From: athlstan@aol.com (Athlstan)
Date: 04 Dec 1998 14:06:02 EST
The Guardian writhed in dismay, a cold luminous mist roiling in the dark of the Arena, after those who had witnessed this atrocity's end had left in the night. Through the silent hours before dawn the glowing smoke wove and pulsed, often returning to the main ring in the hall.
A voiceless murmur, a deep keening chant below the threshold of human ears, sifted dust from the rock walls and set the ring ropes swaying.
For those who might have ears of other worlds, anguished words dripped and pooled in the ancient place of duels.
"Ian... Ian... long months past did our blades cross, in tourney and well met duel in this very hall. When roused thou wert unbeatable... how is it that thou hast come to this pass?"
"Darien... appointed of mine liege... Talon of Redwin... ye who stood in Siera's place. What might or madness has overcome the leader of that force before which nations quailed?"
The force of the chanting scaled upward and the cry of tormented stone set the ring sands to shimmering.
"Iain... Lord Tynsdale... once wed of the Evenstar... even the Ward itself could not assail thee. Yet that which has accomplished this grim and fetid task may find the guardian of this power an eternal foe...."
The glowing mist drew into a tight knot of blazing white and with a shriek of ruptured granite the Arena wall split, a large crack leaping upward from the floor through the bare rock where once hung the banner of Abbemere.
At once the light vanished, plunging the hall into inky silence.
Hanging halfway out of the crevice, caught by hip and leg, the naked torso of a man slumped in silent dismay.
Lower body held fast by the grip of rock, the hung suspended, back arched, arms outstretched and chest exposed as if presenting his heart to a sacrifical knife.
The faintest glimmer of dying silver light traced eldritch runes over bead and hair... and across a curious pattern of scars arranged in a broad arc across his chest.
Then even these tiny sparks faded and he who had returned waited unconscious in the gloom.
Mayhaps before daybreak some hand would make complete his long journey from the other world to this.
Vengeance had brought him this far... and the Ward would remain unguarded until vengeance was satisfied.
Return of the Cleric
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From: auritan@aol.com (Auritan)
Date: 04 Dec 1998 15:44:15 EST
Auritan enters the Arena whistling a merry tune to himself... and stops suddenly at the top of the stairs. Something is terribly wrong. The lights are out. The place is in total darkness.
At the same moment, he feels the Stone starting to burn against his chest... His hand goes immediately to the dagger at his waist, as this Stone of Earth that he humbly wears always warns of impending harm and danger.
As the heat from the Stone gets unbearable, he pulls the necklace from inside his shirt and holds the jewel away from his body by the chain.... the emerald radiance from the Stone throwing an eerie green glow out into the vast cavern. After allowing his eyes a moment to adjust to the hazy darkness, Auritan pulls his dagger with his right hand and starts down the stairs, his other hand holding the jewel to the fore as one would a lamp, to cast its
eerie glow...
Reaching the floor of the Arena, he stares out into the semi-darkness, questing with his senses for the danger that he knows is there... the stone has never failed in its warning. With his back to the wall and the dagger ready, he slowly edges around the room.
As he moves along the wall, a strange sight comes into view. There is a man... hanging from a crevice in the wall. As Auritan gets closer, the jewel's aura brightens. Auri once more searches the Arena for signs of movement, and seeing none, he cautiously approaches the body hanging from the crevice, the dagger held ready.
The man appears dead. Noticing the way the body protrudes from the wall, Auri's first thought is that this is another of the gruesome murderous acts that have manifested themselves o'er the last several days. But wait... did he see the man's chest move? He stares intently... Yes!
"Good God! This man's alive!", he mutters as he moves forward swiftly. Tentatively, he touches the man's throat, feeling the pulse but also noticing the death-like iciness of the man's skin. Quickly, he removes his cloak and wraps it around the man's naked frame.
Simultaneously, two things happen. The Stone of Earth, with its amazing healing properties, begins to pulse with a dazzling display of the emerald light... and the door from the Tavern slams against the wall as it is thrown open.
Auritan turns toward the noise at the top of the stairs, the dagger ready...
Date: 04 Dec 1998 15:44:15 EST
Auritan enters the Arena whistling a merry tune to himself... and stops suddenly at the top of the stairs. Something is terribly wrong. The lights are out. The place is in total darkness.
At the same moment, he feels the Stone starting to burn against his chest... His hand goes immediately to the dagger at his waist, as this Stone of Earth that he humbly wears always warns of impending harm and danger.
As the heat from the Stone gets unbearable, he pulls the necklace from inside his shirt and holds the jewel away from his body by the chain.... the emerald radiance from the Stone throwing an eerie green glow out into the vast cavern. After allowing his eyes a moment to adjust to the hazy darkness, Auritan pulls his dagger with his right hand and starts down the stairs, his other hand holding the jewel to the fore as one would a lamp, to cast its
eerie glow...
Reaching the floor of the Arena, he stares out into the semi-darkness, questing with his senses for the danger that he knows is there... the stone has never failed in its warning. With his back to the wall and the dagger ready, he slowly edges around the room.
As he moves along the wall, a strange sight comes into view. There is a man... hanging from a crevice in the wall. As Auritan gets closer, the jewel's aura brightens. Auri once more searches the Arena for signs of movement, and seeing none, he cautiously approaches the body hanging from the crevice, the dagger held ready.
The man appears dead. Noticing the way the body protrudes from the wall, Auri's first thought is that this is another of the gruesome murderous acts that have manifested themselves o'er the last several days. But wait... did he see the man's chest move? He stares intently... Yes!
"Good God! This man's alive!", he mutters as he moves forward swiftly. Tentatively, he touches the man's throat, feeling the pulse but also noticing the death-like iciness of the man's skin. Quickly, he removes his cloak and wraps it around the man's naked frame.
Simultaneously, two things happen. The Stone of Earth, with its amazing healing properties, begins to pulse with a dazzling display of the emerald light... and the door from the Tavern slams against the wall as it is thrown open.
Auritan turns toward the noise at the top of the stairs, the dagger ready...
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From: jakvaltrds@aol.com (Jakvaltrds)
Date: 05 Dec 1998 03:30:07 EST
::coming to a state of lucidity, Seamus looked to his lap for the linens he had carried from the bar. Seeing them missing, his eyes raise to where the standards had been placed in shock. They were gone, the faces of the three, while etched in his mind, were no longer hung upon the pikes. The arena stood cold and silent, the eerie feeling of death permeated the chamber but there was no one to be seen.
Quietly the old Scot spoke in what was hardly and audiby whisper:: " ye ha'e gone daft Mac Donnaugh. Ye ha'e had too many glasses and yer ha'in a night mare." ::rising to see if he is even in the arena, he pauses as the sign he had read comes into view through the dim light of the arena. reading the words once more, he cringes as he realises there will be no waking from this dream. Slowly he steps toward the ancient cork, his purpose now clear he
pens a letter in bold script::
To all who read this message.
I, Seamus Mac Donnaugh do offer a reward of 25,000 GP for information leading to the whereabouts of those responsible for the killings the Laird of Tynsdale, Ian Mackenzie and Darien Redwin. Three good men, who should be here this day. Those with knowledge of the reasonings and perpetrators of the acts should contact me by via private missive or through the Duely Noted Newspaper.
::signed by::
Seamus Mac Donnaugh
::Affixed to the notice is wax imprint of the first ring denoting the authenticity::
::After tacking the note to the board, he turns and walk silently form the arena, his mind on those who were slaughtered, as well as those sacrificed for the rings::
Date: 05 Dec 1998 03:30:07 EST
::coming to a state of lucidity, Seamus looked to his lap for the linens he had carried from the bar. Seeing them missing, his eyes raise to where the standards had been placed in shock. They were gone, the faces of the three, while etched in his mind, were no longer hung upon the pikes. The arena stood cold and silent, the eerie feeling of death permeated the chamber but there was no one to be seen.
Quietly the old Scot spoke in what was hardly and audiby whisper:: " ye ha'e gone daft Mac Donnaugh. Ye ha'e had too many glasses and yer ha'in a night mare." ::rising to see if he is even in the arena, he pauses as the sign he had read comes into view through the dim light of the arena. reading the words once more, he cringes as he realises there will be no waking from this dream. Slowly he steps toward the ancient cork, his purpose now clear he
pens a letter in bold script::
To all who read this message.
I, Seamus Mac Donnaugh do offer a reward of 25,000 GP for information leading to the whereabouts of those responsible for the killings the Laird of Tynsdale, Ian Mackenzie and Darien Redwin. Three good men, who should be here this day. Those with knowledge of the reasonings and perpetrators of the acts should contact me by via private missive or through the Duely Noted Newspaper.
::signed by::
Seamus Mac Donnaugh
::Affixed to the notice is wax imprint of the first ring denoting the authenticity::
::After tacking the note to the board, he turns and walk silently form the arena, his mind on those who were slaughtered, as well as those sacrificed for the rings::
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From: jakemheart@aol.com (JakeMHeart)
Date: 05 Dec 1998 11:12:13 EST
::a slight sparkle at Seamus's note, he pauses then steps away from the post. wry grin::
o - )
o - )
-------)> Jake :)
Date: 05 Dec 1998 11:12:13 EST
::a slight sparkle at Seamus's note, he pauses then steps away from the post. wry grin::
o - )
o - )
-------)> Jake :)
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From: qnluthien@aol.com (QnLuthien)
Date: 05 Dec 1998 16:19:31 EST
Someone had done well to scrub the bloodstains from the smooth-worn floorboards. Still, the indications were there... of what had been... there. She had thought that news traveled faster in these parts. But not in this instance. No one told her what had happened. It wasn't until minutes before she was expected to refferee in the arena that by chance she learned the fate of Iain
Mackenzie and the other two, less known to her. Did no one think it
was her business..... well, perhaps it wasn't. She had not been there for him in life, of his death, for days she was oblivious...and now, barely a sign of the gore that could bring home the reality of this tragedy to her. She didn't know why or who... none had offered to tell her these things. Did anyone know?
"I don't know what to think.... " said Luthien, aloud in the empty basement.
"I don't know what to feel...'' she continued..
"I don't know what to say..." ah, wasn't that always the case between Iain and herself. She was even inclined to be mad at him. She had always gotten mad at him for reasons neither of them could really ever pinpoint.
Luthien stood over those floorboards, frozen in her indecision... frozen there in her...
.... guilt? Blast! The man was infuriating! How dare he cause her to feel.... anything!
"LUTHIEN! IS THAT ANY WAY TO THINK OF THE DEAD!?" boomed a voice from somewhere unthinkable, ....was it ammused?
The elven blood turned to ice and the pale skin glowed blue-white.
What had happened here, and why. It would drive her mad until she knew.
By the end of the day she would find Seamus's reward letter posted boldly for all to see. This would be a good place to begin..
~Luthien Tinuviel
Date: 05 Dec 1998 16:19:31 EST
Someone had done well to scrub the bloodstains from the smooth-worn floorboards. Still, the indications were there... of what had been... there. She had thought that news traveled faster in these parts. But not in this instance. No one told her what had happened. It wasn't until minutes before she was expected to refferee in the arena that by chance she learned the fate of Iain
Mackenzie and the other two, less known to her. Did no one think it
was her business..... well, perhaps it wasn't. She had not been there for him in life, of his death, for days she was oblivious...and now, barely a sign of the gore that could bring home the reality of this tragedy to her. She didn't know why or who... none had offered to tell her these things. Did anyone know?
"I don't know what to think.... " said Luthien, aloud in the empty basement.
"I don't know what to feel...'' she continued..
"I don't know what to say..." ah, wasn't that always the case between Iain and herself. She was even inclined to be mad at him. She had always gotten mad at him for reasons neither of them could really ever pinpoint.
Luthien stood over those floorboards, frozen in her indecision... frozen there in her...
.... guilt? Blast! The man was infuriating! How dare he cause her to feel.... anything!
"LUTHIEN! IS THAT ANY WAY TO THINK OF THE DEAD!?" boomed a voice from somewhere unthinkable, ....was it ammused?
The elven blood turned to ice and the pale skin glowed blue-white.
What had happened here, and why. It would drive her mad until she knew.
By the end of the day she would find Seamus's reward letter posted boldly for all to see. This would be a good place to begin..
~Luthien Tinuviel
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From: prlunicorn@aol.com (PrlUnicorn)
Date: 06 Dec 1998 04:17:31 EST
Seamus,
One of the race horses I told you about is heading to the track in a few days. He promises to do well. Any winnings from that my friend are yours to add to the reward.
Collie
Date: 06 Dec 1998 04:17:31 EST
Seamus,
One of the race horses I told you about is heading to the track in a few days. He promises to do well. Any winnings from that my friend are yours to add to the reward.
Collie
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From: athlstan@aol.com (Athlstan)
Date: 07 Dec 1998 20:12:44 EST
Power calls to power and that Stone which Auritan the Wise carried awakened an harmonic with the power that preserved the duelists in the rings. Even as he turned, dagger at the ready, a million tiny gold-white glimmers drifted up from the sand floors of each Arena ring.
The flicker of light behind him tore Auritan's attention from the open door.
The million motes had drawn together in the air in the center of the hall, forming the image of a huge gold-white wheel, slowly rotating.
One step, then a second, brought him closer to this wonder. To his astonishment, the emerald blaze of the Stone of the Earth now held in its centre another image of the great wheel, not a simple reflection in the gem's surface, but a tiny replica within the Stone itself.
Before Auritan could take a third step, either toward or away from this mystery, a tremendous corsucation of emerald and gold leapt simutaneously between the Stone and the Wheel, and betwen the Wheel and the Wall of the Arena.
Rock cracked and spat and the weight of a tremendous burden drove Auritan the Wise with a gasp to his knees.
The twin flares of power faded, leaving him kneeling, eyes spotted with afterglare.
It was then the voice spoke. Quiet, deep, curiously reflective, it sounded out of the darkness to Auritan's right, from near where the body had hung in the crevice.
"'Tis a heavy thing, aye? Fear not, the Ward carries power as well as weight."
A pause, rife with implications, stretched out in the dark.
"I would ask thy forgiveness for placing such a burden upon thy shoulders... but I also will not set aside this freedom to pursue the slaughterer of mine friends. The Stone will aid thee... and when I am able, I will be available through the mystery of the Close."
Indeed, as the voice spoke, Auritan felt a rising tide of strength, and regained his feet with surprising ease, despite the weight of the Ward. He turned to the right to see the man from the wall, wrapped in his cloak, standing a few paces away, regarding and flexing his hands.
"For the nonce, the fate of each and every who steps into these rings is in thy hand. If thou wilt see to the healing of their wounds, I will seek a sword... and determine if these hands yet know how to wield it."
Strong swift steps carried the stranger to the top of the stairs.
Words came floating down in the wake of his passage.
"Should any ask thee about the damage to the wall... say only that the cleric has returned."
Date: 07 Dec 1998 20:12:44 EST
Power calls to power and that Stone which Auritan the Wise carried awakened an harmonic with the power that preserved the duelists in the rings. Even as he turned, dagger at the ready, a million tiny gold-white glimmers drifted up from the sand floors of each Arena ring.
The flicker of light behind him tore Auritan's attention from the open door.
The million motes had drawn together in the air in the center of the hall, forming the image of a huge gold-white wheel, slowly rotating.
One step, then a second, brought him closer to this wonder. To his astonishment, the emerald blaze of the Stone of the Earth now held in its centre another image of the great wheel, not a simple reflection in the gem's surface, but a tiny replica within the Stone itself.
Before Auritan could take a third step, either toward or away from this mystery, a tremendous corsucation of emerald and gold leapt simutaneously between the Stone and the Wheel, and betwen the Wheel and the Wall of the Arena.
Rock cracked and spat and the weight of a tremendous burden drove Auritan the Wise with a gasp to his knees.
The twin flares of power faded, leaving him kneeling, eyes spotted with afterglare.
It was then the voice spoke. Quiet, deep, curiously reflective, it sounded out of the darkness to Auritan's right, from near where the body had hung in the crevice.
"'Tis a heavy thing, aye? Fear not, the Ward carries power as well as weight."
A pause, rife with implications, stretched out in the dark.
"I would ask thy forgiveness for placing such a burden upon thy shoulders... but I also will not set aside this freedom to pursue the slaughterer of mine friends. The Stone will aid thee... and when I am able, I will be available through the mystery of the Close."
Indeed, as the voice spoke, Auritan felt a rising tide of strength, and regained his feet with surprising ease, despite the weight of the Ward. He turned to the right to see the man from the wall, wrapped in his cloak, standing a few paces away, regarding and flexing his hands.
"For the nonce, the fate of each and every who steps into these rings is in thy hand. If thou wilt see to the healing of their wounds, I will seek a sword... and determine if these hands yet know how to wield it."
Strong swift steps carried the stranger to the top of the stairs.
Words came floating down in the wake of his passage.
"Should any ask thee about the damage to the wall... say only that the cleric has returned."
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From: auritan@aol.com (Auritan)
Date: 08 Dec 1998 00:03:57 EST
...say only that the cleric has returned."
Auritan watched bemutedly as the stranger climbed the stairs and disappeared.
As the man walked out the door, Auri turned back to the Wheel, floating and turning there in the center of the hall. All around him shewn the emerald radiance of the Stone. As he studied the intricate detail of the Wheel, it began to dissolve before his eyes. In moments, the gold-white glimmers separated and disappeared back into the sand floors of the Rings, leaving only the emerald aura of the Stone illuminating the Arena.
Looking into the Stone, he was transfixed momentarily by the sight he beheld. For there in the center of the Jewel, as if submerged in a pool of brilliant green liquid, was an image of the Wheel. And it was rotating slowly! The letter 'C' etched into the surface of the Stone was only faintly noticable now.
Shaking his head, trying to absorb all that had happened in the last few minutes since he had entered the Arena, he was overwhelmed. Unceremoniously, he slowly dropped to his knees, then sat back and down on his heals. "Hmmm...", he muttered to himself gazing into the stone, "I wonder what Cor would say if he could see this!"
He could feel the Powers of the Ward and the Stone coursing through his being, the ebbs and flows, the mixing of the two sources of Healing, warmly comforting.
Auritan was no stranger to Power. The feeling took him back in time to an age and a world so far away and so long ago... He closed his eyes, sitting on the floor, and remembered a lost world and the Power of Light that he had wielded so very, very long ago.
The memories, pent up for so long and now released, came flooding back. The years of dedication in his skirmishes with the Dark Forces... leading up to the Great War... the Battle to end all! ...that battle, that Final Battle. And he had somehow been chosen as the Champion of his race... He had been so afraid as he found himself face to face with the Lord of Evil. But he had pushed his fear away and had stood tall in that fight! It was
terrible; it was horrible; it was... death!
Rocking back and forth as he sat on the floor, he winced at the memory of the pain - the terrible pain - as the Dark Lord's Blade of Night had penetrated his chest, sucking the life from his body. And still with his eyes closed, he inhaled sharply, then exhaled, remembering the final moments of that struggle, as he had pushed himself further forward onto that horrendous blade and had somehow managed to return the blow in kind... and the tears
welled up in his eyes as he remembered all too vividly his death.
He sat on the floor of the Arena with his eyes closed, rocking and keening softly to himself, as he remembered it all. After an interminable period, he opened his eyes and looked around. The lights were back on in the Arena. The glow from the jewel had died. Absentmindedly, he put the jewel back inside his shirt, and felt it pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. He felt the Ward... its presence mingled warmly and comforting within his being.
With a deep breath, he arose. He felt drained, but at the same time, renewed. He felt calm, and an inner peace that he had not known since his arrival in Rhydin. He nodded to himself at the feeling and smiled. He felt at home.
"Hmmm. Bearer of the Stone of Earth, and now Guardian of the Ward of Gondor," he muttered. "And just think, the only excitement in my life a short while ago was a measly fight with the Prince of Darkness! Wouldn't -he- be surprised if he could see me now!"
"Now what was it that guy said? Heal the duelers? Guard the Ward? Temporary? Hmmm..."
Chuckling, he made his way over to the stairs and up to the door... and found that he could not pass the threshold. Shaking his head, he thought to himself "Yep, shoulda known." Returning down the stairs, still smiling, he went into the store-room searching for the cot that he knew was there. Thoroughly exhausted, he lay down and slept.
Date: 08 Dec 1998 00:03:57 EST
...say only that the cleric has returned."
Auritan watched bemutedly as the stranger climbed the stairs and disappeared.
As the man walked out the door, Auri turned back to the Wheel, floating and turning there in the center of the hall. All around him shewn the emerald radiance of the Stone. As he studied the intricate detail of the Wheel, it began to dissolve before his eyes. In moments, the gold-white glimmers separated and disappeared back into the sand floors of the Rings, leaving only the emerald aura of the Stone illuminating the Arena.
Looking into the Stone, he was transfixed momentarily by the sight he beheld. For there in the center of the Jewel, as if submerged in a pool of brilliant green liquid, was an image of the Wheel. And it was rotating slowly! The letter 'C' etched into the surface of the Stone was only faintly noticable now.
Shaking his head, trying to absorb all that had happened in the last few minutes since he had entered the Arena, he was overwhelmed. Unceremoniously, he slowly dropped to his knees, then sat back and down on his heals. "Hmmm...", he muttered to himself gazing into the stone, "I wonder what Cor would say if he could see this!"
He could feel the Powers of the Ward and the Stone coursing through his being, the ebbs and flows, the mixing of the two sources of Healing, warmly comforting.
Auritan was no stranger to Power. The feeling took him back in time to an age and a world so far away and so long ago... He closed his eyes, sitting on the floor, and remembered a lost world and the Power of Light that he had wielded so very, very long ago.
The memories, pent up for so long and now released, came flooding back. The years of dedication in his skirmishes with the Dark Forces... leading up to the Great War... the Battle to end all! ...that battle, that Final Battle. And he had somehow been chosen as the Champion of his race... He had been so afraid as he found himself face to face with the Lord of Evil. But he had pushed his fear away and had stood tall in that fight! It was
terrible; it was horrible; it was... death!
Rocking back and forth as he sat on the floor, he winced at the memory of the pain - the terrible pain - as the Dark Lord's Blade of Night had penetrated his chest, sucking the life from his body. And still with his eyes closed, he inhaled sharply, then exhaled, remembering the final moments of that struggle, as he had pushed himself further forward onto that horrendous blade and had somehow managed to return the blow in kind... and the tears
welled up in his eyes as he remembered all too vividly his death.
He sat on the floor of the Arena with his eyes closed, rocking and keening softly to himself, as he remembered it all. After an interminable period, he opened his eyes and looked around. The lights were back on in the Arena. The glow from the jewel had died. Absentmindedly, he put the jewel back inside his shirt, and felt it pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. He felt the Ward... its presence mingled warmly and comforting within his being.
With a deep breath, he arose. He felt drained, but at the same time, renewed. He felt calm, and an inner peace that he had not known since his arrival in Rhydin. He nodded to himself at the feeling and smiled. He felt at home.
"Hmmm. Bearer of the Stone of Earth, and now Guardian of the Ward of Gondor," he muttered. "And just think, the only excitement in my life a short while ago was a measly fight with the Prince of Darkness! Wouldn't -he- be surprised if he could see me now!"
"Now what was it that guy said? Heal the duelers? Guard the Ward? Temporary? Hmmm..."
Chuckling, he made his way over to the stairs and up to the door... and found that he could not pass the threshold. Shaking his head, he thought to himself "Yep, shoulda known." Returning down the stairs, still smiling, he went into the store-room searching for the cot that he knew was there. Thoroughly exhausted, he lay down and slept.
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From: auritan@aol.com (Auritan)
Date: 08 Dec 1998 04:48:41 EST
After a very long and restful sleep, Auritan awoke to the sound of folks talking in the Arena. Sleepily, he arose and went out to discover Lady Arane talking to Harris about being entered in some contest. He fetched some coffee and joined in the conversation, and they were soon joined by several others. He had a lively, although whispered, conversation with
the lady Rowan about the pros and cons of beauty pageants.
After a while, everyone retired and so did Auri. He was still tired from his ordeal with the Wheel and the Stone, and the man that Arane had said fit the description of Athlstan. But now, after some rest, Auri was thinking a little bit clearer. On his way to the pallet in the store room, he remembered something... a 'method' that he had used as a warrior long ago. Grinning to himself, he set it up... then went back to bed and drifted off to
sleep again.
Date: 08 Dec 1998 04:48:41 EST
After a very long and restful sleep, Auritan awoke to the sound of folks talking in the Arena. Sleepily, he arose and went out to discover Lady Arane talking to Harris about being entered in some contest. He fetched some coffee and joined in the conversation, and they were soon joined by several others. He had a lively, although whispered, conversation with
the lady Rowan about the pros and cons of beauty pageants.
After a while, everyone retired and so did Auri. He was still tired from his ordeal with the Wheel and the Stone, and the man that Arane had said fit the description of Athlstan. But now, after some rest, Auri was thinking a little bit clearer. On his way to the pallet in the store room, he remembered something... a 'method' that he had used as a warrior long ago. Grinning to himself, he set it up... then went back to bed and drifted off to
sleep again.
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From: auritan@aol.com (Auritan)
Date: 10 Dec 1998 19:23:40 EST
Auritan learned quickly about the Ward of Gondar. He was fortunate that the first duelists he encountered after his ordeal were just practicing. He sat and joked with them as the first two entered the ring. He felt a strange "sensation" as they entered.
He watched and waited apprehensively, not knowing what to expect as the duelers squared off and began their opening moves. The first two rounds were defensive plays by both duelers, and he started to relax a little as he watched them. The third round was when it happened... a cut met its mark and a wound was opened... and Auri almost came out of his seat! The feeling was intense, sharp, and luckily, very brief. It didn't really hurt. It was
just uncomfortable.
Immediately, he felt the Stone pulse, softly, against his chest. Then came something else... a soothing... he recognized the spell of healing immediately. But it wasn't from the Stone as he was accustomed to. This was different. "Hmmm", he thought, smiling to himself, "this is neat."
Moments later came the taste. Now that was strange. Was this his imagination? Or real?. He swallowed a few times. It was real. How could he describe it? It was familiar in a way, but he couldn't quite place it. Sort of like putting one of the copper coins in his mouth, but not quite the same. Well, until he found a better description, he decided he would call it 'coppery'.
As the duel continued, he got used to the intense little 'jabs' followed by the pulse from the Stone, then the soothing. He even started to get used to that coppery taste in his mouth. That taste really bothered him. It was so familiar...
He brought the Stone out from beneath his shirt and looked into its emerald depths. The image of the Wheel was still turning inside. He replaced the jewel within his tunic, and closed his eyes, turning his mind's eye inward to explore the new sensations.
He saw (felt perhaps) the complex interlinking of spells the he instinctively knew to be the Ward. He identified the entwining presence of the Stone within the Ward... or was it the Ward within the Stone? He would have to study that in more detail later, but for now he searched intently... and at last found that link which connected him to the Ward. He nodded unconciously to himself as he traced the connection from his being to the Ward, noting
with curiosity how the link ran through the Stone.
Maintaining his inward focus, he slowly opened his eyes and watched the duelists playing out their battle in the ring. He studied the interactions between the Stone, the Ward, and himself, as blade rent flesh, and blood flowed. He tasted the blood, and felt the soothing as the healing spell went forth to the injured party. What?? His focus broke abruptly as the realization hit him. Blood! That's what it was! Blood... the taste in his mouth
was blood. Now, he knew that was ridiculous, but still... He thought about it a moment longer, the coppery, bloody taste in his mouth.
With that mystery finally resolved, he turned once more inward, watching the interaction with a greater understanding. He finally began to grasp an overview of how the Ward functioned. There was a link from the Ward to each person in the Arena. As an injury occurred, it was sensed by the Ward and passed to him... but the Stone was in the path and was somehow activated, returning ..something.. (a command perhaps?) to the Ward, which triggered the
spells of healing back to the individual. He still didn't understand about the taste in his mouth. He would have to study more.
(tbc)
Date: 10 Dec 1998 19:23:40 EST
Auritan learned quickly about the Ward of Gondar. He was fortunate that the first duelists he encountered after his ordeal were just practicing. He sat and joked with them as the first two entered the ring. He felt a strange "sensation" as they entered.
He watched and waited apprehensively, not knowing what to expect as the duelers squared off and began their opening moves. The first two rounds were defensive plays by both duelers, and he started to relax a little as he watched them. The third round was when it happened... a cut met its mark and a wound was opened... and Auri almost came out of his seat! The feeling was intense, sharp, and luckily, very brief. It didn't really hurt. It was
just uncomfortable.
Immediately, he felt the Stone pulse, softly, against his chest. Then came something else... a soothing... he recognized the spell of healing immediately. But it wasn't from the Stone as he was accustomed to. This was different. "Hmmm", he thought, smiling to himself, "this is neat."
Moments later came the taste. Now that was strange. Was this his imagination? Or real?. He swallowed a few times. It was real. How could he describe it? It was familiar in a way, but he couldn't quite place it. Sort of like putting one of the copper coins in his mouth, but not quite the same. Well, until he found a better description, he decided he would call it 'coppery'.
As the duel continued, he got used to the intense little 'jabs' followed by the pulse from the Stone, then the soothing. He even started to get used to that coppery taste in his mouth. That taste really bothered him. It was so familiar...
He brought the Stone out from beneath his shirt and looked into its emerald depths. The image of the Wheel was still turning inside. He replaced the jewel within his tunic, and closed his eyes, turning his mind's eye inward to explore the new sensations.
He saw (felt perhaps) the complex interlinking of spells the he instinctively knew to be the Ward. He identified the entwining presence of the Stone within the Ward... or was it the Ward within the Stone? He would have to study that in more detail later, but for now he searched intently... and at last found that link which connected him to the Ward. He nodded unconciously to himself as he traced the connection from his being to the Ward, noting
with curiosity how the link ran through the Stone.
Maintaining his inward focus, he slowly opened his eyes and watched the duelists playing out their battle in the ring. He studied the interactions between the Stone, the Ward, and himself, as blade rent flesh, and blood flowed. He tasted the blood, and felt the soothing as the healing spell went forth to the injured party. What?? His focus broke abruptly as the realization hit him. Blood! That's what it was! Blood... the taste in his mouth
was blood. Now, he knew that was ridiculous, but still... He thought about it a moment longer, the coppery, bloody taste in his mouth.
With that mystery finally resolved, he turned once more inward, watching the interaction with a greater understanding. He finally began to grasp an overview of how the Ward functioned. There was a link from the Ward to each person in the Arena. As an injury occurred, it was sensed by the Ward and passed to him... but the Stone was in the path and was somehow activated, returning ..something.. (a command perhaps?) to the Ward, which triggered the
spells of healing back to the individual. He still didn't understand about the taste in his mouth. He would have to study more.
(tbc)
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From: jonalyn@aol.com (Jonalyn)
Date: 10 Dec 1998 20:27:35 EST
As was her wont, the commoner made her way down the back stairs in the early hours. She felt the subtle alteration in the ley lines as her gaze rested on the silent, empty rings. There, the slight, subtle, though discernible change in the hues and shadings of the ley lines danced before her eyes. She had witnessed that long ago eve, the bloody battle, the sacrifices of the lives which had preserved the fading Wards of Gondar. The
Entity vanquished...the ward yet remained, subtly altered then, and now, yet again, still there...still...there.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she paused, then slowly made her way along the length of the south banner wall. The flickering torches along the walls flared briefly. An errant zephyr wafted through the vast labyrinthine caverns below the ancient Red Dragon Inn, torches flaring suddenly, a dance of light against slate grey and ebony shadows, a susurration as the heavy banners seemed for a moment to strain at their mountings of their own
volition, a dance macabre, then...the soft whisper as the banners settled against the stone, then the silence. A small frown creased her forehead as she spied a ladder angled against the stones. "Och, th' lads be gittin' careless, leavin' such 'bout."
For a moment, her breath caught in her throat. There, where once had been naught but the stark, bleak expanse of stone, a banner hung from the support beams. She stepped slowly closer. In the torch light she caught the distinctive weft and weave of samite clothe, the subtle shadings of white and viridian, and there? What was that which caught her eye? A slight lift of a brow, she canted her head slightly, her gaze resting on the golden hued
threads in the lower corner. A bare whisper escaped her in the stillness, "Three crowns 'o gold, three wee bonny bairns, three lives gone a glimmerin'. Th' wheel turns agin." Her sea blue eyes took on a distant look, "In death tis sorrow, in sorrow tis pain, in pain tis life, in life tis 'ope, in 'ope tis strength."
She stepped back, casting a glance toward Aloysius and Hubie as they wandered out of the kitchen, "Tis which 'o thee didst leave th' ladder?" Both boys gaped at her, stammering denials. Her lips curved into a small smile, "Och, well, jus' see tis stored away, aye? An' set up a row 'o pewter mugs, empty if ye wi' 'pon th' bar", she gave the kids a knowing wink. The boys exchanged impish grins as they set to work. She glanced once more toward the
silent rings, then vanished in a soft azure shimmer.
Date: 10 Dec 1998 20:27:35 EST
As was her wont, the commoner made her way down the back stairs in the early hours. She felt the subtle alteration in the ley lines as her gaze rested on the silent, empty rings. There, the slight, subtle, though discernible change in the hues and shadings of the ley lines danced before her eyes. She had witnessed that long ago eve, the bloody battle, the sacrifices of the lives which had preserved the fading Wards of Gondar. The
Entity vanquished...the ward yet remained, subtly altered then, and now, yet again, still there...still...there.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she paused, then slowly made her way along the length of the south banner wall. The flickering torches along the walls flared briefly. An errant zephyr wafted through the vast labyrinthine caverns below the ancient Red Dragon Inn, torches flaring suddenly, a dance of light against slate grey and ebony shadows, a susurration as the heavy banners seemed for a moment to strain at their mountings of their own
volition, a dance macabre, then...the soft whisper as the banners settled against the stone, then the silence. A small frown creased her forehead as she spied a ladder angled against the stones. "Och, th' lads be gittin' careless, leavin' such 'bout."
For a moment, her breath caught in her throat. There, where once had been naught but the stark, bleak expanse of stone, a banner hung from the support beams. She stepped slowly closer. In the torch light she caught the distinctive weft and weave of samite clothe, the subtle shadings of white and viridian, and there? What was that which caught her eye? A slight lift of a brow, she canted her head slightly, her gaze resting on the golden hued
threads in the lower corner. A bare whisper escaped her in the stillness, "Three crowns 'o gold, three wee bonny bairns, three lives gone a glimmerin'. Th' wheel turns agin." Her sea blue eyes took on a distant look, "In death tis sorrow, in sorrow tis pain, in pain tis life, in life tis 'ope, in 'ope tis strength."
She stepped back, casting a glance toward Aloysius and Hubie as they wandered out of the kitchen, "Tis which 'o thee didst leave th' ladder?" Both boys gaped at her, stammering denials. Her lips curved into a small smile, "Och, well, jus' see tis stored away, aye? An' set up a row 'o pewter mugs, empty if ye wi' 'pon th' bar", she gave the kids a knowing wink. The boys exchanged impish grins as they set to work. She glanced once more toward the
silent rings, then vanished in a soft azure shimmer.
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From: auritan@aol.com (Auritan)
Date: 10 Dec 1998 23:01:36 EST
The first evening was rough. He had known it would be, but nothing could have prepared him for this assault. It's not that it hurt or anything; not really. It was just so terribly uncomfortable... and that taste... ::he shivered uncontrollably at the thought:: sometimes almost sweet, most-times sour, and on some occasions, so very bitter!
He stayed hidden that first night. The sensations were so overpowering that he could not maintain his focus at all. It was difficult even to walk. He lay on the cot, waiting -no, not waiting, rather wishing, yes, wishing for it to end. But the duels went on and on. After a time, he dozed...
...and awoke to a welcome silence from within.
Cautiously, he explored the Arena. No one there. He didn't know if it were day or night. Walking silently throught the vacant cavern, he chuckled to himself as he spied the old sundial propped in the corner near the bar, remembering the dumb jokes he used to make about it being broken.
He moved on quietly into the Annex. The only folks here were Hubie and Al, cleaning up after the evenings duels. He waved at them, smiling. "Good Hubie! Doth thou know the hour?" he asked. Hubie ne'er missed a swipe on that table he were cleanin'. He just looked up grinning and shook his head.
Well, it had to still be night, with them still here. Gods, but his head hurt! He had learned much in the past several hours, but he didn't want to think of that now. Coffee was what he needed. He moved off back to the arena to find some.
(tbc)
Date: 10 Dec 1998 23:01:36 EST
The first evening was rough. He had known it would be, but nothing could have prepared him for this assault. It's not that it hurt or anything; not really. It was just so terribly uncomfortable... and that taste... ::he shivered uncontrollably at the thought:: sometimes almost sweet, most-times sour, and on some occasions, so very bitter!
He stayed hidden that first night. The sensations were so overpowering that he could not maintain his focus at all. It was difficult even to walk. He lay on the cot, waiting -no, not waiting, rather wishing, yes, wishing for it to end. But the duels went on and on. After a time, he dozed...
...and awoke to a welcome silence from within.
Cautiously, he explored the Arena. No one there. He didn't know if it were day or night. Walking silently throught the vacant cavern, he chuckled to himself as he spied the old sundial propped in the corner near the bar, remembering the dumb jokes he used to make about it being broken.
He moved on quietly into the Annex. The only folks here were Hubie and Al, cleaning up after the evenings duels. He waved at them, smiling. "Good Hubie! Doth thou know the hour?" he asked. Hubie ne'er missed a swipe on that table he were cleanin'. He just looked up grinning and shook his head.
Well, it had to still be night, with them still here. Gods, but his head hurt! He had learned much in the past several hours, but he didn't want to think of that now. Coffee was what he needed. He moved off back to the arena to find some.
(tbc)
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From: auritan@aol.com (Auritan)
Date: 11 Dec 1998 02:11:11 EST
Drat! There wasn't any coffee. Drat! and double-Drat!
He was fooling around behind the bar, trying to find everything he needed to get a pot brewing when he heard a sound behind him that startled him and almost had him climbing in the rafters. He turned quickly, his hand simultaneously reaching for the dagger at his waist...
The boy's eyes were big as saucers as he saw the old man reaching for the dagger. "did'n mean ta rile ya, sir," the boy said, bobbing his head nervously. "I heard ya out here, sir, clatterin roun', an I jes wanted ta know if I could help, sir."
Auritan relaxed and smiled as he recognized the young Marcus. "Well, son, ye just sorta startled me is all. I guess I'm a bit jumpy. Er.. Marcus? Could ye help me with this blamed coffee?"
"Aye, sir. Jes sit yerself down an I'll have it made up in no time."
The old man gladly relinquished the chore to the lad and found a seat at one of the tables. Absentmindedly, he opened his tunic and brought out the jewel.
His finger traced the letter "C" etched into the front of the emerald, and he reminisced about the night the jewel was given to him by Coron. One of five jewels it was, this one drawing its power from the land, for healing. "Of the Light and For the Light" Coron had said in describing the jewel. He chuckled quietly. Cor could not have known that the very same phrase had been used on a different world in a different time. Only at that point it
had been used to describe a warrior; a man possessed of strange powers and a wondrous sword, one who had waged a fierce, unrelenting battle against the Dark. He really couldn't have known... could he?
Auritan had humbly accepted the Stone of Earth from Coron and had vowed to its use for the Light. He had felt a bonding the moment he had touched it. Smiling, and remembering, he thought of the folks around Rhydin who had scoffed at the power of the Stone. "Not of this place," they'd said. "Won't work here," they'd said. And he would just smile and move on, using the Stone, or the Stone using him, to heal and give comfort as needed. They would
believe what they wished and damn the truth.
His reverie was interrupted as Marcus sat the steaming mug in front of him. "Here go, sir. Enjoy it, sir." He smiled up at the boy and thanked him for his kindness and watched the youngster disappear into the back room.
He sipped the coffee... it helped some. He looked around at the vast Arena, empty now and lonely. He thought of Athlstan, and how he must have felt during his tenure as the Guardian, locked in that other dimension with the Ward. At least Auri was a person. He could interact with folks... if he chose... if he dared.
If he dared? Did he dare? Now there was a question! Suddenly the fact was before him, staring him squarely in the face... and he had to admit it. He didn't dare! He was afraid! Nay, 'twas more... he was terrified! And alone! He almost lost control right then and there, but somewhere he found the strength, the courage to force his fears aside. He would deal with this. He *could* deal with this... somehow.
He thought of that moment, just a few days before, as Athlstan had handed off the Ward to him. He had stood helpless and felt the pull as the Ward sought to link with him, sought to suck him into that other dimension. But the Stone had reacted and put up a barrier that kept the Ward from claiming him, kept him locked in this world. The link had been formed but with the Stone in between. Then they had merged, the Stone and the Ward, their powers
entwined and interlocked, and he had found himself linked to both. He rolled this over and over in his mind, searching for some reassurance that he was not lost.
He shook his head back and forth as he sat at the table, thinking. When he finished the coffee, he wandered around the Arena for a while, just walking. Finally, he retired to his special place and slept... and dreamt.
(tbc)
Date: 11 Dec 1998 02:11:11 EST
Drat! There wasn't any coffee. Drat! and double-Drat!
He was fooling around behind the bar, trying to find everything he needed to get a pot brewing when he heard a sound behind him that startled him and almost had him climbing in the rafters. He turned quickly, his hand simultaneously reaching for the dagger at his waist...
The boy's eyes were big as saucers as he saw the old man reaching for the dagger. "did'n mean ta rile ya, sir," the boy said, bobbing his head nervously. "I heard ya out here, sir, clatterin roun', an I jes wanted ta know if I could help, sir."
Auritan relaxed and smiled as he recognized the young Marcus. "Well, son, ye just sorta startled me is all. I guess I'm a bit jumpy. Er.. Marcus? Could ye help me with this blamed coffee?"
"Aye, sir. Jes sit yerself down an I'll have it made up in no time."
The old man gladly relinquished the chore to the lad and found a seat at one of the tables. Absentmindedly, he opened his tunic and brought out the jewel.
His finger traced the letter "C" etched into the front of the emerald, and he reminisced about the night the jewel was given to him by Coron. One of five jewels it was, this one drawing its power from the land, for healing. "Of the Light and For the Light" Coron had said in describing the jewel. He chuckled quietly. Cor could not have known that the very same phrase had been used on a different world in a different time. Only at that point it
had been used to describe a warrior; a man possessed of strange powers and a wondrous sword, one who had waged a fierce, unrelenting battle against the Dark. He really couldn't have known... could he?
Auritan had humbly accepted the Stone of Earth from Coron and had vowed to its use for the Light. He had felt a bonding the moment he had touched it. Smiling, and remembering, he thought of the folks around Rhydin who had scoffed at the power of the Stone. "Not of this place," they'd said. "Won't work here," they'd said. And he would just smile and move on, using the Stone, or the Stone using him, to heal and give comfort as needed. They would
believe what they wished and damn the truth.
His reverie was interrupted as Marcus sat the steaming mug in front of him. "Here go, sir. Enjoy it, sir." He smiled up at the boy and thanked him for his kindness and watched the youngster disappear into the back room.
He sipped the coffee... it helped some. He looked around at the vast Arena, empty now and lonely. He thought of Athlstan, and how he must have felt during his tenure as the Guardian, locked in that other dimension with the Ward. At least Auri was a person. He could interact with folks... if he chose... if he dared.
If he dared? Did he dare? Now there was a question! Suddenly the fact was before him, staring him squarely in the face... and he had to admit it. He didn't dare! He was afraid! Nay, 'twas more... he was terrified! And alone! He almost lost control right then and there, but somewhere he found the strength, the courage to force his fears aside. He would deal with this. He *could* deal with this... somehow.
He thought of that moment, just a few days before, as Athlstan had handed off the Ward to him. He had stood helpless and felt the pull as the Ward sought to link with him, sought to suck him into that other dimension. But the Stone had reacted and put up a barrier that kept the Ward from claiming him, kept him locked in this world. The link had been formed but with the Stone in between. Then they had merged, the Stone and the Ward, their powers
entwined and interlocked, and he had found himself linked to both. He rolled this over and over in his mind, searching for some reassurance that he was not lost.
He shook his head back and forth as he sat at the table, thinking. When he finished the coffee, he wandered around the Arena for a while, just walking. Finally, he retired to his special place and slept... and dreamt.
(tbc)
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From: auritan@aol.com (Auritan)
Date: 11 Dec 1998 22:36:40 EST
He woke to a slightly uneasy feeling. His conscious mind caught at the fleeting remnants of a dream. It faded quickly and left him grasping... trying to recall it to no avail. He lay still on the pallet a few moments longer, then arose.
Entering the Arena, he found no one around. He strode to the kitchen and began to fix himself a meal. He hummed softly to himself as he worked, smiling as he located the utensils that he sought. He felt so much better this morning. Was it morning? Well, whatever! It felt like morning! And he felt good.
After the meal, and after cleaning up the mess he'd made, he wandered through the Arena. He stopped at the Center Ring for a moment, staring. There was something he should remember... He paused a moment longer, then turned and headed purposefully toward the south wall.
He looked along the wall, then back toward the stairs, trying to get his bearings. Something was wrong. He was sure he had not forgotten.
He walked along the wall, now replaying in his mind the events of a few days before... He stopped. "It had to have been around here," he muttered. He searched with his hands behind the tapestries and banners that adorned the wall. Ah ha! He had found it. Someone had placed a banner in front to hide it, probably one of the serving boys.
He pulled the banner aside, exposing the crevice in the wall. He studied it intently. Tentatively he reached out a hand and traced the darkened edges of the crevice, hoping perhaps to gain knowledge from the touch. There was something he should remember...
After a moment, he dropped the banner back in place, once more covering the scar. Turning abruptly, he walked away.
His mood brightened again as folks entered the Arena. He joked and laughed with them, enjoying their light banter. Yes he felt good! It would be easier this eve.
Date: 11 Dec 1998 22:36:40 EST
He woke to a slightly uneasy feeling. His conscious mind caught at the fleeting remnants of a dream. It faded quickly and left him grasping... trying to recall it to no avail. He lay still on the pallet a few moments longer, then arose.
Entering the Arena, he found no one around. He strode to the kitchen and began to fix himself a meal. He hummed softly to himself as he worked, smiling as he located the utensils that he sought. He felt so much better this morning. Was it morning? Well, whatever! It felt like morning! And he felt good.
After the meal, and after cleaning up the mess he'd made, he wandered through the Arena. He stopped at the Center Ring for a moment, staring. There was something he should remember... He paused a moment longer, then turned and headed purposefully toward the south wall.
He looked along the wall, then back toward the stairs, trying to get his bearings. Something was wrong. He was sure he had not forgotten.
He walked along the wall, now replaying in his mind the events of a few days before... He stopped. "It had to have been around here," he muttered. He searched with his hands behind the tapestries and banners that adorned the wall. Ah ha! He had found it. Someone had placed a banner in front to hide it, probably one of the serving boys.
He pulled the banner aside, exposing the crevice in the wall. He studied it intently. Tentatively he reached out a hand and traced the darkened edges of the crevice, hoping perhaps to gain knowledge from the touch. There was something he should remember...
After a moment, he dropped the banner back in place, once more covering the scar. Turning abruptly, he walked away.
His mood brightened again as folks entered the Arena. He joked and laughed with them, enjoying their light banter. Yes he felt good! It would be easier this eve.