Arith's Adventure

The clouds darkened as the moon seemed to push the sun out of its way. I found myself alone on this exploring trip. I was going to explore the huge mine system under the dwarf kingdom, that supplies us are ore. As i followed the path to the entrance of the cave i noticed what seemed to be a huge door made of the finest steel carved of with the imprint of a dwarf women. I thought to myself what could lie behind the door. After my quick thought 2 dwarven guards approched me asking what i was here to do. Telling them of my plan they, happen to tell me of a problem that has been pestering them.

"A Maze!!" I thought to myself could there be. Understand that this was a huge network of mines, i decide to proceed on with the exploring keeping in the back of my mind about the maze. At first sight all i saw was a steep drop off into nothing but a darkness of the mines. Then a ladder caught my eye. As i made my way down the ladder, i could see hundreds of dwarfs working, mining doing what they did best. As i finished my climb down the ladder I happened to see a door that was left all by itself. Not a dwarf was in sight, I started to open it slightly, as a smell of horror and death seemed to come out from behind the door. As the door was pulled all the way open, i seen what looks to be a path made of bright. red rocks. I followed, running into few problem little snake nothing, that a dwarf miner could not handle. As i reached the end, or what looked to be a small house, under the carved of the rock arounds it.

I slowly approched with caution, for anything could happen. I opened the door, and i saw what looked like a old man. I walked in approching the old man " Sir are you ok? " The Man turned his face quickly, " Who are you and what business do you have coming into my house? " I could see that he was getting madder by the second. " you shall feel my wrath!" I withdrew my sword quickly taking up the challenge. I decide that It was not worth taking a life if, he did nothing wrong. I gental whisperd words to myself "scare" The man jumped back falling to the ground droping his blade. I asked again " Sir what are you doing here " the mans eyes showed fear, his body shaking rapidly. the words left his mouth slowly, "I was incharge of digging the mines out" I did not understand, the concept, what was he doing in the mines by himself. He contuined, " I was taken by some god, and man dressed in all blue he said that now i shall end the FLAMES mines" !Boom!. Waking in the Healing Wound Inn. "What had hit me" I yelled But the lady said, A dwarf brought you here. . . .

A formal Waiver

Alsin travelled long and far, over the Ishtar, to the lonesome Island of AccoMaxx where his twin brother had retired to. He slowly crept off his boat and walked into the Mansion. He looked around, then proceeded to his quarters on the second floor. He had never spoken of it, nor shed light of his condition to a soul, but now he could no longer keep it to himself. Years of torment ate at him bit by bit and now he lay in his bed. He thought to himself, "I accomplished so much, sought out my dreams, live and love and lost, how could such a small thing turn out to be so serious?". He took several small breaths, then sighed, and feel into a deep sleep. Only time will tell if this Fairfax legend would ever wake again......

A new Chapter

Another chapter closes, what a shame it had to end this way. Kyarn, my brother my blood my kin, I wish you the best and all the luck. Vandalandius, keep on pimping. Havok, king dragon, my ego was as great as yours, unfortunately, it was more fragile. I'm dead, I'm gone I'll see you all later. Alsin Fairfax the self proclaimed - Goblin Ruler, Pyker child, Syndicate Crimelord, Criminal Mastermind, Sexual God, and that bastard you hated but always loved. Peace the FuCk OuT!!

Life

| I opened my eyes. For the first time in many years, I was able to see. | | I blinked. Yet, I was still unable to move. I was entombed in a large | | chunk of ice, a frozen statue hidden away from the world by a think | | blanket of dead vegetation. I was alive. Thinking. Cold. I felt cold | | and unhealthy. I tried to break free from my icy prison. It took a | | couple of attempts, but somehow, I shattered it with my unforseen | | strength, or force rather. I was cold. I could not feel the warmth of | | the golden rays of the sun. I could not feel anything. I could not | | remember anything. But I do know one thing: It is not possible for me | | to be alive. Who am I? What am I? I began to walk. Where? I do not | | know. I just hoped to find warmth. I hoped to find someone to talk to. | | Someone. So, I decided to go to a city. | | | | When I reached a large city, Westbridge, I was amazed by its splendor: | | The humourous mimes performing, city guard patrolling, merchants | | enticing, and warriors bragging. I stopped in a Healing Wound Inn. | | I examined the room. Many adventurers were there healing and drinking. | | I soon noticed many eyes on me. I simply smiled. One of them came up | | to me and offered to buy me a drink. I declined his friendly gesture. | | He then offered to rent me a room, so I may have a nice rest. Even | | though I was not physically tired, I was mentally tired. I needed a | | solitary place to recollect my thoughts. I said, "Yes. I like a room, | | I am very tired." He grinned and rubbed his hands. He went to the inn- | | keeper and rented room 4 for me, or us, rather. We headed towards the | | room. He unlocked the door and opened it. I entered the room and laid | | on the bed. He also entered the room. I quickly sat up, and asked him | | to leave and for my privacy. Chuckling to himself, the adventurer came | | closer and closer. I sternly said again, "Please leave this room!" | | However, he continue to come towards me, with an awkward grin on his | | face. He said, "Now, don't you wanna play?" Then, he wrapped his arms | | around me. His skin was warm, so I did not mind. He then continued, | | "You are very cold. Do you want me to warm you up?" He took off his | | armor and various equipment, and tried to kiss me, I instictively bit | | his neck. Blood! Warm, precious blood! I kept drinking the life out of | | the unfortunate adventurer. He screamed, and screamed, but I did not | | stop feeding. I finally found the warmth I was looking for -- warmth | | from blood. For once, I was no longer cold. I felt powerful. I felt | | good. | | | | I looked in the mirror. I did not look like I have aged. My face, hair | | and physical features were that of splendid beauty. My fangs slowly | | receded. My torn clothing was blood-soaked. I stared at the mirror in | | disbelief, for I am a lich. I shall live forever draining the life of | | the living to fuel my perfect immortality. |

the awakening

The boy awoke, gasping for air. Looking around him, the room looked strange and different. He had slept for a long time. Years even. Perhaps this was the curse of all Celestials, for inactivity often brought a yawn to the child's face. Clamoring out of bed, Kyarn scanned out the window, and saw the Keep as it always was, empty and desolate yet at the same time bustling with activity. Only to the trained eye could one see the latter however. Shadows crept along the walls, and the distant sound of training priests and warriors could be heard well below his chamber, pleasing to the ears. Dressing quickly, throwing on his custom baby blue kimono and strapping on his swordbelt, he cast some protective magics and strolled slowly down towards the main hallway of the keep, allowing his childish muscles a chance to warm up. "So I'm finally back. There is much to be done around here, and I must speak to the other Strifelords. They will inform me on anything that has changed in the realms during my absence." Kyarn continued to walk, but slowed his steps as he entered the chamber. "Alia." Kyarn ran his fingers around the ring that adorned his left hand, and waved his hand in a circle before him. A scrying portal appeared, and peering intently into the image, Kyarn smiled softly as always. She was okay, and that was what mattered. He would inform her that he had returned to the land of the waking as soon as his duties were complete. For now, he would be kept busy for the days to come by resettling into the daily chores and tasks that were his responsibility as the smallest and most innocent Strifelord to complete. innocent. perhaps. but uncapable? Never. The time for the awakening slowly made it's way, the future becoming the present. All Hail Cyric. The Lord of Murder, the Prince of Lies, The Lord of Three Crowns.

Draconic Restoration Part II

The three Hawks gathered near their parents grave and Icehawk uncovered a small stone in the ground. They fored a triangle, hands outstretched to eachother palm-out. They began to chant a chant long dead to the world, a chant in a launguage long forgotten yet wholely unique. It was a chant of the Draconian Hawks. A pulse in the chant began to not only be felt in the words, but in the ground, a solid beat. The feeling grew stronger. A flicker of flame blinked in Firehawk's palm. A touch of snow began to spin around Icehawk's wrists. A crackle of electricity coursed through Thunderhawk's arms. The three chanted louder, the spell woven tight for so long began to unravel. As the ritual of restoration progressed, another voice could be heard, one so deep and unique. It spoke of the Earth and their father. Their hearts reached out for his long past. But the voice grew stronger than they had heard it before and Icehawk's eyes fluttered open at how the spell felt changed! It wasn't working! What was happening! Suddenly he felt a spasm in his back, then a tearing sensation. His hand remained outstretched as he experieced pain that which he did not expect among this ritual! Wings shot out of his back, large and draconic, and a tail spring out! Icehawk forced his eyes open and saw Firehawk experiecing his pain, agony in his eyes. But another thing was happeneing, Thunderhawk was also changing. Icehawk didn't forsee this! But as fast as the transformation has started, it was over. Icehawk wholy expected to be completely changed back to his orignal, draconic self. But the eyes of his eldest brother told him not. The three heard a voice, the same as they had heard before. "You took these forms to live safely, but you cannot return wholely to yourselves. I am sorry my children, but was has been done can not be wholy undone at your will. I-- I miss you my sons, and I wish you your desires, but you must take what you have. Be happy my sons. I love you." At these words, the three hawks collapsed. Hours later, as they awoke, they began to see what had taken place. The spell had been initiated, but was not able to be finished. The result was, as they discovered, was that Icehawk and Thunderhawk had gained a futional set of wings and tails. Strangely, they retained their human likenesses and upon closer experimentation found that by some feat of magic, the wings could retract to a much smaller size than was able to Firehawk. "Well brothers," Firehawk adressed his siblings, "What do we consider this?" Icehawk thought it over a moment and slowly replied. "I find that it was not really a failure. We have our wings and to what I can gather," ICehawk demonstrated snapping a large board as if it were nothing, "We have our strength. We simply have the cosmetic appearance of humans. This might have been a better alternative I didn't consider. Thunderhawk, I know you did not wish this, what is your take on the matter?" "My take? I came here to help you and in return I've got my stregth and my wings. I'm friggin happy and I say we not nix this and leave here." The three agreed wholy. Icehawk reached into his bag and brought out a gem-studded magical device. After hitting a few buttons, a medium-sized airship appeared right above them. Thunderhawk grumbled about how he had to walk when they could have flown here in that. Icehawk smiled benevolently and boarded his ship with his brothers as they took off into the sunset...

Draconic Restoration Part I

It was cold, and Thunderhawk was bitching. But Icehawk could care less about the cold and cared even smaller for his brother's whining. They had traveled for days to reach this area and no amount of complaining would stop Icehawk from what he wanted-- his wings. To his brothers he had briefly explained his desire but not to both at the same time. Neither Firehawk nor Thunderhawk new the other was coming. But all three brothers were neccessary for the ritual, and Icehawk would have no arguement. They arrived at a clearing in the woods where two stones were standing in the ground. A large scorch mark and the ruins of a burnt building dominated the clearing. In the middle of it all stood Firehawk, staring down at the graves, his large wings seemed to droop as his scaly form wept at the memories of long past. Icehawk suddenly realized Thunderhawk had sneaked off without his knowledge. "Greetings, brother!" Icehawk called out. "Greetings to you too, Ice. Let us do our business and leave. I-" Firehawk choked a moment on his words then regained his composure. "I... I wish to not have to revisit this past too often." Icehawk nodded at this and continued toward the graves. "One thing, brother? How are we to do this?" Firehawk asked. "Simple. We reverse what we put in place." Icehawk answered. "Doesn't that take... well..." Firehawk's eyes narrowed at the thought and he suddenly was very aware at the silence of the creatures in the area. A dark shape shot out of the woods, glinting steel, straight at Firehawk. The large draconian dodged the strike and knocked his youngest sibling to the ground and put his foot on him. "I knew it! It has to involve him!" Firehawk glared down at Thuderhawk. "Yeah and what if it does!? He's still our brother!" Icehawk spat back. "And when were you planning to tell me he was coming?" Thunder growled up at Icehawk. "You had this all planned didn't you!" Icehawk merely nodded. "Well we're here, and we know what must be done." Firehawk looked at his two long-human brothers. "I tell you I will be hapy to be a family again." Icehawk looked back. "You have no idea..."

back to basics

"Some honeymoon this is turning out to be," Menhara murmured as she pulled the hood of her cloak around her face. Fear shone in her eyes, though she fought to hide it, and she stepped out of the Yawning Portal with quick, purposeful steps. Behind her, she knew Taryn tended to Quaster's wound, and she felt a small tinge of guilt at her lack of concern for the man; her confidence in the healer's ability was strong, though, so it was merely a passing thought. She moved through the streets quickly, lost deep in thought. She cursed her ex-husband under her breath for keeping her out of the room while Berion and Taryn tended Basalt; it was a foolish thought, but she felt there might have been something she could have done. Now there was something - a demon, she wondered, or merely an angry spirit? - loose that took Basalt's body and used it to wield enormous power. She had poured a good deal of her own power into the shield, and it had only served to delay him. Finally, she reached her destination, and she stepped into the library with a silent nod to the guard. As she pulled her hood back, her fingers brushed the bump on her head where she had been hit. "I'm too old for this," she muttered to herself, the phrase having come much more frequently since her birthday. She could not, however, ignore the danger posed to her friends. She needed to study. She needed to find some way to tap into even greater powers. The library, its shelves of books far taller than she, was as familiar to the woman as her Church. Before the birth of the twins she had spent hours on end here, studying all she could, and if she had one regret about her life it was that she no longer studied. It showed in her magic as well; just as her fighting had become poor after arriving in Westbridge, her hold on her power was slipping with disuse. Lights for her children, her own flight, the occasional musical creation - all were simple tricks to her, nothing more. As she surveyed the shelves of books, however, it was these that she realized she must focus on. Years before, Trista had begun her instruction in magic by speaking on each wizard's core, their focus. She had drawn upon it in her attempt to detain Basalt. Floating from the ground without a thought, she scanned the books until finding a tome she'd passed by years before. Taking it into her hands, she nodded and returned to the ground. She would claim no mastery, but if there was one area of magic she felt she had the firmest grasp of, it was the elements. Air for her flight, water to keep her dry in the rain, fire to keep her children warm, light for so many reasonsand earth she had been dappling in with her music, though she knew this was easily her weak link. The book carefully held in her arms, she moved to a table and sat. Lighting the candle with a brush of her fingertip, she opened the tome and began to read.

Demortes' fathers death

After a debate with some local citizens in Westbridge, Demortes heads to the Backstreet Billards Healing Area, for a short get-away. As the half-orc was sitting on the couch, drinking, a weird noise came from within the room. Demortes was the only one in the room. The fanged male was wierded out a little, but thought nothing big of the sound. Another sound came from behind the bar. The sound of glass shattering on the floor behind the bar continued. Demortes raised to his feet quickly. "Who's there?" said the frightened lich. A small human figure, about six foot in height. The short hair told Demortes it was a male. "Who, or what, are you?" bellowed the defensive half-orc. "Don't you know the spirit of you own flesh and blood?" cried a deep hallow voice. "Wha what?" cried the frightened Demortes. "I am your father," cried the voice once again. "My father is dead. Killed by mothers kind." "That is what you believe. Do you know what truly happened?" said the spirit. Demortes nodded, as he was looking disappointed. "You tried fleeing, you were fleeing from those that support the Rok, you bastard. As with my mother, I will die fighting against the Rok, not fleeing like you had done." The spirit came closer to his son. "Is that what they told you?" the father said. "Here let me show you," the father said, moving faster toward his own flesh, and blood. The father wasn't walking. He was floating. The almost translucent spirit had floated through Demortes at an incredible speed that Demortes had hit his head on the end of the couch he had fallen back on. He is now laying unconscious on the floor, dreaming, dreaming of the fathers death.

Redemption

'There is no life in the void, only death...' He roamed the emptiness for many years. Rest was denied to him, the very oblivion would be preferrable to this. Yet he endured it, knowing he provoked it. He had died in battle, yes, under the flag of his Lord's ethos. Yet his faith had been shaken during the last days of his mortal life and now there was no place for him among the angels of his Lord. For some reason his spirit had been preserved in this vast and empty space of nothingness, for what purpose he knew not. Today he felt restless and agitated in mind. After many long hours of anticipation he felt himself being dragged somewhere else, by some unseen hand. --------------------------------------------------------- He was lying on a stony floor, in some familiar temple. Naked and in pain, realization found him; He was alive once again, this time in flesh and blood and not in a partial undead form. He raised his head and saw a familiar figure approaching. Xeralis Xin stood above the reborn man and said in a loud and clear voice; 'Rise now, Khalan, for your time of loneliness and punishing emptiness has ended. You have endured the judgement of our Lord and you have been found worthy of a second chance to honor Him.' Khalan stood up and his mind was in peace for the first time after many long years. 'Come now, my brother, let us depart this holy place and enter the inner compounds of His sacred Church. Let us walk together, with honor, and enter the house of Tyr.' Walking side by side, Khalan Ghundabar and Xeralis Xin left the temple.