cryptomancer

from the shadows of the room, Cryptomancer approached the small box that sat amist the dissapating teleport. the glow of the word caught his gaze as it shone... LOGOS... "divine word" Smiling the Cryptomancer bent to retrieve the gift, gently opening its lid and setting the echoes of his mind to search its contents. his eyes widened as his mind touched the gift, and released its power into his awareness... smilling deeply, the Cryptomancer wondered at the true extent of skill that his friend had. gently closing the box his hands engulged it in shadow, the gift held close in the folds of his robes, and the world of his shadow. The Cryptomancer draws a rune upon the small silver scroll holder. The glow of scrying makes the metal glow deep blue as it seeks the passages of travel to the sender of the gift. Upon a small slip of parchment Cryptomancer begins to write, " epinephrine, my friend, deeply I thank you for such a true gift. Words cannot repay the true value of what you have given me, for the word you placed upon the box is blest in my world, it gives fully of itself to those that seek the truth, it fills life abundantly for those that seek it, follow it and hold it dear. Your gift in itself gives to me a passageway to seek more fully of its gifts, to truely find its meaning. Thank you My friend, truely, and deeply, thank you." On a second slip of parchment, the Cryptomancer writes. "Purity to the thoughts of all, Upon who's ears your speech should fall, Teach true the paths you reveal Through each day and each bell's peel, Safety in the blest persuit Seeking the passage of wisdom's route. Be well my friend, may your skills be forever blest, May the true Divine Word guide you and bless you, We shall meet again soon." Sealling the twin scrolls in to the holder, and retracing the rune to alter it, the Cryptomancer drifts it into the small vortex of teleportation that opens in front of him. The embrace of the ether takes it as the smiling Crytomancer moves back to the shadowed corners of his room.

the lion king... hehehehehh get tricked into taking a ring travel to the wood between worlds jump into pools free a witch meet a lion witness creation or read the book.

*looks at game stats* oh... before i even got a chance to post... cool... ok... i know i was slow in starting.... sorry... I will try better next time...

beautifully expressed sentiment. life is a wonderfully complex game.

a raven sits in the rafters watching the chaos unfold, eventually he glides down and lands on the head of the feminine feline and looks at her, from the wonderful upside down and quizzical vantage point of a bird looking at you while pearched on your head. Mynx looks at the bird suspiciously as it begins to grin, and as the grin forms the bird shifts to the full shadow form of the ego. finally Mynx finds herself in the hug of the Cryptomancer's human form. *hugs* Missed you. welcome back.

The gentle whisper of the alarm Echoes through the world of my sleep. That soft urging to awake and move into the morning. Soft patter of water seeping through my skin, Rinsing the soap and stubble from my face and head. The drift of the weary, greeting each in passing, Upon the bus, express to a vivid world of glass, The etchings of neon patterned in the walls Of all that hold me in. Coffee, scribbled words of the nights dreams, The only place I write, filling with the travelers To the day of duty, the service of all who pay. Merging into the controlled chaos of busyness The setting of the bait, the placement of the traps of trade. Sparkle and shine in the glass, enticement of the prey Sharks cunning, kitten’s smile, is how I earn my pay. In the kiss of the morning air I greet the door, Its creaking chains raise it to the roof, The glass of the open front yawns to the street. Extending the hand of welcome, Hoping for the start of a full day.

Music made my heartbeat free The dance of drums playing Upon my soul, embracing a Melody of my life. Words sung, speak again of you. Verse upon verse draws your Face in my vision, Colouring my world with your eyes. To my eyes the music is real. To my ears your beauty is a song. I have danced in love, Ever drawing closer, Ever seeing you. …… Star upon a crystal flame Sharded fragments of perfect pain Pressure of pure delight, Wall through which shines beauty’s light. …… I looked into the flames. The echoes of spent energy Burning circles into my vision. Eyes drawn ever to the Dance of consuming power. Lingering upon her life’s thread, Unable to exist without it, Unable to move away. ……

Kiss the dark rims of my eyes As sleep takes my breath. Draining my soul to aimless dreams Echoing my life’s plight. Ever a seer of dreams Lingering in the thoughts of tomorrow, Drawn to touch the shifting veil Surrounding that which we are yet to see. Dancing upon the clouds, footfalls Echoing upon the fading light. I walk alone again, Into the empty sky. Starlight takes my heartbeat as the flicker, Fading flames found in my last breath. ……

Drenched in the early morning light of the year’s shortest day, feathers ruffled against the cold air of dawn, a small form sits perched on the highest point of the Pen Keep. The eddies of the warming air growing around him, The Raven sat watching, seeing all with the open eye of his mind, undistracted by the tainted visions of the physical body. Time drifts in its twists and turns, but for now it has provided the quiet solitude of meditation. His first seeing of the new world around him, a first chance to assess the experience and inspirations, as his mind paces the shadows around the fringe of his thoughts. “Why does this place feel so much like home?” The cynical muttering of doubt interjected, “Fortress filled with those that teach and study” “shh” “Everything you left behind” “shh” “Admit it, you should never have left.” The Raven ruffled the feathers a little more, the cool air warming as it became trapped beside the warmth of his body, his foot drawing into the embrace of down escaping the biting cold of his perch. “I am no longer the being I once was.” “You are the same” “Yet should have died a lifetime ago” “You are the same” “Unchanged since the year I took up my gift” “Curse” “Gift, I made me fulfill who I was to become” “A nameless wanderer?” “I shall find my place” “Where?” “For now, Here” The Raven drew back the shades of his eyes, the glow of the morning air filling his open mind with the colours of dream, the trance drifting from him, his thoughts again resting, at peace with themselves. “For now this place is home, home is where you make it, home is where you are welcomed, home is where you find all you seek.” “How long shall you stay?” “Until it is time?”

Kindest regards to the gathered fold, I would like to request that my humble presence may grace the same halls as such esteemed company as this. Should it not be too much trouble that is. I should introduce myself, I am Brother Benidicte, a scholar of liturgy and sacrements. Should any need my humble assistance I would be honoured by your requests. Thank you.

Ok... it is a good thing I can cook. *grins* I should stick to writting these instead. [edit: spelling]

I had a similar discussion about the art of swordplay.. rapier vs katana. In a similar way the fighting styles are such that they can defend against each other so it is not a training or skill issue.. most pirates are fighters and very well experenced ones if they survive the pracitce of their trade.. in a fight I would normally pic the unorthodox fighter over the trained one.. simply due to the unpridictibility of the fighter. Pirate all the way..

The Raven lands on the head of the young feline, looks down at her in the upside down and very quizzical way of birds everywhere, and grins.... "So???? I saw this movie... where this blonde goes to law school.... and ... " The Raven flies off very fast with a few feathers fluttering down from the edge of Mynx's sythe. Congrats Mynx.... Well Done.

*remembers long hours writting riddles* Cryptomancer bows to the Sphinx, "truely you are the greatest of this art"

Cryptomancer grins, his super potent drink of perpetual intoxication is now hangover reduced, (no more piniata bag)

I am in if I can get the time to be online.

The Raven wonders if the 'all powerful and all knowing ring of summoning and binding' will burn if he bids.

2.30am Christmas day 2004, the Raven sits contemplating the day ahead, and the beauty of a carved Grimorie that rests in his lap. Merry Xmas to all, and to all a wonderful new year, full of joy and peace. To each, and every one of you, may the true blessings of the season fill your lives abundantly.

To the wonder that is the Pen, Lost and alone in a world of weariness and twisting paths, you blest me with a home. I walked alone for so long seeking a place to rest, to learn, to grow. In the welcoming halls of the Keep, I found all I seek. In another lifetime, another world, I met a beauty, I was her that first introduced me to your company. Her friendship has given me the courage to write for you. Mynx, my truest friend, thank you. Salinye, your warm welcome, and the part you played in getting us writing, is most likely what kept me here. Thanks for the greeting, the guidance, the welcome. Thank you. To all of the elders, It is your combined strength that binds us all so closely in this place. Thank you for giving so freely of your time and skill. Having my talent acknowledged by you is one of the greatest honours I have had bestowed on my writing. I hope I can live up to the example you set.

*bows low to all* My humble thanks for the honour. *calmly hugs all the other promotees, before turning avian and flying circuits of the room*

Seasons here differ from my homeland, We have hot sun and dry winds for the better part of the year, and never snow or rain in the months that you celebrate now. But in the middle of our year the snows fall on the mountains around the grasslands of my home, the cool winds bring comfort, and soon rains fall again. From when I was young, before the life I live took my hand and placed it on the smooth edge of the runewand, I lived for the celebrations of the snow. As a child it was fun to play in the frozen world of white upon the sumits of the edge of the plains, I seldom watched the older and wizer people as they stood looking out over the world below. As I grew older I looked more and more to the group of adults that went to the mountains with us each year. After the beginning of my training in meditation I looked myself for the first time. From the heights of the escarpment standing upon the edge of the sheer cliffs of the 'dragons teeth' I stood and saw my world for the first time. Wreathed in the gold of autumn, spead before me like a blanket of woven life. Now always in the winter of the land I live in, I seek the heights of the land, I find that one true place of vantage. I look to the life spread before my heart as in the trance of meditation I sit, And I remember why it is that I live, that I am who I choose to be, why I seek the love and beauty of life, I walk away from the edge of the world, clouds at my feet, refreshed once more by the true love of life, and its abundant beauty.

Now itching as well as sneezing, allergies in full swing, the Raven led conga line of bird and kittens tumbled through the folds of the bag, hindered only by the sticking of treacle. *singing in a sneeze choked voice* Come on little Kitten let us do the conga You Know she wont stay mad too much longer Shoulda never made that drink so much stronger Come on little kitten let us do the conga now.

Someplace in the folds of an unbreakable piniata the Raven and a flurry of furry kitten minions bigin their own line, stumbling and crawlin gthrough tthe folds of treacle covered fabric. Dut-dut*sneeze*-dut*sneezesneeze*-dut. *sneeze*Dut. *sneeze*KICK.*sneezesneezesneeze*

Deep within the folds of the bag, covered in treacle and fur from the kittens, the Raven sits, sneezes violently shake his avian form as the kittens crawl over him. His beak is swollen from the allergies combined with the need to peck the kittens in order to disuade them from falling victim to the normal attitudes of cats to birds. Bracing for the impact of yet another swing from the punters outside, the Raven cradles a small book in his wings. Small and black, runes inscribe the front cover, that speak of something so deeply powerful, who's spell is as unbreakable as the bag he is confined in. He finished the notes in this small book so long ago, now it is but a memory, made tangible in confines of his prison. Looking at the page in the back cover of the book, he finds the small wand of silver, and slowly, carefully, between the swinging strikes of those that attempt to break the bag, inscribes two words in the soft glow of black ink. The book dissolves to memory once more, leaving the bird to his punishment. *sneeze*

Wave of Furry motion Rippled upon the grass, Such surpentine suggestion Furry flurry of fleeting motion. Upon the limb of trees, with glee My mental motivation unhinged by thee.