Tanuchan

~Brief Description~ Thomas of Taigel is a roaming minstrel without attachments (so far) or enemies (that he's aware of), who earns his living through his great skill with words (in his opinion) and lute (the only unanimity among his listeners). He's a charming man in his thirties, who has had a great deal of adventures that he can't start to put into words (thankfully, according to some) because of their variety. Rather clumsy (although he flatly refuses to acknowledge it), in all his career as a Minstrel his performance has only failed to achieve its usual (catastrophic) result twice; sharp tongues say that he owed it to his puppy-dog eyes and to the fact that he had had in both times a close female relative of the village Head standing or sitting beside him. Back to Index

Brief Description History Abilities Magical Abilities Items Physical Description Personality Relationships Other

Written in collaboration with Venefyxatu ~~~~~~~~~~ Thomas stepped out of the shadows, having just arrived at the Campsite. He looked around, marveled at the organization and the cozy feeling that came from the campfire and the surrounding area. He inhaled deeply, letting the smells of night and... marshmallows?... feel his mind, and smiled happily. "Good evening, gentle lady..." He bowed to Sweetcherrie, who was still patting Tom's head and looking around in a somewhat frenzied way. She blinked, and hastily stood up to greet the new arrival. "Good evening... I don't believe we've met...?" He bowed again with a flourish and a captivating smile, "Thomas of Taigel, Minstrel, at your service, my lady. And I think we've met somewhere else, but at the time I was somewhat busy with mundane issues and didn't have the time to make your acquaintance - a fact which I regret deeply." Sweetcherrie blinked again, while Thomas grimaced inwardly remembering his tenure as kitchen/tavern helper during Reverie's Slam Poetry competition. Then, he turned to the smal figure still whimpering and sniffling at their feet. "Hello, little friend... what is the trouble?" Tom looked up, and stared directly into Thomas' hazel eyes. He gulped, and with a trembling voice he summarized the previous events. "... they're killers, I tell you... " Thomas sat besides the still sniffling Tom, unslinging his lute and fingering it softly - which caught Tom's immediate attention. The small cloaked figure turned towards him some more, with big shining eyes visible in the shadows of his hood. So, little friend vegetables are fun - how many games can you play with one? Rolll the tomatoes - so red they go! Broccolli give way for the teams to play. Parsley tickles the skin of tomatoes, faster they roll towards the goal. A lettuce sprouts to bar the path - mushrooms come to ladder away... And tomatoes roll towards the goal, aiming with heart to win the part. Cheering cauliflowers - full of energy - open their arms - full of flowers - to hug tomatoes for being such fun! Tom started chuckling, bouncing up and down a little to the soft rhythm that Thomas imprinted to the half-sung words, and Sweetcherrie smiled at both of them, grateful for the distraction the Minstrel had provided. The thought of asking Thomas to sing for them later on crossed her mind, but lingered there just for a moment - she would never know how fortunate that was, for the only songs Thomas could present without blundering were exactly that kind of playful, non-sensical improvisation that he had used to cheer Tom up. Tom sat quietly for a few more moments after the song had ended, still enjoying the notes that were lingering in his mind. Then, completely happy again, he suddenly jumped up and started bouncing in circles around Thomas, exclaiming what a great song that had been, and how he was sure that someone who could sing such wonderful songs couldn't be a killer at all, and that he'd absolutely really really loved that song, and that he hoped that Sweetcherrie had also loved it, she had, hadn't she? Never once stopping for answers, he bounced over to Sweetcherrie, to ask her whether she'd enjoyed the song and to thank her for trying to cheer him up, even though Thomas had done a better job, but thanks anyway, and that he hoped that she'd been only joking when she said that about the roasted vegetables, and and and and !

Written in collaboration with Venefyxatu, and to be concluded in a later post ~~~~~~~~ Tanny had observed, from a shaded spot, Achib and You Stupid Animal IV's arrival and Venefyxatu's help to set them up. Now, curious, she decided to see what the Arab had besides the books she was interested in. As tempted as she was to enter his tent as a wolf, she thought of his various possible reactions - and his camel's - and shimmered into her human form right before stepping into the "Magickel bo0k Shoppe". She halted for a moment and blinked, amazed at how many items were stuffed into it. On the floor, at least four carpets were lying across each other. Stacks of interesting-looking items were occupying most of the groundspace, although some room was left for one person to sit. Besides that, Achib was sitting cross-legged on his nailbed, smoking what looked to be an antique waterpipe. Behind him, a few bags with book-shapes sticking out were barely visible in the shadows. She stooped to examine the carpets, running her fingertips on their smooth, inviting surface, while Achib sat waiting politely, giving her the time to get used to the surroundings and have a look around as was custom in his country. Of course, the main reason was that this would most likely lead to her finding something that would interest her. As she examined the articles spread all around her, her eyes rested on a delicate tiara made of some silvery material set with tiny light-green stones. With a smile, she picked it, and noticed how it glinted even in the subsided light of Achib's tent. Carefully, she probed it with a tendril of earth energy, sensing then a faint touch of water. She turned to Achib, who smiled, put his hands together and bowed from his sitting position. "Welcome, fair lady. I see that you are interested in one of my items?" "Yes. This tiara... what does it do?" With a gesture, he invited her to sit on one of the carpets, and somehow the same gesture managed to convey that she could smoke from the water-pipe as well. "Now that, is a very special tiara. It has once belonged to Empress Abide Ahlie Ajouz Sulayfir Amira Azale di'Krejda. The reason why everyone in my country knows her is because she had the power to use any wooden object as a portal. So she could travel really really really quickly to wherever she was needed." "I see... and how... " "The most famous story is how one of her enemies once left her deep in the forest so he could take the throne from her because he thought she would die in the forest, you know, far away from home and lost so she couldn't return and probably would be eaten by wild animals. But she, she was very clever woman, you see, and she had the tiara hidden in her pocket. So as soon as the man left she put it on, walked into the nearest tree. And by the time he came back to the palace she was of course already sitting on the trone because it was made of wood and she just stepped out of it and so she had him arrested." "Huh... wait... do you mean..." Achib went on, never once seeming to notice the attempts Tanny made to edge a word in. "And you see, the green stone, it is symbol of nature, of plant and trees, so it is really really very very close to it, which makes the portals even easier to use. It just works when you have it on." Taking advantage of his pause to breathe, Tanny hastily interrupted with a question. "But that was her power, and the tiara just helped, right? It's not this object that creates the portal." "Oh yesyesyes ... it is by wearing the tiara that you gain the power to create the portals. But don't expect to see flashing portals popping up ... it is just as though the tree or the wooden object itself becomes a kind of gateway." "And how does one know where the portal gets them?" "Why, it takes you where you want to go of course! The most famous words of Wahed Gamal, the mage who created it, are "Where do you want to go today?" " Tanny nodded, but as she inquired about the price she was astonished by the amount asked. Shaking her head, she put the tiara back where it was, and started to stand up. Achib hurried to help her but at the same time he picked up the tiara again. "I'm sorry, but in my country it is the custom to start with a price that is much too high and then try to agree on a lower price that both can accept. Unless you want to pay more, of course, in which case it will be higher." "Well, I certainly don't want to pay more... " A quite long haggling ensued, caused mostly by Achib's prattle about the virtues and properties of such precious object, and finally Tanny agreed on a price. She left the tent some minutes later, curious to test the tiara. ~continues below~ Edit: adding link

Just a question... can we RP our reactions to Achib's tent in your thread, or is that exclusive for your own posts and ours after we get the book?

Well, Katz... I was really sure you were the wolf this time. About the Seer... no, I never read her post as coming from the Seer. Maybe because this time I was playing right IC, without bothering much with reading between the lines... I guess I didn't want to worry about being killed or not, but not so much as to accept a lynching meekly Ozy? Call that a lucky guess. He seemed a bit suspicious in his voting, and was my best option. Venefyxatu followed my reasoning, and I suppose he had quite some fun. I don't remember anymore why I ended up suspecting Ozy, really.

I'm in... just out of ideas right now. I'll be back later with a character ~~~~~~~~~ Edit: Character below Katelyn of House Minobee Katelyn and Karen of House Minobee, identical twins, have long hair the color of molten silver that glints and sparkles in the sun. Both sisters usually wear it braided and adorned with tiny jewels (blue/green/grey shades for Katelyn, red/orange/yellow for Karen). They have milky-white skin, and dark-blue eyes - the color of the sea during a storm - that can become as clear as peridot-green when they're angry. Both sisters are minor mages, with skills in simple enchantments and illusions. In their demoness forms, both sisters are tall, with pearl-white skin, piercing violet eyes, and a mane of copper-red hair that cascades over their shoulders. Their skin is covered with thousands of tiny, perfect scales - Katelyn's glowing sapphire-blue, Karen's glowing ruby-red. Katelyn and Karen are identified by the jewels they use in their hair, and by the color of their scales in demoness form. Otherwise, they're absolutely identical. ~~~~~~ Edit: House changed, and info added

YAY! And thank you, Venefyxatu, for a thoroughly enjoyable game! I did have fun, lots of! *hugs* Who's next, now? Gryph?

As far as I know, it is his first and he keeps saying he doesn't write poetry. Darkness pools around me Curtains protect my blessed sleep. Diving back in dreams.

The lights blinked and went out, right in the middle of Kyraine's delicate work. Cursing in a very little lady-like way, she sat down carefully and sighed. Riiiiight... one more sample lost. Does it mean now that there's someone who wants the darkness for its unexcusable work? We have never had power failures before; just scheduled ones for maintenance, and in parts of the Vault. Who can have access to main power switch and the backups? That janitor guy... the one no one seems to notice. No one has ever thought of him, right... always quite invisible. I wonder. I wonder if I'm getting paranoid. Hah! Shrugging, Kyraine just sat and let her thoughts wander. Darkness could be a blessing for a tired mind.

Lenny... The kids... DJ and Mary. Cook. The ones who have been locked... Irene, and Billie Jo. The ones who have been talked about... Cook, and myself. Kyraine sighed, half-throwing her pencil across the table. "There's no meaning in all this," she mumbles to herself. "There's not enough genetic pattern in whatever material I received. There's nothing visible in the deaths. I wish you'd be here, Darien..." She forced herself to relax, her eyes following the patterns of the genetic maps in front of her. Then she thought of the people who had talked to her, the ones who had visited her lab, those who had brought material for her research. Richard Braggins... writer. Someone who hasn't written anything since the Door was closed. Someone who needs inspiration... that usually comes from the small hints of life. Life, and its variety. What variety is there in a Vault? Not even genetic variety would survive after enough generations... life-style surely doesn't stand a chance. What would I do if all of a sudden everything that drives my research was pooled and molded into just one big thing? I might wish for variety. For .... life outside. Is that what drives Richard? Could it be? Kyraine picked one of the sheets of paper, glanced at the results printed all over it, and then tore it slowly in two. Then in four. And eight. "There's no scientific way to get them, is there? Unless I get a good, perfect sample to analyse. And whoever it was, it's not taking any chances." She tossed the torn pieces of paper into the recycling slot. Richard and myself are becoming dinosaurs... old generation, who will be extinct soon. How many of us are there still? And how many of us want to live outside again? I surely would like to see the sun again before I die... but not enough to risk the entire population. But I have to think also... all the possibilities of the mutations out there. All the material that my research would have. Something that others could pick after I go... and continue, and use to help repopulate the planet. I would risk it myself, I would go out for the chance. I could even ask the Overseer to open the Door just for myself and a small group of volunteers... but I know he won't do it. Not unless it is in utmost secrecy. I wouldn't risk the whole Vault for my samples. Would Richard do it, for a chance to write again? ~~~~~~~ OOC: A vote for Richard Braggins/Ozymandias

Tanny closed the book, in an almost dreamlike state. The story had had her completely absorbed, and she still felt some strange vibration running through her. Something warmed against her breast, and with a start she touched Gryphon's Jewel. A clean flow of energy coursed through her, soothing the effects of the alien vibration, and she blinked some times. "That was... weird..." she murmured, closing the book carefully. Then, reaching for a steadying thread of earth energy, she rested a hand on the faded red of the cover. Opening herself to its energy, she wasn't surprised to recognize something dark, at the same time threatening and alluring. "Well, he's a Nether mage after all... I would expect something like this from a book he has had for a long time... though..." Frowning, she let her mind sink deeper into the dark energy, throwing however a life-line to earth and water to keep her safe. Dark... and twisted... but not in an evil way... not quite... a touch of Nether, yes... but... something buried so deep in there... Pulling back, Tanny let go of the book and for some time just let her own kind of elemental energies flow through her, cleansing some faintly bitter aftertaste from her contact with whatever energy permeated the Book. The fresh mid-morning air and the warmth helped to settle Tanny's mood after the surprising contact with the Book, and she took a moment to extend her senses through earth and feel it bubbling with life. Then, she changed into her wolf form and started in the path leading deeper into the forest. Nearly an hour later, the path opened into a small graveyard. Tanny stopped for a while, attuning herself to the slightly different nature of the energies that ran there. And, as she had hoped, she had a glimpse of Venefyxatu. The Nether mage sat on one of the stone benches, a few specks of sunlight coming through the trees. He was leaning back against the small crypt with his staff across his lap, staring intently at an object hidden in his hand. Chained to a rock, my soul being tortured with an intensity that could never be applied to a mere body. There are no bodies down here, only souls, the souls of Archmagi being tortured. Their cries echo through the caverns, mixing and mingling with each other into one great cacaphony of pain and suffering. The Demons that were once under my command now take their revenge, gloating over my bound soul, taunting me at every opportunity. Crying out to the Gods doesn't help here - the only two who can hear you wouldn't answer if you were in their highest favour. You're alone down here - everything that happens is yours to bear, yours and yours alone. And all of us know that we deserve it. With a shock, the necromancer looked up from the polished piece of quartz he was holding. After taking a few moments to compose himself, he saw a familiar wolf coming towards him. Pulling the corners of his mouth up in a smile and putting the quartz back in its pouch he got up and saw the wolf shimmer into her human form. "Tanuchan, it is good to see you. What brings you here?" "Good morning, Venefyxatu. I was looking for you." She smiled, and sitting besides him she told him about her experience with the Book. "It was... pretty weird. I was so absorbed in that story, I could almost feel I was there, seeing it happen. Smelling the dust and the horses... " She shuddered, gripped again by the feeling of some twisted energy flowing through her. "That's odd." Venefyxatu frowned. "I didn't notice anything like that. I did get the impression that I know that place, though ... do you think that could be related?" Venefyxatu's voice grew more pensive as he spoke. "Although ... as far as I know, Terra has never known a place like this. Maybe this is a book with a very strong memory?" "Whatever it was, it even triggered Gryph's Jewel... and it shouldn't. I think there's some raw energy there that in a way resonates with mine." She waved some doubts away, tucking her own questions about that triggering of he focus jewel in a corner of her mind. "Then... well... I just decided to find out more. I don't know if you know but... I can pick traces of energy that living things leave on objects they've handled. The longer they've been in contact, the stronger it is... " "So every time someone touches something, they leave something from themselves on that object? Fascinating ... what exactly did you feel on the book?" "I picked something ... weird from the book. Not evil, really, just very alien and twisted. I think there's a touch of Nether, and that would have come from you... but there's something hiding deeper." "Well yes ... the book is pretty old, so it must have more of these patterns on it than just mine. "I wonder... would you agree to open yourself to me?" "What do you mean?" Venefyxatu looked at her, quite surprised. "I can... pick the pattern of life forces. And they're unique enough so that I can identify them even in objects." As the Nether mage nodded in understanding, Tanny continued with some hesitation. "We had some little contact, so I know there's something of you in that Book. But I feel there's more, buried deep. If you could open yourself to me so that I could pick your pattern..." "... you think you might find out something else?" Tanny nodded. "I won't invade your privacy. I'd never do it. You can open just as much as you're willing to... I just need you to lower some barriers." Venefyxatu wasn't used to lowering the barriers around his mind. Working with Nether energies required a very strong will, and to prevent being affected too much by the darkness that the energies gave off he had constructed powerful barriers. However, one by one, he opened them up for Tanny - constantly aware of the Nether energies that would flood his mind if he opened them up too much, constantly aware of how vulnerable he was. He didn't doubt her intentions, not really, or that he could shut everything out in the blink of an eye should it prove necessary, but he knew that even that could be too slow. Tanny picked easily some pattern in the energy she could feel being channeled, and so followed the caution with which Venefyxatu worked. Frowning, she realized that the Nether energies swirling around her would probably be felt much more strongly by someone who dealt directly with them. At the same time, her instinct told her that there was danger in what he was doing. Delicately, so as to not distract the mage, Tanny focused on the Jewel and touched the pure energy that came from the unsullied earth under the graveyard. Skillfully, she wrapped it around herself and threaded it carefully into the strands of nether energy that she could feel around Venefyxatu, slowing their swirling. As he felt the unfamiliar energies being woven around them, Venefyxatu didn't really give an outward sign other than smiling that ghost of a smile of his again. A few moments later, with a nod, he indicated that he was ready. Tanny touched his arm lightly, letting the familiar earth energy wrap her and ease the contact with the peculiar energy of the graveyard. In a flash, she saw and absorbed Venefyxatu's characteristic pattern. It felt like... a black silk web, intricately woven, alive somehow yet virtually impossible to bend. Later that afternoon, having invited Venefyxatu over to her cottage, Tanny picked the Book again. Both mage and shapechanger examined it carefully, both somewhat warded - even for Venefyxatu, the book now seemed to be different, irradiating some kind of wild energy. Carefully Tanny let go of her wards, just throwing her life line into earth. Again opening herself to the book, she now could feel clearly Venefyxatu's pattern entwined into the dark energy. As she had hinted, it seemed to go much deeper than what she would have expected for just a few years of handling. Following the intrincated, layered energy flow, she kept tracing Venefyxatu's pattern - deeper and deeper, changing at every layer, but always retaining that core that identified its being. Blinking, Tanny let go of the threads - reluctantly, still amazed and curious. "Venefyxatu... this goes back... years and years. Centuries back. I can't even start to fathom how plain old the touch that comes from your pattern is."

Kyraine finished her coffee, nodding agreement to Richard. Both used to share some small talk, having known the world as it was before the War and not having much more people their age to share those memories with. "Billy Jo?" "They're saying it could be you, too. You know, all that talk of your experimentation with mutant DNA, and how it could help people to survive out there." She snorted, and actually laughed. "That's ridiculous. Although I think opening the Door isn't that bad an idea, I certainly wouldn't kill young people for that! Their genetic pool cannot be lost, Richard!" "Well, that's what you say, Kyraine. Personally, I understand their fear... scientists started the War - I mean, they gave the means to that war. Another one could be plotting to redeem the whole class." "I think you've been dawdling too much, dear friend... you should use all those ideas in a book. I'm sure it would be a good one, and I could help you out the scientific parts..." Billy Jo? I still suspect Cook... Billy Jo? ~~~~~~~ OOC: Well... at least a chance to survive... Changing vote to Quincunx/Billy Jo

That morning Kyraine looked again at all her files. The news of two more deaths had set her in an urgent mood. More deaths... and young ones. The people we will need once we can go out again. That's so plain wrong! Whoever the killer is, we should catch them before they ruin the genetic pool of this population! Hours later, she shook her head with a sight. There was nothing wrong with her conclusions of the previous day, and not even a new analysis showed something new. The samples Security had brought her this time were incredibly messed up, and she had found traces of at least 5 different types of DNA and marker proteins. Kyraine sat down on her couch, and forced herself to relax and let her mind wander. Years ago she had learned that it was the best thing to trigger her subconscious, and more than once she had got clues for her research in this way. They weren't more than children. Where do children go for mischief? The kitchen... the Cook. But Mary was her best helper... DJ was always after Mary. DJ was always in the kitchen, I have seen him around the corridors near it several times. Surely Cook wouldn't appreciate that. Cook... sending meals I haven't asked. I should have asked those grandchildren of mine if they had asked for that meal... I keep forgetting it! Cook. But nowhere in my material I found Cook's genetic signature. Maybe I should work on them again... it's always easier to analyse material when there's something definite to compare it with. Now, where did I file those old results? I'm sure once, long ago, Cook donated some cells... ~~~~~~~ OOC: a vote for Cook/Katzaniel... for now

The person above me has an age-machine (or is it a time-machine?) and turns into a Sweet girl who loves playing with magic crayons, who is also the currently keeper of Wyvern's "ACCEPTED" stamp. (Edit: Thought about editing this post out. Decided to keep it because of Sweet)

Kyraine frowned, tapping the results sheet with a finger while thinking. Not possible... with all the personality quirks, it's not possible. Murder? Too extreme... but I'm not a psych. She sighed and looked at a picture on her table. Darien... you were such a wonderful psychologist. And husband. I miss you, and your sharp mind. After some more time looking and comparing results, Kyraine filed the results and locked the file cabinet. Many have donated cells in the past, and the results are still there. There is some discrepancy, and I won't accuse anyone based on those results. Not when the charge is murder. And there are many ways his cells might have come in contact with the body... Security has all the right to handle a body, and that must be what has happened. With a dry snort Kyraine went back to her scheduled experiments, keeping silent about what she had tracked. However, in a corner of her mind, the image of the results sheet refused to disappear completely. ~~~~~~ OOC: Accusing John Doe/Patrick Durham. (Nothing personal, just convenient IC... );

She would hear all sorts of gossip, though, woldn't she? From all her helpers... even if the Cook is stuck in the kitchens, her helpers aren't. And people would go there from time to time, either to complain of something or to try to make her cook something they like... I guess that's perfectly possible. I'm having trouble making Kyraine accuse IC also; I'll try to post soon. Need to go for a little while right now.

In Nimue's profile, there's a clickable link to "email". You can use it to send an email to her, though you won't see her address unless she answers you. Hope it helps... Her profile is here. You can find it easily by using the link to "Member" on the top of each page, and looking for her name. Good luck!

Hey, dear mod... has Patrick left the game? Your table says "gone NPC"... does it mean he has no role at all?

Kyraine looked at the samples and shook her head, sighing. "Not again... I remember how, just a couple of years after the closing of the Door, we had a rebellion... people made insane, claustrophobic... thankfully it never came to killing, not after the first of them was thrown into the supervision program. He came back so tame that they got scared and quieted." "I've read about it in the History classes, professor Morgan. But it happened at the very beginning. We are adapted by now, and the Overseer would know the right time to open the Door. People should trust his judgement." The scientist nodded, some thoughts refusing to be buried in the recesses of her mind. The Overseer would know, yeah... but is he ready to accept the responsibility? Would he delay the Opening in spite of scientific proof it's already safe? How did all that radiation out there affect the genome, I wonder... what kinds of mutations would exist now? Maybe even some useful ones? Forcing her mind back to the present situation, Kyraine again nodded at the young woman in Security uniform. "I'll try to help, Ms. Sterling. Though I can't be sure what I'll find." "We tried to get samples of the tissues and blood around the wound... and scraped under fingernails, also... " These kids have been watching too much fake science movies...Aloud, Kyraine grunted. "I can run the genetic tests, typify the DNA, and get the small rare blood elements that might identify a person. But you do realize that it won't work unless we have a suspect, right? Or run tests on all the population of the Vault. Shawn Sterling blushed, suddenly uncomfortable under the piercing look of that first-generation lady. Then, murmuring thanks and apologies, she left in a hurry. When the door closed, Kyraine took some time preparing the samples, separating the cells from damaged tissue and using her skill to nudge the DNA out of the nuclei. Such delicate work... delicate strands... just a cut and a sealing here, or there, and we'd have a completely different set of characteristics... new proteins, new enzimes... maybe something that can help us withstanding any residual radiation. I so wish I had more material to work with... I should talk to the Overseer, and ask him again permission for campaigning people to donate cells for research.

"Here," states Stephen, stopping right at the foot of a small hill. "Yes," agrees Tanny, surveying the surrounding area. Her instinct, perfectly integrated to nature, recognizes every detail and confirms what Stephen's senses and link to earth had told him. "Now what?" Stephen leads them up, more or less near the center of the hilltop. The smells and a subtle pattern of earth energy add to the various small hints telling him that this is where they'd arrived. The only difference being that now there is no portal, no way back. He sighs in a quite upset way. "With 1.15 clans of orcs on our tail, we'll have to find a way back very quickly... ideas?" "You don't have a tail, dear... nor do I, not currently at least." Tanny's answer is absent-minded, and she's startled by her friend's chuckling. "We still have to find a way back, though, tail or no tail." "And it will surely be a tale worth telling our grandchildren..." Stephen blinks, then groans at the unintended pun before going on. "A Portal that strong should have left some signature on earth." "Yes, earth does have a good memory for anything that draws its energy," says Stephen, rubbing his staff and frowning slightly. "Do you think you could activate the Portal from that?" "I might... never tried it before, Stephen. But we don't have much choice, do we?" Tanny lets her awareness sink into the earth, centering herself and following a random thread of energy. "If we find the traces, we might sparkle it back to life. I saw something like it being done once when I was still little, although I didn't realize what was going on back then." For a moment, Stephen was hidden away in a tree again, spying on Graflock and his apprentice. The older mage was chanting and almost dancing when suddenly the earth started trembling. Stephen could hardly hold on to the branch he was sitting on, and it was only thanks to the fact that Graflock stopped his earthquake that he didn't fall out of the tree. Then the mage started talking to his apprentice, and the boy just seemed to ... stand there, for the longest time. When finally the earthquake started again, it was much wilder than that of Graflock, uprooting trees and cracking the earth in some places. Because of good reflexes he'd gotten away unharmed when his tree fell, but Stephen hadn't gone near a practising mage again after that. "I'll tell you about it later, though." Stephen plants his staff firmly into the ground before him. Holding it with both hands, he starts concentrating, sending his senses into the earth and extending them in a circle around him, feeling for a hint of magic, a glimpse of the earth remembering the portal. Mmm... there's something here... wait, no, this isn't good! Meanwhile, Tanny follows her wayward thread of energy, feeling a very light twisting in its pattern as she goes along. However, her link is jarred by a mental nudge - more like a push - from a very urgent Stephen. ::Orcs, and they're really close, too! Dammit, they must've taken a very short break for the night!:: Mentally blinking from the abrupt interruption, she quickly widens her perception. ::There's a subterranean stream... and... tiny faults crawling around here...:: She whispers in thought, working her possibilities with precision and speed. ::The forest's angry, it should be easy to nudge the growth...:: :: Good, that should slow them down a little and buy us more time. :: While Stephen quickly retracts his senses he can hear the Orcs coming closer through the forest. When he speaks, the urgency is obvious in his voice. “They're too close, they'll be coming out of the forest any ...” He stops as he hears the first Orcs leaving the forest, and both he and Tanny instinctively turn to face them. From their vantage point on the hilltop they can see and sense the first Orcs breaking out of the forest. The snapping of twigs is lost in the orderly drum of feet as for once, the Orcs march in rows. With two Shamans to command them, and a common enemy to unite them, the Orcs finally show some discipline. The Captains can be heard bellowing their orders, and sometimes a pleased grunt can be heard at those orders being carried out right away. "We have some time before they reach us..." whispers Tanny, immediately centering and grounding in a proper way for heavy work. Earth's raw energy starts to fill her as she opens completely to it, and she extends her mental fingers to also touch the water running through the earth. Stephen mutters, "Let's hope it'll be enough. I'll keep trying to find that portal back." Once again extending his senses into the earth, Stephen concentrates on a smaller area around himself now, not wanting to interfere with Tanny's weaving of energy. The Orcs at the front of the wave grin, certain of an easy slaughter. Seeing their prey so near and apparently not paying attention to them, the warriors let go their war cry. It comes out dissonant, mixing imprecations from two tribes and swearing from two shamans as they see their horde starting to leave the marching order as blood-lust replaces whipped commands. The trampling of the heavy feet at first confuses itself with a soft rumbling, but soon enough the rumbling gets louder. Nudged, sometimes pushed, in key points, the faults deep under the Orc's feet slide and buckle, sending seismic waves up and around. The quake is still small, lacking the energy to do more than being felt. But that is enough to slower the Orcs and send some of the younger ones into panic. "Earth shakes! No good! Run!" As some mild shouting and spear-poking come into play to keep some appearance of order and make the scared ones go on, the first Orcs to get near the foot of the hill scream. Squishy sounds become louder as other Orcs follow, unable to stop in time and being pushed into the muddy mire that appeared so suddenly. "Quicksand!" The shout carries to the back of the horde, and some orcs start to spread to the sides of the path to circle it. "It grows around us!" As soon as heavy-clad feet step on the naked earth, patches of quicksand appear to swallow them slowly - patches that also seem to move in a random way, leaving Orcs buried hip- or chest-deep in packed earth. The rumble keeps growing slowly, and the continuous quake added to the moving quicksand start to halt even the greedier of the Orcs. A sudden flash makes them look upward, and the sky seems to erupt in flames. Tanny's mind keeps a tight control on the threads being woven, energy flowing into her sluggishly as she demands more and more from herself. She pushes back the hint of pain, and from somewhere a fleeting thought comes. Fire in the sky? How... it's illusion! She immediately stows away the disturbing thought to be analysed later, gasping softly as she starts to fight hostile waves of an energy she isn't trained to deal with - magic. "It's simple illusion, you fools!" Kahr shouts, her strident and powerful voice being heard above the screams and clanking of the warriors. "Forget the fire, it can't touch us!" "Our magic is more powerful!" Bralak's bellow overlaps Kahr's. "No more unnatural quicksand!" Solid earth and patches of quicksand seem to fight, the occasional Orc being victim to a suddenly reluctand muddy patch reappering where magic solid ground had conquered. The Orcs press on once again, the shamans chanting and calling to them their magic. On the hilltop, Stephen finally thinks he's found it. There is just a hint, a vague memory of energy being used. He's about to tell Tanny when he notices her weaving becoming more frantic every moment. Concentrating so hard his fingers go white on his staff from holding it too strongly, Stephen tries holding on to that one point while at the same time lending some of his energy to Tanny. It's too much... ouch, that burns! Tanny recoils, trying to get the balance that would allow her to let magic flow around her with minimum harm. However, the drain is too heavily felt, and the thread of water energy escapes her control with a backlash that blanks her mind for a second. Not stopping to wonder where the extra energy came from but feeling the flow of energy come steady and clear once more, Tanny pushes it resolutely against the waves of magic now hitting her through her link to earth. There's a bright flash and a deafening roar in her mind and she reels, but again she feels the strong wall behind her giving support. With sweat beads on his forehead, Stephen keeps concentrating on both Tanny and that one spot in the energy threads of the earth. He's at a loss for what to do though, needing all of his energy and concentration just to keep this stalemate. Suddenly his concentration is interrupted, however, as an Orc arrow strikes his leg. He can feel both Tanny's weavings and the Portal spot slipping away from him. The last thing he notices before he loses his link, though, is that the energies clash into each other, mingling with what he can only assume to be the magic of the Shamans. Then several sounds reach his ears at the same time. In front of him, he can hear the Orcs starting to trample closer, their snorts and cries of victory sounding absolutely repulsive at such a close distance. To the left of him, barely audible, the sound of someone falling to the groud. And behind him, a sound that almost drowns out all the others, a great tearing as though someone's tearing a huge sheet of paper. Dazed, Tanny feels a strong arm around her waist, hoisting her up. Up? When did I fall? While wondering, Stephen's voice comes from somewhere near her ear, almost shouting for her to run. "Run?" Blinking, she stumbles, then changes to the steadier four-legged form and follows Stephen towards a wavery blur taking shape to their left. The unmistakable tingling that comes from passing through a Portal comes... A human and a wolf came through the Portal so fast that they stumbled to the ground, smoke rising from their hair and fur. Both of them yelling to close it, close it quickly and preferably forever, one in mindspech, the other in Common. Scarlot, who happened to be near, raised an eyebrow but seeing a number of orcs too great to count heading for the portal immediately understood...

No, not too late Venefyxatu has opened the thread for initial RPing, I think he'll assign the roles on Monday - so, you both better come and play!!

"Books?" Tanny perks her ears at the magic words, and bounds to the Cabaret where she reads the sign carefully. "Hmm... seems soooo fun!" Grinning, she places her paw onto the sign, leaving her characteristic paw-print. Then, just to be sure she'll be properly identified, she changes into her human form and signs ner name beside the pawprint.

A thin shaft of light disturbs the shadows that have reigned for so long. Following that, there's a noise - like rocks being shifted, and sometimes broken with some tool. The air changes subtly, bringing something new to the damp cave. The creature feels something for the first time - surprise.

Kyraine shakes her head in disgust as the children run past her, and with a brisk pace intercepts Cook when she's about to yeall at some clumsy helper. "Cook, if you please..." Cook glares at that old woman, sighing inwardly but trying hard to put a less threatening expression on her face. "Yes, Mrs. Morgan?" "I would appreciate if you either kept your helpers about you at all times, or taught them not to wander where they aren't called." She cuts the reply with a sharp gesture, demanding continuous attention to her. "This morning one of yours just wandered into my lab with a tray of food. This person left the tray over a counter without noticing the tissue cultures being grown next to it. I've my material contaminated by pepper, tomato sauce, and something else I couldn't identify." Ignoring Cook's perfectly understandable indignation at her words, Kyraine goes on. "I haven't asked for lunch in the lab today, and I'll be clear once again, Cook: my grandchildren aren't to order food for me to be delivered at the lab. Never. I myself will call you and request it when needed. Have you understood that?" The clanking and scraping at the background finally seems to have reached the professor's ears, and she grimaces. "And for the lord's sake, can't you work in silence? If you made less noise in here, you wouldn't have the children coming all the time!"