Missing...

[Knight]

"Stick- if lesser things include weapons manufacture, then certainly! Well, that, and extra-planar travel, but that's rather beside the point. I'm still paying for my wrecked ship, and I cannot find what's left of the crew... Anyhow, if you will wait here for a moment- I need to go fetch some things- caves tend to have stuff that need a good beating, and my armor and my warhammer are back in my room.."

 

Some several minutes later, Knight comes running back in, wearing a set of battered old armor, and toting a warhammer that looks entirely too large for a normal man to carry. He chuckles gleefully, and looks around, ready to go, even though he has no clue about where the heck he's going.

 

"Well folks, NOW I'm ready. Let's go!"

[Riven]

Riven steps forward, "Every group should take an extra ring in case they find this Annel." Riven leans on his warhammers as if it were a staff, "And I need to stay with the group that will be in more public areas since Wyvie has yet to give me access to the rest of the keep."

 

He glances around the the people he doesn't know, "My name is Riven, and I am a mageknight. I practice protective magics and healing spells."

 

Riven points to his wings, "Plus, I am a half demon, which means I fly, see in the dark, and have supernatural stregth."

[Black9]

Just now noticing that she forgot to introduce herself...Anna gave a bow.

 

Anna-"And I am Anna, Daughter of Joseph, Champion of the Light. I have heard rumors that I contain magical skills...but if I do...it's greek to me. When my magic does come out...though...it holy based."

Edited November 29, 2004 by Black9

[Salinye]

Salinye looked around as people departed in groups of two and three. "Well, I suppose I'll start my search with her tree in the courtyard, followed by a detailed inspection of The Confessional, afterall, I probably know those rooms best. If I find nothing there, I'll work down into the Underground caverns connected to it. Safety in numbers I hear, so anyone is welcome to join me....Except you, ranger." She smirked to Gyrfalcon and turned to leave the building to start her search at Annael's favorite tree assuming one or two people would join her.

 

Link to the search party searching Annael's tree, The Confessional and attatched caverns (which does not include all caverns, just the ones in the underground under The Confessional) is here.

Edited November 29, 2004 by Salinye

[Riven]

Riven bows towards Anna, "My dear lass, after this little adventure, if you would like, I will help you focus your magic. Holy magic happens to be my speciality."

 

Riven addresses the rest of the group, "I will join whoever is searching the caves, I think my night vision would be useful in such a place."

 

Riven bows his head and waits for someone to ask him to join them.

[The Big Pointy One]

"My my, what a group we're going to have. Oh well, better safe than sorry. Knight, Tanny, Riven... let's go. I'll lead you to the caves..."

 

---->

[Black9]

Anna thanked Riven for the offer and responded.

 

Anna-"Perhaps I'll take you up on that. I'd be honored to be your pupal."

[Peredhil]

When Peredhil stepped through a Portal into his chambers, he was struck motionless by a thought.

 

It was worth pursuing immediately. He'd rejoin the others later.

[Wyvern]

As the search party splits up into seperate groups in order to search through the various caverns, doors, and trees of the Pen, an old rickety wagon continues its trek along a beaten pathway. Wyvern stares longingly at the passing farm lands from within the shakey wooden confines of the cart, silently cursing to himself every time the vehicle passes over a tiny bump or stops for a stray cow.

 

"Yeeeee-up" croons the old geezer driving the cart, laughing in wheezes as he continues to drive the mules along. "Ain't nothin quite like farmin' them ol' cattle, lemme tell ya sonny boy. Nice to have ya along on this lil trip, you and yer ring."

 

"Yeah" mutters Wyvern, frowning as he notices a large building with towers sitting at a distance from the fields. "Ssssay, is that the Pen I see over there in the distance?"

 

"Yup, I reckon" says the old man, turning his head towards the lizard for a moment in order to speak to him directly. "Lotsa the farmers go there fer provisions, as well as to sell fresh food to Celes Crusador's Caf-"

 

The old man is interrupted as the mules move from one mile per three hours to one point one miles per three hours.

 

"Whoooaaaa" exclaims the old man, lethargically lifting the reins of the mules. "Whoo-oooo-ooo-ooaaaa."

 

Wyvern raises a finger to speak, only to gape in horrified awe as the mules hit a series of tiny rocks, which causes them to sway and drop over dead. The death of the mules makes the cart to jolt slightly, which causes the old man to pass out in his seat. Wyvern slaps a claw on his head and curses, lifting himself from his seat and accidentally brushing his horns against the ceiling of cart, causing it to collapse in the process. Sighing to himself, the lizard hops out of the wagon just as its walls and wheels break down, and hisses:

 

"Well.. at least it looks like the Pen is walking distance from here."

[Peredhil]

Else where

 

Peredhil struggled toward the Pen, but the minions of Real Life clutched him with thousands of small pinchers.

If he could just get time to focus on any single one, he'd squish it.

 

They seemed to come in waves, in categories almost. Invisible even to his sight, they could be identified by their effects.

 

Most numerous buzzing about him were the Cares. Feelings of failure whenever he let himself be too tired to help with homework, or cook a meal, or work that extra hour at work. No matter how much he did do to meet his Responsibilities, the Cares would buzz into his ears a message of failure and lack.

 

Then there were the Guilts. Mostly Should based, they condemned viciously. Should've done this. Shouldn't have done that. If I'd only, if I hadn't. He was pretty good at resisting those, but when worn down, they had to be each rejected with an act of will or an affirmation.

 

The Failures were predominant of late. Not quite responsibilities, these were worth-based. I've failed my friends, I've failed my guilds, I'd be a failure if I ask for help when they're going through so much.

 

In the past, the Prides had been a problem, but they were pernicious and clever. He no longer feared asking for help making him look weak, and he had no issues with needing everyone's approval, only those who mattered. For years, letting his enemies or selfish friends set his own value had been a doormat people pleasing trap, but he'd escaped with help.

But the Prides never gave up. There was Pride of failure - refusing to try because of possible failure - and Pride of humility, never accepting compliments for it meant he could fall or set up expectations.

 

Real Life had many arrows to its bow, and all of them seemed to revolve around fear, guilt, worry, and doubt. They isolated.

 

With a lunge he activated the Silver Ring.

 

~~~~

 

Peredhil's form sparkled like an old Star Trek episode, phasing in and out, visiting each group but unable to stabilize, until he was sucked by into Real Life with the approach of a New Priority Deadline.

 

A Guilt fastened unnoticed like a leech on the back of his neck, and began injecting its own special poison. He was failing Annael, she was already taken away, he should try harder, over and over again....

 

Thousands of ants, each one small, each one sapping only a tiny bit of energy. Each one when brought out and confronted, melting in reason like snow in a furnace.

 

But so many...

[Annael]

The Unknown

 

Annael blinked and gasped for air. It froze her throat, making it close, and her teeth ache. Even the little butterfly on her ear was shivering, it's little feet like ice on her flesh.

 

"When did it go so cold in here?"

 

Her voice stopped, as if hitting a wall except no echo came back to her. It didn't carry, as if it was nothing. Maybe that was just it, she was IN nothingness. Shifting a little on the hard ground, all feeling to her body gone, she heard a sharp sound, that of a thousand icicles cracking. Closing her eyes and making her body as still as possible, she didn't dare move. Breathing a little prayer, the little butterfly slowly crawled it's way over her ear, down her neck and to her shoulder. The little butterfly froze and whispered if it could return to the saftey of her ear. Annael quickly answered that she had to know. It's tiny feet barely moving, the butterfly glided over to a feather and fluttered its wings ever so softly. It leapt into the air to hover over Annael's head as the feather shattered into a thousand crystalized pieces. As the pieces of the one feather fell onto other feathers, they too shattered and broke. Hanging her head, Annael listened as they all slowly fell away. The only witness to something that was only ever whispered about was the little butterfly trying to hide itself in a curl of the bowed head from sadness.