From quinn@fazigu.org Mon Jun 05 14:40:40 2006 Return-path: Envelope-to: quinn@fazigu.org Delivery-date: Mon, 05 Jun 2006 14:40:40 -0400 Received: from yami.57thstreet.com ([216.110.12.54]) by work.fazigu.org with esmtp (Exim 4.50) id 1FnK0G-0000DS-7a for quinn@fazigu.org; Mon, 05 Jun 2006 14:40:40 -0400 Received: from moo.ghostmoo.org (yami.57thstreet.com [216.110.12.54]) by yami.57thstreet.com (8.13.1/8.13.1) with SMTP id k55IwuU5053076 for ; Mon, 5 Jun 2006 18:58:56 GMT (envelope-from quinn@fazigu.org) Message-Id: <200606051858.k55IwuU5053076@yami.57thstreet.com> Date: Mon, 5 Jun 2006 13:58:56 -0400 From: "Quinn@Ghostwheel" To: quinn@fazigu.org Subject: Ghostwheel Message(s) 321 - 329 from *storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: Ghostwheel (moo.ghostmoo.org 6969) X-Spam-Checker-Version: SpamAssassin 3.0.3 (2005-04-27) on work.fazigu.org X-Spam-Level: X-Spam-Status: No, score=-0.8 required=5.0 tests=AWL,BAYES_50 autolearn=ham version=3.0.3 Status: RO Content-Length: 13379 Lines: 286 Message 321 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 23 22:50:41 2006 EDT From: Rill (#37114) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Pyre It was a small fire, but it burned hot. Rill's magic saw to that, but as she blinked sand and ashes out of her eyes it occured to her that it might not just be the magic. A lot of hate in this little fire. A lot of pain, a lot of loss. Blood and betrayal and a young man's stolen future. Death and birth and promises unfulfilled. All those things were fueling the little blaze. The intellectual part of her, the mage-self, thought distantly that she ought to keep a cinder or two from the bonfire and test it later, see if there truly was power in this grisly fuel. But she had promised, and her better self knew it was the right promise to make. There was power enough in the world, she didn't need the kind of corrupt energy that this fire might produce. Nobody needed this, nobody could be trusted with this. Not her, and certainly not any of the folk who might find good use for it. At the thought, she sent more heat into the flames, along with a twisting vine of Air magic to keep the fire tight. To burn the lump of meat in the center until it was nothing but fine white ash and scorch marks in the sand. Hotter, hotter. Melting the sand itself now, and then setting even that alight. Nothing but slag, even ashes will burn if you get them hot enough. Vaporizing, turning into noxious gases that she whipped away on long fierce ropes of wind. Sending the very atoms of the thing out to the far corners of the earth, diffusing them as utterly as possible. When she finally turned and walked away, nothing was left but a new crater in the Outer Wastes. One more blackened hole among many. Already the sand started sifting in to the ugly scar. A few grains, a little trickle along the false obsidian. In a few weeks, a few months, it would fill in completely. The Wastes would heal themselves and nobody would ever guess what had almost been. -------------------------- Message 322 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 24 14:55:17 2006 EDT From: Nysacire (#43190) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: A new Wyrm Rider.. It had been quite some time since Nysacire was honoured with the position of Wyrm Bard of Uruken. Her time upon the mount was especially spent with conversations amongst her and a wyrm by the name of Zyr'raat. She had spent a great deal of time upon Mount Uruken, proving herself. The time had come. Nysacire and Zyr'raat stood before the Wyrms of Uruken and the Wyrm Master of Uruken, Laurent. The ceremony began to take place, one that has been done a mere few times before yet held so much power within it and even more secrets. An agreement between Nysacire and Zyr'raat was made with a 'Yes' upon behalf of both. Upon that moment in time it was then that the Lorekeeper of the Wyrms, Zyr'raat, and the Wyrm Bard of Uruken, Nysacire, were joined in a partnership. A new Wyrm Rider now stood in front of the others of the Mount, and alongside her partner. -------------------------- Message 323 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 24 19:18:49 2006 EDT From: Lilit (#37245) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: again The evening started off well enough. She could see them. Leading their newly stolen toys through the hallway and shoving them through the door to Dera's cavern. She had Laurent relaxed on the bed with smiles before leaving to see about that boy in the jail. Such a wonderful evening gone to pot. Eala stretched out on Laurents velvet sheets, still wrapped in the shirt she took right off Trae's back. She smiled to herself and listened to the harmony of all the little deceits going on around her. Could feel the weaving of them on her skin. A knock on the door and she was on her feet ready and willing. Laughing when it was the Mariner boys come to save their little priestess down the hall. She laughed and greeted them. Welcomed them to come in and play. Out in the hall she could hear the moans and screams seeping out from under the door to Dera's cavern. Everything was so perfect. So dreamy. Her hands wrapped around her expansive belly. Fully formed fetus writhing inside her. She looked at Garben and his friend Aesa. She opened her mouth to speak, and before she knew it, The apocalypse blade 'War' was hilt deep in her womb. There was struggle. There was fear and anger and a lot of commotion, but the parts that are important happened after that. Eala sat astrid Garbens knocked out body. Gaping belly wound leaking blood and tissue across the floors. Dying fetus twitching on the stones beside them. At her urging, Laurent plunged War through Garbens heart. She could feel it building in her. She looked down at this sad little boy. His little mariner soul starting to slip away. Before the eagle could find him.. before she lost her chance to make even with this theif, she opened her mouth. No. She opened what was once her mouth. Now some Wide disgusting Lamprey's maw. Sharp pointed teeth with lips too tight, jaw too wide. The strands of Garbens life tickled as they slid down her throat. As they buried into that half ripped belly. If she could have, she would have smiled. when she was done, she stood up. His corpse was already growing cold. Poor Laurent. He almost looked ill, but he reached for her anyway. What a sweet little pet. She looked over. The almost babe was still lying on the floor. half torn, now cold. She kicked it with her barefeet over towards the corpse of the former-man. "Send those to his woman. He worked hard for the second one. I think she should have it." Eala ran her hand over the already mending Gash across her belly, though it still hung disturbingly loose from her body. Later those velvets didnt feel like they should. Laurent asleep beside her brought no comfort. But they would again. She'd be damned if they're going to take away all that she worked for. -------------------------- Message 324 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Apr 29 04:55:20 2006 EDT From: Ydhana (#37181) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Psalm In the dim silence of the cavern, she read from holy texts not her own. O LORD, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave But her soul was in the grave. Deep in the still water, where sound neither travels nor dies. A scrap of another poet's words (full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes) drifted through her mind, distracting her. Her eyes skipped across the text. What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise thee? shall it declare thy truth? Sinking. She was sinking through stone and water. Into the cold slow world of the forgotten. What was there to stop her? She could sink forever, and the dust would praise her. Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled. His face covered over in white silk. Shining sapphire-spun hair gone brittle and dull. Her pearl and lapis lover with quicksilver eyes. Nothing but stone now. Water and dust. Her eyes kept returning to one line, over and over. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. Joy cometh in the morning. Joy cometh in the morning. Joy cometh... But morning is a long time coming. -------------------------- Message 325 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 30 05:14:33 2006 EDT From: Laurent (#14050) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Morning has Broken Dawn, and the sunlight glints off the leaves of the ivy that weaves up the stonework of DarkReach tower. The gargoyle homunculus still stands guard over the hidden courtyard, and the massive oak door is closed and locked tight. But something is amiss, something is different about the scene. A square of elegant cream colored vellum with the Huissier family crest embossed in the corner has been pinned to the oak door by the simple expedient of driving the tip of a plain hilted dagger through the upper righthand corner of the card and two inches into the wood. Dangling from the pommel-nut of the dagger is a long silver chain with three tiny bells chiming from the end. --------------------------------------------------- | | | D, | | | | Hope you don't mind, I've borrowed your new | | tagalong for a few days. I'll return her when | | I'm done. And I promise if I break her I'll | | replace her with another of equal or greater | | value. | | | | See you around, | | | | L | | | --------------------------------------------------- In the Wasteland, no birds sing at dawn. There is no sound to distract from the minute tintinnabulation of the silver bells swaying in the morning breeze. -------------------------- Message 326 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 30 21:28:14 2006 EDT From: Aksinya (#37211) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: One little monkey... Invisible tendrils of wind weaved themselves through the swamps of N'Orleans. The birds were within silence, leaving only the occasional sounds to echo through the swamps. Aksinya's mind was filled with thoughts, her heart within pain still from the recent death of Garben. That would not stop her studies, only increase them to keep her mind off the recent events. Each step of the boots upon the ground made a sickening noise, slurping as she pulled it from the swamp's grasp only to place it back down once again. As another boot came to sink beneath the mud a crack echos out. It was not uncommon for one to step upon a branch or a bone. Aksinya's gaze travels downwards and something catches her attention. Sticking out from the mud is a small hand, not human, for its fingers were too long. Aksinya takes a small step back, removing her boot from whatever made the cracking noise. She leans down, extending a single latex covered hand to to grasp upon the tiny skeletal hand. Her shoulder rolled back and with a gentle force she began to pull it from the mud. A disgusting sound of slurping emitted as the attachment to the hand emerged. To her surprise, the body was still in tact for the most part. It was a spider monkey, slightly rotted away. A chuckle arose from Aksinya, quite pleased with this finding. Her free hand quickly reached into the sack that was strung across her shoulder, pulling out a large jar filled with a odd coloured liquid. "Well, my little friend, you shall prove to be great use to me." A single foot slid across the ground, and she placed the jar between her knees to hold it there. Her hand undid the jar, and with delicate manuerving she placed the rotting spider monkey into the jar and closed the jar. The latex glove as quickly discarded. She removed the jar from between her knees and held it up in the dim light. "Let's go home and we shall see what we can do with you." Quite pleased with herself, she makes her way back through the swamps to the tower. -------------------------- Message 327 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 1 00:11:52 2006 EDT From: Moonheart (#20495) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: A seeker out in the cold (or Dera gets burned) Moonheart walked back into his bedchamber stripping off his clothes, "Killed two Wyrms, the rest ran." Rill helped him out of his boots. "Do you think that Dera will learn to hold her tongue or will I have to burn yet more of her flesh off?" Rill smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I doubt she'll ever stop talking back. It's not in her nature." Moonheart said, "Laurent agreed to leave the Seekers alone and my grandchildren, do you think I've meddled to much?" Rill sighed and shrugged. "I'm bad, I just want the people around me safe. So no, I don't think so. Keeping the Seekers safe is important." Moonheart said, "Daryan is on his own." Rill nodded sadly and looked down at her hands. "I know. I wish...well. It's just how it is, I guess." Moonheart said, "Melira isn't going to show, we'll have to find a new task for the raising." Rill said, "Maybe you should just give up on the group task. You've already decided on the individual tests. Are those enough?" Moonheart said, "it will have to do." -------------------------- Message 328 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 3 22:28:01 2006 EDT From: Heretic (#6143) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Tremor A powerful undersea tremor has been felt by anyone who spends anytime in or near the ocean. H -------------------------- Message 329 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 5 14:47:02 2006 EDT From: Heretic (#6143) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Tremor Another tremor has been felt undersea for those paying attention. H --------------------------