Snypiuer

Dear Pen Diary, Well, still have writers block and can't find a solution so I can finish what I'm working on. Or start something else. You'd think being gagged and tied-up in the attic for about a week would give me time to become unblocked, but I might as well have mentally eaten a 10lb. cheese and Immodium sandwich for all the good it did me. Anyways, figure my muse will show up drunk and half dressed - eventually (once the Reality Dust Bunnies are done with her). 'Till then, I got two 20lb. bags of rice for the innards of the doll I'm going to make for the next One-Man Hide-and-Seek game. I'm thinking the bigger and more arms the better! Will update later.

GOOD NEWS! I've managed to escape and I am O.K. (dehydrated, but O.K.)! After lapsing in and out of consciousness for a few days, I found myself gagged and tied-up in my attic. Now, when one finds oneself gagged and tied-up in one's attic (after a brief moment of panic and struggling), one finds that they have a grand opportune time to contemplate their actions as a whole. It actually becomes quite calm and tranquil. One might call it (I dare say) therapeutic even. During my time of self-evaluation, I have come up with a rather astute and comprehensive list of 'missteps' I MAY have been considered to have taken. This list consist wholly of one item - a verbal mis-cue within my second attempt at this 'ritual'. O.K., their are some who would point out that I have a habit of dabbling in 'things' I shouldn't and that this in turn leads to many adverse conditions - such as the ghost story I wrote about in a previous post and (of course) my most recent predicament. They would also point out that doing such 'things' in a house already haunted might be considered 'unwise'. Not only did my Grandfather build this house himself in the early 1900's, he also died in it. The rumor that there is money buried some where and the fact that an Aunt was still-born and buried on the property (small West Texas town, it was legal back then) only adds to it since the location of both are now unknown. Needless to say, there has been more then any houses' fair share of unusual goings on within (and surrounding) its' walls - so much so, that when an individual ACTUALLY came through my window in the early A.M. one night, I wasn't even startled. I simply informed him that he was about to die and it would be to his benefit to leave, which he did after a cigarette - he was stoned out of his mind, said he had made a mistake (wrong house) and couldn't get it together enough to even fall back out the window. I calmed him down with a cig, then reminded him with a rather large survival knife that he was, indeed, in the wrong house and about to die for his inaccuracy (truth be told, had I had a gun, I would have simply shot him - a knife takes too much energy, so he was lucky on that count). But I digress. Others may list the fact that I used blood to make red thread (I only had white thread and I'm very resourceful) as a misstep on my part. Then there are those who would say that my TOTAL lack and disregard for safety and the ACTUAL rules of the ritual MIGHT have had some little bearing on the situation I have recently found myself in. I reject these claims in their entirety. No, I blame gas. At the time of naming the second doll, I was gaseous. Instead of naming him 'Graunt, Korvak Slayer', it came out as 'Graunt Korvak (gaseous pause), Slayer' thereby leading it to believe (in my opinion) that he was related in some way to Korvak and his TITLE was 'Slayer'. All in all, not his fault really. Well, after almost a week, I was able to escape and now have a different concern - all my Cheese Nips, dill pickles and Yoohoos are missing. Rather disconcerting. That being said, I have come to the conclusion that using cheap 4 inch Beanie Baby knock-offs from those 25 cent crane machines (Korvak being a Panda Bear and Graunt a Zebra) was foolish. I'm thinking I need something much bigger - with actual hands. Will let you know when I find a suitable subject. I am PSYCHED! I have a better feeling about this then I had about my previous attempts! It just feels. . . right. Toodles!

O.K., sooooooo, (I'm guessing) naming it Korvak, Drinker of Souls wasn't a very joyfull decision either? All righty then. No prob. Tonight I'll make "Graunt, Korvak Slayer" and see what happens. I got a good feeling about this! Toodles!

Reads poster and begins to ruffle through a large stack of recipes that materializes in front of him, muttering "No. No. Not that one. Mayyybee. . .no. Aha! No. No." Continues muttering as he searches through stack as he, and it, slowly drift down the hall. OOC: Interseting, will see if I can come up with something before commiting though.

Dear Pen Diary, Found you adding stability to a wobbily table, sorry about that. Been a while. Have not been able to finish story I'm working on and no insperation for anything else. Do have one idea for an alternate story on Signe, but stuck on that one also. Must be the Reality Dust Bunnies, again. Well, need to find a missing possessed doll (thinking he's joined the dust bunnies in some nefarious plot against me). Maybe I'll get some insperation when I find him. Write to you later.

Nothing to worry about, really, but what do you do if you can't find the doll? Also, was it unwise to: 1. Name it "Korvak, Drinker of Souls" and 2. Decide to just go to sleep and look for it later? Just asking.

O.K., you guys are rich bachelors. Try this: 1. Save enough money for a loaf of bread (day old or .59 cent store brand works). 2. Buy said loaf. 3. Go to local 7-11 and pocket: A. Handful of salt packets B. Handful of pepper packets C. Handful of ketchup packets D. Handful of mustard packets Mix ingredients A through D and spread on slices of bread. Toast in oven. Enjoy. For a while, Ramen was a luxury for Snypiuer (A pack of ramen feeds you for a day, a loaf of toasted bread w/ketchup-mustard mix feeds you for a week). One that's a little better: !. Bag large shell macaroni 2. Large can tomato sauce 3. Grated cheese (I prefer Colby-Jack) 4. Seasonings: Salt, Pepper, Cumin, Italian seasoning mix Boil shells to desired firmness (I boil for about 12 min.) Drain. Mix in Sauce and cheese (or sprinkle cheese on top when serving - your choice). Add seasoning to taste. I also add a little lemon juice and garlic (But that's me). If you have the money, cook up some ground beef and add to mix. If any left, mix in a little olive oil and bake the leftovers the next day.

You're killing me, simply killing me. I know there's no such thing as an original idea. . . but this?! I haven't finished what I'm working on now, let alone started on one of these, and its already been done! Feeling very inferior at this point in time!

Isn't she though!?!? I want to pick her up and carry her around!!!

Well, as they say, "There's no such thing as an original idea." That's O.K. Glad to see there are those who like the idea and see a couple I want to try when I'm finished with my current project (stuck on a key point). I was thinking of a Wyvern who is greedy because he can 'sense' value. Taste, feel, smell, etc. how much an item is actually worth (the more valuable, the more succulent the taste, sweeter the smell, sensual the feel, etc.) when he first comes into contact with any given item and will retain the knowledge, but the sensation fades - and he is addicted to that sense, with all that entails (DT's, doing what ever it takes to get a 'fix', etc.). OR, a 1920's Signe Pin-up girl/uber-spy dilly OR *oohhhhh!!!!* a NUN!!!!!. Also kinda liked Hjolnai's Alten character (not sure if I'd write him much different though). I'm also kind of in the same situation as him, need to read up on everyone to get a better feel - then again, it might be a good thing to not have that good a grasp on a character so as not to be TOO swayed to keep to the characters' true self. Just thoughts right now. Can't wait to see what stories others come up with!

I'm working on something right now and am using (with permission) other peoples characters. I'm trying my best to keep to the canon of their character, but I have been known to God-mode others and that brought to mind an idea: How do others see our characters? How would someone else write them? SO, I propose a thread where one can write a short little story using others characters (with permission, of course) to show how that character would be if seen 'Through the eyes of another'. NONE of the stories would be considered official (they would essentially exist in an alternate Universe), but the owner of the character could use what is written if they like. Once again, ONLY those characters that their owners CHOOSE to let be used would be fair game. Once I'm done with what I'm working on now, there are a few characters I'd like to get hold of! If anyone wants to, just let it be known.

I hope you enjoy her as much as I do. Let me know!

Snypiuer has been lovin' himself some Kate Micucci. O.K., Snypiuer has a soft spot for ukulele music (Who doesn't love a 6'3"/459 lb. Polynesian mountain of a human being strumming a tiny 4 stringed instrument and singing "Over the Rainbow" to an island rhythm in a high pitched tenor?), that's how I got turned on to Kate. I saw her sing and play the ukulele on Scrubs - where she portrayed Ted's girlfriend, Stephanie "The Gooch" Gooch. Not only does she have some great ukulele and comedic/novelty songs (solo and with Riki Lindhome as the group "Garfunkel and Oates"), but she also has some really good SONGS. Her "Walking in Los Angeles" is a throw back to the days of "King of the Road" (IMO-of course) and her "Just Say When" is touching and just plain good. Pile on the fact that I find her singing voice to be amazing and you don't even have to mention that she is one of the cutest, most adorable women I've ever seen - with big eyes and a smile that transforms her face from cute to rather pretty. I don't know how hard it is for her to come up with her songs, but whether it's a long drawn out process or off the top of her head, she has the kind of talent I wish I had. I'm just sayin'.

They say everyone has a 'talent', something that makes them special - for the life of the individual behind 'Snypiuer', he can't find his. If it was up to you and your talent to save the world, what would that talent be and how would it save the world? "The world will end without you, how can you save it?"

O.K., it's obvious my first attempt to HOST an RP (28 Weeks Later) has failed. Being the optimistic pessimist that I am, I am not surprised BUT, hope to learn from it. I can personally see several things I did wrong. Still, I would like input from others so that I may learn from it. Give advice. Be critical. Be harsh. Be mean. Just don't call me Shirley. Thanks for ANY input.

The red leisure suit clad penguin drops like a Brazilian soccer star from the slight prod in back from Rydia and begins flopping and writhing in IMMENSE (feigned?!) pain. His lime green and powdered blue clad cohorts drop their sign and join him. The polar bear looks up and sees what is going on, reaches behind itself and pulls forth (carefully noting this interruption in its' lunch break): 1 walrus dressed in a running suit with LOTS of gold chains 2 otters dressed in business suits with bow ties The polar bear continues its' lunch break while the walrus runs to the aid of the penguins - all of whom are now wearing neck braces and various casts. The walrus begins orating on the plight of the penguins and (by extension) ALL Arctic animals. How they are downtrodden and treated harshly by individuals such as Wyvern - Rydia being nothing more then an unwitting pawn in Wyvern's schemes. The otters then serve Wyvern with cease and desist orders and papers naming him as defendant in a multi-billion geld civil law suit. Rydia is served with summons to appear in said civil law suit as a witness for the plaintiff.

Fear is no. Confidence is YES! Fear is ARGHH!! Confidence is A-HA! Fear is being cheesy. Confidence is being CHEESY!

OOC: For all you young whippersnapper's, Ed Sullivan was a famous guy. . . .really. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A salamander steps up to the microphone. He's short and wears a dinner jacket with wide, square shoulders. With pursed lips he says, "Good evening Lady's, gentlemen and individuals of indeterminate gender and/or repute. My name is Ed Salamander and we have a really good shoe for you tonight, a really good shoe. We will be having an open mic, so we're inviting anybody who wants to, to step up and sing, do some jokes, one act play, what ever they feel like. We were expecting one Topo Gigo, T-o-p-o Gi-go, is NOT here, so, our first performers will be a group of 4 young singers -The SSS!" Snypiuer and his 3 squirrel companions step on stage. Sylv on drums, Pith on lead/rhythm lute, Mr. Moog on base lute and Snypiuer on lead vocals (a cluster of boos arise from the audience when this is noticed) and rhythm lute. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!~~~ OOC: The song is sung to Rick Springfield's 'Jessie's Girl' and (I must say) something that seems to has to have been done before. I checked (O.K. not TOO hard - do you have ANY idea how much stuff comes up when you search for Wyvern and geld?) and found nothing. So, if this is plagiarism of sorts, please except my sincerest apologies. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A squeal of feedback comes from the mic as Snypiuer speaks, "Good evening. We're The SSS and this is 'Wyvern's Geld'" (Mr. Moog starts in with the opening base line) Wyvern is a friend, Yeah I know he's been a good friend of mine But lately something's changed It ain't hard to define Wyvern's got himself some geld And I want to make it mine But he guards it with greedy eyes As he's holdin' it with his talons, I just know it! And he's stackin' and countin' it late, late at night You know I wish that I had Wyvern's geld I wish that I had Wyvern's geld Where can I find it, some money like that? I'll distract him with a parade That doesn't seem to take his gaze from his change You know it gets all dirty 'cause he hides it 'neath his suit I wanna take away all his geld but my @ss he'd probably shoot 'Cause he guards it with greedy eyes As he's holdin' it with his talons, I just know it! And he's stackin' and countin' it late, late at night You know I wish that I had Wyvern's geld I wish that I had Wyvern's geld Where can I find it, some money like that? Like Wyvern's geld I wish that I had Wyvern's geld Where can I find it, some money... Where can I find it, some money like that? And I'm lookin' for the most opportune time Wonderin' when he just won't see me I've been stealthy; I've been cool with trip lines Ain't that the way a thief's supposed to be? Tell me Why can't I find some money like that? You know I wish that I had Wyvern's geld I wish that I had Wyvern's geld I want Wyvern's geld Where can I find it, some money like that? Like Wyvern's geld I wish that I had Wyvern's geld I want, I want Wyvern's geld The SSS end the song and thank the crowd, "Thank you! You're great! We love you all! We'll be back later!" Ed comes back, "Wasn't that great? The SSS will be back later. Now T-o-p-o Gi. . . ." (looks off stage and whispers "Still not here?"") continues to crowd, "Our next performer is. . ."

A small alarm can be heard and the polar bear reaches behind itself and brings forth a small pocket watch. Looking at it and giving a small nod, the polar bear leans its' sign against the polling booth as it reaches back around and pulls these items from behind itself: 1 picnic blanket 1 picnic basket 3 penguins dressed in leisure suits: 1 Lime Green 1 Powder Blue 1 Red As the polar bear sets up its' picnic, the penguins in Powder Blue and Lime Green pick up the sign and (wobbly) begin to walk in circles with it. The one in Red begins handing out AAFGW cards. The polar bear removes a wine glass and bottle of red wine from the basket, along with a very large salad bowl (with a sticker on it that reads, "SALAD IS MURDER!") filled with. . . .a very big salad. The polar bear begins its' lunch break (unions, go figure).

Inaction is ______________. Action is filling in the blank. Too cheesy?

Everyone freezes in place as the biggest polar bear ANYONE has ever even heard of lumbers into their midst (accompanied by a tiny, tinkling bell sound), sits down right next to the polling station and holds up a sign that reads (Why it's written in blood red is any body's guess): Arctic Animals For Global Warming ENOUGH with the cold already! We want to be warm too! And begins handing out cards with the initials "AAFGW" scribbled on them (Once again, in blood red). Around its' neck is a thick leather collar with a little bell and name tag that reads "CAT" (which is pronounced "See-Ay-Tee"). At this point, it looks down at Curiosity and softly meows.

The magical defenses of the Keep were strained to their limits and starting to fail at points. Boulders flung at the southern wall were now creating small gaps and the invading army began concentrating their assault on those spots. A large group of undead warriors took up a defended position just outside of bow range near a gap larger then the rest, prepared to flood into it as soon as it was big enough to breach the wall. (NOTE: These are not the classic lumbering, slow moving undead. Nor are they the re-imagined 'feel no pain so they can run at full speed endlessly' undead. They are more along the line of the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' undead, leaning toward the re-imagined undead.) Meanwhile, the front gates were now fully ablaze from dragon fire and several dragons had now created gaps in the other walls big enough to reach through and began spewing fire through them as they continued to tear away at them. Tzimfemme suddenly found herself surrounded by, what to her was, silence. The meteor storm that had concentrated around her had abruptly stopped. She lay there, listening. Just when she believed she could hear something, a figure moved toward her through the smoke and molten destruction that surrounded her. A being about 10 feet tall approached her. It was androgynous, perfectly toned, with wings and silver - not metallic, but shiny. It seemed to glow. It stopped just outside her consecrated position. It looked around at the markings and gave a small smile. For a moment, it stared at her, head cocked slightly as if puzzled or, perhaps, amused. Raising a finger to it's lips, it made a 'shushing' motion and gently tossed a rolled parchment to her. It turned and disappeared back into the smoke. She heard the voice from above say, "What the?" as she reached for the parchment. At that very moment, she also heard a noise from below. As Appy raced to assist Apaltra, she found herself running wildly in an attempt to to avoid falling debris, lightning bolts and miscellaneous projectiles. Meanwhile, Apaltra faced several undead treants and a Verdant mage of death and decay alone. As Alten made his way to the main building with his adversary, he began to notice that his wound was beginning to feel better and his strength was no longer weakening. He also noticed his adversary's breathing became smoother. He brought him into the building and lay him down on a table. He had every intention of telling one of the many individuals around him to give medical attention to the wounded man and then place him in custody. Instead, a strange thought entered his mind, "I should slice his throat before it's too late." Alten backed up and looked closely at the unconscious man. His burgundy robe was lighter then before. Alten then looked at the piece of robe he had cut to bind his own wound with. It should be soaked with blood, yet it was dry and fading. He found his wound was sealed and he felt strong. That alien thought was again entered his mind, "I should slice his throat." Movement from the fallen man caught his eye. The man was holding a dagger by the blade and holding the handle out to Alten. With a smile, he lifted his chin, exposing his neck. Xaious and Nickoli sprint for the upper levels took longer then they thought it would. Shifting walls, shifting time and countless versions of the same minotaur slowed their progress. The shifting time troubled Xaious the most. Time flows like a river, while it may branch, each branch becomes it's own time line - flowing back and forth along itself. Time lines do not cross. They can't. If they did, they would become DIFFERENT time lines! Yet, here he was, witnessing the impossible - time lines crossing and remaining the same. Kailea and the remaining guards were taken by surprise as the lights, confetti, music and wiggle worms from the Almost Dragonic Brand Center of Attention Wand™ raced through them to catch up with Wyvern. Wyvern thought to himself, "Center of Attention Wand™?!" as he was carried along.

Alten was finding himself very hard pressed. His opponents were adjusting to him faster and their attacks were becoming more coordinated. He was basically in full defense mode and knew he must do something quick before it was too late. As they fought back and forth across the yard, they came closer to the Keep's outer walls, which were now beginning to show larger and larger cracks while pieces of the wall were starting to fall from the top. The sound of the dragons on the other side grew as they pounded against the Keep's defenses. The ground shook with each strike and Alten and his foes found themselves with the added tasks of keeping their footing and dodging falling bits of wall as they fought. Kailea not only ran out into the fray, she ran right into the middle of it. So far only several small groups of invaders had managed to enter the walls of the Keep (most likely they were there before the initial attack - waiting). The largest of these groups was the one that had bundled up Wyvern and was headed out of the Keep to the south toward the invading army. Kailea was lucky enough to not only exit her rooms seconds before an inbound boulder took up residence in them, but she had the great good fortune to exit right as the very group that had Wyvern was in front of her door. The blast from the boulder shot her right into their midst. There was bedlam for a moment as cries of, "PROTECT WYVERN!" and "QUICK, GET THE BOSS TO SAFETY!" rang out all around her (their intentions of 'protecting' Wyvern was VERY clear - as if they wanted to make sure everyone who could hear knew it). She caught a swift glance of a bewildered Wyvern as he was hustled off and several of his 'gaurds' surrounded her. One said, "It's just a girl!" He was dead before he hit the floor (in fact, he was dead before he finished his sentence, he just didn't know it.) - she said to herself, "Guess the katana has some good uses." That's when she noticed the remaining guards were guardsno longer looking at her like she was 'just' a girl. Xaious and Nickoli had only gotten a few feet from the room when there was a 'shift'. They looked at each other and then back at the room. . .at least where it used to be. Nothing but a solid wall now stood where the room once was. There was another 'shift' and they looked back to where they were originally headed - the corridor they had been headed down was now an open room with 3 hallways branching from it. Xaious also noticed that with each 'shift', time itself fluctuated. Fluctuated in such a way that he had never seen before, a way he never even thought possible - mainly because it wasn't. Nickoli said, "That's odd." In the distance, slightly closer then the rumbling of the attacks outside, a deep 'huffing' noise could be heard. There was another 'shift' and they once again stood in a corridor, only it now went off to their left and right. The 'huffing' seemed to be getting closer.

As Wyvern slowly backed up, he caught a flash of movement to his right. Already nervous, he hurriedly reached into his smoking jacket and pulled out his Almost Dragonic Brand Localized Disintegration Wand™ and fired it off without thinking. Wyvern was more surprised then anyone else when bright spot lights focused on him through the smoke, music started blaring around him, confetti blew all around him (much of which was catching fire) and giant air powered wiggle worms popped up around him. In horror, Wyvern looked at the wand in his claw and read the label on it 'Almost Dragonic Brand Center of Attention Wand™'. He froze in place as he thought to himself, "There is no such thing as an Almost Dragonic Brand Center of Attention Wand™!". The shock distracted him long enough to get captured. The fact that he was the center of attention was why so many of the Keep's citizens saw when a group of dark clad intruders quickly surrounded Wyvern, bundled him up and whisked him away. The spot lights, music, confetti and wiggle worms raced after them as they quickly made their way out of the Keep - to the south. It wasn't long 'till word got out that Wyvern was taken. What was more troubling is what else began to circulate through the Keep: The intruders were not only very careful with Wyvern, their conversation to each other and him was clearly overheard (very surprising considering all the noise). It was said that they continually told each other to be careful with him, they assured him of his safety and repeatedly referred to Wyvern as "Boss." Alten gently settled an injured Pennite next to others who had sought refuge inside a very well built supply shed, as he exited to find others in need of help, his attention was drawn to Wyvern at the moment he set off his Almost Dragonic Brand Center of Attention Wand™, taking in the scene, he clearly saw the group of intruders that surrounded Wyvern before they even moved from the shadows. He sped to Wyvern's aid, but before he could reach him, Alten himself was attacked. He easily side stepped a slashing blow from a katana on his right, but was hard pressed to avoid a thrown axe that appeared from the smoke. The fact that the katana attack was clearly telegraphed and the axe was thrown exactly at where his head was GOING to be, brought his full attention to his own situation - clearly, his assailants were skilled. Alten found himself confronted by three figures: All about his height and build, bald and dressed in loose, dark burgundy robes (first contact with any of them reveals tight fitting, yet supple, leather armor beneath these robes) with face scarves. Behind the scarves, he could see that their eyes were solid and the same color as their robes. The one in the center spoke in a strange tongue as the two to either side of him attacked. A katana from his right and a short staff from the left. Meanwhile, the meteor storm began to focus around Tzimfemme's location and lessening elsewhere. The ground around her shook more and more violently and the voice from above said, "What is it that you hear?". Apaltra composes herself as the agonizing screaming in her head (a remarkable feat considering her proximity to it's source), not only continues, but increases as three more undead treants rise, twisted and deformed, their tortured wailing echoing for all those who can communicate with nature to hear. They move towards the Keep, each step leaving a trail of decay and rot. She thinks to herself, "Nature is about birth, life and (yes) death - But this, this is an abomination. Undeath is not meant for it." Kikuyu and Degorram set their sights on the advancing shadows, a flash of bone white can be seen at times and the familiar smell of undeath strengthens at their approach. In the distance, arms raised as if guiding the shadows, a lone, dark robed figure stands. A familiar (yet slightly different) aura emanates from him. Cracks begin to appear in the outer walls of the Keep and the gates begin to smolder as the Dragons continue their attacks unhindered. A boulder slams into the Keep's magic shield, vaporizing as the siege engines come into range. More and more boulders vaporize on contact. . . until one finally gets through. A shout of triumph is heard from the advancing army.

As Tzimfemme lay upon the ground, she heard a voice. Not what she was expecting, especially since it seemed to come from above, "Are you?" The meteor storm grew stronger around her. Molten rock pounded down and acrid fumes filled the air. The ground shook and trembled, as if trying to dislodge her. The voice spoke again, "Are you. . .really?" As Appy sped to help, Apaltra stood her ground shifting tree after tree out of harms way, knowing full well she could save only so many. She had felt when one of the oldest and mightiest was destroyed. The fact that she could not save it pressed upon her even more since it lay twisted and dead within her view. She doubled her efforts to shifting trees in an attempt to block the image from her mind. It was beginning to work when her attention was torn back to the fallen tree. There beside it stood a woman dressed in robes of the most ancient style of Verdant mages. Her face was young and beautiful, with full lips like rose petals against milk white skin and eyes the color of a crystal clear mountain lake. Apaltra's heart lept with hope as she saw the mage place her hands upon the tree. Her heart fell to her feet even faster as she clasped her hands to her head. An agonizing scream of unearthly pain and sorrow echoed through Apaltra's head as she stumbled from it's sudden onset. The tree moved and began to stand, twisted and deformed. The mage had brought it to life as an undead treant. That's when Apaltra noticed that the mage's robes were the color of death and decay. The mage smiled and stared at her with crystal clear unseeing eyes. As Kikuyu and Degorram readied themselves, the window blew inwards sending shards of glass everywhere. They protected their eyes and dodged the worst of it. When they looked back at where the window used to be, a black bird sat upon the ledge. The smell of rotting corpses came from it as it spoke in a low ghoulish voice, "Death is eternal, it can not be defeated. Only put aside for a brief time." The bird began to disintegrate before their eyes. Neither was too sure, but both thought that they could barely hear a whisper as it turned to dust and blew away, "He comes." In the distance they saw shadows moving towards the Keep. More and more lightning bolts made it past the Keep's defenses. Masonry exploded and fell from roof tops with each strike, sending people running in panic. Those within the Keep that had no magic power or abilities wondered at why those who did were not using their power to protect them from the lightning. It became clear why when the dragons began blasting the gates of the Keep with their fire and bashing and trying to tear down the walls - magic to defend the Keep from lightning would be wasted if there was none left to use against the dragons. To the south, siege engines could now be seen as the army approached the Keep.