Yui-chan

Actually, that's something that I'm still not very clear on. Although in practical usage, often younger children and females are addressed with the -chan while males are addressed with -kun, a male/female split doesn't seem to actually be part of the technical definitions of the titles. I suspect that it's more of a 'common usage' rule than a hard-and-fast one. To a native Japanese speaker, it would just sound odd to call a female classmate using the -kun suffix, but it might not be wrong, per se. According to About.Com: ~Yui

They're essentially titles, Adrynna. Each one is designed to help place the speaker in relationship to the person they are addressing. Without getting into too much detail (because they can get very complicated), the ones you asked about go something like this: -san = someone with whom you have a formal relationship or someone whom you are expected to respect. In general, that's anyone who's older than you or anyone with whom you have a professional relationship. Those aren't the only cases where you'd use it, but they are the most common. In terms of English, you can consider -san as meaning Mr. or Mrs. or Miss, and you use it in the same places as you would use those titles. -chan and -kun = someone with whom you have a very informal relationship or someone who you are very friendly with. Mostly, this is used for friends or people younger than you. Because it is less respectful, using it in the wrong place can be insulting. -sempai = This is generally used for an older classmate, meaning someone whom you respect but not to the same extent as you would an adult, teacher, or etc. For example, a 6th-year student would probably address both their own class president and a 7th-year student as -senpai because, although peers, they have positions demanding slightly higher respect than the student. -sensei = This is a term of respect you use for anyone in a teaching position. Of course, that most often translates to school teachers, but it can also be sports coaches, martial arts instructors and even just ... wise people who teach you stuff. It's formal, just like -san. -sama = someone in a slightly more formal or more superior position than even someone you'd call by -san. It's really not that common in modern day, but still, you would use it for someone you were really trying to honor or someone you very highly respected. In terms of English, it would be very similar to calling someone Lord or Lady, and is just about as archaic. There's a rough introduction. I'm not Japanese, though... I'm sure Madoka-san could give much better answers, if you can catch her. Zyaa ne, ~Yui

Well, it's always good to know that you haven't fallen off the face of the earth, Sali-chan! We'll be waiting with baited breath for your return, and in the meantime, all the best of luck to conquer all those demonic tasks (and EQ baddies). Good luck! Return soon! Sincerely, ~Yui

Arwen, That's so nice of you to say. Thanks! I don't think you should ever write like me, though. I think you should write like you, instead. Wyvern, I'm glad you liked the changes in 'Melody'. I did, too. Again, thanks so much for pointing them out to me. It never ceases to amaze me how you can completely track my thought processes with these poems, by the way. Maybe it's just a sign that we have the same tastes, but you always like the same lines I do. You also always are displeased with the lines I struggled with. I think that's an indication that I tend to say 'good enough' a little too often with those awkward lines. I'm going to try to avoid that, next time. Thank you both for commenting! ~Yui Oh, PS: Yes, I was using a piano to create the sounds in 'Melody'. Did you ever get to convince someone to play a guitar version of the chords? Was it any good?

((3 of 3 - If you haven't seen posts 1 and 2, then STOP reading and scroll up! My turn's over! ... whew. *falls over* #_#)) The last thread fell into place, and the spell took over, moving itself into the final refrain. She let it carry her as shadows infringed on her thoughts, let her voice soar as she climbed the scale with the melody, arcing towards the limits of her vocal range. The weave shifted, its lines changing to symbols that filled her mind and heart and soul, and she knew it was time. The Holy Word danced in her thoughts, demanding release, and in one burst, she snapped open the links she'd formed to Merelas, Ayshela and the others, snatching the power she didn't have and throwing it into the Word as she cast the weave loose. Through the roaring of her own blood in her ears, Salinye heard a Word, the only Word to the song that Yui had been singing for... how many minutes had it been? How many lifetimes? She didn't know, but it didn't matter. For the entire heartbeat in which she remembered that Word, it was the only thing worth knowing, the only thing worth thinking about. It was the perfect Word, the perfect sound, a window directly into eternity. ... and then she forgot it. They all did. The moment that Huntress fell silent, her Word fell away, leaving nothing more than the empty regret of a missed opportunity or a glimpse at something so far beyond them all that it was ... incomprehensible. Merelas blinked back a sudden, rather embarrassing urge to cry and glanced over at Daryl to find him wiping a furry arm across his eyes as well. He was suddenly very tired, and his arm shook as he tried to sheath his sword. There wasn't any further need for it. The undead were gone, blasted to ash and less by the mere sound of the Holy Word. The only sign they'd ever been there were the drow-crafted weapons scattered about and a thin, gritty film of dust that was slowly settling throughout the Hostel. At the peak of the roof, Gyrfalcon blinked his eyes open, feeling the moment of rapture drift away. The world spun around him for a moment, evidence of just how drained and woozy he was, but he still managed to get to his feet, his first priority being to look for his enemy. All it took was a quick glance down the sloping surface to see that the courtyard, once teeming, was empty except for a rather stunned-looking Loremaster. With a little grin, he waved down to Ozymandias, giving him a thumbs-up to let him know that all was clear. There wasn't an intact undead for as far as the eye could see. The ranger turned to Yui, his smile growing brighter. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Salinye, still seated as she attempted to catch her breath and recover, but he left her alone for the moment, his gaze on the little human who stood with her back to them both. In the moonlit darkness, she was the embodiment of the shadows she traveled, given away only by the glimmer of washed-out-gold from her uncovered hair. "That was ... impressive," Gyr said quietly, stepping up beside his friend. He looked down at her face as she turned towards him, noting first the fading residual glow on her eyes and then the weak smile curving her lips. At least she hadn't - His thoughts stopped dead as the Huntress' knees buckled, and he reacted with his usual speed, catching her before her head could hit the hard tiles of the roof. Her slight form was dead weight in his arms, and for a moment, he felt panic grip his chest. He wouldn't put it past her to have sacrificed her last ounce of strength to the magic, thereby leaving nothing for the most basic functions of her body. Hurriedly, he pressed his fingers against the pulse-point on the side of her neck, holding his breath until he encountered the steady beat of her heart. Gyrfalcon breathed a little sigh of relief, but he still had a black-clad problem on his hands. Yui was out cold.

((2 of 3)) Nodding slightly, Yui glanced between the Gyrfalcon and Salinye. "You'll want to sit down," she said without explanation, closing her eyes pointedly as she began to focus her resources on the Holy Word. Despite a wary look that passed between them, they did as she asked, Salinye settling her skirts around her on the tiles. They closed their eyes as well, each reaching inside to find the door to the power they commanded and fling it open. The Huntress tentatively touched her friends, establishing a tiny thread of connection to each of them, starting with Gyr and Salinye and then stretching herself down the roof to touch Daryl, Ayshela, Merelas, Adrynna and Jirah. Ozymandias' amazing power shone like a beacon, tempting her to go further, but she resisted the call, knowing that she could not risk the fragmenting of her attention or his. He hadn't been privy to the plan, after all. With the connections established, Yui tapped the link between herself and Gyrfalcon and Salinye, slowly drawing on the power that the half-elf and high elf were offering her. The lines to the others stayed dead for the moment, and she resolved to keep them that way for as long as possible. She didn't want to leave anyone weak and vulnerable to the enemy until the very last second. They'd each already suffered enough injury for one day. Focusing her attention on the matter at hand, the magess listened to the melody in the back of her mind, letting it vibrate softly from behind her closed lips. As her arms raised and her hands began their intricate dance through the air, she let the sound grow, carefully fitting each note to the weave of energy forming around her, in her, through her. The magic tasted strange, felt foreign from the elements of Gyrfalcon and Salinye's unique signature in it, but it was still beautiful and wonderful, its luminescence made exotic by the tingles of green and blue. Each note of the Hymn dropped into that pool of power, creating ripples that added to the pattern, amplifying the sense of something miraculous looming on the horizon. Yui smiled at the innate majesty of her spell, forgetting her inhibitions and opening her mouth to wordlessly sing, the crystalline tones ringing from the rooftop. The sound surprised Gyr, and he opened his eyes to look up at the woman he'd known for millennia, his mouth falling open in wonder. In all those years, he'd never heard the Huntress sing, a fact that he now counted to be a terrible shame. She had a truly beautiful voice, almost too sweet and soulful to belong to a human, and as she sang the notes of one of the most powerful holy spells, he found his own lips curving upward to match hers. It was worth the mana drain to get such a rare and wonderful performance from the attention-shy Shadow Elder. The power built, swirling around them as the cloaked woman channeled and shaped it, carefully nudging it away from its natural tendency to express itself in light and forcing it into the more complex realm of sound. After a moment, the melody had gained a harmony, an eerie ring from the air itself that echoed and multiplied until the woman sang with a veritable choir, each disembodied voice joining with hers to form a heart-wrenchingly haunting song. Salinye felt tears pressing at the back of her eyes, and though she could feel her exhaustion growing, she thought that perhaps the song was too wonderful to ever end. It hurt, though, at the same time, as if it pulled at the old scars and memories that she didn't ever want to face again. Mo sukoshi*... that little part of Yui that wasn't enveloped in the spell waited, pressed, calculated, trying to catch that moment in which the magic had enough strength. Unaware of Adrynna's fascinating little mind-game with the undead, she was fighting to hold out on only hers, Gyr's and Salinye's strength for as long as possible, but that time was quickly expiring with the exponential growth of the spell. Second by second, it got louder and stronger, while she and her two friends got weaker. She could feel their hearts pounding, sense their reserves of energy nearing exhaustion. Soon, it would be time to- ... soon... {* Japanese - 'A little more...'}

((1 of 3 - So it begins... the touchie-feelie mage circle... This is shaping up to be a few posts long, so bear with me. )) While Jirah, Daryl, and the others fought with the undead, Yui climbed to the peak of the roof, her silvery gaze scanning every inch of the Hostel around them. The undead were truly legion, and as she watched them swarming through the courtyard and crashing through the open hallways, she fought against an uncharacteristic bout of hopelessness. Even Ozymandias, his blades flying as he cut a magic-imbued swath through their enemies, had managed to only dent their incredible numbers. You've fought worse, the Huntress reminded herself as she watched the Loremaster raging across the courtyard. She had tens of thousands of years worth of memories filled with war against Nethers, and she'd fought countless battles against hordes of undead so massive that they'd filled the horizon. Of course, in those days, she'd had an army at her back and hundreds of nodes to draw from. A hundred thousand zombies would have been nothing to her before the fall of Terra, but now... Now, there was no kingdom, no collection of nodes, and no mana reserves to call upon. Now, it was only her and her spell against the masses, and she couldn't help but feel a bit inadequate. With friends and innocents relying on her for their defense, however, Temae Yui had absolutely no intention of failing. With a sharp nod, the young woman turned away from the scene below, her thoughts racing as she calculated the power and range necessary to eliminate every last enemy. The number she came to was not quite as bad as she'd feared, but it was still more than she could manage alone. Far more. For the spell to succeed, it would take every last one of them, mage or not. She knew just how to proceed. Down the slope of the roof, Gyrfalcon stood with his legs braced, the string of his bow still vibrating from the arrow that had just severed the spinal cord of the rotting corpse that had tried to sneak up behind Jirah. Yui called out to him, "Gyrfalcon-san get up here. We're almost ready!" and turned to Salinye without waiting for a response. The sorceress looked undeniably worn, but better after the touch of Merelas' amulet. "With the others occupied, I will have to draw most heavily from you and Gyr, Salinye-san," she explained, half of her listening to the ranger's booted steps as he sprinted over the tiles. "It should only be mildly uncomfortable, and of course, I will not be forcing anything. I can only take what you offer me, so I ask that you try to keep yourself relaxed and open. Alright?" Salinye nodded, her tilted eyes narrowing as she glanced down at the abominations that were ravaging her beloved home. "Do whatever you have to, Lady Yui. I'll give anything I can to get rid of these monsters." "You have my promise. They'll be gone in a matter of minutes." Gyr skidded to a stop beside them just as the Huntress finished her words, his keen gaze taking in both women at a glance. What he saw made his brows furrow. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked the human, noting the slump of her shoulders. The air around her, usually alive with healthy power, was still and sluggish, evocative of the current state of her magical strength. It didn't bode well for the spell. "We could find another way..." Yui shook her head. "You know there isn't one, Gyr-kun," she said familiarly, trying to summon a reassuring smile. It came out a tad weak, but there nonetheless. "I can do this. I won't let the spell fail." "I have no doubt," the half-elf responded, biting his tongue over the thought that completed the sentence. ... but I can't be as sure that you won't let yourself fail after you've cast it. I know you, Yui-chan. It was quite clear to him what kind of power her magic would require, and he wasn't sure the three of them had enough combined. If only they could reach Ozymandias...

{Transfered from the freewrites thread in order to consolidate poems.} A Never-Life 22 Jan, 2004 Nevermind the painful lies he told. Nevermind the heavy hand. Nevermind the way his eyes grew cold as she struggled just to stand. Never think about the way she'd scream. Never think about the sound. Never think about the wicked gleam of the blood upon the ground. Never fear the hatred in his tone. Never fear the sweat and tears. Never fear the snap of fragile bone as they progress through the years. Never look into her hollow eyes. Never look at his sick grin. Never look to see her unvoiced cries when he'd hurt her deep within. Rather, hold her hand when months have passed, as she's dying from his touch, and then never hope to never hurt when he loves you, too - too much.

#16 A Never-Life (Written during a boring meeting: 22 Jan, 2004) Nevermind the painful lies he told. Nevermind the heavy hand. Nevermind the way his eyes grew cold as she struggled just to stand. Never think about the way she'd scream. Never think about the sound. Never think about the wicked gleam of the blood upon the ground. Never fear the hatred in his tone. Never fear the sweat and tears. Never fear the snap of fragile bone as they progress through the years. Never look into her hollow eyes. Never look at his sick grin. Never look to see her unvoiced cries when he'd hurt her deep within. Rather, hold her hand when months have passed, as she's dying from his touch, and then never hope to never hurt when he loves you, too - too much. (I do write things other than poetry, nowadays, but... not much. My prose Muse is pretty occupied with bigger projects, so has no patience for freewrites. >_

Thank you, Orlan-kami-san.

http://www.patrickdurham.net/themightypen/index.php?showtopic=10917 Orlan-san... Help! My lovely poll seems to be broken. It gave me the message of "Fatal error: Call to undefined function: delete_link() in /home/themigh/public_html/sources/Topics.php on line 1575" when I hit the 'post' button, and unless you see something different from me, it's giving it every time I try to read the thread. Bad function! Bad! *slaps delete_link upside the head* Arigatoo gozaimasu, ~Yui

Wyvie, I can't wait! Is there going to be any kind of archive or recorded sessions if we want to catch the show, but can't make it some week or another? 7-9pm, PST is prime partying time for people who have a better social life than I do, after all. Yay! Three Huzzahs for DJ E.Literate! ~Yui

Actually, I don't know a thing about guitars, myself. ... there are ... other instruments that use metal strings, though they aren't as ... visible... *whistles innocently* If you do find someone to play it on a guitar, then please let me know if it still makes a good melody. I'm kind of curious, now. Thanks for the feedback. I read stanza four again and slapped my head, wondering what I was thinking when I wrote it. I completely agree with you that those words need changed, and you can bet I'll give it some thought and ... accidentally... strike out a word or two. I can't thank you enough for pointing it out to me. Ugh. Sincerely, ~Yui

Tralla, This looks like a lot of fun. Are you planning on two options at the end of each story segment, then? I can probably help (or get Aegon to help) with coding and logistics. It probably could even be done with little more than judicious use of the forum's own scripts, functions and links, but that's just a brainstorm. Also, if Orlan-san has accomplished the move or gotten close to it, we can host the project on the Pen's own resources. You can contact me pretty reliably via PM, so let me know some particulars about what you'll need. Thanks, ~Yui

Melody E slides up the metal strands and radiates to air. Its crystal shudder grows, expands and hauntingly hangs there. Like frozen time or taught-held breath, anticipation grips the rounding lines of treble clef while twice the heartbeat trips. Then F intrudes with half a step to steal the light from E tugging at the plain concept with nervous energy. For half as long it rules in waves that gracefully dance forth to meet and conquer silent staves, and thereby prove their worth. C ascends with mighty bound and guards as F retreats. The pristine clarity there found excuses its conceits. As power, high and pure and strong, reverberates and flows, three moments pass - an eon long - in resonating throes. All slips to flat when B remains to carry bright C's load, the partial strength that it contains assaulted, overflowed. Weaker, though, and one-half down, still bravely it endures, achieving equal time's renown to win acoustic wars. Somber G alone is left to linger in the end and offer up to those bereft the solace of a friend. With soft and steady voice, it coaxes back the silent norm, a decrescendo choice to ease the passing of the storm. _________ Everything you need is here. I hope you can find the true form of this piece of art. :wizzie: Sincerely, ~Yui {Edit in stanza 4, lines 2 and 4. Used to be 'o'erthrown and' and 'against defeated hordes'.}

Thank you, Wyvern! Your comments, as always, are absolutely wonderful and helpful. I appreciate the time you've taken to not only read the story, but to give us insightful and constructive feedback. For my part, I really appreciate the suggestions for improvement. I'll see if I can't clarify Yui-chan's reasons for being so interested in the whole situation. Falcon, your recent posts have been just great, and I was pleasantly surprised to check back in after Christmas and find even more of them! I guess I'll have to write up some great stuff to catch up with you after all this. Lovely. Yours, ~Yui

Yuki-san: The nature of writing is always kind of an area of interest for me because it's become such an important part of my life. ... it might also have something to do with the compulsory nature of my Muse, but I'm not sure. I'm so glad you can relate to 'These Words', and I appreciate the comments on that and the others. Falcon: No daunting allowed. I'm really enjoying Via Umbrae, though I know I'm slow. Thanks for writing with me! Quincunx: Form, flow and rhythm begin the process; emotion builds the body around the frame; and then wriggling around with the different words that can say what you want is how that nekkid form gets some clothes... or just pretty shinies, as per one's preference. I do think that Minta fits terribly well with the brain-mite bugs, and for that reason, I am very sorry. I hope they won't teach her any bad habits... er... worse habits. From me and the little editing Gestapo in my head: Thanks for the comments. Yours collectively, ~Yui

These Words {Published, Winter 03} These words are a slow, languid melody that hums its way free of my heart. These words are a thin, fragile part of me that cowers and quails from the start. Each line is a hard, sharpened rapier with power to play, cut, or kill. Each line is a glimpse at the shape I wear, though part of me hides from you still. These letters are clues to the mystery of all that is hidden within. These letters are windows that help you see the center at which I begin. Each syllable adds to a running count of holes in the walls 'round my soul. Each syllable means, as the numbers mount, that more can escape my control. These words are the cracks in my stone facade through which glows the soft, golden light Of a heart that will bleed at the slightest prod but loves with invincible might.

Thank you both, Dark and DragonQueen. I'm glad you enjoyed these, and I appreciate the kind comments.

{Transfered from the freewrites thread in order to consolidate poems.} Arrow Fly to the end of a runaway world where the sky burns in such sweet shades of bright azure and gold. Dance with the wind that is plummeting free from the cliff's face to fall so far to the cavernous deeps. Feel all the life to be discovered there on the razor edge where hearts beat hard to fight mercury time. Arc on your path to a ballistic end where you will bloom in a moment ripe with exquisite death.

{Transfered from the freewrites thread in order to consolidate poems.} Frantic The creatures in my bruised, black brain are dancing, jumping, dancing, leaping, rolling, wrestling, never sleeping, singing, yelling, shouting, laughing, screaming jokes 'tween spurts of clapping, waging war against my senses, driving busses through my fences, roaring, screeching, buzzing, spewing, taking, leaving, taking, doing, trampling footprints in grey matter, blasting hours of senseless chatter, rifling, ripping, bending, tearing, dropping, breaking, losing, scaring, taking all my hard-won thoughts and shovel'ing them in chipped clay pots, digging, sifting, slinging, dumping, scooping, throwing, flinging, humping, digging holes in all my plans, carting off ideas in cans, turning cartwheels, tumbling, flipping, climbing, falling, sticking, slipping! Those pesky little brain-mite bugs are making me FRANTIC!

Didn't anyone civilized ever travel down there and teach you people how to make air conditioners, Valdar? Life without them is too barbaric to contemplate. Tongue-in-cheek, ~Yui

Wyvie, Thanks for the feedback. I've done the final edit/revision of Chapter (14), hopefully keeping in mind your comments. I'll PM you a few revised paragraphs, later. Falcon... Hmmm... remind me whose turn it is, right now? *pokepokepokepoke* Thanks for reading, ~Yui

I hope it was wonderful, Lumpen. (I merged the topics, since Ayshela was so enthusiastic about saying happy birthday. )

Salinye's study had quickly become the gathering point for every still-living guest or staff member at Custos Manor, leading to the set up of a triage unit in the corner, where the grumpy old druid was busily employing his healing magics on a variety of wounds and breakages. Lethia, the first to benefit from his reviving touch, had assigned herself the role of nurse, patting hands and taking basic notes to help him in his duties. Meanwhile, the able-bodied mages and fighters had circled up nearer the door, animatedly discussing the situation. Salinye listened quietly while Jirah and Gyrfalcon worked together to paint as complete a picture of the attack as anyone knew, her face carefully impassive, but Yui noticed the tension in her shoulders, her tendency to clench her fist against her skirts. Despite the short time she'd known Salinye Celestialgrace, the young human understood that there was little that was more important to her than her hostel, and she could well imagine that it was tearing away at the elven sorceress to know that it was under such a vicious attack. "I suggest we fight fire with fire. If someone can track down the mind that's controlling all of these undead, then we should all gather our mystical resources to mount a direct assault to shatter it or at least disable it. I'm still ready for anything," came the input from a crimson-eyed woman that Yui didn't recognize, one who was clearly in need of a healer's services. Despite her bloody wounds, though, a strange variety of power danced in the air around her, leaving the Huntress wondering what she was capable of. Gyrfalcon seemed to be more familiar with the lady, or at least a good judge of talent. He shook his head, a frown marring his half-elven features. "The problem is tracking down the source of all this. We aren't mentats or Illusionists, for the most part, miss, and we don't have any idea of the strength of the person behind this. Besides, who's to say that the undead would stop if we took out the mage? Some animation spells can go on even after the caster is dead." "Agreed," Salinye chimed in, her eyes cold. "Right now, I'm more worried about taking care of the undead threatening my hostel and the people in it. We'll worry about the source when we have a little more leisure. What other options do we have?" Her eyes traveled the circle, meeting the gazes of each person in turn. Daryl smirked and flexed his hands. "We could always go back to throwing ourselves against the unending tide of zombies, liches and wraiths." When no one laughed, he had the good graces to look a bit abashed, mumbling, "Sorry... not helpful, huh?" Merelas frowned and chimed in, "Well, fire is pretty effective against them, but ... it's also effective against this building. If ... if worst comes to worst..." "Absolutely not." The manor's owner interrupted with a shake of her head, clenching her fists against her side once more, her harsh refusal earning a little wince from the newcomer. Normally, she might have tried to soften the blow, but the events of the day were quickly wearing away at her civility. When no one else offered an idea, Yui opened her mouth to speak, but she paused before she'd made a sound, her attention caught by a sensation outside of the physical realm. She turned her head, staring at the door to the hallway with a distant expression, as if she were trying to see through it. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gyrfalcon do the same, his hand instinctively going for the hilt of his katana. Both of them arrived at their conclusion in the same moment, and their eyes met across the circle. The two once-archmages recognized the unique signature of Ozymandias' most ancient magicks, and knowing that he had resorted to such drastic measures did nothing to ease their worries. It did, however, inspire the ranger to break into the silence that had descended over the group, though his eyes stayed on his human peer. "What about an Ascendant spell? Holy Word or Miracle?" Yui frowned slightly, her expression apologetic. "A sufficiently powerful Holy Word would easily disable the undead, but ... I'm out of mana. Completely. No matter how much I wish I could, I would not be able to cast something with enough strength behind it." "Perhaps not alone," Salinye chimed in, her expression thoughtful, "but what if we could provide you the mana to power the spell?" The elven sorceress glanced from Yui to Gyrfalcon, her eyes questioning. "A mana feed?" Gyr blinked, scratching at his chin for a moment. "Well... it could work, if everyone's willing. Yui-chan?" The young woman nodded, fighting to keep her exhaustion from showing. "I will do whatever I can, but not everyone here is a mage. Those who agree to help will need to understand that we are talking about sapping away some of your energy, perhaps even most of it, to feed the spell. It's a ... slightly intrusive process, though you needn't worry about dastardly mages rifling around in your heads or anything. It's just ... um... an uncomfortable sensation?" She glanced around the circle of heroes, her gaze resting for a moment on each one of them. "Every last person in the circle will be drained, and I can't know the extent of that drain until I start casting the spell and can sense how far the Word has to reach." Jirah frowned slightly, his brows coming together. "And if this doesn't work, we're all going to be weak as kittens and surrounded by undead?" Gyrfalcon answered with a shrug, "Well, we'll all be weaker anyway," earning him an even deeper frown from the assassin. "It won't fail, Jirah. I'll see to that," came the quiet assurance from the black-cloaked magess, her soft voice given away by the determination blazing in her eyes. "But the spell won't harm the hostel itself?" Salinye added in, her attention on the Huntress. Yui shook her head, ignoring a lock of hair that tickled her cheek at the motion. "No. The spell isn't force-based. It only unravels the necromantic powers that animate dead matter, thus it doesn't effect people or buildings or other enchantments." "It sounds like the best option we've had yet," Daryl chimed in, this time staying serious. He glanced at the others who remained silent, soliciting willing nods from Annael, Ayshela, Merelas and even Adrynna before he turned his wolfish gaze on the magess. "Tell us what we need to do." Yui nodded slightly, looking at Gyrfalcon. "What do you think? Should we try to move to somewhere more open, or risk doing it from in here?" The ranger frowned, glancing at the door as another loud crash echoed from down the halls somewhere. "It's a risk either way. If we try to move, we could end up trapped and ultimately unable to form the circle and cast. If we stay, the Word will take more power to work, won't it?" "Yes..." The other archmage nodded, her expression troubled. "It's a sound-transmitted spell, and though I can use mana to amplify my voice, it will be that much harder with four sturdy walls around me muffling it." An idea occured to her, and she turned to the hostel's keeper. "Salinye, can we get to a tower or the roof without having to go through the halls?"