The Muse (Part 6)

Starlight came down upon the world and Waterdeep, only to be greeted by darkness. At night nightmares from Skullport crept through Waterdeep.
 

After stepping through the portal, Quyen had to wait a bit for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He kept his finger on the trigger of his crossbow and waited. He smelled the dense, grubby air of a city. He thought he would have heard it as well, but he didn't. What he heard didn't belong in a city. The hairs on the back of his neck raised up, and he pressed the trigger of his crossbow. An arrow flew into the darkness and something yelped. Murmering a spell for flying, Quyen started running until he felt the spell take effect. He leaped and flew up, landing on the nearest roof.

In the distance divine wrath burst from the heavens and cracked down onto the streets. Quyen turned his head away to shield his eyes from the light. He cursed, as he preferred them adjusted to the darkness. But then again, at least now he knew where to start looking. And since people didn't cast spells like that for no good reason, Quyen knew he should make hast. And so, he flew.

As he shot over the rooftops, he saw things run in the shadows beneath him. Evil things. The wizard frowned and his hand moved to a bolt with a crystal tip in his pouch. Loading the crossbow, he crossed the last rooftop between him and Calliope, witnessing the battlescene:

A large demon clad in black armour, with glowing red eyes, wielded a large mace and laughed as it lifted the mammoth weapon. After raising it, it slamming the weapon down into the levitated shield that was the only bullwark between Calliope and death. The shield was flung aside by the impact, its levitating spell dying as it clanged onto the cobbles next to Calliope and her weapon.

Once more the demon raised the giant mace, stepping forward and aiming for the kill. Quyen forced his willpower to close the distance between him and the demon. Effectively filling the space between Calliope and the weapon. As the mace came down, a hovering Quyen blocked it with his left arm, straining himself as he struggled against the fury of the demon. He planted his foot on the demon's breastplate, then pulled the crossbow's trigger, firing the bolt into the critters exposed neck. The crystal exploded and lifted the demon off his feet, smashing it into the building behind.


Remembering there was more evil prowling the streets tonight, Quyen held his left arm up and cast a spell that summoned a stom of meteors. As fiery destruction rained down upon the streets of Westbridge, and the demons that crawled through it, Quyen decided to split.

Turning to face Calliope - who was in a bad condition - he scooped her off the street. Holding her in his arms, he ran. Higher and higher, until he was in the air above the city, hidden in the darkness of the night. "City of Splendors my ass, " he thought, and eyeing the battered Calliope, "Me and my big mouth, where to now? "

The Short Cut II

Ror walked down the hallway towards the Makou Gateways, while Quyen followed. Arrived, they stepped into a circular room surrounded by windows. Normally, there would be a perfect mixture of energy and natural sunlight, but tonight only the eerie glow of makou-fueled energy illuminated the Gateway Room. Quyen studied the large gates before turning his attention to Ror. The resonating energy seemed to cast a shadow over the elf that made him look like the rippling surface of a lake, too dark to see into. It scared Quyen. "Not many wish to stay long near these Makou Gates, " said Ror, "it's the energy levels. To be honest, I find it quite soothing to be here. " Quyen grunted, "Yeah whatever, this definitely does not float my boat. Which one do I need? " Ror pointed at a gateway to the right of Quyen. "That one leads directly to Waterdeep, City of Splendors. If I am not mistaken, the destination of Calliope. " Quyen spat a cigarette butt out and lit a new cigarette to keep his nerves under control. "I hate portals, " he said, as the first whisps of smoke rose up toward the dome. "Let's get this over with. "

Ror nodded. He knew Quyen for a long time now, as well as his hatred for portals. In fact, Quyen hated all things wizards did. Casting spells, stepping through portals and relying on magic. It was why Ror liked Quyen so much.

"Do you know how to get back? " asked Ror. Quyen, loading an arrow onto a crossbow, looked up from the weapon and said sarcastically, "I click my heels three times, Dorothy? " Ror chuckled, "Looks like you'll be alright then. Nonetheless, I brought a map for you in case... " But Quyen was already stepping through the portal, loaded crossbow in his hand.

Karsus

There's no art of Karsus.

Description

A tall slender figure dressed in white and blue wizard robes, his hood covers most of his head but you see the outlines of his face and his piercing blue eyes. He wields a beautiful jewel encrusted sword in his right hand and in his left he holds a glowing knife. A shield enfused with demonic essences floats in front of him and

Reborn at the mercy of Mystra, condemned to serve as the personal bodyguard of Lady Ceridwen for eternity.Filled with remorse after his folly he was honored with such an assignment and took an oath to serve Mystra and uphold the weave. With his life he will defend the Mystran way of life and the life of his beloved lady Ceridwen.

Roleplay Notes

November 2013

Arlenia

There's no art of Arlenia Enyo.

Description

The days of living have long passed for this woman. She stands at an impressive 5'9" tall, with her long, dark hair pulled back into a braid that hangs to the middle of her back. Her eyes burn red with an all consuming hatred and rage. Upon her skeletal body hangs a long cape and studded armors that once covered a beautiful body, but hang useless from the bones and sinew that are animated by necromantic magicks alone. Far from mindless, this lich is fully aware of her pain, her existence, and seeks above all else retribution and revenge. She appears undeniably confident, her skeletal face forced into an eternal grin that competes with what little flesh is left on her face. A dark magic aura rolls from her, driving her beyond life, beyond death.

Roleplay Notes

November 2012
October 2012
September 2012
August 2012
May 2012
April 2012

Banion

There's no art of Banion.

Description

Banion is a stout man, standing nearly six feet tall. His head is balding and ringed with white hair. He wears a thick brown robe, tied with a rope, looking very nearly like a friar. He is the healer for the village on the Dark Continent, but the spark of intelligence in his blue eyes speaks to something far deeper... perhaps far more sinister...

Roleplay Notes

November 2013

Inigo

There's no art of Inigo.

Description

You see a pudgy little halfling. He doesn't seem like the fittest of all adventurers, and has a little potbelly. On second glance you could swear his body composition is, in fact, mostly lard, and couldn't even best a dwarf in a footrace. At least he is clean and smooth shaven, his clothes made from supple calf leather. He looks comfortable. A pouch is tied to his belt, chock full of cured meat snacks. He is happy.

Roleplay Notes

November 2013

The Order and the True Archway

This temple opened with the same key and we found an encampmen the Order of the Radiant Heart had been here a long time. We had found footholds throughout the many temples but this was where they had made their base.  They were focused on an Archway. A darkened gateway with a powerful guardian who destroyed any that opposed him. He was not unable to be reasoned with though. The trials he demanded of those seeking to pass through the true archway.

Inigo and I made our camp on there outskirts of the Temple, away from a  massive battle that was taking place to the south.  The Order would even join the knights who guarded the temple from time to time, but their goal and ours was to find the true archway of the City of Shade.  We had all come so far but with each passing day we grew weary.  There were a few oddities and more markings in the temple.  The most disturbing of all in this place was the shattered Spirit of Karsus, the undoer of the weave, the one whose folly forced Lord Shadow to conceal the floating city Shade of the Netheril in the  Shadow Realms.

This the scrolls could tell us but we would be given help another way.  After  losing track of how long we were within the shadow temple Masks message came to us.  It was at this time we had to make ourselves known to each other and it seemed the Order had known much.  There was enough time to ask  only three questions.

He had brought us back to the weeping child again but we soon traversed into the Temple, further than ever. The most important revelation was that of where the true Archway lay hidden.  It was where the ritual must be performed. And where a strange circle and a man who would only tell us he was the lost apprentice stood.

The Order marched back to their base encampment, the leaders conversing in hushed tones and wild gesticulations.  Inigo and I stared at each other and we  studied the area. Trying to figure out how a whole Archway could be concealed here.

The Lost Pages and the Weeping Child

The New City was no challenge to her.  The sorrow of this city was ancient.  Those who could have remembered were almost all gone and those that did took solace in the New City they had built by the sea.  Thoughts of where to travel next consumed her.  She could feel the pain in the world but it seemed hidden from her.  As if it had been sealed away from the world.  A shadow of what it once was. 

The veil was broken for me.  The book fell from the heavens and glowed  with an eerie light.  The very air around it crackled with magic.  Not something to be seen but felt.  It contained the 12 scrolls.  The writings of the only one to have traversed the shadow temple and seen the spirit of Karsus and seen the ritual performed by the Knights of Shade and the Nexus Monk.  An inscription in the book was as if it were written in shadows and disappeared completely in the light:

"Find the child, you and others have been shown the way to undo the sorrow."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was months before I met Inigo in the clouds, lost within them. The bear at his side looked as frustrated as he did with the place.  I let them see me and he was glad for the company as we found our way out. It was then we met the child, sobbing continually. I did all I could to comfort him but the few things that brought him any solace only bring more tears to his eyes.

We spent all out days searching the ruins of the temples.  The child's cries echoing throughout the area a constant reminder to us that we were in the right place.  The scrolls held the answer, and we came to see that they always would.  The large pillars had to be shifted, which proved dangerous in the crumbling temple.  But we remained loyal to our task.  At the right moment we closed our eyes and awoke in the temple.

It was not the same temple. It was restored.  Monks meditated, praying for the wisdom and patience to become more than apprentices and find courage to battle the horrors that awaited outside. After we spent months presenting ourselves to the head monk and playing  the games the other monks would play with the spirits in the temple we were found worthy and given a key to the temple gates and were told to  defend the gates with all our might.

As we opened the gates we saw an incredible battle taking place.  Monks and hero's of the realms battled horrifying worm like creatures that the  Apprentices inside had warned us about.  Every so often a terrifying creature would spring to life out of the acidic blood of the creatures we killed.  And after a few days of this, we found we were not the first to find our way to this  plane of existence. And after many more days of studying the pillars and the movements of the loyal monks and the markings on the walls, it was then that we found a way to traverse into the next realm.

the true archway

Again Mask disappeared from the group's vision.

Only this time the group found themselves being folding into the fabrics of time and space. Within moments the entire group that was gathered within the temple found themselves on another plane of existence. 

Mask himself had become a bit more tangible. We must be close to his actual resting place.
'I am not sure if this will suffice your question, but '
'When you have the required components to preform the ritual come here.'
'This is where the true archway lies.'
'It doesn't look like much but if you preform the ritual correctly here you will find your path to the Nexus Library.'

The information Mask had given them had been invaluable. The entire group sat in silence as their final question had been answered. They all stared at mask in anticipation of what would happen next.

'It has been a great effort to sustain myself away from my body.'
'I must leave again but you gathered hear today are our best hope.'
'Stay vigilant and I wish to see you all again soon.'

His time on the plane had expired and Mask's form began to  deteriorate into shadows on the ground. As he faded, the group discussed what they had learned.

It would give them a new foothold and reenergize their efforts.

Psycho and his Knights returned to camp, to write down all they had seen.

Behold the virtues

Mask responded to the amazement 'I can sense you don't believe me, I will be at the High Monk.'

With that Mask vanished from the clouds.

The group ran to the monk, killing several Legandary Vesserab along the way. When the arrived they saw him. Mask stood at the High Monk still holding the four virtues.

When the group reassembled Mask knelt before The High Monk.

The monk acknowledged Mask's virtues and handed him a shiny black key.

The group had only once more question remaining, and it had better be a good one. The concern of how to reach the Nexus Library was at the tip of their tongue, but  it was important to ask the question the proper way.

The group had some more discussion before they were ready to ask their final question.

The decided the best way to the shadow realm and the nexus library was through the unbinding ritual.

Psycho asked their final question. 'Can you show us the unbinding ritual?'

Mask again chuckled at this response. 'I can not show you the ritual directly, because it is a very delicate process.' 'I can however show you where the true archway is '

second question

The answer had been simple and to the point. The translator was beyond our current ability. He would be located within the shadow realms itself.

While the book would contain valuable information it was still out of reach.

The group again huddles up and discussed the answer to their question in an attempt to focus the coming questions. It would be pertinent to not waste the remaining questions on information we could not use yet.

After discussion had slowed again it was Psycho who spoke the groups question. 'We have been able to locate two of the four virtues; Temperance and Fortitude.' 'How can we demonstrate the remaining virtues to the Head Monk.'

A quite murmur spread over the group in anticipation.

'So you want to know how you can demonstrate Wisdom and Justice to the High Monk?'

It was not only Psycho that replied to this 'Yes' 'Yep' 

'Yes' and 'Indeed' could all be heard in response to the God's question.

Mask produced two items.

Psycho was amazed at his own shortsightedness.

'I think these might work ' The group had tried similar items but stood amazed.

first question

As the group gathered closer to Mask he spoke

'I do not have much time on this plane of existence'
'I will be able answer only three questions about the temple.'

The group that had gathered around, namely Belldandy, Inigo, Psycho and Order Knights Xzar and Raistlin. The group quickly decided that they would devise the questions together  and attempt to answer some of their most difficult questions. Of all the questions that they could ask it would be difficult to boil it down to only three, but the group was quick to decide on a few.

When the group had decided the first question it was Psycho who spoke for the group.
'Okay I believe we have come to some consensus'
'Before I ask the questions I want to say Thank you for hearing our prayers.'

'The time is nearing and you are all growing wearing of the circles. I hope to bring back the hope.'

'We appreciate the help and are dedicated to freeing you from your prison and breaking the spell plague.'

'Our first question is regarding the Book of Shade Magic.'
'How do we reach the person that can translate the book?'

Mask chuckled at the question before he spoke again

'A great question, but I'm sure the answer is not what you want.'

mask appears

No sooner than Psycho had situated Hannibal's shackles he got an urgent message from his team stationed at The Shadow Temple. Raistlin contacted Psycho clearly and with a twang of surprise in his connection.

'My Lord, please come quick there is something important happening at the temple. A Ghost of Mask has appeared before  the camp and is asking for those leading the effort to rescue him.'  

'You have done well brother! I will be there ASAP.'

'I have already prepared transport for you.'

Within moments Psycho was transported to the base of The Shadow Temple. There indeed was Mask standing within the clouds, near the weeping child.

Mask was not nearly as clear as the signal Psycho had recked from Raistlin. The God was a fragment of his truepower,  still locked away within The Shadow Realm. Even in his weakened state he was a sight for sore eyes.

That meant not only was it not too late to save the gods, but also that they wanted to return.

As Psycho drew close he saw the Knights of the Order were not the only group to notice Mask's presence.

An impromptu Open Forum

The voices in my head grow and grow. Many challenges found in the temples have been overcome, but there is still the summit to be reached. The voices grow louder as more and more heroes step up to attempt the discovery of the portals and Mask's chamber.

"Perhaps it's time" Mask thought to himself, "to give them that push they need."

With a burst Mask travelled to the Weeping child located at the entrance to the Shadow Temples. Then placing his voice on the wind he muttered to the Realms of an open forum.

"In half days time I shall answer three questions total to any and all participants related to the secrets of the Shadow Temples. The information you see to overcome the challenges could be found if you ask the right questions."

OOC - In about 30 minutes, I'll answer 3 questions about anything you'd like related to the shadow temples. All are welcome to listen and join in on the RP. This is a one time happening so call your friends. I'll post an RP note follow up after the forum.

Kellistandra

There's no art on Kellistandra Delcathri.

Description

There is currently no description.

Roleplay Notes

May 2001

Krogenar

There's no art of Krogenar.

Description

Standing about 5'3" in height, this figure is draped in a plain grey cloak, patched and stained from years of use and repair. Leanly muscled forearms, deeply tanned, hang loosely at his sides. Leather armor, with bits of salvaged metal sewn into critical areas, covers his chest and legs. The leather strapped handle of a refurbished blunderbuss rifle is visible just above and behind his right shoulder. A scratched, dull sword pommel peeks out over his left shoulder, and the outline of what might be a pack is visible under the cloak. Dust caked leather boots cover and protect his upper calves, and two belts criss-cross over his waist, a loop of rope and other implements hanging from them. Woolen gloves, the fingertips cut off, protect his hands. An old, dirty ball of continual light floats over his right shoulder. A slightly deformed face, hazy with greying stubble, speaks of orcish blood.

Biography

A half-orc strider, Krogenar spent most of his youth in silence, raised by his adoptive father, an Arch-Druid in the Far North. There, he learned the basic skills of a druid, but his half-orc legs carried him away, to journey to distant lands. In his first experiences with civilization, Krogenar was caged like an animal, befriending Hringorl, his bear companion. Escaping together, Krogenar slowly learned the ways of cities and towns - finding work with The MagiTek Army, in his naiveté. Later, he understood how The Realm of Vector's army powered their war machines. And the truth sickened him. Leaving the MagiTek Army, he journeyed North again, to investigate a fragment of The Rok that crashed there. Deciding to use ransack a MagiTek weapons storehouse, in hopes of finding something useful against The Rok, the half-orc was stopped, and nearly killed. No one is sure what happened to him, but he emerged from the sea, with a strange new sense of purpose. At about that time, The Hemelia Virus rocked WestBridge, and the outlying towns of The Realms. Preaching to unlistening crowds in the Market Square of WestBridge about the power of Istishia - Krogenar had found religion. It was then that Laisha, leader of The Church of Mysteries, extended to Krogenar a place within Mystra's Church. He accepted, and from that point on, found himself grounded. Together, they unraveled the mystery of The Virus, and helped to aid in the discovery of a cure.

Roleplay Notes

May 2014
August 2002
December 2001
July 2001

The Muse (Part 5)

PAIN ripped through her right shoulder, the demons claws scratching her as it lashed out at her. Calliope twirled letting her large katana slice through the air defensively and let it hang behind her shoulder ready to strike. The shield she bore still levitated in front of her and she watched the demon blink in and out of of the shadows. And lunge at her again. Divine wrath burst from the heavens and burned the demon slamming it to the ground mid air. It screeched and dove into the shadowy alley nearby.

Waterdeep had become a nightmarish town at night. I had become the hunted. Fleeing for my life as the shadows themselves came alive to haunt me and claw at my soul. The shield closed in to her and she held the sword and sheathe as she ran waiting for the next challenge to meet her. Were they all chasing her cause she found the gnome? What other possible explanation could there be? My shoulder burned with demon fire. The simplest scratch from these creatures became the hardest of wounds to heal and she tried casting a simple healing spell as she turned the next corner.

White light flashes in the wounds and I felt relief but it was a perfect time to strike. Something large and blunt crashed down between my neck and shoulder blades and sent me sprawling to the ground. The poisoned weapon burned my skin and sent venom I wasn't able to heal coursing through my veins. The large black armor clad glowing red eye'd demon wielded a large mace laughed as he lifted the mammoth weapon. He raised it and the levitated shield rushed into his blow and was flung useless to the road next to my weapon and body. He raised the giant mace again and I heard metal against metal and a strange mechanical whirring noise and the blow that should have ended the night never came.

Struggling to my feet I saw Quyen's leg plant firmly between the demon knights breast plate and knock him backward into the side of a building. He then held up his hand and meteors flew from his hands chasing the knight down the street, exploding as they missed and erupting and causing the demon to howl in pain as they hit. The poison still burned in my veins, it was too much and I fell to the ground but before I blacked out I felt strong arms lift me from the road and begin running...

Abadoon

There's no art on Abadoon.

Description


You are suddenly blinded by a flash of light.  As the light fades, there stands a tall dark cloaked figure.  The hood of the cloak covers all of its face except two blue eyes that glow in the darkness.  The robes are blue with golden trim running all around. The man holds in his left hand a long wooden staff, in his right a sword that appears to be longer than he.  He stands as if made of stone, unmoving, and seemingly lifeless.  As he stands here, it seems death itself could do no harm.  He whispers something that is completely inaudible.  A flash of lightning suddenly shoots from his staff, striking the ground with a loud crack.  At that moment he disappears leaving behind only the memory.

Roleplay Notes

December 2002

Roleplay Log Overview

Currently 35 rolelogs since June 2012 have been archived.

December 2013

October 2013

September 2013

August 2013

June 2013

May 2013

April 2013

March 2013

January 2013

October 2012

June 2012

a prize to bring home

He ran to a large room opposite the charging golem. Upon entering he lay a thick grease at the mouth of the room, and then using a pair of dragon wings he took his position hovering above the doorway. The Golem came through the door without hesitation and slid from the entrance into the wall at the other side of the room.

The Golem was on his back flat, the blow had stunned it but a fury was building inside the golem. Psycho quickly dumped more grease over the golem. Now directly overtop the golem Psycho spoke. 'The best way to stand between a rock and a hard place is off to the side.' The golem furious thrashed as it tried to stand again and again only to fall.

The grease was now too thick the golem could not gain enough friction to thrash so it lay on the ground helpless. If there was a golem here then there must be more to the temple than he should handle alone.

Psycho with his wits back took a look around the room. He saw a ladder going up into darkness above with a partially collapsed covering. At the foot of the ladder was an unconscious hecuva. He looked hungry, yet incredibly strong.

Psycho decided to cut his adventure short and return to the Heart of the Keep while he was still ahead. The Hecuva he would bring back with him.

As Psycho clasped the shackles upon the undead he stole much of the undead's freedom. The Shackles were just the first part of the soul binding process. The deep binding came from the gauntlet, Psycho reached into the hecuva's unconscious mind and pulled forth a rough cut gem. Psycho was able to control the undead even unconscious with the gem.

The skeleton rose and began his march back to the Heart of the Order

if a golem spots run like hell

Psycho had gotten most of them on the lowest level with his Nexus Stone. The remaining liches and undead were dispatched with his holy maces. The Luminus glowed in the dark and struck the undead with such force some of the undead instantly turned to dust on the walls.

Angry spirits of the bodiless and of other foul creatures shrieked a cry of alarm. The cry made the very walls visibly shake. The dust unsettling from the walls with the sound hung in the air trying to find footing before finally floating down to rest upon the ground. With the cry also came a rumbling from the floor above. Heavy footsteps. They suggested it was no undead creature to still carry such weight.

He didn't have to consider what it could be for long before a large stone golem appeared at the end of the hallway. His size was massive as he easily filled the walkway. Psycho wondered how it could even move with its size in the small halls.

But move it did, and man that son of a bitch was fast!  The golem looked like the end of the hall was closing in on him; a solid wall of rock charging at him from the end of the hallway. Psycho did the only thing he could thing of run

out of the shadows and into the dead

When Psycho entered the temple he saw that it was quite clearly a temple belonging to the Zhentarim. The Black Cloaks hat hung from the walls and the likeness of anshoon were clear giveaways. The Temple had been abandoned.  Long ago abandoned there was a thick dust that hung on most of the stones. The doorways were however full of scrapings and a could stench that was mistakably undead. The stench was nothing like a rotting corpse, still teaming with life and smells from when it was once alive. The smell of the undead was thin and putrified it smelled like burt hair mixed with old socks.

As Psycho Turned the corner he saw a hallway full of hungry walkers accompanied with lichees. They had sensed him almost as fast as he had seen them. But he was always prepared for the undead.  Infact in recent years they had become somewhat of a fascination of his.

Psycho quickly pulled *The potion of an Angel from his bag and quaffed it. He began to sing, the voice was no longer his own but the voice of the Heavens.

'Come to me my children,
Lay your head down at last,
The days have been hard and night has come fast
Your time is undone,
Your souls have no path'

As his song finished you could literally watch the souls  rise out of the undead and lichee. It rose out from their  Rrise out of the undead and lichee. It rose out from their  bodies and began to float. The black figureless shape hung  out of the chest of the undead like a ballon tied upon their hip.

Psycho Breathed in deeply before he pulled out a Nexus Stone.  He watched as the souls floated through the air to be consumed by the dark stone.  During his monk training he had become familiar with the Nexus Stone, but he was still learning much of its uses.

step away from The Temple

After months in The Shadow Temple Psycho`s patience had been growing thin. Been growing thin. By his own admission he had killed more of these worms than the Elder Monk had led him to believe even existed. Psycho had counted his days total at 21 Legendary Veserab. Psycho told the Head Monk that it was time he travelled outside of the temple. The Elder Monk again reminded Psycho that his journey from apprentice to guardian would would succeed only when he posses the 4 virtues. He prayed to the gods to give him insight into his attaining his other virtues.

As soon as he stepped from the temple, a flood of senses returned. He received a mental note from Crovax about  a storm brewing within the Moonshae Islands. 'A stone  wall has broken open along the Moonshae seaboard you should  investigate it.' 

Psycho was ready and happy to leave the temple. The Head  monk had proven too tight lipped. On top of the Monks  and the Order Psycho also had two books he needed to concern  himself with. The Tome of Endless Pages he had given Tsaroth and now a book of Shade Magic. 

Psycho Set off from the Shadow Temple and traveled to the Moonshae Islands. He had learned much as a monk and was looking forward to putting some of it to use. By the time he approached he saw the massive storm brewing.

The Storm came on quick and strong, the sea which was normally calm and beautiful was now a dark monstrous wall of freezing waves threatening to sink any boat that would dare travel upon its hungry waves. Finding the temple wall without knowing it was there would have been very difficult.

Death

Ruthivan sat on his knees, clutching Claire's  body to his chest.  He rocked and sobbed, then growled and cursed.  He punched her dead body repeatedly, ignorant of all the eyes that watched him commit his desecration. His entire camp now stood around him, their circle excluding Mirin's form, until at last he let Claire roll from his arms onto the ground.

He was numb, he felt his soul severed.  She was dead, truly dead, and he knew it because the  bond he kept alive through his force was gone. For all that he tried to do to keep her, in the end, Claire had escaped him the only way she had. And he was the one that had set her free.

He got to his feet and stared at Mirin for a  long moment, then looked to the healer.  "Get that out of here.  Put her outside the camp." 

"Yes, Elder Ruthivan."

He looked to the faces that stared back at him with open shock and turned on his heel, leaving them behind.  He had nothing to say as his heart was crushed beneath its own weight.  The children rushed forward, but stopped at the look on his face, and Ruthivan's stared at them as alien and  apart. 

"Your mother is dead," he said, his voice steel and gravel.  They cried, they wailed, and Ruthivan walked into the bedroom he shared with Claire, shutting them out and leaving them with the help. He sat on the edge of the bed and an agonizing howl sprung from his stomach, not stopping until he had expelled every last mote of air from his lungs.  Then, Ruthivan broke down.  His sobs were heard by every esper in the camp as they filed  by the tent, and every one was a repentance for every wrong he had ever heaped upon Claire.

Last Exhale

Claire sent the boy for the wizard, and the old esper came, knowing what she wanted.  'Please,' Claire said, breathlessly.  'That's my daughter out there. I have to help, I have to stop this.' 
'Kra'ineba...' the wizard stammered. 'If  you don't help  me, she'll die, and I want no more bloodshed!'

The  old one  nodded, and Claire felt the magic that held her in the tent release.  She ran out to find a ferocious battle, one raging only because  her daughter was part Celestial and able to keep herself sharp. But her mistake was coming outside, into Mirin's view.

Mirin raised her hand and Victoria shot a blast of energy into Mirin's side. Claire rushed forward into the fray just as Ruthivan slammed his massive paw down. Claire felt every bone in her body shiver, then crack.  Pain flooded her body until she could no longer feel anything.

She lay on the ground, every short inhale sharp and stinging, until even that ceased.  Claire's last  moment, her last  vision, was Ruthivan on his knees with  his mouth moving but  no sound. She tried  to smile, but  never knew if it ever showed on her face. 

All  was a blur as her spirit recoiled from her shell and crept down into  Toril to rejoin with the heartbeat of the planet.

Torrential Downpour

The fight was more than epic, and if it weren't for the magical barrier that separated the whole camp from the outside world, any watching would have seen the sparks of energy flying.  Mirin deftly avoided the claws and fangs of the espers who had transformed into beasts, and avoided the myriad of spells sent crashing into her.  Her eyes glowed with a ferocity as she pulled from the very fabric of the weave to defeat the man who had commandeered her mother.

Then, the unthinkable.  From the inside of Ruthivan's tent came her mother, aided by an elderly esper who obviously had freed her.  Mirin lifted her hand to stop her mother, and was blind sided by a blast to her chest.  She slid on the ground as the transformed beasts surrounded her. She could hear Ruthivan's deep growling laughter, then a scream followed by the sound of bones cracking.

Mirin opened her eyes and her heart froze.  Her mother lay beside her, a crumpled heap of robes, and Ruthivan - now himself again - dropped to his knees, howling for a healer.  None of the others moved as Mirin pushed herself up, her head throbbing with a thunderous ache.  She watched the healer rush forward, sweating, panting, weaving spells that did nothing.

"She... she's..."
the old one babbled, and Ruthivan grabbed the man by his robes and snatched him to his face. "You'd better not say she's dead," Ruthivan howled in a broken voice.
"I'm... I'm sorry..."
"FIX HER!" Ruthivan shouted, then grabbed his chest.  "No, no no no..."

Mirin exhaled and dropped onto the ground at exactly the same moment that Ruthivan felt his bond with Claire shatter into nothingness.

Current Character Description - Belldandy

Bright blue eyes peek out from behind long beautiful brown hair. A blue  minds eye is set upon her forehead with matching triangles on the edge  of her cheeks. The robes she wears are a beautiful white, blue and gold. As a Goddess for the Goddess Relief Office  she has been sent from heaven to aid the pure of heart. She can transform into a beautiful angel winged goddess or appear as a mortal beauty but in both forms her intentions are to bring happiness to the world and ignite the fire within all our hearts. Be gentle with the gift you have been given, her presence is not made known to all.

"The greatness of ones sorrow when parting is the deepness of one's love, so if one fears sadness, one wouldn't be able to love anything "

Current Character Description - Hannibal

A gaunt face with sunken sockets and pallid flesh meets you, his eyes a clear and glowing ice blue.  Dark armor etched by acid and scratched by blades encases his frame, which although appearing deathly pale, is muscled and powerful.

Strapped to his back he carries a two-handed sword of black steel that appears  to steal light from its surroundings.

From his neck hangs a necklace bearing the emblem of Bane, the Black Lord.

Swirling around his wrists and ankles appear to be ethereal shackles.

Radiant Shackles

Into a staircased side chamber he continued, the golems were occupied.. for now.

Up the stairs he ran, spiraling up and up. As he reaching the top landing, he slammed through the molding door and onto the upper parapets at the front of the keep.. Blinding sunlight filled his vision, a reminder of his awakening from the vault, and as it cleared.. the smashed and melted stone of the protective wall of the keep, littered with the long-rotted corpses of the fallen soldiers.

Half of the way along the wall, a siege ladder still stood against the stones. He approached it cautiously and tested the first step, it was strong enough to bear his weight.  He began the climb down the eighty foot ladder and only twenty feet in, the stone wall shuddered and the sound he'd heard before of the golems blew through the doorway he had just come through.

He was only half way down before the golem reached the top of his ladder, and both of its powerful stone arms smashed the top of the wall clean off, raining broken stone down upon him and knocking the ladder away..

He fell.. He leapt from the ladder... He slammed into the ground and the world went dark.

When he awoke, his vision adjusted to the light once more.  This time however, it was wooden ceiling.  Turning his head to the side, he saw that he was now in a cell.  He rolled to his side, encumbered by ethereal shackles that swirled about his wrists and ankles.

He rose to his feet, looking through the bars towards a dark hallway.  Sighing heavily, he was at least glad to be out of the abandoned temple.  But where he was, he did not know.

From the hallway, the footfalls of heavy boots could be heard, and a figure began to form.  A swirl of spirits and flames encased in radiant red armor, etched with the figure of a tribal dragon with enchanted weapons at his side..

The sun was warm upon his pallid flesh as he marched..

And the shackles were not going to come off easily.

Leap of Faith

The sun was warm upon his pallid flesh as he marched..

The temple had been abandoned.  He was alone.

The black marble hallways that had once been his home were devoid of marching steps of soldiers, the vexing chants of highpriests, and the wailing screams of prisoners and sacrifices.. All that remained was the pale magical light that enchanted the stones.

A wisp of ghostly white slid from the wall and formed into a figure before him, a spirit of the ages past.. A banite priest he did not recognize, but whose robe was torn and the side of his face burned away.

"OUT! YOU FILTHY WHELP, GET OUT OF HERE!"

The floor rumbled as the spirit shrieked and rushed him, but faded into empty air.. A shower of cold air rained on his flesh as a large fist of stone smashed through the walls on either side of him.  Diving forward into a roll, the stones rained behind him and scattered over the floor.  Reaching a standing position, he turned to see stone guardians clamoring noisily from their resting places. Guardians meant to guard the temple from enemies..

They turned their large granite heads towards him and charged.. He fled. Pillared temple areas filles with rotted tapestries, meeting rooms filled with dust that swirled, and rusted iron bars of jailrooms, he ran as fast as he could and followed the path he knew by heart, even after all these years.. 

Behind him, the slamming and screeching of stone against stone.

As he turned down the hallway to one of the primary entrance chambers of the temple, he stopped dead in his tracks.. The chamber was full of the undead,  but they did not stir at his arrival.  They surely saw him, as their dead eye  sockets scanned the area lazily. Behind him, the slamming grew louder as the  golems caught up, as they rounded the corner.

He leapt into the crowd of undead, seemingly invisible, as the golems crashed  into them, flinging them left and right. The clatter of rusted helms,  breastplates, swords, and spears all rained over the crowd of baneliches and  banedead.. the former Zhentilar soldiers.

Falling From Heaven

"Goddess, Class 1, Category 2, Unlimited. You have been accused of  harboring sorrow within your heart" The voice from above echo'd within my mind and bore down on my body.

"I fell in love with a mortal." I bowed my head unable to defend my actions. Had it been so wrong? What possible harm could it cause them, it was my heart that ached for what I could no longer be a part of and for all that would never come to pass.  Rules like this weren't meant to be absolute and Sorrow like this only deepened the Love I once had.

"You are unfit to dwell in heaven.  From this day forth you shall serve as the fallen do.  You must never again try to return. Being that you are very high ranking in our order I expect to see great things from you.  Live as one of them.  Love as one of them. Feel Sorrow like one of them. Hold no grudge against us and let compassion be your guide. We have spoken. Be Gone!" Thundering in my ears the words echoed and world around me shook and  became no more than an illusion, a dream I had once had and the cool breeze from falling from such dizzying heights rushed around my body. 

In a few quick moments my life had changed so dramatically. Losing him was all I could stand to bear and it meant that I would lose everything else I had ever known.  How would I ever find my way? This existence could be so cold and yet that isn't how I feel.  I'm not scared of what's to come, I welcome it with open arms.  A simple word of magic and my fall stopped.  I looked down at the city below and smiled.  Perhaps, I'll find a way to patch up my broken heart and help others do the same in this city. Hope fooled me yet again but I flew down toward the city by the sea.

"Sadness is in every living person, but when you're living happiness is always waiting for you!"

Goddess Relief Office

Years ago, many lifetimes before ours, there were two lovers who quarreled. Their fury tore through existence burning through peoples hearts and it would come to pass that they should forever be apart yet be forced to sit side by  side.  When the dust had settled and we could finally ask the questions, we  found to know these beings only as Love and Sorrow. Forever they must be in conflict and yet they unite us all.  You cannot know one without the other and  with such love comes such sorrow.

It is for these reasons the Goddess' took pity on mortals. They saw how fragile their hearts were and swore to aid their love and carry the burden of facing  the sorrow.  Those chosen to receive their kindness would not have to carry their sorrow within their hearts alone but be able to love more bravely than any others because it would not snap back and crush their soul in sorrow. In time the Goddess' created a Relief Office that would help organize their efforts and find those worthy of that sort of love.

Sometimes though, a Goddess strays from the path of grace and holds onto  mortal emotions.  She finds the Love and Sorrow are trapped within her own heart as well.  These things make her more mortal than Goddess but these angels will fall to the very realms they influence and seek out directly all who may be worthy to receive the love of a Goddess.

"Many people may continue to feel pain and sadness. But it is the  same with us. With affection... People learn from the past, live deliberately in the present, and then continue on to a wonderful future."

Roleplay Note Overview

Currently 1116 rolenotes since March 2001 have been archived.

May 2014

February 2014

January 2014

December 2013

November 2013

October 2013

September 2013

August 2013

July 2013

June 2013

May 2013

April 2013

March 2013

February 2013

January 2013

December 2012

November 2012

October 2012

September 2012

August 2012

June 2012

May 2012

April 2012

February 2012

January 2012

December 2011

November 2011

October 2011

September 2011

March 2009

September 2007

August 2007

July 2007

June 2007

May 2007

April 2007

March 2007

February 2007

January 2007

December 2006

November 2006

December 2003

February 2003

January 2003

December 2002

November 2002

October 2002

August 2002

February 2002

January 2002

December 2001

November 2001

July 2001

May 2001

March 2001