War of the Immortals

[Ambrosious]

Barnabus sat and watched the worlds turn once more upon the wheel of time. How long he had sat like this, no one knew. His apprentice, Jax, kept his wine glass full and his stew hot. It was a thankless task, but Jax was determined to see this through to the end, just like every other task Barnabus had given him. Neither man had slept in days, but learning to overcome the body’s shortcomings was the first lesson learned in the art of mage-craft. Jax poured more spring wine into the glass sitting in front of Barnabus and started to prepare more stew. Maybe he would add some fresh zale grass this time. It was just starting to bloom, and it would add a nice peppery flavor to the venison stew. Jax wondered what great thinking was going on behind the furrowed brows of the mighty Barnabus as the stew started to come together.

“Will that boy ever stop twitting around and leave me be? How can one concentrate with all of his fussing?” was running through the mind of the mighty Barnabus. The old and powerful mage was thinking that all of his hard work as one of the creators of the Moderation had come to naught. The Moderation was an agreement forged a century ago by the warring factions of magicians, mages, wizards and warlocks. It had seen the land through many a crisis, and to have it in near shambles was more than Barnabus could bear. The younger ones among the various societies were hot heads, and did not remember the pain and suffering that centuries of war had brought to the lands, not only the mortal inhabitants, but to the immortal powers as well. Many a Demi-God had been destroyed in the wars and many a God still reeled from the spells cast during the war. Man thought God indestructible, and they are, but they could be made to feel pain. Barnabus’ own deity, Zakkur, had been dealt a mighty blow by an enemy of Barnabus, thinking that is where Barnabus drew his strength. It was with great effort that the enemy was taught the error of his thinking.

The war was coming, of that Barnabus was sure. The hotheads among them did not want to share in the distribution of power, even though their very nature made it necessary. The warlocks controlled the elementals. The magicians dealt with fates and destinies of the mortals. The wizards controlled the minds and the powers of the illusions. The mages of the world were the most and least powerful of them all, controlling a little of each of the three powers, but mastering none of them singly. The Demi-gods and Gods were the most powerful of them all, and Demi-gods were found to be mortal, and could be dealt a mortal blow, this kept them out of the earthly realm as they did not chance taking such blows often. The Gods could settle this whole thing with a few waves of their collective hands, but refused as they could only deal with the sections of society that worshipped them. Confusing? Yes. Volatile? Definitely.

Barnabus was no closer to resolving his internal conflict and decided that immobility was not helping to solve this problem. He roused himself and spoke to Jax. “Prepare our traveling satchels. It is time for action.”

“Yes sir, right away,” was all Jax said and waved the stew back to it original state of fresh vegetables and raw meat.

“Damn, boy! Now what are we going to eat? Don’t be so hasty,” Barnabus said and waved his massive hands over the meat, watching it as it turned brown and the fat started to run off and onto the counter. “We will have to eat the vegetables as is. Now go and do my bidding. Prepare for a long journey.”

Jax bowed his head and went to the back rooms of the cottage to get together all that they would need. He had no idea where they were going, and he didn’t want to ask, so he packed for warm and cold climates. He gathered together two books, one that Barnabus was writing, and one that Jax himself was studying. He brought it all together on the bed and bundled up the corners of the blanket and tied them in a knot at the center, then stuck a broom handle in the middle of the unwieldy package. Smiling to himself, Jax waved his hands and spoke the appropriate words and the package started to shrink. With each wave of his hands, the package shrank more. Jax stopped when the package was about ½ foot in diameter and the broom stick was now no bigger than a small branch from a willow. He heaved it over his shoulder and went back into the main room of the cottage to tell Barnabus they could leave.

Barnabus grunted at Jax when he entered the great room and headed for the door. He pushed it open with a broad hand and headed out into the morning air, tearing a piece of venison with his teeth as he went. He turned and handed the remaining venison to Jax and sealed the cottage with a spell. As he cast the spell of protectiveness on the cottage, something didn’t feel right. Barnabus redoubled his efforts and the spell was cast. Funny, maybe it was from sitting in one spot for days that had him off form. The two men, one mage and his apprentice, turned to leave the valley. They walked for half of a league and were hitting a good stride when they both bounced off of an invisible barrier. Both men sprawled on the grass and the wall started singing with an un-earthly voice. It was multi purpose spell, for it was designed to hold Barnabus here at his cottage, and it screamed to the caster if he tried to leave. It was a weak spell and Barnabus knew that it was easily thrown aside. The mage picked himself up and looked at the wall with great sadness. The war had begun.


[Edited by Ambrosious on 12-23-2000 at 09:15 AM]

 

[Angelus]

Deep in the confines of his labratory Cristian sat and worked on his new spell which had not been going well. As he grabbed the components that he needed he felt a shift of power around him. He looked around and thought That's odd, that's never happened before then shrugged it off as if there was nothing wrong. He walked to where his spell was slowly taking place and place some of the components into the brazier in front of it. He pointed his finger at the brazier and thought of the spell he needed which caused the components to catch on fire.

Cristian knew that something was wrong as soon as black smoke began to slowly rise from the brazier. Before he knew what was happening it began to below out of the brazier and engulf him and he found that he couldn't move. He tried to call for his apprentice but found that he couldn't so he looked into the smoke and conjured up a spell which caused the smoke to slowly disappate. He then noticed the figure standing there wearing black mages robes and a smile on his face.

"You, what are you doing here in my tower and how did you get here," Cristian said, looking at the black mage.

"Why uncle. It was fairly easy to get past your pathetic powers into your tower. Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?"

"No need nephew. I know why you are here and you can't do it; you have to remember the Moderation. There is no way that one mage can attack another, it is just not done."

The black mage stood there and shook his head, "You foolish person. Don't you know that things have changed and I can do whatever I wish to you."

The black mage conjured up a fireball and threw it at Cristian who just put up his hand and stopped it. He looked at the black mage with shock, this was not possible- why would he attack me. But before he could think of a reason another fireball flew towards his head. He raised his hand again and stopped the fireball while he conjured up another spell with his other hand and threw it at the black mage, causing him to be teleported away from the tower. Cristian thought about where he had sent his nephew and in an instant he was there, looking at the black mage who was raising both hands over his head while looking at his uncle with malice.

Before Cristian could raise a defence he was hit with a powerful force which knocked the wind from him.

 

[Ambrosious]

Barnabus stood and took stock of the situation. He would need more than what Jax had brought for travelling, if indeed this was the start of a war. Jax was outraged at the audacity shown by one of their own. Barnabus had seen much worse, and his mind ran over a course of action. First, they would need to travel a great distance in a short time, for the alarm had served its purpose in reporting his whereabouts to someone who meant him no good, he was sure. Second, he would need to gather some of the more influentil among their kind. The best time to stop the brutality was now. If it got out of hand...

Barnabus sent Jax back to the cottage for one thing, a spell book that was hundreds of years old. It was a treasured possesion and would contain a way to deal with the spell placed around his property. He also set to conjuring a carpet, one that they could travel on. A little trick he had learned in the dessert as a youth. By the time Jax had returned, Barnabus had formed a carpet of moss, and had cast the necessary spell that brought it to life. He took the book from Jax and spoke to it lovingly, if the book was in a bad mood or if Barnabus pissed it off...it would never cooperate. Fortunaltly, the book was quite happy and turned to the page that was needed, for the book could also sense magicks that were nearby. With a deep voice, Barnabus started the spell. Jax looked on with contempt. HE had studied for so long and never even got to glimpse the book. If and when the opportunity arised, the old man was going to get it, and get it good. Jax would have that book, no matter what.

 

[Angelus]

As Cristian lay on the ground and built up the power that he would need for a spell he heard his nephew boasting about how easily he would kill his uncle and thought to himself, How foolish could this youngster be, If he kills me then the Moderation would be out of balance
He tried to place that thought into the mind of his nephew but the black mage just looked at Cristian and said, "Do you think that I care uncle. I don't, I just want to destroy you and take all of your powers."
Cristian was shocked when he heard what his nephew had just said and knew then that there would be no arguing the point with him, this would be a fight to the finish. He quickly got to his feet and looked at his nephew before pointing one finger at him. He shouted out, "Althalis!" and a blue white ball of pure energy flew away from his finger towards the black mage who just stood there with a smile.

The black mage raised his hands in front of him just as the ball of energy got close to him. The ball of energy slammed into the black mage's hand and was stopped by him, shocking Cristian. Cristian's nephew looked at his uncle and said, "You are weak. There is nothing that you have that I can not block."
Cristian didn't answer him he just passed more energy into the ball which caused it to blast through the black mage's defences and into the black mage's chest.

The black mage fell to the ground, a shocked expression on his face. As soon as his body touched the ground there was a loud crack of thunder and a voice ripped into Cristian's mind, causing him to scream out in pain.
"What have you done Cristian.....What have you done!"

 

[Isolde]

Trying to Find Help

Isolde knelt by the fire pit and cursed as she tried to coax the damp wood into a warming blaze. She had given up on flint and steel and now tried to light it with a simple cantrip taught to her by her master.
Finally the wood caught and slowly burned. Unfortunatly there was a lot of smoke due to the wetness of the wood and Isolde fell back coughing and choking...her breast heaving as she tried to take fresh air into her lungs.
Sitting down and waiting for the smoke to thin out, she went over in her mind the circumstances that had brought her to this point.
She still remembered that day when she had gone in to serve her master breakfast. She had been apprenticed to Korel-the high mage of the elves-for only a short time now. He had been teaching her simple spells and cantrips and had shown satisfaction in how well she took to the spells.
She was a warrior by nature and her father was training her in the arts of warfare as she was to follow in her family's calling as had her brothers. But her mother had noticed Isolde's 'sensitivity' to things magical. Whenever ceremonies were held that were based on magic her mother would catch her almost in a trance as if the magic were being drawn through or from herself.
Finally, her mother made a decision and bade her dress in her finest attire. Confused, Isolde did as her mother asked and walked, in total confusion, to the high mage's home with her mother...never asking why-she was very respectful of her parent's wishes.
Isolde sighed at the memory. After he interview with the high mage it was apparent to him also that she had a promise of magic about her and she had not left his house with her mother but had stayed as apprentice to the mage.
That is until the fateful day that she had gone in as usual to take breakfast to her master. She had set the tray down on the table and turned to light the fire which had died down in the fireplace. This was unusual since her master usually rose before the sun and the fire was blazing.
Well, she couldnt blame him if he slept a bit late on this morning because she knew he had been up for the past four nights working on something which he had not deemed to share with his young apprentice. She did catch him muttering about "dire warnings and black times" but respectfully declined to probe further.
This morning however he had not slept in but, she was to find out, was in a deep catonic sleep that no one could wake him from. After lighting the fire, she went to wake him and found out she could not. She realized that this was not a natural sleep for she could feel the magic surrounding him the moment she touched his shoulders to shake him awake.
She recoiled at the touch. She could feel the darkness from the magic lance through her body from the short contact and she knew it was not something she could deal with on her own. So, grabbing her heavy cloak and throwing it over her shoulders, she ran all the way to the council room where the council members were meeting in special session.
Pounding on the door and pushing past the startled sevant that openened it for her, she ran and threw herself down before the council-her breath coming in pants and her story broken with sobs of despair and fear.
They had listened and then whispered among themselves. It seemed that they had been expecting an attack but not so soon. Something was happening between the mages-an upset in the balance of powers and a dark force trying to overwhelm that of the other mages. She did not understand all of what was said but one message was clear-she must find aide from one of the other powerful mages if her master was to recover from this darkness that had him in it's grip.
So she had donned her leather armor and slung her bow and quiver over her shoulders, sheathed her elvin short sword and, at the council's biding, started off to find the help she needed.
Sitting before her campfire, Isolde sighed once again. The council had not been much help in telling her exactly how to locate one of the other mages since the elves had pretty much cut themselves off from the humans due to distrust and a bit of snobbishness.
Isolde let a snort escape her. Hypocrites-noses up in the air until they find out that they need the human magic users. Oh well, it was not up to her to decide thier actions...she was doing this to save her master and nothing else.
Taking some dried beef from her pack, she sat there chewing and thinking about her next move. She needed some information that would point her to the nearest mage. She could not just wander around hoping to bump into one of them. She decided she would follow the road to the nearest human village and start asking questions. Someone somewhere had to know where one of them were.

 

[Angelus]

Cristian looked up at the sky and said, "But, my lord. I have done nothing more than kill a black mage."
"Wrong. You have done something more than kill a black mage. You have killed your own nephew and thrown the delicate balance of magic out. There is only one way that the balance has to be restored, a white mage has to die."
"No! You can not do that! Why does a white mage have to die because of my mistake!"
When there was no answer from the god Cristian continued, "If you have to destroy a white mage then kill me. I am the one that destroyed the black mage and am at fault."
The god's voice seemed to slam into his head again, "It is done mage. But I do have a gift for you- it is one that you will not want and curse me every day for it but it is the price that you have to pay for causing me to do this. The gift that I give you is that you feel the death of every white mage in the lands."
Before Cristian could speak immense pain slammed into him and threw him to the ground. He felt the pain of the white mage that had been destroyed by the gods to retain the balance and it felt as if it were himself that was dying. As soon as the pain had passed he looked up and screamed out, "Damn you! I don't want this!"
All he got was silence seconds before another voice shouted out, "Master Cristian! Please get up!"
Cristian turned and looked towards the direction of the voice to see his apprentice Ralthus running towards him. When his apprentice stopped running and was standing beside Cristian he looked at him with anxiety.
"Are you alright master. I heard the sounds of a battle going on."
Cristian was about to answer but before he could he stepped back as if hit with an energy bolt and knew that a white mage was in a battle for his life. He looked up at the sky and cursed the gods again.
"Come Ralthus. We have to get to my tower. I have to rest and then think of a way to stop this war that is obviously coming."

 

[Angelus]

As the lightning flashed through the air around the tower Garath sat on his chair, looked at everyone who was standing before and smiled. He leaned forward and looked at every face, studying them as if he could read their minds. He suddenly moved one hand forward and one of the group moved forward, towards where the dark mage sat. Garath looked at the person that he had brought forward closely and said, "Pathetic."
The person suddenly screamed out as he burst into flames and tried to move but found that it was impossible. All the while Garath watched the unfortunate person with an evil grin. As soon as the person turned into ashes which fell to the floor Garath turned to the rest of the group and said, "I have judged that you are worthy for the cause. For too long we have had to work with the pathetic good mages for the sake of the Moderation that the gods have so graciously given to us but I am sick of it. There is nothing more I would like to do than destroy every good mage- no, everyone that had a good heart and can control some aspect of magic and build a castle on their bones. I know that you feel the same but have done nothing about it so I have come to lead you."
"Why should we listen to you?" one of the mages of the group said, "we can just as easily go out by ourselves and destroy every good magic user."
Garath smiled while looking at the mage seconds before the mage flew backwards and hit a wall at the far end of the hall.
"You could all do that but then the good magic users would just band against you and where would you be. In the same predicament that you are now! What I offer you is power over these lands and then over the gods themselves, for without every person with a good soul to help them who would they turn to."
Everyone gasped at what Garath had just said. It was foolish to go against the gods and they all knew it.
"I know what you are thinking. And you are right, it would be foolish to go against them right now but after we have destroyed this Moderation then the gods would be powerless to stop us."
Everyone shouted out in agreement at the point and Garath smiled while looking up at the ceiling.

 

[Isolde]

Isolde sighed and rolled out her bedroll. She may as well try to get some sleep.She had a long journey ahead of her and she would need all the energy she could muster for what lay ahead.

Before she could lay down though, she felt a shiver run through her. It was as if an icy claw had trailed it's way up and down her spine and she felt frozen in place. Her breaths shortened and she stood panting and unable to move.

The feeling slowly ebbed and she took a deep clensing breath but something told her that there had been a shift in the balance of magic. It almost seemed like a dark presence hung over her...hungry for something that she could not put her finger on.

Laying down she found she was shivering uncontrolably and she seemed to be unable to get warm. Something was not right and it would be best for her to find one of the other mages to awaken her sleeping master as soon as she could.

She only knew one thing for certain...she was not powerful enough to fight the presence she had just felt. Forcing herself to relax, and her sword by her side, she finally fell into a light sleep.

 

[Angelus]

Cristian

As the night slowly fell over the land Cristian walked slowly over to his bed and lay down on it, not bothering to get changed. The god that had given him his gift was right, he was cursing them. He had felt the death of another white mage and cursed himself for he knew that even though he felt the mage's death there was nothing that he could have done to prevent it and that sickened him.

Cristian lay his head back and closed his eyes to go to sleep but just as sleep was coming to him so to was a voice. It suddenly filled his head with a mocking laughter.

"So, white mage- you can hear me. That is unfortunate for you as I could destroy your mind with just a thought. But I don't think that I will do that, I am hear to give you a message. The war that everyone has been dreading for so long is beginning and there is nothing that you or any pathetic good magic user can do about it."

The voice suddenly disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and Cristian's eyes suddenly opened. He knew that he had just been given an ultimatum by someone or something that was truly evil. As he tried to clear his head the door to his room opened quickly and Cristian looked to see his apprentice standing there, fear clearly showing on his face.

 

[Cryo]

A lesser white mage lay encased in a shroud of ice, partially frozen to a tree. Nearby, two of his black robed companions shared the same fate. No, they were not dead. Nore will they die by his hand. Though not directly a mage himself, he respected the venerable forces at war.

Ether was a neutral creature. Half elemental, he was inate with natural abilities and Powerful Ice magics. Now 35, he is once again called to action as the balance in the world shifts.

Ether finds his way to a tower. Hidden in the underbrush, he witnesses as a white mage in his own defence slais a black mage, than cripples over for no reason. He watched as the white mage was woken woozily by his apprentice, and taken inside. He knew that this was one of the focus points for the shift in balance, but could also sense that it was mearly a crack in the stone, that a greater force would shatter the rock.

 

[Isolde]

Isolde thrashed about in her bedroll in the grips of what seemed like a nightmare.

In this dream, she sees a dark man who is laughing an evil laugh while surveying all the lands around him. She felt that he looked upon everything as his and he made her shudder with a deep fear she had never known before.

In her mind's eye she saw a battle begin...no it was a war and one one side stood men who she somehow knew were white mages while on the other side stood those to be thier ememies. As the fighting continued she saw each white mage fall, one by one. As each one fell, the battlefield became a little darker until the whole of her mind was flooded with nothing but pitch black and her ears were filled with that evil laughter.

Isolde moaned in her sleep-her body fighting to waken from the nightmare and her hand reaching unconciously for her sword at her side but not finding it.

She turned every which way but all she could see was the blackness and all she could hear was the laughter. She felt she would go mad at any minute if she could not escape this horror that gripped her.

Suddenly the laughter stopped and she could sense a pair of eyes on her. A voice broke through the darkness and she shuddered anew as she heard the voice say,"Such a pitiful effort. There is no salvation for your master. He and all like him will fall and there is nothing you can do to stop it."

"I will not kill you, though I could with just a wave of my hand. Instead I will let you run about trying to save your master for it is amusing me. But one day I will cease to be amused by your puny efforts and then you will feel the full force of my power."

With that Isolde felt the dark power release her mind and she awoke to find herself sobbing and shaking from the force of the magic that had held her. Looking up, she saw that dawn had not yet come to the land. Getting ahold of herself, she got shakily to her feet and broke camp.

Walking down the road her mind went over what she had seen and felt and she knew the world was in trouble. Now was not the time for petty differences. She had to reach one of the white mages and warn them about what was happening and get help for her master so that he could join this fight against the dark force of her dreams.

 

[Angelus]

Garath

He sat back in his chair and laughed, a laugh that was as cold and merciless as the icy wastes to the north. He looked around the room, searching for something but when he could not see what he was looking for he shouted out, "Alic, get in here now!"

A door then appeared in one of the side walls and a strange creature walked into the room. It was obvious that he feared his master because he had seen what had happened to his former friend. His friend had dropped something that was important to the dark mage then tried to apologize but it fell on deaf ears and he was destroyed with a wave of the dark mage's hand, leaving nothing behind but a memory.

He looked up at the dark mage, "Yes my lord; you called?"
"Of course I called you idiot. Now, where is my scrying mirror?"
"I don't know my lord, I think that it is-"
"You are not here to think! You are here to do what I tell you and nothing more. Now, find my mirror, don't say another word and get out of my sight!"
Without another word the creature disappeared through the same door that he had come through which vanished behind him.

Garath sat back in his chair, he was now in a foul mood and needed something to remedy it. He stood and said one word in a language that no one had heard in more than two thousand years and with a flash of light was gone from the room.

He reappeared inside a dungeon that had mages and creatures of every kind in it and walked straight up to a elven mage, looking at him with an evil smile. The elf raised his hands, trying to bring forth a powerful spell to destroy the evil before him but found that he couldn't and looked at his hands in shock. Garath walked forward and said, "Utterly pathetic." before raising one hand.

A bolt of energy flew from his hand and struck the elf in the chest before he knew what was happening. The bolt that had struck the elf suddenly changed color and flew back towards Garath who stood there in pure bliss. When the energy had disappated a younger looking dark mage vanished from the dungeon leaving the rest of the prisoners to huddle around the husk of the elf.

 

[Ambrosious]

Drak was hanging from a tall tree by a short rope when he heard the "announcement". It was his 8,987th try at killing himself. He hated immortality. He hated life. His life had one purpose, and that was trying to find a way to end that life. Nothing had worked so far, and only a few of his attempts even hurt him. He thought that this time, he had stumbled on something that worked. He had never tried strangulation before, not with a rope anyway, because he didn't breath through his mouth or nose. In fact, he didn't breathe. He tried it though, or he couldn't honestly say that he tried everything. He swung in the wind and wondered how long this might take. He had been hanging since daybreak and was starting to get bored with it.

Drak decided to wait until night fall, just to be sure he gave it a good try, and then he would cut himself down. He wondered about the announcement and wondered if it could be true. If the Moderation was broken, maybe he COULD die. With a shrug that set his body swaying below him, he dismissed the thought. Moderation broken indeed. That must be the result of hanging by the neck for extended periods of time. It was preposterous, even absurd. Drak returned to looking at his feet while the midday sun beat upon his balding head.

 

[Angelus]

Cristian

"What, what just happened master. I had the most horrible dream, one that I couldn't wake up from no matter how hard I tried."

Cristian looked at Ralthus and said, "I think that we have just received a message from someone that wants this war to start."

"But who my lord, there is no one that would want that to happen. Anyone like that would have to be mad."

"There is one person out there and I don't think that he is mad. He is incredibly powerful, that much I am sure of and he is also totally evil. I have never felt anyone or anything that evil before and I am afraid."

Ralthus looked at Cristian in surprise, "Afraid, master. What can you be afraid of."

Cristian looked at Ralthus and said, "I am afraid to face this evil mage for I doubt that I will win."

 

[Cryo]

Something was definitely amiss on the cosmos. The very fabric of balence that held this world was being scorn, one thread at a time.

Though his abilities remained asofar unaffected, Ether himself could feel the toll that the shift in power was doing to the world. Bend on discovering what the source of this imbalence is, so he could end it, He found himself travelling the world once again in search of answers.

A few weeks ago, he had witnessed a white mage down a black mage outside his tower. The battle was short, but definitly impactfull. After the battle, for no apparent reason, the white mage keeled over in pain. His apprentice then helped the master into the tower. When Ether requested enterance, to either administer his own help, or to learn of the day's events, He was turned away by the worried apprentice. DIscoureged, he walked off to find another source of imput.

That night, he had a dream. It was the same dream as felt by every mage on this world. A message from an evil archmage fortelling their doom at his hands. For Ether however, the dream was different. It wasn't painful, or binding. He wasn't trapped in the dream like so many others. It was as if he was witnessing the dream from a safe vantage point. The evil mage who led the dream apparently did not notice, or had no power over, Ether, because there was never a notice of his existance.

The dream explained much, though not enough. He continued travelling to find more answers. His travellings took him to a unsightly sight. A man with a boored expression on his face was swinging dead from a tree. Ether wondered how a man could be lynched with a bored expression on his face, but was equally horrified. Willing the rope to freeze, it soon shattered, sending the man clattering to the ground.

"Hey, what's the big Idea? I wasn't supposed to come down untill nightfall!" the man said grumpilly, picking himself up unhurt.
Ether was abstoneshed. "Holy sweet mother of ice! your alive! But how?"
THe man gave Ether a sour look, than one of mischief. Suddenly springing to action, he charged Ether with obvious intentions of kill. Instinctively, Ether sidestepped the initial charge, slapping the mans chest in the process, freezing it all the way to the back. WHen that did not stop him, Ether created an Ice spike in his hand and hurtled it through the frozen spot on his chest.

The man looked down on his chest and then to his back, taking note of thee large glassy spike protruding from both sides. Shaking his head in dissapointment, he cast a spell to melt the spike so his chest could heal proporly. it did so in a matter of seconds.

"Hey, why didn't that kill you?" asked Ether in shock. The move has saved his life many times in attacks by bandits, and has prooven to be 100 percent lethal. "and why did you attack me?"

"Because I'm imortal, and I want to die."

 

[Isolde]

Isolde gasped and went to one knee as she suddenly felt a tear in the magic aura she was so sensitive to. It was especially strong and she felt that whatever happened was somehow connected to her.

"Dear God, no," She said as her thoughts winded their way to her master. She concentrated on the magic she had always been so aware of and gave a sigh of relief as she felt her master's aura still flowing within it. It was weak but there.

She had felt a shift in power though. A change in the balance and it scared her. She wondered if the voice and eyes in her dream belonged to whoever was responsible for this.

Catching her breath, Isolde rose and starting walking along the path again. The sense of shifting power putting speed into her steps.

 

[Isolde]

Adriana

OOC: Description: Long raven hair to her waist, dark, exotic looking skin, dark eyes that look almost black.

IC: Adriana looked out the tower window and sighed deeply. The servant girl had come and left her nightly tray of food and left long ago. She had ignored the meal and kept on watching the sunset that played just outside of her self-imposed prison.

As she watched the sunset the familiar feelings of sadness. How she would love to leave her tower and leave her confines to soar over the trees to follow wherever that sunset lead to.

As the last of the lights disappeared she sighed again and turned away into her room again. She picked up a book and tried to read. She was very learned as the village had supplied her talented tutors from the time she had been encased in these walls of stone.

Adriana found it hard to keep her mind on the pages however and soon gave up, placing the book on the table beside her bed. She rose and streatched..pacing the room a bit before sitting back down.

She shook her head and thought to herself,"You would think I would be used to this being my world by now but I still hate it." She was sitting there brooding when the door opened and in stepped her father.

She looked at him in shock and then stood up out of respect only. There was no love between her and her father and both of them knew it. She was an outcast in her family and her village and it was very unusual for him to visit her here. There must be something very important going on for him to show up here personally.

Silence streatched between them as she waited for him to speak. When he did, his voice was sharp and cold like a dead wind whistling through barren trees.

"You are needed," He said to her,"We have found a use for your 'curse'. Be ready to travel in the morning for someone will come and get you to take you to your destination."

With that he was gone, leaving her puzzled yet happy. She was going to leave this place-the one place she had known since she was a young girl. Her dreams of freedom were about to come true and she didnt really care where she was going as long as it was away from here.

Adriana almost floated around the room packing her meager items and as she did so, she let her mind wonder back to the reason she had been placed here-her 'curse'.

She had known she was different almost from the first. First of all, her coloring was different from the rest of her family and those in her village. Children would avoid her and adults whispered that she had been touched by a witch upon her birth for something her parents had supposidly done.

The rumors vexed her father who was a very proud man and very protective of his reputation. He avoided her at all cost, even when she was little and she was left to the care of her mother who could only see her through a mother's eyes. She was even snubbed by her own siblings.

Then things got worse. As a member of the village she was required to pay her respects every year to the mages that protected thier provence. On a certian day after harvest, all of the family would travel to the main city to bring offerings from thier farms or stores for the mages. This way the mages were able to spend thier energies protecting the city and surrounding villages instead of having to find a way to provide for themselves.

As each family would approach, whichever mage was in charge of that family's villiage would give them one chance to ask for a spell or potion in exchange for thier offerings. Then everyone would get together to celebrate the harvest and plenty the province had experienced that year. There was drinking and eating and exchanging of ideas among all there.

The only problem was that, every time Adriana's family would come to give thier offering and accept their gift nothing would happen. No matter what mage tried the spell, it would not work. They would have no problem with the next family and her parents noticed many sidelong glances at them and the dark child with them.

Later, whenever she would come close to the village mage or any that happened to come to visit him, the same thing would happen-they would be unable to use any of their spells. Finally the village elders came together in a councel and called for her father and her to attend.

With the councel sat a wizened mage who looked at Adriana and then took her into a separate room. Hours later, he lead the young girl out and declared that she had a natural shield against magic that prevented mages around her from using their magic. The councel bent their heads and whispered among themselves and then told her father of their decision. Either the girl was locked away where she could no longer come in contact with any mage as it was imperitive they not be hindered in thier magic or...she would die.

Adriana felt her heart drop at the statement but she knew she had no choice. Should she interfer with a mage who was trying to save a village or a farmer's crops there could be consequences for the whole province. Her father agreed and she had been placed in the tower she now inhabited to live out her lonely life. But now she was being given a chance to leave here again and her heart soared once more.

As she crawled into bed that night she found it hard to go to sleep because she was so excited for the morning's arrival but soon she and sleep found each other.

 

[Angelus]

Cristian

Cristian woke up with a start and instantly knew that something was dreadfully wrong. Something was missing, an inner voice that he heard all his life. The voice of his magic. It was the means through which he had his power and now he heard silence, terrible silence.

He quickly got to his feet and rushed up to his labrotory, hoping that he was wrong but knowing in his heart, his soul, his very being that he was right. He walked over to one of his spellbooks and put out his hand to touch it. What he got he didn't expect, the spellbook, his spellbook sent out a bolt of energy which slammed into his chest and threw him across the floor.

As he tried to get to his feet the door opened and Ralthus walked in but when he saw his master laying on the floor he rushed over.
"Master, what is the matter?"
"I fear that there is something terribly wrong. I have lost my powers."
Ralthus looked at Cristian, unable to believe what this powerful white mage had just told him.
"That is impossible," Ralthus said. "There is no way that you can lose the use of your magic. It has been with you your entire life."
Cristian began to stand but found that he couldn't so he sat back down and looked at Ralthus, "I have lost the use of my magic and it worries me; no, it scares me to death."

 

[Morgoth]

Lokken jerked up in his bed. Belial had ordered him. He would obey. Lokken grabbed his armor and weapons and charged to his sorceror's cave. The Sorceror opened a portal and Lokken jumped through, almost smashing into some kind of ice monster. "That sorceror will die someday", said Lokken to himself. "Hello", he said to the monster. "I am Lokken and I come from a different world. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Garath's castle?" he said, as the portal slammed shut.

 

[Angelus]

Garath

As Garath walked down the pathway between the trees he was hit with a sense of deep lose. At first he couldn't quite place it but then he knew and began laughing. Just then a soldier came running up to him, "Sir, there is a person outside the gates demanding to see you."

Garath looked at the soldier in amusement and said, "Demanding to see me. Does this person have a death wish."

Outside the gates of the castle stood a tall muscular man who was pounding on the great gate with his fist screaming out, "Let me in you bastards, I demand to see Garath. Now!"

 

[Morgoth]

OOC: I am going to suppose that this muscular man is Lokken

IC: When they didn't let Lokken in, he blasted a fireball, ripping the gate through. But before he entered, he casted a few spells. Firstly, his very helpful bone armor. Walls of bone circling Lokken and protecting him from melee attacks. And since he couldn't summon Thrinta, he summoned 5 undetectable Power Demons. Then, he drew out his Executioner's Sword. At his mind, he put the spell Bone Spirit into effect. This mage, if he tried to stop Lokken, would die. The Bone Spirit would drag part of his soul back to Hell, where it belonged.

 

[Angelus]

Garath

Garath stood there and watched muscular man walk into the castle with amusement clearly evident on his face. He doesn't think that he is going to be able to destroy me does he, how funny.

He walked slowly towards where the man stood, the armor swirling around him and raised one hand. A bolt of pure black energy flew from his hand and slammed into the man with a crack that sounded like thunder.

 

[Morgoth]

Lokken smashed aside the black bolt with ease. "Come, Warlord, you don't actually expect me to be as weak as one of your fools", he shouted skewering one of Garath's servants and firing the Bone Spirit. The Spirit smashed into Garath and ripped part of his soul and flew into hell with it. Immediately Lokken cast an Iron Maiden curse, one that would channel Garath's own attacks back to him.

 

[Angelus]

OOC: Morgoth, I don't want Garath to die. I want him to continue living as he is the main evil character in this and if he dies so does the thread.

 

[Morgoth]

OOC: I know. The whole point of the Iron Maiden is for the two to talk.