Plans

[DoF Archive]

Date: 1/26/1999 9:02 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Deuce Mack

Wrinkled, twisted fingers stroked the old man's growing white beard for the umpteenth time, mindlessly pushed on by the dawning of magic-induced imagination. His eyes were cloudy, robes wrinkled, stained with the faint scent of sweat. The tools of his greatness sat on the table before him, their faint glow leaving him awash in the spectrum's most basic colors. The deep blends of red, blue, and green made it
difficult for any onlookers to determine the true colors of his clothes. Had he not fired all of his help (some more literally than others), perhaps there would have been onlookers to witness the now-lonely majesty of the situation, one man on the verge of his glory.

My brothers, I am free, and with you once more.

Hail, mighty Firestar! We have anxiously awaited your return, as the human named Khorien did plot it to be. With our help, of course.

Of course, dear Icedancer. Speak to me of your plans.

We have found ourselves able to influence this mage, as Icedancer did to the one named Grey Shadow. His power is suited almost perfectly to our needs.

Almost, you say? What is this flaw you have found?

His wrinkled body is weak and frail; alas, his connection with the forces which bind us is not. It is imperative that we sate his greed for our power, lest he falter and give up hope on the dreams built upon his arrogance and deceit. Yet, should he attempt to do too much with that which he is given, the body will surely be vanquished; with it, the vessel which would return us to our power. It
is a risk, but a risk which must be taken.

Indeed, Icedancer, it is so. I have felt it to be as such. It is with haste that our missing compatriots be brought back, and the final piece regained, so that we shall be whole again. No man shall again stand in our way.

There is more. Currently, a false version of yourself and Icedancer also sit within this man's possession. While mere nothings when compared to us, what little the humans know of our power has been replicated within these stones. Surprisingly, they have yet to realize after the passing of many moons that what they believe to be me, is not. Unfortunately, it will undoubtedly be a short time before
they become aware of their own foolishness. Once they do, the others shall certainly be tested as well, and our cover destroyed. It is, however, our best option for giving ourselves the time necessary to work our plans into reality.

It shall be placed at a vote. I decide, aye.

Aye.

Aye. We are one in our voice, as it should be. Let it be done, and let the bumbling humans step blindly into the path of their own demise.

[DoF Archive]

Date: 1/28/1999 1:14 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Deuce Mack

The looming shadow hovering over the desk could not reduce the shine from the stones beneath it. Fire and ice reflected off the walls as the young man stared at the sources. The note in his palm confirmed what everyone had hoped for. A small smirk curled over the left side of his face as he thought about Rask's decision to have a tournament. Poor Jesse.

After a final moment of solitude with the Outback titles, he wrapped them up again, storing the pair for safekeeping until the time for two new holders to be crowned arrived.

[DoF Archive]

Date: 2/5/1999 11:10 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Deuce Mack

"Have the other Opals tested." The words kept floating through his head. He had brushed off Matt's initial accusations of Pathfinder being a forgery, but what if he was wrong? Deuce didn't know how good the technology Matt had access to was, but he also had no idea if Khorien could have used all that magic he supposedly was good with to make a faux Opal. Neither seemed likely, nor did one stand above the
other as a possibility.

This had become his, these duels, or so he felt sometimes. It was his responsibility to make sure everything went as smoothly as possible (a difficult task at times, to be sure), and that the patrons didn't wind up cheated. It was worth looking into, but how could he trust Matt? The possibility of his receiving all five Opals was far too high. And despite the mysteries around their nature, there was probably some piece of advanced, high-tech
equipment that would allow them to be controlled.

Khorien? He was paid handsomely, but that didn't mean anything. Power beyond money was well within his grasp. So who could he turn to for help?

A flicker in the lamp light gleamed off of a glossy piece of paper, urging his eyes that way. Various numbers dotted the thin strip, but the few letters were just the thing to catch his attention.

"Yeah... I take dese ta Titan. Dey help me fo' sure. Jus' hope dey kin figga alla dis out in a week."