not look like a bringer of doom, nor did he look too pleased at the moment. Crispian swallowed hard as he rose and saluted him. â€œWhat is it you wished to speak of?â€ he asked in a subdued voice. While he knew the charges were grave, he doubted the King would send Arguyle to present a sentence. Arguyle frowned in thought. â€œThe King questioned Pompin and found that he was hired to make false charges against you.â€ While that was not technically the truth, the lad did not need to know all that had passed in the interrogation chamber with Pompin. â€œIt seems that Dâ€™Vena had a major hand in it,â€ he continued, using the conclusion that had been come to, â€œand the King has run out of patience with the witch.â€ He paused. The interrogation of Pompin had been a brutal affair, one which Arguyle would not want to go through again. Perhaps the worst of it had been all the time spent with Lady Wynchel, the ranking Cleric of the Realm. Even her talents and skills had been called to their ultimate testing. For Pompinâ€™s soul had been displaced from his body, and it took much work for it to be brought back. Even now, the Lady Cleric was still sleeping in another chamber above, as were her five assistance, some of them near as skilled as she was. Crispian registered the sentence that Arguyle had just said, but it made not sense to him. Dâ€™Vena had other holds on him, so why this? â€œBut why would she do that, Lord General?â€ he asked, unable to fully see why she would use this sort of an attack on him, when she had brought so much other misery to him in ways that were easier for her to use. It did not make sense to Crispian, but neither did this whole affair. Arguyle rubbed at an ear, tugging on the lube in thought for a moment. â€œShe knows you are a friend of mine, and that you aided the King in spoiling her assassination attempt,â€ he explained, wondering if Crispian was so far gone that he had forgotten those events. A deep blush rose over Crispianâ€™s face, from the collar of his breastplate to his hairline. â€œAye,â€ he said shyly, â€œI know what role I played.â€ How could he forget? Not that his tasks had been entirely unpleasant on some level. Arguyle squared his shoulders. â€œHis Majesty has commissioned me to bring her to justice,â€ he said gravely. His face was the most somber Crispian had seen it since the Carrington affair. â€œAlive or dead, she will be returned to Camelot,â€ he concluded, signaling one of the guards to bring refreshment, for he was sure both he and Crispian could use some. He still felt the screams of Pompin as the exorcism had been performed, and the amount of power in the room had raised the hairs all over his body. And the way that man had fought! The things he had said. â€œBut, Lord General, she is in her fastness,â€ Crispian said weakly. The Manse in Lyn Barfog seemed much more than a grand home. It was her bastion, and from all the Crispian had been able to glean, it was defended magically as well by other means. In three days of hunting for it, he had never been able to find the spot where it was nor any sign of where it might have been. Crispian shook his head as he was handed a silver goblet of wine. â€œI am not even sure the might of the Red Lions can help with that,â€ he informed Arguyle levelly. The General knew him to be a good commander on the front, and Crispian hoped he would take his words to heart. Arguyle drew himself up again, literally towering over Crispian. â€œThe Order of the Red Lions,â€ he said, his burr thick around the words, â€œhas been charged with bringing her to justice.â€ He was working himself up, remembering every slight that Dâ€™Vena had been party to, and the near death of his own brother due to her intrigues. â€œAnd bring her to justice, we shall! Even if we have to lay siege to her keep!â€ His words were as defiant to Crispianâ€™s caution as his attitude was. Crispian closed his eyes, thinking of all the fine members of the Order that he knew, with his mind coming last to Glavian. He would hate to see Moryan a widow, when he had last seen her happier than she had ever been before. â€œI am not worth so many deaths,â€ he said quietly as he turned away from the highlander general, walking to the embrasures that looked out over the courtyard below. Arguyle stomped after him, heavy plates booted thudding on the carpet, his great cloak swirling about him. â€œThe Witch has vexed me and those close to me long enough!â€ he nearly roared. â€œIt is time she learn what a â€˜pig farmerâ€™ can do when he sets his mind to it!â€ The color had risen on his face and Crispian had to suppress a grin at the image of the Lord General as anger as any highlander peasant whose best pony has taken a misstep. He failed. A chuckle turned into a low laugh as he watched the General stalk back and forth across the room. â€œShe hates you!â€ he laughed. â€œI think her mind is elsewhere this night,â€ he said suddenly, his face dropping into seriousness one more. Arguyle turned on him. â€œWhat do you mean?â€ he said as his face filled with concern, clouding as he tried to grasp what sort of foul magics must be at play. Crispian shook his head for a moment. His throat worked as he swallowed back a rise of fear. â€œWhen she has naught else to do,â€ he said quietly as his mirth of a moment before melted away, â€œshe focuses on me.â€ His eyes had widened in fear for a moment as he thought of some of other hapless victim, no doubt tormented in lieu of Crispian himself. His only solace was that he did not know them. Arguyle closed his eyes in thought for a moment. â€œI see, lad,â€ he said with a small nod. â€œCrispian, I owe you a great debt for your aid,â€ he continued gravely. â€œI will free you of this curse, I swear it!â€ He lowered his huge highlander hand onto Crispian shoulder and gave him a stern level look. Crispian sighed, settling onto a seat in the window. â€œIf it were only that easy, Lord,â€ he said his dread of Dâ€™Vena rising. â€œI fear she wantsâ€¦â€ again he had to swallow to continue, emotion threatening to overwhelm him completely. â€œShe wants more than just me,â€ he finished, raising eyes to meat Arguyleâ€™s. The General scowled in response. â€œShe will have nothing more,â€ he declared grimly. â€œIt ends soon!â€ His nostrils flared as he declared this in the same tone Crispian had heard him use to order the charge on a keep. There was no question in the Highlanderâ€™s mind that he would destroy this witch and do it soon. Crispian nodded. What more could he do? â€œThe burden is great,â€ he said as he watched the General reattain a state of some calmness. â€œI fear I shall never be fully quit of it,â€ he said quietly. His thoughts were much on the League, and what this curse might be costing them. And then there was still Toby to consider. Arguyle looked at Crispian in sympathy for a moment. â€œYou shall be as free of it as possible,â€ he said calmly. â€œWith any luck, you will be fully freed.â€ Crispian again met the Lord Generalâ€™s gaze. â€œI have hated you at moments, Lord General, with even the lust to slay thee,â€ he said in a calm voice, relaying a fact of the matter. Arguyle peered more closely at Crispian, aware but unconcerned for the moment that the lad was still fully armed. He remembered their stormy conversation at Castle Sauvage. â€œWhy so?â€ he asked with gentleness in his voice that did not quite match the gruff exterior he presented to the world. Crispian bit his lip in nervousness, hoping that Dâ€™Venaâ€™s attentions would not swing his way at this moment. â€œShe drives me to it,â€ he explained. â€œShe can master, and twist, my very thoughts at times,â€ he went on, the efforts of it making him start to sweat in the small chamber. Arguyle scowled. Would the evil witch never stop? Must she pursue hurt so? â€œYour thoughts, maybe.â€ He allowed. â€œBut no man or woman, short of Almighty God, can manipulate your heart!â€ Arguyle swore his truth in the deep devotion that had served him well as a paladin, and was in truth a core of his very being. He sat opposite the lad and looked into his eyes. â€œStay true to what you believe, Crispian,â€ he said in a voice full of compassion. â€œIt is what separates us from people like Dâ€™Vena.â€ His words were urgent, kind and caring. Crispian closed his eyes, head tipping back to rest on the stone wall behind him. â€œBut she can, Lord, she can,â€ his meek voice decried quietly. â€œShe can twist so much,â€ he went on, eyes looking now to the ceiling over them. â€œYou could not believe,â€ he said as tears formed in his eyes. Arguyle smacked his knee lightly to bring his attentions back to the present and the now. â€œLad,â€ he mused, â€œshe has been causing problems for my family for many years now. There is not much I wouldnâ€™t believe when it deals with her.â€ He knew the kind of terrible pain and suffering she could inflict, and wondered just how badly she was making it for Crispian. Crispian laughed a mirthless laugh. â€œOh, perhaps she has learned a trick or two,â€ he quipped. Arguyle signed himself in blessing. â€œMy faith is my shield,â€ he declared. â€œShe can do me no harm with her petty magicks! I fear her not.â€ Crispian looked at Arguyle in true pain for a moment. â€œShe has corrupted all for me,â€ he said, thinking of Toby mostly. And Eirennelle. â€œNothing is as it should be, any longer.â€ He sighed into the quiet of the moment. Arguyle looked on the lad with pity. He was too young to have the full ability to cope with something this large. If only Dâ€™Vena had taken on one more her season, or at least one who did not have the pure heart that Crispian had. â€œRemember,â€ he advised, â€œeverything comes full circle. I think that soon, all will be right.â€ He hoped to put truth to these words as soon as possible. Crispian nodded grimly and exhaled loudly. He had to hold on to some hope, some thread that it would end. He looked at the General and gave a shy smile. â€œA favor, General?â€ he asked timidly. Arguyle could not repress a smile himself, for it was just this kind of quiet resolve and respect that he liked so much in Crispian. â€œAye?â€ he said with a nod. Crispian tried not to look into the Generalâ€™s eyes, for he felt what he was asking was a large boon indeed. â€œI would plead my case to the king for my freedom,â€ he said, â€œon my honor! But your word would count more.â€ He knew some of his actions of late had been quite ignoble, and that his honor was not in the highest repute at the moment, although there were none who would openly call him to the challenge. Arguyle chuckled and shook his head. â€œLad, there is no pleading to be done! The King has seen the truth,â€ he said. Even if you know not all of it, his did not add. â€œYou are free!â€ He again clapped Crispian on the shoulder with great force. Crispian closed his eyes as tears came. â€œThank you, General, for I know, no matter what you say, that you played no small part in this.â€ Arguyle snorted. â€œLad, I did nothing more than pull the shadow back from the Truth.â€ He shook his head. â€œHis Majesty did the rest.â€ He sounded very dismissive of the entire thing, and obviously was uncomfortable with the topic. Crispian laughed. â€œOh, and your arse ainâ€™t hairy, Lord General!â€ He could only be amused by the modest Arguyle was trying to effect, for he knew him indeed to be a great blow-hard when he wanted to. There was no doubt in his mind that Arguyle had done a bit of storming about. Arguyle shook his head as he too chuckled. â€œFor the life of me, I will never understand the infatuation people have with my arse!â€ He stood and drew Crispian up. He was laughing as they passed out into the hallway. Guards drew up in salute to the High General and Arguyle nodded in acknowledgement as they passed, both still chuckling. â€œNot your arse, General,â€ Crispian explained as they emerged into the outer court of the Palace. â€œJust the hairs on it.â€ The night was glorious outside, without a cloud to be seen and a slight breeze was up. Now that he was free of the charge against Pompin at least, there was the matter of a Cabalist to deal with. Or at least to address. And then, Dâ€™Vena. He had let this force him into a wallow of misery too long. He would do what he had to do to be able to act with a clear head and the swiftness of manner he had been accustomed to. He turned to Arguyle again. â€œMy thanks, as always Lord General,â€ he said as he saluted him firmly. Arguyle scoffed. â€œStop now, Lad, and get to work on what you need to do, and I will get to work on what I have to do.â€ He returned the salute fully, not with just a nod. Then he watched the young Seneschal, and his friend, leave through a postern gate. His thoughts turned to the Witch as soon as Crispian was out of sight, and the people he would need to call upon to make good on his vow. There was work to be done by the Lord General of the Red Lions. Arcalan had finally managed to calm herself some. Then the pain struck. Her eyes went wide as she realized that SOMONE had shattered the soul gem! The spirit of Pompin, imprisoned to aid her Lord in his rise to Power had been shattered! There were only a few in the realm with that kind of power and fewer who could bring them all together. She immediately began to make a plan to get another soul gem and bring the Master back. He would not be happy with this turn of events, and even a servant as faithful as Arcalan had been was sure to taste a bit of his wrath for this. She did not know who was responsible, but she was not pleased. Her mind conjured up dozens of revenges she could take when she found out who was to blame for setting her plan back, even this bit. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Arguyle_MacFadden Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	After parting ways with Crispian, Arguyle walked the short distance from the Palace to his apartments in Camelot. He had work to do and did not have the time to ride back to his estates near Snowdonia. As he came to the door a young squire within the Order of the Red Lions saluted and stood tall saying, "Lord High General, I have a message for you from Dauid. He asked me to deliver this personally." With that he handed over a parchment with the scouts seal on it. Arguyle opened it and read the contents. The message consisted of of four simple words but those words were like music to his ears. It read: I have found her. Arguyle smiled broadly and patted the squire on the shoulders. "Thank you lad. Go now to the Hall of the Lion and let everyone know that we gather for battle." With that Arguyle entered his apartments and headed straight for his desk. He sat and pulled out parchment and quill. Dipping the quill into the ink he set it to paper and he wrote six notes. All of which said the same thing. He addressed them to some of his oldest and dearest friends, Richard, Moryan, Edeor, Excelsius, Bantalus and Crispian. Whispering to himself he said, "I need you now more than ever friends." Then he sent the letters off with his Steward, Kyle, to be delivered. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian moved easily through the city. Camelot had served as home for many months, or was it a year now? The pace and flow of the city was his pace, his flow. He felt it in his heart. This was the place where he would eventually make his life full-time, if ever the wars did end. For now, having gained his freedom again, if only on his honor and pledge, he planned to return to the toil of the forge. He wanted to seek the comfort of something well known, his craft and trade. He had done much work in his first weeks in Camelot. It would be good to get back to it. There was something about the feel of the city today. There seemed to be an anticipation in the air, almost a hush. He had heard that Midgard was causing problems in the frontiers, but he felt no need to rush out there. He knew he would not take command, and at the moment having someone else call his actions did not appeal to him. He thought of his last exchange with Arguyle, there in the court. The older General had looked at him as he prepared to step out into the city. â€œI thank you, General, for this,â€ he had said as he resettled his shield on his arm. â€œI shall not forget, and I hope not to disappoint you.â€ The older man had smiled. â€œI am sure you wonâ€™t, Lad,â€ he said. â€œJust stay true to Albion.â€ He had the simple, but not simple minded, out look on life of a man with great faith. Crispian let a wistful sigh escape him. â€œAlbion is not my worry,â€ he replied. â€œIt is more Tobâ€¦â€ he caught himself, shaking his head. â€œNevermind with that problem.â€ He had let the matter drop at that. He did not need the Highlander born Paladin and High Lord of the Red Lions being dragged into his romantic issues. As he made his way through the city, people moved out of his way, but not in a bad way. Many still bowed respectfully, but some did have the look of disrespect. He did not like that, but there was little he could do about it until the public hearings were over and his name fully cleared. It would be a tense month or so until that was taken care of. In the meantime, he planned on attending to League business and a bit of crafting, with maybe a hunt or two mixed in. Even with all the burdens upon him for leadership in the League, he still managed to lead the life of a simple soldier, for the most part. He spied a familiar face as he moved along Portobello Road, which ran next to the East Gate of the City. He smiled as he approached. â€œHail Friend!â€ he called to Kelvyn. It had been some time since he had seen the infiltrator. Kelvyn smiled in return. â€œHail, old friend!â€ he called, moving easily amid the crowd on the street until he and Crispian were traveling step in step. â€œIt feels good to be free,â€ Crispian observed with a smile. â€œCare to join me for an ale? I have a favor to ask.â€ Their conversation paused as they made their way into Ye Mug and found a quiet table, one only recently vacated by two very close to Crispian. Kelvyn settled across from Crispian, taking the spot with his back to the wall. He had not gotten to his season of being an infiltrator by taking unneeded risks, and to his mind, exposing his back to a room full of strangers was unneeded. He happily let Crispian, back covered in thick armor, that that position. â€œKelv,â€ he said quietly over the top of their mugs, â€œyou are one of the best in the land. I need your help.â€ He felt no shame in admitting that the infiltrator across from him was far his better in the ongoing war against Midgard and Hibernia, as well as the hunt in general. Kelvyn had been constantly about and learned more than Crispian to date. â€œHow well do you know Snowdonia?â€ He asked, sipping lightly at the ale before him. He was trying his best not to get into his cups again, and when business was done with Kelvyn, he intended to seek out Azi. Her very presence seemed to calm him as no other could. Kelvynâ€™s expression changed not one bit. â€œVery.â€ He waited a moment. â€œWhy do ye ask?â€ Crispian took a deeper pull from his tankard. â€œMy Squire, Tannir, was last seen headed there.â€ He had personally set him to the mission of following Arcalan, but had not thought he would go out from the city to continue his shadowing. â€œAnd ye have nay heard from him?â€ Kelvyn asked calmly. His eyes scanned the room behind Crispian and only occasionally paused to meet his friendâ€™s. With a shake of his head, Crispian answered. â€œNo,â€ he bit on his upper lip. â€œHe is very special to me.â€ As Kelvyn looked sharply at him, Crispian blushed but shook his head to signal not special in that way. Kelvyn considered for a moment. â€œAye, I can look fer him fir ye,â€ he said, eyes again scanning the room. â€œIf money is an issue, I can pay,â€ Crispian offered, knowing that most Shadow Guilders preferred to work for pay. However, Kelvyn was shaking his head even as Crispian spoke. â€œNay, friend, money isnae an issue with ye,â€ he said as he lifted his mug to drink. Crispian took a long pull from his own tankard again. â€œAnd, Kelvyn,â€ he paused. The infiltrator turned his eyes to Crispian again. â€œIf any are with him and should not see the rising of a new sun, I would understand.â€ His face had gone flat and bleak. Kelvyn nodded. â€œI understand, friend, truly I do.â€ They sat in silence as each finished his tankard, and then departed. Crispian went out the front and Kelvyn slipped upstairs and out over the rooftops of Camelot. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	"UNACCEPTABLE!" The chill voice echoed through Arcalan's mind. She knew there would literally be hell to pay, if her Master were not appeased. She ran her mind back across the bargains struck in the last year, and her own talent for opening the Gateway her Master needed. She knew he could not harm her too much, but she also knew there were plenty of others that could and would if given the chance. Her ability was unique, she was sure of that much. The Master had torn out the souls of people who displeased him, and it was not mere luck that she had been spared. Pompin of course was not a threat. he barely recalled the past year of his life let alone who really attacked him. His transition to the gem would have driven him mad had he not been freed so early. Instantly she thought of the foolish meddling Cleric who must have brought him back. No longer a part of the Chruch, he still did their bidding, coming from the woods of the Cornwall moors to bring back pompin at the wrong moment. Nor would all this blow over. By all accounts 20 or more people had lost their life in the exorcism, and each Phoenix Knight now roared in pain in the bowels of the Falls. The King would not soon forget such a loss. The clerics of the Church had come close to madness facing Pompin's true puppeteer, and had he a better grasp on this world... ah... that was where the problem lay. Pompin's body was an imperfect host. Mortals would not suffice to allow her Master full strength, she'd have to plead her case with him and work upon a suitable body. She trembled in terror at the thought of it. Now was no time to hide though... hiding confirmed her guilt. No, better to be out in the world, free to stand up to accusations from Crispian and jashen. After all, she had covered her tracks, and no wrong was doen that could be proved. She had powerful friends now, with the addition of Sir Bors, and the Cabalists of Lethantis... yes, she would survive this. She emerged in Camelot and made her way to the entrance to the Falls. If those meddling twins wanted her they could come and get her. The rest of the League was in her favour, as she well intended. With luck D'Vena would fry Crispian's brain before too long, and Arcalan barely knew which of those two she hated more... The harsh sunlight fell on her as she strode out of Camelot, and into the comforting labarynth of Darkness Falls. It was her luck to meet Sir Bromton of the League there, and the two of them did wonders in clearing out the Necyomancers from near the cave where Marloch resided. The Cook swould only be troubled by these petty interlopers, trying to pester him for power. She would gain it all, without the sacrifices a Necyomancer must endure. All she had to do was wait out the storm... -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi sat quietly on a bench in the Abbey's garden, watching and listening to the young acolytes tending the variety of vegetables that grew there. Brother Darrin sat watch beside her, nodding off into a doze in the sun's warmth. Sunlight sparkled on her golden blond hair as she moved to smooth the undyed robes the abbey had provided for her. Anyone watching her would think she was a lady at peace, enjoying the blue sky and light afternoon breeze and pleasantly listening to the soft whispers around her. But inside her head, she was fighting the most difficult battle of her life. D'vena pushed against every thought in her head, shadowing every hope with the worst doubts possible. Sometimes her evil thoughts came through, revealing her plan to Azi piece by piece. Most of the time, though, Azaeli was left to her own thoughts. She was alone. Jashen had left her, she dared not contact Pappa or Ascot, and, even if she could, especially not Crispian... "...so they just let him walk free?" A young highland postulate whispered to the avalonian beside her, who nodded gravely. "But how? If you ask me, they should keep him locked up so he can't do it again." "Well, I heard the king owes him a favor, or something.." the avalonian whispered. "But it's madness, you're right. At the least, he's an awful drunk, and dangerous." Azi's heart leapt to her throat, she jolted from her thoughts. "Who," she said hoarsely, startling the two young acolytes, "who are you talking about?" The highland girl gave her a frightened look, and Azi tried to soften her expression. "That leader of St. Crispin's...the drunk one.." A hideous shriek jolted through Azaeli's head. Crispian! Free! She clenched her fists, her nails dug into her palms. Her eyes darted past the two unnerved acolytes to the garden gate, and the freedom beyond. Laughter rang out in her head, D'vena's shrill, horrid laughter. A panic rose in her, she felt an impulse to run for the gates. With all her strength, she squeezed her eyes closed and reached to tug on Brother Darrin's robes. "Brother," she whispered frantically, "please, take me inside." Brother Darrin started awake and looked down at her pleading face with a questioning grunt. "Please, take me in and lock my door," Azi hissed. She was still in control, and she would make it as difficult as possible for D'vena to succeed. The towering monk nodded, took her by the elbow, and marched her inside as the two young acolytes watched wide-eyed. -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Illos, a minstrel of St. Crispin's League, was young of seasons but older in years. Her grey hair was falling over a once lovely face, who's lines and wrinkles added character in fair exchange for beauty. She was well liked by most of the people here, and played her role of rubber ear and granny quite well. She sat in "ye Mug"; a bar generally regarded as more important to Camelot's well being than the King and his castle were. The wall behind her was in need of a good coat of paint, but people nowadys didn't maintain things properly. All their heads were full of was the wars and glory. But most pressing at the moment was the conversation going on across from her. "Round the bend, stark staring, three turnips short of an allotment MAD I tell you" said the young guard. "Well he's a bit drunk right enough, but he's not so bad a fellar now izzhe?" slurred his companion, a crossbow merchant from out of the city. "He's pleasent enough alright" retorted the guard "if by pleasent you mean he cuts up the locals when he's having a bad turn and smiles at everyone when his head is full of ale, then aye he's great! But I'd not have a madman wandering the city with a whole guild of followers ready to do his bidding" "Yer right in that" said the merchant "He's got a fair few allies eh? Prolly the King owed him a favour, and let's him out so's he can get some care taken of him. No good flogging nobelsnow is it?" "Is that the Lord Crispian?" Joined in a third man, who was only passing the table "He's so nutty squirrels could eat his head for lunch" he guffawed. Illos had never taken kindly to people who guffaw. It wasn't necessary when God had given people a nice decent laugh to use, and here was this man insulting her Seneschal and making that terrible laugh. Right then, she thought, time to put an end to this! "The Lord Crispian is a devout and brave warrior, you loud mouthed knave, and he'd be ten times the gentleman you are even if he were drunk!" She rose up, to her full, not-so-imperious hight of 5 feet. "Now you'll stop your gossiping about your betters and get about your business unless you want me to give you a clip round the ear!" The little grandmotherly woman stood shaking a finger at the lout, who tried unsuccessfully to laugh her off. "You three had better take your drinks elsewhere" called the barman, attracting grunts of protest from the gossiping patrons. "Or else you'll keep your nose out of others affairs eh?" Begrudgingly the men sat down and moved on to talk of other things, not far from the watchful Illos. That poor man, she thought. He's enough to contend with without these folks gossiping. This whole thing is going to cast a shadow over him and our Guild, but by the good Lord's graces I'll not stray from his side till doomsday. She sat back in her chair... And the ale used to taste better, too, she mused. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian rested the night in his familiar room, but it all seemed wrong. Tannir was not there, but Ardy served well enough. He avoided ale and busied himself with stacks of paper work left him, much of it from Jashen. He was curious about his brotherâ€™s whereabouts, but took the night to recover himself. He fingered the Willow Ring he had long held now, and even considered seeking Ayslyn out, but it was not yet time. That time would come. Then there was the possibility of going after Dâ€™Vena. The idea did fill him with a small amount of dread, even with the assurances of Toorcâ€™s sword. The weight felt right in his hand and he knew that if the moment came he would be able to make the blow that would kill her. Finally, as the cathedral bells were calling the earliest worshippers in, he dozed. Mid-morning found him awake, though. He considered his armor and instead chose a robe of deep blue gossamer. He made his way down to the Hall that the League let out and found Jashen there. For once, it looked like Jashen had been on the losing end of an ale fight. His hair was mussed, the coif of his chain mail pushed back. When did Jashen start to wear chain mail? Crispian asked himself. â€œHail, Jashen,â€ he said as he settled opposite him. â€œYou look like hell,â€ he quipped, pouring a mild morning ale and taking some bread and cheese from a large platter. â€œOut all night carousing?â€ Jashen turned his face away from Crispian for a moment, staring out the door to the hall. â€œIt was a bad night for me, Cris.â€ His voice was quiet, subdued. He turned red-rimmed eyes back to his twin. The sheer misery on his face alarmed Crispian greatly. â€œWhat is it, Jash?â€ he asked quietly. Jashen took a deep breath, his face a mask of pain and torment. â€˜I had to lock her in there, Cris,â€ he said, his voice breaking and tears starting anew. â€œShe wasnâ€™t herself, I swear it.â€ A choked sob broke from his throat as he collapsed against the table. Crispian rushed around to his side and pulled him up. Jashen clung to him like a child, crying his heart out. Crispian felt odd. He had never really comforted Jashen before. Not by holding him. Was that something missing between them? Was it because their mother had never done it? That Auntie never had? â€œEasy, Jashen,â€ he cooed softly. â€œNow, who is she and where did you lock her in?â€ he asked in a very quiet voice. Jashen gasped in air for a moment, wiping his running nose against his sleeve. â€˜Azi,â€ he said, on the verge of another break. â€œIt was Dâ€™Vena. I mean, Dâ€™Vena is inside Azi,â€ he chin started to shake and he barely held on to control. â€œShe read the tome, Cris!â€ he moaned. â€œWhy did she read the tome? I told her not to! I told her! I knew it wasnâ€™t from you!â€ He melted into a sobbing heap again, and again Crispian held him. What in the name of all the holies was he blathering about? What tome? And how had Dâ€™Vena gotten inside Aziâ€™s head? He just didnâ€™t understand it. When Jashen had calmed again, and Crispian had gotten some whiskey down him for comforting reasons, as well as some bread, they sat opposite each other. â€˜Now,â€ older brother said to younger, â€œtell me about it, calmly.â€ Jashen recounted the tales of the past day in their fullness to Crispian. He was shocked, stunned and angered in turn. Then, he told Jashen of his night. The same emotions played out on Jashenâ€™s face as they had on Crispianâ€™s. â€œSo,â€ Crispian began when all had been told, â€œwe have a mysterious tome, that you have locked up now, and a possessed crier, who is also locked up now, but honorably. And you locked up Azi when she was helpless?â€ He was annoyed at that last one. Why not put her with Auntie Mir, or Toorc? Why bribe the abbey into taking her in as a mad sister? And WHO was going to take that sword to Judan? He should make Jashen do it, but felt it his duty as head of her guild. â€œYou donâ€™t understand it, Cris.â€ Jashen shook his head. â€œIt was really bad, and she is not herself.â€ Although his grief was gone, his misery remained deep in him. â€œShe would swing back and forth between her moods, and she would suddenly just be evil.â€ Tears stood in his eyes but none fell. â€œSo the Abbey seemed best?â€ he asked again. â€œAnd you just left her? Did you call for Lynis at least? That IS his mother house!â€ He was finding it hard to hold his anger at this in check, for Azi was most dear to him. â€œLynis is in Lethantis or the Swamp, but I did send word.â€ Jashen did not want to face Crispianâ€™s anger right now, not with his heart broken as it was from last night. â€œHe has not yet arrived, I understand. But we did find some information out.â€ He reached for some crumpled papers that Crispian batted away. â€œWhat are you playing at, Jashen?â€ he barked suddenly, as his face contorted into a mask of anger. â€œYou are no spy master. Youâ€™re just a mercenary!â€ He hated the words as he said them, and hated more the look on Jashenâ€™s face. His nostrils flared, hands balled into fists and relaxed, and his jaw throbbed with clench muscles. â€œOh, is that it, Cris? Since I didnâ€™t become an infiltrator I canâ€™t do the job? FINE!â€ He slammed down his signet, the Tower of the League barred thrice. â€œMaybe you can find someone else to do it! Iâ€™m done. And maybe I will go become an infiltrator.â€ Crispian shook his head, sitting down. â€œJashen, Iâ€™m sorry, that was uncalled for. Of course, you do a fine job, an excellent job.â€ But Jashen as not deterred. â€œIâ€™ll be back, Cris. I need to go talk to someone at the Shadow Guild.â€ He stamped from the hall in a rage and Crispian hurled an earthware goblet across the room. â€œOh, that was well done, Cris,â€ he said to himself as he sat back down. â€œWell done indeed. Maybe you should go into politics.â€ Several junior League members moved passed him as he sat there, a deep scowl on his face. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Excelsius Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Excelsius sat within the serene cloister of the monastary, the inner sanctum of Ordo Procinctus. It was here, in this isolated part of the Black Mountains, that the friar took refuge from the turmoil and conflict of the world. The eden-like garden of the cloister had a manicured, yet wild, nature. Protected from the chill winds that blew down from the north, from Snowdonia, this courtyard was indeed a precious resting place. Excelsius thumbed a rosary as he slowly walked in meditation. He stopped near a small granite monument, beset with the likeness of a kind old friar. He closed his eyes in prayer, and after a time serenely opened them to read the inscription once again: "AVGVSTVS PROCINCTVS SI VIS PACEM PARA BELLVM" As Excelsius stood in contemplation, an old crooked friar ambled toward him, clutching a note and steadying himself with stout cane. With nary a word, the old friar lifted the sealed note towards Excelsius. "Thank thee, Venerable Friar Derwin," Excelsius whispered as he bowed slightly to receive the note. The old friar smiled and turned, and shuffled away. Excelsius placed the note in the folds of his robe. He would finish his meditations and look upon it in time. ------------------------------------ Back at his small cottage within the hillside forest, Excelsius sat down in his favorite chair, leather straps creaking as he adjusted and found a comfortable position. He pulled the note from his robe sleeve and looked upon it. It was sealed with a crimson wax emblem resembling a rampant lion. It was simply addressed, "Excelsius of the Irregulars". He recognized the seal as that of the Order of the Red Lions and wondered what these men wanted with him. He broke the seal and read the note. His thoughts turned to the early history of the Irregulars, which he had studied at length from guild documents. During a dark time in the Boar's past, when no royal house would touch the militia of commoners, Arguyle stood by Bowar and the Irregulars. He placed his reputation and title on the line for the small guild back then. "And I will stand with Arguyle now," the friar whispered in determination to himself, "I must send word t' the Irregulars immediately." He snuffed out the candle and gathered his travelling gear. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	A wave of shrill laughter, and Azaeli's quill tip skidded from the illuminated page of the prayerbook she had been scripting. Images flashed before her: Crispian holding Jashen, her mother's sword glinting in the guild hall, Crispian smacking papers from Jashen's hand, a signet ring being slapped onto the table... So D'vena had gotten them to fight after all, Azi thought, and she had been the cause. Azi drew a slow, shakey breath and looked down at the ruined page. She could write Crispian a letter, explaining that it hadn't been Jashen's fault.. She took up the quill and a fresh sheet of parchment. Shrill cackling rang out, and Azi realized it was not in her head this time, it was her own mouth that the horrid sounds came from. Sighing and fighting back tears, she collected the parchment and writing tools and tapped on her chamber door. A large monk opened it a crack, and she shoved the materials into his arms. He looked confused, and a bit wary, but Azaeli ignored that. "Take these, don't let me have them again, even if I ask and seem in my right mind." She wasn't about to allow D'vena any means at all to reach out to the outside world. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen stormed from the hall and made his way to the Guild of Shadows. He was trembling in rage and anger. So intent was he on his destination, that he nearly collided with an elder cleric walking while reading from his book of prayer. "Pardon, sir," the young mercenary automatically said and prepared to move on his way. "Well, nephew! You can knock me down, but hardly move off with only a pardon!" his Uncle Camlin said mildy. The old man's face was kindly, and Mirashta said he looked much as Jasper had when she knew him. "Sorry, Uncle," he replied moodily, "my mind was elsewhere. I am in a bit of hurry, you see." He started off again but was stayed by a hand on his shoulder. "You are trouble, Jashen." Camlin fixed his gaze on Jashen. "Allow me to advise you on this concern." Jashen hesitated, then fell into step next to his Uncle. "I have quit my post in the League." His words were quiet, so as not to carry. "And am going to quit the Mercenaries." Camlin pulled him into a near by doorway. "You're WHAT?" he gasped. "Son, you have a fine talent with the blades and there are few who can use two as fine as you. Lord Wynter has been praising that for ages!" "Uncle, calm, please. I intend to become an infiltrator." He paused, watching the old man intently. It was a good thing they had run into each other, he reflected, for once Camlin had been a fighter, and well skilled, but gave it up for the Church. The older man look at him closely, then raised his right had. "May the Almighty bless you in this endeavor, my son, and watch over you always." His hand came down to rest on Jashen head for a moment. Then he withdrew it and smiled. "When you have time, I would like to visit at length, Jashen. I have tales to share with you." A small smile played on his lips. Camlin knew that Mirashta had not shared much about their parents. "As soon as life allows, Uncle," Jashen promised as he rushed off toward the Guild of Shadows, feeling much better about himself and his new mission. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Kelvyn26 Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Kelvyn slumped off his horse at Snowdonia Fortress. Kelvyn's body was tired. The constant war on Midgard and Hibernia was beginning to take a toll on him as conscriptions for his scouting and assassin services were coming in at a faster rate than he could keep up. He thought back to the days when life seemed much simpler. He envied his younger brother Ader, hunting in the plains. He missed those days. He flipped the young stable master a gold piece. "Nothing happens to this horse, understand boy!", Kelvyn ordered. "Aye M'Lord", the young stable master repsonded. Kelvyn stepped out of the menacing fortress into the bitter Snowdonia air and shivered. Kelvyn smelled the frigid air around him. He only knew Tannir from his friendship with the young Crispian, but he intended on finding him. Crispian had offered him payment, but he coulnd't take money from his friend. He thought back to his conversation with Crispian. "If any are with him and should not see the rising of a new sun, I would understand.â€ Crspian had said. Kelvyn grinned. He planned on collecting payment nonetheless. Kelvyn leapt down the hill at full speed and entered the wilderness of Snowdonia. Off in the distance, he heard a faint shrill laughter. If only Kelvyn knew what waited for him and what her plan for him was. -----signature-----
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	D'Vena laughed her cruel laugh, for it had been too easy. The young infiltrator, Acermar, had fallen to her control with barely a thrust of thought. Certainly, relaxing her efforts on that wench of a paladin was unfortunate, but she could always come back to her later. Her eyes gazed outward with a glassy glaze as she exerted her controls over the newest toy, this Acermar. Tannir, the puplike fledgling that followed young Crispian aroud, was before him, tied securely. She moved her hand as if drawing a blade and was pleased when Acermar complied with her command. Tannir's eyes grew wide in fear and she could taste it. Yes, she thought, see your death coming. Her hideous laughter split from Acermar's mouth and filled the air, causing his three companions to shudder. Their employer had not been himself this day, and they too grew fearful. So much the better, D'Vena thought, so much the better. As Acermar poised over Tannir, D'Vena noticed the great level of resemblence to Crispian and Jashen. Why, this boy could almost be a brother to them! She stayed Acermar's hand and sent a new thought to him. "Bring this boy to me," she sent strongly, a compulsion more than a suggestion. Her last blond-toy had died in her fit of anger, but this would be a happy substitute. Acermar lowered his blade. "We leave soon," he said to his three mates. His hand caressed Tannir's face tenderly as a cruel smile crept over his lips, to mirror the smile of D'Vena. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas sat back in the small room the church had lent him. The chapel was in the Shadowed quarter, and a bit run down, which suited his purposes fine. He reviewed all that he had learned from the myriad of sources that one with a background like his could tap. Now, the reviewed them all. The list was short, but led to a few conclusions. The first, and foremost, was that Pompinâ€™s assault was not in Dâ€™Venaâ€™s style at all. She preferred discredit through political means. That had a long track record with him. She never, or rarely in the past, had directly assaulted anyone. So, Pompin did not fit with how she normally proceeded. Additionally, her household were either in hiding somewhere or accounted for. It seemed unlikely that she would suddenly appear within the precincts of Camelot and act in a fashion sure to draw attention to her. Second, and no less concerning, was that Arcalan was up to something, but it seemed to have no direct connection to Crispian other than her own political workings. That could possibly be dealt with, and Tobyas thought he could see how. It was also evident, from who had been seen where and when, that there was a connection between Arcalan and Ceowyr that had nothing to do with spiritual guidance. That last bit he filed away for future reference. Taking parchment from a drawer, he began to write. His hand was much better than many would have thought, considering he had been a prostitute at the time many had met him, or at least shortly before. Arcalan, We must meet at sometime to speak to each other. I know that you have your own ends for which you are working, and you cannot deny that. However, the damage you could do to the League, and to others, is substantial, as is the wrath you would bring upon yourself, and those you work for and with. I seek to find a middle-road where both can possibly exist. Tobyas Drakeward Cleric of the Church Sargent, St. Crispinâ€™s League He folded and sealed the letter, entrusting it to an acolyte to deliver to the Shadow Guild for when Arcalan next came. He would wait his time and keep his eyes out. There was a different game being played here than Dâ€Venaâ€™s own. -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The light of the Falls seemed to ebb and flow unlike the light of the mortal world. It's eerie purple shadows crept behind pillars and stairs carved out of the raw rock, long before mankind had ever existed. The sounds that eminated from unseen things filled people with dread... a long grinding screech or a faint whisper could be equally menacing in here. Arcalan was being punished. No matter how many minions she safely dispatched, soon something went wrong and she had to suffer the pain these demons were capable of dishing out. Many times she had been aided by the Holy men of Albion, friars and Clerics and Paladins, raising her back from the dead and healing her broken body. She feasted on the pain, swallowed it down in bitter gulps, glad her master was being this lenient. Worst of all each time she began afresh thinking her punishment had run it's course... building up some energy only to be dashed down when she least expected it. Hope was the greatest torture she could endure down here. ____________________________________ Finally she realised her own attonement was not enough. Enlisting the willing and generous help of Rhizzia and Ronal of the League, and master Bromton, she was able to gain access to the deeper areas. With her she brought Drae Loresinger, and Dwiader and Sissil of the Dragons of Avalon Guild. All came down - oblivious to being human sacrifices. Arcalan entreated them to help her, citing her great misfortune of late. Their hearts were warm and open, and they accepted the task of aiding her. Shrill screams rent the foul air, and the band of brave men and women cut through an seemingly endless stream of Dreamhaness and Lilispawns, in order to crave a path to their goal. Now deep in the tunnels of Darkness Falls, they came upon the most demented Necyomancers. Now hardly human, these people gibbered demented obscenities through clentched teeth, willing themsevles deeper into madness in exchange for power. Near at hand the essence shredders lay prowling. The Shredders could tear a soul apart as easily as they could tear flesh. Many who fell into their gaping maw did not live to see the bindstone, but were instead utterly rent, irreperably lost to the beasts of Hell. Now Arcalan knew she must feed her companions to them, that the Master might spare her further anguish. She bided her time, awaiting another group to depart the area, and seek safety further up. She gained the confidence of her companions by picking and choosing the best enemies from down here, ever mindful of the low growling of the Essence Shredders. Soon enough she was ready... "If we capture but one shredder we can kill it" she purred "Think what a great deed that would be!" She stroked their ego, fueled their confidence in themselves. "We can manage it.. and even if more came, I can root them to the spot while you kill one" She turned to the powerful Cleric beside her "Besides, Rhizzia can call back our souls should we die, she'll be granted that power in this of all places" she swept in the enormous hall with a wave of her arm. Murmurs of agreement came like music to her ears. They had fallen for the bait. The Master no doubt watched her.. she would be spared the eternal agony of being shredded, in return for the pain of these valient souls. Tough choice, she smirked to herself. "I am ready" bellowed the faithful paladin Bromton, and the trusting Dwiader looked upon Arcalan with a mixture of fear and trust. He would prove himself in her eyes, he knew there could be no backing down in front of her. Arcalan briefly wondered if Dwiader could be spared, but dismissed the thought as sentimental foolishness. No one came before herself, that was the first rule. The air swirled with magic as the spell hit the essence shredder. It ceased it's blind lumbering in the pit and began to charge towards it's prey. With a cry of horror the group saw a second detatch itself from the shadows and run to join the feast. Arcalan stepped forward and prepared to be cut down - "For Albion!" she moaned as the needlelike teeth closed on her leg, but in her mind she screamed "For my Master! Take them, and let this sacrifice appease your wrath!" As she fell to the floor, life draining away, she caught sight of the brilliant robes of a wizard, and the shining aura of a paladin runnign towards them. Her mind barely grasped the the problem they would pose as the darkness snuffed out her life. _____________________________________ When she awoke she was lying in a makeshift camp in a safe conrer of the Falls. She shuddered horribly, and knew that these wounds would take much longer to heal. Her companions were likewise around her, having been saved by the intervention of Ain and Hypnos, who fate had had pass them at the crucial moment. The sacrifice had been stopped, and Arcalan felt miserable. Her body ached with it's beatings, and her powers were very weak after the shredders had begun their work on her. She cursed the Darkness. While all the companions seemed to be overjoyed at their escape from oblivion, and happy to tend their wounds, Arcalan could not share their fraternal comforting. Even the tender hand of Dwiader resting on her shoulder was soon shook off. Their warm friendship burned her ...ate at the pit of her stomach and filled her with endless self-pity. How could they shrug off such a threat simply with a communal ale and a kind look to each other?! How could they extend such to her.. HER, who had betrayed them thus? Stupid wretched fools! She loathed them right now, and desired to be one of them more than anything else in the world. The conflicting emotions clawed at her, until tears ran down her cheeks and she sook with sobbing like a child. A comforting arm was placed around her, and a blanket upon her. And she passed into a deep sleep. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The door to Azi's cell opened suddenly. From outside she heard, "Thank you, Brother." A tall monk stepped into the cell. His hood was draw low over his face, and all she could see was a strong chin, and a pair of lips that seemed well used to smiling. "Brother," she nodded in greeting to him. He smiled broadly, confirming her earlier speculation. She was sitting in the only chair in the small cell, and he waved at her to stay as he took a seat on the edge of her bed. She could sense that D'vena's attentions were elsewhere. "Good evening Child," he said. He sounded Avalonian. He certainly had the build, tall and thin. "I have been told that you have been facing some very trying times. Would you care to talk about it." She wasn't certain why, but she felt that she could trust this monk. Haltingly she began to tell him about Crispian's troubles, the book, and what had happened with Jashen. She held back on Tobyas, and some of the harsher truths about the curse. Likewise she couldn't bring herself to talk about D'vena. The monk nodded slowly as she unfolded the tale. He smiled sympathetically. "Remember lass, The Lord is your shepard. You need know no fear. The gods never give us a task that they know we can not succeed." She almost missed the plural on god. She looked up at the monk. He smiled again at her as he stood to leave. "You have been a vessel of divinity, and yet, it was your own strength that allowed you to break Corrath's hold on you and break the New King's curse. It is that strength that shall help you prevail against D'vena. Look within and look to your faith." "Who are you?" she asked. "A friend of any that walk in the light." The door shut behind him, but he quickly reappeared in the window to her cell. His hand lightly resting on it. That was when she noticed the ring. The band was platinum, and the willow done in emeralds, but it was the twin of the one she had seen Crispian wearing. "By the by," he said, looking in at her, "The dress is safe. Enjoy it." He stepped away from the door. She leapt up to look for him, calling out, "Wait!" but he was already gone. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi lowered herself back into the chair. She had watched the sun's light spill into the small window and move across the floor all afternoon. She sighed softly. That had been her only entertainment aside from praying and listening to D'vena's madness, which seemed to have trailed off somewhere... She shook her head, trying to remember the name that had been signed on the letter that had come with the dress that the monk, no, the elf, had mentioned. No matter, she thought, too mentally exhausted to even care. Well, his were kind words, though a little naive. The light grew gray and dim, and the abbey bells rang out to signal mass. Her door opened cautiously and a young monk bowed in at her. "Come to prayer, milady?" His frightened tone caused Azi's heart to ache with shame. She knew that rumors must be flying by now, rumors of her bribed entry to the abbey and the wicked cackling and howling that emanated from her guarded and locked door. The monk flinched as she rose and nodded, clasping her prayer beads in her hands before her. In the small chapel, among the stares and whispers of monks and sisters and postulates, Azi pulled her veil over her face and bowed her head modestly in prayer. She clung to the elf's words and prayed fervently for guidance. A grin stretched her lips, and she reached to her side for a blade that wasn't there. Tannir's young and frightened face flashed before her, and as quickly as it had come, it was gone. She heard D'vena's commands to someone else and sucked in a breath as if she had felt a blow from the glacier giant himself. Suddenly, the answer came to her. Her heart was racing, but she remained silent. She thought deep into herself, pushing herself toward the evil, instead of away from it. After awhile, a familiar room opened up before her, the room that she had been teleported to when she had opened the book. The room where D'vena had worked her evil witchery. Azi's heart thudded, her pulse raced with a jolt of power. She forced her thoughts even closer to the evil, closer to D'vena. She had been right when she told Jashen that D'vena had been too hasty. It was as if Azi herself were standing in D'vena's place. Azaeli pushed harder still, resolving to test her new discovery. With all of her will, she moved her hand to her forehead and crossed herself, and yelped with triumph when she saw D'vena's hand make the same exact motions. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Despite the fact that he worked at an open table, few approached the Seneschal of the West that morning. His look was stormy and combative. He was making notes on a scroll and seemed very absorbed. About mid-morning, a man did approach him and begin a conservation in hushed tones. â€œLord, you have one in your number who troubles me,â€ the man said as he sat opposite Crispian. He was Saracen, but tall for a moor. His clothing was expensive and well-tailored. â€œYou have this Arcalan woman whom has taken refuge in your numbers. She isâ€¦unsavory.â€ He paused. â€œSheâ€™s ours,â€™ Crispian said flatly, not even looking up from his work. â€œBut, your Lordship, she isâ€¦vexing to some of good faith.â€ Setting his quill down calmly, Crispian looked at the man with such ice it would have stopped a charging Tangler horde. â€œAnd she is ours. The League giveth not itâ€™s pledge lightly, good sir. I will have no ill spoken against one of ours by any who is not of us. Are we clear?â€ His tone was flat and frigid. â€œWe have accepted any burden she brings as our own, and rightly do I consider her Sister to me, as do all others.â€ He managed such brutal coldness in his voice that the Saracen paled, rising mid-way through and bowing. His departure followed on Crispianâ€™s move back to his work. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The great and merciful quiet of the rest of the day pleased Crispian immensely. The last weeks of hecticness, coupled with the apparent diversion of Dâ€™Venaâ€™s attentions had allowed him to really bask in the quiet of the day. Not that he had not been busy. A good Seneschal was always busy, he thought with a small grin. He rose from his work place and made his way quietly out of the hall and into the street. The chain coif and drab cloak he wore, coupled with the heavy blue robe, kept him unrecognized. The streets hummed with a certain activity, a kind of droning as the work of Camelot went on. He smiled at that, tossing a gold to a woman hawking ale from Cotswold. Why not? At least she was not just begging coins. The slight smile did not leave his face as he made his way into busy market place. There was a face he was seeking and it did not take him long to find it. â€œMikiel!â€ he greeted the lad quietly. â€œDid you do what I asked?â€ The boy beamed at the young knight and nodded. Crispian tousled his hair. â€œGood lad, and here is what I promised,â€ he said as he handed over a heavy purse of coins. â€œNow remember, slowly this must go, but I want it constant, every day, at all times, aye?â€ Again the boy grinned and nodded. For an urchin, he was a good lad, and far better than most. Crispian had no doubt that the few hundred silvers would not be ill spent. Mikiel had a sense of honor. Too bad that he was a mute lad, or much could have come of him. Then, with a frown, Crispian pressed on to the shop of Judan Hammerfel. He found Judan at the forge as always these days. He bowed deep to him as the smith-paladin looked up from his work. â€œYoung Crispian!â€ he called in his great voice. â€œHow fare ye? I want ye to know, I put no stock in these rumors,â€ he held out his large hand as he talked and Crispian shook it. â€œâ€˜Tis hard to be under the curse of a heathen!â€ he declared with a spat into his fire. â€œBut ye are bearinâ€™ up well, Azi tells me. She is proud of you,â€ he said with raised brows. His daughter was not given to flights of passion and her belief in this young armsman spoke much of him. â€œâ€˜Tis about her that I have come, sir,â€ Crispian said awkwardly. He reached under the robe he wore and took out Aziâ€™s sword, once her mothers. â€œShe asked my brother to pass this to you, but I have taken that on myself.â€ He saw Judanâ€™s face fall. His dear wife just months gone, and now this strange knight bringing him the sword again. â€œNay, Sir, it is not that!â€ Crispian rushed out. â€œShe has taken a rest at an abbey and is well. She did not want to risk this in the good monkâ€™s keeping and bid Jashen to bear it home to you, is all.â€ Judanâ€™s relief made a transformation of his face. â€œAH! â€˜Tis her new vows, no doubt,â€ he said as he lovingly took the sword from Crispian. â€œShe was so dedicated to magic,â€ he said with a proud smile, â€œand to turn paladin after so much study!â€ His eyes glistened. â€œMay ye have a daughter to make you so proud,â€ he beamed, â€œor a son,â€ came his quick amendment. â€œWhich abbey is it, that I may send word?â€ Crispianâ€™s heart froze, for he had not counted on this question. He could not say the truth and have Judan find his daughter possessed and mad right at hand! â€œâ€˜Tis the Abbey of St. Ilitad, Sir, deep in Cornwall,â€ he lied, hating it but hating the truth more. â€œMy cousin, Lynis, is a friar from that house. You could send word care of him.â€ â€œVery well.â€ Judan turned business like for a moment. â€œWhere is your armor, lad? Do you need some fitted? I made Aziâ€™s mâ€™self, ye know.â€ The thought of Azi, and her armor, made Crispian blush slightly. â€œPerhaps in short time, Sir. My current armor is quite good.â€ He bowed. â€œDuty calls me back, though, sir.â€ Judan patted his back with a thanks and Crispian was off. Later that day, strange stories began to make their way around the market squares and taverns. Had Sir Crispian really given nearly 200 gold to the church in penance? What was this that he had PAID the barkeeps to serve him no more and call the guard if he got unruly? Or that he had installed Pompin at the Leagueâ€™s own hall for recovery and invited all to come see him, if they so wished? Camelot soon was buzzing with the news. At the Guild of Shadows, Jashen stood. He was stripped of his chain, and his fine swords lay on the table. â€œYe sure of this lad?â€ the trainer asked. Jashen nodded. â€œAye, I am quit of being a mercenary. Teach me the ways of stealth,â€ he said. With a sigh, the trainer started, not hopeful that a mercenary trained could be much of an infiltrator. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Toorc crouched by the entrance to the Halls of the Corrupt and breathed the fresh air anew. That was indeed a place of dread they'd discovered, but he was the better for having come out here. He squinted into the sunlight and took a gulp of water, as the cool breeze ruffled his robes. He longed for news of Crispian, and of Azi's return to the League, but he knew he could not leave till he had found what he was looking for. News had reached him of some disturbing finds in Hibernia and even from midguard there were rumours... did all this tie together? And if so where could the wellspring be found that he might cut it off at the head? Ah unanswered questions were his bread and wine. "Master Toorc, we've left three of them in there" said a young scout approaching him. "Three? Right, the break is over, we're not leaving stragglers to be picked off out here" and Toorc shouldered his pack, and made ready to descend once more into the foul dungeon. News of Crispian would have to wait, but he hoped to hear more of him soon. _____________________________________ Blissfully unaware of why he was recieving such good fortune Pompin had been living well from the table of the League. His comfort was well attended to, and all for seemingly nothing? His luck was in. Only the slight malise that still afflicted him bothered him greatly. He confessed he couldn't put it into words, but if pressed on the subject he'd have said it felt as though his skin was like putting on someone elses glove. It was odd indeed, and a general weariness oft overcame him. Still good cheer and endless service did wonders for a man in his condition, and he found that he had more than a year of news to reaccquaint himself with, which occupied his mind. In the early afternoon, just after a spot of rather heavy rain, Pompin recieved a visitor. The aqua-blue sheen of chainmail could be made out beneath his tunic, and it contrasted with his fiery red hair. A large heavy symbol of the Trinity hung about his neck, and he fingered it even as he came into the room. "My son," said Ceowyr "I'd like a moment to talk with you" Pompin smiled cheerfully to this Cleric, no doubt checking on his well being, and the door to his room swung shut. -----signature-----
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{old}Mya_Love Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	(nt) -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The clerics at the alter stopped thier prayers abruptly, and all turned to look at the young stranger who had yelped out in the middle of mass. Azaeli lost her concentration and turned a deep crimson, bowing her head even lower. She could feel the cleric's eyes linger on her with obvious disdain at the interruption, but he eventually continued and all fell back into the sombre rhythm of the mass. Inside, though, Azi reeled with hope. What did this mean? Could she control D'vena? How far could she take it? Then another thought drifted into her mind. Again she closed her eyes and clasped her hands before her and began to think of Crispian. The mass droned on in the background as she pushed herself, keeping only Crispian in her thoughts. A sudden warmth passed through her, a feeling of freedom and happiness at the forefront. She leaned into it with all of her attention. The sun was low against her back, and the bustle of the city was around her. "Crispian," she said silently, pushing her thoughts toward him. The Abbey bells tolled, and a hand was on her shoulder. She snapped back to herself in the emptied chapel. The young monk who had brought her out of her room stood over her. "Time to go back, miss." He said softly, and Azi rose to follow. -----signature-----
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ayslyn smiled down from where he sat in the rafters of the chapel. Brother Joseph was leading Azi back to her cell. The other brothers had all filed out, leaving the chapel empty. Quietly, he dropped to the floor and aproached the altar. A statue of the messiah looked benevelantly down on the chapel. He eyed the statue for a while. "I am sure that you know what you have in her," he said to the statue, "Were she not so devoted to you, I might have tried to win her over to my own Lady. Watch over her, and Crispian. They are good people." He knelt and crossed himself. As he stood again, he pulled his hood back up to conceal his features. He left the chapel, humming to himself. -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<mid-weekend bump> -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((OOC: Azi you tease I thought more of the story was ready Hopefully Crispian is penning the final chapters as we speak <holds breath>)) -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen had been fighting hard for two days in the swamp when he returned to his new trainer and became an infiltrator. He then returned to Camelot. He was sheepish about finding Crispian, but find him he did. "Hello, Crispian," he said quietly. "I'd like to come back." His leather armor creaked with its newness. Crispian looked up at his little brother and smirked. He had to shake his head. "What did you do?" "What I said I was going to do, Cris. I have become an infiltrator. I have to be able to REALLY ferret out information if I am to be of any service to the League," he said with passion, sliding into a seat opposite Crispian. "I failed once already, and I won't fail you all again!" He held Crispian's eyes a moment. "Or you personally, Cris." Crispian looked at this little brother and sighed, "Well, I could see other people doing worse than you, Jash, at least I can trust you fully." He put his hand out. "But, you have to re-earn your rank, just like any other would." Jashen nodded. "And I shall!" He grasped his brother's hand. "Well, brother, let's go great the League!" They rose and walked to the Guild Hall together. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	D'Vena gaped at her hand. It had moved in a gesture blessing, one she had not made herself in years. It was as if...another had made her do it. She did not like that at all. She stormed through the fastness to her inner sanctum and pondered this event. Who could have the power to defy or invade HER??? She toyed with her golden haired toy, and turned it over in her mind. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The Vestusta Abbey was just outside the north gates to the city of Camelot, but it still had taken Tobyas most of the day to get everything in readiness for his small trip out there. He had with him two clerics of his acquaintance, a sorcerer of some repute and two large men who worked from time to time loading carts and wagons in the merchant district. He knew that if Azi allowed him to perform the ceremony he had in mind, a lesser type of exorcism, then he would need their help. If she did not, he was only out some coin, of which he had plenty these days. The monk at the gate bowed low to allow him enter, and he swept through into the chapel area where most of the public was allowed. Without missing a step, he proceeded to the cloister gate and pounded on it, his mailed fist causing the metal to ring out in a harsh tone. Immediately, a monk presented himself. â€œBlessing to you, father. How may we be of service?â€ he muttered as he bowed his head in greeting. He was an older monk, which caused Tobyas a moment of pause. â€œI have been sent from Lady Wynchell to check on Azaeli Hammerfel, daughter of Judan the Smith.â€ He snapped his fingers and one of his companions presented him a scroll with pendent seals hanging from the bottom and heavy wax signet impressions by a bold signature. â€œI would inspect her quarters to bring her father comfort,â€ he said as he handed the scroll over. â€œI beg forgiveness, father, but she is not permitted visitors.â€ The monkâ€™s eyes glanced to the scroll a bit nervously. â€œPlease bring our assurances to Lady Wynchell that all is well for Lady Hammerfel, and she is comfortable.â€ Tobyas threw the monk his most haughty look. â€œLady Wynchell did not ask for YOUR assurances, brother, but for my report. If I do not gain entry, I shall report your disobedience to her as the Kingâ€™s High Cleric, and YOU can face her charges.â€ His voice never rose beyond conversational, and he was pleased to hear keys being fumbled with. â€œI am glad the Almighty has gifted you with wisdom, my son,â€ he said as he swept through the gate as it opened and ushered his companions in as well. The monk look startled but led him to the room they had given Azi. Tobyas was a little surprised to see two hulking monks at the door, obviously farm boys who found God. He fixed the two of them with a frosty gaze. â€œI will interview Lady Hammerfel privately, with my own guards to stand watch, brothers. Your vigilance is a credit to you.â€ He blessed them both as his companions moved them away from the door and took up station. With a deep breath, he lifted the latch and went in, hearing it close behind him and the lock being rehasped. Azi sat in a simple robe on a narrow cot. The chamber was bare of any adornment, save the symbol of holy Mother Church on the wall. She looked up a moment, and surprised was quickly followed by joy on her face as the identity of her visitor registered. Tobyas himself could not suppress a small grin as he settled on the single stool within the chamber. His cloak dragged the floor and his armor clinked and slid against the leather hauberk. â€œForgive me for not coming sooner,â€ he said in greeting as he sat. Aziâ€™s shock was quickly beaten by her curiosity. Jashen had said he would tell no one. â€œTobyas..how did you know?" She asked. She had hoped that none would see her thus, and Tobyas was a special case. He grinned sheepishly. â€œI can find out a lot when I want to Azi,â€ he said in a quiet but offhanded way. â€œWhy did they let you in? I told them not to let anyone in!â€ she said, a not of protest entering her voice as she wrung her hands in worry. Who else would they let in to see her like this, she now thought. What if Pappa had come? She could not know that Crispian and Jashen had been telling all that she was deep in the wilds of Lyonesse, in an abbey hard to reach in the best of times. Toby could not help the grin that spread on his face. Azi had the impression of a lad who had just pulled off a grand gaff, and gotten clean away with it. â€˜Lady Wynchell did send me, of course,â€ he said as the grin made his cheeks dimple and dance. He looked such the youth at times like this, and hardly a battle-cleric who had seen more than twenty two battles already, or one who could call the fallen back to life. Azi smoothed her robes in a gesture so reminiscent of her days as a wizard. Her blue eyes met Tobyâ€™s in question. She did not know how much she dare to reveal even to this close friend. She did not look as though she were going to speak and simply waited. Soon, Toby felt himself start to blush under the scrutiny. â€œI was not always a cleric, and I have not forgotten my old friends,â€ he said calmly, knowing he would not have to explain more to Azi. â€œNor have they me,â€ he added, thinking to those beyond the outer door. Azi shook her head slightly. â€œForgive me, Tobyas. I forget sometimes.â€ She smiled fondly at him. â€œYouâ€™ve changed so much. And,â€ she cast her eyes down, â€œforgive me my harsh words.â€ She shuddered slightly. Tobyas shook his head slowly, his coppery hair catching the light. â€œNo forgiveness needed, Azi. But, we must deal with what troubles you.â€ Azi could detect the slight change in his manner as he moved from friend to cleric and believer of the Church. Azi drew a deep and shaking breath. She had been considering this very thing since Jashen had brought her here. What could be done? And what should be done? â€œI am not certain that we can, or that we should,â€ she said. Her eyes moved from Toby, to her hands, back to Toby. â€œIs the door locked?â€ She seemed very disjointed. â€œAye,â€ Tobyas said with a tight grin, not wanting his concerns to rush to the surface. â€œBut not by monks.â€ â€œBy who then?â€ Azi shot at him harshly. The door must be guarded. It must be, she thought. â€œSome old friends of mine,â€ Toby said as his eyes crinkled up in concern. Azi was nodding her agreement, but did not seem fully in control of herself. He leaned forward, his face becoming serene; his eyes fixed on Aziâ€™s. He sat more straight upon his stool, his shoulders squaring. â€œLook at me, Azaeli Hammerfel,â€ he said calmly, yet in a compelling tone. Aziâ€™s hands worked in her lap, balling and unballing. She raised her tear filled eyes to meet Tobyasâ€™s. His were calm lakes of a crystal blue compared to her own at this moment. She sensed his calm and his peace. He reached into a pouch at his belt without breaking eye contact. â€œDo you believe in this, Azaeli Hammerefel?â€ he asked her as he brought into their field of vision his holy symbol. It was plain, worked in silver with fine craftsmanship, but no gems winked from in the wan light of the chamber. Aziâ€™s eyes widened slightly at the gravity with which Tobyas asked her this question. â€œYes, I do, father,â€ she said, not the automatic response so often given, but a true and heart-felt reply. Without changing his tone, he went on. â€œAnd do you accept the Almighty as your creator and empowerer?â€ His tone was compelling, but not forceful; firm yet not imperious. â€œI do, Tobyas, I do!â€ Azi whispered as tears came to her eyes and fell down her cheeks. This was Tobyas in role she had not seen him in, and one at which he showed none of the playfulness that he usually did. He was more serious than she normally saw him. Again, his hand dipped in his pouch, coming out with two vials that he deftly opened. His fingers dipped into each, coming up with a thin sheen of oil on each. The smell of holy chrism and myrrh filled the air of the small chamber as he rose and crossed to her. â€œAzaeli Hammerfel, I anoint you as Daughter of the Almighty, born into this world by His Grace and blessed in His Sight.â€ He marked her then with holy signs on the forehead, the lips, and at the opening of her robe. â€œI bless you,â€ he intoned calmly, â€œin His name, and His power, as his instrument and vessel.â€ He paused to recap the oils. â€œWait!â€ Azi cried as she grabbed Tobyasâ€™s hand. â€œWait. You cannot yet.â€ She felt he had more in store than just a simple blessing, but there was much she had not told him yet, much they had yet to discuss. â€œWhy not, dear Azi?â€ he asked, his kind eyes startled. He had every intention now of going forward with the ritual. â€œTobyas,â€ Azi began, â€œhow much do you know of the curse?â€ Her words fell into the air and froze Tobyasâ€™ action as he looked at her, suddenly uneasy at her asking, and cautious of how to proceed. --to be continued-- -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas bowed his head. He was not prepared for Azi to press him for what he knew of this curse. He had rather freely spent his gold this past day or two and had learned much of Dâ€™Vena and how she worked. â€œMore than most,â€ he said in a hushed tone, â€œsave perhaps Crispian and Dâ€™Vena now. I have researched much.â€ Knowing the secret vices of some in Camelot had paid off during this period. There were many that would exchange information for keeping their appetites secret. Azi took both of his hands in hers and leaned in close to him. Her voice was a mere whisper in the quiet chamber. â€œI have discovered something.â€ Her hushed tone and excited manner sent a shiver through him. Tobyas took a moment to speed a silent prayer off. â€œAye, Azi?â€ he said, allowing surprise to show, â€œwhat is it?â€ He kept any hint of dread from his expression. Azi closed her eyes tight as she fought to retain her control. It was a great danger to tread so close to Dâ€™Venaâ€™s attention if she were not fully prepared to handle what may come with it. She became more tense than excited as she sat in quiet. Sensing her unease, Tobyas stood and placed his hands on her head. He gathered the power given him by his consecration to the Almighty. â€œI call on the Almighty,â€ he said in a prayerful tone, â€œto give you strength of soul and purpose, knowing His love fully and sharing it to full measure.â€ He made the holy sign over her. â€œMay He grant this prayer.â€ Azi felt a wash of calm suffuse her. The struggle was tipped in her advantage. She sighed deeply. â€œThank you,â€ she said with a tight smile. â€œHave you spoken to Crispian this day?â€ she asked, her voice tight with excitement and a hint of dread. Her fingers rolled the sleeve of one arm tight, then loose, then tight again in her nervousness. Tobyas shook his head as he sat down again. â€œNo, I have not spoken to him in a day or two,â€ he said calmly. He did not wish to show to Azi the pain he felt when circumstances rather than events separated him and Crispian. He did not like burying himself away from the League and the hunt, but that is what this last day had demanded. Azi sighed, resting her hands on her lap with an effort. â€œI fear what I have to tell you may be sinful, or evil, Tobyas.â€ She could not bring herself to meet his eyes, and stared at her now idle hands in her lap. Would he condemn her for what she had done while at prayer yesterday? Was it sacrilege? Toby smiled gently. â€œThen who better to tell, Azi?â€ He took a purple stole from his pouch, kissed it, and draped it over his shoulders. â€œI am prepared to hear your confession, Azi.â€ He settled himself into a posture of prayer, raising one hand to shield her from his view. Azi bowed her head. â€œIn chapel last night,â€ she said in bare more than a whisper, â€œmy mind was not on prayer in the least.â€ She swallowed nervously, hesitating to explain exactly what it was she had been doing when she should have been praying. What the monks must already think, and she was about to tell Tobyas! He nodded. â€œGo on,â€ he urged her quietly. I started off in prayer, surely,â€ she continued. But I had a vision of Tannir,â€ she went on, seeing the image of the young blond squire to Crispian clearly, â€œand I reached to my sideâ€¦and I heard Dâ€™Venaâ€™s vile laughter,â€ her voice quivered in a near physical shudder. â€œInstead of pulling away from it, Tobyas, I went toward it.â€ Although still low, her voice throbbed with the emotion of the moment. Her hands rested flat on her lap, but they seemed to almost be curling in a casting gesture. â€œI pushed toward it,â€ she breathed into the silence. Tobyas tried to keep himself focused. â€œAnd then?â€ he prodded when she did not continue. What had she done? What gamble had she made? â€œLook to the Almighty for your strength, Azi, and He shall give it to you,â€ he said to encourage her to continue on. She took a deep breath to brace herself and went on with her tale. â€œWhen I got closer,â€ she said in that quiet tone, â€œI pushed more.â€ A shudder swept through her. â€œI crossed myself, Tobyas, and so did Dâ€™Vena. Tobyâ€™s hand fell as he turned to look at her, his eyes blinking in surprise. â€œYou did WHAT?â€ he asked, his voice no longer fully controlled and much excitement filling his words. Azi nodded, not looking at him, though she could feel his shock. â€œYou heard me correctly,â€ she assured him. Toby rose from the stool and paced the small chamber. â€œAre you farkinâ€™ kidding me?â€ he asked incredulously. â€œYOU got a moment of control?â€ he shot at her. She nodded, not speaking. â€œCould you do it again?â€ he asked. His excitement at that was uncontainable, for it could mean avoiding a conflict with Dâ€™Vena on her terrain. He did not envy any that were on that fight if it came to it. Azi shook her head. â€œI haven't tried. I tried to do it with Crispian, and I felt myself with him, but I was distracted before I could test it.â€ She did not mention that the distraction was the monk calling her back to chambers. Toby chuckled as he too shook his head. â€œYou channeled through Dâ€™Vena to Crispian?â€ he asked her with a bit of awe in his voice. â€œYou have a great mind to match your great heart, Azi,â€ he said. â€œI know not,â€ she said, â€œnot for certain anyway.â€ She wished she could give him more for certain. But so much of it all was so tenuous. She did not know if she dared to try it again. If she did, she did not know how successful it would be. She drew a breath and steadied herself. â€œItâ€™s exhausting, Tobyas. Even with that much, I slept this whole day.â€ She rubbed at her eyes. â€œI had to lean on the young monk who brought me back.â€ Tobyas nodded slowly. â€œSuch battles are exhausting, Azaeli Hammerfel. I was prepared to offer you such a battle this night,â€ he said, feeling a bit guilty that he would offer such a fight now that he knew what the day before had held for her. Azi looked up and met his gaze. He held trust and warmth in it for her that was obvious. â€œYou know that I shall do anything I can. Anything you ask,â€ she said with a tight smile. Tobyas looked at her and weighed out what he should say next. Should he tell her of what he fully planned? Moreover, would she agree? -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas paused in thought for a moment and then decided to press on. â€œBeyond that door are some friends of mine who would aid me in clensing you of D'Vena's touch, if you are up to the fight.â€ He knew he was asking much, especially in light of her confession about touching and manipulating Dâ€™Vena. However, he did not feel that the option he had should not be explored. He felt that Azi deserved to hear about it. â€œCleanse me?â€ she asked in a shocked voice. â€œBut this may be the only way to get to her!â€ Her urgency at the need to continue this course was immediately evident. Toby looked into her eyes, holding none of his emotions in check. â€œI am more concerned with saving you while we can,â€ he said in little more than a breath. His eyes danced between hers. Azi shook her head. â€œNo, Tobyas, I wonâ€™t allow it yet.â€ She knew that she was walking a dangerous line. Her practice at magic had exposed her to many such dangers. This time, in truth, she knew the risks. â€œThe Lord works in mysterious ways, this is a gift that has been given to me.â€ Tobyas sighed and closed his eyes. â€œI feared you would say that,â€ he answered her. Azi grabbed his hands again. â€œCertainly you agree?â€ she asked in a voice that made him look at her. He could see her feelings of hope, and the weight of the danger, in her eyes. As ever, they were radiant with passion and life, though the joy that drew so many to Azi was gone. In its place was temper and steel. He swallowed heavily, considering his next words with care. â€œI am not sure,â€ he admitted. His brows nettled as he looked at her. â€œI have lost one I love already to this, Azi.â€ He cared not that he shared how he felt with Azi, for she knew his truth. â€œNow, you ask me to risk a second?â€ The pain in his expression made Azi draw back slightly. She smiled sadly at him. â€œHe is not lost, Tobyas. He is doing rather well.â€ Her brief touch, although not enough for interaction, had allowed her glimpse of the peace Crispian felt. Toby shrugged. â€œLost to me, Azi. In the way I hoped to have him, at one time.â€ From his expression Azi knew he spoke of Crispian not as friend or liege lord. Tobyas had come to the conclusion that what he wanted most from Crispian would probably not happen at the end of it all, when the curse was done. That had been the most bitter thing about this curse for him to face. When it was played out, he would have a good friend, a boon companion. But the passion they had twice shared would be gone. Azi placed her hand on his shoulder. â€œAs difficult as it may seem, dear friend, that too was a gift.â€ She looked at him as one who has seen her love die once, even though it was just an illusion. Tobyas lowered his gaze for a moment, not wanting to look into her eyes any longer. Then, with a sigh, he looked up. â€œBut, let us get back to the matter of you, Azi,â€ he said as he stepped back into his role of Cleric and spiritual shepherd. â€œYes,â€ she said, her eyes holding his for a moment in compassion before she again averted them. â€œI would see you free of this taint, dear Azi, but only if you consent to it.â€ He knew he could perform the ritual completely against her will. However, it would be much more difficult and it would cause Azi some great pain if he did. And there was the possiblity of her resenting him for it later. Azi shook her head. â€œI cannot,â€ she whispered. â€œNot yet.â€ Her fingers twined over themselves in her lap. Would he not see the good she could do? Or did he choose not to? â€œI understand, I suppose,â€ he said with a nod, although his face was drawn in a frown. â€œYou cannot run from such a battle as this, can you?â€ He knew her to be a warrior in nature from the first, and in profession now. He also knew some of the ongoings in Hibernia that surrounded Azi. No, she could not and would not walk from this fight. â€œNot when it can be of so much aid to those I care for,â€ she said in a rush. Her words tumbled out with the relief that Tobyas would not try to stop her. â€œThough, I wish I could. Truly.â€ He saw in her eyes that she would walk away, but not while Crispian, whom she loved in her way, hung in the balance. It was a moment of ephinany for Tobyas. He suddenly realized that Azi did not feel in the least romantically for Crispian. Her love for him was the pure love that Tobyas himself hoped to be able to master. Again, Toby sighed bitterly. â€œI would not see you locked in here Azi, but can you understand the risk of being out there?â€ He hoped she did. â€œYes, Tobyas.â€ She nodded grimly. â€œYes. I have asked my door locked and gaurded.â€ Tears again welled in her eyes. Her hands gestured to the bare desk. â€œI will not even allow myself parchment and quill, or visitors.â€ She had tasted Dâ€™Venaâ€™s mind under its control and on her own. The sheer vileness of it made her shudder again. In exasperation, Toby sighed and slapped his hand on his thigh. Battle he had become used to, even comfortable with. He could make a decisive difference there. But here, in this arena, he felt ill equipped. â€œI wish I could do something more for you, Azi.â€ He shook his head. â€œIn faith and love, I do wish it.â€ Azi closed her eyes and calmed herself. The decision seemed to have been made in her favor. â€œAs do I,â€ she said as she looked up. â€œ It has been such a short time, and already I miss the League hall and my Pappa so much. And I fear Jashen will hate me forever, or at least will never see me the same again. I wonder if I will ever be the same again...â€ Her voice trailed off. Toby nodded to her, taking her hand. â€œOf course you shall be restored, Azi,â€ he reassured her. He himself was not fully sure of the fact, but clerics were supposed to assure people that all would be right. Tobyas held a firm belief that even the bad things were part of the Almightyâ€™s plan. He knew that those who pretended supreme knowledge of the Almighty knew not his heart and will. They were just blind to all that the love of the Almighty could encompass. To Toby, that meant that suffering was sometimes part of the divine plan of things. â€œTobyas,â€ she said quietly, â€œam I making the right choice?â€ She blessed herself. â€œWould you do the same thing? She fixed him with a gaze he could not turn from, nor did he want to. He grinned wryly at her. He had already made that choice himself. â€œI, too, would die for him and his peace of mind, Azi, of called to,â€ he said. Facing the ultimate price had ever been a worry. With the knowledge of Dâ€™Vena he now held, he knew the possibility was very real. And that if called, he would do it. Azi shook her head. Her eyes burned with a fire of conviction and certainty. â€œNay, Tobyas,â€ she said. â€œnot for him. Itâ€™s not for him that I act. It is for Right. For Good, that must triumph over her evils.â€ The glow of faith radiated from her. â€œAnd I wish not to be martyred by death, but to succeed by living, with all of the power I have to do so.â€ Her hand moved to bless herself subconsciously as she dedicated herself to this fight. â€œThen, dear Sister, how do you think we should proceed? Locking you away in here?â€ He gestured at the small chamber in which they sat. The bare oaken walls devoid of all art, all festive signs. â€œIn this small monkâ€™s room?â€ Azi was taken aback, her enthusiasm checked. â€œI cannot trust my own strength enough to let myself wander free,â€ she said, sounding a bit defeated. What paladin had not the strength of the Lord to bolster them? â€œPerhaps if I had a ward to accompany me everywhere, but I'd hate to place that burden on anyone.â€ Tobyas smiled. Azi was a cunning crafter of spells indeed! He had just seen her weave one worthy of a great sorcerer! And she had charmed her target well and true! How could he not answer the request she had just spoken, even though she did not phrase it so! She would have done quite well for herself in the Shadow Guild if that had been her calling. He smiled, as he could see nothing else to do at the moment. â€œSister, would you accept me as your spiritual advisor and guardian?â€ he asked. â€œTrusting that I will use what powers I can to do things rightly by you?â€ Azi nodded as a guileless smile came to her. â€œI would! I would trust you, Tobyas, if you would take on that burden!â€ Her face bore no deception in it, and Toby was sure that she had not being trying to get the result she did. But, he had to admire her smoothness just the same. Well it was that she were not a crafter like her father, for many coins would be parted with by people who were none the wiser. He continued to smile at her but put a bit more piety into his manner. â€œThe Burden would be light, Sister, and I would trust in the Almighty to aid me with it.â€ He crossed himself in blessing. â€œAnd a few hired muscles.â€ He tipped his head at Aziâ€™s change in expression. â€œJust being practical.â€ Azi swallowed in fear a moment and smoothed her robes again. â€œIndeed, it is wise,â€ she said quietly. â€œThough, it is sad for me to think myself such a threat.â€ Her chin trembled slightly. â€œThink it more that my concern is great enough to know my own limitations,â€ Toby said, placing his hand over hers. She nodded. â€œI understand, of course.â€ She looked to the narrow window in her room. â€œAh, it will be good to be outside again!â€ The day of being so forceful pent up, even if it were for her own good, had been too close to the time spent in Corrothâ€™s tower for Azi to be happy with it. Tobyas leaned back against the table. â€œBut, you must lodge as I lodge,â€ he cautioned. â€œAnd go no where unattended.â€ She nodded, a mixed look of acceptance and misery on her face. â€œYou must not allow me to do ANYTHING unattended,â€ she said firmly. â€œEven if I insist.â€ She turned her eyes to his. He smiled a friendly smile. â€œYou can count on it, Azi,â€ he said. He thought of the two he would employ to escort her. Of course, he would have to spend some money to make them more presentable, but they would make Azi look like the Lady she was proving herself to be day after day. She sighed. â€œIt is far too much to ask of you,â€ she said with a shake of her head, long blond hair hiding part of her face. â€œI should stay.â€ Her tone was one of resignation, and it hurt Toby to hear the sudden turn in feeling from her. â€œNay,â€ he said with a shake of his head and hand placed on hers again. â€œTis not too much, or I would not have offered.â€ His eyes smiled at her though his expression was serious. He would not see her in here withering and locked away if he could help her. Now, he felt he could even if they did not do the ceremony to break the bond with Dâ€™Vena. Azi nodded. â€œIt shall work, I think.â€ A smile slowly came to her face, one of peace. â€œThough, the short time in the abbey has helped me. I wish had spent time here before.â€ Her smile continued in place. Tobyas looked about at the bare walls. â€œI have never been here before,â€ he said with a small smile. This was quite a way to make the first time acquaintence of the famed Abbey at Vestusta! Lies and deceit to see a dear friend! Maybe one day, he would come here in retreat. â€œI used to come here,â€ Azi said, a tone of recollection in her voice, â€œto get medinces for Pappa, when he was not well.â€ Those long years of torment had been her first trial with magic misused. And this abbey had been a small island of hope during that time. â€œThe brothers would give me little flower wreaths for my hair.â€ Her hands smoothed her hair on the sides of her head. Toby rose, offering his hand to her. â€œCome, now,â€ he said gently. â€œA room is prepared at the Church where I am working.â€ He helped her from the narrow cot. â€œThe brothers here are known for their kindness,â€ he finished quietly. Azi rose with grace from the narrow cot, merely resting her hand on Tobyâ€™s. Her smile turned bittersweet. â€œYet, now, they see me as the mad woman whose room should be avoided.â€ A slight look of pain flicked over her face. Toby offered her a smile again. â€œThere are worst things to be seen as, trust me,â€ he said. His past had been a time of being seen in the worst light by many, and merely as an object by others. That look that some who recognized him from his past could still hurt. Although, he himself tried to let it, and did not let anyone hold his past over him. He had been ever honest about it then, and he would remain so now. Azi sneered, control shifting for a moment. â€œYou would know!â€ She laughed. It was the first time Toby had heard her laugh, and he registered it with relief. â€œAye, I would,â€ he said, looking away from her for a moment. With a shake of her head, and a wince of pain, Azi reasserted herself. â€œSorry,â€ she said quietly. She knew her vigilance would not be able to slip so easily once she was outside of here, or she would act on the behalf of one she would not want to be an agent for. Toby shrugged. â€œI worry not about it, Azi.â€ He moved toward the door. â€œI was what I was, and I am what I am.â€ He stopped at the door and turned to her again. Although he did not let on, he weighed what he saw there. The risk was worth it, he decided again. Azi nodded in agreement. â€œIndeed, that is true for all of us.â€ She swept the room with a wistful gaze. While for only a brief time, she had been safe here. But she would not reside in safety while a dear friend was in danger. â€œSo, shall we leave this place?â€ She favored Toby with a dazzling smile. He offered her his arm, as he had seen Crispian do another morning what seemed like ages ago. â€œIf it please you, milady,â€ he said with a slight bow of his head. Azi paused, looking about the small room again. She bent and pulled the sheets on the bed straight, and put the stool back where it had been. When the room was restored, she turned to him. â€œWe must find my things. I should leave a donation,â€ she said as she placed her hand upon the elbow of Tobyasâ€™s arm. â€œAye,â€ he said as he wrapped on the door. â€œWe shall. Come now,â€ he continued to her as the door opened. â€œLeave this place and come with me to fight the battle that the Almighty has before us.â€ They passed through the narrow portal and were bracketed by his companions. â€œI pray we have the strength,â€ Azi said as they stepped out onto the balcony walked way. Toby gave her a lot of feigned shock. â€œTogether?â€ he quipped. â€œWho could stand against us?â€ He could not repress a smile of mirth. Azi gigged. â€œAh, Toby, you have always been so sweet.â€ She gave him another one of those smiles. â€œSuch a treasured friend to make me smile so.â€ As they made their was to where her gear was stored, he smiled at her. â€œâ€™Twas you who first showed me no bias, Azi. How can I forget that?â€ She had amazed him then and he prayed that her inner strength would still be so amazing, for he feared that the confrontation ahead of them would be great indeed. Not a battle to be fought by the faint of heart. â€œHow could I forget the young acolyte who cried at the river while I bestowed the power of earth on him?â€ Azi recalled that day so clearly. â€œIt seems so long ago.â€ Toby smiled. â€œIt was indeed,â€ he said. Though only a short time had indeed passed. It seemed that so much had occurred. Surely, it could not have been bare weeks passed now. Azi took a deep breath of her first outside air. â€œWhere should we go now?â€ she asked him calmly, though anxiety began to nibble at her mind. â€œI have a church in town that I am aiding at,â€ he said. He did not think that Azi needed to know the pastor was once a sorcerer, nor did she need to know the warding that was done on the chamber she would occupy. Azi eyed the two hulking brutes who fell in with them warily. â€œI will follow you then,â€ she said demurely. The two lads were strapping and menacing, though neither made a sound nor did aught else as they walked to Camelot. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Through agitated crowds of Camelot's streets, Azi fought to keep up with Tobyas. Something had happened on the frontier, she heard an armsman spit and swear as his sorcerer friend mentioned Midgard. With the two men hulking beside her, Azi ducked and weaved around crowds of battered countrymen. A wry grin tugged at her mouth. She was out. Free. A low cackle escaped her lips as she looked ahead to Tobyas, grateful of the angry city noise that masked it. OOC /bump past the silliness :P -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas continued to lead her through the city, his two friends close behind. The other two companions, cleric and sorcerer, had left their company when they entered the city. The city was a riot of activity in the shock of losing one of the relics back to Midgard. There was a push and shove not normally found on the main streets, and in counter-point, the Shadow Quarter was empty and quiet, from the great Guild complex inward. Tobyas watched everywhere for danger, just as he would on the hunt. The church was run down and well past its prime. The stones needed tuck-pointing and the woodwork needed to be cleaned, sanded and oiled. The statuary was badly flecked, with what little paint remained peeling where it had not faded already. Even the garth was over grown with weeds and in need of care. All in all, it fit perfectly were it was at. A lay brother opened the gate to the yard for the procession as they passed in. A slight movement of his hand confirmed that all preparations were complete. Toby resisted the urge to rub his eyes. Today had been a tiring day. He had started early with reports from his sources, whom he then told to scatter according to the level of exposure they had had. Then, he had set to work. There were many people to contact for what needed to be done, but he worked with efficiency. He never talked to two people where one could get the job done and relied on people he trusted to take care of things he knew they could handle. The most chilling episode of the day played itself back in his mind as they entered the church compound. He had met the old man at his insistence. The area had been in the upscale quarter of the city, near to the Round Table and the palace gate. The man was bent and wizened, old even for an Alvalonian. His head stooped almost to below his shoulders and his eyes were white with film. When he spoke, the remains of two or three teeth could be seen and his breath was close to death itself. He had waved Tobyas to a chair as he entered, showing that sight was a sense one could live without. â€œSit there, boy,â€ he had said in a thin and reedy voice. â€œYou have asked many questions of one I once tutored, to my shame.â€ As he spoke, fleck of spittle came to rest on the varnished table in front of him. â€œYou seek knowledge of her work, do you? Pious but foolish you are!â€ he barked at the end. His milky eyes fixed on Tobyas as he sat there. â€œWhy do you want to know of her?â€ His gnarled hands gripped a cup as he took a slurping drink from it. â€œBroth, all I can stomach anymore.â€ Tobyas considered his options. He could lie, or tell the truth, or a mixture of the two. Why did it seem that the old man would know his answers for what they were? â€œShe has meddled in the affairs of friends of mine, sir,â€ he said respectfully. â€œI seek to free them from her influence.â€ The milky eyes never left his face and Tobyas grew uncomfortable. â€œShe is wicked with evil,â€ the old man said in his piping voice. â€œYou will find only death where she touches, and never joy.â€ He wiped at his mouth with a stained rag. â€œBut these friends, tell me of them.â€ He again paused expectantly, motioning with his hand that Toby should go on when he paused. â€œThey are two great and noble people, these friends. I seek to free them. Can you aid me, sir?â€ he finished politely, not sure the old man was not wasting his time. Could this help Crispian and Azi? He had precious little time to lose here. â€œWho are your friends, young man? Name them for me.â€ â€œOne is called Crispian Pontiff, and the other is Azaeli Hammerfel.â€ Toby felt much humbled in saying the names, but he knew not why. â€œThe smithâ€™s girl? I remember her. The other, I do not know.â€ He finished a bit dismissively. â€œBut I have heard his name in a troubling manner. You are his, ah, friend, yes?â€ Tobyas blanched. That was not really a question. It was just short of statement. â€œYes, I am,â€ he said, keeping his voice from cracking just slightly. â€œYou seek to battle a great sorceress, you know that, boy?â€ the old man shot at him. â€œFor an unseemly love and a woman touched by enchantment magic already!â€ His words were acid thrown upon him, Tobyas felt. â€œAnd you, but a pupling cleric yourself!â€ Tobyas started to respond, to tell of the ceremony he had learned from Wynchell, and of his thoughts, but his tongue seemed unable to move. â€œYou must bind them in magic, boy. Great magic. Then, and only then, can you seek to battle Dâ€™Vena!â€ A chain of spittle clung to his lips as he spoke, and Tobyas could only think of a string controlling a marionetteâ€™s mouth. â€œWhere would you bind them so?â€ His milk-filmed eyes bored into Tobyas, causing him to shift in his seat. â€œAt the church where I am assigned. We have many rooms from when it was a more prosperous area,â€ he said quietly. Plans seemed to leap into his mind half-formed and he felt the full formation happen as he thought them. â€œI will need to go there. Take me.â€ He rose unsteadily, leaning on a black wood staff. â€œI shall prepare a room or two for you that even Dâ€™Vena cannot penetrate.â€ His hand came down on Tobyasâ€™s forearm and he was surprised at the steel in the grip. â€œI squeeze a leather ball,â€ the old man said, again nearly reading his thoughts. The old man worked hard throughout the afternoon, casting spells of forgetting and deception on the rooms. Finally, he had Tobyas bless both chambers and then they sealed them. â€œYour friends must enter each first!â€ he had cautioned with a bony finger. â€œNo one else may go in before them. The spell must be set to them!â€ As the small group approached the door, Tobyas swallowed his nervousness away. The door was opened by Brother Mynock and held wide. Toby turned to Azi with a smile. â€œHere it is, Azi. I have prayers to attend for the parish, but will return with food later.â€ Azi took a tentative step toward it and then felt two hands push her in, and the door slammed shut. The waves of magic began to strike at her, hitting the Dâ€™Vena presence with a force that caused her to gasp in pain. â€œNO! Not you! You are dead! Nekolia! You are dead!â€ Azi screamed in pain for a moment, and then collapsed to the floor. Outside the door, Toby looked at the two guards. â€œNo one in or out until vespers, friends.â€ And he took up a seat to do vigil at the chamber door, awaiting the toll of the cathedral bell that would signal the end of evening prayers. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The next day saw Azi arise early. Her head throbbed with a thousand pounding hammers, and her feet ached for no apparent reason. She was able to pull herself up from where she lay, to see that a little supper had been left for her from the night before. As she arose a blanket, no doubt draped by Tobyas, slipped from her shoulders. Tobyas himself was not in the sparsely furnished room. Indeed little save a cot, chair and washstand were here. It was clearly not going to be an easy accomidation, and Azi prayed that she hadn't simply been moved from one cell to another. By and by she ate the food left for her, washed herself and redressed. Wane light filtered in from the rainy day outside, and drak grey clouds moved ponderously across the sky. They matched Azi's mood. As she regained her strength sitting in the chair with the blanket across her lap, she came to realise that the malevolant influence was gone. Her mind moved clearly for the first time in a few days, and no trace of D'Vena was to be found. She wept with joy. Her mind and soul were untroubled, and even the physical pain of her body was passing slowly. Slowly she got to her feet and went to the door. She knocked and a gruff voice answered her back "Wait a moment" The door creaked open a fraction. One of the burly guards stood watch in front of her. "Feeling better?" he rumbled. "Much" she smiled weakly. ________________________________ To her surprise and slight fear she found visitors were waiting for her downstairs. Tobyas had been forced to absent himself from the church in rather a hurry, but had promised to return as quickly as possible. Azi knew she could not tie a Cleric to one spot without the Church calling on his aid, but she still prayed he'd return soon. She felt better under his care. Not wishing to test her newfound safety too soon, and certainly not without Toby nearby, Azi asked for them to be sent up to her. The old man downstairs eyed the visitors suspiciously, and allowed them entry. _________________________________ Azi's heart welled with joy to see Tashtego and Nalewin drop by, their familiar faces brought a leap of joy into her heart such as she had missed in the last few days. Behind them a third visitor made her way into the small room. The lithe body of Arcalan was dressed in bright red and purple hues, and Azi instantly associated the red with that of the Fallen Angels. The slow winding movements of Arcalan conjured images of the Serpent in Eden, and Azi repressed a shudder. "Are you free of your malady, milady?" Arcalan asked. Azi glared at her, feeling vulnerable and repulsed. Her steel shrap mind was brought into focus, and she regained control of herself for what she knew may be a difficult test. "Quite well thank you, and thanks to Toby" "Excellent" Arcalan hissed "For rumours you were .. ah... afflicted with the same madness Crispian has suffered of late, abounded" "Crispian is not mad" Azi interjected. "I've not heard these rumours" said Tashtego "What do people say of Lord Crispian?" "Only that he's alfflicted by some illness of the mind" Arcalan persued "And with Azi here taking unwell.." "I'm fine Arcalan. Your concern is much appreciated" Azi cut her off before she ran on. "Yes" Arcalan began "Your cousine Kanna was very very worried. She had heard you were dragged away to the abbey aha, 'kicking and screaming like a madwoman' as one soul put it" she waited to see if the news of her forced imprisonment being known more publically would startle Azi. Her malicious jibe was unrewarded, for Azi sat perfectly calm. She even smiled. "AH Kanna can run off with her imagination" she laughed "especially when the ale is flowing!" Tashtego and Nalewin joined in the laughter, but Arcalan's laugh was hollow. "Well then, I'm glad you're better Azi," Arcalan continued "and hopefully Jashen is not afflicted either" "Jashen?" Azi's face became a mass of concern "What news of him?" "Only that he's hung up his blades" Arcalan enjoyed dropping catapult shots onto the weakened Azi "But of course I thought YOU of all people.. being so close to him, would know" "We are no more than good friends Arcalan, so I advise you not to smirk like that" "Oh Azi!" Arcalan managed to produce a blush "I didn't intend it to be taken >that< way" A glower from Azi and looks from Nalewin told her this wouldn't float. Time to let the remark pass. She needed them to suspect her just enough, but not too much. "Well the young Mercenary has become a spy. He's training as an infiltraitor. Of course I'm surprised he didn't discuss it with you first" "Arcalan, I have been away a few days now" Azi replied calmly "so he has not had a chance to speak with me" "I'm sure he shall, with haste now you are back with us" "I don't know" Azi whispered almost to herself "I hope he shall" Arcalan glared at Azi, and her obvious attachment to Jashen. Ha! The little wench and her shining armor, she'd crush her like an insect when the time was right. "I understood of course you have a romantic other though Azi" Arcalan stated more than asked " So I'm sure Jashen would never allow himself to feel for you in the wrong way" As it slipped out Arcalan knew she had made a mistake. Nalewin cottoned onto her persuit of the subject and gave her a stern look. Arcalan droped her eyes. "Yes Arcalan I have found true love. Ascot and I are, however, none of your business" Azi snapped out. Something in her could not resist saying "I hope you find love like that one day" Arcalan grimaced at the impertinant wench. "Why thank y-ou" she stammered out "I'll keep my nose out of your affairs" Azi smiled sweetly, knowing that had stung Arcalan "Oh please don't take it the wrong way, but Ascot and I have things to talk over before we discuss our life with others" "Well anyway" Arcalan grasped the thread of the conversation again "Jashen has become an infiltraitor. And to celebrate his new outlook he and I have buried our past disagreements" "He always was talaented at information gathering" said Azi, pleased to hear of him "And I'm glad you two have ended your quarrels" "Oh yes" said Arcalan haughtily "He apologised to me" The sound of Nalewin leaning back on a chair squeaked in the room, and in the distance thunder rumbled. "For what?" blurted out Azi, hardly able to stop herself from laughing at Arcalan's self-rightiousness. Arcalan ignored her. "Perhaps once Lord Crispian is returned to his right mind" Azi shot her another look "we too can settle our differences" It was time for the ace. "Of course" Arcalan continued "I never wanted to fight with them so..." she paused and a look of confusion crossed her face. "It's just that sometimes I feel as though..." "You were hit with the Enchanting Staff of Discontent?" quipped tashtego "I feel.. I feel lightheaded" Arcalan spoke unsteadily and rose shakily from her perch on the side of the cot. Nalewin looked at her with concern. "What's happening?" Arcalan glanced around in panic, as though this whole room were a new place, and she had no idea how she came to be there. Arcalan swooned as nalewin stood up to grab her, and then lay her prone upon the floor. Azi jumped up. "Arcalan?" she asked "ARCALAN?" her voice yelled out, shaken by this unknown twist. Arcalan lay on the floor, and deep deep inside her mind she smiled a satisfied smile. Yes, she thought, this ought to connvince them. Everything was going in her favour once more. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Suppressing a jolt of panic over the crumpled form of Arcalan lying on the stone floor of her little chamber, Azi looked to Tashtego and then to Nalewin. "Oh dear..." Azi said softly, suddenly feeling meek next to the other two, â€œLetâ€™s get her to her quarters.â€ Without a second thought, Azi led Tashtego and Nalewin through the streets to the guild hall. "Hail Mithralin!" Azi called to the first face she saw as they entered. Tashtego slumped Arcalan onto a bench and bowed to Azi, excusing himself. Mithralin stared wide-eyed at the crumpled form of Arcalan as the highlander left the hall. "What happened to Arcalan?â€ Mithralin gasped, standing to tower over Azaeli with her slender form. Azi shook her head, still feeling fairly empty and confused. â€œI know not.â€ She said gravely, not wanting to explain, â€œshe passed out.â€ Nalewin looked down at Arcalan, then turned her gaze to Azi. â€œI hate to leave, but I must.â€ She said softly. â€œFarewell all, for now!" Azaeli nodded, still watching Arcalanâ€™s crumpled form. "Farewell, Nalewin." She managed softly through her own distraction. "I will get some water." Mithralin said after a moment, her grey eyes flicking from Arcalan to Azi, hoping to help somehow. "Nay, Mith, help me take her to her room." Azi said "Okay,â€ the avalonian answered, eager to help. The two of them had little trouble getting Arcalan upstairs and into her small bed, and after they had tucked her in, Mithralin excused herself to find some aid. Azi remained. She wanted to be there when Arcalan woke, something was terribly odd about all of this. She settled herself into a lavish chair and peered around Arcalanâ€™s quarters, feeling chilled and out of place. Parchment was stacked on a little writing desk, and various tomes and candles were arranged neatly on her bedside table. Azi fought the dishonorable urge to snoop, and instead turned her thoughts inward. Dâ€™venaâ€™s hold had slipped, or at least Azi hadnâ€™t felt her presence since Tobyas had taken her from the abbey. It was odd, her head was cleared of almost everything, even recent memories. She could barely remember what the room had looked like that she had slept in the night before. She closed her eyes and said a prayer for guidance, trying to push again toward the wicked energy. Before she could find it though, Aziâ€™s eyelids fluttered softly at the distant sound of heavy boots ringing on the stair. â€œ. . .passed out.â€ She heard Mithralinâ€™s voice as if it came from the opposite side of a long tunnel. A hand rested on her shoulder, and a deep voice spoke. â€œAzi? Is this true?â€ She opened her eyes to see Crispian standing over her, looking first at Arcalan and then peering into Aziâ€™s own eyes with question, then a sort of distant intensity and concern. Azi blinked and peered behind him to see a small crowd of League brothers and sisters at his heels, peering into the tiny room for a look. Disoriented for a moment, Azi sat straight in her chair and looked from one face to another, finally resting on Crispianâ€™s with a look of confusion. â€œMithralin has said that Arcalan was brought here unconcious, what happened?â€ His concerned tone was as genuine as it would have been for any member of the League. He crossed the room and dropped onto Arcalanâ€™s writing stool, rubbing his forehead. Azi sighed, understanding that he felt a responsibility for Arcalan as the leader of her guild. She clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking, fully aware of the group of sisters and brothers peering in from the doorway. As his gaze drifted from Arcalan to Azi, she explained what had happened during Arcalanâ€™s visit. ". . . then she said something about being sorry that she argued so often, and I touched her, and that is when she began to feel faint." She said, finally coming to the end. Crispian scowled and strode to Arcalanâ€™s bedside. His mood was distracted to say the least, Azi noted, though it wouldnâ€™t have been obvious to those who werenâ€™t as close to him as she had become. "Were you wearing a glove at the time?" Heathyr, a young friar, piped in. Azi looked down at the blue robes she had dressed in that morning. "Nay Heathyr," she answered quietly, her gaze stuck on Crispian. He turned to look at her, and she saw hundreds of thoughts behind his eyes. His jaw clenched so quickly that anyone else would have missed it, and Azi failed to force a slight smile. For a moment her thoughts turned to two nights ago when she had tried to send her thoughts to him. She was anxious to ask him about it, and she knew he had questions for her, but of course this was not the time. Instead, feeling helpless once more, she looked to him for support. â€œDear Azi,â€ he said softly, clasping his hands before him, â€œcould you offer us a blessing please?" Azi fought back a sigh. No support from him, she must be the pillar yet again. The group of Leaguers milled in the doorway, bowing their heads at the Seneschalâ€™s lead. She nodded, taking a few moments to muster the words. "May we all have strength to overcome the evils which we face today, and love and trust in our brothers and sisters of the League, especially Arcalan, who has great need of our love." She blushed, suddenly very self-conscious and almost ashamed of the way she had battered the blessing. This room made her uneasy, as did that womanâ€™s presence, and now she was saying a blessing for her? Azi shuddered at the selfish thought and pushed it away as Crispian raised his gaze to meet hers. â€œIs it not customary to invoke the Almighty?" He asked, a little too judgementally for Aziâ€™s taste. She didnâ€™t know, couldnâ€™t understand his tone. Was he accusing her? The group in the doorway shifted uneasily at the tension. â€œMy apologies.â€ Azi bowed her head, fighting tears, â€œI am not quite myself, milord." Footsteps rang out in the hall downstairs, a muffled greeting drifted up to the small group. Heathyr called out excitedly: "Nydori! Good, someone with more healing experience than I." She ran down the stairs to greet her sister friar, leaving the tense room behind. As if reading into everyoneâ€™s unspoken thoughts, the scout Maijyor stepped forward and looked down at Arcalan. "I do not wish her death, even on one with a heart as black as she has." Crispian stood still, so quiet. Azi wondered what was going through his mind that distracted him so. "Nor do I.â€ She said softly,â€œThat is the last thing I wish." "Wait just a moment..â€ Maijyor continued, â€œI may have thought of something.. Arcalan was faint after you touched her without a glove, Azaeli?" "That's as I remember it, Maijyor.â€ She answered, suddenly doubtful even of her own memory. Two pairs of feet tramped up the stairs and Nydori and Heathyr peered in through the doorway. "Nydori,â€ Heathyr started, already forming her own version of what had happened, â€œis it not that some poisons require a catalyst to act?" She looked at the elder friar, "and either by themselves are harmless?" "Perhaps it is not the body, but the spirit that was ... affected." Altheah, a young wizard piped in. Maijyor looked carefully at Azi. "Would you have felt anything unusual while touching her? You are one of the holy orders, and perhaps she may be ailing from more than just a fainting spell.." Azi smiled to herself. Maijyor was a smart one. Altheah nodded at Maijyor and looked wide-eyed to Azi. "I cannot speak ill of a fellow sister of the League, Maijyor," she said softly, not wanting to sway anyoneâ€™s opinion of Arcalan just yet. She had no proof of the womanâ€™s evil save for her own feelings, and was not about to talk ill of her while she lay defenseless. "So I will not speak until we can talk with her." "I am not asking you to speak ill of her,â€ Maijyor said with respect, â€œI am merely thinking we should perhaps look into both the seen and the unseen while finding the cause of her problem. There is much evil in the land, she may have not been able to resist a spirit after..." "Azi, you simply touched her?" Crispianâ€™s sudden question almost made her jump. "I touched her arm, yes," she answered softly. "Yes Crispian, but I don't think that was what caused it.." "Azaeli is a paladin and she is a cabalist...â€ Althea said thoughtfully, â€œCan anyone detect damage to her spirit from contact with the holy warrior??" "Azi has touched Achou dozens of times," Crispian said, turning to look at Azi. "And Ascot," Azi murmured to herself. The two exchanged looks as the younger members discussed the possiblities back and forth. Azi and Crispian both knew that on some level, the obvious level, the group was right. But the two of them both knew Arcalan was up to something, and what better time to make her move than when all seemed to be getting back to normal for the League, for Crispian.. "Perhaps someone conversant in the spirit would be of aid. Another cabalist perhaps?" Heathyr said excitedly. "Jashin just became an infiltrator, correct?" Altheah took another stance, having heard of his quarrels with Arcalan. "Aye," Crispian said with distraction, his gaze still locked with Aziâ€™s, who shifted uncomfortably. " . . . and infiltrators deal in poisons, correct?" A suspicious look crossed the young friarâ€™s face. "He is at Witrin," Crispian answered firmly, dismissing the accusation before it even came to be one. "I wish Tobyas were here.â€ Azi wrung her hands in her lap, suddenly realizing the risk she had taken by even coming here. â€œHe would help greatly, and I've a few questions for him.." She pushed to remember the course of the previous night yet again, but could not. "He should be about shortly," Crispian smiled softly at her and crossed to the writing stool again. She met his smile with her own worried one as he reassured her, "Aye, I am sure he will be about later." â€œI shall wait here with Arcalan then." Azaeli drew her knees to her chin and smoothed her robes over them in an old habit, and Crispian favored her with a fond smile. "As shall I. Her condition is most unusual indeed." "Aye,â€ Mithralin said shyly from behind Altheah, â€œI have never seen anyone like this before - tis no simple fainting spell." "Aye,â€ Crispianâ€™s brow furrowed as he looked at Arcalanâ€™s rumpled form again, â€œtis most odd. Perhaps my aunt can look in on her as well." Heathyr, the young friar, scratched her head, a look of frustration crossing her face. â€œI'm a stick fighter, not a healer. Sorry I am of such poor assistance." â€œYou have tried your best, Heathyr." Crispian smiled, still looking at Arcalan, his thoughts still churning behind his eyes. The crowd of young brothers and sisters began to dissolve, Heathyr and Mithralin being the last to leave. They bowed to Crispian and made their way downstairs, their voices trailing after them. "Give me an opponent I can fight.. but this is beyond me." Heathyr said, then Mithralinâ€™s voice. "Aye Heathyr - tis no simple ailment that the lady has..." "I may even call on a friend who is powerful in healing.â€ Crispian muttered almost inaudibly, rubbing his brow in deep thought. He met Aziâ€™s questioning gaze and answered her unasked question distractedly â€œHmm? Oh, I know several powerful clerics." She nodded, leaving it at that. Azaeli knew he had many connections in the city, some even in the palace itself. He leaned back in his chair and looked at her. Now that the others had gone, he could ask the burning question that had been on his mind since he had entered and seen her there. "Azi, I thought you were at Vetusta?" Azi blushed deeply, a stone of dread formed in her stomach. She was suddenly very aware of her disobedience and the danger she was to everyone there. â€œI was.. but I left Vetusta in Tobyas' care." Crispian raised an eyebrow, and looked at her for the first time she could remember with mistrust. "And you are no longer? For I do not see him." The words stabbed her, but she knew he was right in asking. She lowered her feet to the floor and clenched the arms of the chair, the panic of her own freedom suddenly rising in her. "I left only to bring Arcalan here after she fainted. I could not find Tobyas to tell him." She lowered her head, refusing to meet his eyes. "Ah, well, perhaps waiting would be a good thing." He said warily. â€œI am terribly confused.." The words escaped her before she could hold them in check. Crispian had enough to worry about... â€œWhat is it, Azi?" His voice changed to hold a tender concern, but Azi took it as pity. "It is nothing,â€ She snapped, â€œI'm just overcome with everything that's happening.." "Aye,â€ he leaned back against the desk and ran his fingers through his ruffled blonde hair, â€œtis a heavy burden to handle. Have you been plagued since you found that Tome?" Another question that stabbed at her. What was he accusing her of? She had read the book for HIM! And now look at the mess it had gotten her into! â€œJashen told you of that?" It was a stupid question. "Of course." He answered softly, knowing that Azi was well aware that the two brothers shared everything. "Yes, I've been plagued Crispian..." she whispered, realizing that he was genuinely concerned, and not accusing her after all. The willow band on his finger caught Aziâ€™s eye in the dim light as Crispian pushed at it with his thumb. "How so, Azi?â€ â€œSimply put, I completely understand what you've been suffering these weeks." â€œYou do?" His eyes narrowed as she nodded in answer. "Then perhaps Tobyas is a good guardian for you." "Indeed you're right.â€ Her voice was a low whisper, and she leaned nearer to him in the little room. Finally, she could find out whether it was her imagination, or whether she had in fact been able to get through to him the other night. â€œTell me,â€ she started slowly, â€œyesterday when you were walking in the streets, did you feel anything unusual?" "There was a restlessness, but we had just lost a relic to Midgard." His eyes followed the line where the wall and ceiling met. Azi shook her head, realizing how much time had actually passed. "Nay I mean the day before, I'm sorry..when you were released." She cursed her own brain for being sluggish as Crispian smirked. â€œOh there were comments and all." Azaeli huffed. Her patience was wearing thin, â€œNo no not that, milord." "What, Azi? What are you thinking? Or did you notice?" "Notice?" She wasnâ€™t following him. "Aye, the day the King took my parole." She couldnâ€™t read the expression on his face, or follow what he was getting at at all.. â€œI mean,â€ she fought for the words, wondering why she was having such difficulty, â€œCrispian, inside..did you have any strange feelings?" "A certain feeling of peace in a way Azi," He smiled at her. Then she realized it, it wasnâ€™t that her mind was failing. It was the evil of the room, the evil emanating from the unconscious form sprawled on the little bed. She was drained by the fight of it. â€œThat is all I will say here, even if she is passed out." She heaved a deep sigh and looked sadly at her friend. "We can speak privately later then," he answered, equally distracted. Azi nodded. â€That would be best." And the two sat their vigil together, waiting for Arcalan to wake, or Tobyas to arrive, or a moment to break away. -----signature-----
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Dâ€™Vena stood in her tower room surveying Lyn Barfog below her. What an odd turn she was given to consider this day. Her playthings were not acting as they should. The young Briton lord, that Crispian, was calm and collected, focused on crafting his little swords in the city of Camelot. And her new pet, Azaeli Hammerfel, seemed to come and go in her mindâ€™s eye. That was unusual. Acermar had not presented Tannir onto her, either. And then, there was that strange little episode yesterday at the Leagueâ€™s Hall. Dâ€™Vena had never known a paladin who could smite down on with a touch. That troubled her. She was glad that she had been able to observe it. Her decision was reached as she thought. It was time to go to Camelot. She wanted to lay hands once more on her little paladin pet. She also needed to find this Arcalan woman. She was not part of Dâ€™Venaâ€™s plan and her actions disrupted it. She turned to the young Avalonian standing behind her and motioned him forward. He bowed deeply to her. She smiled. If only he did that out of true respect and not because of the powerful spell upon him. â€œMake ready for a trip. We shall go to Camelot. I will need, of course, to appear as a penitent, so that I am unknown.â€ Her fine hand again moved to dismiss him. Camelot. She had not been there in so long now, near to half a year. Who would she find that still lived there? Was that little mercenary wench still making her rounds of the men in the city? And her own dear daughter and that, that man she had been forced into marriage with. Would they be about? Rumor had reached her even in deep Lyn Barfog that Carrington Whitethorne, that vile cur of a creation, had dared to come home to Albion. She hoped that one was about. Or the Pig Farmer. Oh, she could have fun with him if he were about. Her new powers meant a good lesson in humility for the Lord High General. There was little to get in readiness before she departed. A penitent journeying to the city would not have her fine gowns, or coach. By mid-day, she and two retainers had left Barfog on mules. Others would follow later on horse with items of comfort and work for her. This peasant disguise would only be needed to gain entry into the city. Then, she could seek out an appropriate spot to establish her workbase. Yes. Camelot would good this time of year, she thought with a wicked smile. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas stormed about the little church. His friends stayed well clear of him and tried not to draw much attention to themselves. The young man they had known had no temper, but this new man had a steel at his core. They were either in awe or in shock at the moment. â€œYou just let them TAKE her?â€ he asked for the fifth or sixth time. â€œI cannot believe your stupid! What did I say? She STAYED here, until I could get Crispian here. Do you think I would lay a plan poorly, you stupid whoresons?â€ He wheeled on his two friends, who shrank. Between the anger so evident in his face and the well used mace swinging at his side, Tobyas presented a menace to them right now. â€œTell me again what they looked like. What names did you hear?â€ They recounted the tale slowly, with frequent stops for more questions. Tobyas grilled them for every word or phrase, any look or move that would illuminate what had happened here prior to the collapse of Arcalan. If he had not pressing matters to attend to, he would have gone straight to the Cabalist woman. She was making more trouble than Dâ€™Vena herself more time than not lately. Why would she not SEE that the issue was not whatever her little plans were? People were teetering with having their minds and souls ripped from them! â€œPrepare the chambers again, as instructed the first time. I shall see if I can get Azi to come back here, with honesty this time. Now, however, I have to go see a smith.â€ He donned his cloak and left, making his way to the shop of Judan Hammerfel. If there was one man in the city who knew Azi well, it was her Poppa. Toby thought he might be able to call on something from her past that could be a strength and focus to her now. The peril was getting greater, it seemed. There was some sort of a time frame to Dâ€™Venaâ€™s work, according to all her past behaviors. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen squinted into the rising sun over Caer Witrin. He was again on the high parapet with his trainer, who was explaining to him the nature of weilding two poisoned weapons at once. Jashen paid close attention, but he had a vague sense of unease about him. Something was deeply troubling Crispian. But what was it? -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arcalan came to in her room, watched over by Crispian and Azi. The storm that had been brewing earlier sounded in full swing now, and rain and hail poured into the streets below, washing the dirt and grime of the cobbles into the sewer channels. Great booms of thunder were heard every so often, and the air was chill and damp. "You've stood vigil over me?" Arcalan inquired "Aye" Said Crispian curtly "Tell me what happened" "Honestly Lord Crispian I know not. I merely had a fainting spell, I'm sure" "There was some talk of Azi having touched you when you thus fell?" Crispian pushed on. Azi averted her gaze, when Arcalan turned her eyes on her. "Really?" said Arcalan, sitting up somewhat. "No I have no recollection of that" As if that wench could fell her with a simple touch? HA! Arcalan could rend her flesh from her bones in seconds with a simple incantation. She was half angry half amused by the idea. It would cause speculation at least, and that would aid her cause. But for now, she must ensure D'Vena's defeat. Only through this could she regain the trust of the League. Some secret prepaerations must be made for the next phase of the plan, but once in place Arcalan must blend in quietly... She quickly summoned her mind back to the task at hand. "Good friends, if you'd leave me now, I would rest a little more. perhaps it was merely the long ride I had earlier today that fatigued me" she lied, "If Tobyas wishes to speak with me though I will happily accept his visit" Azi and Crispian saw their chance to leave, and knew Arcalan would be closely watched. "As you wish milady Arc" said Azi, standing up and making for the door "I'm glad now it is you who are feeling better" The two left Arcalan alone in her bedroom, where she pondered the effect of her fake fainting fit. Would they have realised she could thus control herself? Nay, naught but an Avalonian would realise the rigourous mental discipline she had. That meant she would have to be certain to stay clear of Mirashta. But other things pressed in on the moment. D'Vena must be found, and slain; a plan that gave Arcalan no small measure of comfort when she recalled how that Academy had rejected her... -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian looked at Azi in shock again. â€œYou made Dâ€™Vena do what?â€ His gray eyes, clear and unreddened by too much ale, held her blue. She wanted to shrink back, for he was in an intense mood and totally focused on her. They had been talking of this all night and yet he seemed to keep coming back to it. â€œShe blessed herself when I moved my hand.â€ Aziâ€™s response was one weary from the question. â€œAnd then I cast my thoughts to you, and almost saw you. That must have been about the time that you were being released.â€ Crispian sat back, his eyes never straying from Azi. â€œNow it makes sense. Dâ€™Vena has been distracted, and I have known that for a while now. These past few days. She must be switching her focuses. It must be that she cannot bend her mind to more than one subject at a time. Just like a field sorcerer cannot have more than one pet.â€ He stood and began pacing. Azi just wanted a short nap. She was amazed at how he could drive himself, but knew that she herself had been so driven at different times. He paced the narrow chamber, turning precisely on heel, and walked back. She could almost feel his mind working the possibilities over. â€œAzi, there is much we could do with this information, this contact ability you seem to have. Do you think you could try to push into her mind at a fixed time?â€ He picked up the single tankard of ale he had been drinking from this entire time and sipped at its diminished contents. â€œI think, if you can, we could cause her some havoc.â€ Azi closed her eyes. She did not know if she wanted to face the pain of that again, the vileness of the contact. â€œIf it would aid, I could try,â€ she said quietly. Now, at least, she knew why Crispian had been acting oddly toward her earlier. Jashen had again shown a great skill for gathering and passing on information. â€œBut, it is draining.â€ â€œI am thinking on that as well. Perhaps Tinowan can aid us, to some extent. He too masters mind magics.â€ He continued to pace, forming a plan in his mind as he would if trying to subdue a keep. It was high time to bring this fight to the enemy, if at all possible. He did not know what Arcalan was playing at, but Dâ€™Vena was clearly the greater foe now. â€œGo back to the church and get some sleep. We can talk more on this later.â€ Standing slow and smoothing her robes in the subconscious way that she did, Azi smiled slightly. â€œI am not sure if I will be in my own mind when next we talk,â€ she said sadly. â€œIf not, forgive me what I do.â€ She gave a slight bow and surrendered herself to the care of Lynis, who had just recently arrived. With a sadness, he followed her down the hall. Crispian again was once again amazed at Azi and her devotion. Her friendship had helped him so much during the darkest times of this battle. And on that one night in particular. He sighed as the door closed. He had to formulate some sort of plan, but would need help. With quill and parchment, he began to send out missive to enlist aid from some whom he knew and trusted. He could only hope the Almighty would grant him the power to pull off one desperate ploy to distract Dâ€™Vena. It was well into the morning when he sealed the last of the missives and traded his light armor for a dressing gown. A small fire laid in by Ardy was relaxing, as was the spiced wine the young highlander brought him. Crispian smiled as he watched the window grow lighter with the rising sun. It was a new day. A new hope was dawning for those tormented by Dâ€™Vena, and those who had been touched by her in the past. Yes, a new day for them all. The Seneschal of the West leaned back into the cushioned chair and dozed. Ardy removed the goblet of wine and set it aside, placing a heavy quilt over his lordâ€™s legs. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi waited until they were out of earshot of Crispian, then turned to Lynis. "Brother Lynis, I would ask a favor of you. If you refuse, I understand." Her heart pounded sadly, she prayed that he would agree to what she would ask. His eyes met hers calmly, holding a peaceful serenity as he nodded for her to continue. Azi choked back her emotions, trying to make the words come. It may be her last chance... "Might we stop at the smith's? I would like to let Pappa know I am well." Lynis bowed his head low, as if weighing the consequences of his agreeing or disagreeing. Finally, he nodded. "I see no harm in that, but I must be close at all times." He gestured with a slender hand to the streets that awaited them, and smiled kindly. Her heart leaping with joy for the first time in days, Azaeli rushed to the little townhouse with Lynis trying hard to keep up. She flung open the door and breathed in deeply. Home. A low fire crackled in the hearth, a crusted stewpot bubbled quietly over it. Mamma's sword hung beside Pappa's glowing one over the mantle. Through the door on the same wall came a bellowing laugh and jovial baritone voices. Azaeli smiled widely, adjusting her collar and running her fingers through her hair. She patted her face to try and look rested, and swept through the doorway into her pappa's little shop. Pappa stood with his back to her. Facing her was Kanna's father, a towering highland armsman, almost an uncle to her. His face lit up to see her, and Pappa turned. "Angel!" he bellowed, his face alight with utter joy. Before she knew it, she was smothered in a deep, sweaty embrace. Pappa lifted her up and swung her around, and Azi giggled like a child. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Judan beamed at his daughter as he caught her in a great hug. He set her back down and held her at armâ€™s length like he had not seen her in a very long time. â€œMy little Angel!â€ he said again. â€œYour friend, Crispian, came by. He said you were in retreat! I did not expect you home so soon!â€ Cort was already setting out a cup and saucer for tea. Elissabeth had been much the same way when she returned home and the gruff old highlander remembered. â€œWhat brings you back to me so soon?â€ Azi hesitated. Her love for her Pappa knew few bounds, but how much did she dare to share? So close on the end of the affair in Hibernia, and so soon after Mammaâ€™s death? â€œThings have been hard, Pappa,â€ she started quietly, but found that she could not go on. Had she been too long from Tobyasâ€™ room? â€œI,â€ she started, only to find her tongue halting in her mouth. A quiet â€˜not yet, girlâ€™ whispered harshly in her mind and her eyes grew panicked. â€œLittle Azi,â€ Cort spoke as he moved to her side. He had seen her look so before. â€œTâ€™ere be somemat wrong here, Judan!â€ he snapped as he took hold of her. She was stiff and awkward in her movements. â€œâ€™Tis again that damned elf! Cinnae he stay dead, like he should?â€ Cortâ€™s voice was a harsh snarl and his eyes near to murder. The whole matter with Corroth had cost him dearly, and here was Azi, almost a daughter to him, caught in something like it again. Lynis was pressed into a bad situation. He knew that these two men, able warriors and still in prime form of mind and body would want some explanation, and he was the obvious explainer. Judan looked to his daughter and then to the Friar. His eyes, though calm, carried the edge of man who has seen much battle and was accustomed to making fast decision and living with the result. With great intent, Lynis folded his hands into the sleeves of this friarâ€™s robe and bowed his head slightly. â€œGreat Sir,â€ he said in a calm and measured tone, â€œplease know that neither I nor those whose patronage I have had anything to do with wronging your daughter.â€ He raised his head to look at Judan and saw the storm of emotions playing in the older manâ€™s face. â€œLord Crispian, my liege and cousin, has but the highest esteem and regard for your daughter.â€ Cortâ€™s head snapped up at the name. â€œYe mean that drunkard of a Liard, who fawns around witâ€™ a young cleric boy?â€ he said as a scowl twisted his face. â€œHe be no fit company for Azi, and if te King were true te his own laws, the man woulâ€™ be in te stock!â€ Judan was already shaking his head as Cort spoke. He had known Crispian before Azi had, and even before he became an important man in the Realm. Judan had observed the changes in him. Once free of his own malady, through which Azi had suffered, his observations had been even more keen. He had talked to all the merchants and masters of the crafts in town. He knew his daughterâ€™s judgement was sound in this matter and that some affliction lay heavy on Crispian. â€œWhat has your Liege done to aid my daughter?â€ he asked, even as he lifted Azi with little effort to a backed chair. Her eyes told him she had things to say, and also indicated that she could not. â€œWhat manner of remedy is he seeking?â€ Lynis met the older warriorâ€™s eyes. He, as most of Camelot, knew Judan Hammerfel by reputation. Lynisâ€™s family had along association with the Church and so great a paladin had many tales told about him. He decided to risk it all on a gamble and trust in the Lord. Luck, like ale, could go good or bad, and the man using either had to know when he had had enough. â€œSir, I would bare you no falsehood, please know. Crispian has bent his entire will of purpose to this matter, for what aids Azi will surely also aid him. I know also that Tobyas, a young cleric in our ranks, has made arrangements to befuddle this malaise which does overlie your daughter.â€ Although his voice was calm, and nearly musical, he saw that not all he said sat well with Judan. â€œYou may not bare me false, Brother Lynis,â€ he said mildly, â€œbut your Liege has. My daughter shall be under my care, as I was once in hers.â€ His expression was grave and Lynis knew in an instant that this fight was lost. He wondered if Azi had meant this outcome when she had brought them here. â€œYou may go now.â€ So flat was the look he gave Lynis that he did not oppose him, but bowed and turned to leave. He sped a silent prayer for Azi to the Almighty and prepared himself to face Crispian, who would probably not be pleased. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Dâ€™Vena sat beside the warming fire at Snowdonia Station, having completed the first stage of her pilgrimage. So far, the rouse had held and none had challenged her and her travelling companions. A small smiled played over her lips as she fingered her statuettes. She turned the small blond male figure in her hand, stroking the golden hair lightly. Then she turned to her newest, holding it up. The fine spun golden hair cascaded down its back and small opals winked blue from the eyes. She held it to her lips and began to whisper. This one she could enjoy some. Her eyes closed as her mind pressed outward and found the formerly elusive touch. She nudged it, stopping speech. All the images she saw were immediately known to her. That was one thing she liked about touching a mind. You got to learn so much, so quickly. â€œNot yet, girl,â€ she whispered, and clasped the figurine tightly. She chuckled to herself as she watched and heard it all. So, Crispian was preparing something? And that little boy-toy Tobyas had power in the Church now? Ah, well. Foes before had had power as well. She had dealt with most of them successfully, and would again. The death of the Briton Lord would be slow, if she could manage it. If not, a fast death suited her just as well. Once his young deceiving seducer was gone, she could resume her efforts to bring down the Red Lions and their acursed leader, Arguyle MacFadden. Oh, yes, and Carrington was indeed back in Albion. How she would enjoy his suffering. Eventually, she knew, the Cleric would find himself a new woman. And then she would strike. As her mind turned over all of this, she noticed for the first time that so many of her problems were with golden-haired people. Maybe, when her power was full again, and the Master delivered as promised, she would just do away with them all. That should end her problems! A near hideous laugh started to erupt from her, but she stifled it when she remembered where she was. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	"Not yet, girl," a harsh whisper along with a rush of foulness in her mind. Azi grasped onto it, driving herself toward it. Cort moved toward her, took hold of her. Someone spoke, Lynis, and she was lifted gently into Pappa's chair. She was aware of things happening around her, but they were distant and unfocused. Her eyes rested on Pappa, but looked through him as she pushed toward D'vena again. It was safe here, with the people she loved. A perfect chance to test again. She closed her eyes as the men continued thier discussion, driving into the dark of her mind where she knew she would find the wicked woman. Suddenly, she was very cold. Chill wind whipped around her. She opened her eyes to see two hands, scabbed, slender, not her own, warming over a fire. She pushed harder into D'vena's mind, felt her malice, but no thoughts came to her. Azi held her concentration and peered out at her surroundings. D'vena was outdoors! At a station! She gazed out to see a bindstone, and Albion's guards milling about in the cold. It was not a place she was familiar with. D'vena cackled wildly, inwardly. Her body shook to hold it in. What was this woman doing? Out in public? Did she forget she is a fugitive? She certainly is mad! Azi drove herself futher, fighting to hold her control. With all of her strength, she rose and walked toward a guard, her heart thudding fiercely in her chest. She raised her hands up, and D'vena's hands lowered the hood that concealed her face as she stood before a young guard. Azi formed the words in her mind, forcing them on D'vena with everything she had. "I am D'vena." A yelp of triumph when she actually spoke the words! A hand was on her arm, she jolted back to the little townhouse. She was standing shakily before Pappa, who looked more worried than she had ever seen him before. Tears streamed down her face as she leaned into him. "I did it, Pappa," she whispered, and then collapsed in his strong arms. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas sat across the square amid the smithing area at the forge. No one ever seemed to notice a cleric moving about and blessing crafters with strength. In the drab dress of any itinerant cleric, he blended in perfectly. He observed them enter Judanâ€™s and Lynis leave alone some minutes later. He slipped away from the crafting area and met with several young lads. Some of them had been born to women at the Mermaid and others he had come to know on his own. â€œThatâ€™s the house, boys. Keep your eyes open for the blond beauty that just went in, alright?â€ They looked at him and nodded. â€œBut whys you wants her watched, Father Toby?â€ the oldest, Erich, asked. His smudged face was just starting to show signs of a downy hair and his eyes were far to serious for one so young. The battlefields were not the only places that showed one the cruelty of life, Toby reminded himself. He smiled. Erich would be one to watch for potential, surely. â€œShe is a dear friend to me, but has fallen under a grave spell from a wicked woman,â€ Toby informed him as he dolled out some silver coins â€œNow, donâ€™t be getting distracted by the coin just yet, alright?â€ His eyes swept over them all. With a small sign of blessing, he moved off. He had other tasks to see to yet. -- The rider almost burst into the offices of the Red Lions. The hall was quiet as it was yet early, and the rider was exhausted. Mud spattered his riding leathers and his face was streaked with dirt, cleared only where sweat had run down it. Leaving his boot prints on the flag stones he made his way quickly to the Lord Generalâ€™s office, entering without pausing to knock. Arguyle looked up from the plans he had been reviewing for an upcoming campaign. â€œPardon, your Lordship,â€ the rider said with a bow. â€œShe moved from Barfog, crossed the border out last night.â€ Arguyle scowled in thought. â€œYouâ€™re sure of it? Could it be someone else?â€ He did not like the idea that Dâ€™Vena had slipped his efforts thus far to find her. The rider nodded. â€œQuite sure of it, sir.â€ With a curse worthy of his peasant background, Arguyle dismissed the rider. -- Crispian rubbed at his neck again. God, why had fallen asleep in the chair? He stretched to work out the sore muscles throughout his back and gladly accepted the mulled wine that Ardy brought him. â€œLiard, is there aught ye be needinâ€™?â€ the young highlander asked him, setting out fresh clothing on the narrow bed. Crispian shook his head. â€œNo, Ardy, I should be fine, thank you. Youâ€™ve done very well, these last couple of days.â€ He appreciated Ardy taking on the burden of squiring for him, although he did not really need it. â€œIâ€™ll call if there is anything.â€ He let Ardy depart before beginning to dress for the day in the fine doublet and breeches that were laid out. One advantage to being in Camelot so much was not needing to be armored full time. As he was fastening the last ties to the blue-gray doublet, the door opened. Tobyas entered without ceremony. â€œAzi did not come back to the church,â€ he said without preamble. â€œBut she is with her father.â€ He pour himself a goblet of wine and perched on the edge of Crispianâ€™s writing desk. A last adjustment of a tie and Crispian turned to Toby. â€œI donâ€™t think you should try to hold Azi captive, Toby. She too needs to be able to fight this as she may. Dâ€™Vena,â€ he paused, eyes closing in a wince, â€œDâ€™Vena can be pu-pu-pushed back.â€ His jaw worked for a second. â€œOh, God.â€ The pain had set on suddenly, sharply. â€œToby?â€ Crispian croaked out as his legs went weak and he started to sink to the floor. The young cleric sprang across the short distance between them and get a shoulder under Crispian. He was again reminded that although just a couple of inches part five foot, Crispian carried nearly one-hundred-sixty pounds of muscle on his frame. â€œEasy, Crispian,â€ he said as he shouldered him up and over to the cot. â€œIs it her?â€ Crispian nodded, his teeth clenched, as star swam before his eyes. -- â€œBad, bad little boy,â€ Dâ€™Vena crooned. â€œDid you think I would not come back to mind what you were doing?â€ He clenched her fist in the air again. A cooling breakfast was beside her, but she wanted this small moment of privacy for her own indulgences. â€œSoon, I will be back home, and you will come to me and beg!â€ -- Azi knew in an instant that Dâ€™Vena had shifted her driving thoughts elsewhere. She went to her desk and started to write a letter, while she had the chance. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/Bump because I'd much rather read this than people moaning about pygmies :P -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	One of the prime lessons that Tobyas had learned in his time at the Mermaid was that nothing was a secret if it was spoken. The second thing was that undesirable jobs were the best ways to gain information. That was how he came to know of Dâ€™Venaâ€™s sighting within minutes of Arguyle knowing it. It gave him a moment of panic when the word was delivered to him. Crispian was still semi-comatose from whatever nature of contact Dâ€™Vena had exerted on him. Toby pondered the matter. He could hardly move Crispian from the League Hall without someone noticing. He would not ask aid, for fear that Arcalan might find out. Damn her for being the enigma she was! Left with few options, he entrusted Crispian to the care of Ardy and made his exit. He appeared very casual as he made his way toward his parish, but every stop he made resulted in a new message or directive being sent to someone. He wished he had the realm-wide contacts that Crispian had. But, he marshaled the resources of a one-time urchin and spread word of his will to those who would do his bidding in this hour of his need. Of course, it meant that he was becoming more indebted with each visit, with each favor called on. He might have a long payoff period ahead of him, but right now it was worth it. He would not be idle while two he loved, in two different ways, were at stake. -- Witrin was not an unpleasant place, but Jashen chafed at being there. His life for months had been in Camelot, prior to becoming a mercenary and seeking the field. Now, having become an infiltrator, he found the time forced into being away that much more intolerable. If only Cris had given him his old title and job. But, he knew he would have to earn it, and the respect of his fellow League members. One could not leave a group like the League and expect to just return to it with full honors restored. They were too tight knit for that. He paced the rampart, waiting for the call for a hunt. His leather armor, which would be the only armor he wore, creaked as he walked. He thought it had been difficult to get used to chain mail! The boil leather had very little give to it and even when he broke it in, there was still a chafing to his shoulders that was uncomfortable. He could not see how some of the smaller Saracen dealt with it. The weight was fixed, much more so than chain, were a shift in your stance would move some of the armor. The very rigidness of the reinforced leather prevented that from happening! His hand toyed with his stilettos. He had been told to master a critical strike style, favored among the assassins. He did not wish to do so. Poison was something he was pondering as well. Mercenaries did not use such things, relying on skill with arms to win. But infiltrators, so he had been told, relied heavily on poisons and sneak attacks that did massive amounts of damage in their initial blows. Jashen was not so much concerned with his ability to kill quietly, as much as his skill at sneaking into an area. By the Almightyâ€™s third unwashed nipple, he itched for a fight! Like his hunting before, to charge a foe and strike with his two blades. Sir Oakleif, even when he was young and in training, had said that Jashen had a skill for the blades. Cris could not fight with two weapons, he was too right-side reliant. But Jashen...he knew he was good with two blades, and now he ached to prove it so that he might get back to what he wanted to do, protect the Leagueâ€™s security. Surely, the reports were still filing in. His structure of informants was well spread out and even inside some of the other private guilds. He had a good network of friends back in Camelot, and he missed many of them. If only Arcalan were not such vocal adversary! He thought for a moment in self-pity. Bah, thatâ€™s enough Jash! He chided. Get down to work. You can hunt on your own and youâ€™ll be fine! With that thought, he went down the stairs of the tower and out into the blustering wind. He would hunt today, and live by these new skills. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi set down her quill and rolled up the note, sealing it with blue wax pressed with a generic rose-seal. She had been meaning to get herself a more recognizable seal before this all started, but now the idea of worrying over such a little detail was almost laughable. Ascot would recognize it, nonetheless. As she slid gently from her stool, Pappa appeared in her doorway with a tray, looking tired and worried. The scent of sweet herbs and cake wafted to her nose. "Feeling better?" He asked cautiously. Azi nodded slowly, remembering the pain and exhaustion of the previous evening. Her attempt had drained everything out of her, and she had slept through the sunrise almost to high noon. She knew Pappa had stayed with her all night, she had felt his presence as she slept. How many nights had she kept the same vigil for him as a child? Pappa set the tray on her night table and looked at her again with worry. She was so small, so frail. But he knew the strength in her was so much more than could be expected from such a tiny body. Azaeli pulled her breastplate and greaves from a shelf and set them carefully on the bed. The dents and scrapes and gore of battle had been lovingly burnished and buffed away, and the armor held a gleam that could have lit the room in the dead of night. "Going hunting, Angel?" He asked softly, a hint of disapproval in his voice. "Yes, Pappa, I need to clear my mind of all of this, and I'm behind on my training." She half-lied. He nodded, knowing no amount of sternness or argument would hold her. She would do what she must do, what her heart told her to do, as he had always taught her to. Azi stood silently, shifting her balance as Pappa helped her fasten and tighten straps and screws. She felt complete in the plate, protected, larger. Freer somehow, even under the weight of it in her exhaustion. She tucked the helm under her arm and made her way downstairs, passing up the breakfast on the tray. Pappa took down her mother's sword and slid it into the scabbard at Azi's back. She kissed him on the cheek, feeling his beard scratch her lips as he hugged her close. "May the Lord Almighty guide your heart, and your blade," Pappa said softly. "And may your mother watch over you." He brushed a blonde strand from her face and kissed her forehead. "So much like your mother," he whispered. "Love you, Pappa," she said softly and stepped into the streets. Her list was short, first to the guild hall to see Crispian, for surely that was where D'vena's focus had shifted, then to track down Jashen, to make certain he had destroyed the tome. Finally, to Tobyas. She had a few choice words for the man who she'd entrusted herself to. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/illness bump -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/get better bump -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/Chicken soup bump ((get better soon...)) -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/late night sinus bump -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	For one used to entering the city as a noble and valued member of the courtier circles, slipping in through the north gate among the penitent was disheartening. Dâ€™Vena was used to recognition and deference. This skulking in was not something she enjoyed in the least. Her two companions gaped at the city and its splendor as Dâ€™Vena made her way hastily. She eschewed going to the cathedral and rather sought out some of the places where there were rooms to let. She had to get busy, and soon. All of her prey were out and about, enjoying freedom during her travel time from Barfog. Her mind was still turning over that incident with the guardsman. There was no earthly reason that she should have walked up to him and informed him of her identity, yet that was precisely what she had done. Brazenly, even. Why had she done so? It was as if, in that moment, she had no control over herself. She laughed at that. Of course, she was in control of herself. There was only a handful of people in all of the Albion, Hibernia, and Midgard combined who could exert influence at the level she did. And none of them were even mildly interested in what Dâ€™Vena was doing. Not Dâ€™Vena the Outlaw, surely. Stripped of titles, lands, and holdings, she was as a nothing to them. She snarled a laugh at that as she negotiated lodgings in a run-down shop with two floors to let. She went up the stairs and surveyed the rooms. They were adequate for her needs, she felt. With some snapped instructions to her retainers, she set them to work at readying her workspace, for the pack train should be here tomorrow. She wanted to get ready for her work now that she was closer to the subjects. Oh, they would all feel her pain now, or rather the pain she wanted them to feel. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian sat up with a groan, his body aching. He had felt her disdainful touch earlier, and now his body recoiled at the aftershock of it. No compulsions to do anything rather just pain. The old witch was about something, it was sure. He decided it was time to seek out some advice from those he knew who worked in mind magic. Tinowan, young knight of the League, would be a good one to ask, he though as he pulled on the gambison and padded leggings for his armor. Ardy came in at that point and helped him into the chain tunic and leggings over which his plate would be strapped. The burnished mail gleamed brightly as Ardy fastened and buckled it into place. Crispian felt immediately better when it was all but finished. He did not don his helm, for he was not leaving the city. But the rest of the armor settled in and he was ready. He wanted to fidget as Ardy fastened his cloak to the sturdy rings on his shoulders, but he didnâ€™t. Ardy handed him his sword and he wrapped the belt about his waist. With a nod of thanks, the Seneschal of the West for St. Crispinâ€™s League descended the stairs from his chambers and exited the hall into the street. Today would somehow be a day of battle, he felt. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	At the little run down parish, the urchins of the neighborhood gathered for a late morning breakfast. This new thing that Father Tobyas had started was being met with much praise. Daily, he would open the kitchen to the young needy of the city for food. What most people did not realize was that this meal time served as the daily meeting of Tobyâ€™s agent in the city. He presided over them as they passed information to him of the areas he had under close watch, as well as passing on rumors and tidbits of information. Toby chewed on a heel of bread as he listened to the spirited reports. The sense of purpose for most of those here gathered gave them a spark for life that too often became missing to those deep in the Shadow Quarter. Toby was proud to have at least brought that to them, even if they did serve another ends for him. The list of information he carefully wrote down in a fine hand as they talked. With annoyance, he kept brushing back a bang of his hair that insisted on falling to the front of his eyes. â€œWhat was that, Geoffrey, about the penitent gate?â€ he asked as he looked sharply at one of the boys. â€œTell me that again.â€ Geoffrey, a lad of nearly sixteen years, drank down some milk and looked to Tobyas. â€œWell, fadder, it was odd like, this morn, it was. See, this here woman comes through the gate with two blokes, see, and it sure seemed to me like they were footmen to her or somethinâ€™ soâ€™s I followed them. The lady took floors over to all Fatty Armisterâ€™s place on Tinkers way.â€ He bobbed his head to show he was done. Tobyas looked at them all. â€œI must leave you now,â€ he said and made a hasty exit. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi walked along the streets, deep in thought of things past and things to come. Her pace was leisurely as she walked, nodding greetings to familiar faces along the way. She made her way toward the League hall, wondering what state Crispian would be in if he was there. D'vena's attention was elsewhere, and Azi knew Crispian was most likely taking the brunt of it now. She wondered whether she had actually gotten through to D'vena that last time. Pappa had told her she said those words aloud to him in her trance. A feeling of dread overcame her as she passed a little rue of run-down shops. Her head began to ache. Chills shot from the nape of her neck to base of her spine. Gah! Stop thinking about the witch! She thought to herself. Shakily, Azi quickened her pace, ducking into an alleyway shortcut that she would have normally avoided. She hastened toward the League hall, the feelings subsiding as she neared the welcome sight. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	With a tone on his lips, Jashen strolled toward the League Hall. He had just arrived from Witrin to purchase poisons for his new blades, and to hit Crispian up for some funds. There was something to having an older brother who was known for his craft and hunting skill. He grinned, entering into his home, as he thought of the League Hall. He could not help but notice that it was a little empty today. Oh well. He tapped out a tankard of ale and settled in to Crispian's writing desk, review the rolls of new members. It felt good to be in Camelot, to feel the bustle of the crowds and the excitement in the street. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The door to the guild hall was wide open, and Azi stepped inside lightly, tipping her head back so her long hair fell down her back. Her tired eyes surveyed the hall, empty save for one person. Crispian sat at his desk, a tankard in hand, his blonde head bent over some scrolls. Realizing that he hadn't heard her enter, she stood looking at him closely. Something was different about him. He was wearing fine leather, and he seemed calmer than usual, more at ease with himself. It was then that Azi laughed out loud at herself. She never could tell those two apart! "Jashen!" she made her way gracefully to the desk, and sat beside him. She favored him with a gentle smile. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen looked up from the scrolls, then set them down. Although he outwardly was still as calm as ever, he watched Azi closely as he smiled back. "I take it you are feeling more yourself?" he drank from the tankard and set it aside, well out of pull range if he should have the need. He prayed this was his Azi back to the norm, but if it did turn out to be more D'Vena than Azi, he had to be prepared. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	"More myself, yes. Though I don't know for how long, friend." She sighed to herself, looking at Jashen. He didn't trust her, she could sense it. Not that she could blame him. The unease of thier last meeting flooded her thoughts...â€œI did trust you, and I hope to again! But if these monks cannot contain you, I will kill you." His fierce expression flashed before her, and she closed her eyes. She hadn't thought of that, hadn't thought of what may happen when the two met again. Suddenly shaken, she rose to pour herself a mug of tea. "I hear you've changed your ways to follow a respectable path." She smiled playfully, in effort to prove to him that she was indeed herself. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen smiled back, a bit cautious. "Well, if you can considering becoming an infiltrator respectable! It's been interesting, to say the least! I miss my chainmail, though. Damn leather doesn't stop enough of the blow!" He drank from the tankard. Azi seemed normal enough, he had to admit. His heart yearned to grab her and hug her. But, he knew he couldn't. She was in love with Ascot. And now that he was in the League...He shrugged. "I do have an inkling now for what you went through. But I can fight two-bladed still!" His smile faded a bit. "Have you tried to do that thing to her again?" -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi swallowed. News traveled fast, she thought to herself, Crispian had probably told him what she had discovered. The exhaustion of the previous night still weighed on her, enough that she slumped in the chair beside Jashen. She closed her eyes again, remembering the vivid detail of D'vena's hands warming over the fire, and the young guard's face as she greeted him. Azi cursed herself for not having held on longer, for not telling the guard everything, for not forcing D'vena to throw herself onto the fire... She opened her eyes and looked at Jashen, nodding slowly. "Last night, Jashen. I did. She was outdoors, at a station. It was cold there, though I didn't recognize it. There were guards near, and I knew she was in disguise. So I brought attention to her, but I don't know if it worked.." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen almost dropped his tankard. She COULD do it, it seemed. "You did what exactly?" He had skimmed a dispatch from Crispian and Tobyas' letter about the matter had spelled it out clearly. If Azi could manage control, give them her location or surroundings, maybe Cris could do her in! He waited, leaning forward, expectantly. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi's eyes met Jashen's. Her fingers gripped the clay mug tightly, and she drew a deep breath. "The first time, I felt D'vena beginning to take hold, so I pushed toward her. I blessed myself, and she did the same." She lowered her voice, her eyes ran along the opposite wall. "Last night, the same happened, her evil touched me, and I pushed toward it. It is like walking through a thick fog, Jashen, toward a wicked voice that I'm unsure I am even hearing. And I keep walking, farther from all that is familiar and safe, and closer to the uncertainty." She released a long sigh and closed her eyes, rubbing them with a shakey hand. "And then the fog clears and I am standing in someone else's place. D'vena's place, as if I AM her. I reached up and lowered my hood, and then I walked to a guard, and introduced myself." Her eyes opened to see Jashen staring in disbelief, and she shrugged, sipping her tea. "Then I was back home, and Pappa was there, and I collapsed." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	His look of concern was made comical by the grin that threatened to burst from his lips. "You introduced her to a guard?" He wanted to let out a whoop at this news. This was their first real weapon against D'Vena in all these months! Their first chance to make a strike against her. "Tell me you could do it again, if she were somehow distracted after a contact with you. Could you?" He knew the distraction he could go for, if Azi were game for it. By God, she was a Woman! All silk and satin outside, with a core of steel! So much like Auntie Mir, and he hoped like his own mother. She was inspirational even! -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi smiled at Jashen's excitement. It was the same way she'd felt when she first realized her ability to control D'vena, that hag. Inwardly, though, she was terrified. Yes, she could do it again, yes she wanted to do it. But even now, almost a day since her previous try, she was so exhausted. And those thing she'd made D'vena do were such small gestures. It would drain her so much more to do anything else, especially so soon. But she knew as well as he did it was the only way. "I can do it again," her confidence masking her exhaustion, "Whatever you ask, Jashen, say the word and I shall do what I can." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen swallowed hard at her words. He could feel the sudden beads of sweat between his shoulder blades and a weakness about his knees. The absolute trust not just in her statement but in her tone was like a knife. He knew what his plan would entail for risks physically, but ethereally, he had no idea. What if it were too much on Azi? Or Crispian? He nodded once, curtly. "If you think you can, then we should try to get the players all together. And we might even be able to use Arcalan as well." He picked up the tankard and prayed Azi did not notice the slight tremor in his hand as he drained it off. "There will be work to do before hand though. Do you feel safe being out here, Azi? I need to know if you have any doubts as to your own control of you." -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi smiled. Jashen was a wonder of strategy. He was in his element, for certain. Excitement coursed through her, and her grin widened. "You mean can I trust myself, Jashen? Honestly?" She thought it over. The only time since she had opened that tome that she didn't trust herself was when she had tried to fight against D'vena. But she knew now that that wasn't the way to go about it. She sipped the remains of her mug, swallowing the pungent bits of leaves and spices that had settled. "Yes. I know how to deal with her now. I don't know what you have in mind, but I will tell you I shall need a good amount of rest before I try anything too complicated." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen let a sly, wicked grin creep across his face. "You get the rest before we work, some others will need it after!" He almost laughed aloud. "We could set her on ear with this work!" Finally, he did whoop, slapping palm against thigh with a long, sharp report. "Azi, you're a treasure! An absolute treasure!" He leapt up and grabbed her off her stool, twirling her in the air once. "But, you have to help me, uh, set the mood," he continued as a wicked grin spread over his face. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi stiffened with suprise as Jashed embraced her, then let her body relax. She, too, laughed loudly as he set her down. A blush rose over her face as she squezzed him around the middle, and she giggled uncontrollably. It felt so good to laugh, it seemed like ages since she had allowed herself to. "Hmm..set the mood? Do tell." Her pulse quickened with excitement as she waited for him to reveal his plan. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashenâ€™s grinned turned a little more wicked. â€œWell, what I am about to propose the Church would not consider proper.â€ He sat down, motioning for Azi to do the same. â€œHowever, from what I overheard one afternoon in Ludlow a few weeks ago, it seems big brother and his friend need little encouragement to, ah, indulge themselves?â€ He fought down a slight blush at the memory of what he had overheard while guarding the upper hallway that day. â€œBut if we can set the mood, and maybe cause a little agitation before hand, I am sure Dâ€™Vena would pay her attention to it!â€ He fidgeted with his tankard a moment. â€œNow, donâ€™t read this wrong. I know Cris is under a curse, but if this can give us,â€ he paused, sipping at the ale, â€œan edge over her, then I think we have to exploit it.â€ He knew that this was playing with hearts and emotions, but on the other side of all these events, Crispian would hopefully be free of it all, and could truly chose his own path, be it what it may. â€œAnd itâ€™s not like either of them would be hurt by some, ah, physical distractions, right?â€ He let the conclusion lay flat as he topped up his tankard. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Rolling clouds darkened the skies over Camelot as Crispian made his way from the Guild Hall toward the Forge Square. He walked with confidence this day. A dull pain throbbed in his mind, held at bay by a spheroid pendent and a cup of mulled wine. It seemed Dâ€™Vena was on the offensive. He wondered if she would take to her old tactics of letters to discredit people and skillfully placed rumors. He was paying out nearly a gold a day to feed the rumor mill of Camelot with tales of good doing by the League, himself, and even Arcalan. Jashen had given him good council on that topic. He missed his younger brother, not to be considered little anymore. Jashen had grown some teeth these past months, he realized. No more was he just the shadow of Crispian. He had become a note worthy in his own rite, and now was starting a second career in the field. Crispian had to give him a measure of respect for that. It took a lot of guts to walk away from twenty hires as a Mercenary and start all over, and in a harder field of mastery. He was a bit awed by that. Maybe it was time to confess that to Jashen. Their boyhood quarrels now had to grow into a manhood relationship, no matter what the outcome of these problems were. Drawing out his tools, he turned the sign over. â€˜Crispian, crafter of weapons, some Mithril items made,â€™ it said in careful hand-painted letters. The Master had asked him to make a bill for a citizen, a task he did not have the time to do himself. Crispian careful set some mithril bars to heat so that he could craft the head and then took stock of his runewood. Back to crafting, after so long at being gone. He found a quiet joy in the turning of raw metal into fine weapons. It also afforded him time to think. How would he counter Dâ€™Venaâ€™s push this time? He was uncertain. The ring of his hammer on the metal set cadence of this thought. Each ting of hammer on mithril seemed to say â€˜Fight,â€ until the pattern was set. Fight, fight, fight, Dâ€™Vena. Striking the anvil was the root point. He would have to oppose her, he knew. He also had to face the very real possibility that opposing her could be his end. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi sat stunned at Jashen's proposal. She thought of Tobyas, how he had tricked her into the chamber of the church, into an obvious spell. Certainly she was hurt by his deception, but she he intended only good to come of it. She thought of the day they had first met on the riverbanks outside of Camelot, how distraught he had been. She thought of the night in the church, how much he had cared for Crispian. Jashen was wrong. Indeed this plan wouldn't come to a good end. Tobyas was finally coming to his own, embracing his faith and realizing his purpose in the church. She remembered his solemnity and blessing in the abbey, the holiness that radiated from him. She thought of Crispian, a victim of feelings he couldn't control. Remembered him fighting with the emotions that had tied him to Tobyas. Remembered the rumors, and how they ate at the two men, how they threatened the League's reputation. And what would happen after D'vena's defeat? Did he think it would be easily forgotten? Suddenly, she was angry with Jashen. How could he think this a good plan? "No, Jashen. Think of another way." She said simply. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen's face fell and he sighed heavily. He could barely look at Azi. "The only other I can think of would be to provoke a fight with Cris." He swilled his ale about, looking down on the brown frothy surface. "A fight like only his brother could goad him into." With a somber look, he gazed up at Azi. "The kind of fight I know I can bring him to, and win," he said bleakly. His heart was torn at the choices, and he honestly preferred the first. "But I can do it. You, however," he said looking her squarely on, "have to be ready to get things moving if I do." He lifted his tankard and drained it in one drink. "But I'd rather toy with his affections, truth be known. He and Toby are grown men, with choices to make." He sighed as he looked down. "I hate that witch!" -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	A sigh escaped her lips, she felt unshed tears burn her eyes as she rested a hand on Jashen's. "Jashen. Do you remember how all of this came about?" She asked, knowing that Jashen would recognize her reference to Crispian using D'vena all that time ago. "If Crispian or Tobyas ever found out you'd toyed with thier hearts in such a way, they could never forgive you." She sighed heavily. "Matters of the heart, however they come about, should never be played with or taken lightly." She looked at him, knowing the pain he felt at his second proposal. Could she ask him to sacrifice his relationship with his brother? His twin? She shook her head, barely able to whisper. "What sort of fight, Jashen?" -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen blinked rapidly to squelch tears, his golden lashes dappling with them. His mouth turned down in a near grimace and his fingers toyed with his tankard uneasily. "The type of fight you can have with someone who has been part of your life everyday for twenty plus years. All the old slights, offenses and mistakes." He looked up to the ceiling of the hall. "I wonder how Mirashta put up with us, and how we survived each other." His gaze slowly moved downward to meet Azi's. "The kind of fight that twists words and meanings, that rips at everything." He swallowed so hard she could hear him even as his throat worked. "And I know damn well the buttons to push, because he reacts as I would," he paused, looking away from her again, "and as I do." -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi let a tear slip down her cheek unchecked as she slid close to Jashen. She slipped her arm through his and squeezed his hand with her other hand. "Damn it all." She cursed. "Jash, I hate to say it, but I see no other way. To have them do...what you suggested before, would cause too many problems. For each of them, and for the League..." She let her voice trail off, her mind raced. She shook her head "I'll be ready for wahtever you propose, but it's the only way." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen leaned into Azi slightly, wishing the embrace were more than comradely, but knowing it would never, could never be. "I can do it," he said, biting his lower lip into his teeth. "I guess I have to do it," he said quietly, as a shudder raced up his spine. His love for his brother was unquestionable, and deep. He'd hate it, but if it would get D'Vena's attention so fully on Crispian to allow Azi to explore and report back where she was...He had to take the shot at it, painful though it was. "Give me a couple days to plan and make things ready," he said as he slid away from her. "And for you to recover fully." -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	"I pray that two days is not too long to wait. She's busy, Jashen, far too distracted for my liking." Azi rose and patted Jashen's shoulder. "I was planning to hunt a bit today, my muscles are getting spoiled with all of this rest. I haven't been sore for days," she grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll go back home though, and get some rest, I suppose. If anything at all occurs, or if you wish even to talk, you can find me there." She rinsed and dried the mug and Jashen's tankard and set them on the shelf, then turned to him. Her expression turned solemn and gentle as she rested a hand on his head. "May the Almighty give you strength, dear friend. The sacrifice you make is the for the triumph of all that is good. May He bless you and watch over you in your struggle." Softly, she whispered, "It will come to a good end, Jashen, and Cris will understand when all is done." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	He watched her go from the League Hall again. How many times had he watched her leave? He smirked at his own silliness. Then his mind turned to his upcoming task, and a great uneasiness settled over him. He was now an infiltrator, a sometimes scout and sometimes assassin. And it seemed his first assassination would be his own brother's heart. With a grim look, he got up and went to the chambers he used when at the Guild Hall. He was in no mood for company, of any sort. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	She took a different route home, worrying about the events to come. She avoided the forge, and the more crowded areas of the city, hoping desperately that she would run into no one. Even Pappa wasn't there when she arrived at home, thankfully. She didn't care to explain anything at all, to anyone, even to him. She set a kettle on the hook and tossed a thick log onto the low embers, then trudged up the stairs. Even out of her armor, the weight of everything pressed her down. She pulled on a soft shift and dropped onto her bed, wondering how on earth she was going to get any rest at all knowing the course of events that would unfold in the next few days. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/Saturday morning Bump! -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arcalan slid down from her perch in the League Hall. He cloth boots made barely a sound as they touched the floor, and her slender form slid out of it's hiding place totally unobserved by either Jashen or Azi, just as she'd snuck out of the way of a few harsh owners from time to time. She smiled to herself that she could evade an infiltraitor, even if he hadn't been training very long. Interesting things were afoot, that much was sure. Jashen would bear Crispian's soul to the core, Azi would push on with some plot to bring D'Vena into the open... hmm. She made her way merrily into the bustling street, and began a soft song, swaying her hips as she strode ever more confident down the street. What had Jashen meant, "we might even use Arcalan?" Nothing good alas. Jashen would provide her with a window of oppertunity unlooked for, and she'd have to take that when it came. So if he wanted her in on the plan so much the better, this time she wanted to help out. As she passed behind a caravan of wares she recalled the owner being a particularly brutal man she'd encountered in Ludlow one night "earning her keep". She fought down the urge to kill him outright with a spell, and instead marked a glyph on his caravan so she could track him after he went home from market day. A little light revenge would cap this day off nicely. She threw her cloak wide so it rippled out behind her as she strutted along. She continued to head through the streets into the Shadow Quarter, only to see a familiar face running down the alleyway towards her. "Brother Tobyas" she smiled lavishly at the fun this encounter may provide "I receieved a note saying you wished to speak to me?" -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi drifted awake feeling warm and safe in the comfort of her own soft bed. She rolled onto her side and blinked into the dim light of her room. A blue-robed cabalist rose from Azi's writing desk and lowered himself onto the bed beside her, and her heart leapt with happiness. â€œMy sweet love!â€ She leaned and hugged him tightly. â€œWhat haste you must have made to arrive so quickly!â€ She covered her mouth as she yawned, and Ascot smiled warmly at her, but his expression soured quickly. â€œYour letter frightened me, love. What manner of secret would you keep from me?â€ Azi fell back against her pillow and closed her eyes, and she felt Ascotâ€™s gentle hand caressing her forehead. He knew of Crispianâ€™s curse, and now it was time to tell him her part in it. â€œSo many things have happened, Ascot. It seems I am a magnet for curses.â€ Ascotâ€™s hand tensed and fell away. â€œWhat do you mean, dearest?â€ His voice faltered. "Ascot, it was terrible.." She explained to him the day the tome had arrived, and how she had opened and read it. â€œOh, Azi!â€ He said with disapproval, as if to scold her. He changed his mind, instead reaching his arms around her and pulling her close to him. "Oh, sweetie. What happened?" Azi flinched at his concern for her, knowing the story would only get worse from this point. "Somehow I was transported to D'vena's hidden mansion," she hated herself for telling him this, for worrying him so. She choked back a cry, "and she worked sorcery on me.." "What kind of sorcery?â€ Ascot interrupted, his blue eyes flashing with anger, â€œand are you still cursed?" "I am indeed," Azi lowered her eyes to the quilt, twisting and untwisting its hem between her fingers as she spoke. "I know not what kind it was, but I do know it was hasty.." "Oh dear. Then what are we doing here? We should make haste to my study and find a cure!" He jumped up from the bed, pulling her toward him, but she let go of his hand and slumped back again to her pillows, shaking her head. "No, love. Listen. I found myself acting strangely, and ran into Jashen in Camelot. He brought me to Vetusta Abbey and told them to lock me in." Ascot gry-blue eyes flashed with anger. Then he nodded, as if going over the scenario in his head. "That is why I could not find you home..." He murmured, coming to sit beside her again. Aziâ€™s pulse quickened as he took her hand and kissed it softly. â€œYes...I was not at home for quite awhile. But I was at church, praying, and somehow I found I was able to control D'vena, though it was exhausting." His eyes widened as she spoke, and his hand froze in place, still holding hers tenderly. "Control her? How so?" He leaned in close. Azi drew a deep breath and shivered, growing weary of her own explanation of it. "By pushing toward her evil when it took hold of me, I could find her, the source, and control her with my own motions." "Be careful Azi!!â€ Ascot gasped, taking up her other hand and leaning in closer. â€œYou do not know what this evil can do to you!" Azi tried hard to control herself, but she was shaking with the truth of his words. She had known that all along, but nobody had ever put it so simply to her before. And the words meant so much more coming from the man she loved. "Ascot,â€ she said slowly, worried that he may take her meaning the wrong way, â€œCrispian has been a dear friend to me. To watch him suffer as he has...and to know that I alone hold the power to stop the witch.." She burst into tears, unable to continue, and Ascot drew her in, holding her close to him. Their hearts beat in rhythm with one another as they sat in silence, Ascot rocking Azi gently in his arms. â€œWhy did you not tell me...â€ he whispered softly, and after she didnâ€™t answer, â€œIt's alright dear. I know he is your dear friend. I just wish you would have told me. Perhaps there is an easier way." "Would that there was!â€ Azaeli moaned, burying her head into his chest, â€œBut already Jashen has a plan. And I am part of it." Ascot squeezed her even closer. â€œPlease be careful.â€ He stroked her knotted hair, knowing that her mind was made up to help, and he wouldnâ€™t be able to convince her otherwise. â€œIf I was to lose you.... then you'd truly see a man in agony and pain." "Oh, Ascot!â€ She cried, about to say aloud what she had been keeping shut inside her heart for days now, â€œI wish I had nothing to do with this!" â€œAs do I, love, as do I.â€ He murmured into her hair. â€œBut it is too late for such regrets. Is there anything that I can do?" Azi wiped the tears from her eyes and rested her cheek on Ascotâ€™s chest. "I've told Jashen I will rest until his plan is laid out.â€ She pulled away, searching his gray-blue eyes, â€œStay with me?" "I will stay with you.â€ He answered softly, pulling her close again. â€œI hope my love for you will keep you safe." "As do I, my dearest.." Azi whispered. Thoughts of the task ahead fell away as he rocked her gently. Eventually, Azaeli fell into a deep, contented sleep in the arms of her love. -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/morning bump -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas greeted Arcalan. He had not expected her to come to him so quickly, but it was just as well. He knew the study he had taken to using here at the church was warded against most manners of magic, and had paid a bit extra to ensure cabalist magic was most closely checked. He smiled pleasantly at her as he got them both some wine from a sideboard. â€œI am pleased you have come, Arcalan,â€ he said as he handed her a goblet of silver with a filigree design on it. The old church had many such items little used in these days. That was a pity, he thought. The Lyonesse white was a good vintage and not too sweet for the time of the day. â€œI trust you know that we both have been watching each other, and others?â€ he asked rather directly. A time for coyness might have been, but he felt that now was hardly such a time. Arcalan favored him with a tight smile of her own. â€œYes, I must confess. But I have to tell you, Tobyas, I do not know what I have done that could cause such interest in me, a lowly caster of some minor spells.â€ She tried to look winsome, but the look did not sit well on her. She knew her powers were now beyond that of this little priest. Let him try to be a threat. â€œI do not merit the scrutiny I have been under, truly.â€ Toby controlled a smirk and managed to keep his expression even and unchanged. â€œWell, there has been some acrimony surrounding you within the Hall, you must admit,â€ he said neutrally. â€œAnd you have been at open odds with both Crispian and Jashen.â€ He knew quite a bit about her comings and goings around the town but had to weigh carefully what he said now. This could be a deadly situation if he did not play it right. â€œAll I wish to speak of, however, is the matter with Dâ€™Vena. You own pursuits, I speculate, are not the same as hers. True?â€ He kept his eyes on hers to see how she would play this. Annoyance flickered there for a moment. Just how much had this boy upstart figured out? And who did he have watching her? She had been much more careful than before since ferreting out and removing the threat of Tannir. â€œWhy I know not what goals you speak of Tobyas. I am a faithful daughter of the League.â€ Her innocent act played out no better with him, she noticed, than it did with others. Damn them all to the death they had coming, she thought. A knock at the door interrupted them. Tobyas, in a slither of chain mail rings against each other, rose and went to door, speaking in a low tone with whomever was there. Arcalan tried to catch what was being said, but the distance and the fact that they spoke toward the hallway and not toward her, kept her from hearing much of anything. He came back to his desk, but did not resume his seat. â€œArcalan, I am afraid I must cut my time with you short. Lady Wynchell, his Majestyâ€™s Cleric, has asked my assistance. I must attend to Mother Church first it seems,â€ he informed her. His look was perturbed enough that Arcalan could accept that at least as somewhat true. â€œOf course, Tobyas, we all must obey our higher masters, yes?â€ She finished her wine and rose with Avalonian grace. â€œWe shall continue this later, though,â€ she said in a tone that smacked of threat and promise both. â€œIndeed, we shall,â€ he said with a slight bow of the head. â€œUntil then,â€ he gave her a slight nod as he showed her out. Immediately, he went to his desk and consulted some notes from a locked drawer. It was confirmed then, he thought. Dâ€™Vena had taken chambers within the Shadow Quarter! The moment was here, then. He knew that a caster of her mastery, even without all her trappings and gear, would be formidable, but now had to be the time. He slung his cloak over his shoulders and departed through a forgotten tunnelway, emerging on the street about a block from the old church. With a purposeful stride he headed directly for the forge. Thanks to his pride in keeping his armor in high repair, Crispian was rather easy to track through the city. The forge area was somewhat busy as always. Tobyas noticed Leftie, a one-time League-mate, working and Apolexia, who had recently joined the League. Then he saw Crispian. His heart left slightly at seeing him. Rarely in the past weeks had he looked so hale and healthy. His armor, in fine repair, and cloak added to the appearance. Toby found himself noticing again just how striking the young lord could be. The fact that he was so short, although thick of muscle, added something to the appeal. He blushed at his own thoughts, knowing that if all went as he felt it would, the feelings between the two of them would certainly change. However, he knew, in his heart, that his love for the young Master of the League was so great he could not see him held in bondage to Dâ€™Vena any longer. â€œHail, Crispian,â€ he said as he settled on the scarred stool that was next to him. â€œI have news that you will be interested in.â€ He kept his voice low, compared to the clamor of the forge. Crispianâ€™s gray eyes rose to meet Tobyasâ€™s own blue. Although clear of redness that spoke of ale consumption, they were troubled eyes. The smudge of exhaustion was under them, and it was clear that the control over drink Crispian had been showing was indeed a hard fought matter. â€œAye? What news have you, Toby?â€ The young Briton felt his pulse quicken at the sight of Tobyas. He looked very well kitted out in fine chain mail of a battle cleric. The maturity that marked his hard-fought background added to his draw. How much of this feeling was from the curse? Crispian asked himself. â€œDâ€™Vena has come to town again,â€ Toby said quietly. It was not wise to speak overly of such matters so publicly, for surely she still had some influence and contacts within the city. People like her always did. â€œAnd she is vulnerable right now.â€ His tone carried a gravity that cut into Crispian. Dâ€™Vena? Vulnerable? He found the two ideas hard to mate up in his mind, knowing what she was able to work even from her cell within the Palace. â€œHow do you know this?â€ he asked, setting a mithril billhead aside to cool and giving his full attention to Tobyas. â€œTell me what you have learned.â€ Tobyas weighed everything he had heard, and how he had heard it. â€œI know she passed into the City yesterday, with only the company of two others. I also have it reported that there are men leading pack beasts that are not merchants coming from the same direction she did.â€ He felt the piercing look Crispian was giving and suddenly knew how the battlefield scouts must feel when they reported to him. His repute on the field was having high praise for his scouts and recalling them well, but demanding an exacting report from them. â€œI also know that the place she has taken lodgings at is not well suited for a defense on her part yet. She must take time to make all in readiness, and until then, she is exposed to more mundane threats.â€ His last words were couched in meaning. Crispian ran a hand over his face and a look of weariness came over him. He considered it all. Could he strike at Dâ€™Vena with a mere sword, no matter how enchanted Toorc reported it to be? Would she really be that vulnerable, that exposed? â€œWhat of her retainers, the two who came with her?â€ He turned his attention back to the bill haft he was working on, dividing mind between the two tasks so that he might slide into consideration. â€œWhat do you know of them?â€ Tobyas sighed and looked upward. â€œNext to nothing. They did not travel armed, but I think you have to consider the possibility that they are capable warriors.â€ He wished that Dâ€™Vena had tipped more of her hand, but she was cagey. â€œSo, I am really looking at three foes?â€ â€œAye, so it would seem,â€ Tobyas said quietly. He knew from experience that three foes would be hard to face, especially since one of them was a highly trained Sorceress of great renown. â€œI would accompany you, if you would have me.â€ Crispian looked up from his work, the billhead almost fitted to the shaft of the polearm. â€œNo,â€ he said flatly. â€œThis is not really your fight. You were just drawn in.â€ His expression told Tobyas that the topic was closed. â€œHowever, you can bless me for the fight, if you would,â€ he allowed as he fixed the head in place. â€œFind Jash, and Azi. Weâ€™ll meet at your church in two hours time.â€ Tobyas nodded. His heart was in his throat and his stomach ached with anxiety. The risks were so great, for both he and Crispian. He rose and gave a small nod and a salute. â€œAs you wish it, my Liege,â€ he said rather formally, a tight grimace on his face. With a turn, he made his way from the square and back toward the Shadow Quarter. His thoughts were so torn, so scattered. With feet guiding him more than thought, he made his way back to the church. He went first to the chapel and sank to his knees in prayer. He prayed that the Almighty would provide for a victory, firstly. Then, he said deep felt prayers for the love he knew he would lose, but for victory nonetheless. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/get back up there. :P -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian made to leave the forge area as soon as possible. He delivered the bill to Magus Algfyn and accepted payment, although his mind was not on it. To move against Dâ€™Vena, he thought, was almost going to be a madness in and of itself. He had not even made enough campaigns to be her equal in his own skills, let alone to fight hers. And he knew combat with casters. He had often faced them in the frontiers, at the keeps, and three times trying to take a relic keep. Often, it meant death, although a few times he had scored killing blows. It had always been with assistance. As he returned to the League Hall, his mind was already far ahead of his feet. He was sorely missing Darnyk right now, but the friar had been long out on the frontiers seeking his own equilibrium. Crispian did not begrudge him his time out there, but he did wish he had him at his side now. He went straight to his chambers via the side entry and avoided the main hall. At his desk, he began the letters he knew he must leave. A will he had had drafted months earlier was still valid. Most of his wealth would pass to the League, while his Office he asked to be bestowed on Jashen. He added a codicil, asking that his armor be given to Azi for refitting and his weapons to Gythus, a young and promising armsman in the League. As a last thought, he left a portion of his gold to Tobyas. He signed and sealed it, placing it with the will. Then, he sat and penned a letter to Mirashta. She who had raised him got a fond farewell that he hoped would not have to be delivered anytime soon. He poured his heart out to her, as he could not do in life, for words of comfort would be needed if he were to die. Finally, well that was in readiness, he sealed it, too. His personal signet marked the wax. Similarly, he wrote a letter to an elf from Hibernia, not knowing how it would be delivered. Ayslyn had played a large role in the struggle when it began and proper thanks were due him. His missives in order, he turned to his chest and drew out the sword that Toorc had given him weeks before. He weighed the sword in his hand. Could this blade actually deal a deathblow to that woman? Did he have the skill to even strike such a blow? He had doubts and knew that he must shutter them aside if he hoped to succeed. He raised the cross hilt to his lips and kissed it, sliding into a worn sheath on his back. Fate would put him to the test, and he must see it out now. The Price was about to be paid in full, one way or the other. -- The youth wrapped on the door three times before it opened to show him a tall Avalonian in a deep blue robe. â€œI has a message for Lady Azi,â€ he blurted out. A shiny gold coin was under his foot, reminding him of how important Fadder Toby had said the job was. â€œAnd Iâ€™s to give it to hers,â€ he said, trying to look more grown up. Ascot smiled down at the lad, for despite his career choice, he was a kind man. â€œLady Azi is resting within child, but I can give her your message when she wakes,â€ he said in a low tone, trying to appear as unthreatening to the boy as possible. â€œNo, sir, Fadder Toby said onlies to gives it to her and none other,â€ he blurted again, and clamped a hand over his mouth. Toby had told him not to reveal the source to anyone. Oh, bother, but he was in trouble now. His eyes grew wide with a fright as he stared up at Ascot. â€œTobyas is it? Well, lad, perhaps we should go give it to Azi then!â€ Although Ascot was well aware of Aziâ€™s anger at the betrayal handed her by Tobyas at his church, he also knew the young cleric himself and honestly felt that he would not send ill words through a messenger. This had to be good tidings or grave need. Either of which Azi should hear soon, he knew. He drew the boy into the house of Judan Hammerfel and they headed upstairs together. The cabalistâ€™s hand rested on the boyâ€™s shoulder in guidance and a measure of restraint as well. -- Jashen was moody, to say the least. His thoughts were running most black at the moment as he dredged up the hurts he would need to have at hand to hurl at Crispian. He was struggling to make the hatred he would need for his brother. His soul and heart ached as he prepared the onslaught that he was to bring. The knock on his door shocked him for his thoughts, but did not improve his mood. â€œWhat?â€ he snapped at the wood. â€œMessage, Sir Jashen,â€ a young voice piped. He knew immediately it was not Ardy, for the highlander did not sound like a young girl or pre-teen boy. With an impatient grunt, he crossed to the door and opened it. He saw there a barely teen-age boy, looking a bit frightened. He was sure the look on his own face did not give the lad cause for hope of laying that fear aside. â€œWell, speak, boy!â€ he snapped. â€œSir, if it please ye, Tobyas wishes you to meet â€˜im and yer brother at his church just after the second hour of noon,â€ he stammered out, hands clasped before him. His eyes were riveted to the floor it seemed. He was almost as tall as Jashen, though younger. Jashen felt badly for acting so gruff toward him, but was still in no mood to apologize. â€œToby sent you?â€ he asked harshly, hand already reaching for his plain cloak. He missed his old one with the emblem blazoned upon it, but white was not a good color to sneak around in. As he settled it on his shoulders, he also checked his three blades, making sure they were ready for use and smeared with poisons. â€œTake me to him, lad. You did well.â€ Although still scowling, Jashen followed the lad out of the League Hall. Tobyas had never asked him to be fetched anywhere, in all these weeks. Something had to be going on. Jashenâ€™s pulse quickened slightly as they made their way through the streets of Camelot. --to be continued-- -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((thanks to Azi for two corrections!!)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The small chambers pressed in on her. Oh, how she hated skulking and sneaking! She looked at a man in the street below pushing a cart. He seemed content, she thought with a scowl. Her hands moved and the man reeled. She pulled life out of him although she had no need for it. Her will touched his physical self and made him a palsied wreck of a being. She smiled. â€œIflar! Jerish!â€ she snapped out at her companions. â€œI told you I wanted furnishing!â€ They stared at her in some surprise. Had she told them? Or just thought about it? Her forehead furrowed up. â€œWell, get to it!â€ she nearly screamed, pulling her voice back at the last minute. It would not do for the shop keep below to hear too much. â€œAnd then, make ready to leave for a bit. I want to see this Pompin in Cotswold. Something there is about that,â€ she trailed off as her fingers toyed with her hair. Overall, she was in a state of dishevelment. Her hair was a near tangle, and she still had on the gown she had traveled in. The only things she had unpacked yet were the small figurines of her foes and the milky dome she scried through. One hand absently fell to the small one, with the golden hair. Her eyes quivered in their sockets. Her pledge, her bargain. It was coming due. Her eyes flicked about the room. The attentions of that other had been slipped, she knew. She had bound that lad into its needs for a short time. Surely, it would be looking for her already. She needed to end this. It wanted to play more with them all, the feed on their miseries. But she wanted her revenge! With a strike much like a mental slap, she staggered. Her eyes bulged for a moment. â€œPlease, please, I only want this one thing done,â€ she muttered quietly, then giggled. It was back, and very unhappy with her. She felt her mind flushed with its fullness and presence. A shudder of ecstasy swept through her, a rapture, much as she had known that first time she made an offering to It. Then, her punishment began. Her mind filled with images that tormented her. The happy moments of her playthingsâ€™ lives. Smiles, laughter, true joys. She cried out in pain a moment before she began to cackle, a mindless sound from her lips that made even her companions flee the room. It was some time before she rose again to stand. Purpose and sanity both flickered unevenly in her eyes with madness. Yes, she would see Pompin, and maybe this little woman who was causing problems with her toy. Who was a little cabalist to stand before her might? Her power? She laughed a mirthless laugh and set about putting her things in order. It would not have her go about so unkempt. -----signature-----
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	A pent up hatred that had been countered for years by the now missing Merlinâ€™s magic and then by Morgana in her goal for singular dominance now boiled forth in one enclosed mind. Dâ€™Venaâ€™s entity, spirit and will were dwarfed under the towering rage of the force she herself had called upon. Her discipline and training gave her no solace as the being tore into her mind, delving with a force it had not used before. It had a thirst for misery that was unquenchable. It played snippets of pain and suffering that she had inflicted and even fed on what she herself had felt. With a tittering joy it raped out every moment of low character in her life, every petty thing she had ever done, every plan she had ever laid. Dâ€™Vena quivered. Her hands tremored as she yanked a hard bristle brush through her hair. She did not even notice when she pulled clumps full out by the roots. She was far beyond such small, physical discomforts. Her retainers came back, quietly. They hovered out of her sight as she sat grooming herself. A constant chuckle came from her, but there was a new quality to it. The sound shifted in tone and quality. It would be a child, slightly amused by some trick, then a man acknowledging some jest, and woman pleased with the touch of a suitor, all in the blink of an eye. The scintillating nature of it was unnerving, as if dozens of entertained people were inhabiting her mind behind her sightless eyes. At length, about a quarter hourâ€™s time, she rose, stepping from her stained gown and drawing a new one to her. Her hands moved as if weights were on her wrists. With slow, fumbling movements, she tied the laces on the bodice of the gown and turned to them. When she spoke, her lips skinned back far from her teeth, exposing pale pink gums and teeth yellowed with unnatural age. She raised an arm and stabbed a claw-like finger at one. â€œYou shall take me to this Pompin man, that we might know him,â€ she said. The purality of her statement lacked the command of a noble sense, but was rather as a leader speaking for many. â€œWe would know what has been done to him,â€ the voice, not Dâ€™Venaâ€™s said. Shaking, he opened the door for the body of his one-time Mistress and bolted forth. He pulled ahead further than Dâ€™Vena could keep up with. Immediately, his body froze, caught in a simple sorcery. Dâ€™Vena drew even with him and looked into his eyes. He felt that other presence push upon his mind. â€œDo not go quickly while we adjust to our new home,â€ it said, then gestured and he was released. The body was not pleasing to it. She had let herself slip in these months, going soft in a displeasing way. It would look for something better when this one needed to rest. No point in living in a squalid dwelling. It did not like to take up abodes beneath Its station. It shambled along behind the retainer, taking in the sights of Camelot for the first time in many centuries. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas knelt with head bent in prayer. He struggled with what was to come, but could not refuse Crispianâ€™s wish. He was scared, of the outcome, of the loss he knew he would feel. His thoughts raged at the injustice and mercilessness of it all. Was not the Almighty just? Did He not show mercy? Then why did it all come to this? A confrontation that Crispian could scantly hope to win and one that either way would leave Tobyas bereft of love. Was this what was meant by Divine Mercy? To be laid bare to the soul, and not even to be able to grieve publicly? For would they not revile him if he professed how he felt to people? Most would sneer, or jeer, and some even spit at him. Such was the narrow view of love in the world. He cursed under his breath when the rapping on the outer door reached his ears. He rose on shaky knees and wiped his face on a hand towel. Pausing to gather himself, he opened the door and saw one of his young urchins. â€œAh, Ismer!â€ he beckoned the lad in. He was a Saracen by birth, but born into a family taken prisoner during the Crusade. â€œWhat news have you for me?â€ Although he had left word not to be disturbed, children had a different sense of the urgent than adults. He supposed it was the cost of doing business with children that few people saw or noticed. Of course, that was what made them such excellent sources of information. â€œPardon, Father,â€ the lad said, touching forehead, lips and heart in an eastern greeting. â€œBut I was watching the rooms you asked us to and saw a woman leave with a man.â€ His large brown eyes looked at Toby with trust and respect. â€œIt was just some minutes ago,â€ he added. â€œA woman? Tall, striking looking?â€ His pulse raced as fast as his thoughts. Dâ€™Vena should not be out and about in the city! What if a guard saw her! What if she was arrested? Even the King would have to allow a trial in public and that could take weeks! His worries about the outcome of whatever Crispian had planned were stopped cold as a new worry came up: What if they could not move on her in her quarters? And more followed on the heels of that: What if she got her spell needs taken care of? Then it would be as bad as when she was in her manse. â€œWell, what did she look like, Ismer?â€ he asked, his voice tight with panic and need to know. â€œYes, sir, she was tall, handsome woman, but crazed about the eyes like one in the sun of the desert too long,â€ the lad replied quietly, his attentive nature taking in the sweep of emotion on Tobyasâ€™s face. â€œDamn her! Damn her to seven levels of hell eternal!â€ He was up in a moment, grabbing for cloak and mace. â€œQuickly, get back and follow her! She must not be unobserved at any time!â€ He was through the door before Ismer could reply. What sort of game was she up to? Why would she be out? And what if Crispian ran into her as he made his way into the Shadow Quarter? He practically ran out the front door to the church, chain boots crunching on the paving stones. His cloak whipped in the wind of his passage. Still, his last thought lingered. Was Crispian in the Shadow Quarter yet? -----signature-----
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Sorcery is an art of finesse and guile. The imposing of your will over anotherâ€™s will is never a simple task. Dâ€™Vena possessed great skill at this art. The Presence that filled her did not. Centuries of being battered about and expelled from hosts had pushed it to the ravening edge of madness. The final blow from the pure and chaste Galahad had completed the journey. It had stood for ages as a power, sometimes thwarted, but not often. Ramses II had listened to it until that adopted son of their father had turned back to his roots and called plagues. Herod the Great had given it heed, and had it not been the astronomers from the East, the man-god would have died a mewling infant. In the near millennia since then, it had run, hidden, and been chased. But here, in this woman, it had found a new home. Her eyes allowed It to see, her body gave It feeling. But sanity was something of which It had only a remote remembrance. It acted on impulse, and not all the impulses were its own. Its host still could recognize and inform It. And she did. The sloping road out of the Shadow Quarter had long been called Fletcher Way. The shop at the base of the road was the best spot in all of Camelot for arrows and their materials. Those who hunted and fletched came here for supplies and sundries. It was also the most used roadway into the Shadow Quarter. Many people passed along it daily and it only made sense that Crispian would use it also. He strode down the center of the pathway in gleaming plate mail. He had the confidence of a man who had few who surpassed his skills, although there were those that did. He also had the added edge of one who had made peace with himself and his fate. A sense of determination emanated from him and caused some to move out of his way. His eyes had the look of one going into great battle with the full knowledge of how it may end. It was not a look that those accustomed to shadow and guile liked to be confronted with. She glimpsed him in passing. Her beauty was not as it had been. When last he had seen her in the flesh she had not been this gaunt, nor this pale. She moved passed him, maddened eyes fixing on him a moment. Her mind pleaded and begged. She wanted to do some small working, just a mere casting on him. Please, would it be allowed? With a giggle of girlish delight, she got her permission, but she had not long, Mirth would not be delayed in the task it had. Mirth informed her of this. She moved her hands quickly in a pattern long remembered. It used to be such a simple spell, but now she had to work to recall how it should function. With a pass, it was released. Head tipped in joyous amusement; Dâ€™Vena carried Mirth forward toward Cotswold. Crispianâ€™s step faltered. His shoulders sagged. With a shake of his head, he raised a hand to his forehead. This was no time for a headache to set in, not like this. He winced at the sharpness of the pain, eyes closing. He opened his eyes and looked about. What a run down area, he thought. Surely whoever was Lord Mayor of this city could do a better job at its upkeep. He took in the fine armor he wore, the obviously fine weapons, and the heavily embroidered cloak. He looked about, seeing a young man in armor like his own. â€œYou there,â€ he called as he walked toward him, â€œwhere is the barracks hall?â€ With a strange look of confusion, the guardsman spoke. â€œTis by the East Gate, Sir Crispian,â€ he said in puzzlement. Crispian nodded and turned, walking toward the east. He was pleased to see that the city got cleaner as he moved. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump due to work not giving me time to write a lot today -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian wandered the street, turning toward the Defenders of Albion guild halls at the eastern gates to the city. He continued to look about with a slightly bemused expression on his face. What a wondrous city this was. The was admiring the sweeping square before the Defendersâ€™ main hall when Tobyas came pounding down the road. Crispian turned at his called greeting and saluted. â€œHail, good Sir Cleric!â€ he called, for somehow he knew this was a cleric of the Church. â€œCrispian, Dâ€™Vena is somewhere in the city,â€ he gasped out, resting hands on thighs and bent at the waist as he caught his breath. He had not slowed since he had left the church. His face was flush from the dead out run. â€œIs this a bad thing?â€ he asked. Apparently, he was this Crispian fellow. However, the name that the cleric had blurted out meant nothing to him offhand. Perhaps it was some villainous individual whom the Crown wanted. Sure the fine armor he wore meant he had some office for the King, as denoted by the heavy chain about his neck. â€œShould I be seeking her out?â€ Toby gaped in surprise. â€œDâ€™Vena, she who cursed you?â€ he asked in shock. His mind was racing as fast as his heart, although the latter was slowing down. â€œDo you not know her?â€ His ears surely had betrayed him. He gently turned Crispian toward the Leagueâ€™s Hall. â€œPerhaps we should talk to Tinowan,â€ he suggested. â€œTinowan?â€ Another name that meant nothing to him. â€œAnd where are you taking me, Sir? And who art thou?â€ He drew himself up and pulled his away from the taller man. â€œI was seeking the Defendersâ€™ Hall to find out what my mission is in this city.â€ His voice was so altered that Toby was taken aback again. â€œI, ah, understand, your Lordship,â€ Tobyas lied smoothly with a bow. â€œObviously, some malaise is upon you. I am Tobyas, advisor to your post here in the City.â€ He kept his face perfectly neutral and hoped that Crispian would attribute the sweat on his brow to his recent run. â€œIf you come with me, I shall bring thee to thy quarters, Lord,â€ he continued, badly misusing his pronouns. Crispian did not notice in the least. â€œVery good, Sir Tobyas,â€ he said with a nod of his hand, waving a hand in approval. Tobyas led off toward the League Hall, praying the Tinowan or Phalos would be there. He took a most direct route, but avoided the Guild of Shadows and that quarter of the city that lay beyond. They entered the hall, Tobyas just a step ahead of Crispian. Mercifully, it was still mostly empty as many of the League had intended to hunt this week. They were flush from modest success on the frontier and so wished to stretch their skills while they felt most in form for it. Tobyas noticed Tinowan perched on a stool pouring over a tome. The young sorcerer was serious even for a caster and devoted much time to his work and craft. Although he had received the accolade of knighthood from Crispian, he did not adorn himself with either spurs or belt except for at the most formal of functions. Toby liked him and even trusted him. â€œHail Sir Tinowan!â€ he called as they approached. Crispian was busy looking over the interior of the expansive hall. The banners that hung for each house in the Alliance, as well as some proclamations of accord for those who had earned the highest esteems in the Realm; Dracarn, the paladin, Mirashta the Wizard, and Oakleif the Armsman had each been elevated as high as their professional guilds could advance them. â€œWe have a bit of a problem,â€ Toby said quietly, indicating Crispian only with his eyes. â€œI believe that it is related to your craft.â€ Tino, as he was called at the Hall, looked up from his studies and followed the shift of eye Toby gave him toward Crispian. He had much respect for the Seneschal of the League and had seen few signs of this curse that was often spoken of. â€œWhat do you mean, Toby?â€ he asked quietly. The conspiratorial look that Toby gave him was caution enough. â€œIt seems His Lordship has lost his ability to recall facts and relationships,â€ he said through barely moving lips. Crispianâ€™s examination of the room was near to an end and he was drawing near where the two of them whispered. â€œAnd I think it was sorcery.â€ Tino almost grinned, even though this was a serious matter. Few people followed sorcery these days and even fewer advanced to any great degree. He himself was almost in the fortieth circle of Sorcery and his companions in the Art were becoming fewer with each level of mastery he attained. â€œLet me see what I can discern,â€ he said, turning back toward his book as Crispian approached. â€œAh, a clark!â€ Crispian declared as he neared the caster and Tobyas. â€œArt thou a scribe, Goodman?â€ he said with a tone of haughtiness in his voice. Tino smirked quickly before turning to Crispian. He had worked a small detection magic while he was turned away from him and immediately he could detect the poorly laid spell. It seemed almost to be a bear thought much like the work of a novice. He bowed his head in greeting. â€œNay, Lord, I am Tinowan, sorcerer and Knight to your Order,â€ he informed him levelly. â€œAt your bidding as always, My Lord.â€ As Crispian frowned in thought, trying to place this man as a knight he may know, Tinowanâ€™s fingers began to move. Sorcery is rarely subtle and soon a noise of rising level became evident. Crispian immediately turned his full attention to Tinowan. â€œWhat is it you doing man?â€ he asked sharply. There was no reason that Crispian would distrust magic, but he did this manâ€™s magic. Tobyas leapt into action, flinging his arms up in prayer and calling a small smite of Divine Power upon Crispian, who reeled from the blow, being caught unprepared as his attention had been focused on Tinowan. As he shook his head and turned toward Toby, positive it was a plot not against him, Tinowan loosed his spell. It too caught Crispian off guard, but differently. The pulse of the magic coursed over him, causing shards of light to flash against his armor. Tinowan had used a powerful counter-spell, as he did not know if the hasty amnesia spell had been just a cover of greater workings or not. Crispian staggered, grabbing at the table, and went to his knees. Both men were at his side in a moment, examining him closely as he blinked repeatedly. He closed his eyes a moment as if in pain, and when he opened them again, recognition was again in them. â€œTino, Toby! What am I doing back here?â€ He could last remember Fletcher Way into the Shadow Quarter, and then nothing more. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/my own morning bump Editting....editting.... -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian had rested the afternoon in his chamber, still oddly empty feeling due to the absence of Tannir. He awoke and made himself ready and then went down to the League Hall. Several members of the League were about doing a variety of tasks and chores related to their trainings or interests. He smiled. It was good to see the family together, he thought. The League, he felt, would go on. â€œForgive my tardiness, all,â€ he said to them. â€œI have been recovering from an event that happened to me earlier today.â€ Sir Bashir, a scout, and knight of their band, looked up from where he worked on a long bow damaged in his hunt. â€œAnd what event was that?" he asked. He was a Saracen, but still stood inches taller than Crispian. â€œHe woke up and wasnâ€™t on a tavern floor,â€ Arcalan said dryly. Azi looked scaldingly at her. â€œEvent?â€ she asked. â€œWhat happened?â€ She looked aside at the cabalist. â€œArcalan!â€ she hissed at her. â€œI had a moment of amnesia, it seems,â€ Crispian explained. â€œThanks to Tine, I was able to get clear of it,â€ he said, looking for the young knight and sorcerer, who was not about. Apolexia, recently joined the League, a young and earnest mercenary, but a crafter of renown in her right, looked from her chair to the young Lord. Her face was a tangle of concern and interest. â€œAmnesia?â€ she asked, even as Aziâ€™s voice echoed the same word. Crispian took a seat near the small hearth that favored the northern wall of the room and took the tankard of ale that Bashir passed to him. â€œAye, seems a sorcerous spell,â€ he explained, taking a very measured drink from the tankard. Arcalan watched and seemed amused that he did not drain it straight off. Azi muttered a very unpaladinlike oath under her breath. Crispian smiled at her. â€œNo worry, Azi. Tino did aid me,â€ he assured her. â€œAnd can you think of a sorcerous enemy, my Liege,â€ Arcalan asked mildly, â€œthat may have access to you?â€ Her eyes were fixed on him. Let him try to explain off all that this Dâ€™Vena woman entailed in the matter, she thought. It would only serve to further her own great efforts in the matter. Apolexia cleared her throat in a polite cough. â€œSorcerer or cabalist?â€ she asked without rancor or slight. It seemed that there was an undercurrent between her and Arcalan. Arcalan looked blandly at Apolexia. An earlier tiff between the two of them still smarted with the cabalist. â€œOh, Lexi,â€ she purred, â€œdidnâ€™t you know weâ€™re much the same, since weâ€™re mages.â€ Her observation was tinged with a hint of acid. The little crafter girl had gotten under her skin quickly. She would have to keep her on list of people she would deal with later. Azi ignored them both. â€œThank Heaven for that, Crispian,â€ she said. â€œDamn Dâ€™Vena!â€ As she spoke, Zoeld, a young wizard, entered the hall with a friendly hail to them all. Many greeted him in return. Crispian took the moment to look around at all who were there. Two knights, Phalos and Azaeli, with Marzan the Standard Bearer, Hseru, Vayn and Arcalan represented the junior officers at Lieutenants, with Zoeld and Altheah as sergeants. Lexi and Bromton, although field veterans, were ranked as Artisan and Master Artisan, respectively. Bashir must have slipped off to the hunt at some point without Crispian noticing. All in all, a good group of people to have, and representing almost every profession one could pursue in the Realm. Azi once again turned her intense gaze on Crispian. â€œMilord, how was Tino able to help you?â€ Her query was prodded in part from her own background in wizardry. She had first been a wizard of some skill, and her researches had gone beyond just her own craft in the Art and into other fields as well. Since taking up the sword, she had not lost any of her learning. Crispian relaxed into his chair. â€œHe was able to counter the spell due to his own expertise, thankfully,â€ he said rather blandly. He did not want to talk about how much it had scared him following it. Azi blessed herself. â€œIndeed,â€ she said, trying to keep some of her own worry from her voice. Were the stories true? She had taken them seriously, but she had felt so drained these last days, it was hard sometimes to sort out the waking and the sleeping thoughts. â€œBut,â€ Lexi ventured, â€œwhy would someone target you, sire?â€ She had known Crispian far longer than her time in the League, having only joined last week, and he had never seemed on to draw untoward attention to himself, or anything to rankle the ire of another. Even her joining had been handled with great care, as she had only recently had an acrimonious exchange with Montoya, her godfather. â€œâ€˜Tis a long story, Lexi,â€ Crispian sighed. â€œ I fear it may bore some...â€ He let his words trail off, hoping that he would not have to explain the full and sorted details of the entire affair. One look about the room gave him some hope. Lexi did, however, have a look of intense interest on her face. He really hoped to be able to get out of the full tale. â€œWell, it does explain why you never arrived this afternoon,â€ Azi observed. Lexi, however, never looked away from Crispian and with a sinking feeling he knew he would have to tell the story of this mess. â€œYou had some of us worried, Crispian!â€ He sighed, topping up his tankard of ale and tried to look comfortable. The truth was, he did not like speaking much in public and would really rather not. He was always a bit amazed at the reactions he got from people when he did, for they were generally favorable. â€œWell,â€ he started with a sigh, â€œto abbreviate the beginning some, a friend or tow of mine were in jeopardy due to a plot by a woman named Dâ€™Vena to discredit their families and guilds.â€ He thought that glossed over the entire mish-mash of events leading up to the start of it well. Lexi looked at him curiously. The name was not known to her, and her history was dappled with some creatures of ill will. â€œDâ€™Vena?â€ She tried to place the name in what she knew and came up with nothing. Arcalan arose from her seat. She certainly did not need to hear this entire tale again. Her own sources had revealed quite a bit of it to her. She stretched. â€œGoodnight, League,â€ she said rather quietly, gathering her things about her. Amid the goodnights from others, Lexi fixed Arcalan with a firm gaze. â€œGoodnight,â€ she said, holding her look, â€œCabalist Arcalan.â€ With a tight smirk on her face, Arcalan swept from the hall in her resplendent robes feeling a bit triumphant. As Azi settled to listen to a tale she knew well, she could not help but fix Crispian with an avid look. She knew the story well, but was fascinated with the retelling of it. It had a mix of thrill and dread that held her for some reason she could not pin point. Delian entered the hall during Arcalanâ€™s exit. Crispian continued on, resigning himself to a full retelling of most of the facts. â€œAye, Lexi, D'Vena is her name. Now, a major problem was the extent of her plot against my friends, but none could get the information from her.â€ Lexi was fixated on the tale. â€œYou all know I was raised by a wizard, aye?â€ Crispian asked, looking over the group there. Lexi shook her head. â€œUm, no. You never told me that.â€ Azi nodded. â€œMirashta,â€ she informed Lexi. Lexi gasped. She knew Mirashta well. â€œMirashta? She raised you?â€ Her voice rose involuntarily. Crispian nodded with a smile. â€œAye, Auntie Mir took Jashen and I on as babes when our parents died.â€ He missed her, if he were honest with himself. He had been too long from the hunt, too long consumed with this curse and all that surrounded it. He pressed on in the telling. â€œNow, it there is one thing a caster of any sort will teach you, it is to use every skill and option available to you. I mean, with all those spell lines to master, its always a matter of is ice better than fire or earth?â€ Lexi nodded. â€œGood question.â€ Azi answered her with a grin and quiet â€œQuite so.â€ â€œWell,â€ Crispian pressed on, â€œmy friends and I were faced with a dilemma. How to get inside D'Vena manse to ferret out these secrets?â€ Apolexia, who had dealt with her share of intrigue, smirked. â€œWithout her knowing preferably?â€ Crispian had to shake his head in amusement with her. It was easy to forget, due to her age, that much had surrounded her life already and there was still much he did not know of her. â€œAye, indeed! That was a great concern!â€ he admitted. With only a mild look of indulgence, Lexi prodded him on. Although slow to get started, she could tell that Crispian was warming to the topic. â€œSo howâ€™d you do it?â€ she asked. She seemed prepared to hang on his recounting, which was not a feigned thing at all. What was this whole mess about? She asked herself. With a note of caution to herself, she prepared for more. Her own story was twisted and troubled, and it seemed she had arrived in the League on the eve of its own trouble-twisted moment. --to be continued-- -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Apolexia Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bumps waiting for crispian to finish -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian considered his answer for a moment. â€œWell,â€ he started, feeling incredibly young suddenly, â€œto be honest, I planned it all poorly. I knew so little of D'Vena other than she was powerful, vile, and, well, lonelyâ€ He did not add that he had considered other aspects to it and could not see another way about it. Azi sighed; knowing that what was to come could be embarrassing and revealing. Crispian blushed at her sigh, for she had gotten much of the uncensored tale already. â€œWell, I, ah,â€ he paused, considering his next words carefully, â€œplied her with wiles and wine to win her attentions.â€ He paused; knowing that no one in this group here assembled was not worldly enough to go from his statement to the truth of the matter. It was not that great of a leap of thought to make, in any case. With a slight â€œhmmm,â€ to herself mostly, Lexi shifted her position slightly, leaning back but not decreasing her attentiveness. â€œSo what then?â€ she asked. With the skill she had for speaking, she did not need to pack her words with tones or shades of innuendo. With growing evidence of discomfort, Crispian went on. His scarlet face had not yet returned to normal. â€œWell, uh,â€ he paused, clearing his own throat, â€œwhen she was, um, resting, I snuck about her place and found letters she intended to send in the names of my friends alleging GREAT treachery against the crown, and threatening a marriage D'Vena did not approve of!â€ He looked about hoping that some of the others had stopped listening only to find that they were still paying close attention. Azi sipped at her tea, not looking at the others. Delian and Phalos were both obviously listening, and Lexi looked at him expectantly for more. He tried not to sigh as he went on. â€œWell, I snuck out,â€ he pressed on, â€œand went to my friends with the news. Now, after I told them of the plot, things got interesting. First, one of them took us to the King who said we needed evidence.â€ He did not mention Moryanâ€™s comments about his not getting the evidence his first time there, or at the smug amusement of she and Arguyle MacFadden at the whole thing. â€œWell, faced with the King wanting proof, what was I to do?â€ He looked over the listening group and saw a slight level of amusement, although he was not sure if it was from his oversight in not grabbing those documents the first time, or the skill with which he had put himself into the predicament. Either way, he was sure they would press on for more of the tale. He took a draw from his tankard; noting that it was still was mostly full. He realized that he had also been toying with Ayslynâ€™s sphere. â€œSo I went back again, and uh (blushes again) repeated the performance,â€ he said quietly into the rapt stares that were on him. He did not like reliving all the details of the second trip to that mansion. â€œWell, to make it short, I got the letters and got out, and we then moved to arrest D'Vena and all hell broke loose!â€ He managed to put a lot of amusement into his tone for that closer. Apolexi allowed the moment to pass with a slight smile. â€œHow so, sire?â€ she asked, again prodding Crispian along to reveal more of this story. She had to get the measure of it so that she could figure out what, if anything, she wished to do about it. Crispian considered how many details to reveal in the telling. There was so much tied up in the story that had little bearing on the current state of things. He decided to go straight to the end story. â€œWell,â€ he said, looking at the ceiling in thought, â€œthe place was set afire, the guardsmen fought us, and suddenly everything was going bad.â€ He could still see the bloodied courtyard, the burning of the great building, the dead guards lying about amid the bodies of some in guild cloaks and others in the Royal livery. â€œThen it seemed that D'Vena would escape,â€ he finished. The memories of the event were far fresher than he had thought. Lexi looked at him with some surprise at this. â€œSeemed to?â€ she asked, her voice again rising in excitement. â€œSo you stopped her?â€ Despite all of her own woes and tales, she still had such an eager tone in her voice, an enthusiasm of youth about her words. Crispian could not help but smile at that. He had always liked both the serious side and this excitable side of Apolexia, even back when they were crafting together at the forge. â€œWell, she tried to get away for sure, and Arguyle and I rushed in to get her,â€ he continued. How well he recalled those blazing walls that had been to either side of them and the thick smoke. â€œThe building collapsed about us, and I pushed him to avoid a beam and hit by one, but ultimately I was gotten out.â€ He did not go into the burning beams and the horror of it all. â€œHowâ€™d you get out?â€ Lexi asked, even as he was pressing on with the tale. â€œAs she was being arrested,â€ he went on, seeing her in the smoke stained gown, surrounded by Royal troops, â€œshe did however get a spell off on me, a most hateful spell.â€ The question registered on him. â€œOh, some Red Lions pulled me out,â€ he said to Lexi. He could remember seeing Tannir, Jashen, and then Darnyk as he regained his senses that morning. As Azi uttered another curse under her breath, Lexi fixed him with a serious look of questioning. â€œWhat spell was that?â€ she asked, her words full of important meaning. Crispian looked down, his face ashen. â€œA grave and serious curse it was,â€ he said very quietly. â€œAnd is.â€ He did not want to go into all the particulars of it again. It was struggle enough. Lexi looked positively expectant. â€œYes, yes! What was it?â€ She almost sounded like a child waiting for a surprise of some sort. Delian too wanted more. â€œYes, what is it, Crispian?â€ he asked. Azi slammed a fist into the arm of her chair. â€œWHAT are we going to do something about it, then?â€ she hurled at him. She felt as though everytime any one of them made some sort of progress on this, there was some sort of set back. And if Crispian could be such a good commander in the field, what could he not make some decision to act on this? Was it really so bad? Her scowl cut across all other reactions in the room. Crispian scowled. â€œWell,â€ he said gravely, â€œit pushes my wants out of order, when she puts her mind to it.â€ He prayed he would not have to go into further detail. Apolexiaâ€™s brows nettled. â€œYour wants?â€ She was not sure what he was getting at with that. He thought a moment on how best to neutrally phrase it all. There were so many things he could consider saying. â€œAye, my wants,â€ he said quietly. â€œFor example, I drink ale,â€ he lifted his mug for a small pull, â€œa lot, when Dâ€™Vena is overly attentive to me.â€ He felt that put it into a good context. â€œBut this has been a struggle for some time now.â€ His face became most serious. â€œNow, I have heard she is in Camelot, and I aim to slay her.â€ Aziâ€™s face pale at his words. Ascot had mentioned something about Tobyas wanting to see her but when she went to the church, he had been gone. Was this what it was about? Dâ€™Vena here? In the City? â€œYou heard what?â€ she asked in a voice barely more than a whisper, but that carried across the room. Even Lexi was struck by the drama of the revelation. â€œSheâ€™s here?â€ she asked, her eyes darting about as if Dâ€™Vena were in this same room as they were. â€œYou had not heard, Azi?â€ Crispian asked in surprise. Surely, Tobyas would have passed such important news to her, or Jashen. But Jashen was still down in the swamp, he thought. Mithralin picked that moment to enter the guild hail. Her robe trailed behind her. She still kept her hair up in a widowâ€™s braid. â€œHail League,â€ she said in her full and cultured voice. As others greeted her, Azi shook her head in disbelief. â€œI had heard rumors, but until not I wasnâ€™t certain,â€ she said in a voice full of dread. Crispian nodded, watching Azi and the rest of the assembly. â€œAye, â€˜tis true,â€ he said gravely. He had thought of little else since Tobyas had filled him after the amnesia spell had been removed. Dâ€™Vena had chosen to come back to the City. Now was his time to act against her. Azi shook her head in disbelief. â€œHow could it be? She is a fugitive!â€ Was not even this place to be safe this time around? It was horrid enough that Corroth had once slipped into the city, but now Dâ€™Vena too? With a slight roll of his shoulders, Crispian shrugged. â€œAccording to Toby, she snuck in,â€ he said offhandedly. What else could be done about it? It was a simple fact, a statement. Azi nodded, her blond braid bobbing as she did so. The color slowly filled her face again, but her eyes were still stunned. â€œThat explains so much,â€ she nearly gasped out. â€œLike what, Azi?â€ Crispian asked, concern rising as his still sluggish mind started to piece together some of what Azi might be getting at. So much had been happening these last few days. After so long of her being a distant threat that was unassailable, now Dâ€™Vena was at hand and it seemed to have set all to haste in this matter. Azi shrugged. â€œAh, nothing,â€ she smiled weakly. She did not want to go into everything before almost the entire guild. â€œI suppose itâ€™s my imagination, or coincidence,â€ she said, taking a sip from her tea. â€œNevermind, Lord. I think I am just tired.â€ She raised a hand to cover a forced yawn, praying that Crispian would let it pass. He leaned forward, his thickset shoulders bunching up. â€œNo, tell me, please,â€ he asked in that manner that made it almost a command, yet still something that could be denied. His eyes, however, made it clear to Azi that he did not want to be put off, nor that he would consider the audience a deterrent. He had laid much of his tale bare to these friends, his chosen family. Why would he now start to hide things? Azi lowered her hand. â€œWell, that is it exactly,â€ she said, including her yawn in her statement. â€œIâ€™ve been so exhausted for the past day or two.â€ She tipped her head to the side, hoping Crispian would catch what she was getting at without her having to explain. â€œAye,â€ he said, as his clasped hands met under his chin, â€œbut how so?â€ Azi laughed a disarming laugh. â€œHow ridiculous. Forget I said anything.â€ She gestured dismissively, to try to get the conversation moving away from her. Lexi looked at Azi with concern in her young eyes. â€œNo, please,â€ she said, a note of imploring in her voice. She had known so many who had suffered so much, and had done so herself. She would not just be idle and aside if there was someway that perhaps she could help. In her short life, she had already learned the importance of acting sometimes, even if acting caused you pain. Crispian nodded in agreement. â€œAye, Azi. You know how I value your council.â€ He did not have to tell her how strongly he did so. Council and company both from Azi had carried him through much of this already. â€œWell,â€ Azi said, her eyes sliding over those in the room, â€œit is about what I found I could do, milord.â€ She held Crispian with her eyes, entreating him to be silent on the exact details by her gaze alone. â€œReally?â€ he whispered out, excitement surge. â€œYou think that is affected by distance?â€ If it were, then they might have a greater chance of getting at Dâ€™Vena without having to expose Azi to her physically. No, he did not like the idea that she might try to work with that more now that Dâ€™Vena was closer. If Dâ€™Vena could hurl a spell at him in passing, could she not then assault Azi as well? And would it be as harmless as an amnesia attack? He thought not. Azi nodded gravely to him. â€œQuite so,â€ she said, her voice falling off even more. It had been easier when she was at that station, much easier than when she was in Barfog still. Crispian leaned back. â€œHow odd,â€ he observed. He was stalling to think through more of could possibly happen. He knew that spells were far easier to work the closer you were to your target, and he assumed that what Azi had learned to do would be most similar to a spell. â€œIt is easier,â€ she continued, â€œbut much more draining.â€ It had seemed to her that the more distant effort had been easier for Dâ€™Vena to miss, but that as she got closer, her attention would be more easily caught when Azi pushed her thoughts toward her target. â€œIt must be,â€ Crispian mused, â€œbecause her ability to counter you increases.â€ He let his eyes play about the wood trim work as he measured out the options. â€œYou should not try it.â€ The risks were immediately too great. If Dâ€™Vena should turn her attention to Azi, who had given up spell work for arms, she could wreak havoc of the greatest sort. He valued Azi far too much for that risk to be run. Azi shook her head slightly. â€œI barely have to try it,â€ she murmured. It had gotten much easier to pull off, just took much more out of her. Perhaps Dâ€™Vena was getting accustomed to her thoughts. Crispian was shaking his head. â€œAzi, I donâ€™t want you to explore it further.â€ He had taken on a tone of command with her, and immediately he knew that was the wrong things to do. Azi stiffened in her seat. â€œAs I told your brother, whatever you wish,â€ she said as her face reddened at his tone and she turned away. Having thrown his good graces toward the wind, Crispian reached for Aziâ€™s face. â€œRisk yourself no more,â€ he said in a much gentler tone. She yanked her chin from his hand with a curt, â€œFine.â€ â€œAzi, what is wrong?â€ he shot as her as she turned herself away from him. â€œA fine question,â€ she shot back hastily. â€œI know she has touched you, but I will have you risk yourself! And as soon as possible, I want Tino to have a moment with you.â€ He had snapped with a mix of concern and anger. â€œEverything I have done will have been in vain then!â€ Azi shouted at him, her frustrations at the entire situation that had continued on as it had been for so long welling up and overwhelming her. Even when it had been her in this situation, it seemed that she had done more to try to correct what was wrong. Did Crispian enjoy this? â€œYou think that?â€ he asked of her, shock and hurt in his voice. She rose to her feet, jaw fixed in stubborn opposition. â€œWell, you're telling me you do not need the only aid I can offer!â€ Crispian signed a mix of exasperation and concern washing over his face. â€œAzi,â€ he said with little strength of voice, â€œ I care too much for you to risk her mind in yours!â€ She squared her shoulders, eyes blazing at him. â€œIt is my risk to take. Not yours.â€ She reminded him sharply. He might be under this curse, but the actions that people could take to help him were not his to say yea or nay to, thought he be Lord Seneschal of the League. Crispian looked suitably abashed. â€œAye, it is, he said in a much milder voice than before, â€œand I know this.â€ â€œLeave it then,â€ she demanded. While she would hate to disobey him if he put it directly down to that, she would also not allow Crispian to make her helpless to come to his aid. Dodwyn, a young friar who had only just arrived, as well as having only lately joined the League, overheard the last of this. â€œPerhaps a bit of counseling at the church would aid ye two,â€ he suggested. The church was often of aid to young couples, he thought. Azi reddened, throwing her arms in the air. â€œArgh!â€ she yelled. â€œPlease excuse me. I am going home!â€ Crispian was on his feet. â€œAzi, I know where you live!â€ he shot at her as she turned. â€œAnd Dodwyn,â€ he said, turning on the friar, â€œthere is nothing more than friendship between us!â€ Azi was already out the door of the League hall. â€œExcuse me all,â€ he said as he went to follow after her. By the time he made the street, she was gone from sight. Damn! He thought, and let out a sigh of exasperation at the world. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi stormed down the street toward her little townhouse, fuming with anger in the aftermath of the conversation that had just come to pass. How could Crispian be so insensitive to command her to do something or not? Especially when it was AID she offered him. She barely nodded back at the respectful salutes and greetings of veteran guards who passed. And Tobyas, and Jashen? Where on earth WERE they? She flung open the door to the little townhouse with fury. Ascot looked up from the table, his quill stopped in mid-sentence, and Pappa turned from the stewpot at the hearth. Both stared at her with concerned expressions at her obvious upset. Azi yanked her guild cloak from the fastening rings at her shoulders, and heard a resounding tear of cloth. Immediately, she was sorry she had been so rough, and smoothed the fabric in her hands as Ascot and Judan looked on, stunned. "I'm tired." She said, choking back tears. "If anyone comes, tell them I'm not h.." Her voice faltered, she wouldn't ask her family to lie. "Tell them I don't wish visitors." She stormed up the stairs and slammed her door. She heard Ascot and Judan exchange muffled conversation, and Ascot entered cautiously a few minutes later. Without a word, he helped her out of her armor and turned his back as she stripped out of the under-leathers and into her nightshirt. He tucked her into bed and stroked her hair in silence as she let tears of frustration slip down her cheeks. "I wish I could say I'm through with it, Love," she looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Wish I could forget it all, pretend I know nothing." Ascot nodded and drew her close as she continued. "But I cannot." She choked, "I want to help, to rid us all of her evil. It's my duty as a paladin, as a friend... It's been so long." She slammed her fist into the down-filled mattress. "Now that she's here, and with all the weapons we have against her, it's so simple! What on earth is Crispian delaying for?!" And Jashen, she thought to herself as she drifted to sleep in Ascot's arms, what of Jashen's grand scheme? -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian wandered about the city in thougght for some time. He knew that Azi was gravely upset with his not wanting her to risk herself further with Dâ€™Vena. She was perhaps one of the few people who knew exactly what sort of threat Dâ€™Vena could be. He disliked what she was doing. His main concern was that Azi would be harmed, more permanently than he himself was. If he could only make her see that risk as he saw it. Ye Mug was a brief stop, for he found little distraction in the depths of an ale cup. That alone was small wonder. He knew that something must be going on with Dâ€™Vena for her to be remote to him. What was she about now? He moved over thinking it over more, the Azi matter. Were there safe guards for such work, or was it a risk he would have to let her run? So much hinged on her doing everything right. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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TheLaughter Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Exiting the city had proven far easier than entered it, she noted. The guardsmen were so polite to one as well appointed as she was. The long slope down to the guardian bridge was traveled at all hours, and even now people buslted over it on business of all sorts. Fools, she thought. What little they knew of what life was really about, or how to achieve true power. Mirth had wished to learn more of what the City was like, and so they had wandered. All the places it knew had changed in the scores of years since it had last been about. It drank in the essences of the place. Yes, there was work to be done here, It thought. Glimpses into those it passed by showed the wonderous want and malice in so many. Mirth knew that it alone could not take care of them all, but there were many clamoring for work back home. Once, near a shop of fine garments, the host, Dâ€™Vena had been stirred. Some little wordly thing had caught her eye. Mirth examined it for a moment, but discarded it. The creature would soon not care about such things, or those little humans she so obsessed on. All that would matter to her soon would be the will of the Master, whom even Mirth had to acknowledge. No, no time for petty things like clothing. Finally, as the sun sank low on the western wall, Mirth turned its attention again to this Pompin. It was time to seek that one out. It directed Dâ€™Vena in that direction and pulled back inwardly for the time. Cotswold. Yes, Mirth recalled there, too. They crossed the bridge and Mirth allowed that Dâ€™Vena creature to ask her little questions. When none could answer her, Mirth took the upper hand. Some peasant the female was talking to. â€œDo you know how long he has been gone?â€ Dâ€™Vena inquired, with mind and voice both, but the poor lass did not know. She frowned, then winced slightly in pain as Mirth woke and stirred inside her mind. In a dreadful voice full of the grave and suffering, she asked again, a voice that shifted intonation and value as she spoke. â€œWhen did you lassst see thisss Pompin?â€ The lasses eyes went wide in fright. A sudden chill, and the stentch of death, grasped her. She moved her mouth, but no sound came out. There was a hint of gibbering madness at the edge of her mind. With a sob, she sank to the ground, grasping her head in her hands. â€œI tolâ€™ ye, lady, I dinnae know when last â€˜e was about!â€ she wailed patheically, and Mirth laughed. The cackle and froth that spilt forth from Dâ€™Venaâ€™s move was inhuman. Mirth would look elsewhere then. It turned the creature back to the city, calling on Its own devices to find this Pompin. Mirth had the advantage of not being as alone as her nearly useless host. No, it had tools at Its desposal that this little human thing did not. -----signature-----
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyâ€™s urchins had been busy all day. The Father was unhappy that Dâ€™Vena had slipped off, and very distrubed with what had happned to Crispian. He put all manner of word out. He spent money freely to gain knowledge. It was just into evening when word reaced him that Dâ€™Vena was passing through the east gate from Cotswold. He ordered her followed, hoping she would go back to her rented rooms. He checked his equipment and gear and sent one of his entourage of children to find Crispian. If it was a good time to strike, Crispian would know better than Toby would. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	â€œAzi,â€ Judan said, gently nudging her awake. Azi rolled over and blinked at her father in the reddish light of sunset. â€œI hope you donâ€™t mind, Apolexia is downstairs, and she looks rather upset. I thought you might see her...â€ Azi groaned and rubbed her temples, she had been having the most awful dream... â€œYes, Pappa, Iâ€™ll see her,â€ She said, curious at the reason for the young weaponsmith's visit. She knew Lexi pretty well, and the two had a bond somehow that Azi hadnâ€™t felt with any other sister of the League. Or any other female, for that matter, Azi suddenly realized. She slipped out of bed and wrapped a robe around herself, settling on her writing stool as Lexi came up the stairs and peered shyly through the doorway. â€œCome in, Lexi,â€ Azi smiled kindly, hoping she didnâ€™t seem too tired. She nodded to the bed, and the young mercenary sat gingerly on its edge. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down. â€œTo what do I owe this visit, friend?â€ Azi tried to sound gentle and warm through her exhaustion. Lexi sighed and twisted the hem of her sleeve. â€œDo you remember, Azi, when you told me youâ€™d always have a listening ear, if I needed it?â€ Her eyes rested on Azi with a bitter sadness far beyond her years. Azi sighed inwardly, summoning even more strength for yet another friend in need, and nodded. Lexi sighed softly and leaned back against the wall. "My father... my real father... thinks I died when I was a couple months old..." She started, "I did not know this till just recently..." Azi leaned in and waited for the young mercenary to continue. "He owns a keep... down in the forest..." Her voice trailed off. "Which forest?" Azi prodded softly, awake now and willing to come to her friendâ€™s aid, even if just to listen. "The one that leads to the marsh of Adribard's." Her brow furrowed. "Caer Ulfwych? Ulfywch is your father?" Azi asked softly, and Lexi nodded in return. "The keep was named... after him.." She was forcing the words, as if each was too painful to speak. â€œI don't understand, Lexi.." Aziâ€™s tired brain refused to try and put things together, "Why all of this secrecy?" "Because,â€ Lexi looked down, her chin quivering, â€œI dont feel worthy of him." "What?!" Apolexia shrank away from Azi as she jumped up from her stool in disbelief. â€œHow can you say that?! Any father would be proud to have such a daughter!" "But you dont know...â€ She fought an inner struggle to speak the words, â€œbut if you'd like... I can tell you.." Azi nodded, leaning in, and Lexi continued. â€œThere was a man... a paladin... who was jealous of the Lord Ulfwych... He lusted for power... it consumed him... he exchanged his soul to a demon for this power... his name was Basaia..." Azi shuddered. Another tale of evil to contend with.. â€œThe demon... however.. had its own plans..â€ Lexi continued slowly. "The demon realized he could not overthrow the Ulfwych house as Basaia, it needed another way.. another means..." "Why was he so jealous of your father?" Azaeli asked, dipping her fingers in a nearby bowl of water and rubbing her eyes. "I dont know,â€ the youger girl shrugged, â€œpower? Station? Honor?" Azi nodded. "Forgive me, please go on." "But what happened was... when I was born, he collaborated with some of Osric's men to kidnap me, and to make it look like I had died...Using dark magics he made a mirror-image of my body... had his men kill the image... thus when my father arrived to find me I was dead" Azi felt a rush of darkness. Dâ€™vena touched her lightly, for the first time that day. She pushed toward it as Lexi continued, through the fog and darkness in her mind. She pushed and grasped, but Dâ€™venaâ€™s energy pulled away, and Azi found herself being shaken lightly by a worried Lexi. "You okay?" She whispered. Azi nodded, weakened. "Please forgive me, I was overcome with your story,â€ she lied, coming to sit beside Lexi on the bed. "The demon kidnapped you?" She took her hand and squeezed it, more for her own comfort than to comfort Lexi. "Well.. yes... he did... I did not know till recently what he was... or why he did it, but I do now... but it is too late.â€ Azi shook her head in disbelief. â€œLexi, are you telling me you were raised by a demon?" She made a gesture of holy blessing ofer herself and Apolexia, who sat quietly through it. â€œLexi?â€ "Yes?" Apolexia looked up wiping a tear from her eye. "You were?" "Um... yes..." She choked, "I knew him as grandpa..." Azi gasped. She herself had been through trials of evil and horror, and loss. But to be so effected by a member of her own family? She couldnâ€™t imagine it! "What of your mother?" "Mother died trying to fend off the raiders that took me..." "How can you bear it?" Azi asked,her heart going out to the poor girl. A tear slipping down her cheek. It was more than Lexi could take. She closed her eyes and brought her hands to her face, weeping openly as Azi drew her in a close embrace. The two rocked back and forth as Lexi released years of pent up emotions. "But...â€ Lexi choked, â€œthat is not the worst of it..." "Not the worst of it? I canot imagine anything worse!" Azi gasped, relaxing her hold but staying close. "Growing up... I was raised at the barracks of barfog...I never left the place... it was his plan to keep me up north... but I was trained in the arts of weaponry... I became the smith of the barracks... tending to the soldiers..." Her eyes became distant, as if in deep reverie. "If I had stayed,â€ she murmured, â€œit all wouldve been nice.. I came to Camelot in my early teens... apprenticed under the masters here...Grandpa always kept me away from what he was doing, secretly, so I could never find out the truth..." "How did you find out?" Azi prodded, rubbing Lexiâ€™s arm in comfort. "My grandpa had two purposes,â€ she recalled. "One was to overthrow the ulfwych house, the other was to overthrow the nobles that lived in snowdonia.â€ She shuddered. â€œHe convinced me that one of the nobles of snowdonia was actually possessed by a demon, and that he worked to free our people from her ruthless control." â€œOh, Lexi!" Aziâ€™s hand squeezed her arm in disbelief. "He then told me that she had mind-controlled the goblin king Smugluk, and was working to control the people.â€ She was recounting now, as if Azi wanâ€™t even there, as if she was pouring out everything as a release or a confession. "I of course... believed him... and one day while smithing... I was captured by a goblin, and brought forth to Smugluk.â€ She raised her reddened eyes, and looked past Azi to the window. "I spent a little over a year... in his dark prisons, until I was freed somehow by the people of Barfog in one of their raids against the Welschic Goblins. That was two years ago." "Dear Lord, you poor child!" Azi whispered, unable to keep herself from interrupting. "When I got out,â€ Lexi continued, â€œI had let my emotions topple me... I wanted her to pay for what she did to me..But in my heart... I had already known the truth...In my heart, I knew that there was no reason for a noble to want to capture me... I knew it had to be my grandfather... but I didnt want to believe it..I set out, and conspired to have her murdered...I had gotten others to help me... lied to them... and my plan was coming together... till..." She sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "Word reached me that the noble I had intended to murder was actually slain fighting against the midgardian hordes... a demon? Nay...I knew then the truth...The demon only wanted me to harden my heart... to enter the darkness... then leave the old frail body of my grandfather... and through me...Through me.. take over house Ulfwych as the rightful heir...." "Oh, Lexi!" Azi whispered, her heart breaking for the poor girl. Lexi wiped away a tear and continued. "But the demon's plot was foiled... by the noble dying when she had... all attention turned to him.. so he was forced to flee... leaving me with my guilt... and dishonor.." Azaeli tried desperately to comfort Lexi, drawing her again in a close embrace, and the girl nuzzled into her shoulder, allowing tears to flow. "No, no..â€ Azi whispered, â€œyou weren't in your right mind, you poor, dear thing. The guilt and dishonor is not yours to bear." "But I knew the truth! I knew what he was but I chose not to believe it!" Azi shook her head. "That was his power over you, you were not in control over your thoughts." Azaeli rocked Lexi softly. "But they were my thoughts!" She gasped through her tears, "I did want to kill her! I knew what he was! I..." "You were bitter and vengeful, and irrational.â€ Azi said matter-of-factly, then whispered, â€œOh, you poor thing...Lexi...of course you would want to convince yourself that the person causing you so much pain was some distant noble and not your own blood, the only family you had left!" "He may've been a demon... but... he was kind to me..." "Evil has many faces, just as good does. It can be kind, certainly it can." The face of Corrath flashed before her as she remembered him fastening jewels around her neck. "Kind.. yes..... but still.." Apolexia sighed, "I am a child of a demon... my crimes... if I were to admit them.. could place me under the executioner's block... I am such a coward! I am crude, uneducated... though Pelan tries... and rude to others... I have been raised around rough people and I have tried to kill..." "I see none of that in you. You are kind, and dedicated.." "I am... like how I was to Aculard today..." She shook her head. "Arcalan?" Azi asked, wondering if that was who Lexi meant. "Oh... yes... her too.." "Do not get me started on her, Lexi." She said sternly, "next to her, Dartmoor's dragon is a kitten." Apolexia nodded slowly, sniffing again. "I am a murderer... or attempted one... a criminal... a conspirer with demons..." She cried. "How could I ever tell my father... a paladin lord... that?" "Attempted murderer?â€ Azi shook her head. â€œNot of your won free will. Criminal? Perhaps, but under the control of a demon, who wouldn't be? Conspirer? With one that kidnapped you and killed your mother? I think not. More of a pawn." Azi shuddered, knowing that role well herself. "I can never go back to my father... I am an orphan now... sixteen... and the only thing I have going for me is that I can make blades...Still unable to read or write... what future do I have?" "Lexi." Aziâ€™s voice was cool and steady, filled with reason. Lexi turned tear-stained eyes to Azi, sniffling again. Azaeli loosed her arms from her friend and stretched her aching back. Exhaustion was setting in. "If you truly believe this in your own heart, that you are all of these evil things, and you see yourself as such a wretch of society, and such a danger to your father...Do you not believe he has the right to know? What has become of your grandfather? Don't you think it wise to warn Ulfwych of this impending danger?" "Grandfather is now gone,â€ Lexi said with certainty, â€œI can't feel his presence, and all know of his ways now.... my father is well warneed. I was overlooked.... no one noticed me.. thankfully..." Azi frowned, desperate to figure out a way to reunite this poor Lexi with her father. She had been through so much, she deserved to be as happy as Azi had been with Judan. â€œAs you said,â€ Azi argued, â€œyou're his heir, and his daughter...I cannot believe he would turn you away." "I am dead in his eyes, I would only cause pain and hurt..." "The reunion of a daughter who he thought he had lost? His only daughter? I can only see joy there." "Look at me!" Lexi jumped up, exasperated, and held her hands out to her sides, palms out. "I am a mercenary... taken to the ways of coin over honor...I am everything he hates..." It was obvious that she had considered all of this already, and made up her mind. â€œHow can you know that, when you have never met him?" Azi had no need to grasp for the compliments she was about to offer her friend. "When I look at you, I see a young woman of confidence and great skill. You are dedicated to your craft, and beautiful. I am proud to call you my friend, Lexi. And anyone who feels otherwise is sadly mistaken." "He is a noble paladin, I am a dishonorable wretch." She shook her head and sighed, rising to walk to the window. She stood there a moment, looking out at the forge where Judan worked steadily, then turned back to Azi, who came to stand beside her. "You have a father..." She looked at the floor, pushing a loose board with her toe. "I have one... but know him not...I know of what I am... I can never see him..." She turned and looked back out the window in a daze, her voice merely a whisper. "Never see him... I am dead... my real name isnt even Apolexia... "But it is my name now... I must leave it behind..." Azi rested a hand on the mercenaryâ€™s shoulder, and the two sighed in unison. Lexi broke the silence with a whisper. "I wish I had a family though... ones that cared..." With that statement, a flicker of an idea flashed across Aziâ€™s face. She wasnâ€™t certain what it was that caused her to offer, except that she felt such great care and concern for this poor girl. Perhaps it was the stress of Crispianâ€™s struggle, and her feelings of failure there, or her willingness to right every wrong, no matter what her own sacrifice. "Lexi, may I propose something to you?" Azi said with excitement. This was something she could offer, something that would be appreciated and taken fully as a gesture of much more than friendship. Lexi turned from the window to look at Azi. "Yes?" Her eyes widened slightly as Azi took her hand and squeezed it. Here was a friend who could understand everything Azi had been through. A sister in trials, a confidant. Her heart pounded as she thought of the words. "I have never before had a sister, or a brother. I grew up caring for my father through his madness. Alone, frightened." She smiled sadly. "Yes.. I know the feeling.." Lexi whispered. "I cannot pretend to know the heartache you've faced." Azi gulped, looking down at Lexiâ€™s hand "But since my mother passed,â€ she choked, â€œit has been so empty here." â€œWhat do you wish to say?" Lexi asked eagerly, her eyes meeting Aziâ€™s. There they stood, staring at each other in intense silence. Finally, Azi forced the words from her mouth before she could think twice about them. "I always wondered what it would be like to have a younger sister, Lexi." Apolexia opened her mouth to speak, but only released a tiny squeak of sound. "Consider it?" Azi blushed, almost feeling as if she was proposing marriage. Lexiâ€™s face lit up, she lunged at Azi, embracing her tightly. "I.... dont... know what to say..." "Pappa will have you, I'm certain." "I know him well," Apolexia said nostalgically, "I studied under him when I first came here actually..." "I couldn't ask for a kinder father, Lexi," Azi said with complete honesty. "I... never had... a place I could truly call home..." She looked around at Aziâ€™s little room, and Azi felt a pang. If Lexi agreed, the little townhouse would never be the same. She realized that this was a decision that the girl shouldnâ€™t take lightly. "Lexi." Azi said in a serious tone. "Yes..." "You must understand the importance of this..if you agree, you will always be my sister, and I yours." Aziâ€™s expression hardened slightly. "The name of Hammerfel is highly respected in Camelot, and with it comes great responsibility. It is not to be taken lightly, what I've offered to you." Lexi looked out the window at Judan once again. "He is a smith of Camelot... though I am not as honorable as he... I can try to live up to his name..." "Not just a smith,â€ Azi said solemnly, â€œbut once one of Albion's greatest paladins, honored by the King himself." Apolexia says, "I am not a paladin... nor could I ever... but I can promise to not act like the mercenaries of the land... and offer my services free of charge...â€ She gulped at the seriousness of it all. "I... can try... to not let you down... sister...You and...Father..." Her eyes never left Aziâ€™s father as she spoke. "Judan treated me like a daughter when I first came here, teaching me his ways...He is a good man... though even when he was ill, he was kind..." â€œIndeed,â€ Azi smiled to herself, recalling her fatherâ€™s unfailing kindness, â€œhe never raised a hand to me, even in his darkest moments and most frightful episodes." She turned to Lexi, resting a hand on the younger girlâ€™s shoulder. "Consider it, dear friend. If you agree, then forever we will be sisters, as if you had been born from my own mother's womb. "I ask you to think it over first...â€ Azi smiled, â€œI do not wish you to jump into anything over your excitement." Apolexia smiled, her tears those of joy now. "Thank you... I shall sleep on it... though I feel my mind is already made up.... to belong... something I always wanted..." "To belong, yes.â€ Azi said gravely. â€œBut to forsake your ties to your true family is a grave decision to make. I will be happy with whatever you decide.â€ "My true family is a demon possessed old man.â€ She sighed. "I never knew him though, nor shall I, I am Apolexia... I have a new life to live." "And much to consider." Azi said softly, stretching and moving again toward the bed. "Much to live for.." Lexi stayed near the window, gazing out for a moment in contemplation. "Indeed." Azi said thickly, through a yawn that Lexi echoed. The young mercenary crept to Aziâ€™s side and hugged her once more. "Thank you.... for everything..." she whispered. "Of course, dear friend." Azi smiled and sat down on her bed. Her head pounded, her entire body was sore. She ached to crawl into bed and drift to sleep. â€œThink it over, and I shall talk to you tomorrow.â€ She smiled as Lexi nodded with a huge grin. â€œI shall. It grows late. Goodnight, mâ€™friend.â€ She slipped out of the door. â€œGoodnight, Lexi,â€ Azi whispered. Before she heard Lexi's footsteps reach the bottom stair, Azi was soundly sleeping. -----signature-----
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Apolexia Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Apolexia slept uneasily that night... many thoughts raced through her mind. She wondered how long it could last? Her grandfather had disappeared from the land completly, much to her happiness... as much to her pain... Basaia never really looked much into her growing up. She was raised by the soldiers of Barfog, learned the trades of a smith and was able to live off of them. But when the truth came out, she couldn't run from it anymore. She always knew in her heart what kind of a man he was, never being there for her, she grew up an orphan, alone. And then soon afterwards Montoya gave her a place to call home. But her days of being around the people of Barfog and her own paranoia nature had ended that relationship. She remembered it all quite clearly... in Master Pelan's study when the guild Chancellor Shmindrik Lytherly had approached her. In a fit of rage she had almost killed him, slicing into his side with an adamantium sabre. And that was the last straw, Lexi was thrown out, once again lost, and alone. But for some reason she never could connect to those people there. Lexi remembered back some weeks ago when Azaeli had told her story at the forge of Camelot. Lexi was so impressed that she even stopped smithing to hear the tale. It was then the two bonded, though she knew not how or why. And when she had made the mistake with Valour and had no one to turn to, it was Azi she sought comfort from, and it was because of Azi she had joined the League. 'Yet how long could it last?' Lexi wondered to herself. Azi was offering her a chance to belong, a sister, a father... could she screw this up as she had with so many others in the past? Azi came to her mind... as well as her real father at Caer Ulfwych. 'But no...' she thought. 'He thinks I am dead, and I have no life there. I was never there for him, though I can be here for her...' thinking back to Azi. 'And Crispian... I had never knew of his struggles... and I had not been there for him but I can be now...' The night passed, Lexi spending her day at the forge as usual, then finding Azi later on. She would be forsaking her real name, but Apolexia was never her real name, and she knew Ulfwych wasn't either. Yet Apolexia was her name now, and she wished to try and discover a new future. Azi had come from Cornwall, finding Lezi sitting down next to her father listening him tell her of ways to repair maces without using planning tools. Azi blew a kiss to her father, then waved to Lexi. 'I would be... honored... to have you as my sister Azi... and Judan here as my father...' Lexi said to Azi hoping she would still go along with what Azi had said last night. Azi's face shone bright and she leaped forward hugging Lexi tightly. 'I am SO happy to hear you say that!' with tears of joy flowing down her cheek. Lexi wept one as well as the two embraced, Judan stepped over and hugged both the girls. Judan handed a paper to Azi and told her to hurry up and see the Lady Charlitte. Wasting little time, Azi excitedly grabbed Lexi by the arm as the two raced to the main part of the city. The two approached Lady Charlitte, curtseying politely to her. Handing over a writ of consent to adoption signed by Judan, Charlitte's eyebrows were raised, confused by what she read. 'As do I, I embrace Apolexia as my truest and dearest sister.' Azi quickly told Charlitte. Charlitte looked down at Lexi, and seeing the girl's eyes light up with happiness she said nothing more, and made the adoption final. The two in unison shouted sister together as they left the room, and in a long embrace cried for joy over one another's shoulder. Azi was more than pleased to quickly relay the news to the rest. 'Brothers and sisters of the League, may I have your attention for a very important announcement,' Azi quickly got everyone's attention as Lexi stood next to her, too overwhelmed to say anything. 'on this day, I am proud and utterly pleased to announce that I, with my father, have taken Apolexia to be my dear sister. The adoption has been made official, by Lady Charlitte herself!' The league hall was filled with cheers, some stuck by bewilderment as Crispian didn't even know what to say. Lexi nudged her new sister, and they quickly left the hall. Lexi wanted to tell her new father the news, that all was made official. Azi had a surprise waiting for Lexi when the two returned home. Upstairs there were now two beds that rested in Azi's room, and a place in a corner that she could hang up her stuff. The two embraced one another again, and Lexi had her own gift to give. 'I have something for you as well ... sister.' breaking a smile as she spoke that word. 'It was given to me... when I felt lost in the darkness... it gave me comfort, when I had nothing else to comfort me... given to me by a simple friar of the church... a simple... object... but has kept me safe through all my troubles. I now have others to seek comfort to... and I feel, I would want you to have it, for I no longer need it.' <smiling to Azi she hands over a simple doll> 'It might be blessed, I don't know, but I have felt blessed when I had it.' Azi looked at the simple doll. Simple, yet, it did have something to it. She looked to see whom it was made by, and she saw the name Friar. She smiled back at Lexi. 'I shall treasure it always, sister.' and the two embraced again. 'I vow to you, sister, that I will always be here for you, watching over you. You are my sister as I said last night, as much as if you had come from my own mother's womb.' Lexi hugged Azi again, as she said a similar vow. Leaning back against her new bed, her new home, her new sister, father, family... one word came to her mind as she slept. A word? No... a name... D'Vena. Though her new sister would not tell her much of this person, Lexi was determined to live up to her vow, to protect her sister at all costs. She had told her that she would try to change her ways, though never could be a paladin like her and father, at least she could try to live more honorably. And her first act of honor would be to try and protect Azi from this threat. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((taking place during the conversation between Azaeli and Apolexia)) Tobyas glimpsed him through the crowd as he walked. It was easy to miss Crispian generally in a crowd due to his height, but when he moved with a purpose, it was almost impossible to miss him. Either his expression or his bearing caused most to move out of his way as he approach. His great cloak, blazoned with the crest of the League, streamed behind him. The Tower was straight and bold against the white of his cloak. Tobyas tried to press through the throng of people moving about with their evening business. He was jostled and prodded as he went and several times had to use his elbows to his advantage to get people out of the way. East Arch Road ran south into the Plaza of Sunrise, which stood before the Defenderâ€™s guildhall. It was evident that Crispian was headed for that square. His bearing, manner, and stride were unchecked as he went. There was little horse traffic about, so he just had to deal with pedestrian traffic. The skills of using his shield in combat helped a bit to move people out of his path when needed, although without causing them the sort of harm he could. As he progressed toward it Toby drew closer and closer with his warning and caution. Jashen had been watching the East Gate since midafternoon and had seen Dâ€™Vena leave through it. Her appearance at first had startled him, for she had a gauntness to her look he had not expected. However, when he had gotten close to her, real alarm had set in. She smelled like the grave, with a sort of permeating stench of rot and a coldness about the air near her. It had seemed wise at that point not to press the pursuit, and he had found a spot to observe the gate but not bring attention to himself. Gaining the square, Crispian turned west toward Via Defensor, the Way of the Defenders. The road had born that name for years as it ran before the great complex of the Defenders of Albion. Tobyas followed, trying to cut a sharper angel toward the far arch so he could intercept Crispian. Jashen, from his post of observation, saw them both and discerned Tobyâ€™s intent. He chose to remain where he was. It seemed to stand to reason that Crispian would make for the League Hall, so Jashen would know where to find him. Several things happened next to push a fated meeting to a later time. A cart, laden with straw for the Royal Stables, had a horse balk over a dog. The horse reared, dislodging several of the bales and depositing them on the street. People scurried out of the way of the flailing horse, causing a great commotion of which Crispian was on the edge and Tobyas just out of the center. The surge of people moving away from the cart caused both of them to be pushed further west immediate, and so away from the city gate. It was at that moment that Dâ€™Vena, her retainers, and Mirth regained the City. Jashen saw them enter and moved toward them, again aided by the press of the crowd. He slid out a gauche crafted of steel by Crispian especially for Jashen. The blade was smeared a tarry black with a mild, but lethal over time, poison. He knew that he could not take Dâ€™Vena down with it, but one retainer would prove easier to deal with than two. Her group turned north, toward East Arch Road and Jashen shadowed them as they went. Had it not been for the commotion of the cart dumping the straw, a typically clear path of sight would have been opened from Crispian and Tobyas to the East Gate. They would have, in all likelihood, seen Dâ€™Vena enter. But the ruckus caused by the upset hay cart, and its ensuing reloading, prevented that from happening. The Seneschal of the League proceeded west along Via Defensor with Tobyas close behind. Jashen followed Dâ€™Vena north up East Arch Road. The desired meeting was so missed. As they came to the point where Portobello Road, an L shaped road that married the two great bizarre squares of Camelot, Jashen slipped to the smithing shop of Judan Hammerfel. He did not see the older smith there, which evoked an mild oath. Keeping his eye on the trio, he grabbed up a scrap of paper, busy with measure marks for a plate armor, and scrawled a note with a charred stick. â€œAzi, sheâ€™s here, Jashenâ€ was all it said. He set it under the great hammer that Judan used to pound out his metals and then broke to follow Dâ€™Vena again. He had to get close enough to wound one of her retainers. Trying to move through the crowd and be stealthy was a difficult task of which he lacked full mastery. Again, fate played a hand. Dâ€™Vena stopped. Fifteen feet in front of Jashen, she just stopped. Her eyes seemed drawn across the square as she stood semi-rigid, her two retainers looking about for signs of danger. What their mistress was looking at, they could only wonder. The main focus of their watch was the Royal guards scattered about. A small man, or a tall boy, in boiled leather armor was not the sort of threat they expected. Jashen moved closer, catching the occasional death stink. He moved closer, the hilt of his gauche getting sweaty in his palm. Closer, seeing the eyes of the retainer he would kill. He had never killed someone with poison before. As he passed on, slicing the back of the retainers had with his blade, he was not even sure he had succeeded. According to the man who had sold him the poison, it would kill. Jashen did not feel inclined to wait and watch. He was right next to man one instant, pressing his blade across the bare fleshed back of his hand, and the next he was gone. A shadowy shape moved away from the trio. The pounding of his heart was loud, so loud they had to hear it, he was sure. Jashen gained the corner, turning westward on the last leg of Portobello Road and then ducking into the busy wood yard of Brach Leof. He pressed his back against the wall and panted for his breath. The Almighty grant it, the foe would be one man weaker to stand against them by the morning. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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{old}Alyzabeth Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((you all STILL haven't gotten rid of D'vena?? SHEESH!!)) -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((well, all my allies done ran off to other servers! Grin)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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{old}Alyzabeth Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<coughs and blushes> well. well.. you know.. she was never supposed to be so dark and insiduous.. she was just a nasty avalonian with an attitude and hunger for power.. I don't even know what you did to her, poor thing. Oh, if it makes anything funny, the name Moryan was once a char I had on a MUD, she was the 'queen' very good, sweet ruler.. but her full name was Moryan D'vena <cackles> -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((She might survive this, D'Vena I mean. See what happens when you go off and I have to make it all up on my own? (grin) Miss ya Mory!)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The door sqeaked open, and Judan looked in on his two daughters, who had been sitting on the bed chatting about little things of no particular import. He smiled at them, and instantly Azi knew something was afoot. It was a stiff smile, though anyone else wouldn't have noticed. "Lexi!" he bellowed with a grin, throwing Azi a nervous glance. "I've just discovered something very interesting! Come to the forge and I'll show you." Lexi's face brightened with excitement, and Judan stood sideways in the door, allowing Lexi to pass and make her way downstairs. "What is it, Pappa?" Azi asked with a low voice after her sister had gone. Her armor glinted as she came to her father's side. Judan's face paled, he handed Azi a yellowed scrap of parchment and kissed her on the forehead. "Be careful, angel," he said softly, knowing full well the meaning of the note, for Azi had finally spilled her heart of the entire story to her Pappa. If it came to a bad end, she had wanted him to know the full story. Judan sighed and looked down the stairs, then made his way down to meet Lexi. With shaking fingers, Azi looked at the hastily scrawled note. Suddenly all of the elation of the past day left her. Jashen. He knew, too. Azi clenched the paper in her hand and threw on her cloak, snatching up her helm and sword. Enough of this delay. Quietly, she slipped past her father's shop, hearing Lexi gasp with amazement at whatever Judan was showing her. She turned toward the League hall with purpose. She'd look for any of them, Tobyas, Jashen, even Crispian who she'd been angry with. It was time to move, she swore she'd see D'vena's end before long. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Martial Square, so called because of the weapons merchants who crowded it with stalls, was a bit busier than normal as she turned into it. All the recent battles against Midgard and Hibernia, and the success of them, had renewed the fervor with which Albion opposed them. Many more people, a notable number of them paladins of the church, were about buying weapons or considering it. She gazed about the square. The purity of some was disturbing, and baseness of others a warm welcome. Dâ€™Vena looked around. She felt very little, all things were only coming through the gauze of Mirth in her mind. She giggled when Mirth wished it, and felt less and less control over her own self. But, at moments like this when Mirth was pondering something else, she had her moment of control or at least some freedom. She let her attention go, considering those she had brushed. The little girl was happy about something. The man-boy was deep in thought. Oh, he should know better than that. She had taken great pains in the past weeks to ease him deeper into misery and depression. Yet now he felt as if she were no longer with him. She sent a flick of thought in his direction, intent on changing that certainty. The grim chuckle that came after was her own. He had almost been home, back among his mewling friends, full of praise and their own goodness. Those were now the hardest times to get at him, and she had tried. But she had her little reward. Just before Mirth reacted to the slumping form of her retainer, she saw him raise a tankard in a shaking hand. Dâ€™Vena laughed her own laugh at that. So much for him as a threat. As Mirth turned Its attention to the retainer, they both knew what was wrong. He was looking at a nice, even slice across the tendons on the back of his hand. Through her dual senses, she watched him, as did Mirth. â€œYou will die soon,â€ Mirth said dryly in that odd shifting voice. Dâ€™Vena could not even bring herself to feel anything as they turned and left the square. Both men followed, one shaken and the other trembling, waiting for what would cause his demise. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Apolexia Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Lexi looked onto Judan, the two had already bonded through the ways of a smith. Yet... Judan looked distracted as he talked. Lexi could not tell what it was, then out of the glimpse of her eye she caught Azi in her armor run off down the street. She gasped in amazement as Judan put together a shield using only half the parts she had been using. Yet, something was amiss, though she couldn't leave her new father without reason. Thinking of a quick way out she then had an idea. 'Father, I just remembered I have someone I need to help at the forge. You know how it is... but I'll be back soon!' She reached up and kissed Judan on the cheek and before he knew what she was doing, she trailed after Azi. She noticed that she had not been wearing her chain armor, but her smithing robe. But Azi was making great haste, and realizing that she at least had her twin daggers tried to keep up, yet tried to stay back far enough that Azi would not notice... -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump cuz its not allowed on page 3. -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arcalan stood back and admired her new trophey. An ornate banner decorated one wall of her chamber in the League Hall, bearing a slightly faded design that had not been seen in Albion for many many years. Her Master would like it, she knew. Sappy hammered in the final nail to hang it properly while Arcalan busied herself tidying away some things. It was night now and Crispian was blethering away down stairs about his tragic life. She'd heard QUITE enough of that to last her a liftetime, and didn't have the energy to fake sympathy. She would need to prepare to work her magic properly. The force she held was very powerful, and quite probably dangerous to manipulate. So far she'd done little more than stir it's sleeping essence, and that was quite enough to awe her. She slipped over to her bed and took off her garments, folding them carefully and draping them over a chair nearby. Chill night air came through a small window above and washed over her lithe body. She undid the braids in her hair and let the blond locks cascade down her back. Sappy placed one heavy hand against the door, ensuring nothing short of a bettering ram would disturb her privacy. The Golem was a natural extention of her body, her control over it had grown ever finer as she progressed in her arts. Now at meals she could allow her companion to cut and feed her meats, lift the wine to her lips, all as simply as using her own hands. She shivered slightly in the air, but carefully discarded all the dewomer laiden clothing and items she used in daily battle. Her jewlery was placed carefully in a beautifully crafted little box she had found when seeking the help of Durgen.. at least she thought that was his name. Some foolish crafter at Caer Witrin who had it stolen from him by a wretched goblin. When she laid eyes on the gem-encrusted box she instantly emptied the worthless tools from it and forgot all about the totem he promised tocarve her. Who needed his magic? Her staff was laid aside, but close enough she could grasp it if things took a turn for the worst. She mentally prepared herself, and adopted a cross legged position on her bed, breathing carefully and slowly as she had been taught. She relaxed and let herself delve deep into her inner spirit. Unlike most people, Cabalists regularly touched their own spirits in order to work their craft. Unlike most Cabalists Arcalan discovered there was something else there, nestling at the depths of her own soul. She had felt this presence ever since she could remeber, and knew it was something special.. she was marked for a great destiny surely. She found the glowing pool of light that ebbed and flowed in gentle rhythms at the bottom of her own spirit. Like molten gold, or liquid fire, it shone and rippled with a lazy motion, and she knew instinctively it was in a deep slumber. Her mind dipped a mental toe into the lake and immeadiately a result was felt. Pure golden energy flooded up like amber mercury, enveloping her, bathing her.. drowing her. She struggled to break free as a torrent of the stuff engulfed her body, she fought to pull up feeling panic at the incredible surge of power. Breathing hard she forced herself free of the energy and tried to force it out.. out towards the place where her Master resided in his long exile from the mortal realm. She felt reality bend before this shining force, felt the astral plane tremble.. what WAS this? Her Master's prison was breached, his soul reached out to her and caught her like a butterfly, carefully in one hand. The waves of Golden light subsided, but as they did she saw in her Master's face a look of terror.. did even he know the depths of this thing? Nothing had ever caused him fear... Soon she was a vessel for his mind, and he poured his vast learning into her. He rifled through her mind and soul like a student flipping through a tome at the Academy. Instantly he knew all she could tell him of the past few days, and he engraved a spell upon her mind as though jotting down a note on parchment. All the time she basked in his affection... he was pleased with her, and would grant her great power when his reign came.. he lightly ruffled her soul with a caress. The ecstacy of it filled her with a joy she clung to and savoured. He had considered all things, wise beyond measure as he was, and all was well. And she knew.. he DID like the banner. It reminded him of a time when he trod the earth, and the world was a bauble he could almost hold in his hand. All this she knew in between seconds, the bond was so deep. He set her gently back upon he bed, alone in her own body once more, and retreated into his dwelling place. Her body trembled with cold and exhaustion, but she had learnt much. The Master had tasted the rage and hate of both Crispian and Jashen, when they fought with her so bitterly. All her prodding had made them bear the depths of their psyche to her. Now she held in her mind the spell, a key to unlock what she wanted, when Jashen stabbed deep into the soul of his twin. The pain would be amazing, their defences would melt away and Arcalan could implant the seed that would ensure her future success. Only Azi remained an obstacle.. but the plan had much further left to go before she'd need to be taken care of. The night brushed against her body in her solitude. The candle had guttered out, and Sappy still stood motionless blocking the door. She was covered in goosepimples, and the hair on the back of her neck was on end. She threw on a robe, and climbed under the sheets of her bed. The effort had taken all she could muster, but tommorow would be difficult too. She'd have to convince them that she was firmly in the grasp of D'Vena... She yawned. Her mind began to trip over itself, the hall and that man she'd meant to follow home from market... Jashen when he took off his armor and she could see the scars and the muscle of his torso.. that wretched Apolexia jabbering at her.. the sunset in barfog... the darkness of a deep sleep engulfed her. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian arrived at the League Hall in due order, and Tobyas was close at hand. He saw that Arcalan was there, and ducked around the back to enter and head upstairs. He did not want a confrontation with the cabalist at the moment with so many other things on his mind. The hall was a bit vacant for the time of day, and for that Crispian was grateful. He wanted a few moments to gather his thoughts and then he would seek Azi out again and try to make things right with her, to explain how he had acted and why. But he had to be sure that he could convince her first. Suddenly, he felt the oppressive touch of Dâ€™Vena, as he had not for some days now. He did not feel her as Azi did, but he knew what it was as it hit him. All the doubts welled up in him. Why was the hall vacant? Where were some of the familiar names and faces? Darnyk? Kromly? Galold? Daeya? Aellona? Bruin? Asotrem? They were gone because of him, of course! The League would fall, and be forgotten. The effort to stave off the growing feeling of vertigo was too much. He quavered, almost shaking. His eyes screwed shut in pain as he put out a hand to steady himself. No, the League was strong! The League was doing well! But there were those that had left, he could not deny. Such was the way of her twisting. She rarely employed the outright lie when she could warp the truth to her purpose. Arcalan watched from her seat and guessed at what must be happening. She stood, her own steps faltering. â€œLord Crispian!â€ she cried out as she lurched into the chamber. â€œShe is...you must not let...Stop her...before its too late,â€ she gasped out, her face contorting into a countenance of sheer agony, and she fell to the ground. Crispian shuttered off his own misery to cross to her. â€œSomeone get a healer!â€ he snapped, kneeling at her side. He checked for her heart beat and found it strong. She had already shown one fainting spell just a day or two before. This could just be another, but she had seemed to be talking about Dâ€™Vena. She must somehow be connected, or influenced by her. Crispian did not want to think that about any in the League, yet here was a type of proof for at least suspicion. â€œHave her taken to her room, and find Tobyas or Rhizzia,â€ he said to Ardy, turning toward the barrel-keg that stood to one corner. With a shaking hand, he drew a full tankard and sat wearily. Only in his mid-twenties, and such a malaise over him. He lifted the tankard and drew off a healthy drink in two long swallows. A good ale, he noted mentally. He would have to commend Phalos on procuring it. The pressure let up on him and he sighed audibly. How long until she did it again? Or tried to at least. If only he could figure out an attack plan, then he could strike. He closed his eyes in thought. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	He pushed the tankard away and turned to survey the hall. It seemed so empty, so barren. The objective truth was that over twenty members of the League were present. Subjectively, Crispian just noticed those who were missing. He mounted the stairs and went up to his room with a weary tread. His armor felt heavy on his shoulders and even his great cloak seemed a burden. The latch to the door gave to his hand and he stepped into the semi-darkness of the room. â€œCrispian?â€ called a soft voice. He knew it instantly, even before the lantern light revealed Tobyâ€™s face. â€œIâ€™ve been waiting. I would have talked to you downstairs but I didnâ€™t feel like putting up with Arcalan,â€ he continued with a wry grin. â€œWe need to do something about her.â€ Although Tobyas had not said it, Crispian knew the her he referred to was not Arcalan. No one was as concerned with the cabalist as they were with Dâ€™Vena. She was the pressing matter, the target of opportunity. â€œI know, Toby,â€ he said wearily as he sat on his cot. Normally, Tannir would be here to help with his armor, but he allowed Tobyas to stand in his stead, helping to unfastened the thick leather straps that held the armor in place. â€œIt just doesnâ€™t seem like we can beat her.â€ Toby hurled a greave across the room. It clattered against the wall and thudded to the floor. â€œDamn it, Crispian!â€ he said, standing before him. â€œYou sound like a recruit on a relic raid, you know that? It is almost like you WANT this to continue, or at least youâ€™ve learned to be helpless before it. How dare you!â€ The genuine anger in his eyes startled Crispian greatly. â€œWhat if I had thought like that? Do you know where I would be now?â€ He held the wounded look of Crispian with iron resolve. â€œI would be a whore in a shadow quarter brothel, thatâ€™s where.â€ He sank to his knees, taking Crispianâ€™s hands in his own. He could feel the burn scars of the forge, small and round from where embers and sparks had landed and burned through his leather smithing gloves. He could also feel the scars from battles, the thin hard lines of scar tissue. â€œBut Iâ€™m not. You gave my opportunity to leave, and I took it. You have friends who want to aid, who will risk all,â€ his fingers caressed the soft palm of Crispianâ€™s hand, tips touching the callus ridges, â€œeven their life, their love of you,â€ his voice broke, â€œto set you free, to end this.â€ Tears gleamed unspilt in his eyes. He had said one thing he had not intended to. â€œI love you, Crispian, but you have to take action to end this. Or youâ€™ll be lost to me because of her, and that I canâ€™t bear. It would be too much for me.â€ Crispian was stunned. In truth, he was not sure if his feelings for Toby, as intense as he admitted they were, were solely the product of this curse or not. He couldnâ€™t divorce the two any longer. â€œToby, Toby,â€ he said, grasping the clericâ€™s hands, â€œI donâ€™t know if she can be beater.â€ His voice was weak with strain, with the helplessness he felt. â€œAnd you wonâ€™t, Crispian,â€ Toby said as he let tears fall, â€œif you donâ€™t oppose her. I can lose you through ending the curse, Cris. But not through this.â€ The sheer agony on Tobyâ€™s face was plain to see. He had not felt this much pain when his father died. His heart was rent in twain with how he wished it could be, but there was only one choice with which he could live. As Crispianâ€™s own tears started to come, a corner of the room shifted in the light of the lantern. Jashen, feeling very abashed to have overheard this, was suddenly standing there. â€œHeâ€™s right, brother,â€ he said quietly as he crossed the room accompanied by the whisper of leather boots. â€œShe must die, even as her retainer is.â€ It was the first time the two had been together since their very public falling out in the hall. â€œJashen!â€ Crispian yelped and stood quickly, disentangling his hands from Tobyâ€™s. A flush of embarrassment spread over his face. Jashen shook his head. â€œI know about you two, Cris, and I donâ€™t care. No one does, it seems, but you, and maybe Arcalan.â€ He leaned against the battered desk where much League business was done. â€œWhat we all care about is ending this madness with that woman. I took my first blow at it today. One of her retainers should be dead by now.â€ His voice carried the quiet gravity of fact. â€œDead?â€ they both asked together. Tobyas had risen gracefully from his squatted position and now stood, and Crispian gaped at his brother from his seat on the cot. â€œAye, dead.â€ Jashenâ€™s face was a mask of blankness. â€œI poisoned him down in Martial Square earlier with a gauche. The poison is lethal.â€ He swallowed, then passed his hand over his face, then massaged at his neck with it. â€œIâ€™ve never poisoned someone before. But itâ€™s done.â€ â€œMy God, Jashen,â€ Crispian whispered. HE had made that gauche, he knew. He made almost all of Jashenâ€™s weapons. It was the only way he felt sure of the tools his brother used. But poison? â€œWhat, Cris? Itâ€™s what an assassin uses, and that is what Iâ€™ve become, to aid you,â€ he added. Maybe if enough was said to show Crispian how many were with him he would realize that Dâ€™Vena was at least worth a shot. â€œAnd I donâ€™t mind, honestly. Thereâ€™s a,â€ he paused for the right word, â€œthrill to it. And someday, it will be a Troll or a Lurikeen I fell with it.â€ â€œJashen, poison is...â€ Crispian could not press on with how he felt. â€œNo different than your magical sword, Cris,â€ Jashen stated rather plainly. This could derail the topic at hand he knew, and when a knock came at the door, he was grateful. Being closer, he crossed to open it before either of the other two could. In the light of a hallway lantern, resplendent in her armor, was Azi. Clad head to toe in heavy plate, a great sword on her back, she looked a formidable foe. But her expression made her seem even more so. â€œGood, Crispian, youâ€™re here,â€ she said to Jashen and pressed into the room, immediately feeling a bit embarrassed when she saw Crispian sitting on the cot. By the Almighty, she REALLY could not tell them apart, no matter how often they pointed out the differences. â€œMilord,â€ she said with a formal bow as she stood in the room. Crispian rose and bowed to her, as he did to all women of the League, or the Realm. â€œAzi,â€ he breathed quietly. â€œMilord, I apologize for my anger earlier,â€ she said levelly. This was not a meek apology, but was one none the less. â€œI was angered by your tone. When are you going to do something about her?â€ Her blue eyes pierced into Crispian like a Celtic spear. Here she was, one he knew had suffered from curse and control, madness and usurpation, hurling the gauntlet of action down to him as his brother and his lover both had. â€œSoon,â€ he said with an air of defeat, â€œsoon. But her magic is great, and she is powerful, more powerful than I am, or we are.â€ He included all of them in his statement, for he knew he would not go alone into this confrontation. Tobyas face filled with an ephinany moment. â€œI know one who would oppose her magic, Cris! Ah, Milord,â€ he caught himself, smiling shyly at Azi. â€œHe is here in the city, her teacher. He hates what she has become. I can enlist his aid.â€ Crispian closed his eyes. Another soul to be recruited for his fight. Another person whom he would disappoint in the end, leave dead or worse in the face of the foe. â€œAlright, talk to him. See if he will meet us in say two hours, at your church.â€ He had done it; he had set a time and a place. Lord Almighty, he thought, it was easier to call up forces to Castle Sauvage for an assault on Odinâ€™s Gate! â€œAnd weâ€™ll be ready for her, as ready as we can be.â€ The door to the chamber opened without knock or preamble and Apolexia stepped through. She had tried to stay in the hall and wait, but it was too much for her. She hated not knowing what was about, after so many years of being deceived and misled about what was really going on. â€œWhatever youâ€™re planning, I am part of it,â€ she said, closing the door and leaning against it. â€œNo.â€ Crispianâ€™s voice left no room for debate or consideration. He would not risk Lexi in this, not with what he knew of her life, which he was certain was not all that had gone on in it. â€œYou will not, Lexi.â€ Apolexia straightened herself up and met Crispianâ€™s stern gaze. There was steely resolve in her own, and her expression was as hard as a netherium blade she had forged herself. â€œWhere me sister goes, I go!â€ she declared. Crispian chuckled suddenly and shook his head. â€œBetween the four of you, I doubt even Dâ€™Vena would stand a chance. I yield! God protect from the likes of you in the future!â€ he declared with an impish grin. They just might pull this off. They just might. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi sighed at her sister as she entered. Just last night Lexi had asked her about D'vena, and Azi made her swear she wouldn't ask anyone about her again, until Azi was able to explain it all herself. And Lexi swore, but now here she was, standing boldly in front of Crispian, swearing to stand by Azi. It was strange, Azi had always been a loyal and steadfast friend, and save her father and Ascot, she had never really felt that loyalty from any other. She almost scolded Lexi for following her, almost told her to go back to Pappa, but her sister's eyes flashed with excitement and determination as Crispian agreed to let her stay. Azi reminded herself of the trials that Lexi had already faced, and decided it was best to let it go. She smiled at Crispian as he spoke, then drew her sword and kissed the hilt. She held it before her, point to the floor, and dropped to one knee. Her voice rang clear and steady in the little room. "May the Almighty give us all of the strength we shall need. May He guide each of us, our blades and our hearts," she looked at each of them solemly. With a gesture of blessing over Crispian, Tobyas, Jashen, her own sister, she continued, "and grant us a swift victory over D'vena, and all who come to her aid." She looked pointedly at Crispian. "So." Her lips curved in a sly grin, "Are we going to do this now, or aren't we?" Edit: (/e beats down the typo monster) -----signature-----
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Apolexia Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	"'A witch'"... that was all Azi told her about D'Vena. Asking for more she got a cold stare, and Azi made her swear that she'd ask no more of her. She had kept that promise, she did not ask of her, she did not need to. When she said the name in front of Azi the other night she froze in fear. The look in her eyes told Lexi all she needed to know about D'Vena... the look in her eyes were almost the same look that Lexi had when the whispered name Basaia came to her ears. But her nightmare was gone and her sister's was not. Lexi looked about the room, seeing her sister clad in plate and her in her smithing robe... she felt out of place, but she did not care. She was here, with her sister, and she would protect her sister. -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((OOC Bump, could this really be getting to the end!? And only 15 pages long.. just a quick tale was it Crisp? )) -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	(grins at Toorc) This is the reader's digest version! -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian looked over their faces, serious and grave. Not one of them had as many seasons as he in their profession. Azi had been close as a wizard, but was still such a young paladin. Apolexia, almost unrivaled as a smith in the Realm, was very much untried as a mercenary. Jashen, having walked away from his mercenary career, was now a neophyte infiltrator. And Tobyas, earnest cleric who would not be able to call him back to life if there was need. â€œYes, friends, we do it tonight. We should meet again in two hours time, at the Church. There are some tasks to do and take care of first, though.â€ He quickly laid out what he wanted each to do, moving from person to person with trusting eyes meeting his. Each accept their commands and charges with ease. They were all now galvanized that there would be some action, some assault on this dread woman. They dispersed through the back entrance to the hall, letting no one know that they were leaving. Azi went directly about her task, while Apolexia sought out the public forge, which was never banked. Under her robe, she had secreted Crispianâ€™s personal sword. A new edge of it he wanted. Lexi was nervous that he had entrusted her with this task. Jashen and Tobyas headed toward the church, but then split company. Toby was about convincing Nekolia to aid their cause, and Jashen was to observe Dâ€™Venaâ€™s lair and then meet them at the church. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Apolexia Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Lexi sat at the forge, sharpening Crispian's blade. She was happy Crispian asked her to do this, for now if Azi saw her working the forge she would have an excuse why. Only two hours... not enough time to travel to Benowyc, a place she needed to be at for her craft. Normally she would've left, but she would not leave her sister to face such a threat alone. She had gone along and trained the day before, so she knew how to handle her daggers at least moderatly well... almost cutting off a finger when she fought her first enemy, a pagan druid known as a filidh. She sat down and began to work on the helms she had acquired, waiting for time to pass... -----signature-----
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CarringtonSony Posts: 5,819 Registered: Apr 5, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 5,583 User ID: 665,238	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	You won't get a bump from me Pontiff! <stops and goes silent, realizing what he's done, then disappears into ths shadows> -----signature----- Mali principii malus finus. Don't open it.
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Heimlock Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi considered the task before her. It would not be easy to obtain what Crispian asked for. Only the church would have a reliquary of the specifications he asked for, and candles with green, blue, yellow, and red glass would not be easy to come by so late in the day. Holy water and wax candles were easy enough. She pondered the others as she moved through the sleepy streets of Camelot. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Tobyas Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tobyas again mounted the steps to the small chamber were Nekolia lived. The old man had offered aid once before, but how would he feel about being asked for assistance? He only hoped he could convince the old man. He knocked on the door and waited patiently for the answer. He was nervous, he had to admit. â€œCome, boy,â€ the voice called from within. It was uncanny how this man seemed to know what senses could not reveal. With some trepidation, Tobyas turned the handle and entered. â€œI had a feeling you would come back to me,â€ the old man said in that thin and reedy voice as milk-filmed eyes met Tobyasâ€™s gaze. â€œYou are about destroying her, arenâ€™t you?â€ Tobyas nodded. â€œAye, we are,â€ he said quietly. There was something unsettling about this man, the way he guessed or knew things before Toby could speak of them. â€œShe has hurt some of us badly, and the only way to end it is to kill her.â€ He did not feel very clerical speaking of killing someone like this, but they knew it was what needed to happen. Nekolia sighed, a rattled sort of sound. â€œShe was once my greatest pupil, with so much promise.â€ His gaze wandered to a shelf of bound tomes. â€œShe would train with the Academy teachers and I would tutor her for refinement of her skill. She had such a wonderful touch, so light and guiding. Not at all like what it has become.â€ A single tear rolled down his pale cheek. He raised a spotted and veined hand to wipe it away. â€œYou seek my aid.â€ It was a statement, and Tobyas knew he need not answer. â€œYes, we do,â€ he said, just the same. He felt badly for this old man, a one-time teacher now reduced to a prison-like solitude and his own memories. â€œIf you are able, we would ask it.â€ Nekolia let his blind gaze pass over the room. His silence stretched on. â€œYou shall have it, young man.â€ He rose and groped for a worn staff. â€œI would ask, though, that you help me change into my proper robe.â€ He tapped his way to a chest and lifted the lid. Inside, under a plainish cloak, were the magnificent robes of a Master Sorcerer. Not the thread bare, stained robe he wore now. Without any pretense to modesty, the old man undid the ties of his robe and let if fall into a pool of fabric at his feet. He stepped out of it and waited. Tobyas, feeling incredibly self-conscious, lifted the robe from the chest and rolled it up so that he could slip it over Nekoliaâ€™s head. It fell in a perfect draping over his body. He no longer seemed frail or old. The power of a master in his art radiated from him. After fastening the other pieces of the cloth body armor in place, Tobyas led Nekolia from the room. The old man pulled the door shut and turned a key in the lock. He held the key out toward Toby. â€œTake this, and give it to the next to take my post, when he does. I shall not return here again.â€ He spoke so calmly, so plainly resolved to the fact that this battle would kill him. Toby was shaken, but did as the old man bid him. He slid the key into his coin purse. â€œHow will I know your successor?â€ he asked as they made their way out of the building. â€œYou know him already,â€ Nekolia said as he put his hand on Tobyasâ€™ shoulder and followed him. The puzzlement settled on Toby at whom the old man meant. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen stood in the shadows of the building across the street and watched the lights from inside Dâ€™Venaâ€™s taken rooms. He noticed when one her retainers brought the body down and placed it in the alleyway. One down, he thought. Only two to go. His thoughts were grim, otherwise. He pondered what the outcome of the night might be. With a seriousness not usual to him, he even considered that they may all die. Yet, he knew that even in death Crispian would be done with the curse, and Dâ€™Vena could not reach beyond the grave. He hoped it would not come to that, for any of them. However, his resolve was steely. If the Dark Angel came for him, Blessed Uriel, he would go to that nether shore. He also prayed that such a trip would be called on for none of them. His mind turned to Azi. In the days since the Abbey, he had thought of her often, and finally was at peace with his part in her life. A friend, perhaps a dear friend, but for her, no one rivaled Ascot. He had seen that in the League hall the day Ascot had joined. Her joy had been solely for Ascot as she looked on him with shining eyes and proud smile. He grinned wistfully. Well, if Crispian could fall in love again, so could Jashen, right? He thought. He adjusted his cloak and slid further back into the shadows. Still over an hour before he met them at the church. The rain started and streaked the little light that there was, but he was still sure he could notice any move Dâ€™Vena might make should she sense that death was coming for her. -- Crispian ghosted across the Defenderâ€™s courtyard on silent feet. He was clad only in a white mantle, head bare as were feet. He had no acoutrements on him at all, save a silver holy symbol and Asylynâ€™s Sphere. The Chapel of St. Michael stood against the back wall of the Defendersâ€™ Compound. The friars prayed there daily, but at this time of night it would be empty. He came to it as he had come to the day Oakleif made him a knight, in the simple garb of a pentitent. Entering the silent chapel, lit only a few votive candles, he walked up the aisle. The smell of sandlewood oil filled the still air, mingling with a hint of incense. He came before the altar and slowly sank to his knees, then down onto his chest, arms wide in a sacrificial pose. He poured his heart into prayer, offering all he was to the Almighty, to that Divine Presence he believed guided the universe in its course, and held the souls of all within its grasp. With a great opening of himself, he emptied his heart of all, asking only peace and fortitude for what had to be done. At last, he wept, for all that might not be, and for all that had been eschewed by the Curse, by his role in the Collapse of the Whitethorne, and in the destruction of she who had been Dâ€™Vena. The only remorse he felt when he raised himself up to leave was that Dâ€™Vena had once been a child of the Divine, before life took her elsewhere. He mourned that it was his role to either slay her, or drive her finally from the Light of the Almighty. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	"Strange requests, Sister Azaeli," Sister Elaydith's whisper echoed through the vast upper hall of the Church. Azi frowned slightly. She had hoped to be able to obtain the things that Crispian had asked for without calling much attention to herself or having to answer too many questions. Sister Elaydith owed her nothing, Azi knew, quite the contrary in fact. It was she who had provided Azi and her father with food and care and comfort in Lisabella's place. She had cared for them as wife and mother in Pappa's darkest and most maddened hours. "I assure you, Sister, I would not ask such of the church if it was not of dire importance." Azi tried desperately to keep her voice even, though inside she was more nervous than she had ever been. Colored glass was one thing to request, but the reliquary meeting Crispian's specifications... Azi knew she had no right to ask to be entrusted to care for such an item. And could she promise no harm would come to it? She had no idea what Crispian was planning. Sister Elaydith looked at Azi for quite some time, thoughts flashing behind her deep brown eyes. Finally, she tucked her hands inside her robes and lowered her head solemnly, then turned to lead Azi into the inner confines of the church. Just a half hour later, after a solemn meeting and sworn oath, Azi stepped out into the street. The scabbard at her back that usually so carefully held her mother's sword was painfully empty. In its stead, nestled in her arms as tenderly as a newborn babe, she carried the pack of requested items. She did not allow herself to be pleased. The weight of this responsibility along with what was to come was almost overwhelming as she made her way to meet with the others. -----signature-----
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Apolexia Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Bah! SLACKER! /not just a bump... wanted to let crispian know =p -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Arcalan came to in the League Hall, with impeccable timing. She knew Phalos was near at hand, sensing his presence and that of Nalewin in the chamber. She struggled to sit up, in her feignd weakness. "Phalos! take your oppertunity" She cried out in a mewling voice "Slay me while D'Vena's control is lax lest she gain hold on me again!" Her eyes brimmed with tears, her heart and soul bare before him, her conerfeit flawless. Phalos spun round and Nalewin started to her feet. "Arcalan?" he asked of her. Arcalan gasped. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped againt the pillow, certain that little turn would buy her all the credit she needed. Should Phalos actually tryand slay her she'd have to boil his brains for him, but she knew there was little chance there. She listened intently to the conversation around her, twitching to show an unquiet repose. Now she awaited Crispian's next move. Would he drag her into the confrontation? Or would Jashen execute his plan to distract the witch? Time would reveal all. -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Ceowyr could be seen, haggered, emerging from the Crypt where he had spent three nights researching and distributing forgotten and ancient materials to the strange little men who had been arriving near the church, unobserved by others. At last he had liberated the Book of Shades from the Forbidden Library and returned it to the Inconnu. The Academy had, in their hubris, thought Necromancy was wiped out.. but it's lure would tempt the fate of men for aeons to come. Now Lord Arawn, god of the dead, owed his Master a favour, and all the time the eyes of others had been on the showy antics of his accomplice Arcalan. The plan was well under way. Now he thought as he fingered his Holy Symbol, to rest a little. It had been taxing work. As he made his way home, blessing people in the streets, he thought of Tobyas. That preacher would have to be his own pet project he'd decided. If Tobyas were given enough rope he'd surely hang himself.. a sweet revenge on Mother Chruch and Crispian alike. Another day perhaps, but in the early light of the morn the seeds of destruction were planted. They'd have burned Ceowyr as a heretic had they known his ideas about the universe, but now they'd burn the pure of heart, and the corruption of his soul would be plain for all to see. He'd better leave it a day and then check on Arcalan. She'd have much to tell him he was sure, and the Master would be well pleased with them both. Once this D'Vena woman was safely in the earth the next part of their plot could continue... He trudged wearily up to the League Hall, shivering slightly in the morning air and bustled by the crowds that began to ooze into the streets of Camelot. -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump ((Long weekend, sorry for the pause all. Working on concluding this here little story.)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Apolexia Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<reads the bump and sighs, then goes back to planning how much more chaos she can cause in the league> -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	---Cris, I hope you're enjoying my creative writing energy, it seems to have left me to persue other interests..hopefully Price is one of them.. --- Meantime.. /bump <glares at her sis> What was that you're doing? /end hijack -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	They were all assembled at last in the small church. Tobyas and Nekolia had arrived slightly before Azi and Lexi and Jashen had been last of all. Crispian entered in his full armor, gleaming with cleanliness. He was resolved to what had to be done this night. â€œGreetings and welcome to you all. I thank you now for the work that will come of this eve.â€ He looked at each of his friends, and Nekolia, one time teacher of she whom he had to face. â€œI would ask for some time now in prayer before we go forth to meet her.â€ Tobyas new this was his cue and he stood, smoothing his vestments over his chain armor. He bowed his head and opened the small prayer book he held. As his hand raised in blessing over them all, he intoned solemn words. â€œLord Almighty, who did cause the world to come into being in Goodness and Love, We implore you this night to see us trough our battle. May we triumph over the foe and lay her low, as she has gone foul of Your Love and seeks only that which is evil is your sight.â€ His hand moved in blessing over them all. He had never had to bless others for such a grave task. His hand shook slightly. â€œMy intention is to assault her on many fronts at once,â€ Crispian explained as he laid out the items they had. His sword had a fine new edge on it, thanks to Lexi. Tobyas had shriven him earlier, a very tense confession. Jashen knew the details of his will, and Azi was a pillar as always. Lexi he knew was there for Azi more than him, but would not turn her aid down. â€œNekolia,â€ he bowed to the older man, â€œif you can hit her with mind spells, we can then rush her. Tobyas, you need to place the candles and ward her quickly. I feel strongly from all that has been said that she has some unworldly aid.â€ The tales of cold and stench fit with possession by the demonic, and Crispian hoped to be able to counter any aid with warding and blessings. â€œAzi, I will ask you and Lexi to strike at her. That will keep her attention as well. First, get rid of that retainer.â€ He looked to Jashen, who nodded. â€œHer other one is dead already, so that leaves her just the one.â€ He looked at each one, holding their gazes. He felt no tension, no nervousness. He was born to command, he knew. At barely 24, he was a seasoned leader, though he sought that not in the least. â€œOnce we are in, there will be no coming out without the final victory being decided. If, however, it looks like I will be defeated, I want you to get out.â€ He looked them all over again, knowing that not one of them would obey that command. â€œWell, letâ€™s prepare to leave.â€ It was then that he noticed Aziâ€™s scabbard, empty on her back. He looked to the reliquary, sitting shining on the sideboard. Tobyas was readying a leather satchel for it even now, padding it with linen wadding. â€œAzi, your sword!â€ She offered him a weak smile, her face paling. â€œThe sister at the church wanted some assurance that the bones of St. Thomas, and their housing would return. Crispian, please donâ€™t be upset,â€ she nearly pleaded. â€œIt was the only solution I could think of as she asked me.â€ Crispian thought of the platinum in their coffers, of the great treasures the League had stored up against future needs. However, he could not help but smile at Azi, his love for her showing plainly. â€œWell, we will be delayed a few moments then.â€ He pulled Jashen aside and soon his brother departed quietly. â€œI have something in my vault that I think will be an adequate substitute. At least, I hope it will.â€ The silence dragged on, as each was alone then with their thoughts. Crispian adjusted his cloak and the broad white leather belt of his knighthood as he waited. Azi and Lexi withdrew together to one side of the room, assuring each other that all would be well in the end. Tobyas, the mantle-like vestments of battle-priest draping him, stood quietly to the side with Nekolia. The old man considered the younger cleric with that odd non-seeing but all-observing gaze of his. â€œSo, it is the young knight, hmm?â€ he asked suddenly. His thin hands were lying in his lap, motionless. Of them all, he was the most calm and reserved. â€œHow remarkable.â€ Toby turned to him, mild surprise registering on his face. The old man had hinted and even stated that he knew but now he gave it direct voice. â€œYes, it is him,â€ Toby said quietly. He looked from Nekolia, a physically spent and wasting old man, to Crispian, a hail and hardy young warrior. â€œSince the moment I met him, really.â€ A wistful smile passed over Tobyâ€™s face as he turned back to the packing of his needed supplies. â€œBut you have not told him, have you?â€ the old man asked. The ways of the young heart were not strange to him, nor were barriers of station and status, although he had to admit this was something he had not thought of encountering. He knew of vice and lust, but it was obvious even to him that what the young cleric felt was not just a matter of the physical, but something more. â€œAnd do you intend to, Tobyas Battlepriest?â€ His filmed eyes held Tobyâ€™s startled look. â€œI do not know if I can, good sir,â€ he said quietly, again turning back to readying what he needed. His hands shook slightly as he resumed his packing and preparations. â€œIt is not seemly to speak of such things, considering our differences.â€ He did not add the obvious statement about similarities. His coppery-brown hair gleamed in the dim light as he bowed his head to the pack he was finishing on. Nekolia grinned, a slightly haunted look coming to his face. â€œI loved her once,â€ he said in a hushed voice, â€œthis woman you are about to confront.â€ Tobyâ€™s head snapped up to look at the old man, meeting his gaze squarely. â€œOh, yes, even an old man like me was once stirred with passion,â€ he smiled in self-mocking humor. â€œBut, there were obstacles.â€ His thin hands rose and covered his face a moment, then slid over it and to his lap again. â€œI was a nothing, a peasant with a talent who had risen. No title, no lands, nothing had I for one such as her, and she was my student. There were question of propriety and a difference in rank, of course. She, the daughter of an ancient and noble home.â€ He gazed over Tobyâ€™s head and into his own past. â€œA beauty, as well, she was. Stunning in how she moved, in her every gesture there was grace. And her skill was so boundless. She could have been the greatest of our age, installed at the Academy and called on by the King. â€œNo, she was not this wicked creature you see now. Not even shortly before that disaster at her mansion.â€ He smiled again. â€œShe came to dine with me a few days before it happened, you know. She was upset, allowing her ambitions for her niece and her thirst for revenge to cloud her judgement. But still, I could tell she had beauty and poise, grace and power.â€ He trailed off for a moment, looking again toward Toby at last. â€œConsider just this, my young friend. If I had professed what I felt for her those forty plus years ago, we might not now be in this chamber, preparing for this confrontation with what she has but recently become.â€ He nodded softly to Tobyas, voice trailing low as Jashen reentered the room to hand Crispian a long bundle, nearly half the height of either twin. â€œAzi!â€ Crispian called, taking the package wrapped in dark blue silken cloth. He unrolled the wrapping, revealing a scabbard of worked silver around a wood core. A hilt of approximately two feet in length left the curved scabbard and was itself a work of art. â€œThis is a scimitar from a greater Telamon. I have been keeping it for a time when someone would need it.â€ He drew the shining blade out. It was nearly three and a half feet of steel, hardened in ancient fires and tested in recent battles. Not a nick or blemish stained the surface of it. â€œIf you would, I would have you wield it this night.â€ He passed the blade to Azi, hilt first over his forearm as he sank to one knee. â€œI ask you, My Lady, to bear this into the battle,â€ he said as she lifted the blade away. It was large, bigger than Mammaâ€™s blade, but balanced and sharp. Truly, a fine piece of work and crafting even if the origin was not completely to Aziâ€™s liking. Still, Crispian had defeated the foe, no doubt in the endless struggle to reclaim Lyonesse. She turned the blade over in the low light of the room, and then nodded. â€œI would be honored to use this blade for you this night, my liege,â€ she said rather formally, so to keep her rising emotions in check. Just scant weeks ago she had been so worried that Crispian would not be able to accept her as a warrior, a paladin. Now, on bended knee, he was offering her a blade that most of the realm would never see. â€œAnd victory shall be on its edge,â€ she added as he rose to his feet and gave her the scabbard, which Lexi helped her to begin to fasten. Toby watched the exchange, quietly. â€œMy Lord,â€ he called into the quiet of the room, motioning with his head for them to withdraw slightly to one side. When Crispian had joined him, near to the back of the room, he found that his thoughts were tangled and unsure. A nervousness gripped him unlike any he had known in his life. â€œLord, I wanted to uh, well, I wished to clear on, um,â€ he paused, looking more at the floor than Crispian. How could he express what he wanted to say, when it could all be changed shortly? â€œI wanted to say to you,â€ he pressed on, tongue dry and thick in his mouth, â€œthat I am very grateful for all that you have done for me.â€ Even as he ended, his words felt hollow and short of the mark he wished them to reach. Crispian smiled. So like Toby, he thought. To make sure all thanks had been expressed. â€œI, too, am very touched by all that you have done these past weeks, Tobyas. You have been a stalwart friend,â€ the young lord got out, not daring to speak more for lack of trust of himself. He began to turn. â€œIâ€™m not done,â€ Tobyas said quietly, locking his eyes on Crispian. It was now, he knew, now that he must get out what he wanted to say, and the fate of this night be damned. â€œI love you, Cris,â€ he said in a rush, â€œand itâ€™s not the curse or Dâ€™Vena or anything to do with that! Iâ€™ve been in love with you for a long while now. Yes, at first it was the image of you,â€ he continued you, grabbing Crispianâ€™s hand, â€œbut then I got to know you, and we had that afternoon in Ludlow, and I had to tell you all this now, or I might never be able to, after tonight, and I wasnâ€™t sure I could risk one of us not coming back and my not having said this.â€ He stopped. He was slightly shocked he had actually said this to Crispian. He could talk about this to others, but now he had thrown it out. The look of surprise on Crispianâ€™s face slowly changed to mild discomfort. He wasnâ€™t sure what he thought about it all in regard to Tobyas. Now, he had a confession of love to deal with. He himself had not yet started to deal with any of the emotional side of it, being a bit caught up in the physical still. â€œToby, I donâ€™t know how to answer you right now.â€ He felt a wash of self-consciousness come over him. â€œIâ€™m not sure what it is I want, or am supposed to want, or who. This whole mess had me turned around.â€ He saw the pain and hurt in Tobyâ€™s eyes immediately, but he would not lie, not about this and not now. â€œRight now, if you asked me to tell you, I would say that I do want you, but I donâ€™t know about love, or the future.â€ He lifted Tobyâ€™s hands and kissed the back of them. â€œTomorrow everything could change, even if I do survive this night. But if I do,â€ he looked deeply into Tobyâ€™s eyes, â€œI want you there in the morning, either way.â€ They remained like that for a moment, looking at each other. The silence in the rest of the room stretched on. Both of them could tell that the others were trying not to look, or notice. Suddenly, on great impulse, Toby grabbed Crispianâ€™s face and pulled it toward him, bending his head down. Their lips met and they kissed. It was a first for Crispian, being both sober and very aware of what he was doing. They lingered a moment, then he extracted himself, blushing like a farm lad at his first May dance. His throat worked convulsively for a moment as he tried to speak. â€œWeâ€™ll figure out what to do tomorrow, Toby,â€ he said quietly, very aware that everyone had stopped trying not to look at them sometime ago. They stood within inches of each other, but it seemed a world had suddenly come between them. Gray eyes met blue and Crispian had to look away first. â€œLetâ€™s finish our preparations here and get going,â€ he said in a voice thick with emotion. Toby looked on, knowing that more than the answers he sought about this young Briton would be found in the morning. He wondered if he would like what the new day had to bring. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	"It's rude to stare, Lex," Azi murmured under her breath as her sister tugged on the strap of her sheath. The sword was heavier than her mother's blade, and strangely curved. Azi knew she could manage it, though, and ached to see it draw D'vena's blood. She avoided following her sister's eyes. Instead, she made as if she was fastening a strap at her boot, looking down at the floorboards as Lexi continued to pull and stare at the two men across the room. "Oh, but look!" Lexi squealed softly, rapping on Azi's back excitedly, "Tobyas is leaning in!" At that moment, Azi's eyes flicked up to see Tobyas drawing away, and Crispian reddening deeply. She turned to see a wide-eyed Lexi staring, her hands to her mouth in shock. "He kissed him!" She breathed. Azi took Lexi by the shoulders and turned her so her back was to the others. The last thing she needed was for her sister to be asking her questions that she herself didn't know the answers to, especially not now. She didn't like the idea that Lexi had tagged along, especially now, knowing what Crispian had planned. A physical attack? Why hadn't he let her use D'vena's sloppy sorcery against her? "It's thier concern, none of your own," Azi said sternly, and Lexi jumped at her tone. "I think my boot strap is twisted, help me here..." -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	With a small amount of awkwardness, Crispian turned back to the assembled group. â€œNow, we need to be aware of a few things,â€ he said, drawing them all back together. Azi was blushing slightly as she looked from him to Toby, and Jashen seemed a bit uncertain of what to make of things. Lexi, being Lexi, looked openly from one to the other. He could not tell whether it was shock or amusement on her face, but it was surely one or the other. Nekolia perched on his seat, a secret smile on his face. That perhaps bothered Crispian the most right now. â€œFirst, everyone has to keep in mind that Dâ€™Vena, even in her right mind, is a dangerous foe. Now that we think she is seriously unhinged, it must be considered a possibility that she will be even more deadly.â€ He looked at them all. With the exception of Nekolia, whom he had just met, there was none here he would not die for. Yet, he knew that should any die, he would carry the burden with him forever. â€œAny of you might be killed, and again, I offer to let you free from any pledge you have to me.â€ His gray eyes went from one to the next, but all he saw was reassurance. â€œCrispian,â€ Azi said quietly, â€œI told you long ago I would aid you to end this, and that pledge includes tonight.â€ Her calmness seemed to increase as she said this. Capable wizard now become worthy paladin, she was steadfast in her belief in the man she followed this night. Yes, there was much in common between he and Judan, for Judan too would have asked none to accompany him except of their own accord. â€œI go where my sister goes,â€ Lexi stated defiantly. Her passion for the kindness and love that Azi had shown her burned like a bellows-fed fire. Her hands gripped the hilts of her blades tightly as she lifted her chin, daring Crispian to change his mind now. Jashen smirked, the same smirk he got whenever Crispian threw out a challenge to him. â€œIf you can face her, Cris, so can I.â€ He grinned roguishly at his older brother, but a tremor of nerves danced under one eye, the same tremor Crispian knew he had before meeting the enemy, but after they had been spotted. He could not fight down the matching grin to Jashenâ€™s. Nekolia moved his lips a moment and finally spoke. â€œâ€˜Twas I who taught her, and I shall stand against her,â€ he said in his thin voice. Even though his eyes saw not, it was clear he could see what was upcoming. He bowed his head as a tear rolled down his cheek. â€œWere it not that she had to die,â€ he said in a voice broken with emotion. At last, Crispian looked to Tobyas. He could barely meet his eyes, so intense was the feelings just recently brought to the fore. â€œAye, I go where my Lord goes,â€ the young cleric said. He put meaning into the word lord that left no doubt for any in the chamber of which he spoke. It was he who looked away this time though. â€œVery well,â€ Crispian said as he cleared his throat. â€œWe shall set forth to her chambers, then. May fortune smile on us, and maybe the Light prevail.â€ He again checked his swords, making sure both slid forth easily when pulled from their scabbards. His crossbow brought to him in his earlier days of hunting from deep Lyonesse, he set on Tobyâ€™s desk, for tonight it would not be needed. Settling helm over head, he left the visor up. â€œCome my friends, to the battle,â€ he said, turning with parade ground precision and heading from the room. Azi, Lexi and Jashen fell in behind and Toby helped Nekolia to his feet and allowed the old man to lean on his arm as they walked. â€œAh, young lad, that was well spoken,â€ the old man said quietly as they moved down the hall and navigated the stairs. â€œRemember, when this is done and you are shed of her, that love does not come easy, but cannot be forced,â€ he advised. â€œBut, if you two should find it, let the world be damned to separate you, no matter the consequences.â€ Toby looked sharply at him, even as he pulled the garth gate closed. â€œYes, I know,â€ was all the more the old man said. The journey to Dâ€™Venaâ€™s rented floors was about ten blocks. They crossed them in tense quiet. The rapping of Azi and Crispianâ€™s mail boots and the rustle of armor were their only accompaniment as they went. The shabby streets of the shadow quarter did not improve. In fact, they became more run down and worn, but none stood in their way. They reached the building and Jashen darted forward to scout. Tobyas prayed over them quietly, asking blessings from the Almighty that would aid each in the battle to come. Jashen returned to receive blessings last and then they were ready for it. â€œLooks like they are both sleeping,â€ he said quietly, seeming to fade before them with a stealthiness new to him. The way seemed open. Crispian adjusted his shield and cloak a final time and stepped forward, leading them all across the street. The entrance to the flats over the store was on the side of the building and gained with no troubles. The stairs creaked as they mounted them. Slowly, they went upward, pausing to listen for any sound from above. All their senses were predator keen and each looked about often, save for Nekolia, who seemed calmest of them all. In time, the door was before. It seemed to Crispian that this door had taken weeks to get to, weeks of struggle, failure, and strife, weeks of confusion, misery, hidden strength, and strange events. His gauntlet fist rested on the door latch, but he did not turn it. He was no assassin to sneak in, but a warrior. â€œDâ€™Vena,â€ he called as his fist slammed on the door, â€œI have come to face you in combat!â€ He threw the door open and walked into the chamber. A large bed was its center, cornered and canopied. Two tables were against either wall, one for dressing and one for refreshment. A rug of Dartmoor weave was upon the floor. Although worn, it was still valuable. â€œDâ€™Vena!â€ he announced, even as the stench of death filled his nostrils and he took a chill from the air in the room. Azi was already moving to his left, Lexi close to her side. Jashen was on his right, poison smeared blades bared and ready. Nekolia stood in the doorway as Tobyas broke up his satchel, pulling forth the reliquary and other items he had packed, along with the candles Azi had brought. â€œOramus,â€ he intoned lowly, lighting one candle from a tinder spark. â€œPater Omnipitence, lavabo mea et tua.â€ His hand sprinkled about with blessed water as he called on the Almighty to wash those assembled from sin. Droplets spattered them all, and some reached toward the bed where Dâ€™Vena rested. A wail filled the air as she rose to her feet. It was not a motion of standing, for her body remained rigid. She rose up, like a board being tipped into place. Her eyes burned with a ghastly blue light as she looked at them all. There was no mortal intellect behind those eyes as she surveyed them, hands rising in a claw like gesture. With a hiss of metal on metal, swords came free of their scabbards. Lexi, Azi and Crispian filled their hands with bared metal as Jashen faded from sight against the far wall. Nekolia, still in the doorframe, raised his hands to cast and Tobyas began a new prayer, a prayer of healing. As one, the three warriors moved forward toward their foe, standing so large upon the bed. The dread cold of the grave seemed to envelop them as they moved forward, fear and sorrow washing over them. In a voice the scintillated of laughter and the presence of more than one person, Dâ€™Vena spoke. â€œIs it that little play thing come to threaten me at long last?â€ The voice grated on the mind and soul, seeming to reach deep into each of them. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Cloak72 Posts: 2,470 Registered: Dec 23, '01 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 2,442 User ID: 572,511	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian felt D'vena's, or the being within her, mind press against his. The onslaught was terrible. Images of humiliation and pain flitted trough his imagination. He saw all that he loved destroyed. From somewhere in the darkness, he heard a single word hissed. "Varya." The sphere turned ice cold as the spell woven into it flared into life. Crispian felt the wall slam into place between D'vena and himself. Then he heard the voice again. "Now, lad. Finish this." -----signature----- Ayslyn Greenwillow, Night Elven Hunter, Runetotem Mokti, Troll Hunter, Runetotem "Pain shared is Pain divided; Joy shared is Joy multiplied" Everything I needed to know, I learned from drinking at Callahan's
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Azi stayed focused, though the voice pierced her like a thousand swords. Her eyes narrowed into thin slits. Though she was aware of all that surrounded her, there was nothing in the room to her, save herself and D'vena. She gripped her sword lightly, balancing on the balls of her feet, ready to pounce at her first chance against this foul evil. /bump -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The strange magic form the talisman he had been wearing since the night he met Tobyas and Ayslyn flared and Crispian moved forward, even as his friends braced from the onslaught of Mirthâ€™s Will and power. Like wading to sea against the tide, he ponderously advanced toward the figure atop the bed; blade held ready and low for a sweep strike. Crispianâ€™s blade rose, his shield instinctively raised. â€œI have come to end this, Dâ€™Vena. I will have my freedom of you!â€ he threw back at this thing which was and was not Dâ€™Vena. He felt sweat forming on his back and forehead. The chill air in the room almost caused him to shiver. In his side-vision, he saw Azi and Tobyas both standing to the ready. He advanced a step, the low murmur of prayer and spell moving with him. Plated boots and chain boots sounded on the floorboards of the room as they stepped. Mirth watched them approach, assessing them as threat. â€œYou are as nothing before us,â€ It chided them. The sanctity of the cleric did not trouble Mirth at all, for he could be challenge and destroyed. The doubt in the two little girls would soon be used to rip them apart, soul from body. The one in the middle, Dâ€™Venaâ€™s little obsession, he was no threat either, Mirth concluded. Yes, It could handle them all. â€œWe do not have to obey your authorities or threats!â€ The malevolent gaze seemed to consume them all, even finally taking in Nekolia against the door. â€œOld Man, have you come for what you lusted after?â€ It taunted. Frozen at the first words of Dâ€™Vena, or whatever was in her, again, they now moved forward. A wall of stench and cold welled up from area of her bed and she continued to hold a rigid posture, arm extended, but her fingers moved in no spell, no gesture of casting. Crispian swallowed down fear, sweat trickling down his brow, soaking into the leather padding of his helm. Again, he stepped forward. Tobyas was still to his side; book of healing prayer clutched in one hand, sacred water in his other. He was trying to angle to make for the side of the bed and construct a warding of holy might, but Dâ€™Vena did not seem to react in the least. He lifted the vial and again shook water over them all as they approached closer, the few feet form door to bed seeming to take a surreal amount of time to cover. â€œAnd you shall be baptized to the Almighty with water, washing you clean of sin and taint,â€ he intoned, blessing each again, giving them strength in the Almighty. A sudden blast caught him full in the chest, hurling him across the chamber. He slammed into the wall with a gasp, vial and missal falling to the ground. With a great grunt, he slid down to the floor, gasping for breath, his back alight with the fire of pain. â€œDo NOT call on your puny faith, man-lover!â€ Mirth shot at him. Tobyas gasped for breath, his mind suddenly assailed with a great force; his sanity pushed back, his reason assaulted with images base and vile. â€œThe Lord is my shepherd,â€ he muttered, clutching his holy symbol. â€œHe giveth me rest, he leadeth me in quiet meadows.â€ He filled his mind with images of sanctity, calling up the faith he had invested himself in. The assault continued, the images more crude and coarse, twisted and harsh. â€œNOW!â€ Crispian suddenly shouted and sprung into an assault. Perhaps it was his seasoning, perhaps it was the foes he had faced deep in the hell spawn of Darkness Falls, but he alone reached the creature with his blade, swinging a mighty blow that started with the tip near the floor and raced in an arc toward her. A savage yell burst from his lips as he swung. Mirth diverted itself from Tobyas long enough to flick Its left-hand at Apolexia and throw her against the far wall. She raised it palm up and Azaeli stopped in her tracks, shock and fear on her face. The great scimitar was frozen in place, even as she raised it to strike. â€œCRISPIAN!â€ she yelled, though she could not move any other part of her body. He turned not away from his blow, continuing upward with it, into the body of Dâ€™Vena. He felt the blade bite into her. Icy fire raced up the blade and into his arm, numbness spreading as his fingers went loose on the hilt and he cried out in pain. He slammed his shield into Dâ€™Venaâ€™s body with all the force he would use on a troll or telamon, and with some small satisfaction saw her fall back as he did so. Again, a brutal cold force engulfed him. Mirth sneered down at him even as blood ran from the gash in Dâ€™Venaâ€™s side. â€œCatamite!â€ she snarled, her hands making a grasping gesture and then a hurling motion, throwing Crispian across the room. The impact of him against the wall was loud, as was the crunch of bone snapping. Only the metal of his greave kept his legs from bending in a third spot where it was not meant to by nature. He rose, levering himself up with his sword, to watch in horror as Azi and Lexi both rushed forward, the elder paladin just steps ahead of her adopted sister. Their trio of blades swung through the air and seemed to connect, rending new gashes on the body of Dâ€™Vena, but the cold blue flesh around the wounds only gaped red and open. No blood flowed, nor entrails spilled. They drew back to hack again, but Mirth gestured and they fell to the ground, gasping in pain as their hands clutched at their heads from the pain of a million voices screaming in damnation and pain. Jashen, overlooked to now, took his moment to drop the remaining attendant to Dâ€™Vena, who stood to the side with a look of horror on his face as he watched his mistress assaulted so. Twin steel gauches, crafted by his brotherâ€™s hands, sank deep into the manâ€™s flesh, opening him to the kidneys. With a muffled cry, he slid bonelessly to the floor, bleeding out his life even as his renal system carried poisons into his blood stream. Death was racing through him even as death leached his life out. Nekolia released his held magic at the figure, as Mirth was intent on the women and making them suffer. His lips moved in great and terrible magic as his fingers danced and his arms gestured. â€œBend to my will, foul demon and fallen student. Harken to my mind! As I will it, so mote it be!â€ he called out in a voice that rang with power. No longer was he a wizened old man, but now he was master of his skill and craft. He released a stream of dancing lights and fog that swirled about Dâ€™Vena/Mirth and the contest was entered. His eyes blazed with power and the supreme mastery of will that a Primus Sorcerer could summon at will. Mirth wailed, throwing at him a lifetime of error, indulgence and want. Mirth drew on Its own mastery of human want and failing. Nekolia gritted his teeth and held firm with his ensorcelment of his foe. Mirth found no grip in his soul for Its clutches, for such was the resolve of a man who knew his life, his errors, and was resigned to them before the Almighty. Crispian rose, crying in agony as his weight hit his shattered leg. He advanced, left leg dragging behind him, sword acting as cane and support. â€œNO!â€ he screamed at this creature that was and was not his tormentor. Tears ran down as his cheeks as blood ran down his leg, both leaving their marks of passage. â€œNo,â€ he said again, moving forward. Tobyas rose from his slump to his knees and prayed from rote. He poured healing magics into Crispian, pleading the Almighty to give him power to sustain the young Lord as he advanced on the foe. He tried to picture the bones as they should be, formed, and knitted, but even from his distant place he knew the damage was too great for the simple healing magics he commanded. He withdrew the energy and sobbed at his ineffectiveness. Crispian sensed the waning power from Tobyas and called back, â€œHeal me, Toby!â€ He cringed again as he jarred his leg moving forward. â€œJUST DO IT!â€ he screamed over the cacophony of the fray. Hellish screeches, the scream of sorcery, and the wails of Azi and Lexi filled the air, but he shuttered his mind off from it. With the determination of one that knows the grave is his triumph, Crispian pressed on. With a more wretched sob, Tobyas resumed his prayers. â€œCoalescere, Domine, tuus servus Crispianus,â€ he said weakly, loosing the energies on Crispian, even as he knew they would not perform the task correctly. In his healing trance, he saw the bones reform and reshape, saw the blood rushing through to mend muscles and ligaments. He also saw the mis-set of the bone. Even as Crispian straightened, the pain leaving him, Tobyas could tell that he limped now due to bones set nearly an eighth-inch off. Crispian rose straighter, the power of the Almighty rejuvenating him to face the foe. As he advanced, his eyes widen in horror. Jashen was poised to hurl himself at Mirth/Dâ€™Venaâ€™s back, even as Nekolia called up a new spell. The instant froze for him as his brother launched himself and the old sorcerer released his spell. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Bashir_the_Bowman Title: Breaker of Bows Posts: 9,606 Registered: Aug 12, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 9,348 User ID: 705,575	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Bashir walks quickly throught the guild hall, seeking something though not quite sure what. -----signature----- Gaiscioch - Phoenix Throne Bashir - Witch Hunter, Belgae - Engineer, Comal - Bright Wizard For Sale: Parachute. Only used once. Never opened. Small stain. http://www.myspace.com/fsustage
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The moment froze in Crispianâ€™s mind, as it would be forever: Jashen lounging through the air, Azi and Lexi lying in pain, the slightly hysterical tone of Tobyâ€™s voice, and the calm incantations of Nekolia. It would always be as it was just then, a tapestry of life. So many things happened next, it was hard to sort out, even later when they discussed in hushed tones often used by those lucky to survive. Dâ€™Vena lurched to the side, a claw-hand connecting with Jashen in a mighty blow that sent him flying like a cloth doll across the chamber. Nekolia unleashed another pulse of his magic. Crispian, Azi and Lexi all moved. The women rose from the floor. Lexi sprung forward, her twin blades slicing for this fiend that had hurt her sister even as Crispianâ€™s blade was in motion again. Azi grasped the great scimitar double handed and prepared to follow them both with her own blow. Words of power fell from her lips in ritual chant, calling on the biblical imagery of battle, healing, and protection in such quick succession it was hard to tell which she was reciting. In the face of the onslaught, Mirth had little choice but to try to deal with her most evident foe and that was Lexi first. She grabbed at her chest, hands rending right through the chain armor as if it were worn cloth. Her fingers dug into the gambeson underneath as she flung Lexi toward Nekolia, hoping to distract or disable the sorcerer with her human missile. But choosing one foe in three is always tough, and Mirth miscalculated. As she released Lexi into an arc toward Nekolia, Crispianâ€™s blade bit into her side and unleashed a pulse of magic. A blue-black sphere emerged from the length of the blade and aided its momentum into the torn and battered body that had been Dâ€™Vena. Mirth wailed in agony as It sensed the mortal wound done to Its host. Years, nearly a lifetime, of cultivating hatred and misery was shattered in an instant. The vessel was ruined! This being would die, and Mirth must flee. It gathered its essence to itself and prepared for flight, as the lifeblood of Dâ€™Vena began to pump through her again. The body warmed and organs began to work, circulating blood and fluids through shattered limbs and into a torso thrice ripped by swords. Mirth lounged ethereally at her foes even as the great scimitar of Azaeli Hammerfel sliced into the chest of she who was Dâ€™Vena. The metal of the blade moved inexorably through the body. It split bone, muscle, and ligament as it ripped into the divine machine which is the human body. With no remorse, Azi drove her blow onward, her entire body behind it. She struck with passion, with the love of purity and truth that is the bastion of any Paladin. She struck with the love of a daughter for a mother lost to deceit, and of a friend who has watched a friend suffer and been helpless to right the wrong. This was her moment of Victory, in the Name of the Almighty who had brought them all into Life. So stalwart was her faith that Mirth was forced to abandon a path along the metal and in to the body of Azi. Mirth recoiled at the purity of heart and purpose in the girl, shrieking such a sound that glass shattered and ear rang. She next turned to Lexi, another potential weakling, but found that she was touched by one greater, and there Mirth would find no purchase. She sought the boy-priest, the perverted Cleric. Again, she recoiled. He WOULD have her to host, but only because of his love for the plaything of Dâ€™Vena, that Crispian-boy. She withdrew from the eagerness of his welcome, for she saw his intent to destroy himself as soon as she resided there. As he noticed, he resumed prayers, splashing about with the burning fluid blessed to his God. â€œThe Power of God Compels you,â€ he chanted at her, somehow able to follow her noncorporeal movements with eyes and hands. The hand that clutched his holy symbol served as visible anchor for him. What he held, he believed, and what he believed, he had power to act for. She shrieked again, for this cleric would not make the arrogant mistake some others made, that the power was theirs. No, he continued to call on the Divine, to invoke the Divine power, but never to own it. With a keen of spirit that could slay when needed and attached to living form, Mirth withdrew from his direction. The other boy-man was unconscious and would do her no good, for his shattered arms would prevent him from rising to her aid if she went there. No, she had damaged him too much, too soon. She squared against the one already touched, only to find him prepared for her. He held in his hand a glowing orb, an Elven orb that emitted a cold blue light. His gray eyes blazed at her even in the spirit realm. She could see each great breath he drew, and saw the blade he held against his own neck, dark with poison. He too was prepared for destruction of self if Mirth should touch him, but he was not welcoming. He challenged her to assail the fortress of his soul, and was prepared to pay for losing with his life. Mirth shrieked in Its demonic anger. To be faced with foes full of love and self-giving was not in her normal ken, and the golden hair boy-man was the worst. For in his mind and heart, she saw an offering of love in toto, a consuming passion for all and a deep belief in the good of Man Created by the Divine. She hated that, for only with a doubting of that could she work to turn any to her purpose. Then she heard it, a call. Nekoliaâ€™s eyes were closed as he again worked an incantation. He had studied it in his arrogant youth, and when he realized what it was, he had ordered the tomes burned, and the ashes scattered. Soul-abduction was the most foul of magics any could perform, and now, he incanted the words of power. A great light diffused from his body, spreading into the room. It swirled and shifted, touching surfaces and rising against the walls. â€œTo me,â€ he intoned arms wide, â€œto me, thou foul being from the nether world, to me, usurper of the will God has given.â€ His words were steady, calm, yet ringing with authority and power. It seemed for a moment, they were locked in that moment, Nekolia calling on Mirth, and Mirth trying to resist. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((whispers: "Back up there..)) ((holds her breath)) -----signature-----
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{old}LadyWinterborne Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	up, with you, up, dammit! -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((grr Winterborne, I thought it was a continuation! <glare> :P)) -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Nekolia gasped as he struggled for domination over Mirth, his enslaving spell worked to perfection. The clash of wills continued, though. His lungs burned with each breath he drew and his arms ached. Not in many years had he worked sorcery so power and mighty. â€œTo me,â€ he said in a weakening voice. â€œTo me, spawn of nether hell,â€ he chanted on. His heart thundered in his chest and his eyes rimmed with tears. His body was already spent, but his mind was as agile and firm as it had been seventy years prior when he became a mage, then a sorcerer. â€œAs I will it, so mote it be!â€ Tobyas rose to stand, his back a mass of burning muscle and his ears still ringing with the keening wail Dâ€™Vena had let loose. His raised his holy symbol before him as he staggered to the satchel he had brought. â€œThe Power of God compels you,â€ he chanted. The words tumbled out of his mouth, growing stronger and stronger as he walked, halting step becoming determined, firm movements. Blood trickled down his neck from a gash at the back of his helm. To move his left arm was an agony from how his shoulder hung, but he pressed on. Gaining the satchel, he reached in and withdrew the linen swaddled reliquary, hastily yanking off the wrapping. The Relic, usually an article of dubious history that was attributed to a saint of the church, was genuine in this case. The gold and silver, gem-encrusted shrine housed the bones of a factual saint. In his spiritual senses, the raw power of the object assailed him as badly as Mirth had. Pure dedication to the Almighty, Mother Church, and his faith radiated forth in pulsing rings of power. Tobyas grasped it in his hands and raised it up. â€œBy the Sacrifice of Holy Martyrs, we believe in the power of God. That power now compels you to go forth from this chamber, from her occupants, and descend to thy nether home, foul creature of reviled evil, servant of He who was cast out.â€ His shaking hands raised the reliquary up, only to be steadied by Aziâ€™s slim and firm hands. Her face was streaked with tears and tangles of blond shown under her helm. However, her hands, upon the stem of the reliquary that supported the spheroid home of the bones, were firm and steady. As Tobyas continued to drone the words of a minor exorcism, Azaeli bowed her head, hands supporting his in raising the relic against their foe. Her voice, always a fine tenor in tone, rang with conviction as she intoned the psalm that filled her mind. 1He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. 2I will say of Jehovah, He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in whom I trust. 3For he will deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, And from the deadly pestilence. 4He will cover thee with his pinions, And under his wings shalt thou take refuge: His truth is a shield and a buckler. 5Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night, Nor for the arrow that flieth by day; 6For the pestilence that walketh in darkness, Nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday. 7A thousand shall fall at thy side, And ten thousand at thy right hand; [But] it shall not come nigh thee. 8Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold, And see the reward of the wicked. 9For thou, O Jehovah, art my refuge! Thou hast made the Most High thy habitation; 10There shall no evil befall thee, Neither shall any plague come nigh thy tent. 11For he will give his angels charge over thee, To keep thee in all thy ways. 12They shall bear thee up in their hands, Lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. 13Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: The young lion and the serpent shalt thou trample under foot. 14Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name. 15He shall call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble: I will deliver him, and honor him. 16With long life will I satisfy him, And show him my salvation. Crispian steadied himself, gaining his breath. Before him, on the bed, was the collapsed and broken body of Dâ€™Vena. No force, her own or other, animated it now. Her eyes gazed out unseeing at the room and the horror that was playing out in it. Oddly, in death she looked serene and calm, at least her face did. He was almost moved to weep for her. A foe, indeed, but one who had wagered with power beyond her ken to do her will. His moment of introspection was gone as quickly as it started as he turned to the struggle behind him. He shifted shield slightly as he turned. He malformed left leg dragged slightly as he turned with a wince. The form of Mirth, discernable even outside of the host-body of Dâ€™Vena, was horrible. It vaguely once might have been human, but unlike other ghosts that walked the realm, no longer did it cling to that image. A bulbous head perched on a corded neck thick with muscles. A skeletal, emaciated body with long, swinging arms and multi-jointed legs was beneath and an oozing skin of gray slime covered the whole. He drop his blade, the fine edge that Lexi had put on it now blunted the length from the blast of cold he had endured. His right hand reached to his shoulder and slid out the slaying blade that Toorc had given him. â€œThis blade will slay Dâ€™Vena,â€ the older Avalonian had told him. He had been partially right. This blade was meant for Mirth, to dispatch the presence to Its vile home. â€œTo ME!â€ Nekolia snarled, louder than the last time. Mirth roared in defiance. Azi and Tobyas staggered under the volume of her opposition. Lexi shuddered, turning away and crouching against the far side of the bed. Her face was a mask of emotions that ran over it in such rapid confusion that none could discern it. She moved as far from the milling fray as she could, reaching the crumpled body of Jashen. Weeping, but not for him, she pulled his head into her lap and stroked the matted blond hair. Crispian slashed at the air, raking the blade through Mirthâ€™s essence. Mirth wailed at the strike, spinning to face the warrior and counter-strike with a great smash at his soul. Crispian recoiled, striking again and a third time. The pulsing purity of the reliquary, aided on by the fervent prayers of Azi and Toby, drove him forward. Mirth struck, countering blows, and fell back, becoming weaker with each ethereal strike It took. In that instant, Crispian was the best he had ever been in battle, perhaps the best he would ever be. He parried, struck with his shield, and drove forward as his foe gave ground in the small chamber. Weakened, diminished, and wounded, Mirth could not stand the dual onslaught of purity and might from one side and compelling command from the other. It shrieked Its rage even as it knew it had lost. Nekolia continued to roar his commands at Mirth and Crispian pressed the assault. In a final, hideous, unforgettable moment, Mirth plunged into Nekolia, striking him full in the chest and causing him to stagger, clutching at the doorframe for support. â€œNow, boy, do it, ere she overwhelm me!â€ he cried out as she took claim to him. His film covered eyes met Crispianâ€™s for an instant. â€œDo this for me, Crispian, son of Jasper, who was my companion,â€ he gasped, shuddering as the flood of energy from his spell ebbed and Mirth took a firm hold. In a single motion, Crispian raised the blade, kissed the crossguard in salute and plunged it into the old manâ€™s skull. The blade pierced flesh and spirit, severing forever the union of one to other. A bolt of force coursed back over the blade, hurling Crispian away even as he raised his shield to guard himself. He hurtled through the air to collide with the far wall and slump to ground, even as Nekolia was crumpling within the doorway. The old manâ€™s hand was raised in a gesture of blessing even as the last breath rattled from his lungs. A silence filled the room as all returned to normalness, save for a ruckus in the street below. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((a bit more closure to come later, and I wanted the 400th post)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	I think I just discovered how long I can hold my breath. Crispian.. I can't even begin to try and tell you how awesome that was. -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	BUMP -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/Bump for stupendous postifferousness.. Crisp that Stroy was a helluva trip, can't wait to hear some of the wind down for you. Just claimed Hurbury in yer name in honour of you beating D'Vena ((Well not really but LOL)) -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Silence settled over the chamber as the smell of blood and gore filled it. Toby and Azi slowed rose to their feet, perspiration dappling their foreheads. Toby went to Nekoliaâ€™s body, seeing the gaping wound in his head, the twisted remains of the sword close at hand. Although it was evident, he leaned in close to listen for the heartbeat he knew would be absent. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, even as his hands opened his psalter. In a soft voice, he began to read from the prayers for the dead, wondering how often he would do this in the next few minutes. â€œI waited for the Lord,â€ he started, â€œI implored him, and he heard me. From the mire of clay, he lifted me. He set me upon solid rock. My footsteps he made firm.â€ His voice droned on in the room as he signed Nekoliaâ€™s body with sacred oils, commending him to the Lordâ€™s care, and praying for his sin. He had only met the old man in the past days, but he was certain of his sanctity, at least in his final act. Azi bowed her head for a moment for the fallen man, whom she had not known. Then she turned her attention to the others in the room. Lexiâ€™s sobbing drew her attention first. She found her adopted sister cradling Jashenâ€™s head in her lap and crying. Azi knelt down, her armor sliding against itself in a metallic hiss. â€œItâ€™s ok, Lexi, itâ€™s ok,â€ she murmured softly, stroking Lexiâ€™s hair. Lexi raised her eyes to Azi. â€œNo, itâ€™s not,â€ she said in a voice that was both hurt and angry. â€œWhat do you know about it being alright?â€ Her words were harsh, but she knew that Azi knew nothing of this type of suffering. She blinked quickly several times, but could not keep tears from coming. It had been a long time since her grandfather, but she still could not shake off the memories. Azi felt it was better to not fight this battle now. Instead, she turned her attention to Jashen. He was skill, and she noted how his arms hung at unnatural angles. Her fingers caressed his chin and rested lightly on his throat. She closed her eyes as she found no pulse, no echo of his heartbeat. She could not tell Lexi right now, but knew that Crispian would want to hear. The subject of her thoughts was stirring, bracing his sword so that he could get himself up. He groaned as every muscle and joint of his body protested even the slightest movement. His left leg burned with pain and his sword arm was numb to the shoulder, hanging lifeless at his side. The remains of his shield dangled from his left arm, and he slid the straps off with a shrug and let it fall to the floor. Blood smeared his armor in several places and some peices of it were ruined. Still, he managed to gain his feet and yank his helm off. â€œIs everyone alright?â€ he asked in a shaking voice, not sure if he himself was. Slowly, he started toward the small group. â€œIs he dead?â€ he called to Toby, who paused in his prayers to nod, then turn back to the fallen sorcerer. â€œYou three alright?â€ he asked, drawing closer. It was than that he saw the look in Aziâ€™s eyes, the tears silently rolling down her cheeks. His face contorted in a grimace of pain. â€œJash?â€ he asked weakly, to be answered by a slow nod from Azi. He sank to the floor on his knees. â€œOh god, not Jashen!â€ he cried out, his shoulders slumping forward as the first great sob wracked his body. â€œNo, no, no,â€ he muttered. Azi felt helpless, caught between her sister and her friend. She raised pleading eyes to Tobyas, who was crossing toward them. His vestments were marred with spots of blood and he looked exhuasted. His face was grim as he again opened his book of prayer and knelt next to Jashen, beginning to intone again the fortieth psalm. But, he felt something. The ethereal bound of body to soul was not broken! Jashen could yet live! But he would have to work a great rite of resurrection, and his too could end up maimed if Tobyas did not do the spell correctly. He bowed his head in prayer. His titian hair was a wild tangle of sweat matted and finger stirred areas. â€œWhen they came to the tomb, he said to them, â€œRoll the stone aside,â€ but they protested. â€œTeacher, he has been dead these three days.â€ But he looked to them again. â€œRoll the stone aside,â€ he repeated, â€œfor our brother is not dead, but only sleep.â€ His hands moved through the motions of the ritual, ending in a palm uplifted to heaven in entreat. Sweat ran freely down his face as he stood, rigid and frozen. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Tears slid down Azi's face unchecked as she bowed her head and prayed with all of her power for Jashen. This man, this dear friend, this brother in her heart. He had to live, she couldn't bear it otherwise, she loved him so dearly... After all they'd faced together, after everything, it couldn't end this way. One hand remained gently on Jashen's neck hoping to feel some evidence of life, the other reached to grasp Crispian's tightly, in comfort for herself as much as for him. She listened to Tobyas' voice, stretched and exhausted as he spoke, and sent her strength to him. Fervently, she prayed, choking back sobs, for Jashen to return. -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/back to the top please -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/Bump back onto page one Flashback: "Now lad" said the voice "Finish this" -Good advice.. edit faster and post us some more! Does Jashen survive?? Enquiring minds want to know more!!!! -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((I put a new image on my laptop yesterday, so am just getting back into the writing)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Jashen stood in a room tiled in white and gray marble. Light diffused through it from no apparent source. To one end were gates wrought of gold and silver, leaves and grapes intertwined with doves and crowns. At the other was a gate of black iron, twin slabs of solid metal mounted flush to the wall. Others milled about the room as well, and he thought he had glimpsed Nekolia passing through the shining gate of gold and silver. He moved in that direction, feeling oddly none of the wounds he had suffered in the confrontation with Dâ€™Vena, included the shattering of his arms from hitting the wall. He flexed them as he walked, curious at that but strangely detached. A man stood before the gate, looking young and hale. He was clad in ancient armor. A breastplate worked in fine scales covered his torso, but his arms were bear to a pair of matching bracers. He was girdled in a leather skirt heavy with metal plaques that rustled against each other as he moved. A mass of curly red-golden hair escaped from a Corinthian style helm. He wore sandels that laced to his knees and over them had fastened richly detailed greaves. In one hand, he held a bared short sword made for stabbing, and in the other a ring of keys. A small bracer covered his lower left arm. He watched Jashen approach. â€œWhat is it you seek, Jashen Michael Pontiff?â€ the man asked in a voice that was aching to hear, so rich was it with love. His eyes did not look at Jashen, but rather seemed to shine through him, as if in a glimpse he had accounted for, assessed and ajudged every act in Jashenâ€™s life. â€œWhatâ€™s is beyond that gate?â€ Jashen asked, his throat suddenly constricted, for he knew he wanted to pass beyond that gate, to be on the other side. Perhaps more than anything in his life, he wanted that. â€œBeyond that gate,â€ the man answered a smile danced upon his lips and eyes, â€œis Unity with the Almighty, oneness in his Love and Compassion.â€ Jashen was stunned. â€œHeaven?â€ he asked in a soft whisper, barely breathing the word. The man smiled again. â€œSome do call it that, others, Elesium, and even others Asgard. The perception of the One who Created is as varied as his children are.â€ Again he smiled that dazzling smile of one who had long shared that perfect unity, that concert with the Divine. As he spoke, a bead of light expanded on the wall midway between to the two gate. It grew to become a portal, opening onto a corridor of pure incandescents. Jashen heard his name called from that opening. â€œWhat is that?â€ he asked with a measure of worry in his voice. â€œThat is the one you call Tobyas, and your Brother and friends, calling you back to life,â€ the man told him. His eyes grew kindly as he gazed as Jashen. â€œNow you must choose, Jashen Michael. Shall you stay here and perhaps pass through one of these gates, or shall you go back and share in the life you gave up?â€ Jashen was confused. Was he not already truly dead? Was his life not ended in that moment when he struck to save Crispian? To divert Dâ€™Vena from being able to strike at him? Could he REALLY be called back? The man nodded to him. â€œYes, the gift of resurection is great and power. Even from so powerful of a death as that you suffered. The Ethereal bound to your body yet existing.â€ Jashen pondered this. He felt so peaceful and calm here, and if he unitied with the Divine, with Almighty God, would he not know eternal peace, as the clerics had promised? Would not salvation be his? On the other hand, Crispian apparently was alive. His sacrifice had worked. But how would his brother deal with being alone, a single twin? Jashen looked to the shining gate, and to the blackened one. He shook his head with a wistful smile. â€œI shall return, as they call me. Perhaps one day, one time, none in the world will need me, or my tasks will be done.â€ He bowed to the man in the strange armor who regarded him with a questioning look. â€œReturn then, and live out humanityâ€™s greatest gift: unconditional love. For you have it for your brother and others, I can tell.â€ As Jashen turned and was about to step into that odd shimmering portal, the man raised his hand in salute. â€œFare thee well, bearer of my Name, and son Of Jasper.â€ With a jolting stop, Jashen took to his body again, rolling over and vomiting violently. He spat and turned to his friends and his brother, who were all obviously weeping and much distraught. He smiled at them, a sort of crooked, lopsided smile. â€œSo you won and still let me die?â€ he quipped, but got no further. Crispian pulled him up from the floor and wrapped his arms around him in a great hug which made his ribs creak from the pressure. â€œDonâ€™t you dare die before me, little brother!â€ he whispered to him, kissing his cheek and holding him tight. â€œI would be lost without you.â€ Azi looked up, her hands covering her mouth as she let out a small squeal of joy, jumping up and adding herself to the brotherly hug. Tobyas rose to his feet, helping Lexi to hers and smiled himself. He clapped Jashen on the back with his own joy. â€œWelcome back, Jashen,â€ he said quietly. The sound of feet on the stairs drew their attention as a group of people entered the room, Bashir had rounded up some of the League and brought them here, with haste. Last in the door were Mirashta and Oakleif. Oakleif looked about and then considered the little knot of people. â€œWell, did we arrive too late?â€ he asked dryly. Mirashta, however, went directly to Crispian and grabbed him, shaking his shoulders. â€œDonâ€™t you ever do something like this without me again!â€ she scolded. â€œDo you think I achieved Wizard Primus just to guard Albion from her foes?â€ Her eyes flashed anger at them both. â€œYou two always try to do it all!â€ She pulled him into a warm embrace. Oakleif, his Generalâ€™s chain still gleaming with newness, looked over the room. Well, you did a good job of nearly ruining the room at least.â€ He aided Lexi up. â€œBut now let us get you all back to the League Hall and we shall deal with the Guards when they come about.â€ The small group picked up their wares and repacked them. Tobyas passed the reliquary to Azi. ((to be continued)) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/self bump -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump my final addition to your talegood Sir Pontiff! hope you like it... A tremendous spiritual wave of energy flew through the streets of Camelot. A roar of unnatural hate and malice echoed through the minds of many, and no sensitive soul could fail to notice that something had taken place this night. Arcalan opened her eyes with care. Was that D'Vena? If so she'd been far more dangerous than she had anticipated. Crispian, or one of his allies, must have won... that meant she must begin the next step before word reached the League hall. She made her way carefully downstairs into the main chamber, and when she laid eyes on the member of the League there, she collapsed sobbing deep heartfelt sobs before them. Not a feinting fit this time, but the tears of the penitent, washing away her past life in a flood of emotion. She was, in that moment, utterly transfigured from the haughty she-witch known by many into the weeping young woman, who has faced her crimes and found herself wanting. All her acting had been but a shadow of this performance, and her guise was well wrought by years of study in decite. As she sank to her knees the spell her master had implanted in her mind found the right time to unravel. Crispian and Jashen were filled with emotion, their defences weaker than before. They felt joy, and not anger or bitterness, and so the spell would only work half as well as intended. Still though, out it flew: "Crispian, Jashen thy souls to mine, Bound in cords of ancient spells, Nevermore shall anger cross the line, Thy hatred this enchantment quells. Till I harm thee I pay this tribute, To still thy wrath And make peace absolute." They would no longer quarrel with Arcalan, till she moved against them. The twins and her own fight with them was now wrapped in a peace-enforcing invocation, until she broke it by doing them harm. Time would show that one was left however, one who would doubt Arcalan. One who had touched the mind of D'Vena and her servants, and yet knew that Arcalan had not been among them... But now is a time for joy, and so reader, read on to hear of the end of the tale, of what transpired when those five brave heros left the Shadow Quarter... -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	With shakey hands, Azi took the reliquary from Tobyas and reached an arm around her sister. Shaken and exhausted, the two leaned on each other and made thier way downstairs to the street. (OOC: just a lil /bump )) -----signature-----
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Apolexia Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<holding azi tight, confused and frightened about what happened this day, but a smile came to her face as she realized everything might turn out okay afterall> /a slight little bump =P -----signature-----
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/yes another bump <waits> -----signature-----
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Zollinar Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Crispian, any plans to throw this together in one spot as an entire story? Keep up the GREAT work!! -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	The remainder of the group, Jashen, Crispian, and Tobyas made their way back to the League Hall with Mirashta, Oakleif, Bashir and some others of the League. Their steps were heavy as they trod through the evening quiet of the streets of Camelot. Crispian continued to move with a slower step, favoring his left leg from the shattering that Tobyas had healed so hastily. In his sword hand, he held the hilt from the sword Toorc had given him. It would never again be a weapon of beauty but it was a reminder to him of what one could overcome against the greatest odds. Jashenâ€™s steps were heavy with fatigue and a bit of uncertainty. He had made a momentous choice, being so close to the nether side of the veil between life and death. In his heart, he knew the choice to be the right one, but his mind questioned the wisdom of it. The bounty of a life well lived could have been his, but at the moment he had been faced with that decision he had been unsure which gate he would pass through. Returned, he was now resolute to make the right choices about life and all other manner of things. This was like a rebirth for him, and he would not allow doubts or questions to plague him this go around. He felt more assured in his fraternal love of Crispian that ever before, and even felt that he could let his love for Azi grow into the supporting, brotherly love she had never known for lack of a brother. Maybe he would even be able to tolerate that snipe of a woman Arcalan, but he would rely on the help of the Almighty for that. Tobyas walked in a daze. So great a foe from the beyond he had rarely heard of and their defeating of it, of this Mirth-demon was unorthodox to all he knew, but so was much about the realm. He did not know how he would stand with Crispian now, but he knew they would have to weather that out, come what may. A good nightâ€™s sleep, a bath, and then start to deal with the aftermath of this night, at least in respect to their relationship. It would be a hard course, he was sure, for Crispian would be asking himself questions Tobyas had long ago dealt with, and trying to find those answers. Toby vowed, as he walked through the night-quiet streets, to live with whatever decisions Crispian reached. At long last, they arrived at the League Hall, a single guttering lantern marking the street entrance. Opening the great door, Crispian led them in, to be greeted by those of the League who favored these hours of night. Many faces old and new looked at him and he favored them all with a small smile, small from fatigue not from lack of love for them all. â€œYou look like youâ€™ve been through it tonight, friend,â€ Dracarn commented as he offered the young Seneschal a tankard of frothy ale from their keg. â€œA rough go of it?â€ Crispian looked at Dracarn, and all the others in the hall, and grinned a tired grin. â€œI paid a price tonight, that had to be paid,â€ he said as he settled onto a stool. He thought over what the past two months had been like for him, for his friends, and for the League. It has been hard going to be sure, he knew. The curse, the possession of Dâ€™Vena, for whom he now felt great pity rather than rage, and now finally this great resolution. It had all been a battle hard fought, and now, hard won. He would not want to have to go through it again, nor would he have gone through it in the first place, if the choice had been his to make. Now that it was over, though, he felt a stronger man, a stronger person, and with the Grace of the Almighty, he would be a stronger leader. He nodded to Dracarn. â€œYes, I paid the Price, but, The Price has been paid.â€ He then raised the mug and took for the first truly satisfying pull of ale in some time. **Not to Continued** OOC- It has been a great run,but I think 416 is a good spot to close the story, and I just killed off the antagonist! (grin) Maybe see you all in another story. Terrance (the Guy behind the toon) -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	WOOT TERRANCE! -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/completely shamless self-bump -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<Clapping> Well done milord TJ. A fine tale indeed -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<in denial> <waits for more> Was a ton of fun to read and be a part of, Crispian. Thanks for the well-needed escape from reality. I hope to write lots more with ya in the future! -----signature-----
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midynn Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump for mordekai -----signature-----
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CelephaisBlue Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/ooc Wow, I am amazed, and pleased, to see this bumped after so long. -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/bump it again! I like that! Crispian where the heck have you been hiding? <cry> -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Felt like wakin' up the old dinosaur. <bump> -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Dinosaur indeed!!!!!!! -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Toorc Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	She wasn't talking about the thread Crispy! -----signature-----
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/epic posts bump -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	WOW! Post edit the totals are: Pages: 395 Words: 265,217 Characters: 1,039,262 (no spaces) Characters: 1,278,614 (with spaces) Paragraphs: 4,605 Lines: 22,354 and now for pass #2 -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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CarringtonSony Posts: 5,819 Registered: Apr 5, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 5,583 User ID: 665,238	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	<smirks> Couldn't let it die eh Crisp? -----signature----- Mali principii malus finus. Don't open it.
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Crispian_Pontiff Title: The Writing Mod Posts: 10,684 Registered: May 8, '02 Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 10,191 User ID: 676,749	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	This is gonna be a book buddy! -----signature----- Crispian Pontiff, Seneschal, St. Crispin's League Council member, Omnia Patricius, General, Defenders Http://www.warlordcentral.com - Omnia Patricius's home site http://Writing.Com/authors/crispian My writing site
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Thrail Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	She wasn't talking about the thread Crispy! rawr. <waggles eyebrows> -----signature-----
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Azi-Icemistress Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	Weeee!! And I get to read it before all of YOU!! <goes back to chapter 12> -----signature-----
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darnyk Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	/brushes the dust from a old tome -----signature-----
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Chan_chan Posts: ???? Registered: ???? Extended Info (if available) Real Post Cnt: 0 User ID: 0	Subject: The Price of the Fall (RP)
	((Just doing my part to preserve some of Nimue's past, don't mind me)) -----signature-----
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