Peredhil

The Quincunx: Rosemary, Minta, Rydia, and Tzimfemme, Collectively the Elder of ... What is she Elder of? Should it be Matron? Should we - Peredhil shrugs and drinks deeply of his Mountain Dew, then wipes the suds from his mouth with a hanky. The Elder of Elders is Ancient once more. All Hail the new Elder!

Black OOC: When he leaves, gets beaten, or whatever happens. Ill fall to the ground and not remember what went on.

Black Death looked with anger at the remaining mages. They were obviously brave to have the guts to stand up to him. "You wish to fight me? Do the little ants want to take on their master?" Standing up Death glared down at the mages, trying to think how they would have a chance. Not coming up with an answer Death continued. "It appears this mage wants his body back. He says hes not happy with what Ive done. Well too bad for him, he never was afraid of me. He always told me just what he wanted to...without hesitation. The fool should have known a little fear is good. Well, I gess its my body now." With an evil laugh Death stepped infront of Gyrfalcon and the other mages. His troops standing infront of him. "Ill give you the first move. Better make it a good one." His arms folded and troops ready for battle, he smiles evilishly down at the foes hes up against

Gyrfalcon Gyrfalcon looked up.... Death incarnate. And what could kill Death himself? Nothing. Gyrfalcon annonced in a loud, clear voice "Okay, people, the party is OVER." The drunken archmages looked around in surprise as Gyrfalcon switched off the fire sprinkler system, ending the gentle rain of booze from the Decanter of Endless Booze. Then they focused on death. It took a few minutes for its presence to penetrate their booze-soaked heads, but when it did.... "RUN!" screamed one archmage, and many of the mages did just that. Outside, the sounds of battle began to fill the air as the undead turned and attacked the archmages fleeing the Banquet Hall. Inside the Conservatory, Only a few brave, totally drunken, or oblivious mages remained the face Death... Part of Gyrfalcon's mind cursed him for being among that group, but this was HIS Conservatory, and nothing would drive him from it...

Knight "Oh **** me..." said Knight, trying to figure out how to hurt Death. ------------------ Blood Warrior of Souls- Army of Darkness Vice president of the official Mr. Bunny Fan club "..." - Mr. Bunny "Duty, Honor, Country. Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be..." -General Douglas MacArthur De Oppresso Libre - To free the oppressed "Molon Labe!" "Come and Get them!" -Spartan King Leonidas -Crack dealer out of the back of a certain Wholesale Warehouse

Black Death looked around with a smile and was happy with his work. His armies were dominating Terra, and he was sitting happily in a large thrown, in the middle of the plastic forest. With an evil laugh he said with pride. "This planet is MINE now, and I dont think anyone here is going to stop me!" The locusts were angry at this and some had tried to fight back. Thousands of them were killed and an undead army of guards came from the the lower floor. Vampires and liches, even wraiths came to the aid of Death. The army was huge and it surrounded its master. "Lets see The Great God do anything to me now!" Death said with pride. Meanwhile, Terra slowly fell to his forces and began to become his world. Blacks thoughts and beliefs were not along Deaths plans. This made no matter to the moment though, for Death way overpowered him and kept control of his body. With another evil laugh Death reveled in his new found power and glory.

Tamaranis OOC: I wasn't going to participate, but this thing has lost some participation, and is no where near a completion. Some one really should disconnect the Decanter from the sprinkler system. IC: Death's dominion over Terra began with those who had already perished. A ring of energy invisible to the living spread out from the great conservatory of Terra. To the undead, the energy was a horror, having already died, they fell immediatly under its control. All over Terra, undead turned against the archmages who had controlled them. Liches and vampires destroyed the living components of nether mages' armies, then moved on to the mages themselves. Undead mages fell under the control of Death, giving it instant dominion over hundreds of kingdoms within Terra. ******************************************** The spire's defensive aura suddenly sprang to life, magical energies crackled along the structure's surface as they battled for dominance. Tamaranis ignored the event at first, this happened twice a day on average when some mage made the spire the target of a volcanic erruption or similar spell. But this assult continued on, the magic supporting an assult from a spell would have died out in half a minute, but this went on for two minutes... three... four... The defensive aura around the spire began to waver, the mana batteries that supported it became increasingly weaked from continous operation. Tamaranis began to examine the spell assailing the spire, but its nature was complex beyond his grasp. Counter spells thrown against it had no effect, it was like trying to hold back a flood by throwing pebbles into the approaching torrent. Five minutes... six... Tamaranis no longer held out any hope that the spell would fail, who ever was casting this had no intention of being stopped. He poured mana from his nodes into the defences of the spire anyway. It didn't help The spire's aura buckled, the collapse put its outer edge within the spire itself. The aura continued to slide inward at an increasing pace. ******************************************** The ring of energy that brought the dominion of death with it met a point of resistence, and flowed around it. In a few minutes, the point of resistance had been snuffed out.

Scarlett O'Harpy Scarlett muses to herself... "Well, I seem to have eaten something which disagrees with me." Deep within her stomach, an irritated voice replies "No you didn't!" Harpy does a double take at her own marvellous talking tummy. It's several seconds before the penny drops and she realises the score. "Finniu-s-s-sssss!", she wails, "What am I going to do about you?" The pocket-sized cannibal paces up and down the room with growing agitation. "Look, you're in there. And I don't want you in there. I'm equally certain that you cannot possibly want to be in there. Now as I see it, you have two possible exits. Hmmm three", she adds hesitantly, "If you count Caesarean section. But I'm telling ya bud, I'm not scarring anything near my bikini line for any guy!" There is a muffled groan. "So what's it to be Finn? Upsies, or downsies?" ------------------ Scarlett O'Harpy The two phases of fire are craving and satiety

Cerulean Such quiet nights as these are seldom seen, when even sparks from bristling hairs are dumb, and silent skies betray the absent sheen of stars, that in their rhythmic twinkling, numb the senses. Still we drift away; we succumb to darker ones who squeeze our restful breath and force the heart to slow; to pause, and drum so slowly that the fight with lurking death is almost lost without contest. In some deserted corner, our minds dream this play of forces might dilute the laudanum looming quietus injects; but we say instead that dreams are real, and so we die, with low, deep clouds of grief to fill the sky. *********** She dreams. And dreams are real to the dreamer. The obverse of flipped coins, the side where monstrous faces loom and fade amidst the swirling masks of tyrants and kings. She feels. And sensation is real to the dreamer. She experiences a force beyond power she recognises; probing and searching, probing and searching. All the while she's urgently struggling for something familiar, something to locate and orientate. But the relentless picking and plucking of needy fingers. Inside her head, deeply rending her thoughts. Infiltrating and pillaging. She succumbs And acquiescence is real to the dreamer. A roar of triumph, deafens and sickens. The theft, the absence of her self. Pulse slows, each heartbeat a labour. And then nothing. ******* The mages around Cerulean watch as the woman stirs. Slowly, mechanically she raises herself upright. Her face betrays an unusual pallor, no tinge of pink strokes her cheek. Her lips painted darker, ghoulish. She opens her eyes; two empty points in space. And as she steps forward, unsteady, ghostly, her lips pull back into the grimace of an animal in a snare. She gazes to the heavens where Death holds her soul aloft. And falling upon her knees before her master, bids him instruct her of his will. The evil voice booms and resonates: "Felleros has vanished, now WE will reign supreme! You will be my slave on earth Cerulean, and there is nothing, nobody to stand in our way!" The woman nods her understanding. She must destroy any mage of power, status or position. She murmurs the syllables, unfamiliar, sweetly bitter, like cloves against her tongue. "Let the slaughter begin." ------------------ Cerulean Dark Mistress of the Desert RagingGoat's Babelfish Guardian of the sacred stick of celery Member of: Scarlet or Blue? - SoB - BG Babe who is the Color of the Sky of The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen

Wyvern ENOUGH!!! Felleros/Wyvern/Brute a.k.a Weevil raises his right arm and a circle of blue energy forms around him. Knight and Yui's spells are suddenly redirected, and clash together, dissipating. The two are knocked backwards by an unknown force into a plastic tree-trunk. FOOLISH SLAVES! BE THANKFULL... I SHALL SPARE YOUR PATHETIC LIVES... FOR NOW. Weevil then turns to the grandfather clock located in the corner. Both Yui and Knight gasp as they see the minute hand slowly move to the 12. The clock chimes midnight... There is a flash of blue light and a sudden silence. The Archmages residing in the plastic jungle stare in disbelief as the body of Cerulean, the very person the party had been hosted for, floats lifelessly to the ground. Felleros turns to Death, and then speaks: YOU MAY DO WHAT YOU WISH WITH HER SOUL. THEN... BEGONE! Weevil then turns to the other slaves huddling in a corner. WHO WILL BE NEXT?! The Dark One doesn't notice that the Tzim Squeaker is secretly huddled atop one of the massive jungle trees. In one hand, she holds a sling shot, in the other is Rydia's carp. Slowly and silently, the Squeaker loads the anti-spam carp into the sling and aims it directly at Weevil's head. Her hands trembling ever-so-slightly, she lets the carp fly... Normaly, Felleros would have seen such an ambush, but fortunatly he was too busy gloating over which 'slave' to undo next. The carp hits the back of his head right on target... once again with a deafening force. Knight and Yui watch as Weevil takes two steps back, waivering and holding his head. He then collapses to the ground, unconcious. The evil spirit of Felleros had been lifted from Wyvern. Tzim Squeaker had succeeded... Unfortunatly, the Archmages now found themselves faced with a different problem... Death stares down upon the miniscule excuses for mages and let's out a deep evil laugh. He taunts them by holding Cerulean's soul and waving it in the air. Now that Felleros had vanished, he would reign supreme... ------------------ Wyvern ...almost a dragon. Proud Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Saint of Terra; Patron of Parties. Diplomat and representitive of Succubi or Bust (S.o.B )-BG The Pen is Mightier then the Sword-BH Elder of Initiates It's also easier to carry... Unofficial member of the Mr. Bunny fan club. "GIVE ME A CARROT GODDAMMIT!" -Mr. Bunny

Scarlett O'Harpy Scarlett watches the action avidly out of her bridal suite window. There seems to be much waving of arms and sinister incantation. She butters some popcorn thoughtfully, and bobs it into her mouth. It tastes awfully chewy, and there is a familiar yelping noise coming from nearby, but Scarlett is absorbed by the chaotic unfurling of exterior events. She carves off another handful of popcorn. (Carves thinks Scarlett's brain belatedly, surely that's not the correct verb?) Harpy gasps and claps as Cerulean appears on the scene - this would make one helluva movie! She chews and swallows, chews and swallows, Cerulean is now floating serenely through the air. Yui's ebon hood is quivering, Knight and Black dash round in crazed circles. Scarlett holds up a sign saying '10' and applauds as Wyvern-evil (Weevil) does a bit more arm-waving. Cerulean rotates and spins gracefully, face blank and unresponsive. Harpy chews faster, veritably ripping that popcorn out of the carton, hacking and tearing that lovely yummy blue chewy pop... Oops Scarlett rubs her tummy guiltily and wipes her lips with a small tissue. Where's Finnius? ------------------ Scarlett O'Harpy The two phases of fire are craving and satiety

Black OOC: Ok, Im lost now...very lost. When in doubt complicate things. Black was running around trying to avoid the flames. The noise level was getting very bad and Black felt odd. The God Death took over his body and he grew 6 times his normal size. His eyes glowing pure red and he looked real angry. He was back in his vampire form when he saw the place was going crazy. Flames filled the area, the melting plastic had a bad burning smell. Other Gods could be seen, yells and screams were heared from all areas around him. Locusts were flying every way, and in combat with many mages, and some demons and Gods. "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE! I WAS JUST TRYING TO SLEEP!" Deaths voice was heared from all parts of the floor. He yelled out in anger and killed many locusts that that were around him.

Knight Knight rushed around the camp, and spotted Yui, precariously close to Wyvern. She looked to be in a bit of a spot. Wyvern was shouting something or other, completely out of it. Yui was doing something.. casting something.. Call Hurricane? What the hell? Aegon would be hella pissed if he didn't do something. Shouting, he shot a stream of forcebolts at Wyvern-demonthingy. It didn't hurt him, but it certainly pissed him off. Knight ran towards Wyvern and Yui, but turned, so that ye could give Yui the signal to run like hell. With this, he kept Wyvern distracted, by using various light eradication spells. While not hurting Wyvern-demonthingy, they were making him even angrier. ------------------ Blood Warrior of Souls- Army of Darkness Vice president of the official Mr. Bunny Fan club "..." - Mr. Bunny "Duty, Honor, Country. Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be..." -General Douglas MacArthur De Oppresso Libre - To free the oppressed "Molon Labe!" "Come and Get them!" -Spartan King Leonidas -Crack dealer out of the back of a certain Wholesale Warehouse

Yui Temae A bit at a loss in the face of Wyvern's demonic-type possession, the birthday-girl's imminent danger, and the rising flames around them, Yui just kind of stood there, blinking her gaze back and forth between the almost-dragon's enraged visage and Cerulean's enspelled blank stare. She couldn't back away or leave the area, for the flames around them were a veritable wall outside of the protection of possessed-Wyvern's shell and there are precious little Yui-sized shadows through which she can ShadowWalk in the middle of a blaze. None, in fact. Rather helpless to do anything offensive against whatever Wyvern had become despite her extreme annoyance at having been called a 'wench', (... mental note to self: Get Wyvern back for that one, sometime. Grrrr... ) she stood still for a moment, watching him and considering. Orlan-toknonnen is obviously who he wants, though for what reason I have no idea. Equally obviously, I haven't a snowball's chance in the Nine Hells of touching a hair... er... scale on his wyvernish head with these powers of his. I can't stop him... and I can't help Cerulean. I can't go after Orlan because I'm trapped here. I can't ShadowWalk and get him, even. ... There's only one way that I can help the situation... Let's just hope it doesn't anger ... Looking at the pure, vengeful rage in Wvyern's normally-happy eyes, she gulped and revised the thought. ... further anger the demon-whatever that's got him. With that, she stepped back to the very edge of the ring of protection from the fire, her eyes locked warily on the one with the tendency to yell and his ensorcelled captive. Although it was more difficult to gather the concentration necessary to cast the spell, Yui did not let herself close her eyes as she began to mutter the arcane words of Call Hurricane... ((Wyvern, et al. I'll let you decide whether to let her cast it and just how much of the fire it douses if she does. She's not trying to attack evil-guy, but I wasn't sure how or if he'd react. Um... just don't kill me, 'kay? )) ------------------ @-/--- Yui-chan Student of the Kendricke School of Mile-long Posts The one who stole Aegon from AoD ... and then got stolen by AoD Forever a mage of the Hall of Justice Yui-chan #65, a mage of Verdant magicks

Wyvern Felleros squints through the rays of heat let off by the blazing inferno and see's there is a cabine of some sorts in the near distance... Nanotoknonnen might be there. He is about to head off to the aclove when he stares down to see Yui at his feet. Upon meeting the Wyvern-things gaze, Yui gulps and takes a step back. There was no warmth in those eyes... only hatred. A deep, longing hatred... WHAT DO YOU WANT, SLAVE? demands Felleros to a stuttering Yui. Yui timidly mutters something, but it is unheard in the roaring depths of the inferno... I HAVE NO USE FOR YOU, WENCH! BEGONE! Realizing that Wyvern is apparently not in his most natural state, Yui ponders if it would be better to flee from his protective field and face the inferno's flames... rather then Felleros' wrath, that is. The Dark One notices that directly ahead of him, headed towards the small cabin, is another slave. Felleros looks at a grandfather clock that has miracolously been untouched by the flames and notices that it is a quarter to midnight. He then looks back up to the new slave. This slave would do... COME... says Felleros coldly, motioning his hand towards the wanderer. The slave suddenly levitates in the air and is pulled towards the Dark One. Yui, who is still pondering whether to run or not, notices that the new 'slave' that Felleros had found was none other then the birthday girl herself! Cerulean floats directly in front of the Dark One, held helpless by his spell. Felleros calls out: NANOTOKNONNEN! SHOW YOURSELF OR I SHALL KEEP MY WORD AND COMMENCE SACRIFICING SLAVES! He points to the floating Cerulean. SHE WILL BE THE FIRST TO DIE! IF THE CLOCK STRIKES MIDNIGHT AND YOU HAVE NOT STOOD BEFORE ME, I SHALL REAVE HER VERY SOUL! In a near-by corner, the grandfather clock read 11:50... ------------------ Wyvern ...almost a dragon. Proud Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Saint of Terra; Patron of Parties. Diplomat and representitive of Succubi or Bust (S.o.B )-BG The Pen is Mightier then the Sword-BH Elder of Initiates It's also easier to carry... Unofficial member of the Mr. Bunny fan club. "GIVE ME A CARROT GODDAMMIT!" -Mr. Bunny

Finnius Somewhere behind and to the left of Wyvern: The sort-of-nice almost-dragon was acting naughty again. Pekkle was getting a bit of a headache, partly due to all the yelling, partly because of the increasing heat. This was just not a safe place for a growing demoness to be. Oh well, things were bound to get better. Silexion, all dressed up in his tuxedo, fingered a small glowing cuff-link, then narrowed his eyes angrily. He motioned for Pekkle to stay hidden, which, of course, she had no intention of doing. Sillyxion crept low on his knees towards the misbehaving lizard, shadowed by a curious Pekkle. In the wedding suite: More specifically; tied to a hibachi near a half-opened window in the southwest corner of the wedding suite, but who's counting? The blue mage awakens to a sweet smell, barbecue, he thinks. The air has thickened with mesquite-smoke, and a low fire burns outside the window. Through said portal, Finnius can see the dusky shapes of a drago- no... a wyvern's wings stretched in battle with thousands upon thousands of locusts. The mage breathes a sigh of relief. Good old Wyv, I knew he'd come for me. This line of thought, however, is cut short as the door opens and his diminutive spouse enters the room. She sniffs the air, then stirs something in the corner. Harpy hefts a bottle of oil, then grins demoniacly. "The sauce is almost ready, time to start you cooking!" As the pint-sized people-eater advances, Finnius goes over what he knows of Terran marriage laws. There must be some clause about not eating your spouse...

Yui Temae Yui watched from a dark corner as everything went to hell in a handbasket, Wyvern possessed by an evil entity with an annoying tendency to yell, Tzimfemme getting sucked on by that fascinatingly insane Rosemary and then being fed some potion by a wrapped-up Orlan with an almost-as-annoying penchant for speaking of himself in the third person. She winced a bit as the newly-revived Tzimfemme lunged at Orlan-toknonnen and began nibbling in a way that was definitely not meant to be seen in PG-13 forums. Coughing a bit and turning her face deeper into the darkness to hide a blush, she turned her attention politely from the ensorcelled naked undead and her wrapped-up snack... just in time to dodge a flaming section of ceiling that was heading for her fragile, golden head. "YIPE!" The huntress blinked in surprise at the burning debris on the ground and then at the inferno revealed on the floor above. Her eyes went wider. By the gods! That's.... um ... very not good! Obviously, words failed her at that moment... Moving urgently, she rushed to the now-blown open door to the stairwell, dodging drunken mages, falling chunks of building structure, and puddles of unidentifiable liquids while she took a mental stock of her mana reserves. Damn. I knew I should not have used the mana to summon that last cadre of Pheonix... I've only enough for one casting of Hurricane, and if that fails... The young human did not let herself finish the thought, racing up the stairs two at a time. She reached a frighteningly fiery faux-forest (say that five times fast... I dare you...) just in time to hear what sounded like Wyvern's voice ringing from the depths of the inferno, though she could not make the words out over the roar and crackle of the toxic, burning plastics. Pulling a corner of the ebon cloak over her nose to dampen the noxious fumes, she rushed towards the sounds, convinced that her semi-draconic friend must have been despirately calling out for help. (Or geld. With Wyvern, one never knows, after all.) The flames were thick, but she managed to dodge some and use her cloak as protection against the rest, relentlessly hurrying to the rescue. If I can get to Wyvern, I can just keep him near me, get to the center of the fire, and cast my last Hurricane. Maybe, with a lot of luck and the blessings of Lady Nature, it will be enough to douse the flames. Gods grant that it's not too late to help the others who came up here. They simply must be all right... On that thought, she burst through the foliage ... and hits Wyvern square in the chest, having covered her face with her cloak for protection from the flames. Before she knows what happened, she's on her rump on the ground, flames mysteriously clear from the area, and looking up at the almost-dragon's rather uncharacteristically angry visage. Her green eyes widen a bit as she blinks in surprise and stammers. "Uh... W-Wyvern? I'm... er... here to ... um ... rescue you?" At the expression on his face, she gulps a bit and thinks maybe that assuming the possessed dragon-like-guy wasn't possessed any more might have been a mistake. ------------------ @-/--- Yui-chan Student of the Kendricke School of Mile-long Posts The one who stole Aegon from AoD ... and then got stolen by AoD Forever a mage of the Hall of Justice Yui-chan #65, a mage of Verdant magicks

Orlan The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen sat in his hot tub, drinking a beer. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen liked his beer. And he liked his quiet hot tub. Sure, this was a party, and The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen was supposed to be socializing but honestly, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen did not tend to mingle with his slaves, it’s just easier that way (easier in the fact that he dosen’t have to talk to them). However, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen’s enjoyment was stopped suddenly as a chunk of ceiling dropped from above, aiming straight for The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen. "Uhhhhhhnnnnn, No." The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen said. The piece of ceiling stopped in mid air, moved ten feet to the right, and then fell onto the floor away from The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen. It was then that The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen noticed what was beyond the hole that just appeared above him. Fire and brimstone was everywhere, lightning cracked, and people screamed. It was just like home. Though The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen noticed something amiss. One of his locusts flew in. This locust was on fire, it’s body lit up like a Roman Candle. The locust fluttered down and landed on The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen’s arm, which was stretched along the side of the tub. "Uhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnn, I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, would like to know why you would need to use the Flame Shield spell that I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, stole from Flame’s underwear drawer last reset." The locust shook itself and the fire around it went out. The locust had a large spear (well large for a locust) and it’s helmet showed it was of the rank Captain. "I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, would like to know what it all the commotion, Captain Jezzzzzabel? For I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, simply wish to enjoy a nice quiet beer bath in this hot tub with the well-endowed Grim Squeaker, who I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, went to painstakingly massive amounts of," The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen turned to his left and noticed that the Tzim Squeaker was missing. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen was slightly perturbed. "Explain," The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen told the locust. Immediately the locust saluted and then began miming out to The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen. She hopped around on one leg, and then bent the other leg back around her until she was itching her nose with it. She then leaped around a bit, throwing her arms up in the air. She spun around in a circle a few times and then fell over. Springing back to her feet she started doing the Macarena and then took a step to the left, to the left, to the right, to the right, to the front, to the front, to the back, to the back, now dip baby dip, c’mon now dip baby dip, and then slide, slide baby slide, slide baby and then finished with the splits. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen nodded. "I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, see, and where is this Queen who seeks to usurp control over The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen’s minions. She needs to be shown that I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, am a vindictive sunvabich." The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen sat up and lifted himself out of the hot tub of beer and immediately stalked off to the main dance floor. When he got there he found the place was a sea of beer, and the sprinklers where endlessly filling it up more and more. He looked around and noticed that his slaves, er the Archmagers where floating around on tables and chairs, awash in the booze. It was then that The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen spotted the Tzim Squeaker, brooding to herself in the corner. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen reached out with his mind to his minion. Nothing. She wasn’t responding. This was not a happy sign. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen reached around her, trying to figure out what was wrong. And he smelled Rosemary on her. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen shouted an order in her head. She didn’t move. Orlan reached out this time, probing the link he shared with his obsession, he found her, but she was boxed. Orlan thought fast, and was happy he came as The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen reached into his wrappings and took out a mug and a small vial. He dunked the mug into the river of booze and added the contents of the vial. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen then sent the mug over to the Tzim Squeaker. "Drink," Orlan and The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen simultaneous sent the thought to Tzim/Squeaker. She unconsciously grabbed the mug and drained the contents, letting the mug drop back into the sea of booze. A moment passed, then another. Nothing happened. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen stood patiently, for a deity of dirt, until the reaction happened. Tzim/Squeaker’s head perked up and she sniffed the air. She swung her head from side to side, and then stopped. In a flash, she leapt at The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, slamming into him hard, wrapping her arms around his neck and started nibbling on his bandaged wrapped shoulders. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen looked down at her and sighed. "Uhhhhhhhhnnnn.Perhaps I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, should not have used the whole vial. Well, there is not time for I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, to second guess myself, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen. For I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, am always right. Now then Priestess' we need to-" The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen stopped suddenly as a cold wind brushed over him. Something felt old, and full of rememberance. Something that tried to be as evil as The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen was, but failed. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen shook this feeling and turned back to Tzim/Squeaker. "It’s time for I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, to go reclaim my locusts, and slaves. Come Tzim Squeaker." Tzim/Squeaker nuzzled The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen’s neck and mewed a "Yah. shure," as she continued nibbling on The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen. The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen sighed. "Uhhhhnnnnnn.Next time, I, The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, am not going to use the whole vial, and with that tossed the vial over his shoulder. He then started stalking towards the honeymoon suites, following the smell of BBQed wolf. The empty vial floated across the sea of booze, it’s label slightly worn but still readable. SexynessÔÓ Quality Spanish Viagra Fly. ------------------ Orlan, Sexy Sexy Man The Lounge! Member of the Tribe S1 Lounge Lizard of Terra GuildMaster of "Nekkid Female Mages No. 1 FanClub and Worshippers" Bard Of Terra Member of Angels of Apocalypse on A1 Lover of Women Priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen. Elder of The Pen Is Mightier, Bard's Division (BH). - Elder of Chocolate

Knight "Me? Him?! You've gotta be kidding..." Says Knight, grabbing his sword. "How do I always get myself into these situations.." With this, he begins to scan the outer reaches of the camp, searching for survivors.. ------------------ Blood Warrior of Souls- Army of Darkness Vice president of the official Mr. Bunny Fan club "..." - Mr. Bunny "Duty, Honor, Country. Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be..." -General Douglas MacArthur De Oppresso Libre - To free the oppressed "Molon Labe!" "Come and Get them!" -Spartan King Leonidas

Wyvern Slowly, Felleros the Dark One ascends the narrow stair way leading to the plastic jungle of the third floor. As he reaches the stair ways summet, he pauses and gazes at the chaos surrounding him. Flames lept from the plastic crevasses, powered by the flammable alcohol pouring from the ceiling. The stench of melting plastic was ever apparent here... but there was something else... something Felleros/Wyvern/Brute was missing... Felleros' beady little black eyes gleam with malice as he spots a small creature in tattered clothing. The figure weilds a tiny spear (a toothpick of sorts) It was a locust. An evil grin slowly spreads across the Dark One's face. Locusts were the most humble slaves and disciples of the Great God and Pharoah Nanotoknonnen... With locusts here, Nanotoknonnen was sure to be near by. Felleros makes his way into the blazing inferno of the jungle. As he passes through the overgrowth, the flames temporarily seperate and give him safe passage. After he has passed, they revert back to their normal state. It was almost as if the flames were afraid to touch him... The Wyvern-thing arrives at a clearing and suddenly stops, sensing a presence of some sorts. An enormous war cry rings out and thousands of locusts ambush him from all sides, weilding spears and clubs. The Dark One simply smirks as the locusts spontaneously combust in bursts of blue energy. After the so-called "ambush" has been unsuccesfully completed, an unharmed Felleros turns his head to the booze filled skies and calls out: NANOTOKNONNEN! IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO?! SHOW YOURSELF... OR I SHALL START SACRIFICING SLAVES!!! ------------------ Wyvern ...almost a dragon. Proud Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Saint of Terra; Patron of Parties. Diplomat and representitive of Succubi or Bust (S.o.B )-BG The Pen is Mightier then the Sword-BH Elder of Initiates It's also easier to carry... Unofficial member of the Mr. Bunny fan club. "GIVE ME A CARROT GODDAMMIT!" -Mr. Bunny

Cerulean Cerulean struggles to breathe through the clouds of smoke and smouldering plastic foliage fumes. Camp Locust is a vision of blazing debris before her, and she can discern little to inform her of the goings-on within. She cannot bear the idea that her dear friend Scarlett is lying helpless and injured, and her distress at her party's inaction increases by the second. With the resolution of a true soldier, she turns to the party. Her face is set, and she attempts a stoicism which belies how fearful she feels inside. "Knight, Black, will you skirt the boundaries of the camp? Survivors should be taken alive, no unnecessary casualties please. Silexion, Pekkle, could you examine the Southern reaches? Oh and if you happen upon an Ent en route, interrogate him without mercy. He may have information germane to the success of our rescue mission." Finally she turns to Mindspawn. "We'll search the interior and the Northern sector. It's where the Inferno struck hardest..." Her voice trails off as she sees her friends' grim expressions. She stares at them levelly and indicates with a thrust of her arm, the way back to safety, back to the party. "Of course if any of you feel that the danger's too great, leave now. I'll think no worse of you for it." With that parting shot to their pride, Cerulean walks quickly into the Camp. She doesn't even pause to see who has chosen to follow. ------------------ Cerulean Dark Mistress of the Desert RagingGoat's Babelfish Guardian of the sacred stick of celery Member of: Scarlet or Blue? - SoB - BG Babe who is the Color of the Sky of The Great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen

Mindspawn Scarlett advances towards the prone body of Finnius. The match-flame flickers, and the light it throws onto Harpy's face reveals her features screwed into an ugly sneer of pleasure. She knows not whether Finnius was a wealthy mage -- but plans to discover shortly whether his financial attributes outstripped his spousal ones. She pushes a box to the side of the barbecue so she can clamber high enough to activate the rotate 'n' baste function. Sadly, the controls are stiff and she is thwarted by her tiny size. Her mind works overtime. This is unusual, since normally it barely manages a straight shift. But Scarlett is yearning for the carefree life of a single girl once again. A single girl with financial independence, naturally. She chuckles at how little paperwork there will be. Why her dearly-soon-to-be-departed had even shown the foresight to plan his own funeral. What a guy! All Scarlett had to muster was the pie after... She stands and thinks. Either she manages to fuel the barbecue, or she disposes of Finnius some other way. Suddenly it hits her. She reels from the surprise of a good idea, and rolls it over in her head, savouring the flavour. All she needs is a little oil after all. And someone at the gathering was dressed as the mighty Tyrion. That somebody was in possession of exactly what she wanted. A selection of miniature oil-flasks for indoor use. "Perfect!" Now where was Mindspawn? ------------------ Scarlett O'Harpy The two phases of fire are craving and satiety

Wyvern OOC: I'm sorry... I just can't leave this party in such a chaotic state. IC: Felloros the Dark One/Wyvern/Brute makes his way through the crowds of terrified Archmages. He steps over the shadow of the mage he had just utterly eradicated... he had left it in memory of the pathetic slave. Grimacing maliciously, the dark one turns to a door labled "Main Stairway". Pointing a hand glowing with energy at the door, he calls out: NANOTOKNONNEN! SHOW YOURSELF COWARD! YOUR MINIONS ARE USELESS AGAINST ME! With that, the surrounding Archmages scream as Felleros fires a beam of blue energy that shatters the stairway door into pieces. He begins heading towards the stairway when he passes over something that catches his eye. A trap door located at the far end of the dance floor. I SHALL HAVE MY REVENGE! Felleros raises his hands in the air and the trap door explodes off it's hinges. He stares into it's depths, and finds not Nanotoknonnen, but rather Lumpenproletariat disguised as the Grinch, gloating over Cerulean's presents. Looking up and seeing Wyverns angry visage staring down at him, Lumpy quickly stands and nervously stutters: "W-wait Wyvern... Uhhh... I can explain..." The creature that was once Wyvern raises it's hand and Lumpy goes flying out of the basement region of the Conservatory. MY NAME IS NOT WYVERN! IT IS FELLEROS THE DARK ONE. BOW BEFORE ME, SLAVE. "Wait! Don't hurt him!" cries an Archmage from the audience. The Archmage then looks into the basement where Lumpen was hiding and see's the unmistakeable stack of Cerulean's pressies. Turning to the Wyvern-thing, the mage mutters "On the other hand, do what you want with him..." Felleros growls and tosses Lumpen across the room. Fortunatly, the Lumpster has the good fortune of landing in a punch bowl that breaks his fall. A pink squirrel squeaks a greeting to him... Felleros heads off in a rage towards the broken stair way doors. He passes a Nether mage and grabs the mages cape, wrapping it around his back and making him look very sinister. The mage doesn't dare try to stop him. Felleros roars: ENOUGH OF THESE GAMES, NANOTOKNONNEN! SHOW YOURSELF! WE HAVE BEEN DESTINED TO DUEL! With that, the Dark One heads up the stairs leading to the third floor plastic jungle... towards the unfortunate likes of Finnius and Scarlett O' Harpy... ------------------ Wyvern ...almost a dragon. Proud Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Saint of Terra; Patron of Parties. Diplomat and representitive of Succubi or Bust (S.o.B )-BG The Pen is Mightier then the Sword-BH Elder of Initiates It's also easier to carry... Unofficial member of the Mr. Bunny fan club. "GIVE ME A CARROT GODDAMMIT!" -Mr. Bunny

Scarlett O'Harpy Harpy is watching Zool's antics with unconcealed malevolence. First he looked furious, next startled, then saddened as he now gazed levelly at the pint sized woman who was evidently as un-hirsute as a coot, and seething with it. As she leapt towards him, Zool took a neat step to the side which left Scarlett crashing onto the floor. (Not a damaging fall, granted, given her current proportions, but as severe a crack to her dignity as any you could think of.) She regarded the mage who had bested her as she lay sprawling on the ground. "You've changed!", she spat. "You'd never have done that before. What's going on Zoolio?" Zool appeared rather less well defined than she had remembered. His outline seemed to shimmer and dip. But she continued her barrage of abuse undaunted. "I mean, for heaven's sake, this is a thread, right? You're supposed to tie it into a knot or unravel it somehow. You can't just stand there as if you're not a true part of the action any longer. I mean the readers gotta believe in ya goddammit!" When he didn't reply she sat up slowly. The timbre of her voice altered as she spoke in softer tones. "Come on Zooly, you know how it has to be. You're the cosmic clown, the Shakespearean fool who offers the pearl of wisdom at the end of Act V. I'm the baddie with the heart of gold, set up for falls and comedic interest. You think I like tokenistic irony?" Zool jumps back stunned at the visitation of vocabulary. "We don't control it! We're caricatures. You can't simply opt out now." Scarlett snaps her mouth abruptly shut as realisation dawns with the bitter twist of a hemlock Margarita. "Oh! You're being written out! That's it, isn't it? Your human wants to move on?" Harpy looks horrified. But gee that's awful, is there anything I can do?" Zool shakes his head. "It's not so bad. I get to do new things now, change, I'm not stuck in this one role forever more. You should try it sometime..." Scarlett considered. But what else could she be? She was how she was as a foil to Cerulean. She couldn't develop. Cast as the shrew to be tamed by Rapture, it was work, it was fun, it was... predictable. Zool smiled at Harpy, his annoyance gone. "You'll see. One day, you'll understand." He pushed his luck slightly as he completed this statement with an enigmatic smile which didn't wholly come off. His jaw set in a rictus of amusement, and his form appeared in Harpy's eyes to dissipate still further. She saw a mage with a sense of otherness about him, as though he were both here and present in a different world. Something was tugging at him, and she knew she had little time to lose. "So. You givin' me the wig, or aincha?" Zool shook his head. His eyes were distant mirrors through which Scarlett saw reflected another room, another time. In the second room a second Zool was placing items into a trunk. She watched as he described the action unknowingly to her. Her eyes widened as she finally recognized the change he'd undergone. Zool looked happy, peaceful. "Into the trunk went a black leather suit, trimmed in red. Into the trunk went a pair of shoes with the heel under the toes for backtracking, and the world's smallest axe for splitting hairs. Into the trunk went a pair of fake plastic glasses with a fake plastic nose and fake bushy eyebrows attached. Into the trunk went a black cape with the words "Assassin Magi" lettered on the back, and into the trunk went an odd toupee, it's jet black pompadour sweeping straight up nearly three feet - it was laid gently on its side. Lastly, a yellow rubber chicken was ceremoniously folded by the white gloves and laid on the articles in the trunk. With a slow squeaking and a narrowing of the field of light from the trunk, it gently closed, the gloves barely slipping into the barest crack of an opening before all vanished into empty space at the final click of the latch." Scarlett stood up silently as the figure of Zool faded away from the Masquerade. His voice carried still to her ears, and his smile disappeared last, like the Cheshire Cat's. "To all my friends and all my enemies; Thank you, and farewell." Scarlett was quite impressed, despite herself. "How'd you do that Zooly?" It was magic. ********************* The air around her wavered, swirled and was still. From nowhere, tiny pieces of paper fluttered onto the floor. She stooped and collected a handful of confetti. It was all that remained of the contraction she had signed. Harpy sighed a deep sigh and rubbed her temples thoughtfully. Her face displayed an atypical expression, as though she was weighing up a difficult set of choices. As though she was actually thinking. The barest movement behind her brought her crashing back to reality. Scarlett's ears radared and she listened carefully to Finnius's creeping footfalls as he enacted his daring escape-bid. With a determined toss of her scalp, Harpy throws all previous thoughts to one side, and locks them away in her own mental trunk. Maybe one day she'll follow the path of her friend, but not just yet. She's having too much FUN! Scarlett fishes in the pocket of her apron and pulls out a box of cooking matches. With the dexterity of a card sharp, she extracts a match, scratches a nail over the phosporus tip, strikes a light and watches the tiny fire drip down the stick. Cupping her fingers around the dancing flame, she walks steadily over to the barbecue, gnashing her teeth as she goes. Her mind is not on food, however. She is carefully selecting an outfit from her collection. Something dark, tailored, severe even. Her eyes glint with amusement. Widow's weeds will become her. ------------------ Scarlett O'Harpy The two phases of fire are craving and satiety

Finnius Praise be to Zool, thinks the not-quite-fearless blue mage, as he hastily bandages the wounds his three-inch-tall wife had given him. Harpy, still wrapped up with the red mage, apparently didn't notice Finnius' hasty retreat. Then again, appearances can be decieving... As the now-naked-and-marinated mage opens a window and begins to climb out, Harpy deftly tosses a fork over her shoulder, pinning her hapless husband's hand to the window-sill. (Why there is a window in the interior of the third floor, by the way, is beyond me.) The bruised-and-battered (In more ways than one!) blue mage winces in pain as he pulls the pint-sized utensil from his palm. It is at this point that the subtle, but effective, poison, with which the fork had been laced, takes effect. The poor blue-skinned man swoons and falls over, right on top of an unlit barbecue grill.