Orlan

Heck no, these aren't mine....these are from Living Room Games, the guys that made Earthdawn. www.lrgames.com Check out the Den and Rants section....Gotta love what gaming geeks do in thier spare time ::Goes to clean out his loaded doohickey now::

Oompaloompa A cross between a human and a dwarf. They receive a bonus of +3 to their Toughness, and a -4 to their Charisma. They also receive the racial ability of unspoken Taunt, that effects everything in line of sight.

I like pie.

Pants.....pants..... I know I left them somewhere....

The tavern of the Roasting Spit was alive and quite rowdy for so late in the evening. Dayane easily slipped in unnoticed as always. The loud caroling and rowdy behavior in the tavern made it hard to focus on anything. Dayane made her way to the kitchen door and she waited there for a few moments until a rowdy blacksmith made his way to the stage. Then, to the delight of the drunken crowd, he started reciting a bawdy limerick. With the full attention of the crowd on the planned distraction, Dayane moved through the doorway. She moved through the kitchen and down a back hall to the wine cellar. The cellar was quite large, maybe even a bit excessive for an inn of this size, but it was never questioned or suspected. Dayane moved among the racks of wine until she came to a half full rack of high quality mead. She gripped the rack and pulled. The rack and a section of the stone wall behind it swung open. On the other side were a door in the floor and a lightstone in the wall. Dayane shut the secret door behind her as she stepped into the opening. She kneeled down and knocked on the door once. After a moment she knocked two more times. Silence answered for a moment, and then the door slowly rose up a bit, enough to see out, and then opened fully. Silest popped her blonde head out of the hole. “Dayane!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper. “We were afraid that the guards might have gotten you.” Dayane shook her head. “They came close,” Dayane said as Silest moved out of the way so Dayane could climb down. “Where the boys upstairs able to make enough ruckus to get you into the kitchen without any notice?” Silest questioned. Dayane reached the floor of the basement in an easy jump and Silest closed the door. Dayane turned to Silest who still wore her extremely revealing bar wench outfit. “Yes,” Dayane said with a big grin. “Ganness went on stage and started reciting one of his odes to your chest again.” Silest giggled. “Good. I was beginning to think that he didn’t love me anymore after his ode to Marae’s legs last week.” “That’s good to know,” Dayane said with a wink. “Now let’s go see everyone else.” Silest lead the way as they walked through the various passageways that were under the inn. The caves were lit by lightstones, rocks that where infused with magic to produce light without fire. Rilav’s job as a lightstone maker meant resistance had an abundance of them at their disposal. Silest came to stop at a large door and, following a click, the door swung open to reveal the hearth of the resistance. A fireplace was set in the side of the rock. It was another bonus from Rilav for the fire acted the same as a regular fire, yet gave off no smoke. A fortunate necessity if you were in an underground cave. A long wood table was set into the stone ground with benches on both side and a large chair at the end with the fireplace. Lightstones where affixed into the wall on all sides of the room, and one large lightstone fixed like a chandelier in the ceiling, lighting the cave fully. Galland and Ioran both stood up when Dayane came in; their faces showed they had both been worried. Orthar gave Dayane a warm smile when she came in; the dancing flames of the fire and the soft glow of the lightstone lit up the old man’s face. Dayane went over and embraced the old man. “You look terrible, grandfather,” Dayane said after the brief embrace. “Did he eat his stew today?” Dayane asked Silest. “Of course not!” Orthar said before Silest could answer. “That stuff you made for me would kill a grown bull. I’m not going to suffer that concoction just because you think it will be good for me.” Dayane sighed at the old man with a smile. The old man’s face stayed soft for a moment and then turned hard. “What happened tonight?” “Milsan must have known,” Dayane said, sitting down on one of the benches. Galland and Ioran sat back down. Silest opened a door on the other side of the room and stuck in her head. Out from the door came Rilav and two others. The first was Promeid, one of the many merchants of Aline and the main source of funds for the resistance. Promeid was a large man accustomed to a good meal. The lush life of a merchant did not disagree with him. On the other hand, the second in the door was Navah, a wiry, yet overly jovial bard. Navah had a boyish aura around him that made people trust him implicitly. Dayane had used that aura to her advantage many times, mostly against Navah’s wishes for the lad was not one to lie. “Didn’t you see him leave?” Orthar asked. “I did,” Dayane explained. “I trailed him for a bit and then broke off when I thought he was far enough away.” “Maybe he doubled back?” Galland suggested. “Or was it really him?” Silest added. Dayane shook her head. “It was really him. I watched him for months to get to know his daily routine. I’m sure it was him.” Dayane pursed her lips in thought. “I’m irritated to know that the king will get that bribe as usual,” Navah growled. “If Ippiden was there then chances are that Vestat knew of it,” Promeid said. He spoke the king’s wizard’s name with a great sense of loathing. Vestat was not universally liked. “Maybe,” Dayane mused. “Ippiden and the other appetencies of Vestat often ‘rent’ themselves out to wealthy individuals who need them for some reason,” Orthar explained. The old man sat back in his chair and closed his eyes in concentration. Dayane hated when her grandfather did this. She always felt he looked too serene and peaceful, like he was dead. “Regardless, what happened has happened. We can’t do anything about it. We need to start worrying about what our next move should be.” “I’d like to know what went wrong on this raid before I plan another one, grandfather,” Dayane complained. “Milsan saw you.” The voice spoke softly, and since Dayane was already lost in here thoughts, she was the last to react. She spun to the back of the room only to see the stranger she had run into in the street. He was leaning against the wall by a burned out lightstone. Dayane’s heart took a leap. He had rethought the proposition; he was here to help, she thought. Her heart fell sharply when she saw Silest moving. “NO!” Dayane shouted out. It was too little too late. Silest was already committed. Dayane watched as one of Silest’s legs arced upward, aiming for the stranger’s head. Dayane braced herself for what she thought would be Silest’s final breath, but the stranger simply leaned his head to the side and slouched slightly. Silest’s boot came down and struck wall instead of the stranger. That did not stop Silest in the slightest. Dayane had seen Silest practice her moves before, but she was not prepared to witness the next feat of dexterity. Silest spun her other leg up in a kick and placed a hand on the ground to hold herself. The stranger ducked his head, avoiding the kick once again. Silest pulled her legs to her and planted them on the floor, tightening like a spring. When she sprung up she had her slim daggers in both hands, taking a swing at the stranger. This time, the stranger moved first and caught the blade of the dagger in his gloved hand. Then, with blinding speed, he struck Silest across her stomach with the forearm of his other arm. The powerful blow knocked Silest off of her feet and directly into Navah. Ioran was moving by now. The stranger spun the dagger in his hand so he held the hilt and, his eyes fixed on Ioran, let it fly directly at Orthar. The dagger imbedded itself in the wood right next to the old man’s ear. Orthar, surprisingly, did not flinch. “Ioran stop!” Dayane shouted, this time as a command. Taken off guard by both the thrown dagger and the vehemence in Dayane’s voice, the others stopped. “Everyone just stop!” The command was hesitantly obeyed. Dayane walked right up in front of the stranger and looked him directly into his eyes. He had gorgeous blue eyes that did not fit with the rest of him. Dayane was momentarily speechless, but quickly recovered. “What are…how did you get here?” “I walked in,” the stranger said in his cold voice. “Why are you here then? I thought you said I couldn’t afford you.” Dayane voiced the comment with a little bitterness in her voice. She was still angry about the name he called her earlier. The stranger’s eyes bore down on her and she felt suddenly naked. The stranger walked over to Orthar’s chair and reached out his hand. Dayane’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of her leif-sword. Orthar looked up at the stranger. The stranger pulled the dagger out of the wood behind the old man’s head and then turned and walked back over to Silest. He held the dagger by the blade between his index and thumb and then he rolled the dagger over his fingers and offered it, blade first, back to Silest. Silest looked back curiously and stood herself up, ignoring the help from Navah. She reached out and accepted the blade between her last two fingers and rolled it across her hand as the stranger did and sheathed it, and the other dagger, in their sheaths under her skirt. “You can’t afford me, yet I had a infection of conscience. I like to see what I’m refusing before I completely say no.” The stranger looked around at everyone in the room. His face bore little to no expression except for maybe a glimmer of irritation. The stranger turned back on Dayane and sized her up appraisingly. “Six hundred gold,” the stranger said to her. Dayane thought she was hearing things. What the stranger just asked for was nearly impossible for her, or anyone, to come up with. Dayane’s face showed her outrage quite plainly. The stranger shrugged and turned to the door. “I told you that you couldn’t afford me, little girl.” Dayane’s attention came back, angry at the “little girl” remark. “You may be good, but no one is that good. One fifty!” Dayane countered. The stranger turned back and looked at Dayane for a moment and then continued walking. “Grrr. Two hundred!” The stranger continued to the door. Dayane thought about how much money she could scrounge up. Two hundred and fifty gold was about the maximum she thought the resistance could come up with. The stranger stopped before the door, staring at it like it was going to do something. Then Dayane heard something. It sounded like a slap, but no one moved in the room. Dayane, however, swore she saw the stranger flinch. It was barely even a flinch, but Dayane kept picking up strange senses from the stranger, almost as if he was not in full control of his facilities. Dayane did see the stranger ball his hands into fists. The fists looked tight and quite angry. The stranger turned around to Dayane. “Two fifty.” It sounded final. Dayane sighed. This would break the resistance’s money, and Promeid’s face showed his dislike of the amount. The merchant was the main reason that the resistance had any money in the first place, but Dayane felt that she knew that she was doing. At least she hoped she knew what she was doing. Dayane nodded to the stranger. “Two fifty,” she agreed extending her hand out to the stranger. The stranger walked over to her and clasped it, sealing the deal. His grip was stronger then iron. Dayane broke the handshake and turned to Galland. “Go gather it up, Galland. You’ll need to get what’s not in the chest from the gang upstairs, unfortunately.” Galland didn’t look pleased at being told he needed to talk people out of their gold. The stranger spoke. “No need.” Dayane turned and looked at him, her eyes wide in question. “You will pay me after the job is done,” he said. “That’s not a good way to do business,” Promeid spoke up before he realized to whom he was talking. He quickly went silent again, fear in his eyes. The stranger looked straight at the merchant. “It’s how I do business,” the stranger said. “Besides, people stupid enough not to pay me never have to worry about gold again.” The stranger cracked his neck and relaxed somewhat. “Our contract starts tomorrow at sunrise.” He turned once again and started out the door. Dayane’s eyes glanced over her companions. “I have two questions,” she piped up. The stranger stopped. “Ask quickly,” he said without turning around. “You slaughtered those guards without a second thought, why didn’t you kill Silest also?” Dayane asked with a logic that made the question sound cold. The stranger looked at Silest. “Your friend is a student of the Uri-van. I respect their art form and refrain from killing them. The second question?” “What’s your name?” In contrast, Dayane felt silly asking this question. She realized that she never got his name before. The stranger walked out the door and started shutting it behind him. “Taleth,” he said as he shut the door. Nothing moved for a few moments. “You’re kidding me,” Navah said. His eyes where alight with wonder. “That was Taleth the Black! Taleth the Black! Here! Praise the Great Queen, my story will be the greatest story ever written!” “I wouldn’t be too quick with your pen, Navah. I don’t think that he was Taleth the Black,” Ioran said. “I’m inclined to disagree,” Silest said, rubbing her stomach. “He did catch my dagger by the blade in his hand. And he hits hard enough to be immortal.” “He could have had iron lined gloves,” Ioran said, shaking his head. “But he moved like lightning!” Navah disagreed. “So does our Silest if you’ll remember,” Galland said. Navah looked like he was planning up a reply. “It doesn’t matter,” Dayane said, ending the argument. “Whoever he is, whatever he is, he has tremendous skill and I plan to utilize that skill. Now then, for the rest of the night you all need to get some sleep. I can safely say this meeting is over.” A little more discussion followed about the stranger but after more stern words from Dayane the others went off to their homes. Dayane felt like a mother hen as she sat down at the table with her grandfather. She let out a deep thigh. “Is he who he says he is, grandfather?” Dayane asked as she stared up at the lightstone in the ceiling. The lights in the stone where swirling around like rivers of water. “He is,” Orthar said. Dayane was a little taken back. She picked her head up and looked at her grandfather, whom was himself staring off into the flames of the fireplace. “Are you sure?” Dayane asked. “Quite.” The old man turned back to his granddaughter and smiled at her. “When I was a blacksmith in the southern country I went to the magistrate to argue the taxes imposed on me. The magistrate was not being helpful when the door opened and that man walked in.” Orthar turned back to the fire as if it helped him remember. “He walked up to the magistrate and killed him right before me. Crossbow bolts flew from the guards at Taleth. The bolts bounced off him like he was solid granite. He calmly walked by me and out the door without so much as a glance.” “If that was him why didn’t you say anything?” Dayane asked. “He told me not to,” Orthar said turning back to Dayane. “When?” Dayane stared wide-eyed at her grandfather. “He slipped in before Ioran and Galland returned. He broke the lightstone and leaned against the wall,” Orthar said with a shrug. Dayane was outraged. The old man knew about him the whole time he was there and did not say a thing, even to his own granddaughter. “How did you see him?” she asked. “I was eating when he walked in the door,” Orthar said matter-of-factly. “The look he gave me spoke enough to make me know he wanted me to stay quiet.” Orthar grunted and used his cane for support as he stood. He looked at Dayane with a warm smile. “In all the stories and myths that surround Taleth the Black, you should remember that he upholds any contract he accepts. You may not think you had a good night because of the Milsan fiasco, but I think you should chalk this up as a good ending, granddaughter. Now do an old man a favor and get some rest tonight, will you?” Orthar leaned over and kissed Dayane on her cheek and rumbled out the door, leaving Dayane to think to herself. Dayane found she agreed with the old man. Tonight did turn out to be a good night.

The warehouse rooftop was quiet in the still night. Dayane was being extra cautious tonight. Milsan’s warehouse was one of the more guarded storehouses in this part of town. She trod lightly and hoped that her other three companions did the same. The bells of the Holy City of Aline reverberated thrice through the night, indicating midnight. After the echoes of the bells died, Dayane heard the poor imitation of a lark whistle that confirmed what the bells had just sang. It was midnight, and the time to act was now. Dayane crept across the rest of the roof to the southern edge of the building. She kneeled to the end of the roof and glanced down, overcoming a wave of vertigo, and got her bearings. On the street below her, Dayane saw a line of trash that was spread across the street in a straight line. She moved her position so she was looking straight down on the trash. After a quick look around and down to make sure she was alone, she unwrapped the length of rope from around her waist and began lowering one end down. The end had a medium sized metal ring attached to it, which made a soft clinking noise every time it came in contact against the stone building. She lowered it slowly until she felt gentle tugging that indicated the ring had reached the hands of her companion. She fed out the rope until her hands touched a large knot in the rope. She gripped the knot in her hands and waited. Her gaze turned up for those minutes. She saw peeks of a crescent moon through the cloudy night. The Gods had blessed this night for the resistance, thought Dayane. She sighed to herself and looked towards the center of the city, where the Grand Castle stood. Torches lit up the castle through the night, causing an almost magical glow to surround the castle. The Tower of Rysabella stood prominent in this view. The windowless stone pillar was topped with a torch that never went out, no matter the weather. Dayane was snapped out of her focus on the tower by a long pull on the rope. The pull was followed by the poor imitation of a lark again. The soft barking of a dog followed this lark imitation. Dayane made a mental note to rethink the cal sounds when this was all over. Standing, Dayane inhaled deeply a few times. She slowly shuffled backwards until the rope became taut. She then took a few more deep breaths and twisted the rope around her leather gloves, tightening her grip and keeping the knot directly in front of her hands. She took another few breaths and resolved herself. She grimaced once and took off for the edge of the roof, holding her breath. With a leap she left the edge of the roof, holding the rope very tightly in her hands as she sent herself sailing through the air. When she left the edge of the roof she forced herself to spin around so she was facing in the opposite direction. As she distanced herself from the warehouse the rope tightened and jolted her so she stopped moving horizontally, and started falling down to her predetermined target of the second story window. Dayane sailed down at the building, right at the darkened window. She braced herself just as she flew through the window when two massive hands reached out and grabbed her. Dayane’s eyes shut tight and she let go of the rope as she felt herself being caught. When she stopped moving she opened one of her eyes and looked directly at an enormous bicep that was placed around her face. “You all right?” came Ioran’s soft voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” “O’course,” Ioran said as he relaxed his hold on her, letting her slip out. Dayane kneeled down to try and get her breath back as the door to the room she had just slipped into opened and Galland stepped in. He had on black leather breeches and a black tunic, which made him look slightly ridiculous since his skin was about as white as a ghost. “Let’s get moving,” Galland said, pausing to look around outside the door. He opened the door all the way and tossed to Dayane her leif-sword, a thin bladed short sword that was her most treasured possession. She gave the leif-sword an affectionate hug and attached it to her hip. Galland gave her a roll of his eyes and shake of his head. Ioran stepped around Dayane and crept towards the door. Dayane could clearly see the outline of his muscles in the low light. Ioran rarely wore a shirt, especially on the hot summer nights, yet Dayane figured it was more to show off then anything else. Dayane, however, did admit that Ioran was very easy on the eyes. Dayane slipped behind Ioran, stalking quietly. Galland led the two of them down a hall, creeping quietly himself. The three moved swiftly down the empty corridors. Dayane started to get a bad feeling. Things usually went smoothly, but the warehouse seemed empty. Dayane put her senses on high alert, trying to hear anything and everything she could. Galland lead them to a door at the end of the hall and paused, waiting. A moment later the three of them heard a set of footsteps creeping towards them. Dayane watched as their last companion wavered into view as the footsteps stopped. Rilav appeared, dropping the illusion of his shadowcloak. “You’re late,” Dayane whispered to the wizard. Rilav nodded in agreement. “I went looking for some guards, but I couldn’t find any.” Rilav looked over his shoulder back where he had just come from. Dayane noticed the suspicious tone in his voice. She suspected that she was not the only one with strange feelings about how perfect this night was flowing. “I don’t like it either,” Dayane agreed. “Let’s all keep on our guards.” The other three nodded their agreement. Dayane motioned for Galland to go ahead. Galland slipped a lock pick out of his boot and set about picking the lock one the door before them. The chest they where looking for was just beyond this door. Dayane had watched Milsan for a few months and knew how he prepared his monthly bribe to the crown. The gold would be sitting in a chest, prepared today at the end of the day and to be sent at first light tomorrow when the Grand Castle opened its gates. Dayane wanted that money instead, and she was determined to get it tonight. A click sounded as the door fell ajar slightly on its own. Galland slid the lock pick back into his boot and listened at the door for a moment. With care, he pushed opened the door and turned back to Rilav. The wizard shut his eyes and promptly wavered and vanished. Dayane felt the wind of a passing body brush against her as Rilav moved through the door. The other three waited patiently until Dayane heard Rilav’s soft footsteps again. He wavered back into view shaking his head and mouthing curses. “Twelve,” Rilav said after a moment. “Six of them are playing dice, three are watching the room, one is asleep and the other two are talking. What do we do?” Dayane thought for a moment. “I need to see them first,” Dayane said. Rilav nodded and opened the door fully. There were some large crates directly in front of the door, blocking it from the view of the room. Rilav waved his hand and Dayane crept into the room. The wizard pointed to an opening in the crates where Dayane could see into the room. She slipped by him and watched as he wavered and disappeared out of the corner of her eye. Dayane moved toward the opening and looked around the crates cautiously. Her eyes danced from guard to guard, making mental notes as to their positions. However, when she reached one of the guards her breath stopped. It was Milsan. Dayane spun around muttering a silent curse, which was soon joined by a string of non-silent curses when she saw Ioran and Galland standing with knives at their throats. “Well, well, well,” came an all to familiar voice. Dayane’s teeth grit as her gaze went up to the most pathetic and sniveling sorcerer in the Holy City. “Today looks like a good day for me,” Ippiden said, an evil grin on his face. * * * “I wouldn’t feel so sure of yourself, Ippy,” Dayane said. She, Galland and Ioran had been brought into the open and surrounded by guards with weapons drawn. The three faced Milsan, Ippiden and the guards. “You seem to forget who has the power here, Dayane,” Ippiden said, emphasizing her name with scorn. The second rate sorcerer stood with a look of contempt and Dayane had to resist the urge to walk up to and slap it off his face. Dayane crossed her arms and grit her teeth again. “You have about as much power as a blind mouse, Ippy,” Dayane spat. Ippiden was visibly angry now and stretched out his hand at her, crushing the air. Dayane immediately fell to the ground, he throat being slowly crushed. She scratched at an invisible set of hands around her neck, trying to break free and get some air. Milsan stepped in at this part, slapping Ippiden’s arm down and breaking the spell. “Stop that!” he shouted at Ippiden. “The bounty is for them alive, they’re not worth anything dead.” Ippiden growled but did nothing else. Dayane coughed and sputtered a few times, getting her breath back. When she was doing this she felt the wind brush against her, like someone was walking by. She placed a hand down to look like she was trying to steady herself and held out three fingers. Ioran’s growl answered Dayane’s signal. “You’re pathetic, Ippy. You’re just a lackey for your master and the king,” Dayane said between coughing. Ippiden looked as if he was going to lash out at her again, but Ioran caught him, and everyone else off guard. Ioran let out a guttural roar that stunned everyone for an instant. The instant was all Rilav needed. Dayane’s eyes shut tightly and her eyelids where flooded with an intensely bright light. The instant the light vanished, Dayane’s eyes shot open and she drew out her leif-sword in mid spin. She sliced out at the guard nearest her, dragging the tip of the blade across his unprotected chest. The guard fell out of the way and Dayane sprinted out of the room, the sounds of her companions followed. Dayane ran down the hallway to the room that Ioran was in. She leapt through the door and skidded to a halt. Galland was right behind her and kept running, right out the window and to the rope that was hanging there. Rilav was right behind him when he started climbing down. Dayane turned in time to see Ioran come through the door with a few guards on his heels. Ioran immediately slammed the door shut and reached over to pull a cabinet down in front of the door to hold off the guards. “Go!” he yelled at Dayane. She didn’t need any more encouraging then that as she shimmied down the rope. Ioran came down right after. The moment he hit the ground Galland tossed a dagger up at the rope, cutting it at the top. “What now?” Rilav asked as the rope fell behind him. Dayane took a quick glance down the street as a group of city guards started running at them. “Split up, and meet back at base!” Dayane shouted as she turned and started running the other way. She started running down a street here and there, slowly distancing herself from the three or four guards that where perusing her. Dayane had nearly gotten herself out of the view of the guards when she rounded a corner. She spotted the person a moment too late and only had time to brace herself to tumble with them. To her surprise, and pain, she hit the stranger and bounced back, like she had hit a wall. She landed and scraped her hands on the ground with a yelp. She was about to look at her wounds when she heard the stampede of the guards catching up to her. She looked up and saw them bearing down on her. She was rather surprised when the first one went after the stranger that she had just bowled into. The guard sliced at the stranger with a wild strike considering how fast he had been running. The stranger sidestepped it easily. The next guard had reached the two of them and lunged at the stranger. The stranger sidestepped again, but this time he showed amazing dexterity when he brought up his hand to hit the underside of the blade, popping it out of the guard’s grasp. The guard kept going forward in his lunge as the stranger fluidly took hold of the sword’s hilt and stabbed the blade into the back of the guard’s head. The stranger was moving by the time the last two guards got to him and he sliced one of them open with a quick sideswipe and deflected the attack of the other one with a downward parry. With a flick of his wrist he jabbed the point of the sword into the guard’s wrist and with another flick the sword jumped up and slit the guards throat. At this time the first guard had recovered and was having second thoughts about attacking seeing as what just happened to his companions. The moment of hesitation was all the time the stranger needed as he tossed his pilfered sword right at the guard, sinking it into his chest with a sickening crunch. An instant was all it took for the stranger to kill four of the city’s guards. Dayane was frozen there, half kneeling, half laying down, her eyes locked on the stranger. This man had short black hair, and a simple face. Nothing about him stood out to Dayane. Nothing except the cold, calculated way he had just slaughtered four people. She watched as he slowly looked around and then started walking away. Dayane clamored up to her feet and ran towards the stranger. “Hey wait!” she called out, though not wholly knowing why. The stranger stopped and turned halfway swiftly, causing Dayane to stop short. She did not really want to be too close. The stranger looked at her with a level gaze and Dayane could feel the questioning coming from him. “Um…you know you just killed the town guard?” The stranger glanced back at the guards and then at Dayane. “So?” he said. His voice was not very loud, but it was rigid, and as cold as the killing he had just done. “So?” Dayane repeated. “So you better come with me, or else you’ll get tossed into the dungeon!” The stranger inhaled a single contempt laugh and turned and started walking away again. “Do you think you can take on ALL of the city guard?” Dayane said to him. He continued walking. “I can offer you protection!” Dayane realized how utterly stupid that sounded a moment after it came out. The stranger didn’t seem to need protection. Dayane started walking after him now. “Maybe not protection, but we would use your skills! We work for a noble cause!” The stranger continued walking. Dayane was trying to think of something to get this man’s attention. She was sure she could get him to help her if she had some times to work on him. He was an amazing swordsman, and the resistance needed people like him, especially now. Then, like a gentle whisper in her ear, she heard what she needed. Money. “I can pay you!” This got the stranger to stop. He spun around and looked at her, causing Dayane to stop suddenly, frozen in his gaze. But it didn’t look like he was staring at her, but rather just over her shoulder. Dayane was sure it was just the lowlight and the torches on the street that where playing tricks on her. She did see the stranger’s lips as he mouthed a nearly silent whisper. Dayane had to strain her ears and still didn’t hear anything. The stranger stood there for a moment, a very long moment, before he let out a growl. “You can’t afford me, little girl,” the stranger said. Dayane held back the counter for the “little girl” remark. “What do you know of how much money I have?” she asked. She didn’t really need to pay him. She was sure that she would be able to guilt him into helping the resistance once she had some time to work on him. She was confident with herself on that matter. The stranger whispered something again and then turned around and started walking away again. “No! Don’t go!” Dayane shouted after him. The stranger paid her no heed this time though. Dayane thought about going after him again but by then she heard the sound of more guards coming her way, and she knew she had to leave now. She let out a soft sigh and took off down the street once more.

A thump was heard as the aged bard Usuiai struck his fist against the door to the tavern. The oak door swung open roughly, bouncing back when it hit its limit. The patrons of Loaren’s Tavern swung their faces about with the intrusion of noise. The children that were huddled around the large, brick fireplace all had the same expectant look on their faces. They were all trying to get a better look at the old bard, their eyes aglow. Usuiai took a moment to shake out the folds of his cloak, letting the rain that attached itself to him drop to the floor. With a slow hand he shut the oak door behind him, latching it shut. The old bard took in his surroundings for a moment, savoring in the attention. The children of Arani were already prepared for the story that Usuiai was laying out in his mind right now. The annual harvest festival came only once a year, and every year for the past ten brought Usuiai to Loaren’s Tavern on the final festival day. Every year for ten years Usuiai told one of his tales to the townsfolk of Arani. Not many remember why he started, or why he always returned every year, yet not a one argued with the royal bard’s decision. Usuiai spent a great deal of his life in the larger cities, from Milanka to Ryviar, entertaining the royalty, highlords and upper class of society with his tales, songs, poems and every other form of entertainment he could muster. Usuiai was one of the best. Luckily for the townsfolk of Arani, age had not affected his abilities in the slightest. A large man, his hair as red as the crackling fire, walked over to Usuiai while wiping his hands on an apron. He stopped a few steps from the bard, towering over the bent, old man. He looked down with a great smile across his face and held out his hand to Usuiai. “Good to see you again, Master Bard. Your cloak?” Usuiai grinned up at the massive man. “Of course, Toamas,” Usuiai replied, removing his dripping cloak and handing it off to the tavern owner. Toamas took the cloak over and hung it from a peg, giving it a good shake beforehand. Usuiai then made his way over to the large chair that was positioned next to the fireplace. The children, about fifteen of them, surrounded it in a half circle. They ranged in age, yet they where the younger of the townsfolk. Their elders sat at the various tables strewn behind them, drinking and eating softly. They too, were waiting for Usuiai to begin his tale. With a quite unceremoniously plop, the old bard sat in the large chair, letting out a sigh of satisfaction. One of the bar maids came over with a large tankard and Usuiai smiled up at her graciously as he accepted the tankard. He took a sip from it and grinned, half to himself and half to the tankard. He then set the tankard on the arm of the chair and looked down at the children. All their faces where painted with the exact impatience. They all wanted the story that Usuiai was putting the finishing touches on in his mind. Usuiai chuckled. “So what will it be this year?” he asked them, leaning forward in his chair. “I could tell the tale of Floriaye, the Blade Mistress, or maybe of the fall of Orgardom. I ran across a wonderful off-color telling of the marriage of a milk maid and a blacksmith, too.” At once the chaos broke out. “No! You promised…” said one of the children. “You told of Floriaye three years ago,” came a voice right after the first. “You said this year you’d tell *his* story!” a small boy in the front said. “We’ve waited all year-“ started another. “We’ve been GOOD!” interrupted yet another. “Please…Mister Usuiai,” came the voice of a small girl in the front. Usuiai swung his head around so his eyes locked with hers. The little girl immediately looked to the ground, apparently too shy and mumbled nearly silently. “Hmmm?” Usuiai said, turning his ear to the girl. “I didn’t quite catch that…” The girl turned five shades of scarlet in an instant, blazing like the fire behind Usuiai. Looking sheepishly up at the old bard the little girl spoke just over a whisper. “You promised…you’d tell us the story about Taleth the Black.” Usuiai made himself look surprised to hide the smile he had. He mockingly slapped a hand to his forehead. “Oh my!” he said with great exasperation. “If I promised a great lady such as yourself that then I absolutely MUST keep my word. One does not simply break his promises to women. That is just ungentlemanly!” Usuiai’s ears perked up when he heard a soft yet amused grunt. He was old yet the many years he had spent training to be a bard had heightened his senses. He was nearly sure that no one else heard the grunt from the man who sat against one of the outside walls. The light from the fire was not enough to light anymore then the outline of the man. Usuiai wondered why his senses went off with that man. He shrugged internally and turned back to the children. Their faces were painted in anxiety. Usuiai’s own face broke into a great grin. “Now then…Taleth the Black…where to begin…I wonder,” Usuiai began. “Well right off, there’s no one who knows exactly where Taleth came from. Quite really, there is no one alive from his time, for as I’m sure you all know, Taleth the Black is immortal.” Usuiai paused for dramatic effect. “A cold blooded, murdering immortal.” “Taleth was the worst kind of lot. He was a murderer for hire…an assassin. He killed without care, and many think without remorse. The most sickening part about him was that he never failed. He was the most wanted man in the four kingdoms. The list of his crimes was far too long to list; yet, a list was not needed. Nearly the whole world lived in fear of one man. He eluded bounty hunter and soldier with ease. He could slip anywhere. He was the best of a deranged breed. Yet Taleth’s previous crimes where nothing compared to his final mortal deed.” Usuiai took a drink from his tankard before continuing. All eyes where focused on him. “Queen Rysabella was possibly the greatest ruler the kingdoms had. She brought peace where war was fought, and saved lives where death ensued. She ruled with the power of the Crown of Life, and was loved and adored by almost all. Unfortunately, one did not love her. This despicable creature remains nameless to the kingdoms, yet all know his deed.” Usuiai looked around the room with stern and cold eyes, adding to the anxiety. “He hired Taleth the Black. Rysabella, the Great Queen, was the target…and Taleth did not even blink twice. “On a dark night, in the beginnings of the fall, Taleth the Black slipped into the Holy City, and up to the heavily guarded castle. Without trouble, he moved through the shadows and into the Great Queen’s room. In the dark of that night, he took out his dagger, and committed the most heinous of murders. This,” Usuiai said with heavy pressure, “was the final death the gods permitted Taleth the Black to make. For whatever their reasons, they decided Taleth needed to be taught a lesson. Yet I do not think that the gods could have expected the outcome. “The guards outside the Great Queen’s room heard a roar of pain and immediately rushed into aid their ruler. What they saw was burned into their memories forever. Floating in the air, facing one another, was Taleth and the body of Queen Rysabella. The two were bound together by pulsing tendrils of light that glowed a brilliant blue. Taleth was howling in pain, yet the Queen floated limp, obviously dead.” Usuiai sighed and took another drink as one of the younger girls sniffled sadly. “In an instant the tendrils broke and the light vanished and the two bodies dropped to the floor. Queen Rysabella’s body crumpled limply when it hit, while Taleth was able to gain footing as he landed. For a moment nothing happened. The Crown of Life slipped off Rysabella’s head and rolled shortly before it too fell to the ground. The guards moved instantly. With a swing of his axe, a guard caught Taleth off guard for the first time ever. The axe cut the air swiftly, aimed dead center at Taleth’s neck. The blow was enough to shatter stone,” Usuiai stopped. His hands where spread out before him in a mystic pose. The children, and a few of the older ones, where leaning in waiting for what they knew was next. Usuiai let the moment drag on for a good moment of suspense before continuing. “The axe shattered upon impact. Taleth remained unmoved. The guard’s momentum slammed him into the assassin and the guard bounced back like he hit a solid wall. The other guards who had reacted with their companion where once again frozen. Most could not believe what they had just seen, for truly, it was impossible. Taleth seemed as stunned as the guards, yet his face was soon twisted in horror. He stared at Rysabella’s body, yet he did not stare down at it, but rather right above it. He took a step back; the guards said he was shaking. Whatever he saw filled him with an intense amount of fear. So much fear, in fact, that he shocked the guards by turning and sprinting towards a window that he leapt out of…and down over a hundred feet to the cold, hard ground. “Rumors spread like wildfire in every direction. Taleth the Black was immortal. He could not be killed. Some evil men even started lies that said Taleth was blessed with immortality by the gods for freeing the lands from Rysabella’s rule. A barrage of rumors floated about, yet, they were only rumors. Taleth was never caught. From that day very little was heard about him. No one knows exactly what happened that night and every night after save Taleth himself. Yet most, myself included, believe the gods meant for this to be a punishment for Taleth. Yet one can not say if it worked or not, and frankly, I doubt anyone would want to ask Taleth about it…don’t you agree?” Silence answered him. Usuiai smiled and took a drink from his tankard, finishing it off. He had told a superb story. The entire place was enraptured with the tale. One boy was looking at Usuiai with skepticism in his eyes. “That would make Taleth over one hundred and fifty…if he was still alive,” he said. Usuiai turned to him and nodded. “No one know how old Taleth was when he killed the Great Queen, so no one can give an accurate measurement of his age, but he is still out there, young lad.” Usuiai replied. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but the door to the tavern shot open with a loud bang. In walked four soldiers, armored in the style of the Great King. Behind them walked a shifty eyed man, with a black cloak draped over his shoulders. He looked with disgust at the shabby tavern and then to the people who all stared back at him. “So this is where the townspeople of Arani had fled,” the man said. He cleared his throat and spoke in a louder voice. It sounded much like a weasel. “I am hereby authorized to extract from the people of Arani the taxes that they seem to think they need not pay. This is by order of his majesty, the Great King.” The older folk broke out in argument after a moment of silence. The taxes that the Great King enforced where nearly ridiculous. The town of Arani had refused to pay them. This entourage was obviously here to collect. Usuiai sat back and sighed regretfully as the arguing began. Something caught his eye after a minute. The stranger who had first caught his attention stood up. Usuiai watched him as he reached into his cloak and set a small silver coin on the table to pay for his drink. He wore a traveler’s cloak and the hood was up. It was still slightly wet, meaning he had just stopped for a drink before Usuiai had arrived. The old bard watched him for some strange reason with an undying curiosity. The stranger started walking towards the door when Usuiai suspected, the tax collected first realized the stranger was there. “You there!” the weasel man said. “You cannot leave until you pay your taxes to his majesty!” The stranger did not seem to notice, or care for that matter. He continued walking to the door. One of the guards reached out and took hold of the stranger’s arm, stopping him. The man looked down at the guard’s grip on his arm and then looked up at the guard. His other hand came around and with a flick of his wrist he slammed his palm into the soldier’s breastplate with enough force to dislodge his grip and send him flying backwards out the door. The other guards drew out their swords and the townspeople backed out of the way. One soldier raised his sword and swung down on the stranger, to little avail though. The stranger’s arm came up and deflected the sword with his forearm. In a smooth motion the stranger reached into his cloak and pulled out his own sword and sliced the soldier across his stomach. The guard fell with a cry while another jumped at the stranger. The stranger leapt at the soldier and sliced him right under the bottom of his helmet, slitting his throat. A gurgled yell accompanied this soldier as he fell to the floor in a shower of red. Without a glance behind him the stranger swung his sword around and landed it in the final soldier’s chest, piercing his breastplate. The soldier fell to the ground with a clang of finality. People stood frozen in fear. This happened so fast no one could have reacted if they would have wanted. The stranger bent down to a soldier and used one of their cloaks to wipe his blade. The tax collector became scared. He looked around quickly as he the stranger stood up again. A dagger slipped out of the tax collector’s sleeve and he grabbed the little girl who had reminded Usuiai earlier. The girl let out a yelp that caused the people around them to jump. “Nobody move!” cried the weasel man as he placed the dagger against the crying child’s throat. “Nobody move or she dies!” He was talking to the townsfolk who had reacted, but mainly to the stranger. The stranger sheathed his sword and looked back. “Then kill her,” came the stranger’s voice. It was hard, cold and made Usuiai feel uneasy. It was also apparently final as the stranger turned to the door and started walking out. He took three steps and then stopped suddenly. The weasel man flinched, pressing the edge of the dagger into the child’s throat a bit, causing her to cry out louder. Usuiai moved himself to the edge of his chair, readying himself to jump but froze when the stranger stopped. With slow and seemingly irritated movement, the stranger looked to his left, at nothing. He stared there for a moment before letting out a growl. His hand flashed movement an instant before the weasel man went rigid. He then fell back to the ground with a dagger protruding from the middle of his skull. The little girl turned back and stared in horror and then ran to her mother, who picked her up and held the crying child close. The stranger walked stoically back to where he had been sitting and reached into his cloak and set a gold coin next to his silver. With the eyes of the tavern on him the stranger turned back around and made for the door. Before he stepped out into the rain he stopped and turned his head halfway back and spoke in the same cold voice he used before. “Taleth,” the stranger said, “is one hundred and eighty seven.” With that, he stepped out into the pouring rain, leaving the tavern silent, save for the sound of the rain and the whimpering of a child.

(Conversion Confusion, this is actually the fourth post in this thread) Chocolate pie, yum! Banana me babykins, Who needs pants? Not I! I'd be more frightened, If I started to make sense. Just run fast away.

Wyvern's office. Nighttime. Quiet. Serene. Placated, whatever the hell that means. The perfect place....for a CRIME! Or at least, that's what Orlan thinks as he drilled a hole into the ceiling of the office. The Sexy Sexy Man/Elder of Bards stuck his head through the hole, looking about into the darkened office. "Hmm," Orlan said to himself, looking around. He pulled his head back out of the hole and looked behind him where the Elder of Lists and something else I can't remember right now but that's alright because it dosen't really matter anyway, Gwaihir was lying, burdened down with equipment. "Do you REALLY need all this?" Gwaihir lamented. Orlan pursed his lips and thought for a moment. "Of course not, but we need to train you....and you seemed to be gaining the Fresh-Elder 15...I wanted to make sure you stayed slim," Orlan said. He was always looking out for the little guy...as long as it didn't interfere with his getting anything. "Hand over the rope, G." Gwaihir handed Orlan a length of rope which Orlan tied to some thing that happened to be stable enough to hold it because he told it to be stable enough to hold it and dumped the other end into the office below. The rope went to nearly the floor, but not quite. "Stay here," Orlan told Gwaihir as he started to shimmy (strut-like of course) down the rope, head first. When Orlan reached the end of the rope he looked down at the checkered-board type flooring. He first praised The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen that he had a better interior designer do his office then Wyvern's was, and then he put on his "ACME See-the-stupid-traps-so-you-can-avoid-them" goggles and stared at the floor. "Aha!" Orlan shouted triumphantly when he saw the traps and before realizing he should shut up. He put the goggles up and turned to look up at Gwaihir who was peeking down. "Toss me the book labeled 'This is not a book about Lies', will ya?" Gwaihir mumbled and fumbled for a bit until he located a big tome and promptly dropped the book to Orlan. The Sexy Sexy Man waited until the last possible second before reaching out and suave-ily grabbing it. It was neato. Orlan opened the book and flipped a few pages before realizing that the book was upside down. Well...the book was right side up, but Orlan was upside down so Orlan had to upside-down the book to right-side up it....make sense? Orlan scanned through it and found the counterspell he wanted. Looking down at the floor he peered at the tiles. "I'm Wyvern, turn off." Orlan said in his own voice. The tiles pulsed in color and then stopped glowing. Orlan made a point to get a new security system for his office....then remembered that he didn't have anything of value in his office. Orlan spun himself upright and landed himself on the tiles, with no alarms. "Git down here, Gwai!" Gwaihir fumblede down, loaded down with all the equipment still. Orlan crept over (still strut-like) to the file cabinet at the side of the room. He scanned the labels until he found what he wanted and opened it out, skimming over the labels of people's names. "'Peredhil', no, 'Jechum', no, 'Yo Mamma', no, 'That guy with the thing coming out of his head', no...aha! Here it is..'Tzimfemme'!" Orlan pulled out Tzimfemme's file from the drawer. He opened up the file on the desk. "Light?" he asked Gwaihir. Gwaihir fumbled around his pockets looking for something and finally handed over a couple unbroken glowsticks to Orlan. Orlan looked at the glowsticks at then back at Gwaihir. "What?" Gwaihir asked. "Where these the glowsticks from the Rave party where you got stoned off of Peredhil's Perfectly Pragmatic Power of Pokey and then danced the Charelston on the flagpole?" Orlan asked. Gwaihir looked at the floor and mumbled and grumbled and mumbled some more. Orlan grinned and snapped the glowsticks, bringing them down to light the file. Orlan fingered through the things, looking for something in particular. After a moment he found it. Gwaihir looked over Orlan's shoulder and saw that he was looking at a picture of Tzimfemme, nekkid as a jaybird, with Orlan nibbling on he shoulder and in the background was Greased chasing Nissassa around with a giant blue bunny. Orlan looked longingly at the picture and sighed a bit. He then reached into his clothes and took out another picture that was a picture of just Tzimfemme and had the label "Tzimfemme pose No. 983,423" on the bottom. He deftly switched the two photos and put Tzimfemme's file back where it was. "Why'd you switch the pictures?" Gwaihir asked. Orlan mumbled a reply. Gwaihir cocked an ear. "I'm sorry, what was that?" "I left my other copy of that at my summer home with my stuffed bear, okay!" Orlan said a little louder then he should have. Gwaihir didn't get a chance to snigger at the thought when the door handle jiggled as someone started unlocking it. Orlan thought quick. Casting a morphing spell on Gwaihir he made him look like Wyvern and then started throttling him. He then used a spell from his days as a Priest to the Left side of the Priest to the Left Side of the Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen and turned he and Gwaihir/Wyvern to stone. The door opened to Wyvern's office and Melba walked in in her cleaning woman uniform and a big duster. She started methodically going around the room dusting things here and there. Finally she came to the statue of Orlan and Gwaihir/Wyvern and stared at it for a moment. "Hmm...I don't remember this....ah well," and she dusted it off. After a few more tense minutes, she closed the door and left...apparently oblivious to the 3 glowing glowsticks, hole in the ceiling and rope hanging from said hole in the ceiling. Orlan relaxed the two spells he had cast and Gwaihir started coughing and sputtering. Orlan pushed him towards the rope before he could complain anymore. Gwaihir scurried somewhat haphazardly up the rope and into the hole. Orlan looked around. This night had gone perfect....too perfect. That's no fun. He looked at Wyvern's desk. On one side of the desk was a small pile of six gold coins. Orlan crept over and pushed one coin one-tenth of a centimeter to the left. Then, sniggering evilly, scurried back up the rope and into the hole, pulling up the rope and sealing up the hole again. Of course he forgot the glowsticks....but hey...one-tenth of a centimeter is a small distance, and this way he covers his back. Orlan cackled madly as he poked Gwaihir in the foot several times as the two of them crawled back to his office. "Excellent night," Orlan said to himself.

Lady Celes Crusader posted, Orlan posted, High atop the highest tower (I could easily make that longer and 'higher' you know), Orlan, Sexy Sexy Man, Elder of Bards and all things Chocolate, lies on the roof, bathing in the sun. His mirrored TMoT Shades (only $78.95, kids! Bug Mom and Dad today!) shine in the blistering sun. Orlan lies contented, nearly napping, when suddenly there comes a tapping....tapping on the roof next to him. It's Wyvern, the almost dragon-ish dragonite Elder. Wyvern begins speaking quickly. "Orlan! Orlanorlanorlanorlanorlan! We gott move quick! You see we....I mean there was a....and the thing is with....but you have to understand....and the thing with the guy....but you have to help....." Orlan's head bobs up and down while Wyvern goes off on his triade. "I know that *I'M* not the criminal....but everyone else thinks its me and I don't know, but I got stuff stolen too and then they came after me and where like ROWR! and jumped over me and started beating me and up and Yui came back and said some things while I wasn't paying attention to since it probably didn't mean anything and then they did some more things and went looking for clues, but I don't think that that'll do any good I mean we haven't found anything so far but that dosen't mean anything since this thief is obviously very smart and very good and I think I need to run now...maybe I should go looking for the thief myself...YEAH...isn't that a good idea?!" Wyvern bluts all that out in one breath, very excited and antsy. Orlan's head continues nodding up and down. "Yeah! You're right Orlan...that is a good idea....I'll be Wyvern Holmes....I can do it! I'm good enough, smart enough...and doggonnit people like me! Thanks Orlan!" With that Wyvern takes off after the unseen thief. Orlan's head nods up and down for a little bit longer until he suddenly stops, looks up and around, and takes off his ear phones. "Hmmm...Rapier?" Orlan's Fallen Dominion, lying on her stomach on the other side of the roof, her wings up and out in the air so her back can get the sun to bronze it. "Mmmm...yes, sir?" "Was that Wyvern just then?" "Yes, sir." "What did he want?" "There appears to have been a string of thefts, sir. The Pen members have had things stolen." Orlan leans forward and looks down over the edge of the roof down on the frantically searching members of the Pen scuttering all over the ground. "What's been stolen?" Orlan's expression turns from indifferent to an evil smile on his face as Rapier lists off the stolen items. Orlan lies back down on the roof and chuckles to himself. Rapier lifts herself up on her elbows and looks over at Orlan, her SHINY "TMoT Fan" shades being...well extra SHINY. "Sir?" "What are they looking around for?" "Yui suggested they look for clues." "Clues? The thief wouldn't leave any clues..." "Sir?" "My pants were stolen." Rapier looks oddly at Orlan...very oddly. "You mean the pants that where already missing?" "That I do, Rapier. And right now the thief has them." "How...?" Orlan cracked his neck and then rolled over onto his stomach to tan his back. He gave Rapier one of his insufferable grins. "Because I know who the thief is and how the thief works. I didn't get to Elder JUST on my good looks, y'know." "Then why don't you go get your stuff?" "Well...two reasons. Number one...it's my duty as Elder to make sure people expand thier creative juices. A good suspense/mystery gets the conspiracy juices flowing in everyone...and nothing sets aflame the desire to write like flowing juices..." "What's the other reason, sir?" "Hmmm?" "What't the other reason you don't get yours and everyone else's stuff, sir?" "Oh....well... It took me forever to 'lose' those pants...I don't want to go and find them again. How am I going to use the 'I lost my pants' excuse on Tzimfemme if I have my pants on?" Rapier looked at Orlan with a hard penetrating stare. "You're odd....sir" "I know sweetie. It's been 15 minutes, you better turn over unless you want your wings to peel, hon." Orlan put his headphones back on and promptly went back to baking himself to a nice golden shine...mmmm SHINY.

Voice over: Further into the dungeon, as they call it... The camera moves down a solitary dark hallway with torches along the sides burning with the blue flames of hell instead of the florescent lights that where all over the rest of the building. As the camera slowly moves down the hall a door at the end of the hall becomes larger and larger. The door is chained shut and locked with several padlocks and suck. Across the middle is a plaque that says "Voice Over" with the line "Jechum's a wussie" spraypainted over the plaque. Voice over: ...and down to the voice over room. Due to the absolute success of Jar Jar Binks, the completely CGI (Crappy General Insect) character of the Star Wars movie, the Lords of the Pen decided to add thier own versions of it, but they promised to spare no sense in getting the best voice actors for the job. They're in recording now...let's sneak in. Brutus? A large Ogre with one horn steped out in front of the door and with his massive fist busts down the door, breaking it inward. Inside, Orlan, chief sound engineer, Chief Pimp, Chief Sexypants, CFO and all around Sexy Sexy Man, stares back at the camera. He's sitting in front of a Midas Heritage 3000, with his headphones around his neck. He was dressed in light clothing and the heat in the basemest made him look kinda wavy. Orlan: You know you could have used that door. The camera pans to the left where another door stood that clearly said "Mixing Room: Use This Door Moron". The camera pans back to Orlan who's now talking through the mic to the sound booth. Orlan: Okay guys that was good, but the line is "But wait! Necromancy is outlawed!" not "But wait! Necrophilia is corpse fu-"... well you know what I mean. The camera focuses in on the window into the booth where the Squirrel Duo are perched atop some chairs with thier headsets on and scripts in front of them. Orlan: Let's take it from page 9,734. From Tzimfemme's line "I can't let you use my gummie machine with evil intent" and remember, casual swearing is only funny the 6th or 7th time. Don't make me kick you two off the payroll and under an oncoming bus. Muffled replies came back as reply. The camera started pulling out of the mixing room and back down the hallway Voice over: Truely, this is a work of the highest proportion. The big names attached to this movie outshine even Stevie Wonder...

Orlan Veteran Posts: 823 Registered: Mar 2000 posted May 17, 2000 09:10 PM -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Orlan could feel Angelica reaching out for her mana. From the look on the Ascendant Mage's face, Orlan lost all faith in the Shroud of Darkness that surrounded his kingdom. "Nos!" Orlan shouted to his General of Vampires. "Sunlight!" Nos currently had his teeth sunk into the neck of an unsuspecting Angel when the warning came. Instantly Nos morphed into a bat and most of the other Vampires followed suit. However, some didn't do it fast enough. Angelica released her spell and shattered the Shroud of Darkness that surrounded Orlan's kingdom. Sunlight poured in on his troops. Those Vampires who were not fast enough to morph were suddenly turned into dust. The rest of the bats turned tail and flew back to their sanctuary, per Orlan's pre-made orders. If you can't fight, run and come back for vengeance later. The shattering of the Shroud of Darkness was not the worst of it though. The spell Angelica shattered it with was the Gate spell. With a flash of light as bright as the sun, the clouds parted to reveal the Gates of Heaven floating in mid-air. From somewhere a bell pealed and the gates swung open. Denizens of the Heavenly Hosts poured out from the gates and headed straight for Orlan's army. "Ah, hell," Orlan said. *Isope! Get your wraiths over there and see if you can distract some of those things!* Orlan ordered the wraith. Isope reacted immediately and a cloud of mist began forming in front of the oncoming Gated creatures. However the forward momentum and speed of those Ascendant creatures was too great for Isope to be completely effective. His Wraiths stopped a few Angels but the Archangels tore though their ranks like they were not even there. Orlan swore again. *Zombies! To the new ones, and FAST!* Eegh sent out the command to his troops. Immediately the Zombies responded, the Dominions they were facing lost their priority and all Zombies began flying back to the gated troops. However the Gated troops where no longer Orlan's main worry, the thirty Dominions that were summoned behind the Liches where. Orlan had concentrated too much on the Blood Curse spell and he did not feel anything from when Angelica cast Descent. *Larry get the hell out of there!* Orlan commanded, His order was lost since the Dominions began slaughtering the Liches quickly. A hundred fell, and then another hundred. Liches were strong but the Dominions were their downfall. The chilling magic of a Lich was used well, yet they had a terrible weakness to the Holy power of the Dominions. Orlan was about to enter into the battle on his Liches behalf when a spear plunged down from the clouds above. The spear was very big and had an aura about it as it plummeted down towards were the Liches and Dominions where battling. Orlan reacted on instinct and recited the words from one of the Scroll of Protection from Fire that he kept in his fortress. Orlan could sense the scroll vanish from his fortress and at the same time his Liches took on a red aura about them. The spear struck the ground directly between Larry the Lich and one of the Dominions that was trying to kill him. When the spear hit the ground it exploded in an inferno of fire. A wall of flames spread out from the point of impact, frying all the Dominions around it while the Liches were protected from the fire by the power of Orlan's artifact. The remaining Dominions that were among the Liches did not have time to respond to the attack since five Red Dragons burst from the clouds, heading straight for the Angelic Beings. With them was a familiar figure to Orlan. Lan-Gaer, a Dragon Knight, came flying down after the Red Dragons. Dragon Knights had special armor that contained a smaller version of Dragon Wings on them to allow them to fly with the Dragons they control. These were Bulldog's reinforcements to Orlan. "Perfect timing as usual," Orlan said half to himself. The Red Dragons went immediately for the Dominions and made short work of them, however Orlan's Liches were in no shape to be useful, only a handful remained alive. Thankfully Larry and Linda both survived. "Lan-Gaer! Can you get rid of those Archangels over there?!" Orlan shouted to the Dragon Knight as the knight retrieved his spear. Lan-Gaer grinned at Orlan as he usually would, since he had no tongue. The Dragon Knight nodded and launched himself into the air, wings flapping in the wind. Lan-Gaer started flying straight for where Orlan's Zombies and Wraiths were tangled with Angelica's Gated troops. Things were looking up for Orlan, or so he thought. Orlan cried out in agony as a terrible ripping feeling overcame him. The Necromancer fell to one knee and sorted out his mind as swiftly as he could. The ripping feeling was from Rapier. Orlan instantly zeroed in on where she was. She was fighting some Dominions and one got in a lucky hit that rendered her unconscious. What was worse was that she was now plummeting quickly to the forest below her. Orlan felt uneasy about something and his suspicions were correct, the forest was not his. It was made up of Treants, Angelica's Treants and Rapier was falling right for them. Orlan had two options and one was impossible since the Red Dragons were too far away to be of any assistance. That left him with one option, and he took it. Orlan played one of the final aces he had slid up his sleeve. Forming the pattern of it in his mind, Orlan cast Corruption on the Dominion that had just struck Rapier. The change was instantaneous. The Dominion's wings melted from white to black and Orlan felt another presence in his mind. One he gave a simple order to. *GET HER!!!* Orlan shouted in his mind. The new Fallen Dominion did not waste any time and went into a dive for Rapier. The newest addition to Orlan's army moved like an eagle going in for the kill and was able to catch Rapier before she hit the Treants. However Angelica was aware of this exchange and she guessed that Orlan was connected to his Fallen Dominions. She ordered all of her troops to kill the two Fallen Dominions, and all her troops took the order seriously. Every creature under her control stopped fighting and took off towards the two Fallen Ones. Orlan tried to shout out orders to his troops but the dual drain from another Fallen Dominion in his mind and the toll that Corruption took on him would not let him. Orlan fell down to both his knees, as helpless as a newborn Dryad. He could do nothing right now as drained as he was. This was why he had Generals. *Get Rapier and yourself out of here!* Orlan could hear Kraylin send out the order to the new Fallen Dominion. The Succubus also leaned down and put her arm around him. *Lan-Gaer, get your Red Dragons to stop anything that tries to follow them.* Orlan now heard Eegh send out this order. *Isope! Move you wraiths and mingle in with the Treants. Get them confused.* Larry sent out that order. *Will do!* Isope replied. *Claw, get in the way of the Unicorns. Swift! Drek! Help Ikeal out with the Archangels.* Orlan kneeled there, listening to his Generals shout out orders and move the now diminishing remnants of his army into the positions they should be. However it was beginning to be all for not. Orlan felt Angelica summoning her power again. Another Gate was coming. Orlan gritted his teeth and summoned what power he had left to stand up. He made it half way on his own but Kraylin helped him up the rest of the way. Orlan felt the energy flee from his body once more and he nearly fell upon Kraylin. Kraylin took Orlan's chin in her hand and turned his face to her own. She moved in like she was going to kiss him but she stopped short, her mouth partly open. Orlan felt someone's lifeforce being forced into him. Kraylin must have had some poor fool's soul in her. Orlan was completely grateful. "Thank you," Orlan said, whole-heartedly. Kraylin said nothing just leaned against Orlan. The Necromancer lifted his head up to look at Angelica. The Ascendant witch was summoning the mana to cast Gate another time, Orlan could feel it being done. Orlan had no sane options left. His army was being desecrated. Lan-Gaer was an enormous help but it would not be enough. Larry and Linda were the only Liches left, and both of them were haggard and nearly dead, again. Orlan's army was a skeleton of what it was before. *Generals to me, all else scatter. Lan-Gaer, thank Bulldog for me.* Orlan sent out the order. His army knew what he was going to do; it had happened before. All of Orlan's Generals moved to him, the rest of his troops took off to the forests or simply crumbled away into nothing, waiting for later when Orlan would again raise them from their eternal slumber. Angelica watched this with interest. "Conceding finally, Orlan?" Angelica said to him. Orlan closed his eyes and said a prayer to Magic, the Mother of All and Nothing, one of the Gods whom Orlan had many good dealings with. Orlan was rewarded by the Goddess filling up his nodes to their full capacity again. Orlan reached for the power within him. His last spell. His last resort. His last stand. Orlan repeated the words in his mind. *I sell my soul to you who can grant me the power to destroy all the fools who stand before me.* Orlan released the spell Contract of the Soul. Immediately, a sheet of paper and a pen appear floating in front of him. Orlan knew the routine. He and he alone was the only one who could see this contract. However this time, Orlan did not spend the time and read the contract. "Why don't you just give up to me, Necromancer. You who dabble in the Nether Arts is destined to be ousted by the righteousness of the Light," Angelica preached. Orlan growled. "No, you bitch," Orlan said. "I choose my Destiny!" Orlan grabbed the pen from where it was floating in front of him and signed the contract, signing over all the people in his country for the power to defeat Angelica. The contract disappeared in a flash of light and a young man in cloak appeared at Orlan's side. Orlan realized something was different about this Devil Prince. Orlan knew what it was too. The Devil Prince turned to Orlan and smiled. "You accept the terms of the contract you signed?" he asked. "If you get her out of my lands, I do," Orlan said. The Devil Prince smiled and turned to Angelica. An instant later the Devil Prince was standing next to the Ascendant Mage. She reeled back as the Devil Prince leaned in to her ear. Orlan heard what he said as if they were spoken into his own ear. "Too bad," the Devil Prince said. The Devil Prince disappeared again, this time appearing in the middle of the battlefield, facing Angelica. The Ascendant Mage lost concentration of the Gate spell she was going to cast and stared at the Devil Prince. Then, the Devils came. The battlefield darkened as if the Sun was eclipsed, and it was. Thousands upon Thousands of Devils appeared from nowhere, blanketing out the sky in a dark, murky black. Orlan put up a shield around him and his generals, focusing all of his powers into it. Orlan was not sure that it would hold. The Devils came down from the sky, ravaging anything and everything around them. Whatever it was, it became destroyed. A few Angels were able to fight back and kill a few Devils, yet wherever a Devil was killed, nine more took that one's place. The Devils were hungry for death, and heading right for Angelica. Angelica summoned what few Dominions she could around her and decided that she could no longer win this battle. She used the last resort of Ascendant mages. She sprouted wings and began to fly off. Orlan watched her fly off, Devils in pursuit. Orlan would have continued watching her yet Devils erupted out of from the ground around him, flinging stones and gravel around, and some of that hit Orlan. The last thing the Necromancer remembered was his arms around Kraylin and a number of large stones falling on top of him. And then, silence. * * * "I think I found them," Orlan heard a gruff voice. "You didn't find em, I did!" answered another voice. "Will you two shut up…we all know I found him," said a third voice. "The Old Man will get us if you three don't stop arguing and just get him out of there," came yet a third voice. Orlan saw a peak of light in his range of vision. Then, slowly, the peak became larger and larger until Orlan saw a face. An ugly, scaly face. The face of a Hydra. "AHA! I found him!" the face cried out. Suddenly the face was knocked aside and replaced by a different face. "No you didn't I did!" said the new face. Orlan knew this face. It was Griben, one of Jomo's Hydras. "Griben…" Orlan said, coughing. "Shut the hell up and get the out of here!" "Right away, Sir!" the Hydra replied. The light soon became larger and larger as the Hydra dug Orlan out from under the rubble. Orlan could feel Kraylin, who was leaning against him, stir slightly. Orlan then heard a familiar voice. "Griben, move, let's do this quickly," Jomo's voice said. Orlan knew what was coming and again he recited the words from the Scroll of Protection from Fire. A red glow surrounded Orlan as Jomo cast a smaller version of Inferno on the rubble around him. The rock and dirt melted instantly, exposing Orlan and Kraylin to the world around them. Standing around them were about a hundred or so Hydras. Standing at the front of them was Jomo, a grin on his face. "You dead yet?" "Not a chance," Orlan replied returning the grin. "I'm to young to die, you know." Jomo laughed. He turned up and yelled to the Archangels that were flying around up there. Moments later, Teraphin came floating down from the sky, riding a Flight spell. "Yo, Scry Rat," Teraphin greated Orlan. "Good to see you're still ticking." "You're not the only one," Orlan replied. Teraphin nodded to Kraylin. "A pleasure as always," the Phantasm Mage said. Kraylin smiled at him. "So what's the body count?" Orlan asked. Jomo and Teraphin looked at each other, and then back at Orlan. "None," Jomo said shrugging. "None?!" Orlan asked, astonished. "Not a one, every person in your lands is accounted for," Teraphin answered. Orlan simply stared. The Devils took no people, simply came and left. Then Orlan realized why, and laughed out loud. Kraylin looked at him. "You knew who that Devil Prince was, didn't you?" she asked him. "I'm sure now who it was," Orlan said chuckling. From the sky dropped Rapier and the new Fallen Dominion, Oraen. Orlan looked at them both. "Well at least you two survived." "All your generals did too, well…almost all of them," Rapier replied, sadness in her eyes as she remembered the sacrifice that Mins had committed. Orlan looked around and saw his generals sitting together. With them was Tzimfemme, actually clothed this time, tending to their wounds with the aid of Rydia. Orlan looked back at Jomo. "What about the Whitie?" Orlan asked. "Ah her," Jomo said. "Well apparently she was able to get away from your Devils, yet she encountered a problem when she got back home." "What problem?" Orlan asked. "Buzzrock," he said with a smile. "Buzz was there and BBQed her right up. Totte and Wise Man where on the front line. She was a nice land farm, seeing as how she was cleaned of troops and all that." "Ah wonderful," Orlan said, laughing. The thought that she did not get by unpunished made him feel better. Orlan looked up at the Sun, burning high in the sky and sighed. "Well what do we do now?" Kraylin asked him. Orlan looked back into Kraylin's eyes. Strange yet lovely green eyes. "We rebuild…" * * * It's Done!! [This message has been edited by Orlan (edited May 17, 2000).]

Orlan Veteran Posts: 823 Registered: Mar 2000 posted April 19, 2000 07:42 PM -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh lookie there's more... * * * He did so just in time too. Turning, he saw Torra about to plunge his sword into Drek, who was lying on the ground, defenseless. "Now you die like you should have done all those years ago," Torra said. Orlan tried to fire off a Mind Blast but he tried to cast it too quickly and the spell fizzled. He was about to try again when Swift got there first. The Dark Elf leapt at the White Knight and kicked him solidly in the arm. Torra was a big man but that was enough to distract him from killing Drek. Instead, Torra raised up a gauntlet and grabbed hold of Swift's ankle. He then slammed her into the ground, hard. This time Torra raised his sword to stab down on Swift. The Dark Elf saw the sword coming down and closed her eyes for the inevitable. However, instead of stabbing Swift, Torra stabbed Mins. From out of nowhere Mins has come flying at his top speed. And the Sprite did what he needed to do. Torra's sword was now lodged completely through the Sprite General's chest, the tip of the blade an inch away from Swift's face. For a moment nobody who was involved moved. Torra stood perfectly still. Swift lay beneath Mins, her face froze in a look of shock. Both Orlan and Angelica stood still, watching open-mouthed. A drop of Mins blood trailed down Torra's sword and dropped onto Swift's cheek where it rolled down like a single bloody tear. Suddenly, Mins grabbed a hold of Torra's sword and with a yelp of pain twisted it in his body so that the blade was level with the ground. Mins then beat his wings as hard as he could. The Sprite flew upwards, taking Torra's sword with him. Torra could not react in time since the Sprite moved faster then he ever could, and he was knocked off balance with his sword hand in the air and his other hand off to the side. This was all the opportunity that Swift needed. With a scream of anguish and pain, the Dark Elf Magician unleashed a fireball at the White Knight. The fireball hit him at point blank range with unbelievable force. Torra was blown back, his sword hand lost his grip and Mins lost whatever strength he had left and both the Sprite and the sword fell to the ground. Torra tried to regain his balance. His armor had taken the brunt of Swift's attack and the Knight was left relatively unscathed. Yet Torra could not regain himself before Drek ran him though from behind. The blade of Ragnarok stuck out from the White Knight's chest. Drek stood behind Torra; the Dread Knight's eyes had a terrifying look of vengeance in them. "This time," Drek said very softly. Orlan was sure only the two Archmages and Knights could hear what Drek was saying. "This time I will not stop with just your eye." With that, Torra's body erupted in pitch-black fire. Demon-Fire. The fire spread to Drek also, yet the Dread Knight paid it no heed. Torra was meanwhile writhing in agony as the Demon-Fire burned away his very body and soul. The Demon-Fire then flared up one last time and then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving nothing to indicate that Torra had just been standing there. Nothing, that is, except the White Knight's sword which was still lodged in Mins' small body. Drek stabbed Ragnarok into the ground, letting it stay there. The Dread Knight walked over to the Sprite and kneeled down beside him. Being extremely careful, the Dread Knight extracted the sword from Mins. He then took off his cape and laid it over the little body. The Dread Knight stood up and fixed Angelica with a gaze of intense hatred. Angelica returned it with one of her own. Shadows encompassed Orlan, Eegh, Kraylin and the Sprite on her back as Orlan teleported them to where Mins lay. "Kraylin, Aylis," Orlan addressed the Succubus and Sprite. "Get Mins, Eegh tend to Swift." The Dark Elf was on the ground near Mins, crying softly. The three of them nodded and did what they were told. Orlan walked over to where Ragnarok was. The Nether Mage reached out his hand and grabbed hold of the hilt, lifting the deadly weapon from the ground. For anyone other than Drek the sword would destroy the wielders soul. Orlan was unaffected, though. The Nether Mage held the sword upright before him. He reached out and pressed his hand on the blade of the wicked sword, cutting into himself. Orlan's blood trailed down the edge of the sword. The Mage then focused on the spell Blood Curse, charging mana into his blood. The blood on the sword became black in color and attached itself to the blade. The sword was given an eerie glow. "Drek," Orlan said. The Dread Knight turned and looked at Orlan, the gaze from his eyes would have matched Orlan's Gaze of Death any day. Orlan held out Ragnarok to Drek. "Go," he commanded. "Gladly," Drek replied. The Dread Knight took his sword from Orlan and stalked off, back into the battle. Orlan turned back to Swift who was attempting to go after Drek, her own short sword drawn. Eegh was trying to hold her back, "What good do you possibly believe you will be with that ankle, eh?" Eegh asked the Dark Elf. "You go out there an all you'll accomplish is the loss of another General." "I will not die, Eegh!" Swift exclaimed. She broke free from the Zombie's grip and spun right into Orlan who stood behind her. Orlan reached out and snatched up the Blade of the sword that Swift carried. He raised the blade so it was level with both their faces. Orlan then saw in the Dark Elf's eyes what she planned on doing. Orlan clenched his hand around the blade of the sword and cast blood curse on it as well. "Listen to me," Orlan told her. "Die out there and I will make sure that your soul never receives peace." That was a threat that Orlan could back up, and Swift knew that. The Dark Elf took her sword and ran off, following that path of death Drek left behind him. "Are you sure that was wise, Sir?" Eegh asked. Orlan turned back to Eegh and saw Kraylin cradling Mins small body in her arms. Her face had a somber look to it. Orlan disliked that look. "It would have taken too much power to keep her reigned in, Eegh. Besides, she deserves to avenge Mins death. That is the way of Elves, let them be." Orlan teleported the group back to where they were before. Orlan turned to look at Angelica and gauge what her reaction had been. She did not look happy. It was then that Orlan remembered what Uriel had told him once. "Don't piss off an Ascendant Mage. It's like giving a crossbow to a blind man. He's not really threatening since he can't see anything, but if he hits you, you're still screwed." Uriel had lots of other advice, yet Orlan simply ignored him when he talked most of the time. However he was mad he only now remembered this tad of advice. * * * Still more...

Orlan Veteran Posts: 823 Registered: Mar 2000 posted April 05, 2000 06:25 PM -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Orlan turned his attention back to the Pegasi that where now in the process of being slaughtered by Nos' Vampires. Angelica's Archangels were nearly to the Vampires. "Ikeal! The Archangels!" Orlan yelled to the Orc. Ikeal raised his muzzle to the sky and let out a gluttonal roar. A moment later a storm of arrows flew out of the forest at the Archangels. Ikeal's Orcish Archers shot arrows non-stop from their hidden locations in the forest. The arrows would not necessarily do the most damage to the Archangels, yet they were enough of an annoyance to give the Vampires time to retreat and regroup. Angelica's Pegasi attempted to continue the battle with the Vampires but were stopped again when the Dark Elf Magicians stepped out from the forest. The Dark Elves slung fireballs and flame arrows at the Pegasi, decreasing their numbers rapidly. "Unicorns," Larry the Lich said from beside Orlan. The great Necromancer turned to look at what Larry had just said but heard them before he was fully turned. This thundering was ten times the magnitude Orlan had felt when the Knights charged. Unicorns were fierce creatures to deal with. Yet this was why Orlan had the Hell Hounds. "Julian, get to those Unis before they get to Isope and Claw," Orlan ordered the Fire Elementalist. Claw and his Skeletons had entered into the fray shortly after Isope and his wraiths entered into the battle. Julian nodded and took off towards the Unicorns with Grwear and his Hell Hounds following close behind. A small band of Knight Templar broke out of the Satchel of Mist's power and charged for the Hell Hounds. Julian saw this and his hands went up in front of him. He started tracing an arcane sigil in the air; wherever his finger traced, a line of flame appeared. When the symbol was done Julian forced his hand through it and pointed at the Knight Templars. Julian's body took on an aura or red-hot flame that surrounded him completely. This aura of flame moved suddenly and lashed out towards the Templars in the form of two whips made from fire. Arcfire was just one of Julian's many deadly spells. Orlan turned to Larry. ""Lars," he said to the Lich. "Strike out at the Unis when they get in your range." "Aye, Sir," Larry replied. With Linda in tow, Larry the Lich started off after Julian. "Why does she keep the Dominions and Angels back?" Kraylin wondered out loud. Eegh answered before Orlan could. "Because she's afraid of us," the General of Zombies said. "My Zombies haven't moved an inch since this battle commenced. Angelica sees this. She's not a complete fool like many Ascendant Mages are. She knows how dangerous we are in large numbers, especially to the Doms. That's why she sent the Pegasi and Knights in first, to try and distract us enough to let the Archangels through. If the Archangels could get though to us she would have sent the Doms after Larry and his Liches and the Angels would have been sent after the Mind Rippers, the only two creatures that don't have to be in melee with something to destroy it. The Rippers have no weaknesses to the Holy power of the Angels and Liches simply have the raw power to fear. She's not too stupid." Eegh was a genius aside from the fact that he was dead. Nearly all of Orlan's "sane" strategies came from this Zombie. Eegh had won Orlan countless battles, some with Orlan's army having as few as sixty casualties. "Wow," Kraylin said, a little awestruck. "It's a shame you don't remember who you were before you died, Eegh." Most Zombies, after they're raised from the dead, lose their memories. However, some, like Eegh, retain a portion of their memories. Luckily for Orlan's sake, Eegh retained the knowledge of strategy, yet he could remember nothing of his past life. "Eh, it's in the past," Eegh replied. "May I make a suggestion, Sir?" "Your council is always welcome, Eegh," Orlan replied. "Have my Zombies and Haik's Ghouls attack with Murray and his Rippers as back up. You still have a Carpet of Flying left over," Eegh said. Orlan broke out into an enormous grin. "Do it," Orlan said. "Haik!" The General of Ghouls was over in a moment. "Yesss, Sssir?" Haik hissed. "Go for the Angels," Orlan said. Haik flashed his sharp teeth in a large grin. "Gladly," the Ghoul replied. He went off to where the Ghouls waited patiently. Orlan turned back to Eegh who was now taking Orlan's Carpet of Flying and flapped it at his troops three times. On the third time, the carpet shattered into nothing. A moment later, every single Zombie and Ghoul was floating above the ground, granted with the gift of flight from the carpet. All sans Eegh. Orlan was not about to risk him getting killed. *Zombies, Dominions. Ghouls, Angels. Now Go!* Orlan sent the order out to his troops. The Zombies and Ghouls took off quickly, flaunting their newfound flying ability. "Master..." Rapier began. Orlan knew the unasked question. He was loathe to allow it but he knew he had little choice in the outcome. Either he let her attack or she would anyway. "Go," Orlan said. "But remember, if you get in trouble, retreat or I'll make you retreat forcibly." Orlan's answer to his completely hollow threat was a simple nod. With two flaps of her black wings Rapier was off into battle, heading straight for the Dominions. Orlan now stood with Kraylin and Eegh, watching the battle below. Drek and Torra were locked in an eternal struggle, white against black, light against dark, good against evil. The two auras of the battling knights were strong enough around them that none came within a certain distance of them both. However, all around them Isope and Claw were making short work of the pathetic Knights. Nos and his Vampires had joined them and were bleeding the Knights dry, literally. Swift and her Dark Elves and Ikeal and his Orcs had obliterated Angelica's Pegasi and had moved on to help Julian and Grwear with the Unicorns. Murray and his Mind Rippers, along with some of the now airborne Zombies, were keeping the Archangels at bay. The rest of the Zombies and Haik and his Ghouls were in a flying melee with the Angels and Dominions. Things were going Orlan's way. It was then that a Sprite flew up to Orlan at an amazing speed. The Sprite stopped just short of Orlan's face. "Archangels!" the sprite yelled out. A Sprite's yell, however, was not much. Orlan looked at the Sprite oddly. "She's an Ascendant Mage, of course she has Archangels," Orlan replied. "Nononononono," the Sprite replied quickly. "ImeanherallysentArchangelsandthey'renearlyhere!" the Sprite pointed her small arm behind Orlan. The Nether Mage spun around quickly and Kraylin and Eegh followed suit. Indeed there were Archangels coming. Orlan could sense about three thousand of them. The Sprite saw the Archangels again and got scared. She let out a small yelp and flew behind Kraylin, sticking her head over the Succubus' shoulder to see. "Damn! This is not what I needed," Orlan said with anger in his voice. Indeed this was not a good thing for Orlan. His forces were all occupied already. Orlan was the only one who could deal with them right now. The problem was not that they were too much for Orlan to handle, Nether Mages could take on tons more deadly creatures. The problem was that this would be a distraction to Orlan. If he needed to react to something on the battlefield, he might not be able to. It was then that Eegh laughed, a hollow sound that chilled Orlan. "What?" Orlan asked. "The Archangels are all male, Sir," Eegh replied, a big grin on his face. Orlan looked to the Archangels and confirmed this; they were all male. Orlan also laughed, although when he laughed, all on the battlefield heard it also. "You find something amusing, Dark One?" Angelica asked, her voice resonating all over the battlefield also. "Of course," Orlan replied. "Y'know if you would like for your ally to keep his reinforcements, you should send em back." Angelica laughed scornfully. "In your dreams," she replied. Orlan grinned. "My Dreams is right," Orlan said. He reached out to his mana supplies in his nodes. He then reached out with his hand and grabbed hold of Kraylin's wrist. With a flourish of his Necromancer's Cloak, a cloak given to all that are chosen to be Nether Mages, Orlan threw his cloak over Kraylin as he unleashed the spell Dream of Seduction. He closed his cloak and focused the spell through it. With another big flourish Orlan flew open his cloak. Tens of thousands of bats flew out from his cloak. The bats immediately went after the approaching Archangels. It was then that Kraylin stepped out from Orlan's cloak, the Sprite still on her back. Kraylin had a seductive little smile on her face. "Sisters!" Kraylin called out. Suddenly there were no longer tens of thousands of bats flying at the Archangels but rather tens of thousands of Succubi. The Succubi would convert the Archangels, "persuade" them to stop fighting, or kill them off. Whichever way they did it, Orlan now had no threat from Angelica's backup. He could now turn his attention back to the ensuing battle. More to come...

Orlan Veteran Posts: 823 Registered: Mar 2000 posted March 30, 2000 12:26 PM -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ohh there's more Orlan Triber S1 Sexy Sexy Man * * * Orlan stood at the head of all of his legions. Rapier was on one side and Isope was on the other. His other Generals all stood before him. Larry the Lich and his second in command, Linda the Lich, stood with Eegh, General of Zombies. By them stood the trio of Murray the Mind Ripper, Claw and Haik. Down from them, Ikeal stood a little bit away from Julian and Grwear. Orlan noticed the charred earth around the Elementalist and Hell Hound. The Dread Knight Drek sat atop an enormous black warhorse with Kraylin behind him. Nos was flying around above them all. "Where's Swift?" Orlan asked his Generals. "And Mins?" Mins was the Sprite Captain; they were too small a group to have a General. "Coming towards us right now," Nos said from above them. He pointed off in the direction that the Ascendant army was coming from, even though the army was too far off to see still. Orlan saw Swift and Mins moving towards him at a very fast pace. Mins flew at a normal speed for a Sprite, which was just under a blur, while Swift trailed behind him with two more Dark Elves behind her. Surprisingly enough, the Dark Elves were keeping pace with Mins. The group reached the edge of one of Orlan's forests that was on the edge of the battlefield. Swift yelled some orders to the other two Dark Elves and the immediately detoured, disappearing into the forest. Mins and Swift arrived before Orlan moments later. Swift was slightly winded and hurt. She had a cut across her forearm and was bleeding a bit. "Trouble?" Orlan asked her. Swift nodded but it was Mins who answered quickest. "TherewerePreacherstryingtoconvertyourpeople," Mins blurted out at an amazing speed. He wasn't staying still either. He was constantly zipping around. "We stopped most of them when her White Knight appeared. He nearly slaughtered me but Mins knocked me out of the way in time. I only got this scratch," Swift said indicating her arm. Mins immediately went red and became speechless, something rare for a Sprite. Mins stopped zipping around and landed. He stopped next to Julian, where the Sprite looked like a newborn compared to the giant Fire Elementalist. "Great job Mins!" Orlan exclaimed. Mins simply went a deeper shade of red. Sprites were easily embarrassed. Rapier walked over to Swift and reached out to the Dark Elf's arm. A shadow encompassed the Dark Elf's arm and when it went away the wound was gone. "Thank you, Rapier," Swift said. Rapier nodded back. "'Her' White Knight?" Orlan asked. "Angelica is the mage's name," Swift replied. "Regardless, no mercy for those who attempt harm to my kingdom," Orlan said. "Pardon?" Drek said. All turned to look at him. "Angelica, you said her name was?" the Dread Knight asked Swift. The Dark Elf nodded. "Was the White Knight you fought a man with no left eye?" "Yes…" Swift said. "How did you…?" "I took that eye from him," Drek said. His disposition went from calm to irate quickly. "His name is Torra, and he is the very definition of a White Knight: arrogant, fearless and utterly stupid." "Old friend I take it?" Larry the Lich asked. Drek snorted contemptuously. "We were both Knight Templars once," Drek explained. "During one attack on a Nether mage, some of the mercenaries the Ascendant mage had hired decided to have some fun with the people of the Nether mage's realm. They started raping a young girl. I was about to stop them when Torra stopped me. " 'They wish to live in the dark, let them die in the dark,' he told me. Then he smiled. It was that smile that made me act against my Templar training." "Oh?" Orlan asked. "I immediately went after the mercenaries. I am positive that Lucifer was watching when I did this for when I struck down one of the mercenaries I was morphed into that you see me as today. My armor bled until it was black. My sword turned into Ragnarok," Drek patted the sheathed sword that was at his side. The hilt of the gigantic sword was made of Angel bones. "And I became Drek, the Dread Knight. It was Torra who ordered my death after I had killed those mercs. I had to kill half my former legion and take Torra's eye before I was able to escape." "What happened to the young girl?" Kraylin asked from behind him. "Apparently, the Nether mage's Verdant ally saw what I had done and was impressed," Drek said. "She took the girl from me and told her she'd protect her and give the army that was after me something to deal with. After that I believe that the girl became a Verdant mage and took over for the mage that saved me." "Not 'appy end now," Ikeal told the Dread Knight. "Dead Wite Nite be 'appy end." "I plan on it," Drek said. He turned to Orlan. "With your permission, of course." "Don't care for rapists," Orlan said. "And I care even less for those who stand by and let it happen. And I care the least for people who attack my kingdom. You have my permission and blessing to kill that creature." Orlan smiled. A small sprite whizzed by Orlan and whispered something in Mins' ear. Mins shook off his blush and nodded. "Thearmyisjustabouttoreachthehill," Mins blurted out. "Legions ready!" Larry the Lich roared out. Orlan had a sudden idea. *All legions get ready but do not attack, that is an order,* Orlan sent out the thought to all his troops. Orlan grinned evilly. "Uh oh," Larry said. "I know that grin," Isope said. "You're going to do something stupid, aren't you sir?" Larry and Isope had been with Orlan longer then all the others. They knew what the plan was without ever hearing it. "Utterly," Orlan agreed. "Rapier, Drek, you two move on my signal. Everyone else, you'll know when." A shadow engulfed Orlan, Rapier and Drek, sans his horse and Kraylin, as they teleported to the middle of the soon to be battlefield. Orlan reached out for the mana that still remained in his nodes. Orlan had stole Teraphin's Hallucination spell one time and copied it down before sneaking it back. Orlan had fine-tuned that spell by mixing it with another. He made it so that Hallucination worked on a smaller scale. He casted this spell on his entire army vanished, including Rapier and Drek. To any onlooker it looked as if Orlan was alone. "Is this wise?" Orlan heard Drek's voice. "Not at all, now shuddup and let me have my fun," Orlan said with a grin. "Well let the fun begin, Master," Rapier's voice said. "Because here they come." Rapier was right. A moment later the Ascendant mage's army crested the hill. Orlan looked over his opponent's army and whistled. Dominions, Archangels, Angels, Unicorns, Knight Templars and more made up her army. It was larger then Orlan expected, but not something he couldn't deal with. It was then Orlan something he couldn't deal with. It was then Orlan spotted Angelica, sitting atop a white horse, clad in golden armor. She even looked arrogant. Orlan caught a glimpse of a one-eyed Knight behind her. "Oh dear, I have guests," Orlan said. He didn't speak loud but his voice carried to the ears of all of Angelica's troops. "I see you wised up and decided not to fight back against the righteous light," Angelica replied. Orlan kept a tight reign on his anger. A very tight reign. "Oh dear me, no," Orlan replied. "I simply wanted to cut down on my casualties." "So you intend to face an entire army alone?" Angelica said then laughed. "Of course I am," Orlan replied. "I'm not going to let some wide-hipped, fat-assed girl with a small chest come into my kingdom and try and take my land because she feels self-conscious about being uglier then an Orc. In fact, the only reason you're even attacking me is because Sex Kitten blocked your attack last week. You thought she'd be a good prey but not only did she block your attack, but she also is ten times the woman you are. I feel sorry for her, being so beautiful when ugly people like you are around." Orlan felt so pissed off right now, it was good to get his anger out. And it worked too. Angelica barked out orders to her troops. "Dominions," Rapier said into Orlan's ear. She was right. Fifty-some Dominions started flying towards Orlan, moving very quickly. Orlan's plan was working perfectly. This was nearly half of her Dominions. Orlan again reached out for the mana from his nodes. This time, he'd kill off the Dominions. Orlan waited until they reached a point close to him, and then Gazed at them. Dominion after Dominion fell dead. One by one Orlan picked off each Dominion, until there was one left. That Dominion kept on coming. It neared Orlan and raised its sword to strike. "Rapier," Orlan said. He smiled as the Dominion was about to strike. Rapier wings leaped out of the hallucination and surrounded Orlan. The Dominion's blade stopped before it struck Rapier's wings. True Dominions could never strike another Angel, ever. The Dominion was confused, but he was unable to recover in time. Drek stepped out of the illusion and sliced the Dominion in half with his wicked sword. Rapier stepped fully out of the illusion and flapped her wings once so that she was floating just above Orlan. Drek stood up and looked at the army. "Oh my," Orlan said to Angelica. "It seems I forgot to disband these two. Silly me. If I forgot to disband these two I must have forgotten to disband these other two million also!" With that Orlan dropped the illusion spell over his army. Orlan's army appeared from nowhere. Armed and Dangerous. "Heh, too bad for you," Isope added. "Templars attack!" Angelica shouted out at the top of her lungs. The tens of thousands of Knight Templars and Knights under Angelica's command began their attack. The thundering of hooves accompanied their attack run. "Well?" asked Larry the Lich. Orlan turned to Swift. "Do you have the net ready?" Orlan asked her. Swift grinned mischievously, a rare feat for her. "Ready and waiting, Sir," Swift replied. "Then put it up and let's catch some Knights," Orlan said. The net Orlan referred to was a Dark Elf spell that created a magical wall that disintegrated anything that touched it. Swift put her fingers to her mouth and whistled loudly as she ran forward to meet the Templar advance. An instant later five shadows joined her in her advance. These five shadows slowly solidified into five more Dark Elves. The five new Dark elves started chanting softly as they surrounded Swift. The General of Elves raised her hand and came to a halt. The other five Dark Elves scattered off to the sides of Swift so that they formed a long line before the Knights advance. Orlan heard Swift shout out orders and all the dark elves leveled their hands at the Knights. Suddenly a wall of dark purple fire shot up from the ground. The first ranks of Knights that slammed into the wall were disintegrated instantaneously. This slaughter continued for a moment before the Knights were able to slow down to a halt and stop. Angelica wasted no time however and she sent a legion of Pegasi out. The flying stallions could easily avoid the wall of flame. Orlan simply grinned. "Nos!" he yelled out. The General of Vampires flew down by Orlan. "You rang?" Nos asked with a smile that showed off his fangs. "Clip some wings," Orlan said nodding his head at the oncoming horde of Pegasi. "Yes, Sir," Nos replied. He floated up and turned back to his troops. A few thousand Vampires floated in the air, lounging about without a care in the world. Nos said something to the group in a language Orlan knew he'd never understand. All the Vampires smiled and took off after Nos, flying at the Pegasi. Angelica reacted just as Orlan thought she would. Ascendants became predictable after a while. Angelica's Archangels rose up and sped to intercept the Vampires. "Sir, he's coming," Drek said from beside Orlan. The Nether Mage turned and looked at his Dread Knight. The warrior had a stern look on his face and his eyes burned with hatred and disgust. Orlan knew who he was talking about, for Orlan himself saw the one-eyed White Knight charging down the battlefield to the wall of flame. Angelica casted Sword of Light, which left a ripple in the ambiance around her. The spell was focused on Torra's sword. Orlan had to give Angelica credit. Using Torra's holy sword and Sword of Light spell to try and shatter the wall the Dark Elves made. "Then go, and if you can, kill some Knights while you're down there," Orlan told the Dread Knight. Drek nodded and mounted his horse. He turned and faced the Ascendant army. His eyes closed momentarily and breathed deeply. When he opened his eyes again the Dread Knight had an unholy aura about him. The very sight of him gave even Orlan a chill. Yet Orlan knew that he had nothing to worry about from the Dread Knight. Drek drew out Ragnarok and raised the wicked sword over his head. The Dread Knight let out a vicious war cry that Orlan amplified by casting the simple spell Fear. The entire Ascendant army jolted to a halt momentarily. A few groups of Knights turned to run away yet most of the other units shook off the Fear and continued with their attack. Drek set off at a gallop to meet Torra. Meanwhile Torra charged full at the wall of flame before the Knights. The White Knight and horse were engulfed in a ball of white-hot light that blinded those around them. The ball hit the wall of flame and shattered it instantaneously. The light faded down and Torra spurred his horse on to attack the Dark Elves that were now lying on the ground writhing in pain from the backlash of the broke spell. Orlan spared a moment to be worried about Swift but it proved to be pointless. Drek would meet Torra before he could reach any of the elves. However Torra was no longer his concern since the Knights began their charge anew. "Kraylin, Satchel of Mist," Orlan said. The Succubus made a small satchel appear from nowhere and handed it to Orlan. "Isope, go after the Knights, the honor less way." "Gladly, Sir," Isope said. Orlan undid the strings on the satchel and dumped the contents out onto the ground. What fell out was a small bit of mist. Focusing his power, Orlan magnified this mist and aimed it at the Knights. The ground around the attacking Knights suddenly became misty and foggy. The Knights couldn't see much but they continued on with their assault. Isope took the cue and the semblance of black fog that was his body dispersed into nothing. The ten thousand other wraiths under his command did the same. They did not completely disappear, since Orlan could still see them each as a small blotch of black fog, but they made themselves into something that was nearly impossible to hit. The Wraiths then spread into the mist that was created from Orlan's satchel. They then struck out and started taking out the Knights. The Knights had no defense against the Wraiths since in the fog and mist they could not tell what was Wraith and what was simply mist. Many Knights would strike at the air around them, trying to hit anything. Then the Knights would be struck down without even knowing where their attackers were. * * * There's more in a day or less...

Orlan Veteran Posts: 823 Registered: Mar 2000 posted March 30, 2000 11:21 AM -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yes there IS more! * * * Orlan again started searching out his other Generals. He did not really have to personally do it this way since incoming attacks spread through the ranks like wildfire. Yet he wanted to make sure his troops were high on morale. As he thought of this another asset of his walked around the corner. Julian Romeo was a Fire Elementalist. An unbelievably large Fire Elementalist. Next to Julian, Orlan looked about as big as an Imp. Julian towered over everyone in both height and raw physical power. He wore only black breeches yet was never cold. The very air around him was almost too hot to stand. He was not loud and boisterous though. In fact he was more like a monk, constantly meditating trying to become closer to nature and the element of Fire. "Julian, perfect!" Orlan said. Julian stopped and bowed to Orlan. "I need to talk to the Hounds, would you mind joining me?" "Yes, Sir," Julian replied. Orlan could have gone alone but having someone else keep the heat away from him was easier, and Julian did not need to worry about the heat himself. Orlan smiled and headed around a corridor. He went down a few flights of stairs to the basement of the fortress. He stopped in front of a glowing red door. It was glowing red since it was extremely hot. Julian closed his eyes and a red shield appeared in a bubble around them both. Orlan forced the door open with his will. Inside was an inferno. A constant fire that had no chance of ever being put out. This was referred to as "The Kennel" since it was where the Hell Hounds stayed when not in battle. "Grwear!" Orlan cried out into the inferno. The wall of flames was too thick to successfully see anything. Then movement could be seen. A large Hell Hound walked out from the fire, unharmed and itself on fire. The Hell Hound sat back in front of Orlan and Julian. *You called?* came the thought from the Hell Hound. Hell Hounds had no way to speak normally, but they were able to use telepathy. It posed no problems for a mage of Orlan's caliber. "Feel like burning some Angels?" Orlan asked the Alpha Hound. Grwear gave what was the closest thing to a Hound's grin. *Always,* he thought. *However we are a little pressed for numbers. That last Siege took over half of us. Would you mind?* Grwear was asking if Orlan would summon more Hell Hounds. Orlan grinned. "No problem," he replied. Orlan stared into the Hell Hound's inferno for a moment concentrating. He sent his thoughts out to the thousands of magical nodes throughout his kingdom. He could feel them pulsing with power. He eased out his magical powers and absorbed some of that mana. Orlan felt a momentary rush of pressure as his body became a conduit for all that power. His eyes flashed with light as he enacted a spell to open a portal between his realm and the Realm of Fire. The fires swirled and formed a black portal. From this portal burst forth hundreds of Hell Hounds into the inferno. Orlan felt the spell slipping so he let it go, closing the portal and returning his eyes to normal. *Much appreciated,* Grwear nodded to Orlan. Orlan smiled back. "Of course. Grwear I'm putting Julian in charge of you, I assume there'll be no problem with that?" Orlan said. Grwear growled a bit but agreed. "Good then I'll-" Orlan broke off suddenly feeling sick. Julian reached out an enormous arm to steady the mage. Orlan had no need for it since he instantly steadied himself again. He was still connected to the nodes of his kingdom and some of them just shattered. "What is it?" Julian asked. "Someone's using Mana Vortexes," Orlan replied. He turned to Julian. "Just get ready." Before Julian could answer Orlan stepped into the shadows. He moved from the basement of his fortress to floating above it. A simple teleport spell. No effort, just results. He was angry that someone would try and sap his nodes. He searched out for the perpetrator by following the trail of magic left behind by the teleporting of the Mana Vortex. He found his culprit. A Phantasm Mage sat in a pentagram focusing his power. He was too far away to be some random attack on his kingdom. Orlan guessed this was one of the Ascendant's allies. Apparently the Phantasm mage had no idea that Orlan had found him. Orlan grinned to himself. Once again he reached out to grab hold of the mana he still had left in his nodes. He focused back on the trail left by the Phantasm mage. However this time Orlan focused on the mages kingdom and not the mage himself. He focused on the farms and towns throughout the kingdom. Death… Orlan summoned the power from within him. The power given to all Nether Mages. He had the ability to judge whether things live or die. He was a master or all things black and dark. He was the subject of the stories that mothers used to scare their children into submission. He was what nightmares were made of. …and… Orlan focused on the spell he had used so many times before. The raw power of the spell would frighten mortal man, as most things do. Orlan's eyes did not glow this time since the spell was his own, he need not exert more force then necessary. Orlan focused the fury of his spell onto the Phantasm mage's kingdom. …Decay. Instantaneously, half of the farms and towns and people were suddenly destroyed. Farm fields spontaneously caught on fire, houses collapsed, citizens dropped dead. The spell destroyed anything that was alive. A horrid spell, yet it's cost to the casted was great too. After only a little bit a tad more then half the mage's kingdom lay in waste. This was when Orlan cut his connection to the nodes and stopped the spell. He erred however. The amount of power he put into it was too much of a drain. He was suddenly falling. He did not fall far when he felt himself being caught. "You alright, Master?" came a voice. Orlan saw wings. Black wings. Rapier had caught him. Rapier, a Fallen Dominion, once a proud Angel in the ranks of heaven yet corrupted by Orlan's dark power, had caught hold of Orlan, not letting him fall further. Now she had loyalty to only Orlan. Right now Orlan was thankful for it, too. "Yeah I'm alright, just a little spent," Orlan said. "Drop me down on the roof of that tower over there if you would." Orlan pointed over to the highest tower on his fortress. Rapier swooped down, her black wings flapping gently in the air. She set Orlan down on the roof of the tower and let go of him. Orlan fell immediately on his back, breathing rather hard. He did not want to admit it but the Death and Decay spell took a lot out of him. "Are you sure you're alright, Master?" Rapier said. Orlan closed his eyes, focused a bit, and then Orlan exhaled and looked up at Rapier standing over him. Rapier was like any other Dominions. She had long blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She also had the added beauty that all Dominions had. However, Rapier had one outstanding feature that showed she was most certainly not a true Dominion anymore. She had pitch-black wings. Rapier was the lead Dominion of an Ascendant mage that attacked Orlan about a year ago. That attack was a day after Orlan had purchased the spell Corruption on the Black Market. Orlan was anxious to try out his new spell, and did so on Rapier. However, he was not ready for the toll the spell took. Corruption took the black, darkened soul of the mage who casts it and infuses it into the Angel that is targeted by the spell. The toll on the Angel is miniscule. Aside from the black wings they change loyalties from the Ascendant mage summoned them to the Mage who casted the spell. That and their personality becomes more human and less divine. The mage who casted it, however, it eternally linked to the very soul of the Angel. "A double edged sword," Orlan's brother Soran had once said. "The Angel will do anything including die for you but in return you feel all that happens to the Angel." Soran was right. Orlan felt anything and everything that happened to Rapier. From the tugging of hair when she combed it, to being burnt by Dragon-Fire. The small feelings he has trained himself to ignore, yet he feels wounds she receives in battles, and they hurt. "Master?" Rapier's words snapped him out of his flashback. He looked up and Rapier was standing over him, leaning on the pole of her enormous scythe. Her eyes looked worried. "Yeah, I'm fine," Orlan said. "Just caught myself reminiscing." Orlan got to his feet and stretched out. He was feeling better after the Death and Decay spell. Orlan turned and looked ay Rapier in the face. "Don't do anything foolish today in the battle. I can't afford to have you die today." "Your wish, Master," Rapier said, bowing. Orlan felt it was a mocking tone. Orlan was right. Yet Orlan could do nothing to stop her, he was not her father. He was too young and sexy for that. "Har har har, little lady," Orlan chuckled. It was then Orlan sensed his General of Wraiths before he saw the General. Black fog came together on top of the roof. The fog solidified into a man-like shape. Two glowing red eyes appeared on what could be considered the face. "Isope, tell me good news," Orlan ordered his General. "I killed a man last night," came the fog's reply. Isope was never a good comedian. "How about the troops?" Orlan asked. "Ready and waiting, Sir," Isope replied. He pointed out to the fields. Out there was Orlan's entire army, a few million soldiers. A sea of black. A sea of Death. Orlan's sea. "Well then, let's go kill some holiness," Orlan said. A shadow encompassed Orlan, Rapier and Isope. Their next destination was the head of the army. * * * Okies, that's the prepping, now it's time for some WAR! Orlan Tribe Member S1 Sexy Sexy Man

Author Topic: Orlan's Story Orlan Veteran Posts: 823 Registered: Mar 2000 posted March 30, 2000 11:18 AM -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Eeek Alright that was fun, this is the repost of the sotry I've posted on s1 and a1. I dunno how long one posting can be so eh. Orlan Tribe Member S1 Sexy Sexy Man "What the hell is this?!" Orlan roared. He was lying on his back on a table, his head over the edge of the table. He was staring at a sheet of paper that explained, step by step, the Verdant spell of Weather Summoning. Granted the sunlight would probably conflict with the Shroud of Darkness, but population would rise, the rites that are preformed daily take up too much time and resources. However it didn't seem like he could figure it out. Verdant mages tended to explain everything in extremely technical terms, something to do with being in touch with nature. "Next time I think about dropping 300 million for a spell, let it be for a good quality meal," Orlan said to himself, not expecting an answer. He received one regardless. "Actually, Sir, I believe the cooks do exquisite work," came a voice from the doorway of the library. Orlan sat up and turned to see his General of Elves standing in the doorway. Swift had been with Orlan for roughly 4 years now and she had never been a disappointment to him. He recruited her a while ago on one of his trips into the mountains of his kingdom. Many Dark Elves lived in the mountains, however they were suppressed by the land elves that ruled over them. When Orlan took that land from a Verdant he realized how much of an asset the fool Verdant was missing out on. He immediately extended greetings and protection to these Dark Elves and in return they have served him excellently for four years. Swift was no exception to anything of the Dark Elves. Her long white hair was always held back by a magical gold ring Orlan and pillaged from some fool. It was pretty, Orlan had short hair, and he just figured she'd enjoy it more then he would. She never seemed to take it off and it clashed with her black leather armor. She was a very alluring dark skinned beauty, but then again Orlan believed all women are alluring. That was one of his big problems. "So how may I help you today, General?" Orlan asked. Swift reached into the pouch at her side and took out a crystal ball. Her hand was surrounded by a dark blue glow as she levitated the ball to Orlan. Swift was also the best Elven Magician Orlan had ever seen. The crystal ball floated over to Orlan and he snatched it out of the air. He looked into it and saw a good view of a kingdom he was planning on attacking. The crystal ball confirmed his suspicions: the Phantasm mage had far too many air elementals. "Well looks like we have a new target, you agree?" Orlan asked Swift. "I concur, Sir," Swift replied. She always was formal. "Excellent," Orlan said. He focused on the crystal ball and it destroyed itself. "Larry," Orlan called out around him and in his mind. A momentary flash of darkness was accompanied by Larry the Lich, Orlan's General of Liches, standing beside Swift. Larry was a special lich for his body was not completely destroyed like most Liches. He still had his hair and most of the skin and hair on his head. However he had a black scarf around his face and nose that hid his lack of a jaw. Like all Liches Larry had no eyes, just empty blackness where his eyes should have been. Larry turned and nodded his head to Swift. Swift replied in kind. "Sir?" Larry asked as he turned back to Orlan. "Get the army ready, we're striking out tomorrow," Orlan said. "It may be sooner then that, there's an army heading towards us," Larry said in his cold, calculating voice. Orlan's mind came back to full alert with those words. He stared Larry right in the face. "Are you sure they're coming to our lands?" Orlan asked. "It is an Ascendant army," Larry replied. Orlan started swearing up a storm. He was in the part of the continent where a large group of Eradication and Verdant mages lived, so whenever an Ascendant was spotted, it was known whom they were going after. "Send out the Sprites, they can get there and gauge the army's strength and get back in time to report," Orlan said. "And ready your legions, you also Swift." "Of course, Sir," Swift replied and sped off in a blur nearly to fast to register. Larry nodded to Orlan and disappeared. *And stay away from the Dominions this time Larry, we suffered too many losses last time,* Orlan sent out his thought. *Aye, Sir,* came the reply. Orlan decided that he should go rouse his troops as well. He rushed out of the library and caught hold of one of his Sprites that was flying to join his brethren, his small wings flapping wildly. He redirected the sprite to fly to Bulldog's lands and ask for help from him. The sprite flew off quickly. Bulldog was a good ally and Orlan knew he would get some help, he just hoped it would be fast enough. Orlan ran down the halls of his fortress to the War Room. There were always a few Generals in there. He reached the door and nearly kicked it in. In the War Room, as expected, were three more Generals. Claw, General of Skeletons, Haik, General of Ghouls, and Ikeal, General of Orcs, were all playing a game of dice when Orlan burst in. "Ey, boss, wat wrong?" Ikeal asked. His language skills were lacking but he was a terror on the battlefield. Two axes hung at his sides and he wore a necklace that was made of Angel feathers. He was a dangerous Orc despite his clumsiness. "We got an army coming for us," Orlan said, "Some poor fool thinks this Nether Mage is going down easy, how's about we show him he doesn't get any land without a fight, hm?" Ikeal grinned and growled. "Ready the armiesss?" Haik hissed the question. Ghouls were known for their ability to paralyze those that saw them, and Orlan figured that the hiss was not normal but simply to add to the fear factor. Orlan was so used to them that he never thought twice about the aura of fear most of his creatures emitted. "You bet, Haik, but avoid any walking trees if you see some, understand?" Orlan ordered. Haik nodded. Claw stood up and walked by Orlan nodding to him. Claw never spoke, yet that was typical for a Skeleton. They rarely spoke, it took too much effort. Claw, however, knew the routine, for he had done it many times before. The other two Generals followed suit and went to go round up their legions. Orlan left the War Room and started searching for others he needed. He passed by a window and glanced out into the sky. The Shroud of Darkness that surrounded his kingdom was still up, yet it never completely helped against the Ascendants. In the field in front of the fortress, Larry the Lich stood conversing with Murray, General of Mind Rippers. The Mind Rippers were not the largest unit, yet they were invaluable against the Verdant mages that wandered into Orlan's territory from time to time. Orlan smiled to himself and then continued walking down the hall. His walk came to a halt before a large door with ornate carvings on it. He paused and reasoned the time of day. It was about sundown. "Eh, good enough time," Orlan said to himself. With a push he opened the great doors. The room inside was a large, windowless room, dimly lit by candlelight. This was the Vampire Room. "Wake up," Orlan ordered. Moans, groans and slight movements were his response. "What is wrong?" came a voice from Orlan's left. Standing under the candlelight was Nos, the General of Vampires. He always was the same: silk shirt, black pants, black hair tousled and red eyes glowing. "We're going to be attacked, rally your troops," Orlan said. He paused and looked around the room at the sleeping Vampires. "Or maybe wake them at least. I'll block out the sunlight for you." "Thank you, Sir," Nos said. He turned around and started waking up his companions. Orlan backed out of the door and shut it. He started to walk down the hall when he felt a presence behind him. Arms snaked out around Orlan and he felt a cool body press against his back. "What about me?" whispered a seductive voice into his ear. At the same moment a large pair of bat-like wings closed around him. Kraylin, the General of Succubi, bit gently on Orlan's ear. "Did you forget about me?" "Yeah, as if you would let me," Orlan laughed. Kraylin was the only succubus who appeared the first time Orlan casted Dreams of Seduction. For some reason she did not return to her realm after the duration of the spell, but rather chose to remain with Orlan. Whether it was because she liked him, found him amusing or simply was waiting for the best moment to steal his soul, Orlan did not know. Nor did he care, for she was good company. "But I didn't want to waste mana summoning your sisters if I didn't have to," Orlan explained. "Sure, use that old excuse again," Kraylin said. With a flap of her wings she flew up and over Orlan, landing directly in front of him. Orlan was happy to see that she was somewhat clothed. She had a thin strap of leather that covered her chest, barely, and she had another sort of skirt-like strap of leather over her waist. The natural way for a succubus is to be naked but Orlan wanted the males in his kingdom to actually get some work done so he made Kraylin wear something. She was one of the main reasons that all the humans who worked at the fortress were female. The other reasons for that were not as high caliber as that one, so Orlan only reminded himself of that one. "It's not easy being irresistible, you know." "Yes I know, I hear that from Teraphin all the time," Orlan said. "Now then, you can do me a favor, go find Drek for me and tell him I want him on the front line." Drek was a Dread Knight, and he had earned his name. He was the most feared Dread Knight in nearly all Terra. He cost Orlan a hefty price to hire, but he has been worth every last gold coin. A certifiable Angel-killer, he someone still has control over his human soul. "It's simply a job," Drek would always say as he stood in his room caring for the finches that braved Orlan's country. Drek carried a wicked, serrated blade, which was stained red in the blood of Angels. Yet this Dread Knight took care of these tiny birds as if they were his own children. Orlan had confided in Kraylin that the two billion plus gold was cheap for a soul like that. Kraylin seemed to have a deep respect for the Dread Knight. "Your wish is my command, oh great and powerful Orlan," Kraylin said in a slightly mocking tone. Before Orlan could do anything she had disappeared. Orlan grinned to himself. "It's never a dull moment, is it?" Orlan asked the air. The air had no reply. * * * But wait...there's more [This message has been edited by Orlan (edited March 30, 2000).]

So, I'm cleaning up my room and come to my bookshelf (which takes me 67 days to clean since everytime I take down a book I have to read it at least once) and I reach up and take down a big pile of papers and started looking through it and lo and behold, I find Orlan's Story....the origional copy (meaning the copy that I printed out and wrote and scribbled all over ) And you know what....it was friggin good. So here it is, so future generations can benefit in my revelance of insanitistic masochism.... Or something like that.

Is good, is good....no worry.... I do have some wits about me that finals have not beat out of me

It be done!

Wait wait wait.... You mean.... Peredhil's a dude? ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh shi- ::Runs out the door::

Did she just call me a Hippie?

Through the sheer glass I see her, Standing there, her back is all I see, Through the sheer glass I see her, And then I realize, with her I want to be, With my heart beating I attempt to free her, I try to break her from the glass case, With my heart beating I attempt to free her, I slam my fists against it, desperate to see her face, I cry out, yearning for my voice to be heard by her, All I want is once to hold her body to mine, I cry out, yearning for my voice to be heard by her, To free her I'd sell my soul, and pay any fine, It is then the realization settles into me, about her, I fall to the ground, torn...bruised and battered, It is then the realization settles into me, about her, I fully understand that her glass prison cannot be shattered, I fall in pain to the ground before her, Tears cloud my vision and fall to my hand I fall in pain to the ground before her, Realizing all that keeps her from me is a wall of sand, With a heavy heart I stand and gaze at her, I place my hand against the glass wall, With a heavy heart I stand and gaze at her, I fight back the tears and the urge to cry and ball, Resolved, I turn and go to leave her, In doing so I am shown what I faced, Resolved, I turn and go to leave her, I turn and see that truth....that I am the one...encased. Orlan

...Or Minta go Bedtime NOW! Whatever floats your boat... “No ifs, ands or butts, young missie, Rydia told me that you go to bed now, you go to BED!” Orlan said as he tucked Minta into bed. The little girl sniffled at Orlan. “No that’s meanie!” Minta cried out. She flung her arms in a slight tantrum but stopped as Orlan’s stone gaze fell upon her. She gave a small frown up to Orlan, on the verge of tears. Orlan was not equipped for this at all. The Sexy Sexy Man sighed once. “Well, we can’t do anything about your bedtime, but as long as you’re IN bed, Rydia should continue to let me see Tzimfemme without castrating me.” Orlan shook his head slightly and finished tucking Minta in. He bent down and kissed the sweet little hellion on the forehead. “Promise me you’ll be good, honey.” “Tell me a bedtime story then!” Minta said, clapping his hands together. Orlan raised his eyebrows and looked slyly at Minta. “A bedtime story?” he said sounding speculative and joking a little. “I lead a pretty boring life, I don’t know many exciting stories.” “Liar, liar pants on fire! Tzimfemme has told me stories about you!” Orlan’s gaze shot around to Minta again. “Uh…what does she say?” Orlan said, his interest now peaked. “Tell me a story and I’ll tell YOU what she said!” Minta said, bargaining. Orlan laughed out loud. “Oh you’re a little manipulative…..ah well…I guess I can tell one story…then out with the gossip, k?” Minta nodded to Orlan. Orlan pulled up a chair and sat down looking down at Minta. Orlan stroked his chin and pondered for a moment. “Well, this story is called ‘The Zombie’s Adventure”,” Orlan said. “Yay!” Minta said. Orlan smiled down at her. “Yup, this is a story about the Zombie King called Rob….Now Rob was a happy zombie who ruled the wonderful zombie world, and he was happy for many reasons. But, the wonderful zombie world was not all happy now….for there was an EVIL Ascendant mage who didn’t like the happy zombies…his name was…uh…SCHMENDRICKE!” Orlan stood up and yanked the chair out from under him and spun around. AS he spun his black cloak melted away and before Minta stood an ugly old white mage in a long white robe. He looked down and growled on Minta, and she pulled the blanket up to her eyes, scared of the evil one. “ ‘Zombie’s can’t be HAPPY! Not as long as they enjoy their lives without the U! I’m not going to let them live without being Zoumbies!’ cried out Schmendricke. But Rob was not going to go along with Schmendricke’s plan and call himself Roub. So what do you think Roub did?” Orlan asked. “He went looking for sparklydragons!” Minta yelled. “That’s right!” Orlan said as he spun again, becoming an amazingly well groomed and good looking Zombie. “ ‘Oh no no no,’ Rob said, ‘I’m not letting some yahoo come in here and add U’s to everything! I know, I’ll find the queen of the Sparklydragons! She’ll know what we can do!’ and so Rob went in search of the sparklydragon queen. He braved the many perils that he faced until he finally arrived at the land of the sparklydragons. The sparklydragons brought him forth before the queen….do you know who the queen was?” Minta looked wide-eyed in wonder at Orlan and shook her head quickly. Orlan grinned and said in a low voice, “Minta…” Minta’s eyes shot open and her mouth dropped open. Orlan’s fingers flicked and he spun out a web of magic over Minta. Minta’s clothes changed into regal ropes, and a tiara of diamond-studded spraklydragons appeared atop her head. Orlan, still in Rob Zombie form, dropped to a knee in front of Minta. “ “Oh wonderful queen of the sparklydragons!’ cried out Rob, ‘Help me please, only you have the power enough to stop the evil Schmendricke! Only you can drive his evil U’s from this place….will you help us?’” Orlan took Minta’s hand into his own. Minta, mouth still agape, nodded furiously. Orlan took Minta into his arms and spun out the web of magic more and more. The room changed into a starry sky and Orlan started flying through it, with Minta in his arms. Behind him flew thousand upon thousand of sparklydragons. Minta looked over Rob/Orlan’s shoulder and waved her scepter at the sparklydragons and they turned and spun to her will. She giggled and clapped her hands together, causing some of the sparklydragons to smack into each other. Orlan/Rob took Minta and her legions of sparklydragons down to Schmendricke’s castle, finding the evil Ascendant mage in his two bedroom, upstairs loft in the middle of the ghetto. “ ‘We’re here to stop you and your evil U’s Schmendricke!’” Orlan cried out at the apparition of Schmendricke which stood before them. The evil Schmendricke laughed. “Youu’re never gouing touou get away with anything stupid! I shall rule this land and all the zoumbies will fall to me, fourever!” With that he cast out a spell, sending millions of tiny “U”s out at them. The sparklydragons all flew to protect their queen, being struck by the various “U”s, morphing into sparklydragouns. “No!” cried out Minta, outrage dancing across her face. “Minta! Only you can stop him…only you know how!” Orlan cried out from behind her. Minta thought for a moment and then a look of recognition danced across her face. She reached into her regal robes and pulled out something, holding it high. It was the only power in the world that could defeat the evil “U”s. A Pixy Stick! “No!” gasped the evil Schmendricke. Minta tossed out the Pixy Stick, the small crystals of pure unadulterated sugar slammed into the evil line of “U”s, stopping in, a large flash of power struck out in every direction as the waves clashed. Though the “U”s were still winning. “Put all the power you can into the SUGAR, Minta!” Orlan cried out in Rob’s voice. “Save the Zombies!” Minta closed her eyes and put all the strength she could muster into the wave. A small spark, and then an incinerating wave of light shot out from the two waves as the sugar won the battle and engulfed the evil Schmendricke and all his “U”s, sending them into the oblivion (Europe where they use those stupid “U”s for some god forsaken reason…). Rob/Orlan ran up to Minta, catching her just as she fell down from exhaustion. “Oh thank you, Queen of the Sparklydragons! You’ve saved us all!” Yet Minta was out light a light. Orlan grinned and picked her tiny form up and let the web of magic fall. The room returned to it’s original form, and Orlan walked over and tucked Minta into bed. When she was dreaming snugly, Orlan bent down and kissed her forehead. A small, quiet laugh caught his attention. He turned to his left and Tzimfemme stood in the doorway. Orlan flashed her a grin. “I guess I’ll have to find out what the gossip on you was later then,” he said. Tzimfemme sauntered over to Orlan; his attention glued to her every move. She reached out and took hold of his cloak, and pulled him to her. “I can always *show* you what the “gossip” is…” She said, as she let go of him and sauntered out, hips swaying as hypnotic as ever. Orlan watched for a little bit after she has left for their room. He then stood up straight, grinned widely. “It’s good to be the king…”

Actually, the key to debating well, unless you're debating to convince, is to piss somone off without actually looking like you're trying to piss them off. You want to make them lose thier cool while keeping yours, which will lead them to slipping up and making mistakes. Doing little things, such as repeatedly using your opponents name when you debate is one of many tricks that a debater can use towards this end. Debating to convince is another matter completely. It is the hardest kinda to accomplish. In fact, the only way to convince is if the person you're debating to has no opinion, or is unsure of thier opinion, or if you have some MINDBLOWING analogy, or idea and the other person is able to admit to it. When debating to convince, the best you can ever hope for is for the person to see where you are coming from. But with so many closed minded people in the world, you're better off saving your breath.