From: redzealot@aol.com (Red zealot)
Date: 18 Jun 1998 23:44:47 EDT
She had always marveled at how quiet the arena could be when there were no duels. She rarely came here anymore and until earlier this night she had never know why. As she walked along the hall of banners she stopped under her own plain red and white crest. It was so much like her, plain and simple, open and honest. It drew no attention to itself.
She strolled into what she had always referred to as the "Hall of heroes". A room filled will dueling momentos from some of the sports past. She traced her fingers over the replica of Falires broom and heaved a happy sigh at the blinking lights of Shadowrun's "Will duel for bloodstains" sign. They were all here it seemed, weapons and portraits abound. She recognized them all and she paid them homage by uttering some of their names aloud.
"Jade...Gondar...Fantasy...Percival...Finch...Steven...Elijah...Athlstan...Morgan...Xeno...Amaltea...Doctor...Gloin....Merenth...Max...Max...Max...and Max....Nova..."
She went on for the better part of an hour, the names and memories rolling from her lips
like a well remember song. She had named them all, good or bad, well known or not. Any that had gone before her were paid the due that was owed them. She named them all but one....
Sierra Red held Bane firmly in her hands and the fiery redhead was giving one of her famous wry grins. The artist must have been talented for Adeena felt as if she could reach out and embrace the beloved. She was speaking to the portait as if the finest woman to ever duel could hear her from beyond the mist grave.
"You know I always considered you my role model...I fancied myself your little sister. I loved you in my own way. It is safe for me to tell you now that you were a woman...in the truest sense of the word. I tried my best to be like you but the fates made me my own. I would gladly trade all I have achieved to see your smile and slight nod of approval for what I have done here. I hope in some small way I have honored you....if not I beg forgiveness."
"Someday I will come to you and we shall talk. We will drink mead and frighten the men by our skill with the blade. I wonder...would you like this? We shall see. Tell my brothers and sisters that have gone before me to prepare the way....If the fates are done with me I shall be coming home."
Adeena Maeax then stepped back and drew Justicant and place it to the back of her neck. Suddenly she was caught between actions, weighing the odds. Finally she followed through with her intent and sliced off her waist lenght white braid and placed it below Siera's picture.
"Some will think I did this for myself, to bolster whatever memories people may have for me. I tell you now big sister that I do this in honor of you. I give you of myself all that I can, smile for me and be happy. If you think of me, know you were loved."
She then blessed herself and quietly exited the arena. Mounting her laden horse with an easy swing of a muscular leg, she made the begining of the next journey.
To where only the fates know....
You never know what you have till...
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From: jonalyn@aol.com (Jonalyn)
Date: 19 Jun 1998 03:27:59 EDT
The commoner wander among the tapestries, banners, signs and portraits as was oft her wont. She paused as she often did before the banner and image of Siera. A single tear sparkled in the corner of her eye as she saw the braid. She had braided Adeena's beautiful waist length white locks just before the duel that evening. The leather thong she had used to tie the braid remained entwined in those silken locks. With a soft silent
prayer to the Guardian for the fallen Siera and for the former Baroness, the commoner murmured a soft incantation, placing ward around that braid. (s)Thine 'and only, Adeena shall ha' th' power ta' remove th' momento 'o thine 'onor, faith an' love from its place.
An opaque shimmer of white and crimson surrounds the braid, gently and perpetually lighting both the braid and the image of the grand Siera of Redwin. (s)May th' Guardian watch o'er thee, Adeena.
She trod silently up the back stairs, vanishing to wander under the stars, her tears falling freely.
Date: 19 Jun 1998 03:27:59 EDT
The commoner wander among the tapestries, banners, signs and portraits as was oft her wont. She paused as she often did before the banner and image of Siera. A single tear sparkled in the corner of her eye as she saw the braid. She had braided Adeena's beautiful waist length white locks just before the duel that evening. The leather thong she had used to tie the braid remained entwined in those silken locks. With a soft silent
prayer to the Guardian for the fallen Siera and for the former Baroness, the commoner murmured a soft incantation, placing ward around that braid. (s)Thine 'and only, Adeena shall ha' th' power ta' remove th' momento 'o thine 'onor, faith an' love from its place.
An opaque shimmer of white and crimson surrounds the braid, gently and perpetually lighting both the braid and the image of the grand Siera of Redwin. (s)May th' Guardian watch o'er thee, Adeena.
She trod silently up the back stairs, vanishing to wander under the stars, her tears falling freely.
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From: iainmacknz@aol.com (IainMacKnz)
Date: 19 Jun 1998 11:12:17 EDT
The afternoon was quiet as Iain MacKenzie wandered through the city on his weekly errands, engaged in a routine which was now as banal as the rest of his existence. On a lark, however, he chose this day to descend into the basement of the old inn for a long-neglected moment of solitude, beneath the roof that had long sheltered him against any care in the world.
He wandered through the empty, cavernous space, looking as always at the tokens of esteem and remembrance, when his eyes fell upon the twining segments of the braid.
His jaw fell slack, his eyes blinking slowly as he reached a hand to his chest. Unbidden, there was a tightening there, and he realized after a long moment that his breath had caught.
"God above," he whispered faintly to himself. Quickly, his eyes shifted around the room, realizing in one fell rush exactly what had been left behind here - and, more importantly, who. It had all been so different, ages ago, when those who had passed from the veil of the rings were barely known to him, if at all. But now... now, the remnants were overwhelming, and growing too close to home. Indeed, most of those who had long been his dearest
friends and comrades now seemed to simply be non-existent. Billy, Fandral, the Mad Sweep, Max, Feamegil, Martigan, Percival, even Elijah... Athlstan all but gone, only appearing in times of portent, and his mentor, Siera, long since dead, her hand-chosen successor his only link to those glorious days. And now, Adeena.
He reached across to his left hip and drew from the scabbard the deep black main gauche which had never carried a name, and drove it deep, with one quick thrust, into the wall beneath Redwin's banner... and slipped out quietly, having not been observed, and not looking back. Stepping out into the back alley, his fist raised to his cheekbone as the door to the arena swung closed.
Date: 19 Jun 1998 11:12:17 EDT
The afternoon was quiet as Iain MacKenzie wandered through the city on his weekly errands, engaged in a routine which was now as banal as the rest of his existence. On a lark, however, he chose this day to descend into the basement of the old inn for a long-neglected moment of solitude, beneath the roof that had long sheltered him against any care in the world.
He wandered through the empty, cavernous space, looking as always at the tokens of esteem and remembrance, when his eyes fell upon the twining segments of the braid.
His jaw fell slack, his eyes blinking slowly as he reached a hand to his chest. Unbidden, there was a tightening there, and he realized after a long moment that his breath had caught.
"God above," he whispered faintly to himself. Quickly, his eyes shifted around the room, realizing in one fell rush exactly what had been left behind here - and, more importantly, who. It had all been so different, ages ago, when those who had passed from the veil of the rings were barely known to him, if at all. But now... now, the remnants were overwhelming, and growing too close to home. Indeed, most of those who had long been his dearest
friends and comrades now seemed to simply be non-existent. Billy, Fandral, the Mad Sweep, Max, Feamegil, Martigan, Percival, even Elijah... Athlstan all but gone, only appearing in times of portent, and his mentor, Siera, long since dead, her hand-chosen successor his only link to those glorious days. And now, Adeena.
He reached across to his left hip and drew from the scabbard the deep black main gauche which had never carried a name, and drove it deep, with one quick thrust, into the wall beneath Redwin's banner... and slipped out quietly, having not been observed, and not looking back. Stepping out into the back alley, his fist raised to his cheekbone as the door to the arena swung closed.
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From: spifymcbng@aol.com (SpifyMcBng)
Date: 19 Jun 1998 14:48:59 EDT
The lessons for the day were over. Goon grinned at his tutor, despite the headache he had from all that thinking. The smile he received in reply from the librarian was enough of a goodbye for him. The time had come for some fun! Wandering around town a little, inadvertantly scaring small children when he greeted them, the behemoth finally arrived at the Outback. Poking his head in, he was disappointed not to see
anyone there; still, it was the middle of the day, so it wasn't a surprise.
An extra-large hand rose to his head, scratching it to aid his idea factory in coming up with a place to go. Working overtime, he managed to think up the Arena after only ten minutes or so. Goon bounded around to the front door of the Inn, crashing through it, a waitress, and a couple of occupied tables as he made his way to the home of the Duel of Swords.
He entered.. but saw no one. Still, he felt something odd.. was someone here? Tromping loudly down the steps, Goon started walking around slowly, his big brown eyes absorbing the surroundings through fuzzy vision. The banners looked interesting.. enough so to get the mammoth one to pound a path into the floor over to the wall. He saw a lot of pretty banners, forcing forth a grin, and portraits of people he didn't know.
What was that? Hair? The Big Floppy Cat Feet tripped over each other, sending Goon sprawling before the braid. He squinted closely, making sure there really wasn't anyone attached to it. Curious, he reached his meaty fingers out to touch it. It felt real.. he grabbed the braid, still unsure of why it was there. The lady in the picture didn't have white hair. Whose was this?
Giving a hard tug, the powerhouse merely blinked as the locks of white didn't budge. He pulled harder, but the braid still gave no quarter. Yanking with all his might, Goon finally lost his grip and tumbled ten feet backwards, head over heels, finally flopping to a stop in a dazed state. He poked his head up, staring at the hair beneath the picture of Siera. It wasn't that heavy, was it? It didn't matter, Goon had no intention of trying
again.
He never knew Adeena. The only time her name had ever come before his eyes was in the history books he was being taught to read; but even that meant little, as his interest was in learning the words, not the memories held within them. Not once had he seen her, not that he could remember, even if asked. Like her mentor, Siera, the priestess was simply an Arena ghost that would be spoken of for years to come.
Perhaps it was just the way of things that the lumbering Goon, as good a person as he was, would never have the honor of meeting some of the legends who had come and gone long before his arrival. The passing of time always brought change, none more apparent than the newest of Warlords dismissing one of the greatest of Barons, and by doing so, inadvertantly removing her direct influence from the Duels. Those who had learned from her would carry on,
keeping the memories alive, passing on what she had taught them to the future of the Arena.
But the secondhand message is never quite as strong, is it?
As for Goon, he remained content to exit, and leave the braided memento be. The departure of the Baroness was of little concern to him; he wasn't even aware it had happened. Now, it was time to find something to eat.
Date: 19 Jun 1998 14:48:59 EDT
The lessons for the day were over. Goon grinned at his tutor, despite the headache he had from all that thinking. The smile he received in reply from the librarian was enough of a goodbye for him. The time had come for some fun! Wandering around town a little, inadvertantly scaring small children when he greeted them, the behemoth finally arrived at the Outback. Poking his head in, he was disappointed not to see
anyone there; still, it was the middle of the day, so it wasn't a surprise.
An extra-large hand rose to his head, scratching it to aid his idea factory in coming up with a place to go. Working overtime, he managed to think up the Arena after only ten minutes or so. Goon bounded around to the front door of the Inn, crashing through it, a waitress, and a couple of occupied tables as he made his way to the home of the Duel of Swords.
He entered.. but saw no one. Still, he felt something odd.. was someone here? Tromping loudly down the steps, Goon started walking around slowly, his big brown eyes absorbing the surroundings through fuzzy vision. The banners looked interesting.. enough so to get the mammoth one to pound a path into the floor over to the wall. He saw a lot of pretty banners, forcing forth a grin, and portraits of people he didn't know.
What was that? Hair? The Big Floppy Cat Feet tripped over each other, sending Goon sprawling before the braid. He squinted closely, making sure there really wasn't anyone attached to it. Curious, he reached his meaty fingers out to touch it. It felt real.. he grabbed the braid, still unsure of why it was there. The lady in the picture didn't have white hair. Whose was this?
Giving a hard tug, the powerhouse merely blinked as the locks of white didn't budge. He pulled harder, but the braid still gave no quarter. Yanking with all his might, Goon finally lost his grip and tumbled ten feet backwards, head over heels, finally flopping to a stop in a dazed state. He poked his head up, staring at the hair beneath the picture of Siera. It wasn't that heavy, was it? It didn't matter, Goon had no intention of trying
again.
He never knew Adeena. The only time her name had ever come before his eyes was in the history books he was being taught to read; but even that meant little, as his interest was in learning the words, not the memories held within them. Not once had he seen her, not that he could remember, even if asked. Like her mentor, Siera, the priestess was simply an Arena ghost that would be spoken of for years to come.
Perhaps it was just the way of things that the lumbering Goon, as good a person as he was, would never have the honor of meeting some of the legends who had come and gone long before his arrival. The passing of time always brought change, none more apparent than the newest of Warlords dismissing one of the greatest of Barons, and by doing so, inadvertantly removing her direct influence from the Duels. Those who had learned from her would carry on,
keeping the memories alive, passing on what she had taught them to the future of the Arena.
But the secondhand message is never quite as strong, is it?
As for Goon, he remained content to exit, and leave the braided memento be. The departure of the Baroness was of little concern to him; he wasn't even aware it had happened. Now, it was time to find something to eat.
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From: novashayde@aol.com (NovaShayde)
Date: 19 Jun 1998 21:05:38 EDT
Somewhere not of this realm, two figures, a man and a woman, watched the Red Zealot as she fell into a reverie of things past. The man turned away as words were spoken that only his companion was meant to hear. The woman bowed her head and listened, nodding her head in agreement with some of the heartfelt words. As Adeena Maeax rode off into the future, the man watched her. The respectful silence was broken by his soft words.
"We'll be waiting for you, Sister. Just not too soon now," his voice was barely above a whisper... in truth, he had thought her drawn blade would lead her to do something far more rash. He watched with warmth, colorless white eyes locked to her until she could no longer be seen.
"Indeed, she has always honored me," this from the woman, her tone matched to her companion's.
The man turned back toward the woman, hearing the words, smiles were exchanged, and the both turned away from the spectral Arena. The mists of the Void of Souls, or Heaven, or Valhalla... whichever you prefer... closed around them and Siera Redwin and Nova Grey Shadow returned to the true Hall of Heroes, their spirits never straying too far from those they called friends.
(Posted with permission)
Date: 19 Jun 1998 21:05:38 EDT
Somewhere not of this realm, two figures, a man and a woman, watched the Red Zealot as she fell into a reverie of things past. The man turned away as words were spoken that only his companion was meant to hear. The woman bowed her head and listened, nodding her head in agreement with some of the heartfelt words. As Adeena Maeax rode off into the future, the man watched her. The respectful silence was broken by his soft words.
"We'll be waiting for you, Sister. Just not too soon now," his voice was barely above a whisper... in truth, he had thought her drawn blade would lead her to do something far more rash. He watched with warmth, colorless white eyes locked to her until she could no longer be seen.
"Indeed, she has always honored me," this from the woman, her tone matched to her companion's.
The man turned back toward the woman, hearing the words, smiles were exchanged, and the both turned away from the spectral Arena. The mists of the Void of Souls, or Heaven, or Valhalla... whichever you prefer... closed around them and Siera Redwin and Nova Grey Shadow returned to the true Hall of Heroes, their spirits never straying too far from those they called friends.
(Posted with permission)
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From: drakewyni@aol.com (Drakewyn I)
Date: 19 Jun 1998 21:55:07 EDT
Drakewyn had learned of Adeena's departure second hand, and found herself more than a little surprised by it. She remembered her own last words to the Baroness... and Baroness she was still, at least to Drake, "You need to win this... I still haven't had the chance to test myself against you."
The reply had been brief and direct, "I am no less a dueler as a warlord should I lose."
And yet... even if only a handful of people knew of her intention to challenge the Baroness... even if only a few of those knew why she wanted to... There was nothing but respect for the woman in Drakewyn's heart.
"It seems I will need to wait for some time, eh Baroness?" she said to the white braid of hair. At that, she gave a small curtsy to the portrait of the woman who had affected the lives of so many of her friends, and there-by indirectly affected her own... and vanished in a cloud of golden rosepetals.
Date: 19 Jun 1998 21:55:07 EDT
Drakewyn had learned of Adeena's departure second hand, and found herself more than a little surprised by it. She remembered her own last words to the Baroness... and Baroness she was still, at least to Drake, "You need to win this... I still haven't had the chance to test myself against you."
The reply had been brief and direct, "I am no less a dueler as a warlord should I lose."
And yet... even if only a handful of people knew of her intention to challenge the Baroness... even if only a few of those knew why she wanted to... There was nothing but respect for the woman in Drakewyn's heart.
"It seems I will need to wait for some time, eh Baroness?" she said to the white braid of hair. At that, she gave a small curtsy to the portrait of the woman who had affected the lives of so many of her friends, and there-by indirectly affected her own... and vanished in a cloud of golden rosepetals.
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From: girvin@aol.com (GIRVIN)
Date: 22 Jun 1998 05:28:45 EDT
Brian passed through the Arena bent on some train of thought that was bound to lead to another, spent in his flurry of thought. By chance or predestination he had stopped before the banners and remembrances completely absorbed in his thoughts until a singe realization tugged out his consciousness. He blinked twice in disbelief. With a testing finger he reached out to touch the bade protruding
from the wall. He felt the lump grow in his throat. The braid he recognized but not as well that blade. Until then baroness Kaprielle had granted him the high honor of calling her challenge, Brian had long said that the single duel that he called for Kalamere and Iain had been as close as he would ever get to being part of an overlord's match. The hilt of the blade was cool to the touch.
"By the gods, what mighty person of honor will leave us next?" Within himself the highlander said a quiet Gaelic prayer for the MacKenzie's safe return, hoping despite the evidence before him...
© G Irvin 1998 all rights reserved
Date: 22 Jun 1998 05:28:45 EDT
Brian passed through the Arena bent on some train of thought that was bound to lead to another, spent in his flurry of thought. By chance or predestination he had stopped before the banners and remembrances completely absorbed in his thoughts until a singe realization tugged out his consciousness. He blinked twice in disbelief. With a testing finger he reached out to touch the bade protruding
from the wall. He felt the lump grow in his throat. The braid he recognized but not as well that blade. Until then baroness Kaprielle had granted him the high honor of calling her challenge, Brian had long said that the single duel that he called for Kalamere and Iain had been as close as he would ever get to being part of an overlord's match. The hilt of the blade was cool to the touch.
"By the gods, what mighty person of honor will leave us next?" Within himself the highlander said a quiet Gaelic prayer for the MacKenzie's safe return, hoping despite the evidence before him...
© G Irvin 1998 all rights reserved