Eyes Without Faces

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Degorram sat low in the chair she had placed in front of her window, twiddling her thumbs absently as she pierced the night with a bright red glare. She had let her hair grow out a little in the back so that the still uneven locks fell to her shoulders and the bangs hung across her eyes. Through the strands that painted black lines across her vision she watched the moon rise.

 

She shifted a little and lifted her hands, clasping them and resting her thumbs against her mouth. The moonlight breached the tower that held her room and shafts of the white-blue light filtered through her window, sending glares of light traveling up her leather clothing. The only sound that echoed off her walls was a deadly tapping of her foot.

 

If anyone had looked in, they wouldn't have been able to guess what she was looking at with such venom in her eyes. Not that venom was an unnatural thing to be occupying her features at this time of night. But that, too, was a mystery that very few had been privileged to know.

 

There was a knock at the door. Degorram promptly ignored it. After a moment of silence the door creaked open and another clad in leather entered the room.

 

Kikuyu walked up to stand by Degorram's side, staring into the night with her. For a long time neither spoke.

 

"You can't keep spending your evenings like this," Kikuyu said softly.

 

Degorram didn't answer. The tapping of her foot continued to serve as the only outlet to her subdued rage.

 

"You're not going to get revenge by killing the moon."

 

Degorram's knuckles cracked as she clenched her hands tighter. The blood-red almond eyes sparked. A translucent black smoke peeled off her skin and waved around her like flames.

 

"Stop," Kikuyu demanded sharply.

 

Suddenly, but still silent, Degorram launched from the chair and walked over to the window, trailing the barely existent smoke. She shoved her hands in her pockets and leaned against the window sill, pressing her forehead to the cold glass. "A necromancer," she finally said, her voice trembling with rage. "Why didn't we fight back against a measly necromancer?"

 

"You felt his power," Kikuyu said, the sharpness in her voice replaced with calm. "You already know the answer to that."

 

Degorram did not answer. The smoke continued to shroud her.

 

"Come on," Kikuyu said. "Let's go for a walk." She turned halfway to the door, still watching her sister.

 

Degorram did not turn to look back. Pressing harder into the glass she slid through it. "I prefer to fly," she said as she dropped into the night.

 

****

 

"She thinks she could have beaten him," Kikuyu said, stirring her tea absently and staring at the table that separated her and Wyvern. "Or at least she wishes she could have beaten him. Losing is humiliating as it is, but surrender is unforgivable in her eyes. We've never abandoned a fight without trying before."

 

Wyvern nodded, a frown upon his scaly brow. "I can undersssstand that. How long do you think ssshe'll hold onto thisss?"

 

Kikuyu sighed put her tea down. "Perhaps forever. Dego's never been the kind to vocalize her feelings. She bottles them up. It's dangerous as it is for her emotional health, but since she's a shifter...."

 

"Even more ssssso," Wyvern said, completing the thought with a small shudder. "Do you want me to talk to her?" He tapped his claws on the table, the sound reminding Kikuyu of rain on a metal roof.

 

She shook her head. "Talking won't do any good. She needs encouragement of another kind. She needs an outlet." Her eyes hardened and her mouth curled downward. "What she honestly needs is to be broken. But we'll have to be there to catch her when that happens."

 

"B-broken?" Wyvern asked. "Ssssounds a little....harssssh, dontcha think?"

 

"Not at all. It's had to be done before. When the pressure is too much, you have to make an opening for the energy to drain."

 

Wyvern swished his tail and nervously scratched a horn. "And how isssss thisss sssort of thing done? You ssssay sssshe's been unapproachable reccccently."

 

Kikuyu shrugged. "It's different every time. Usually the emotions she bottles are all despair, sadness, and those are easy to break free." She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, sighing. "But this is an entirely different case. She's never bottled up her rage. She's usually very good at expelling that sort of energy," she said with a chuckle.

 

"Anger issss tricky to be ssssure," Wyvern said. "Could it be that perhapssss you've read her wrong, though?"

 

Kikuyu frowned. "How do you mean?"

 

"Issss there ssssomething elsssse that might be bothering her? I mean, sssshe doessssn't usssssually glare at the night doessss sssshe?"

 

Kikuyu delved into her memory. For a moment Wyvern just watched the wheels turn within her brain.

 

Then her eyes lit up as she remembered. She straightened suddenly, mouth slightly open. An image of her sister glaring through a frosted window at a drizzly night locked itself behind her eyes.

 

"What?" Wyvern asked.

 

"She's sensed him," Kikuyu breathed. "We must find her immediately."

 

****

 

Kikuyu stared at the pouring rain across the courtyard, feeling the weight of depression weigh on her shoulders. Tears bit at her eyes, pushing forward, hot and unwelcome. With gritted teach she reached up and dashed them away, but they overflowed and streamed down her cheeks.

 

"Whatssss thisss about?" Wyvern shifted uncomfortably on his feet, staring at the silently weeping girl. He had never seen Kikuyu cry...never even seen anything close to tears in her eyes. It was unnerving and painful...

 

"I don't know," Kikuyu said breathlessly, her voice sharp between painful sobs of breath. "Where's Dego? Where..."

 

Her eyes widened suddenly and more tears leaked onto her cheeks. "Dego," she whispered.

 

"Oy!" Wyvern jumped as the girl split from his side, sprinting through the rain at full speed. The almost dragon tore after her, too shocked to grumble, too confused to gather his thoughts in place and wonder if perhaps the necromancer in question had any geld. His usual humor was stunned, no, bludgeoned into silence. A threat to the Pen? Impossible!

 

Kikuyu could not longer distinguish her tears through the rain drenching her, but she still felt them bubbling in her eyes, hot and thick. Someone was tearing at her heart, someone was pulling on her very soul, her other half...

 

"Dego!" Kikuyu shrieked. "Where are you?"

 

There was no answer. For a fraction of a second she feared there never would be. But then a tiny pulse throbbed in her chest, renewing the pain, renewing the fear, but wholesome and alive. Kikuyu wailed, turning her path randomly, bowling through a small crowd of wet pennites under a tree. They yelled in confusion, their voices calling to her in concern. Wyvern did not pause to answer questions, his eyes fixed on the sprinting ninja ahead of him, almost impossible to see through the rain now. "Sssorry!" he shouted over his shoulder.

 

The dragon cursed, putting on a sprint of extra geld-snatching speed, and tackled Kikuyu, pulling her to the ground. "Ssstop!" he gasped. "Thisss iss madnessss! What'sss going on?"

 

Kikuyu struggled wildly against the Elder's grip, slipping in the mud. "Let go!" she shrieked, trying to pry his grip from her wrists. "Stupid, stupid let go now!"

 

"What'sss up? What'ss going on? Tell me!!"

 

Kikuyu wrenched herself from the dragon's grasp and took three faltering steps. She tripped and fell face first in the mud, her back heaving with muffled sobs. Swaying, she stumbled to her feet., her face smeared with grime, the black dirt covering her hands. She stared at them wildly, as if she saw blood there instead of mud. "Don't," she hiccuped. "Please, don't...Dego...wait...

 

"Don't leave me!!"

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Kikuyu stared blankly out of the window of the Library, her eyes misted as she stared at other places, perhaps another world. Wyvern and some other Elders and pennites sat around her, watching her concernedly. Other than Wyvern, who had not left her side since the rain, Kikuyu had not looked at the others. She wasn't quite sure who they were; each face looked blurred and unfamiliar.

 

"Is she going to be alright?"

 

"Letssss sssee if we can get her to talk..."

 

"Do we have any, like, tea?"

 

"Chocolate?! Chocolate makes everything better..."

 

*squeak squeak squeak*

 

"What's this about a necromancer? Where's Degorram?"

 

Kikuyu gave a small start as if someone had touched her. She looked around at the circle of pennites, all gone still at her movement. Her glassy eyes slid from face to face, hardly registering at all, until they touched upon a miniature tree potted in the corner. The ninja got to her feet and touched a leaf, her mouth moving silently before she swallowed. "It was just like this..." she whispered. "Huge, and filled with rooms. There were wind chimes in every branch...and the foxes could get to my bed at night and talk." A bitter smile twisted across her lips and she turned away. "But it's gone now. And he'll come here and do the same-- destroy everything and everyone."

 

"Surely it's not as bad as it's looking," a voice from the back said reassuringly. "It's just the weather, and when we find Degorram..."

 

Kikuyu turned slowly, the black teardrops on her cheeks standing out against her white skin. For a moment the fickle green in her eyes stood out sharply and the tattooed lines under her lids zipped from purple to black and back again. "First," she whispered, "he'll take our eyes, and make them into his pets. Then he'll either infest the place with his undead or he'll blow it up, or turn it over to Death. We either leave or we fight. If that isn't bad, then I don't know what is. And as for Dego...." pain lanced across Kikuyu's brow. "As for Dego, I don't know where she is." She rubbed her chest. "I can't feel her."

 

"Ssso we're split," Wyvern sighed. "Earlier you ssssaid ssshe'd ssssensssed him...doesss that mean sssshe'sss gone after him?"

 

Kikuyu hugged herself and turned away. "I don't know," she said flatly.

 

Someone at the back stood up, their eyes narrowed. "Find out," they said coldly. "Your attitude isn't getting us anywhere, especially in our time of need. This isn't the Kikuyu I know. The Kikuyu I know isn't a defeatest quitter who hides away from trouble."

 

Kikuyu turned, her cheeks flushed with anger, her eyes glittering nastily, to confront the speaker, but she stopped short, her mouth slightly open. Respect, anger, and something else caused her tattoos to flicker brilliantly, and she bowed her head. "What should we do?" she begged the admonisher. "What should I do?"

[Quincunx]

[Conversation partially excerpted from a lively IRC session.]

 

Forty minutes prior:

 

". . .and if you could keep your less sensitive conversations a bit quieter, or--"

 

"Alright alright, we're going outside, _sheesh_."

 

The kaffeeklatsch packed liquor bottles, cocoa thermos, and one rain-dispelling stone into a picnic basket, and then each filed out of the main assembly room toting with dignity a comfy chair and an air of faint injustice.

 

Fifteen minutes prior:

 

"--covering while revealing is _not_ covering!" Appy clunked down her glass on a Women Against Speedo's coaster. Most of the kaffeeklatsch nodded sagely, but Tzimfemme choked on a shot of 80% cocoa and fanned life back into herself with a Women Promoting Speedos paper napkin. Words failed her, and she reached to the left with the unoccupied hand in order to draw a portal and an illustration--drawing everyone's attention instead to Kikuyu, lost, and Wyvern dancing around both with distress for the other Pennite and sheer discomfort at all the water pelting down.

 

[to be continued]

[troubled sleep]

((OOC: Sorry it's so long...it's just 'cause it's my intro post. I get long winded. I actually trimmed about a page off, believe it or not, and I can probably cut more if you want me to.))

 

Jolinar ran down a flight of stairs, up a corridor, then down another, shaking sleep out of her eyes. She must have looked a sight--running down the hall, blinking in the light, trying not to trip over her own hem. Normally she liked her dresses--long, cream colored things that reached to the floor, sleeves to the wrist, with a soft, dark tunic-style shirt over it. It reminded her of the dress-and-smock she'd worn during her twelve years at the Dreamer's Chapterhouse; she felt at home in its yards and yards of fabric. However, it was not the greatest outfit for running, and it hadn't helped that, until a few minutes ago, she had been deeply asleep. She hadn't been looking for anything, she'd actually been looking forward to a refreshing, dreamless sleep. And then suddenly, there they were: visions pouring into her mind faster than she could process them: death. life. tea. shape-shifter. ninjas. a despondent winter. the end. the Past. And then, without pausing for breath, she was hurtled into the Now--the Keep. running towards darkness. a name: Degorram, another: Kikuyu. rain. anger. sadness. a gathering, one she needed to be at. Then onwards: possibilities. questions. paradoxes. the Future. And the rain poured down in the background. She had forced herself awake, then, gasping for breath. Barely thinking, she had jumped off the couch she'd dozed off on and run out the door, barely remembering to grab a pair of shoes on her way out.

 

It hadn't taken her long to get lost. She felt the pressure of her vision--she needed to be at that gathering. It played again and again in her head: the Past, the Now, the Future--it made her feel light headed and dizzy. She stumbled. Steadying herself against a wall, she paused to get her bearings. She was lost. She needed to be at a gathering of people. But how to find it? She had only been at the Pen Keep a few weeks and she didn't know the rooms well. Where were they? The vision replayed itself: a mash of images and feelings. A gathering, she thoughtI need a gathering. Full of people. Anxious people…probably broadcasting thoughts and emotions without even thinking about it. She groaned. She didn't like where her own thoughts were taking her, but it had to be done.

 

Propping herself against the wall, she closed her eyes. She had always hated her eyes. They were a child's eyes, large and warm and loving and entirely unable to hide her true emotions. They were also blue, not the green of a proper Dreamer, nor the dark-almost-black-purple of a true telepath. It was a color not often seen in Halen, one that spoke of the marriage of Dreaming and telepathy. Really, she could feel just emotion--thoughts usually took direct contact. Such moments frightened her, though. Now, letting herself fall into the world of thoughts, she let her skirts slip from her grasp as she reached out, the way she did in dreams, trying to extend her abilities as far as possible. She strained and strained, but couldn't do it. Her brow wrinkled in frustration, but she forced it smooth again. What did her sister used to tell her? "Take a deep breath, Jo, and just leap…"

 

All at once she found them. A large collection of vague feelings, all of them nervous. That had to be it. They were two floors below her and to the left. Both pleased and frightened at her abilities--and with her earlier visions still burning in her memory--Jolinar gathered up her skirts again and sprinted down the hall.

 

Jolinar entered just in time to hear Kikuyu describe what blackness awaited them. It matched her vision perfectly. Murmuring apologies and excuse me's, Jolinar pushed her way to the front. A brief spasm of fear flicked through her, slowing her progress a little. This had potential to be very embarrassing. It was always strange to talk to people you'd Dreamed about, especially ones you don't really know. She tried desperately to think of something to open with.

 

When she reached the principle speakers it was unexpectedly her years of etiquette training that rushed in. Without thinking, she dropped a small, informal curtsy and said, simultaneously, in her most polite tones: "I'm sorry, you don’t know me, miss, but I saw it all. Just like you said. And the other girl, the shifter," she paused for a moment, closed her eyes up tight, recalling the dream, making motions in front of her with her hands as though she was sliding images into place, "your sister," her large eyes softened, "she's running…but we could still catch up. Otherwise…well…otherwise it'll be just like last time. We'll all be gone to darkness. Eyes without faces, faces without eyes," she paused then, and noticed that she was drawing a lot of bizarre looks. Instinctively, her hand flew to her rather messy hair--what had been a tight braid down her back was now a mass of brown tangles. Well, they'd all seen it, there was nothing she could do about it now…then it dawned on her that it was her words, not her looks that brought the confused stares.

 

"I'm a Dreamer," she said, as if that should explain everything. Judging by the general reaction, it didn't. She tucked some flyaway hair behind her ear, then knocked her knuckles against the palm of her other hand, searching for the right words. "I See things when I sleep, the future, the past…I saw all of this," she waved a hand to include the room and its occupants "I think…I think we're in the middle of a time paradox, the making of a possible-Future into a Now, at a crossroads," she paused, fretted, knocked her knuckles again, "in one possible-Future, we stay here until that darkness comes and swallows us up. In another possible-Future, we find Degorram and we do something, I'm not saying that it'll stop it, I couldn't See that far ahead, there's too many conditions. But there's a chance we can change things. I did See her, Degorram. We can catch up to her. And if we get close enough--" she paused, fretted again. Kikuyu was--entirely unintentionally, Jolinar was certain--broadcasting her emotions so loudly that they were distracting. It pulled at her heart, to see how angry and pained this stranger was. Turning to Kikuyu, her eyes large and comforting, liquid blue, she said: "Look, I don’t know you, and I know this is weird coming from me, but you've got to trust me," she said, in a kindly voice, resisting the urge to reach out and grab this stranger's hand or shoulder. "You can be strong, I've Seen it. Just push through the doubt. If we get close enough, you'll be able to feel her again, yes? How close do you have to be?"

Edited May 29, 2008 by troubled sleep

[Ozymandias]

A Shadow Creature is a simple thing; simple also to call into being and to command, once one learns how. They have little thought of their own- in the realms of the dark, they are the rough equivalent of insects in that regard, but have such voluminous memories and keen senses as to be able to grasp and retain any concept explained to them in completion.

 

This, coupled with their innate shadowstuff forms and lack of need for rest, in another world, another time had made them favorite footsoldiers of strange, powerful, and bloodthirsty wizards.

 

Their origins and nature were lost now, to all but a few, on this new world they frequently found themselves (itself? None were sure...), but one man still spoke to them every day, still had work for them, so according to the old pacts, they did that work, and, insofar as they could form such opinions, didn't mind it. It was normally much quieter, very uneventful times than they (it?) had been accustomed to for unknown millennia. This new work that included watching for events like these that were unfolding between Wyvern, Kikuyu, Jolinar, and the weather.

 

The Shadow Creature that had been watching the proceedings with customary silent attention now peeled away from the unliving shadows on the wall and left to make its report.

[Degorram]

Degorram crouched on an old tree limb, soaked through, her hair hanging in long, wet strings and sending even more cold water trickling down her cheeks and

the back of her neck. The sun had set long ago and the darkness that had fallen in the forest was complete: with her own eyes, she could see the leaf dangling in front of her nose and nothing else. She closed her eyes and twitched. When she opened them again, her pupils were large and round. The whole forest seemed afire to her. Including the leaf dangling in front of her nose.

 

Irately she batted it away and knocked a whole new shower of wet upon her head. The rain had been mostly stopped by the heavy tree cover and now just dripped or trickled in steady streams off of the leaves above. Usually she hated being soaked, but her mind had left behind the thought. She wasn't aware that she was shivering with the cold. She wasn't aware that she hadn't eaten in two days. She sat on the tree branch and stared into the forest, silent.

 

There! Without a sound she had disappeared from the branch and was leaping from tree to tree, eyes fixed on a single moving shadow. When the shadow stopped, she stopped. When it sped up she matched its speed.

 

Degorram noticed from the corner of her eye a difference in the forest. She glanced up and saw that the shadow was heading for a clearing. Just another part of the forest, or was this the Necromancer's meeting place? That's what she was after: how close had the monster gotten to her home without her sensing it? Had his power grown since then? Had his forces grown since then? She turned her eyes back to the shadow and practically missed the branch she was supposed to land on. It was gone.

 

The bark was slippery and she had to throw herself from tree to tree just to stay above ground. Finally she was able to scramble onto a single branch and flattened herself on it. The clearing was right in front of her; there were no other trees to guard her from prying eyes, and she dared not move now. The only way she wouldn't be caught was if the Necromancer was either distracted or very tired.

 

She hoped he was distracted.

 

There was silence in the forest. Once again she was enveloped by the sound of rain and her own breathing, except now her breath was heavy with following the shadow...and also fear. She knew no technique to watch her back.

 

Suddenly out of the darkness two large arms wrapped around her torso and ripped her bodily from the limb she was clinging to. Degorram cried out in shock and tried to twist around to slash at whatever it was holding her in the air, but its grip was firm and she could do nothing but struggle. She attempted to shift away, but her head blasted with pain and she was forced back into the shape she was. She screamed as her head pounded and the creature's grip grew tighter and tighter.

 

Just before she could feel her ribs about to crack the creature threw her away from itself into the clearing. Degorram hit the ground with a smack and slid through the mud, but couldn't force herself to her feet. She pushed herself onto her knees and gingerly gripped her torso, wincing as she was able to breathe again.

 

"This is how I like things," a cold, sinister voice said from the darkness of the forest. Degorram whirled around, pulling one of her swords from its sheath and leveling it at the voice. A tall man was walking slowly towards her, his hands clasped calmly in front of him, a quirky smile on his face. "You....on your knees. Helpless and weak. Oh yes, I do think I'm going to enjoy the turnout of this encounter much more."

 

"Go back to Hell!" Degorram spat, trying not to pass out from the exploding pain in her head. Her arm was shaking: she barely had the strength to keep the blade pointing at the approaching Necromancer's belly.

 

The Necromancer laughed softly. "You see, I wasn't intending to go back for a little while yet," he said with a smile. The smile was quickly replaced by a terrifying scowl and he reached down, wrenching the sword from her faltering grasp. Degorram was practically pulled over with the force of his strength, but she caught herself on one arm. The Necromancer leaned down and gripped her chin in his icy hand. "But you, dear changeling, you seem to want very badly to take me with you whenever we meet. And I'm growing tired of your games."

 

Degorram jerked her face away from his, snarling.

 

"Oh, still the feisty one are we?" he laughed, straightening again. "You are not worth my time at the moment. Too much energy. I prefer to play with my souls after they've been properly..." he paused for the right word and relished it as it passed across his tongue, "...subdued." He chuckled and snapped his fingers. All around the clearing a horde of shadows appeared, constantly moving, their empty, orb eyes piercing the darkness, fixed on Degorram. "Bring her to me once you're finished," the Necromancer addressed them, eyes still fixed on Degorram. "And please, do take your time." He turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder. "I'm in no hurry."

 

Degorram watched as the shadows drew closer, her brain speeding through options of what she was to do. She only had the one sword left, and it wouldn't do any good against the shadows. She couldn't shift, and she didn't have the energy to try running away. But she did know that the Necromancer would wait to rip her soul from her body until Kikuyu could watch, which, by a twisted stroke of evil fortune, bought her time.

 

You're a fool Degorram, she thought as the creature's hands drew closer. ----- this is going to hurt.

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Kikuyu stared at the bedraggled girl before her, her emotions roiling. Something like anger and jealousy rose to the top first-- she had seen Degorram when her own twin could not?-- but she ground it down with her teeth. Don't find an outlet for you frustration that doesn't deserve it, she muttered inwardly.

 

Kikuyu took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her wet and now equally wild hair. "A Dreamer you say?"

 

"Yes," Jolinar said a little nervously. The expression on the ninja's face was...unreadable at best. "How close do you have to be?"

 

Kikuyu turned away and looked out the window again, only this time, she saw the outside world instead of staring through it. She reached up to touch the glass, a twisted smile slipping to her lips. "We've always been together," she whispered. "When we were little, we depended on each other; not just for comfort or understanding, but for our very lives. It hasn't always been easy." Kikuyu turned, the twisted smile still on her lips. "She's always rescued me."

 

The ninja's eyes slid over the people surrounding her again and her grin grew. "This time I suppose it's my turn to rescue her." Her eyes snapped over to Jolinar. "How close?" she reiterated. "That is the interesting question isn't it? Good thing for us then..." She drew one of her throwing stars and twirled it on a finger. "Just close enough. Do you know what direction they're heading?"

 

Jolinar half closed her eyes, remembering. The sun had been...hitting the tree-line in a golden and red glow when the shifter girl had disappeared among the trees. "West. Into the forest."

 

Kikuyu pocketed her star. "Alright. I'm going after her--" Kikuyu dropped to the ground with a cry, as if struck, clutching her stomach.

 

The crowd erupted around her. Hands were yanking her to her feet, stretching her out on a couch. The ninja yelled again and clutched her arm. She pushed the hands gripping her away and sat up, her eyes wild with rage. "They're hurting her," she gasped.

 

"Who issss?"

 

A clattering of feet brought the group to dead silence, interrupted only by broken cries from Kikuyu. "They're coming!"

 

One of the Elders jumped forward. "Who?"

 

"It's a cloud! Rising from the west. It's full of lights, like eyes."

 

Wyvern's scales lost their color and every gaze shifted to Kikuyu. The ninja's eyes were closed and she was panting. "War is here," she muttered. With a groan she sat up. "Looks like Degorram's not the only one who needs rescuing."

 

Wyvern twitched, his face developing a very uncharacteristic scowl. "Call a meeting of the Elderssss," he hissed. "Thisss isss the point where it ssstartsss to go fassst!"

[Sir Walnut]

Sir Walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat XXIII slowly turned the knob and pushed open the surprisingly heavy wooden door. It might have been the exhaustion kicking in, or maybe the dehydration or hunger, but Walnut had never been so happy to see a bed. A real bed with sheets, two lumpy and quite comfortable looking pillows, even a beautiful quilt. Over come with happiness all he could do was throw down his luggage, take off his custom tailored purple silk suit, fold it and collapse on to the bed.

 

"Finally! After four months of searching I have finally found my room. I have found MY bed. I am so overjoyed right now I can't stop talking to myself!"

 

While trying to enjoy this wonderful moment he didn't even notice the sound of sobbing and running feet from down the hall.

 

Several hours later...

 

Walnut awoke taking a deep breath. The smell he caught snapped him to full consciousness. It was a strangely unnatural odor, akin to pulsating, writhing, hatred.

 

"Oh, well, that is quite interesting. A new smell in a new place. I really must investigate.", Walnut muttered to himself.

 

Springing from bed, Walnut neatly put on his suit. Placing his swords at his side, he grabbed his top hat and the bag with "If found please return to Walnut Clamhat of the Mighty Pen" stitched into the side. Finally prepared he set out, first to find the entrance and then to investigate!

[DeanTheAdequate]

The rider kept going full tilt through the forest. Rain pelted his oil cloak and hat, followed by hail and about every other leaf shaken from the trees of the forest. Clutching a stuffed satchel close to his body, the rider continued in the face of tree branch after tree branch trying thier damndest to sweep him aside. Each gallop was a silent prayer that a shoe wouldn't be struck off by an errant root or some other calamity.

 

The careful observer would have only seen the rider on his dark horse beating through the path to the castle... But an even more careful observer would notice the light coming from the satchel itself. But a careful listener, ah... that's where the story gets interesting.

 

"What do you hope to accomplish, Wizard?" came a voice from the satchel "You can't hope to use these things you've gathered to fight it. It is far too powerful for mere trinkets to fell it. Even your skills can't defeat it alone. Only by letting me into your soul for a while..."

 

"Can it tomb breath." mutters the rider "Just be glad for the chance to see the world beyond your tomb."

 

"A fine world you've shown me too. The immediate area outside my tomb and then the inside of this bag. All in all I'd change the decor in here."

 

A clearing, just the thing to make up some time. If the map was still correct then the road to the main gate could be found soon. Just then the horse reared, toppling the rider. The startled horse then took off to the outskirts of the clearing, leaving the rider to brush the muck off. The rider then looked about to see the problem.

 

The problem looked back with hungry, sunken faces. Decay etched into every part of their being, from clothing to flesh. Only those red eyes signaled any life in the. They groaned and shifted towards the oncomer reaching out for anything resembling warmth. At this rate, the horse was a goner.

 

"So Wizard, got a miracle stashed somewhere about you? Because using magic will just draw a bead to where you are, and your quest will be at an unfortunate and messy end."

 

"Yeah yeah." said the rider as he reached deep into the satchel "Sometimes you just have to do things the old fashioned way."

 

The rider produced a red bat with the word "One Thousand Blades" written on the side. The grotesque hordes came forward, and were cut down in mass. Each simple swing carved away at the rotting flesh, carving a path back to the horse. With luck the beast had kept the foul shambling mockeries of life at bay with it's hooves. There was no time to calm the beast, so the rider made a warding sign. Blue light emanated from a sigul traced by the rider's fingers. The horse calmed and readied itself for the rest of the ride. With a leap the rider spurred the horse to the clearing's exit. Back on the trail, the rider took a moment to put the bat back.

 

"Was it wise to use that sigul?" said the voice from the satchel "The enemy is in these very woods, probably after one of your kinsmen. I cn feel his presence, even from here."

 

"No other choice" said the rider, pulling back his makeshift bandana from his mouth "These things might be our key to unlocking the castles' mysteries. And it might just be the only way to defeat this menace. Besides, it's about time I fed my cat."

 

Dean smirked and trotted the horse on the main road, galloping as fast as he could to the main gates. Back home after all this time.

[Hjolnai]

At the same time, an orc walks along a road to the south, heading northward, leading a massive warhorse. He marches with a determined stride, but he does take the time to look to both sides when he hears rotting flesh moving. On seeing a large undead army approaching, he pulls out a huge glowing sword, and shouts, "Aasharam! For justice!". He charges into the ranks of the undead, slicing the rotten flesh as easily as if he was scything wheat. The shambling undead are no match for any warrior, let alone a tireless juggernaut such as this orc. However, their numbers are so vast that several minutes pass before the path is clear. The orc mutters, "This is a task fit for mages with fireballs, not for a Knight; a single spell would rid this place of many instantly. I cannot dispose of this horde, for I sense a more dire evil somewhere ahead..." The orc mounts his horse, and rides onward at a gallop. He is only hours from ascending the rise into view of the keep of the Pen...

[Wyvern]

Wyvern tears at the scales on his head as he paces back and forth, biting on the tips of his claws and letting his tail jerk back and forth in frustrated motions. On the one hand, the overgrown lizard didn't want to let his biggest fan down and feared for Degorram's health, and on the other it seemed like defending the Pen Keep from the latest necromancer creep was rapidly becoming a top priority. The overgrown lizard bites his lip and twists his tail stinger in the carpet for a moment, then snaps a claw and sets out searching the Conservatory counters for quills.

 

"Kikuyu, yer not going nowhere without at leassst two pennites backin you up. Essspecially not if Dego's pain is affecting you in this way." Wyvern snatches a quill from a small table, then pulls out a blank sheet of paper from his Devil's Advocate folder and begins scribbling on it. "And on sssecond thought, never mind the Elder council buisnesss... like I said it'sss time to go fast and we all know how those meetingsss can be mercilesssly slow. Jolinar!"

 

The polite and timid woman looks up with a nervous expression as Wyvern glances in her direction with wild beady eyes.

 

"Wyvern, nice to meetcha. Now I know it ain't easssy to remember onesss dreams after wakin up, but if you ssseem to recall anything having to do with necromatic minions, you'll let us know what sorts o' sons o' ditches we're dealin with eh???"

 

Wyvern grabs an envelope from a counter with such haste that he leaves claw markings on the intricate wooden design. The overgrown lizard stuffs the letter into the envelope and scribbles something on its front, then storms over to a window of the Conservatory and shoves it open with a claw.

 

"HO, REPLY RAVEN!"

 

A distant cawing of "Reply" is heard through the rumbling thunder for a few moments before Falcon's trusty minion lands on the window sill to coax Wyvern on. The disheveled raven caws "Reply" a few more times as its wet feathers dribble rain water left and right. Wyvern scrunches up his snout and carefully holds the envelope in front of the raven's beak.

 

"Deliver thisss to the person it'sss addressed to, and don't ceassse yer cawing till he replies."

 

Wyvern tucks the envelope into the raven's claws, carefully avoiding getting any water on himself. He shoos the raven off of the window sill and watches it fly into the cloudy sky, biting his lip and hoping that it reaches its destination safely.

 

"Alright, now where are Venefyxatu, Vlad, Minta, Tamaranis, the Death of Rats?! We've gotta fight fire with Almost Dragonic Brand Infernos™ as I like to say." Wyvern turns away from the window and fumes, forgetting to shut it. "We're gonna need some holy types as well. Here, somebody get Knight on my portable crystal ball..."

 

"Wyvern." Kikuyu's eyes widen as she spots the creature flying towards the open window. "Look out!"

 

Wyvern grunts and turns, then cries out and falls back as a small bat-like creature soars into the Conservatory, squeaking and flapping its wings while dribbling blood over its round body. Many pennites scream and whack at the bat-thing with whatever they've got, causing it to bounce along the walls and over the ground.

 

"C-calm down everyone, jusssst calm down!" Wyvern raises his claws and shouts. "It'sss just the Almost Dragonic Brand Vampiric Batting Ball™, nothin to be afraid of! *grumble* I was wondering where that thing flew off to..."

 

Wyvern raises a claw to his chin as he watches the winged ball bounce.

 

"Y'know... if someone has a slingshot and a catcher's net, we might have a potent weapon on our handsss."

[Quincunx]

She needs an outlet." Her eyes hardened and her mouth curled downward. "What she honestly needs is to be broken. . .

 

"No." The word brought Tzimfemme to her feet, and hung there until Kikuyu Black Paws was done with her breathless tale. Then it was noticed.

 

"What do you mean 'no'?!" shouted the ninja, wheeling about and nearly knocking Jolinar off her feet in ways both physical and psychic. "There's no 'no' about it!--"

 

Tzimfemme took a few seconds to shift her brain from decoding Jolinar's speech (or applying it to Rosemary's in her mind, and a few things that madwoman had said were much more clear now) and understand why Kikuyu was upset. "Certainly I'll rescue her, but breaking her--no. She hasn't done anything _nearly_ vile enough to warrant being broken. How to make this more clear? If you suggest breaking her, I will hurt you to stop you from succeeding. Twin or not." The urgency of finding Degorram and the urgency of protecting her glanced off of one another like ship and iceberg. Tzimfemme dug bare toes into the soil, which gave way more than sodden ground should have. Kikuyu shifted weight to better roll away from a blow--but then Jolinar, fortunately for all, laid a hand on Kikuyu's shoulder and broke that self-destructive circle.

 

Kikuyu stared at the bedraggled girl before her, her emotions roiling. Something like anger and jealousy rose to the top first-- she had seen Degorram when her own twin could not?-- but she ground it down with her teeth. Don't find an outlet for you frustration that doesn't deserve it, she muttered inwardly. . .

 

An echo of inward muttering from the naked mage: Better explain that later. Apologize. Maybe. Better yet, defer to Wyvern--heh! Wyvern! in charge! world's arseupwards--now to defuse that, and explain it to Degorram later. Find her get her smash her oppressor. Even if Kikuyu if inadvertently. No. Wheels flowers white icebergs sunken within wheels.

 

Wyvern twitched, his face developing a very uncharacteristic scowl. "Call a meeting of the Elderssss," he hissed. "Thisss isss the point where it ssstartsss to go fassst!". . .

 

He grabbed Tzimfemme's shoulder and shook her out of it, but then returned to pacing. The naked mage saw a scrap of blackness peel away from the surroundings and slither away, and sprinted to pursue. Shadow was almost as quick as light, however, outpacing her. She gave up on running and attempted to scan the area for undead energies, a weak spell but still something clumsy to manipulate. No result. Well, then it was probably not a necromancer's shadow. "Note to self: Ask Minta about availability of clockwork gadget to detect undead. Splice into fiber optic mana network," muttered Tzimfemme as she returned to the group.

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Kikuyu closed her eyes and heaved a deep breath, calming herself. "Perhaps I did not make myself clear," the ninja whispered, opening her eyes again to look at Tzimfemme. "Whose twin is this again? And believe me, there are things about Dego that none of you know-- things that would make your skin crawl."

 

Kikuyu felt the nervous shifting around her but did not take her eyes from the one in front of her. "When I said 'break', I meant 'break'. But perhaps not in the way you mean. Dego has a...darker side, like all shifters. As you might remember with the stealth sprites, it wasn't always fun around her. And that was her sweet side. When she needs extra help, as I'm thinking she might now, she'll go to her other side. But the problem is after she's done with the necromancer, considering we don't all die...she won't revert back. Her sweet side is not powerful enough to take control. She, or her darker side, will need to be broken to let the nice Dego we all know and love take control again."

 

Kikuyu ran a hand through her hair and trembled. "They've stopped now," she whispered. "Either she's beaten them off of she's unconscious." The ninja looked over at Wyvern and glanced at her trembling hand, slightly slicked with blood where she had dug her nails into her arm. "I hope that Reply Raven gets back quickly."

[Degorram]

At first, Degorram didn't know where she was. She opened her eyes slowly and saw the ground passing beneath her. The sound of tramping feet, of a horse's jingling tack, the squelch of mud beneath the feet of countless troops, all in turn visited her ears. Everything swam and faded in a sea sick tumult. A flash of pain hit her whole body and she retched, spitting up bile.

 

They had her firmly by each arm. Strong, dark hands had wrapped around her biseps and shoulders and were bodily dragging her through the forest, letting her feet bump along the ground behind. She could feel her boots wearing thinner with every rock she hit. Just in front of them a horse, if it could be called a horse, trotted restlessly, the rotted flesh tearing with every step to show tendon, muscle and bone beneath. Seated in the saddle, cool and quiet, was the man.

 

He heard her vomit and turned slightly, looking at her from the corner of his eye. His lips twitched and without a word he turned back to the front. Degorram refused to watch him as he sat there, smug and triumphant, his first trophy already won.

 

I am not finished, she thought grimly. He can't keep me from shifting forever.

 

Seconds became minutes, minutes became hours, and all passed her by with nauseating laziness. She began to count the footsteps of the army behind her. After a while she grew bored and began naming the rocks and ferns that passed before her eyes. Her neck ached from hanging limp, her shoulders from supporting her entire weight. Without caring what was to come next, she begged for an end to the ceaseless march, if only it would allow her to rest.

 

They came to a small clearing. Boulders, a man and a half tall, towered around it, placed to rest by some unknown people in some unknown time. Runes had been carved into their skins, long rubbed into obscurity by wind and rain. The trees also were impressive: their branches sprouted high above the ground, leaving the thick trunks bare except for the occasional rope-braided charm that had been tied there.

 

The caravan stopped as the Necromancer gazed at the area, a small smile on his face. "This will do nicely," he said to himself. "Come."

 

One of the creatures holding Degorram let her go and lifelessly walked to stand at the man's side. The other who held her wrapped one of his arms around her torso. Even if she had had the strength to move, the grip of the dead would have prevented her from twitching.

 

The Necromancer turned to the creature at his side. Some unspoken command was passed, and the creature turned and marched out of the clearing. The army filed past and followed, filling the empty forest with the noise of its many feet. Degorram cracked her eyes open and watched, feeling sick again as the creatures walked...and walked...and walked....and no end of the army seemed to exist. Finally the last of them had gone; only a dozen stayed with their master.

 

With a sigh the Necromancer dismounted and led the hellish steed over to a tree where, without being tied, it stayed, wild eyes burning with the fires of a very hot place. He turned back and clapped his hands, a business like air hovering around him. "Let's get to work, shall we?" he asked Degorram, eyes bright with excitement.

 

"Go ---- yourself," Degorram muttered without looking at him.

 

The Necromancer let out a hearty laugh and grinned. "You never cease to amuse me. You will make an excellant pet." He turned and marked an area with his hands, humming softly. Degorram lifted her eyes and stared at him, disturbed by the sudden appearance of what she could swear was cheerfulness.

 

With a whistle a tiny glass box appeared on the ground. The man stretched his arms up and the box grew until it was taller than him. Tapping its surface, an empty space, perhaps a door, appeared. He turned and beckoned to the creature holding her.

 

Degorram's muscles tingled unpleasantly as the soldier pulled her closer to the box. Weakly she pushed her feet under her and tried to resist, but her captor walked on, unphased. The dirt piled up around her boots, the only sign of her struggle.

 

"Your weakness really is adorable," the Necromancer said. The creature stopped and held her in front of the box, awaiting further orders, which the Necromancer seemed happy to delay. He stared at Degorram and leaned over her, smelling her hair. Degorram's skin crawled and she tried to kick him. He was conveniently too far away. The Necromancer straightened again and smiled into her face. "Put her in the box."

 

Degorram cried out as the creature shoved her through the opening. She landed heavily on the glass floor and quickly turned over, watching the opening vanish completely. The Necromancer stretched his arms again and slowly brought them together. The box began to shrink.

 

Degorram watched in horror as it compressed further and further, past the standing point, the crouching point, until she could barely turn about. Her shoulders pressed against one side as her feet pressed against the other, the top pushing down on her head. She banged on its surface: unbreakable. Unbreakable and very cramped.

 

The Necromancer crouched down and tapped the glass. "This is your home now," he said, his voice muffled by the glass. "Until I feel the need to be amused. Now I don't have to spend so much energy holding you in place." He chuckled and walked away to another side of the clearing where he began to give silent orders to set up camp. The creatures moved without question and without expression, turning the simple druid's temple into a sinister hall of the dead.

 

Degorram twisted around until she was sitting with her legs and arms more comfortably situated. So this was how he planned to keep her subdued. She didn't even want to think what might happen if she attempted to shift into anything bigger than she was. If she tried to become smaller, the consequences might be just as dire. However, she was curious. She fixed her eyes on her hand and tried to make her fingernail purple.

 

Pain lanced through her head and down into her whole body. She screamed, tears springing to her eyes. The Necromancer, now seated upon an elaborate throne, framed by torches that lit his ghostly face with fire, laughed. The creatures moved towards her and picked the box up to place it next to the man's feet.

[Sir Walnut]

Sir Walnut smirked to himself as he trotted up to the main entrance of the keep. He actually manage to find the door in just around 30 minutes. The place was already starting to rub off on him. Walnut slowly opened the door and peered out into the cool night rain. The air smelled overwhelmingly of decaying flesh and rot. The pungent odor pushed all other scent to the background, overpowering his sensitive nose. He swooned slowly, nostrils flaring, nearly collapsing in the door. Reigning in his trusty sniffer, Walnut walked calmly into the ran. Looking up he could make out a bizarre cloud full of little specs of light. Deciding the best course would be to ignore it, he set off into the grounds surrounding the keep.

 

Walnut enjoyed the rain. The soft patter of it on the trees and even his own top hat always made him think of home. He'd been once, to the country of his family, and it had rained everyday. Just like those woods it was to quiet. Unlike the the forests of home, the environment didn't change for the expected. No howling wolves or sudden crashes of thunder. This was the silence of impending disaster. Walnut whistled a cheerful tune as he made his way closer to a large clearing.

[Ozymandias]

A lone figure strode forth from the gate of the Pen, picking his way with a metal spear in hand. A cloak as dark as midnight blew open in the breeze, revealing a sword at one of his hips, a curved dagger at the other.

 

He would seem a harbinger of death, but for the twinkle of a million stars in the cloak's cloth.

 

Ozymandias' thoughts marched with a cadence that matched his quick step.

 

He has hurt Degorram. He now marches on the Keep. I'll have to wait until he gets close. Too close. Until then, however, I remain an old man with baser trickery still up my sleeve.

 

As well as a few other things, he thought with a smile untouched by mirth.

 

Meanwhile, an odd sight indeed was steadily making its way around the entirety of the Mighty Pen Keep: Shadow Creatures roved everywhere, with parchments clutched tightly in their fists. Upon their quietly but insistently catching the attention of every Pennite, those sheets of parchment were unfurled; one for each denizen.

 

They all read only: WAR. PREPARE.

 

 

Ozymandias's nostrils flared as he made his way to the edge of the forest.

[Wyvern]

Wyvern shoves a sack of Almost Dragonic Brand Spontaneous Fire Cracklers™ next to the bags of Almost Dragonic Brand Tactless Tacks™ and Almost Dragonic Brand Pedigree Rocks™ that rest in a fortified area near the Pen's Cabaret windows. The overgrown lizard brushes the sweat from his scaly forehead, then pulls out his portable crystal ball and mutters a little universal incantation over it.

 

“Wyv to owl eyes, Wyv to owl eyes. The geld’sss in the piggy bank, I repeat, the geld’s in the piggy bank. How's the watch from the tower? Uh huh, uh uh. Minor zombie spottingsss you say? Yeah, go on and report'em. I'm gonna head back over to the Conservatory to see if Kikuyu's got the Dego search party together, might have to tag along jussst cus I wanna make sure she's OK. Alright, I'll call ya back. Until then, proceed to Operation Almost Dragonic Brand Victory. Ain't no necro creeps invading my exploitable Keep! Wyv out."

 

Wyvern stuffs the portable crystal ball back into his pocket, then crosses his arms over his chest as he looks over the arrangement of the items next to the fortified Recruiter's Office paperwork barricades. The overgrown lizard breaths a slightly smoky sigh and crosses his claws for good luck, then grabs his patented Almost Dragonic Brand Vampiric Batting Ball Boomerang Slingshot™ and makes a run back in the direction of the Conservatory planning room. He screeches to a brief hall at Celes Crusador's Cafe, where he takes a moment to shuffle through the shelves of cooking items before hesitantly grabbing a pepper shaker and stuffing it into his pocket.

 

"Jusssst in case..." Wyvern cringes at the thought of the substance reaching his nostrils, then grumbles and dashes back off towards the Conservatory. "The things I do for my fans..."

[Hjolnai]

After several encounters with Undead creatures, the shining armour of the orcish rider is left somewhat stained, and the orc himself is completely exhausted. His horse, too, is much the worse for wear; its brown coat is lined with red scratches, and the hooves are almost as bloodstained as the huge, glowing sword on the orc's back. Even worse, the number of zombies only seems to increase as the orc rides further along the road. It is now apparent that the darkness here is far too great for any warrior to stop alone.

As the dawn breaks, relief washes over the orc, who has just seen a welcome sight: An enormous keep. He whispers in his horse's ear, and they burst into a gallop. Soon there will be rest, and allies to fight whatever malice grips this land.

Edited June 5, 2008 by Hjolnai

[Sir Walnut]

Hours earlier...

 

The full moon peered out from behind a rain cloud, casting a light over the clearing as Walnut approached.

 

"Oh dear.", Walnut said quietly to himself.

 

Since the moon hung full in the sky he realized he would have to remove his suit. He could never imagine willingly letting it be torn to shreds. That would simply be ungentlemanly. The thought made him shudder.

 

Suddenly a dark hand holding a piece of parchment jutted out of the shadow of the nearest tree.

 

"Thank you very much?", Walnut said as he politely took the small piece form the creepily two dimensional hand.

 

It simply said "War. Prepare." Interesting. Well, Walnut thought to himself, I've already got my rapiers and my bag for my suit, I couldn't need much else. I wonder what Should probably change still. A moment later A stark raving naked, except of course his top hat, sword belt hanging from his mouth, Walnut steps nervously towards the clearing.

 

"I hope no one sees this. It's just weird when others watch."

Edited June 5, 2008 by Sir Walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat

[Ozymandias]

The animated dead lurched through the dark, spreading across the Pen lands in twos, threes, ones, sixes, sevens in a pattern that slowly unfurled like a blooming flower.

 

 

Two such creatures made their halting but steady way through the trees, hands outstretched, almost as men groping their way along in the dark. Funeral clothes that were already being devoured by fungus were torn and tattered by errant branches and rocks. Their flesh went in small degrees with each scrap of cloth, but no sound came from their pitted throats in response.

 

 

The only thing the creatures knew now was their commands to march forward through ever obstacle they could, around every one they could not, and to rend, tear, crush, devour anything they came across that was not them.

 

Thus their confusion went straight through befuddlement and into stupor as a woosh sound accompanied their sudden inability to support themselves on their lower legs, and they went crashing to the ground.

 

The sad, slow things had enough time to perceive that something that glinted came down for each of their faces before they could see no more, then knew no more.

 

 

With a look of revulsion, Ozymandias cleaned his knife and sword on the grass before retreating into the brush. Hoof beats were approaching on the eastern road.

 

 

 

In the keep, the Loremaster rubbed gingerly at his temple as he walked slowly toward the Library.

Edited June 22, 2008 by Ozymandias

[Sir Walnut]

As Walnut stepped into the moonlight cast across the clearing he felt the sudden change over take his body. He willed the change on, forcing it to progress faster and faster. First, he felt his hair thicken and spread along his flesh. Suddenly, the world dimmed as his vision weakened. Then, his perception sharpened and the forest was even more alive as his hearing and sense of smell sharpened beyond what he had expect. The silence of the world deafened him and the scents made him reel momentarily as he adjusted. He felt his body pop and groan as it shifted in to place. He had watched the change in a mirror once, and felt his lunch make it's presence known in his throat.

 

As the world suddenly snapped back into focus the smells danced in his vision. Anger had filled this field only hours ago. The thoughtless minds of the undead left a swarming mass of grey nothing as it cocooned around the scent of anger. A member of the keep had been here, unwillingly. Something he had never smelled before brought his mind to a focus. Something alien had been there as well, and stood next to the rage. It was unsettling to say the least.

 

Walnut cocked his head as he heard the familiar sounds of combat, that disappeared almost as suddenly as it echoed through the woods. The alien mind could wait, trouble was already closing in near the eastern road to the keep. Shambling echoed from beyond the forest. War truly had come to the keep.

[Sir Walnut]

As the red furred wolf that was Walnut ran quietly through the forest the smell of decaying cloth and rotting flesh mingled into his powerful nose. The shambling echoed like the steps giants as he closed in on the undead menace that now stalked the forest. He made the hunters into prey as he fell upon them, a shadowy wraith, quieting the thoughtless grotesquery. More than a dozen fell to his powerful jaws as he passed through the disorganized ranks of the dead.

 

Walnut could tell that something about himself was different. Every scent was sharper, even the slightest noise reverberated in the air. He felt no fatigue as he teared into the random cadavers that made up the main force of his enemy. He could do this for days without stopping. He hadn't never experience the power that coursed through him now. It was euphoric.

 

He quietly hunted his prey as never before, stopping as he came upon two corpses, heads destroyed, laying on their backs. He had heard this slight ruckus from the field? His ears had never been this sharp. How much had he grown since he had left his home?

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Wyvern stared at the dark door with roses engraved along the edges. A couple of throwing-knives had been embedded along the doorframe, glinting sharply in the dusky light. The Almost-Dragonic Elder adjusted his bandolier of various Almost-Dragonic ™ weapons and cans of pepper, bright red against his scales. With a hesitant claw he knocked on the door.

 

There was no answer. Wyvern frowned and pushed on the wood-- the door swung open. Gulping slightly and putting a hand on one of the pepper-cans, the Elder inched forward into the room. Everything was dark. The wardrobe looked like it had exploded, clothes half stuffed into a compact waist-sack and strewn across the floor. More weapons were lying on the bed, embedded in the wall, hanging from hooks on the ceiling. Wyvern sorted through the clothing, vaguely looking for any signs of a struggle. He blushed furiously as a lacy black ninja bra appeared in his hands and swallowed hard.

 

A faint light spilled across the floor coming from the kitchen. A shadow moved across it, accompanied by clamping, slamming, and other strange noises. Wyvern moved closer, his pepper-can held ready.

 

Kikuyu sat cross-legged in front of the fridge, boxes of takeout, pizza, and other leftovers scattered and empty around her. Currently she was using chopsticks to eat an enormous chocolate cake, on which were the bright green remains of icing-ed letters reading "KikuDego Day".

 

"Kikuyu?" Wyvern gulped, lowering his can.

 

The ninja looked guiltily up at him, her chopsticks in her mouth. Surprisingly, there was not a speck of food on her face despite the obvious erruption of snacks which had ensued. She swallowed hastily and looked away. "Sorry," she said. "When I get upset I eat." Her eyes travelled to the bra in his hands and her eyebrows went up.

 

Wyvern looked down at the object of her interest and hiccupped. "Oh!" The bra went flying somewhere near the coffee machine in his start and the Almost-Dragon almost launched the pepper as well, but managed to somehow stop the escape of deadly spices. "I'm here to...erm...it'sssssss time to go. You know, for Dego."

 

Kikuyu stood up slowly and dusted herself off. "I know. I'll finish packing." The ninja swept into the previous room and finished stuffing clothes into the sack. It was surprislingly small and light for holding so much, and Kikuyu buckled it to her hips with ease. She picked up over half of the weapons lying on the ground and buckled them or tucked them or snuck them here, there, and everywhere. Finally she turned to Wyvern. "I'm ready."

 

* * * *

 

Kikuyu and Wyvern stood at the edge of the Keep, eyes fixed on the forest. The night had fallen quickly and the trees shuddered in the night wind. Flashes of lightning from a storm to the east lit the branches and leaves of the plants. The wind moaned quietly, hissing through foliage seen and unseen.

 

"How fassssst sssshould we go; how long can Dego hold out?"

 

Kikuyu did not take her eyes from the forest. "Dego is strong. Back before the treehouse, she would participate in weight-lifting competitions just for amusement."

 

Wyvern pictured several men rippling and bulging with muscles straining and lifting huge weights. Suddenly an ethereal, out of place Degorram appeared, skinny and small next to the weight-lifters. They laughed at her but the shifter lifted the weights in one hand and tossed them into the air. She had walked out of the scene before they landed again. The Almost-Dragon swallowed again and blinked. "Sssso no hurry on that account."

 

Kikuyu turned to Wyvern. "No. But we should hurry just so we can kill that Necromancer. We'll--"

 

The sound of hooves on the road made both the ninja and the Almost-Dragon hunch down, eyes fixed towards the noise. A glint of armor and the rider appeared out of the shadows, a massive Orc knight on charger. Kikuyu and Wyvern both stood.

 

"Let's go before he passes," Kikuyu hissed. She grabbed Wyvern's wrist and yanked him across the road into the trees, disappearing immediatley into the bushes. The wind howled around the moon, but the trees did not sigh.

[Hjolnai]

As the exhausted orc rides along the road, he sees two figures scamper into the bushes beside the road. Despite no audible commands being given, his horse stops with a clattering of hooves, and the orc dismounts. He looks towards the area where slight sounds of rustling leaves are coming from, and speaks tiredly: "You two hiding there, come out and identify yourselves; be warned, if you serve the evil which grips this land, Aasharam's justice will call my wrath upon you!"

 

He waits for the two to come out of hiding; a ninja and an almost-dragon. Once they have given their names, Kikuyu and Wyvern, the orc calmly says, "I am Sir Ordolar, Knight of the Order of Aasharam, Lord of Justice. It seems to me that you are not minions of whatever evil has befallen this - " before he is interrupted by Kikuyu, "We hunt the Necromancer!"

 

"A necromancer? This could be even worse than I thought." Ordolar sighs, "I really hate to do this, but I'm so tired... Aasharam, grant me the strength to continue serving you this day!" Suddenly, he seems much refreshed. "A pity, for now Aasharam shall not grant me another request for at least a day, but we have not the time for me to rest; let us avoid injury for the time being. Now, let us go and bring this Necromancer to justice!"

 

Any minute now, he thought, one of them will accuse me of being a minion of this Necromancer...

Edited June 11, 2008 by Hjolnai

[Wyvern]

"Oh great, an orc..." Wyvern grumbled to Kikuyu under his breath, rolling his eyes as Ordolar mentioned some foreign orc God name. "A delusssional orc at that. You ssstay calm Kikuyu, let me do the talking..."

 

Wyvern cleared his throat and stepped out from his area of the bushes, walking up to Ordolar and slowly nodding to the paladin with a grin. The overgrown lizard then lifted a claw to his armpit and set about making flatulence noises in a traditional orcish greeting, nodding all the while

 

"BURRRP. YOU ORC. WE HUNTING PARTY." Wyvern hissed the words slowly, gesturing with his claws to make sure that Ordolar understood. "YOU STAY HERE. WE FIND CHICKEN DRUMSTICK."

 

Wyvern turned to Kikuyu and muttered through his teeth:

 

"Now'ssss our chance, let'sss make a run for it!"

 

Kikuyu slapped her forehead, then shook her head at Wyvern and stepped out to greet Ordolar herself.

 

"*Ahem* Apologies for my friend's rude greeting and way with words there, what he meant to say is that we'd love your aid in battling and killing the Necromancer. The forest is dense, however, and it may be best to leave your steed at bay. Isn't that right, Wyvern?"

 

Wyvern ceased running his claws across his throat and flashing "don't do it" hand motions in Kikuyu's direction as Ordolar and the ninja turned to face him. He lifted a claw to one of his horns and let out a nervous laugh, then jerked his head in a nodding motion and set about examining the foliage of the forest entrance.

 

"Aasharam be praised that you are on the side of good." Ordolar smiled at Kikuyu as he tied his horse to a sturdy tree, rubbing its head to let it know he wouldn't be long. "How will we know where the necromancer is hiding? The forest is vast, and we haven't much time..."

 

"Uuuuhhhhhmmm, I don't think there'll be too much of a problem there guysssss."

 

Kikuyu and Ordolar turned as Wyvern lifted himself from the foliage. The overgrown lizard twisted his scaly snout in disgust as he held up a rotting zombie finger for the others to see. "They left sssorta a trail if ya get my drift..."