The Dormant Cell (II of II)

The pilot nodded an apology to the Captain who noted his appearance with a wrinkled nose of disgust and took his seat once again at the helm. Once again he tripped the switch he had just minutes before shut down, noting in satisfaction that this time the warning indicator did not blink as the lift engines whirred to life. Swiveling in his chair to face the command chair he nodded to the Captain. Shes up and running sir. The Pride of Torregiano is ready to depart on your command. The pilot looked hopefully up at the Captain who was leaning thoughtfully upon one arm of his chair. Shall I configure the Munchausen for home port? At a single shake of the Captains head his spirits fell slightly. As no doubt the rest of the crews would when they learned that they must continue to call the confines of their small bunks home for the time being. No. the Captain said, with another shake of his head. We are to proceed to the North Gate of Kefkaburg and hold airborne until further notice. The pilots spirits rose again ever so slightly. Then we are to finally be of use I venture to guess? The Captain scowled deeply in reproach as he straightened in his chair. We have played as large a role as any. Do not forget this. Where do you think our fleet would be without reserves had Vector decided to launch an attack? The pilot turned back to his console chagrined, as the Captain continued. Scuttlebutt has it that The Tripower leaders have enlisted a group of radicals to take a more active approach to the Vectorian scourge. The Eastern Blockade is being recalled at this very moment. We will be joining the fleet at the location I gave you. Nodding his acknowledgement, the pilot pulled gently back on a lever beside the console. Shuddering ever so slightly The Pride of Torregiano lifted from the sodden habitat that it had been lying in wait and slowly took to the skies.

The Dormant Cell (I of II)

A red light blinked steadily upon a polished control console. The pilots eyes turned lazily towards it as he sighed and flipped a large switch beside the light. A low mechanical moaning filled the cabin in testament to an engine powering down at the far end of the vessel. What is it? issued a man sitting in a raised chair amid the cabin. The pilot shook his head trusting himself to take his eyes off the light only when the blinking had ceased. Its hard to say until I go below to take a look. Amphibious lift offs can be tricky in these parts Captain. The pilot waited for the Captain to nod his permission of leave before swiveling out of his chair and swinging deftly down a laddered hatch with the experience of one who had done so countless times before. Slipping through a series of corridors and hatches, the pilot finally found himself standing in one of the many hot engine rooms that the ship housed. Inwardly the pilot cursed himself for having warmed the engines prior to final inspection as sweat began to bead on his face, soon to be rivulets which would  render his morning bath useless. He slipped past the side of the engine gritting his teeth against the intense heat radiating from it before finally spotting the red handled access panel he was looking for. Wiping away the moisture that had collected upon his brow he pulled open the panel with a grunt a sudden burst of water and muck which spewed out onto him. The pilot looked down at his now green tinged shirt and shook his head as he reached blindly into the space behind the panel, his entire arm disappearing within it. Aha he exclaimed as he withdraw his arm. He looked down at the red and green colored carcass that swung gently from the long neck that he held firmly in his grip and frowned. Swam too close did you little feller? he mused to himself as he let the half pulped corpse fall to the deck with a wet thump. The pilot slammed shut the access panel and stepped over the small body, flipping the toggle on a communications box against the bulkhead. Alls well Captain, just some of the local wildlife tangled in one of the lift engine turbines. He switched the toggle back off as he made way out of the cramped compartment and made a mental note to have one of the crewman clean the engine rooms the next time they made port.

The Good Life

The birds cry rang out across the wetlands, breaking through the cold morning air in a matter which shattered the silence that was remnant from the dark hours. The white feathers of the swan like animal were stained with the green tint of the water through which she swam as she plodded her way towards the large metallic hulk which seemed the newest addition to her habitat. Floating within the deeper ends of the small body of water which rested nearly dead center of the marshy expanse, the elegant bird called out once again as if to say "Hey! Check it out". But the birds cries were unanswered as she swam closer to the strange mass of machinery which lay dormant in the water. The bird swiftly changed course as her base animal nature of flight kicked in only to realize that the sudden movement that had triggered the reaction was nothing more than a ripple against the metal mountains reflection upon the waters surface. Cautiously the bird resumed her swim towards the metal mountain, coming close enough to it to feel the humming vibrations emanating from it as she glided gracefully alongside it. She drifted in to a large alcove within the odd landform. "Perhaps the perfect place for a nest" called yet another instinct to the bird. It was short past mating season but she could already feel the growth of new life within urging her newfound maternal impulses. She stopped to preen at her feathers, casting out some of the more unsightly ones that had been permanently stained greenish by her regular swims. A sudden and deafening roar filled the alcove, and the elegant bird flapped her wings wildly, seeking escape as something below the water gently drew her in. The roaring intensified, as did the draw from below. The bird had time for one final half cry before she was viciously sucked beneath the surface leaving no trace of her existence save a single feather which hitchhiked its way upon a sudden burst of air which carried it back outside the metal mountain.

Coming to Terms

It had been three hours and of all the boards that made up the ceiling above him, none had done anything interesting. Yet still Nespian had stared tirelessly up from the bed he lay upon, hands behind his head and mind furiously working to figure out what was going on. Nothing he had learned in his studies had prepared him for this. Nothing in the curriculum warned that this may be another elaborate training step in his path to become a full fledged Reaper. No... This was real. This girl...She was real. Funny name though. Mystrus was a disease communicated through unmentionable means by many of the more advanced societies on Gaia. He shrugged internally. Maybe her parents just didn't love her enough. This would explain why she had seemed so angry to his sudden appearance upon the crater. Still the name didn't seem to suit her well.

And why was it that the planet didn't heed his call any longer? He felt naked in the knowledge that he was powerless in a strange city with only one newfound friend to call his name. Issuing a heavy breath he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He would find his way home or the Reapers would find him... Either way. But first he would see to it personally that this girl Mystrus never had to worry about these people coming after her again. Leaving his armor on the ground beside the bed he picked up both of his blades and clipped them to his belt. As large as this city was it must have some sort of training facility. If he could no longer rely on the planet herself to back him he would have to hone his own skills.

Abducted by...Torilians?

Exhausted, he rolled over onto his back. A think layer of the lifestream still covered his person thus proving to himself that the dark summoners in the crater below were had not been a figment of his imagination. He coughed loudly as his lungs expelled the last of the green luminescent green liquid from it. *What on Gaia has happened to me* he wondered to himself. One second he had slipped off to sleep, the next he was being pulled with fanatical force through... Through what? Only to end up here...Where?

"Mutz al bihir kel raughten?" A fair voice broke through his thoughts. He wiped at his eyes attempting to remove the thin film of the lifestream that covered his lids as he felt a sudden pressure on his chest. Looking up his eyes came to focus on a beautiful young woman standing over him, her boot upon his chest. She couldn't be one of the dark agents that had tried to kidnap him could she? Deciding not to take any chances he willed the very earth to encapsulate here until he could get answers only to find Mother Gaia did not respond to his call. "Mutz - al bihir - kel - raughten?" The girl asked again in the gutteral language, her dark brown hair falling over one shoulder as she glared angrily down at him. "Where am I, who are you?" he asked, looking up curiously. "Et mornis" "Where?" The girl shoved off of him leaning down close to his face. *She could be of the Plains People* he thought, then immediately dismissed the idea. Her clothes were too nice for that, and she didn't smell the part. She issued another stream of nonsense angrily as he slowly rose to his feet, sighing. It was going to be a long day, but hopefully he had found an ally and not one of the unnatural summoners from within the crater.

Gathering

Vorcet looked down at the drawing on Elbryan's desk before him.  It had been a good idea to put his ideas into the form of a symbol.  Already several people had asked what its meaning was.  The people of the realms were used to seeing crests on peoples cloaks.  The old churches had displayed them proudly upon their clothes or armor. Seeing a new one invited questions.  Questions Vorcet was more than glad to answer. The crest consisted of a set of scales surrounded by the seven stars of Mystra's faith. On the plates of the scale were the symbols of each elemental deity evenly balanced between the sides.

Approaching Demosthenes about this new group had been easy enough.  Even through the language gap of having to use hand signals to communicate Demosthenes had displayed his understanding of this new path and had agreed to its necessity.  He had even taken to wearing the same crest on his own clothing.

Interest and one other person were however not enough to maintain a presence in the realms.  it was time to begin seeking out those who had shown interest and getting them actively involved.  To truly explain the precepts governing this new ideology, to make them understand the necessity of this duty to the world, to share with them how the mistakes of the past had cost them all so much.  After all, someone had to be prepared to sound the warning should things tip in that direction again.

The site of the biggest current imballance on the continent seemed a better place to start than any other.  Vorcet chanted the words that would whisk him away along the weave to Tim's magic shop in what had once been and was still in most people's minds, Westbridge.  He popped into existance in the back of the shop.  Tim looked up briefly. if he was surprised he showed it not at all.

"Can I help you today Vorcet?"  Asked tim in his customary blank tone. "Just passing through for now, though I may have something of a puzzle you could help me with later." responded vorcet as he remembered the strange book about the ruins of Tru he had recently laid hands on. "I do enjoy a good challenge friend.  Very well, be about your business before the guards notice you lingering." Tim said with a slight warning tone to his voice.

Vorcet simply nodded and exited the shop as inconspicuously as he could manage.  The vectorian guards were distracted by one of the street cleaners they were busily berating with insults and well placed kicks.  Vorcet made his way to the market square and the fountain.  Taking quick stock of the people milling about there was nobody of interest.

Vorcet took a table outside of the pub and ordered a glass of ale, he then settled in content to wait for one of the several people who had shown interest to show up in the square even as Demosthenes was likely now doing on the other continent.

Cheap Thrills

Wednesday, the 15th of Eleint

I've never thought to actually keep one of these. Most of what runs through my head, I wouldn't want to put into writing. Self incriminating evidence and all that. So yeah... It's great not to have to trade tobacco for food from the bottom bunk of a prison cell again. Didn't think I'd run  across Sanria again, much less in a city like Waterdeep. Didn't think I'd ever heard word from that fling I had back in the city as well.  Rumors fly that the woman killed something like ten civilians. Thank the gods her husband came home when he did, I would hate to be number eleven. Damn... And they put ME in jail?? Much as I hate to admit it, a small part of me is glad to be back home. Though I'm not quite certain what this Lifestream trip that Sanria told me the old man put me up to will entail. For now, I'm supposed to be waiting for the ex-clannie who I am to accompany, but so far nobody has come by since Sanria left.  Empty houses are about as fun as empty beds I've learned. Though one or two of the girls on the serving staff that remained behind may see to fixing the last one before the day is over. Well, enough for now. I'm not sure what sort of crap I'm supposed to put in this old thing, only that----------------------

(A long dark pen mark runs across the page)