Wyvern

Falcon, An English translation of Peredhil's first pointer (which, I agree, is phrased quite strangely... ): "Act confident with your writing. It's simply better." Please, don't even bring up the subject of your flaming of Deg on the UBBs over here. This was one of the few things that jepordised your becoming a member when I was considering your application. If there's one thing we can't STAND at the Pen, it's flaming. Please, act responsibly and don't flame anyone on these boards... You know, technicaly Deg's a member of this guild as well. Although he hasn't shown up in oh... I would say... 4 months... (Peredhil refuses to kick ghosts out. ) ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Falcon2001 rapidly paces in circles around Wyvern's office. It had been nearly a week since he had submitted his application, and there still hadn't been even the faintest sign of the overgrown lizard. Falcon2001 turns to Wyv's secretary and asks for the 253rd time: "You're SURE you have no idea when Wyvern's getting back?!" The secretary sitting at her desk, who had begun to become very irritated by Falcon's constant nervous questionings, turns and spills her coffee. At the same time, the pencil she was using to write with snaps in half on the parchment she was writing on. She clenches her teeth and her eyes slightly bulge out of their sockets. Applicants had been nervous waiting for Wyv before, but this was ridiculous... "Listen..." growls the secretary "If you don't mind, I'm going to have you wait for Wyvern outside. GUARDS!" "Wha...?" manages Falcon before being clenched by two enormous ogre patrol men and promptly thrown out the window. Fortunatly, he has the luck of landing in an enormous pile of discarded IOUs that break his fall. Now outdoors, Falcon2001 gets to his feet, brushes the dust from his garments and sighs to himself. This hadn't been the best start to applying for membership... he doubted he'd get in now. Falcon is about to wander away from the abodes of the Pen when suddenly, a black Saddan rolls by and stops in front of the building. Two mobsters exit the Saddan and throw a bound and gagged Wyvern on the doorstep. Then, they hop back into their car and speed away. Noticing the overgrown lizard in distress, Falcon quickly rushes to untie his bonds... Once he's been properly untied, Wyvern gets to his feet, turns to Falcon2001, and whispers: "Thanks buddy. Listen... You never saw those gangsters throw me out of that car, O.K? If Jechum were to find out the kinds of minglings I've been doing, I'd be in deep trouble..." Falcon nods in comprehension, then murmers "Understood... But what will I get in return?" Wyvern thinks for a moment, then takes out Falcon's application and stamps it 'ACCEPTED'. Handing it to Falcon, he mutters "remember... this mobster business is only between you and me..." OOC: On a more serious note: a good poem, Falcon2001. Certainly worthy of acceptence as an initiate of the Pen. You're writing shows potential, although I would recommend learning to control it a little more. Sometimes, it can come across as highly chaotic... Congratulations, and welcome to the Pen is Mightier then the Sword. As an initiate, you should post some more stuff on the public boards. Other Pen Elders will look over your writings and decide when you will be promoted to Quill Bearer. Once promoted to Quill Bearer, you'll be sent the member pass, ect. ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Machiavelli, The process of submitting an application is rather simple. All you have to do is post some sample of your writing that shows that you have potential. This could be a story, a poem, a small segment of role-playing, or anything else thought-provoking or creative. Just try to make it good... ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 10/3/01 7:52:26 pm

Yes, I do apologize for not having processed the applications yet. I've been quite busy in RL lately and haven't had all that much time for writing. I'll try to get them done tommorow. Note that some people have waited weeks before I've gotten to their applications... ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 10/3/01 7:44:41 pm

Hmph... Just when I thought I might be able to beat Cery's bad luck, she writes me saying the hard drive of her computer has crashed and she has to buy a new one. Blast! As Peredhil said, all hail Cerulean, the queen of misfortune. ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

You live around these parts?! E-mail me: elitwack90@hotmail.com ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 9/29/01 8:59:56 pm

Somewhat irritated by the half elf's rather rude behavior and still trying to piece together the events of the previous night, Timothy rubs his forehead and begins pacing down the hall in the direction that Gyrfalcon had pointed in. Admiring the fine marble floor and textured walls of the cathedral, he eventually notices a monk exiting one of the many sleeping quarters lining the halls. Upon seeing Timothy, the monks face instantly brightens. He immediatly rushes to Timothy and pats him on his shoulders, looking him over as if they had been friends for ages... "I'm so glad to see you well!" exclaims the monk delightedly, once again examining the spots where Timothy's wounds had once been. "That Dreamer fellow is truly a master healer... there's hardly a scratch on you!" "Errr..." starts Timothy "...and exactly who might you be?" The monk stops his examinations for a moment and considers the question. "Oh! Excuse me for not introducing myself... I'm Yorick, a monk and healer residing in this cathedral. You were found late last night on the floors of the central chamber of the church half dead along with two other people. Fortunatly, you've undergone a swift recovery..." "Eh...? Wha...?" Timothy thinks for a moment, then says "come with me... I'm certain that Father Derick, the head of this church, will be glad to see that you've awakened and are well. Perhaps he'll be able to explain the situation better then I have..." With that, Yorick turns and begins walking down the corridor towards the main chamber of the church, signalling for Timothy to follow him. Shrugging to himself and seeing no better options, Tim begins pacing along after him. After having arrived in the enormous main chamber of the church, Yorick introduces Timothy to Father Derick. Having shook Timothy's hand, the old priest retrieves an object from an alter and hands it to Tim. "Do you recognise this...?" Derick asks thoughtfully. Timothy stares at the object he now holds in his hands: a blood encrusted dagger. Suddenly, the events of the previous night come back to him with the force of battering ram. Timothy staggers back a few steps, rubbing his forehead. "Jesus... $%!@..." Derick clears his throat and mutters "if you would please refrain from swearing in the interior of the cathedral..." Timothy frowns and looks towards Derick. His facial expression has now gone from befuddled confusion to dead seriousness. "Tell me..." he inquires "...why the hell am I still alive?" Derick smiles and says: "You were quite lucky... we had an incredibly skilled healer amongst are ranks, known as the Dreamer. He was the one who managed to save you." At that moment, as if stating his name had conjured his presence, the Dreamer walks into the main chamber along Gyrfalcon. Both are fully dressed and equipped, and seem determined and prepared for the epic quest that lays ahead of them. Noticing Timothy, Gyrfalcon manages a faint smile and makes a quick hand wave to him. The Dreamer ignores Timothy's presence completely. "Where is Kaylera?" inquires the Dreamer to Derick, scanning the broad span of the room "Should she not have already been prepared and ready to go at this point?" "Kaylera has already left upon her own will" answers Derick confidently. "She said that she had a few loose ends to take care of, and that she would be certain to cross paths with you later in your journey..." Hearing them speak of a 'journey', Timothy immediatly becomes curious...

Dragcor awakens from the slamming of an office door. He had been waiting for Wyvern in the recruitment office for over a month now, and had dozed off in an easy chair. Cobwebs cover him, and he immediatly gets out of the chair and quickly brushes them off. He looks towards the grandfather clock located in the corner of the room. 2:40 A.M. Whoever was coming into the office at this time certainly was arriving late... Dragcor turns towards the source of the sound only to find that Wyvern had finally arrived in his office. What a state the overgrown lizard was in. He wore nothing more then what appeared to be a trash can with holes for legs and arms, and the only item on him was the Decanter of Endless Booze. The way he staggered and swayed when he walked suggested that Wyv was dead drunk. Dragcor speaks up: "Mr. Wyvern... Have you processed my applica-" Dragcor is interrupted as Wyvern lets out an enormous belch. As he belches, a jet of flame soars from his mouth and narrowly misses Dragcor's head. "Whuzza-? Application? Youwanna application? Lemme seere..." Wyvern manages to open a drawer in his desk and takes out what appears to be a blank piece of paper. He then begins searching for a stamp. "Ummm... excuse me..." mutters Dragcor "... but I believe you should be stamping an application form... not a blank piece of paper." "Shaddup ya pink elephant!" bellows Wyvern before letting out another belch and letting another jet of flame fly. Wyv then looks at the paper and notices that it IS blank. He turns to Dragcor and murmers: "On theother han, thanks ya pink elephant! Getcha some peanuts later..." Wyvern then takes out the correct application form and tries to stamp it with the 'ACCEPTED' stamp only to miss. He misses several times and covers his desk with 'ACCEPTED' markings. Dragcor watches this in awe, wondering how such a irresponsible and uncontrolable almost dragon could be the guilds main recruiter. Finally, Wyvern manages to stamp it 'ACCEPTED'. OOC: Dragcor, excuse the latness of my response. I was undecided on your acceptance for some time. Your poetry is VERY good, but at the same time you posted a thread in the Banquet Room, "please don't reply to this", which was in essence spamming. I'm accepting you as an intiate under the condition that you will create no other such threads. Welcome. ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 9/27/01 9:59:25 pm

An enormous yawn is heard as Wyvern, the Elder of Initiates and official recruiter of the Pen, slams open the door and strides into his office. He immediatly collapses into his office chair and is about to begin his casual goofing off when he notices that Peredhil is present. Upon seeing the polite mage, Wyv immediatly sits up and pretends that he's vigorously working on a pile of documents... "I'm handling it Peredhil!" shouts Wyvern at the top of his lungs while dramaticaly throwing a number of papers into the air and showering Gaelan with documents "Just give me 5 MORE MINUTES!" Noticing Gaelen standing innocently next to Peredhil, Wyvern quickly grabs P by the collar and holds up a contract for him to read. Peredhil's eyes focus in on a specific passage that Wyvern has layed a scaly finger on. Muttering silently to himself, Peredhil reads: XVI. As Elder of Initiates, Wyvern has the authority to answer all Pen questions posed by cute girls in his office. Peredhil only has the authority to answer the questions of large, bulky men... Peredhil frowns and meets Wyvern's gaze. "Since when is this a rule? You already have Cheyenne, after all..." "Since now..." whispers Wyvern, snickering and shoving Big P to the side. Peredhil tries to regain his balance, but trips and falls into an enormous pile of unfinished documents... Diverting his attention to Gaelen and grinning an enormous grin of razor sharp teeth, Wyvern asks "Now then... how may I help you...?" OOC: As Peredhil said Gaelen, please feel free to post an application as others have. I'll be happy to look it over. ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 9/24/01 7:03:55 pm

After having looked through Signe's application several times, Wyvern places the sheet on his desk and leans back comfortably in his chair. An enormous mischeivous grin slowly spreads across his face. When Wyvern had entered the Angels of Apocalypse guild, Signe had automaticaly labeled him as her pet. But in the Mighty Pen, Wyv was Signe's superior! The overgrown lizard rubs his scaly palms together in sadistic glee... hehehe... Wyv immediatly begins making up a list of things that Signe will have to do before being accepted as an initiate: 1) Feed Wyvern BY HAND. 2) Give Wyvern daily massages. 3) Make up excuses for Wyvern's absences when he goes on 5 month lunch breaks. 4) Fan Wyvern with an enormous feather while he works. 5) Perform table dances for Wyvern in his spare time. 6) Wear only... Wyvern's ferverous writing is suddenly cut short as a dark shadow looms over the page. Looking up, he notices an irritated looking Peredhil and Jechum, who is holding what has now become known as the "Anti-Wyvern Mallet". Pointing the hammer at Wyv, Jechum growls: "Don't... even... THINK about it!" Wyvern sighs and stamps Signe's application 'ACCEPTED'. "You guys always spoil all the fun don't you...?" OOC: On a more serious note Signe, great poem! Definatly the best I've read recently. You've certainly got my seal of approval for intitiate, so congrats... ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 9/21/01 1:27:36 pm

The priestess Maria, who had welcomed Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer into the church earlier, feels a draft of wind coming from the terrible storm outdoors. Certain that she had closed the cathedral doors for the evening, she picks up the cup of tea she was sipping on and heads towards the main hall to see what is causing the breeze. Upon arriving in the central chamber, she notices the motionless bodies scrawled on the ground and immediatly comes to a halt. The tea cup she is holding slips from her grasp and shatters to a million pieces on the cold stone floor. Her horror is so great that it takes a full 3 minutes before she can scream... Maria's screams of terror echo from the main chamber throughout the entire church, awakening countless residents. Saint Derick and the 3 heros are amongst those awakened, and quickly rush towards the source of sound. Upon arriving in the central chamber, they find a bundled mass of confusion. A number of monks are tending to 3 blood soaked bodies on the ground while a few church patrons are desperatly trying to calm the priestess Maria, who seems to be in hysterics. Viewing the bodies on the ground and noticing the knife in the young adventurers chest, Saint Dericks face goes a deathly pale. Rushing to the bodies and turning to one of the monks, he exclaims: "Have you called for a medic?!" One of the monks immediatly speaks up, pointing to another monk that is closely examining the bodies: "Fear not Father... they're in luck. Yorick has practiced medicine for many years and is tending to them..." Turning to Yorick and looking over the bodies, Derick manages: "How are they...?" Yorick looks towards Derick solemnly and says: "The old man is in a state beyond repair, I'm afraid... We'll lose him any moment now. The man in the green cloth and leather armor looks like he'll pull through. So does the woman, although she risks never walking again..." Derick frowns and nods. Turning to the body of the old man, he places a hand on his head and pronounces a final prayer for him, watching as his last breaths fade away. After having declared the old man dead, Saint Derick helps the monks carry the two other bodies and set them on an alter. He tries to help treat the wounds, but Yorick assures him that he can only get in the way and that the monks can take care of things. Sighing to himself and regretting that there is nothing more he can do, Saint Derick turns from the alter and begins relentlessly pacing back and forth...

Somewhat unnerved by the Dreamers comments and hollow laughter, Saint Derick shifts uneasily in his chair. He plunges deep into thought for a moment, reflectively stroking his gray beard and considering the motives of the three heros. After an unbearably long moment of silence, he finally clears his throat, looks towards the adventurers, and speaks up: "Very well..." mutters Saint Derick, fidgeting with the holy cross dangling around his neck nervously "... your motives seem righteous. I'll tell you what I know about the legendary Pool..." Saint Derick lifts himself from his chair and suddenly points an aged finger at the adventurers: "On one condition! You must refrain from spreading this information to any other adventurers at all costs! To many warriors, the Pool is nothing more then a wives tale... but if they were to learn of it's location, the information would spread like wildfire. Soon, all of Terra would know of its existence. This must not happen." Derick directs a serious stare from one adventurer to another. "Do I make myself clear?" The three of them nod in understanding. Saint Derick nods back and manages a little smile, then turns once again to the painting of the women that hangs on his wall. "There are very few facts based upon the whereabouts of the Pool of Eternal Reflection, I'm afraid... It has been depicted primarily from myth and our limited understanding of ancient parchments transcribed centuries ago. The legend of the Pool depicts that God wanted to spread peace and wisdom amongst all mankind. Thus, he forged the divine Pool by his own blessed hand. Those that stared into the Pool were granted a moment of infinite wisdom and then peace to the soul..." Saint Derick turns from the painting and begins pacing back and forth in the room, his hands held tightly together behind his back. "Supposedly, the Pool can be found in the first religious temple ever constructed by mankind. This temple is said to be located in a place known as the 'Springs of Eden', a garden of such divine beauty that it can move even the most heartless of ogres to tears..." Derick sighs. "Alas... the tragic fault of mankind. Centuries ago, an enormous war broke out between two formerly allied colonies: the Vishari and the S'den. Details on the war are sketchy... Noone knows why it broke out. Some say that it was for possession of fertile land and others think it was for access to the mystic Pool... there's no way to be certain which hypothesis is correct. The war resulted in the loss of the location of the 'Springs of Eden'..." Derick stops his pacing for a moment and turns once again to the adventurers, looking them in the eyes. "While nobody truly knows of where the 'Springs of Eden' can be found, I have an hypothesis on the subject. There is a myth of an island far to the South East of Terra known as the 'Rainbow Vale'... An island so beautiful that most explorers cannot fathom it's natural essence. Supposedly, the islands beauty acts as a cloak of illusion, making its presence unnoticed to the naked eye..." Derick stops and thinks for a moment, stroking his beard and staring at the ceiling. He then continues: "Of course, this has not been confirmed as fact. Noone has ever found the 'Rainbow Vale'... However, a good friend of mine, a monk by the name of Jakob, assures me of it's exsistence. I would suggest that you search for him. He resides in Saint Andrews church, which is located around the outskirts of the city of Erindale. Erindale is only a short ways East of here, just South of the city of Valensia. Meet up with Jakob and tell him of your quest. Tell him that Saint Derick sent you." Derick pauses for a moment, then frowns. "I have told you what I know of the Pool of Eternal Reflection, but there is one thing I feel I should warn you about. The churches around these regions are faced with difficult times... People are beginning to lose faith..." Derick chokes on his own words for a moment and there's a short period of silence. He begins fiddling with his cross chain again... "Four churches have been burned to the ground. Utterly incinerated. As if that weren't horrible enough, they were burned while IN SESSION. Countless lives have been lost... Just recently, Saint Theodores church, near Valensia, was burnt down. That was the fourth. It deeply troubles me..." Derick stares at the adventurers with a look of concern. "Remember... don't lose faith. It may not seem important to those of your stature and power... but without faith, nothing can be accomplished. You don't have to listen to me, but just promise me you'll remember my words..." The adventurers promise. Walking up to Gyrfalcon, Derick gestures for him to bow his head so that he may endow upon him a blessing. Gyrfalcon does so, and Derick's words ring with an eerie echo: May thy sword be like that of Gaspoliner: The almighty sword of light and faith And strike down upon those who have sinned. Derick then turns to the Dreamer: May thy powers be as thy faith Steady, constant, and perfectly controled Never overwhelmed with rage. Finally, Derick turns to Kaleyra: May thy knowledge act as thy guide And lead you through even the darkest hours An internal compass of the soul. Having finished his blessings, Saint Derick offers the adventurers sanctuary in the cathedral for the night due to the storm. Leading them to their rooms, he bids them good luck and good night and heads back to his chambers to rest...

Wyvern turns to Jechum. "Gee... I dunno Jechum. What's your ruling on that?" Jechum sighs. "Yes, he's accepted..." OOC: Stale: congrats, you've been accepted as an initiate. Post a few things on the public boards of the site and the other Elders should take notice of you and promote you to 'page'. Once a page, you can fully access the member site. Good luck. ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

"Indeed..." belows a deep voice from the rear of the adventurers "Introductions would be most welcome... I take it you're the two warriors I was told would visit?" Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer turn their heads towards the source of the sound and are met by the face of an aged man in the white silken robes of a priest. He is an obtuse man with an enormous chest, a graying beard, and eyes that faintly glimmer in the dim torchlight. A holy cross dangles on a chain encircled around his neck, and in his arms he carries two copies of the bible. The most noticeable feature of the priest, however, is his fatigue. The bags under his eyes and the disorderly appearence of his hair and beard would suggest that he had not slept for days... weeks even. A smile and small hand wave on the behalf of Kaleyra dispells any doubts that this is the man Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer had been searching for... Stroking his gray beard pensively, Saint Derick speaks up once again: "Come..." he says, gesturing one hand and turning to walk back down the hall from whence he came "... the library is no place to speak of such matters. The room is large, and the echo of even the faintest whisper can resonate across the walls to the ears of eager listeners. Let us discuss what it is you're searching for in my private quarters... where we have no fears of being overheard." Having said this, Father Derick turns from the library door and begins walking back down the basement hall. Kaleyra immediatly follows him, as do Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer. After Derick and the three heros have arrived and been seated in his personal chambers, the old man slowly strokes his hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh. Turning to the Dreamer, then Gyrfalcon, Derick asks: "Tell me... how did you find out information on my knowledge of the mystic pool? Kaleyra has done many years of intensive research on the subject, and still had not known of my presence till recently..." "I'm sorry..." says Gyrfalcon "... but revealing the identity of the person who led us here would be dishonorary." Upon hearing this, Derick nods his head and lets out another sigh. There is a long moment of silence in which a faint rumble of thunder can be heard. Finally, Saint Derick raises himself out of his chair and turns to a portrait hanging on his wall. The painting depicts a beautifull maiden in an exquisite dress, who appears to be singing with countless angels. Not redirecting his gaze from the painting, Derick declares: "I'm afraid that before I can reveal information on the Pool, I will need to hear your motives for finding it... If you're doing it for geld, I'll refuse to disclose any information. Selfishness and greed are not to be associated with the Pool's divine existence..." Derick turns from the painting and once again looks towards Kaleyra, then the two warriors. He clears his throat and speaks once again: "If you would introduce yourselves and state your motives for finding the Pool, I would feel more at ease telling you of what I know. Don't try to lie to me. I am a priest, and have many times seen the face of falsitude..." Having said this, Derick looks at the adventurers and patiently awaits a reply.

After having cleaned up the revolting mess of mangled body parts that remained of Reyn's allies, Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer head out of the tavern and decide to wander the city streets for a bit. Soon, the sun begins to set to the east. Grey clouds slowly cover the sky, enveloping the city in darkness. A light, refreshing drizzle of rain starts up. As soon as the first stars are sighted in the sky, the two adventurers decide to make their way to the Felleros Cathedral in the hopes of meeting Saint Derick. On the way to the cathedral, the rain begins coming down harder and soon Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer find themselves using their hoods to protect themselves from the downpour. A soft rumble of thunder rings from the sky, and windows of several shops and homes begin shutting. By the time they've arrived at the cathedral, the two heros have become soaking wet. Gyrfalcon knocks on the enormous front door of the cathedral using the gothic doorhandle provided. The door is quickly answered by the priestess they had met earlier, who instantly recognises them and lets them in. Entering the enormous empty church, the footsteps of Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer echo loudly through the enormous religious alters and architecture. There is a flash of lightening and the empty chamber is suddenly illuminated. The stained glass windows and statues of angels shine brightly for a moment, and then fade back into darkness. The priestess quickly shuts the doors of the church and then immediatly rushes to the two adventurers. Escorting them to two of the chairs in the one of front rows, the priestess mutters: "Please, sit... You're soaked to the bone... Let me get some rags to dry you with..." At that, the priestess leaves the two adventurers alone in the huge main chamber of the church as she rushes to another room. She is gone for a short while, and when she returns she has not only rags but two cups of hot tea as well. Drying himself off and thanking her for the soothing drink, Gyrfalcon politely asks: "Where is Father Derick?" The Dreamer nods, eager to meet the priest and get this over with. "Father Derick is currently in the church's basement library, doing studies on religion." says the priestess. "I have told him of your desire to meet him, and he is expecting you..." With that, the priestess smiles and walks away from the adventurers, turning her attentions to the lighting of the candels for the evening...

"Makeing" has no 'e'. (Now I'm beginning to sound like Peredhil...) Nice poem though. ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Watching the unfortunate demise of his two allies in horror, Reyn's first instinct is to turn and run away as fast as he can. Before he can do so, however, Gyrfalcon grabs him by the collar and shoves him up against the rear wall of the tavern. The Dreamer walks up beside Gyrfalcon, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing Reyn the barbaric in disgust. Stuttering, Reyn finally manages to yelp: "Come on pointy ears..." "Gyrfalcon." interrupts Gyrfalcon, frowning. "Sorry... Come on Gyrfalcon, won't you please let me go? For old times sake...?" "What do you know about the Pool of Eternal Reflection?" demands Gyrfalcon, tightening his grip around Reyn's collar. "Nothing..." pleads Reyn "One of my allies was just looking for the Well of Souls and I thought I'd follow him. Hell... I don't even know what the Pool IS. I just..." "... thought you'd follow us and try to steal our findings?" finishes Gyrfalcon, smiling slightly. Reyn makes a nervous semi-smile back. "Well... I wouldn't call it STEALING..." Reyn looks towards the scarred visage of the Dreamer, then down at the twisted remains of his partners, and then finally back to the face of Gyrfalcon. "You've changed, pointy ears..." says Reyn letting out a little smile "I don't recall you ever keeping such shady company." "Watch your mouth..." growls the Dreamer. Gyrfalcon looks down at the ground and sighs. He had heard Reyn lie before, and this seemed to be one of the rare cases that the 'barbaric' bandit was telling the truth. Reyn had probably just overheard one of the two mangled bodies formerly his partners speak of the Pool, and had become interested with the aspect of following him there. "Shall we rid Terra of this pathetic creature?" asks the Dreamer. "No..." mutters Gyrfalcon "... he's not worth it." Upon hearing this, all the tension that had built up on Reyn's face fades. He lets out an enormous sigh of relief and begins continously thanking Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer for letting him live. "The next time our paths cross..." mutters Gyrfalcon "... you're getting the beating of your life." With that, Gyrfalcon let's go of Reyn's collar. Reyn turns and flees the bar as rapidly as possible, partialy out of embarassment and partialy because he was afraid that Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer would have a sudden change of heart... The Dreamer turns to Gyrfalcon and frowns. "Was it really wise to let him go free?" Gyrfalcon shrugs and mutters "He's harmless. Wouldn't be able to lift that bastard sword of his if his life depended on it." "Excuse me..." interrupts the bar-tender pointing to the two disfigured corpses laying on the ground "... will you be cleaning this up...?"

OOC: Indeed, the Hitchhiker's Guide series are undoubtedly some of the funniest books I've ever read... Anyway, onto the acceptences... IC: Looking from one squirrel to the other, Wyvern solemnly crosses his arms over his chest. "What's the matter? Couldn't get in touch with your boss...?" Lewis and Simon both look towards each other and then fall to their knees, groveling at Wyvern's feet. "Please, Mr. Wyvern..." pleads Simon with tears in his eyes "We need a place to stay... we don't have the geld you want, but we can pay you in acorns..." Nodding, Lewis presents Wyvern with a large bag filled to the brim with acorns. Wyvern looks through the bag thoughtfully, then says: "Gee... you guys would really give up all these acorns you've gathered just to join the Pen?" "Oh yes!" cheer Lewis and Simon simultaneously "We don't have geld, but you can have all the acorns!" "Hmmmm..." Wyvern considers it for a moment "Nope, sorry. Rejected." Yui slaps Wyvern on the back of the head and Jechum kicks him in the face at the same time. Peredhil takes the bag of acorns and dumps it over Wyv's head. Lumpenproletariat steps on Wyvern's foot for the hell of it. "You greedy little newt!" cries an enraged Jechum "Is that all you ever think about?! Geld?!" "No..." mutters a severely battered Wyvern "Geld and women..." "Well..." mutters Jechum "In this case, you're lechery won't make any difference. In the main Codex of the Pen, it's written that the doors of the Pen are open to those scholars pure of heart and in search of an abode. Particularly if they're celebrity squirrels... Yui, if you'd please read page 1347, passage LXVIII." Dragging out an absolutely enormous book, Yui flips the pages until she's reached the appropriate segment. Clearing her throat, she reads: "Passage LXVIII: segment 1. The doors of the Pen shall open, and remain opened, to those scholars who no longer have a place which they may call home. These scholars, particularly if the scholars are celebrity squirrels, shall be let into the Pen without hesitation or denial..." Yui stops for a moment and gazes blankly at the last sentance of the page, which was scrawled in an all-to-familiar almost dragonic hand writing... "... as long as you pay Elder Wyvern mucho geld and become his slave for life." "WHAAAAAT?!!!!" cries Jechum. The entire crowd gazes in fury towards the overgrown lizard. Wyvern whistles to himself innocently. OOC: Isachar, I'm accepting you as an intiate, BTW. I consider your posts to be, quite frankly, of a Zool/Haruchi ranked humor (i.e hilarious). I would accept you in the recruitment story, but I'm having way too much fun with it now... ;p We'll just have to see how the story works out... ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 9/12/01 7:46:07 pm

On a beach located on a tropical island resort near the south western outskirts of the oceans of Terra, Wyvern lies back on a hamoc gingerly sipping from an extra large hawaiian cocktail and watching as the waves roll in and out. A bikini clad beach bunny wanders up to Wyvern's hamoc and gently passes him a phone, cooing "Mr. Wyvern... it's for you..." Wyvern smiles, takes the phone, and dreamingly mutters "Hullo?" From the other end of the line, Jechum's voice rings out: "WYVERN!!! WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU???!!!" Upon hearing Jechum's voice, Wyvern franticaly jumps out of his hamoc and begins rapidly packing his bags. They had found him... he didn't know how, but at the moment he didn't want to take the time to find out. Wyvern's only concern was getting away to another island before they came to take him back to his office by force. His lunch break had only lasted three months... he wanted at least another four months off... Turning to run, Wyvern bumps into two enormous men wearing black suites, ties, and Gazelli shades. Wyvern frowns as he notices the tags on their shirts, which read 'P.I.A' (Pen Intelligence Agency). "Uhhh... h-hi guys..." squeaks Wyvern nervously. The two P.I.A agents snatch the overgrown lizard and hold him from running away. The beach bunny is about to ask what's going on when a black Sadan pulls up out of nowhere and the two large men in tuxes shove Wyvern in. The car zooms off in an enormous rush, and the beach bunny watches in awe as it fades into the distance. After the car has vanished completely, she shouts "Lousy lizard! You didn't even give me a tip!" ... 3 hours later, Wyvern barges into his office still wearing his vacation outfit. He walks up to his desk and stamps Stale's application "ACCEPTED". Turning to the other Pen members, he then mutters "Happy...?" (OCC: Jechum: Since I'm saying it, I can edit it. I normally don't curse and I dislike editing others works. ) Edited by: Jechum at: 9/14/01 12:39:17 am

Felleros... While certainly nowhere near the largest city on the Southern continent of Terra, it's never the less quite a stunning sight... The city is like a labryinth of sorts: narrowly paved side streets twist and turn around countless buildings and architecture, some of which are over a century old. Perhaps the most distinctive feature of Felleros, however, is it's population of thrill seeking adventurers. Due to it's location, many warriors find it convenient to stop in the city... whether it be for directions, provisions, or simply a place to rest for the night. Over 20% of Felleros' population consists of heroic adventurers, many of which have embarked on epic quests. Upon arriving at the city gates late that evening, both Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer were surprised when the guards thought little of their heroic appearances and let them in without the slightest bit of hesitation. The two adventurers quickly sook refuge for the night in an inn, weary from a hard days travel and determined to arrange a meeting with Saint Derick the next day... The following day, upon the break of sunlight, Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer immediatly set off to find Saint Derick. When they reach the Felleros Cathedral, however, a priestess informs them that the Saint is absent for the day and would be available by nightfall. Sighing dismally at the thought of having to wait an entire day to meet the man that knew of the mysterious pool, the two adventurers decide to head over to a bar and order a few drinks to calm their nerves. On entering the "Weary Warrior" drinking tavern, Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer are surprised to find that a wide variety of adventurers are lounging in the pub. In fact, around 40% of the people in the pub were adventurers... To the front of the bar, an apprentice mage seemed to be busy studying up on his spells over an ale. On a nearby stool, an amazon guzzles her beer with amazing swiftness, ordering another one immediatly after. Then, a man dressed in barbaric attire sitting near the rear of the room suddenly catches Gyrfalcon's eye, and the half-elven hero's skin nearly goes pale. Gyrfalcon recognized the man as he had crossed his path before in a previous quest. Reyn the barbaric... one of the most lecherous scumbags one could possibly pray not to come across in an adventure. Reyn was the kind of guy that talked tough, constantly pretending he was unmatched in every aspect... In reality, all the bastard did was tag along and let others do the dirty work for him. In essence, the "barbarian" was a scavenger... feeding off of tidbits of treasure and info that other adventurers had left behind. Gyrfalcon bet that Reyn had never so much as lifted the bastard sword that hung on his belt... The Dreamer turns curiously to Gyrfalcon and, taking a sip of his drink, asks in an inquisitive voice "What's bothering you? You look somewhat sick all of a sudden..." Gyrfalcon covers his face with his hood and quickly tries to make his way out of the bar before being seen by the 'barbarian'. Reyn was not very efficent at his trade, but could get annoying as hell if he caught onto your mission. Heading swiftly to the exit and desperatly trying to avoid eye contact, Gyrfalcon is never the less spotted. Reyn's face immediatly brightens and he quickly turns and whispers something to his two allies, neither of which Gyrfalcon recognised. Sighing to himself and slumping back into his bar stool, Gyrfalcon groans and prepares for the worst... This would be a nuisance...

Sorry, not yet... As soon as they fix up the internet in my dorm room, I should be able to download it. I'd love to chat with you too. ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

The journey from Leferia to Felleros is both a peacefull and a truly beautifull one. The sun shines brightly, and a cool September breeze rids Gyrfalcon of the burdens of heat. Since the dusty trail leads along the outskirts of the Forest of Espers, the pleasant chirps and crickets of forest wildlife ring like music to the listeners ear... After the night has fallen and Gyrfalcon is certain he's made a good days progress, he settles down near a forest grove and checks over his map. If he kept moving at this pace, he'd reach Felleros in less then two days... The night is uneventfull and free of danger... something that Gyrfalcon, who had become accustomed to frequently facing wolf packs at the outskirts of forests in the North, was not entirely used to. The next day of travel is also free of worries, and as Gyrfalcon approaches the city of Felleros he begins becoming more and more excited. He could feel he was getting closer and closer to the secrets of the legendary pool... By the time the sun had begun to slowly set in the East and nightfall had once again begun to cloud the skies, Gyrfalcon had already reached the central gates of Felleros. In his excitement, he had traveled twice the rate he normaly rode and had arrived at Felleros an entire day earlier then he had predicted... His horse was absolutely exhausted, practicaly on the verge of collapsing. Sympathising with the poor animal, Gyrfalcon hopped off the stallion and walked with it the rest of the way to the gates...

Lewis and Simon had been sitting in Wyvern's office for hours now and STILL the overgrown lizard had yet to show his ugly mug. They had asked Wyv's secretary about his whereabouts and she had simply replied that he had gone on a coffee break and probably wouldn't be back for the next couple of weeks. Lewis and Simon had found this astonishing until they learned that Wyv's lunch breaks could last up to 7 years in length... Suddenly, much to the surprise of the two squirrels and the secretary, Wyvern comes barging into the office. He wears a pink flamingo outfit and carries in his possesions only a single, stained brown paper bag. Wyv goes straight to the easy chair of his desk and slumps into it immediatly. He then procedes to bang his head against the desk continously. "You're back early sir..." inquires his secretary "... business been rough?" Wyvern murmers something incomprehensibly, then growls "Whoever said there was oil to be found in the tropics is an idiot..." The secretary nods, then turns to an enormous list labeled 'Top Ways of Making Geld' and crosses out 'Dressing up as a flamingo and camofloging yourself in the tropics looking for oil'. Wyvern looks up from his mopings and notices the two squirrels that are looking eagerly at him. "What do you two runts want?" murmers the lizard "Whatever it is, I'm not in the mood..." "We were wondering if we could-" "No." interrupts Wyvern "Now leave me alone..." "But you haven't heard us out!" cries Lewis "This is absurd! What kind of recruiter are you?!" "So you want to join, eh...?" Wyvern laughs to himself. "Bring me some geld and I'll think about it." ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is like one big crime: I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

On a far south-western penninsula of Terra, bordering the vast Ocean of Nargoth and huddled between the ridges of the Nerenzi mountain range and the Forest of Espers, lies the quaint fishing village of Leferia. It is a peacefull village in which there is rarely excitement of any kind, and the townsfolk go about their daily schedules with few interruptions. Occasionaly, a pickpocket may turn up or a storm might occur... but that was as interesting as it got for the villagers of Leferia. Thus, when a great half-elven hero arrived on a fishing boat that fine mid-September morning, there was a great deal of commotion in the Leferian docking harbors... Many knew the warrior by name, some knew him by face. Gyrfalcon... the great hybrid of warrior and sorcerer. He who had yet to find a man that matched him in skill and power... His ventures had been chronicled to such an extent that many considered him legendary... He had come from the lands far North on a mission. As legend had it, there existed a pool which if stared into without fear granted it's onlooker a moment of infinite wisdom, and afterwards peace to the soul. The myth of 'The Pool of Eternal Reflection' had been inscribed into ancient parchments for centuries, and had never failed to grasp the attention of brave adventurers... Yet to this day, the location of the pool had never been discovered. For many heros, peace of the soul was more important then even the most immeasurable amount of geld and treasures. Gyrfalcon had a lead to where the pool could be located. A fellow adventurer had informed him that there was a priest by the name of Derick who knew some information on the location of the legendary pool. The priest lived in the city of Felleros, located a short ways north-east of Leferia... As the fishing ship came to a complete halt at the docks, and Gyrfalcon had hopped from the smelly wooden boat onto the firm harbor, an enormous crowd of peasants cheered his arrival.

-Part 1: A Gathering of Heros- Nightfall in Terra. The sun lazily begins its decent below the hills and ridges, casting its final rays of light over the vast fields, townships, and mountanous ridges. At Saint Theodores Church, located on Feyres peak along the outskirts of the city of Velensia, mass is just reaching its close for the day. As a fellow priest slowly makes his way around the central room of the church lighting candles, Saint Theodore reads the final lines from the bible for this session in front of the vast, attentive group of church-goers listening. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:" booms Saint Theodore. "for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil: my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life..." "...And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." concludes a voice coming from the back of the audience. Saint Theodore looks up from his bible only to find that three strangers are standing near the church's entrance. One of these strangers had just finished his reading from Psalm 23. A soft murmer breaks out in the audience. "Y-yes, my son..." answers Saint Theodore, uncertain whether to congratulate the stranger for knowing his biblical verses or act generaly offended for being interrupted in mid-speech. "Well said..." The stranger looks up at Saint Theodore and smiles. He takes a few steps forward, gazing up at a mural on the ceiling and admiring its beauty. Speaking to noone in particular, the stranger mutters: "Psalm 23... an excellent verse... although all verses written by the Lord contain only the greatest of knowledge and wisdom, do they not?" Somewhat confused, Saint Theodore reluctantly nods in agreement. He knew practicaly every person who attended the church's name by heart, and had never seen these three strangers in his life. Noticing the muddled confusion and irritation on Saint Theodore's face, the first stranger speaks up once again. "Forgive me father..." he says, pointing to the second stranger. "My friend is a paladin who has embarked on a most perilous quest. A quest with an objective none other then the purging of all sin. We came to this church in the hopes that you would offer him your blessings." Saint Theodore directs his gaze to the second stranger, and notices that the stranger bears a holy cross upon the armor plate that adorns his chest. The symbol of a paladin. Now calm and smiling, Saint Theodore beckons to the second stranger. "Certainly my son... I can offer you my blessings." An excited murmer rings through the crowd of spectators, then subsides into silence. The first stranger turns to the second stranger (the paladin) and nods. The paladin then shifts from his postion and slowly paces towards Saint Theodore's altar, marching through the center of the crowd of church-goers. As the paladin makes his way to Saint Theodore, the first stranger speaks up once again. "Indeed the bible has a great deal of wisdom throughout. If you'll permit me, I'd like to read a particularly interesting line from Isaiah 1:18" "I-" starts Saint Theodore as the paladin makes his way onto the altar. "Though your sins are like scarlet" exclaims the first stranger "they shall be as white as snow; Though they may be crimson red, they may become white as wool." At that moment, the paladin unseathes his blade and plunges it into the depths of Saint Theodore's chest. Theodore cries out in agony, and falls to the ground squirming and clutching his bleeding chest in pain. The paladin then procedes to lift his sword and strikes down upon the already wounded body of the priest, dealing the finishing blow. An enormous cry of horror rings from the audience and havoc breaks loose. The first stranger then signals to the third stranger, who procedes to knock over the altars that hold the church's candles. A fire begins to break loose, and with a few arcane words and gestures from the third strangers hands, the force of the fire is greatly augmented. An enormous explosion breaks out that instantly incinerates over half of the spectators. The paladin then begins furiously slaughtering those not already dead, showing not even the faintest sign of remorse. The first stranger simply stands back and watches the carnage his two allies produce, smiling happily to himself. After about ten minutes of watching, tears begin rolling down his cheeks. Not those of sorrow or remorse, but those of joy... And the night sky of Feyres peak is illuminated with the burning of Saint Theodores church...