Hostel Fox

[Ozymandias]

In the courtyard, Ozymandias bled from a dozen wounds and counting. The ghouls, zombies, skeletons, wights and other things he could not name all unhesitantly clawed, tore, stabbed, and bit at him. The only thing that had kept him alive so far was such creatures' natural disorganization and low common sense. They kept getting in one another's way so often he had suffered as yet no worse than severe flesh wounds.

 

When wights had joined, Ozymandias knew his time was running short. They were intelligent enough to be a very deadly problem. He waited. His stomach churned violently now, and his heart beat faster and faster as the oppressive stink of his assailants threatened to overwhelm him. Greedy, unfeeling jaws tore a hunk of skin off his arm. Biting back a cry, Ozymandias waited for his opportunity.

 

Some enterprising ghoul's claws scrabbled their way toward his throat. Now. Twisting with all the strength he had held in reserve for this precise moment, he intercepted the hand with his own teeth. Biting down hard, he severed two fingers from the creature's hand and swallowed them. The creature recoiled in confusion; but he was one among countless dozens that seemed to try and kill him by the sheer press of their rotted flesh. Luckily for the old king, that did not matter anymore.

 

He lost all sensation of the pain, crushing weight, and dizzying putrescence as he slowly chanted in a language thousands of years dead in his homeland, and to this land, wholly new. Completing a short mantra, he shut his eyes tightly and drew in a spiritual breath with all his might. In that same moment, the creatures finally managed to tear free Ozymandias' breastplate. His soft flesh stood little chance against rending claws, ravenous jaws, and limbs imbued with unholy might.

 

The moment passed and a full half of the undead invading the Hostel simply dropped where they stood, never to rise again. None could guess at what their master must have thought as he lost half the strength of his spells- all of it absorbed into one man.

 

The threat was not past, however. Hundreds upon hundreds still savaged the land and its people. The monsters now had a much thinner margin of advantage in numbers, and the turn of the tide began in earnest as nearly a hundred undead beings were flung away from where Ozymandias the Loremaster had stood with such speed and violence that they were impaled on nearby tree branches, or simply smashed to final death against the hostel walls or each other.

 

In the new clearing, the Loremaster stood, sword raised high. Throwing back his head, he roared his defiance in that strange language and charged back into the fray.

[Tamaranis]

Two spells simultaneously struck the ill-defined form of the creature Tamaranis was fighting. The first was a blast of the lighting that produced neither light nor heat. Tamaranis knew it would be ineffective in causing any lasting physical damage, but that wasn’t the point. He was only casting it so his opponent would realize the other spell. The other spell wasn’t nearly as flashy even as the dark lightning. It was completely invisible to even undead eyes under normal circumstances, but an archmage learns ways to see things.

 

The second spell sent twisting cords of magic that had been the energies of a warding spell spiralling out into the night. Even so, Tamaranis could see the thick wall in place between the monster’s vital force and his lack thereof. Not nearly as sturdy as it had been, but still there all the same. He began formulating the next ward-breaking spell to throw against it.

 

The creature shook off the effects of the dark lightning as if it had suffered no more than a sudden chill and swung it’s head forward, snapping with a jaw that seemed to reach out, independent from the rest of the skull’s movements. Tamaranis abandoned the swing he’d been taking but still had several teeth drag through his lower arm. He brought the side of the opposite hands down across the creatures eye, slicing in as if it had been a knife blade, then quickly retracted the limb in order to keep possession of it.

 

The eye rolled a hundred and eighty degrees in the socket to reveal the other side in perfect working order, and the creature lashed out with both its forelimbs, knocking Tamaranis to the earth and trying to pin him there, but only catching a few links of what little mail armour he had left instead. The thing had been moving a little slower since Tamaranis had managed to blast a few pieces off it.

 

It raised itself up on its hind legs, and Tamaranis took the moment to cast another harmless bolt of lightning and hopefully less harmless spell combination. Then he turned plane of the blade of his sword parallel to the earth and drove it into the monster’s knee. He managed to get some distance between it and himself as the leg buckled broke, then pulled itself back together, sans sword, as the creature regained it’s footing.

 

In eagerness to destroy, the creature didn’t take into account the fact that there was no way the sword wielding vampire it was attacking could have regained his sword. It furiously tried to strike a suddenly faster opponent, finally succeeding, but only meeting slightly more resistance than would be offered by the smoke its target suddenly dissolved into.

 

From a vantage point some distance in the air, but not so far up as to make observing the results of his magic difficult, Tamaranis blasted the creature again, and followed up with some flames possessing a demonic intelligence. That wall was getting very thin now.

 

The creature propelled itself towards Tamaranis, using the wings it had not discarded, the surface of its body once against folding in on itself to extinguish the flames. It was too agile in the air, despite its reliance on wings, to avoid, so Tamaranis threw himself directly at it. The creature thrust an arm out, and into Tamaranis’ torso, but before it could tighten a fist around his innards he slammed both fists, augmented with forcebolts, into its throat. The manna stream wavered now even with that magic, but the creature fell several meters through the air before it could recover from the sudden impact.

 

As it did, Tamaranis descended, faster than gravity alone would account for, to his sword. As a powerful but exhausted man finds himself relying on sheer determination to lift a weight he would normally lob through the air with casual ease, Tamaranis once again called up dark lightning to mask the spell he cast against the creature’s wards. He didn’t have time to collect his weapon before the creature was upon him.

 

The dark lighting was largely dark because the light and heat produced by a regular lightning bolt are a waste of energy. The dark lightning is incredibly efficient. Despite that Tamaranis didn’t have the magical energy left to call upon it and attack a ward at the same time. The creature could probably feel the power behind his spells weakening.

 

Tamaranis almost smiled at the thought of the perverse, unwitting joy the creature must be feeling at the thought of the troublesome quarry it was about to finally finish off.

 

He couldn’t overcome this thing in a toe to toe melee, especially unarmed, so he didn’t try. Instead Tamaranis levitated to a great enough height to force the creature to stand on its hind legs to fight him, and thrust one open hand toward it’s chest as he called out the magical syllables to his ward-breaking spell one last time. His fingers embedded to a depth between the first and second knuckles, and he fastened his grip. The other hand seized the creature just under its chin, which promptly disappeared, and tried to push away it’s twisting maw.

 

The creature seized Tamaranis with both claws, confident its greater strength would overcome and it could pull him into range of the rotating collection of blades that served as its teeth.

 

Tamaranis completed the spell, and the wall came down. The creature might have been aware the spell this time, because it was not accompanied by a lightning ruse, but it didn’t matter.

 

For the second time during this battle, the creature experience real pain, not the pain caused by an unwanted change in the shape of its body, but the pain that came with actually being injured. The things wards, natural or unnatural, were gone, and there was nothing separating it from the void. It’s vital force flowed in a towards the hand embedded in its body, but never reached Tamaranis. The void swallowed the power up, made it nothing, and a some manna was generated in the process.

 

The creature’s initial response was to twist the tissue this vampire had foolishly embedded his own hand in and sever it. But there was nothing but numbness where it had been struck, and spreading out in a circle from the wound was an area where its flesh no longer possessed its regular motion. It struck at him with its claws, and transformed its wings to another set to strike faster.

 

Tamaranis used the influx of manna as he received it. He kept both hands firmly attached to the creature and called out forcebolts with fantastic speed, using them to parry many of the attacks from the creature’s four “arms“. When it did manage to strike, he siphoned energy through that point of contact as well.

 

The creature tried to flee, but death itself was literally closing in, and even the pang of terror it felt as it realized that lent it no strength.

 

Then something entirely unexpected by both parties ripped through the forest where the fight had taken place. A powerful, de-animating magic.

 

Tamaranis experienced a sensation like trying to balance on a narrow platform that was swinging in chaotic patterns above infinite nothing as he tried to keep his being correctly distributed across planes of existence. He wasn’t sure how long it took for the platform to stop moving, but when it did, the creature was gone.

[Yui-chan]

Salinye's study had quickly become the gathering point for every still-living guest or staff member at Custos Manor, leading to the set up of a triage unit in the corner, where the grumpy old druid was busily employing his healing magics on a variety of wounds and breakages. Lethia, the first to benefit from his reviving touch, had assigned herself the role of nurse, patting hands and taking basic notes to help him in his duties.

 

Meanwhile, the able-bodied mages and fighters had circled up nearer the door, animatedly discussing the situation. Salinye listened quietly while Jirah and Gyrfalcon worked together to paint as complete a picture of the attack as anyone knew, her face carefully impassive, but Yui noticed the tension in her shoulders, her tendency to clench her fist against her skirts. Despite the short time she'd known Salinye Celestialgrace, the young human understood that there was little that was more important to her than her hostel, and she could well imagine that it was tearing away at the elven sorceress to know that it was under such a vicious attack.

 

"I suggest we fight fire with fire. If someone can track down the mind that's controlling all of these undead, then we should all gather our mystical resources to mount a direct assault to shatter it or at least disable it. I'm still ready for anything," came the input from a crimson-eyed woman that Yui didn't recognize, one who was clearly in need of a healer's services. Despite her bloody wounds, though, a strange variety of power danced in the air around her, leaving the Huntress wondering what she was capable of.

 

Gyrfalcon seemed to be more familiar with the lady, or at least a good judge of talent. He shook his head, a frown marring his half-elven features. "The problem is tracking down the source of all this. We aren't mentats or Illusionists, for the most part, miss, and we don't have any idea of the strength of the person behind this. Besides, who's to say that the undead would stop if we took out the mage? Some animation spells can go on even after the caster is dead."

 

"Agreed," Salinye chimed in, her eyes cold. "Right now, I'm more worried about taking care of the undead threatening my hostel and the people in it. We'll worry about the source when we have a little more leisure. What other options do we have?"

 

Her eyes traveled the circle, meeting the gazes of each person in turn. Daryl smirked and flexed his hands. "We could always go back to throwing ourselves against the unending tide of zombies, liches and wraiths."

 

When no one laughed, he had the good graces to look a bit abashed, mumbling, "Sorry... not helpful, huh?"

 

Merelas frowned and chimed in, "Well, fire is pretty effective against them, but ... it's also effective against this building. If ... if worst comes to worst..."

 

"Absolutely not." The manor's owner interrupted with a shake of her head, clenching her fists against her side once more, her harsh refusal earning a little wince from the newcomer. Normally, she might have tried to soften the blow, but the events of the day were quickly wearing away at her civility.

 

When no one else offered an idea, Yui opened her mouth to speak, but she paused before she'd made a sound, her attention caught by a sensation outside of the physical realm. She turned her head, staring at the door to the hallway with a distant expression, as if she were trying to see through it. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gyrfalcon do the same, his hand instinctively going for the hilt of his katana. Both of them arrived at their conclusion in the same moment, and their eyes met across the circle. The two once-archmages recognized the unique signature of Ozymandias' most ancient magicks, and knowing that he had resorted to such drastic measures did nothing to ease their worries.

 

It did, however, inspire the ranger to break into the silence that had descended over the group, though his eyes stayed on his human peer. "What about an Ascendant spell? Holy Word or Miracle?"

 

Yui frowned slightly, her expression apologetic. "A sufficiently powerful Holy Word would easily disable the undead, but ... I'm out of mana. Completely. No matter how much I wish I could, I would not be able to cast something with enough strength behind it."

 

"Perhaps not alone," Salinye chimed in, her expression thoughtful, "but what if we could provide you the mana to power the spell?" The elven sorceress glanced from Yui to Gyrfalcon, her eyes questioning.

 

"A mana feed?" Gyr blinked, scratching at his chin for a moment. "Well... it could work, if everyone's willing. Yui-chan?"

 

The young woman nodded, fighting to keep her exhaustion from showing. "I will do whatever I can, but not everyone here is a mage. Those who agree to help will need to understand that we are talking about sapping away some of your energy, perhaps even most of it, to feed the spell. It's a ... slightly intrusive process, though you needn't worry about dastardly mages rifling around in your heads or anything. It's just ... um... an uncomfortable sensation?" She glanced around the circle of heroes, her gaze resting for a moment on each one of them. "Every last person in the circle will be drained, and I can't know the extent of that drain until I start casting the spell and can sense how far the Word has to reach."

 

Jirah frowned slightly, his brows coming together. "And if this doesn't work, we're all going to be weak as kittens and surrounded by undead?"

 

Gyrfalcon answered with a shrug, "Well, we'll all be weaker anyway," earning him an even deeper frown from the assassin.

 

"It won't fail, Jirah. I'll see to that," came the quiet assurance from the black-cloaked magess, her soft voice given away by the determination blazing in her eyes.

 

"But the spell won't harm the hostel itself?" Salinye added in, her attention on the Huntress.

 

Yui shook her head, ignoring a lock of hair that tickled her cheek at the motion. "No. The spell isn't force-based. It only unravels the necromantic powers that animate dead matter, thus it doesn't effect people or buildings or other enchantments."

 

"It sounds like the best option we've had yet," Daryl chimed in, this time staying serious. He glanced at the others who remained silent, soliciting willing nods from Annael, Ayshela, Merelas and even Adrynna before he turned his wolfish gaze on the magess. "Tell us what we need to do."

 

Yui nodded slightly, looking at Gyrfalcon. "What do you think? Should we try to move to somewhere more open, or risk doing it from in here?"

 

The ranger frowned, glancing at the door as another loud crash echoed from down the halls somewhere. "It's a risk either way. If we try to move, we could end up trapped and ultimately unable to form the circle and cast. If we stay, the Word will take more power to work, won't it?"

 

"Yes..." The other archmage nodded, her expression troubled. "It's a sound-transmitted spell, and though I can use mana to amplify my voice, it will be that much harder with four sturdy walls around me muffling it."

 

An idea occured to her, and she turned to the hostel's keeper. "Salinye, can we get to a tower or the roof without having to go through the halls?"

[Alaeha]

There aren't any towers. This isn't a fortress." Salinye replied. "The only way onto the roof would be magic, I think."

 

Jirah choked back a laugh. He certainly hadn't needed any magic to find the roof... now there was an idea. He practically flew to the window.

 

"Well... if I can get onto the roof from here," He offered, "I have some rope that you might be able to climb."

 

"It's an idea, but will the rope be long enough?" Gyrfalcon asked.

 

"I'm not quite sure. It'll be close, either way. I'd rather try it than sit here clueless though. If nothing else, if we do make it onto the roof, we can be weaker safely out of reach of the common undead." Turning to Salinye, Jirah asked, "Is it a go then?"

 

Receiving a nod, he opened the window and looked out more carefully. When his eyes fell on the garden's fountain, he almost laughed out loud. With only a passing remark of, "I'll be back." he leaped from the window toward a tree.

 

Catching the second branch from the bottom, he forced himself to relax. He only cursed a little when he felt the familiar sensation of having his arms near-to ripped off. It was quick work to find one of the garden's vine walls to climb up.

 

"No way to get to the roof without magic..." He smirked as he climbed.

 

"Give it a rest. She's tired, and she doesn't know you." Came a voice from his pouch. Nilani.

 

"I know. It was just amusing." He whispered. Only he could hear Nilani's speech, but his voice wasn't so effectively silenced.

 

When he reached the top of the garden wall, it was mere child's play to balance atop the wall long enough to reach the roof proper. The difficulties, he knew, lay ahead. Would this girl... Salinye... be able to climb a rope after whatever that old man had done to her? The others?

 

"We'll worry about that later..." He muttered. "There was a fireplace... that means a chimney. There it is!"

 

He glanced down to make sure he had the right room, and withdrew a long loop of pale, slender rope from his sleeve. A pair of simple knots later, he dropped the rope over the edge and slid down to the window.

 

"I think I'll assume it was long enough." He announced as he slipped through the opening. "Any brave souls willing to lead the way?"

[Ayshela]

Ayshela cast a brief glance about the room, seeing the weary faces and recognizing nervous gestures of some of those she knew.

 

"I will," she said. "I'll stand guard up there while the rest of you make your way up."

 

Grasping the rope and swinging herself out the window, she clambered up onto the roof with the ease of one who'd grown up in the trees. After a few moments checking the perimeter she returned to the rope and softly called back down "all clear," then began to patrol the roof to *keep* the way clear.

[Merelas]

Merelas stood below the window, waiting. As soon as he heard the "All Clear" from Ayshela, he nodded to the others, slid outside the window with elven (or more accurately, half fire-elven) grace, and climbed the rope nimbly. Eventually, he made his way onto the roof, and looked out below at the hacking array of undead.

 

"Next!" he called, unsure whether or not to keep his voice down. Sighting down the rope to the window, he waited for the next climber to appear...

 

Before he saw the person that would follow him up the rope, he was knocked backward onto his back. Claws tore into his side, and above him he saw a ghoul that had somehow floated up onto the roof. He scrambled for his sword, not thinking to use flames in his haste. before he could get there, however, the ghoul dropped down on top of him, limp.

 

Merelas kicked the ghoul off of him, and struggled to his feet. The woman-Ayshela, he thought- was standing a dozen yards away, her hand still outstretched from the throw. Merelas looked down, and removed the blade from the ghoul's lifeless body. Returning it to its owner, he said, "Thank you."

 

Briefly, she nodded, as she returned to the business at hand.

 

Hopefully, no more undead would make their way up to the roof, or securing the mage circle would be a hard thing.

 

Time will tell, the half fire-elf thought.

Edited December 21, 2003 by Merelas

[Ozymandias]

Meanwhile, much further away on the ground, Ozymandias rampaged through undead horrors like a scythe through wheat to make sure that his friends and charges stayed unmolested.

 

 

His previously uncast spell from another world's antiquity held him tightly in its thrall. Bone, ichor, and rotting meat flew about him as he whirled like a dervish through the seemingly unstoppable tide of grotesque monsters, sword flashing, fists and feet, flailing; lashing out with such terrific force all lesser creatures on the receiving end of the disorderly blows exploded into a hundred flying fragments. Even vampires and liches staggered under the onslaught before finally falling to this mindless dead-living man thing who tore through their ranks.

 

 

With every injury he sustained the unholy energy coursing through his body brought dead blood vessels, nerves, even cells back to functioning unlife. It lent Ozymandias the strength of arm of every single animated corpse he felled.

 

 

His fingers cracked, his flesh tore, his teeth loosened in the savage and completely mindless counterattack that was mounted against him and he, heedless of all pain, aggravated each injury in his simple mission without a second thought. Each hammerblow of his fist, every coiled lunge into the fray cost him more and more harm. Ozymandias could not feel it...but his body could only be pushed so far. Time was running out.

[Gyrfalcon]

Daryl peeked out the window at the seething undead below and grinned tightly, but there was no humor in that expression. He looked up at the night sky, the moon peeking from between clouds. “Bah, quarter moon.” he said, then without thinking about it, he willed his Change, flesh and bones flowing from human to the humanoid fox state between human and fox.

 

“What the?” Jirah said, bringing his blade between himself and Daryl. “Oh quit it.” Daryl said, before clutching the broken-hafted halberd in his mouth and bounding onto the window sill. Eschewing the rope, he sprang into the air and caught the edge of the roof. An athletic pivot brought him vertical and he released to turn a summersault and land on the edge of the roof.

 

“Quit showing off.” Ayshela whispered, as Daryl spat his new-made axe into his hand.

 

“Of course.” the werefox whispered back, grinning. As he turned, a tile loosened by his movements slid under his feet. He recovered his balance easily, but the tile continued to accelerate its descent. Daryl’s eyes widened as he dove for the tile, but it slipped beyond his fingers and flew out over the edge. It whistled past Gyrfalcon to strike one of the undead in the back of the head. It snarled and whirled to look up.

 

A hurled axe buried itself in its head, ending its warning movements. Daryl snarled as he dragged Gyrfalcon up and let the rope down again as soon as the half-elf was clear, using his strength to ease the passage of others. “I’m going to miss that weapon, I’m sure of it.” he grumbled to himself as he pulled Yui-chan up and over the edge of the roof. Her eyes widened as they took in grim, strange face before her expression relaxed. “Daryl, you don’t look nearly as cuddly as you normally do.” was all she said as she slipped up the roof, as silent as the shadows that enshrouded her.

 

Daryl lowered the rope again and concentrated on looking less angry. It seemed to work, as Salinye only looked startled when he pulled her up. Jirah still looked unnerved, but he didn’t try to stab Daryl, which the werefox always counted as a plus.

 

Adrynna came last and looked unsurprised as she stepped past the werefox. Daryl peered over the edge to make sure no one else was coming. The battle below drew his eyes, as Ozymandias cut a swath through the undead, rampaging here and there throughout the courtyard with no set plan, but instead trying to kill as many living dead as he could at one time. Daryl’s eyes widened as the mage took a crushing attack to the side that he didn’t react to in the slightest, beyond whipping his sword around to take the creature’s head off. A ghoul coming up behind raised something, and Daryl recognized it... the axe he himself had thrown. Without second thought, he wrenched a tile free and threw it at the ghoul.

 

The ghoul’s head all but exploded under the weight of the thrown missile, and it wavered for a long moment. Ozymandias came around and tore the axe free, howling as he used it to smash a zombie to the ground before whirling on, axe in one hand, sword in the other.

 

Daryl’s attack had not gone unnoticed though, and a ghoul whirled and snarled before another hurled missile blasted it back. Daryl whirled as a whispered cut through the night, to see Ayshela beckoning him on. “Daryl, come on!” Ayshela whispered harshly. Then her eyes widened as a pair of bony hands dragged a withered body up behind Daryl. “Behind you!” she shouted, whipping forth a knife.

 

Daryl turned, sweeping his leg up in a kick that tumbled the ghoul a dozen feet into the air and down into the milling undead. “Damned undead!” he said, delivering a neck-snapping kick the zombie that slowly dragged itself over the edge of the roof. Its head lolled back, but the body kept coming until Daryl smashed it with his forearm, dropping it off the wall and scraping a skeleton away from the side of the building. Ayshela’s thrown dagger took a large skeleton in the head and knocked the creature’s skull away from the body. It waved for a long moment and then fell to pieces.

 

Daryl turned and raced up the rooftop, flinching slightly as an arrow buzzed by to hit with a meaty thunk behind him. Arrows raced by in a steady stream as Gyrfalcon put his bow to work, knocking undead from the rooftop one after another.

 

“Gyrfalcon-san get up here, we’re almost ready!” Yui-chan called urgently, and Gyrfalcon thrust his bow into Daryl’s hands, along with his quiver, half-full of arrows. “Try to aim down the arrow and for the gods sakes, don’t pull too hard.” he said before racing up to stand with the spell-casters.

 

Daryl blinked and put arrow to bow, drawing to full reach smoothly before releasing. The arrow buried itself in the tiles at the feet of a ghoul that snarled and threw itself forward. Ayshela stepped forward and chopped it out of the air. “Thanks, I never did see the point of bows.” Daryl said, managing to stagger a stinking cadaver with his next shot.

 

“Don’t mention it. Might want to hit that one to the left.” Ayshela said, tripping a zombie and kicking it back down the roof, its flailing roll taking several of its kin with it off the side of the roof.

 

Daryl pegged the next zombie, and the next, until his fingers reached for an arrow to find none. A ghoul snarled at him from a few feet away and Daryl dropped the bow and snarled back, backing it up with a full arm slap as the ghoul sprang, knocking it flying.

 

“I hope they get done soon.” he said, watching Jirah efficiently dispose of several zombies.

 

“Watch that left.” Ayshela repeated, dropping a ghoul with a swift combination of sword thrusts and kicks. She kicked its twitching remains down the roof, smiling grimly as several zombies fell once again.

 

“Yeah yeah.” Daryl said, swatting a zombie to the ground and repeating Ayshela’s tactic. A ghoul jumped over the rolling zombie, but instead got to get its head swatted around. It felt itself get lifted into the air and then the wind rushed past it. As it straightened its head, it hit another ghoul and blasted them into the seething crowd below.

 

The rising wave coming over the edge of the roof wasn’t impressed as it flowed to meet the defenders.

[Merelas]

My powers are exhausted for this night. I can offer you no further help. May the Lady Nature send you her blessing in my stead.

 

"That is not good," Merelas whispered, as he continued to circle the outside of the circle of mages. he was bleeding, and had nothing to bandage it with.

 

Ghouls and other undead were climbing up to the roof in force now. Seeing one of them approach the circle, Merelas summoned the fire, and it came to him, readily. Focusing his energies onto the intruder, it quickly burst into flame, and the fires consumed it almost immediately.

 

Mine, however, are not. Fire-elf, I am not powerless to help you in this fight. I give to you the power of leadership-- but before you may lead others, you must first learn to govern yourself. Control your temper, control your mind, control your soul. Know thyself-- fight on!

 

Merelas found himself with skills that he had never known suddenly, and he quickly put them to use. More and more undead were fighting their way over the roof, and Merelas was doing his best to keep them away from the circle. Charging at one group, he hurled his sword into one of the zombies, striking him in the throat, and sending him gurgling to the ground. Quickly, he launched himself into the air, planting both feet into the chest of another zombie, and sending him off of the roof, tumbling to the ground below.

 

"Brillemire, to me!" he called, and the sword burst into flame, before zooming upward in an arc where Merelas could take hold of it. Quickly, he brought it down behind him and forward, and a jet of liquid flame shot forward out of it, which quickly incinerated a ghoul that had been flying towards him.

 

Bringing his hands together, with the sword pointed upward, he closed his eyes. The eternal fire burns in me... let the flames of my ancestors spring to my aid!

 

Flames circled him in a ring, now, as he opened his eyes. Briefly, he smiled...

 

Sheathing his sword at his back, he began to deal out the fires he had summoned, concentrating on the area around the mage-circle.

 

Darkness always shies from light... let my flames set wrongs to right.

 

The fire burned.

[Yui-chan]

((1 of 3 - So it begins... the touchie-feelie mage circle... This is shaping up to be a few posts long, so bear with me. ))

 

While Jirah, Daryl, and the others fought with the undead, Yui climbed to the peak of the roof, her silvery gaze scanning every inch of the Hostel around them. The undead were truly legion, and as she watched them swarming through the courtyard and crashing through the open hallways, she fought against an uncharacteristic bout of hopelessness. Even Ozymandias, his blades flying as he cut a magic-imbued swath through their enemies, had managed to only dent their incredible numbers.

 

You've fought worse, the Huntress reminded herself as she watched the Loremaster raging across the courtyard. She had tens of thousands of years worth of memories filled with war against Nethers, and she'd fought countless battles against hordes of undead so massive that they'd filled the horizon. Of course, in those days, she'd had an army at her back and hundreds of nodes to draw from. A hundred thousand zombies would have been nothing to her before the fall of Terra, but now... Now, there was no kingdom, no collection of nodes, and no mana reserves to call upon. Now, it was only her and her spell against the masses, and she couldn't help but feel a bit inadequate. With friends and innocents relying on her for their defense, however, Temae Yui had absolutely no intention of failing.

 

With a sharp nod, the young woman turned away from the scene below, her thoughts racing as she calculated the power and range necessary to eliminate every last enemy. The number she came to was not quite as bad as she'd feared, but it was still more than she could manage alone. Far more. For the spell to succeed, it would take every last one of them, mage or not. She knew just how to proceed.

 

Down the slope of the roof, Gyrfalcon stood with his legs braced, the string of his bow still vibrating from the arrow that had just severed the spinal cord of the rotting corpse that had tried to sneak up behind Jirah. Yui called out to him, "Gyrfalcon-san get up here. We're almost ready!" and turned to Salinye without waiting for a response. The sorceress looked undeniably worn, but better after the touch of Merelas' amulet.

 

"With the others occupied, I will have to draw most heavily from you and Gyr, Salinye-san," she explained, half of her listening to the ranger's booted steps as he sprinted over the tiles. "It should only be mildly uncomfortable, and of course, I will not be forcing anything. I can only take what you offer me, so I ask that you try to keep yourself relaxed and open. Alright?"

 

Salinye nodded, her tilted eyes narrowing as she glanced down at the abominations that were ravaging her beloved home. "Do whatever you have to, Lady Yui. I'll give anything I can to get rid of these monsters."

 

"You have my promise. They'll be gone in a matter of minutes."

 

Gyr skidded to a stop beside them just as the Huntress finished her words, his keen gaze taking in both women at a glance. What he saw made his brows furrow. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked the human, noting the slump of her shoulders. The air around her, usually alive with healthy power, was still and sluggish, evocative of the current state of her magical strength. It didn't bode well for the spell. "We could find another way..."

 

Yui shook her head. "You know there isn't one, Gyr-kun," she said familiarly, trying to summon a reassuring smile. It came out a tad weak, but there nonetheless. "I can do this. I won't let the spell fail."

 

"I have no doubt," the half-elf responded, biting his tongue over the thought that completed the sentence. ... but I can't be as sure that you won't let yourself fail after you've cast it. I know you, Yui-chan. It was quite clear to him what kind of power her magic would require, and he wasn't sure the three of them had enough combined. If only they could reach Ozymandias...

[Yui-chan]

((2 of 3))

 

Nodding slightly, Yui glanced between the Gyrfalcon and Salinye. "You'll want to sit down," she said without explanation, closing her eyes pointedly as she began to focus her resources on the Holy Word. Despite a wary look that passed between them, they did as she asked, Salinye settling her skirts around her on the tiles. They closed their eyes as well, each reaching inside to find the door to the power they commanded and fling it open.

 

The Huntress tentatively touched her friends, establishing a tiny thread of connection to each of them, starting with Gyr and Salinye and then stretching herself down the roof to touch Daryl, Ayshela, Merelas, Adrynna and Jirah. Ozymandias' amazing power shone like a beacon, tempting her to go further, but she resisted the call, knowing that she could not risk the fragmenting of her attention or his. He hadn't been privy to the plan, after all.

 

With the connections established, Yui tapped the link between herself and Gyrfalcon and Salinye, slowly drawing on the power that the half-elf and high elf were offering her. The lines to the others stayed dead for the moment, and she resolved to keep them that way for as long as possible. She didn't want to leave anyone weak and vulnerable to the enemy until the very last second. They'd each already suffered enough injury for one day.

 

Focusing her attention on the matter at hand, the magess listened to the melody in the back of her mind, letting it vibrate softly from behind her closed lips. As her arms raised and her hands began their intricate dance through the air, she let the sound grow, carefully fitting each note to the weave of energy forming around her, in her, through her. The magic tasted strange, felt foreign from the elements of Gyrfalcon and Salinye's unique signature in it, but it was still beautiful and wonderful, its luminescence made exotic by the tingles of green and blue. Each note of the Hymn dropped into that pool of power, creating ripples that added to the pattern, amplifying the sense of something miraculous looming on the horizon.

 

Yui smiled at the innate majesty of her spell, forgetting her inhibitions and opening her mouth to wordlessly sing, the crystalline tones ringing from the rooftop. The sound surprised Gyr, and he opened his eyes to look up at the woman he'd known for millennia, his mouth falling open in wonder. In all those years, he'd never heard the Huntress sing, a fact that he now counted to be a terrible shame. She had a truly beautiful voice, almost too sweet and soulful to belong to a human, and as she sang the notes of one of the most powerful holy spells, he found his own lips curving upward to match hers. It was worth the mana drain to get such a rare and wonderful performance from the attention-shy Shadow Elder.

 

The power built, swirling around them as the cloaked woman channeled and shaped it, carefully nudging it away from its natural tendency to express itself in light and forcing it into the more complex realm of sound. After a moment, the melody had gained a harmony, an eerie ring from the air itself that echoed and multiplied until the woman sang with a veritable choir, each disembodied voice joining with hers to form a heart-wrenchingly haunting song. Salinye felt tears pressing at the back of her eyes, and though she could feel her exhaustion growing, she thought that perhaps the song was too wonderful to ever end. It hurt, though, at the same time, as if it pulled at the old scars and memories that she didn't ever want to face again.

 

Mo sukoshi*... that little part of Yui that wasn't enveloped in the spell waited, pressed, calculated, trying to catch that moment in which the magic had enough strength. Unaware of Adrynna's fascinating little mind-game with the undead, she was fighting to hold out on only hers, Gyr's and Salinye's strength for as long as possible, but that time was quickly expiring with the exponential growth of the spell. Second by second, it got louder and stronger, while she and her two friends got weaker. She could feel their hearts pounding, sense their reserves of energy nearing exhaustion. Soon, it would be time to- ... soon...

 

{* Japanese - 'A little more...'}

[Yui-chan]

((3 of 3 - If you haven't seen posts 1 and 2, then STOP reading and scroll up!

My turn's over! ... whew. *falls over* #_#))

 

The last thread fell into place, and the spell took over, moving itself into the final refrain. She let it carry her as shadows infringed on her thoughts, let her voice soar as she climbed the scale with the melody, arcing towards the limits of her vocal range. The weave shifted, its lines changing to symbols that filled her mind and heart and soul, and she knew it was time. The Holy Word danced in her thoughts, demanding release, and in one burst, she snapped open the links she'd formed to Merelas, Ayshela and the others, snatching the power she didn't have and throwing it into the Word as she cast the weave loose.

 

Through the roaring of her own blood in her ears, Salinye heard a Word, the only Word to the song that Yui had been singing for... how many minutes had it been? How many lifetimes? She didn't know, but it didn't matter. For the entire heartbeat in which she remembered that Word, it was the only thing worth knowing, the only thing worth thinking about. It was the perfect Word, the perfect sound, a window directly into eternity.

 

... and then she forgot it. They all did. The moment that Huntress fell silent, her Word fell away, leaving nothing more than the empty regret of a missed opportunity or a glimpse at something so far beyond them all that it was ... incomprehensible.

 

Merelas blinked back a sudden, rather embarrassing urge to cry and glanced over at Daryl to find him wiping a furry arm across his eyes as well. He was suddenly very tired, and his arm shook as he tried to sheath his sword. There wasn't any further need for it. The undead were gone, blasted to ash and less by the mere sound of the Holy Word. The only sign they'd ever been there were the drow-crafted weapons scattered about and a thin, gritty film of dust that was slowly settling throughout the Hostel.

 

At the peak of the roof, Gyrfalcon blinked his eyes open, feeling the moment of rapture drift away. The world spun around him for a moment, evidence of just how drained and woozy he was, but he still managed to get to his feet, his first priority being to look for his enemy. All it took was a quick glance down the sloping surface to see that the courtyard, once teeming, was empty except for a rather stunned-looking Loremaster. With a little grin, he waved down to Ozymandias, giving him a thumbs-up to let him know that all was clear. There wasn't an intact undead for as far as the eye could see.

 

The ranger turned to Yui, his smile growing brighter. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Salinye, still seated as she attempted to catch her breath and recover, but he left her alone for the moment, his gaze on the little human who stood with her back to them both. In the moonlit darkness, she was the embodiment of the shadows she traveled, given away only by the glimmer of washed-out-gold from her uncovered hair.

 

"That was ... impressive," Gyr said quietly, stepping up beside his friend. He looked down at her face as she turned towards him, noting first the fading residual glow on her eyes and then the weak smile curving her lips. At least she hadn't -

 

His thoughts stopped dead as the Huntress' knees buckled, and he reacted with his usual speed, catching her before her head could hit the hard tiles of the roof. Her slight form was dead weight in his arms, and for a moment, he felt panic grip his chest. He wouldn't put it past her to have sacrificed her last ounce of strength to the magic, thereby leaving nothing for the most basic functions of her body. Hurriedly, he pressed his fingers against the pulse-point on the side of her neck, holding his breath until he encountered the steady beat of her heart. Gyrfalcon breathed a little sigh of relief, but he still had a black-clad problem on his hands. Yui was out cold.

[Ozymandias]

Ozymandias, face ashen, spotted Gyrfalcon with a start. He smiled weakly and gave a small wave to the ranger in return. As Gyrfalcon turned away, the Loremaster took his breaths as deeply and as evenly as he could before dropping to his knees in the grass.

 

His face changed rapidly from grey to green. His weapons fell from nerveless fingers, and he pitched forward onto his hands.

 

The king of Egypt retched violently onto the lawn and felt strangely good about it.

[Tamaranis]

There was no sign of the demon. Either its shapeshifting abilities allowed it to adopted a more mundane guise that supernatural senses couldn’t penetrate, or it had already truly made good its escape. The gap in its warding would persist for some time, however, and if it should decide to suddenly return for revenge, it would still be suffering the same vulnerability that had caused it to flee in the first place.

 

With the demon defeated at least for the time being, and feeling confident he could do the same thing again, Tamaranis turned his attention to the Hostel. It was still under siege by legions of the dead, and a fair number of The Pen’s membership were still inside.

 

Normally he’d respond to this sort situation with some heavy handed de-animating spells to disable the more dangerous undead, followed by a few hundred competent soldiers to cut up the remaining fodder. Unfortunately he hadn’t recovered nearly enough mana in the final moments of his battle with the demon to overcome a dozen or so liches in magical combat simultaneously, and his small but loyal body of troops were a day’s march away.

 

The same lack of mana that ruled out the option of raining destruction on the undead from the sky also introduced difficulties into the somewhat less savoury option of animating his own undead horde to repel the one attacking the Hostel. The complete lack of viable corpses was another barrier to that tactic.

 

Revealing the destructive abilities of the dragoons to any enemy necromancer this early in the game would remove an advantage that Tamaranis wanted to keep for now, and the few of them he had to command couldn’t be guaranteed to succeed unsupported against so many undead anyway.

 

Instead he travelled on foot towards the hostel, so as not to attract the attention of their spell casters, intending to destroy any zombies or ghouls he encountered in physical combat and save his mana for when a lich or magically inclined vampire inevitably got in his way.

 

But the opportunity to raise his blade against the swarm of undead never came. Before he reached them Tamaranis’ attention was drawn to the sound, rather than the sight, of a blinding and hateful light. The other undead ceased their attempts to gain the roof or destroy Ozymandias in order to gaze, unmoving, at the source of the sound. Those that were capable raised their voices in cries of alarm, the majority that were not emitted soft moans or rattles of terror.

 

Tamaranis began drawing darkness to himself to such an extent as to obscure his exact location from the universe. Those undead present that possessed some semblance of free will turned to flee, but were hindered by their unmoving and mindless counterparts.

 

The darkness became complete, such that detection of whether Tamaranis was on the battlefield near Custos Manor or was in the tomb at the base of the obsidian spire became impossible. Then the final, all destroying Word swept out from the hostel.

 

Those undead who heard The Word were faced with the impossibility of their own existence, knew of nothing but the impossibility of their own existence, and ceased to be. The Word hesitated briefly as it met walls of silence hastily erected by liches, but it forbid the existence of such things, unravelled the magic, and continued on, filling the minds of the liches themselves. It washed over the darkness Tamaranis had conjured, overcame the lack of definition, and replaced the all-obscuring darkness with the natural darkness of the night, revealing nothing more than grass and a low shrub.

 

***

 

Rather than slowly defining his new location, as was the normal course with Tamaranis’ mode of magical travel, he was abruptly slammed into being within the obsidian spire, his alternate location having been instantly ruled out as impossible by the holy word.

 

The Word, almost acknowledged, danced just out of reach in Tamaranis’ mind, promising an infinite wisdom and understanding that was very tempting, despite the knowledge that part of that wisdom fundamentally forbid his own existence.

 

Tamaranis refused to know it. He spent hours forcing his mind away from what he had nearly heard, removing it from his thoughts, only allowing himself to think on the tinniest portion of a syllable at any given time to ensure he wouldn’t suddenly extrapolate what the entire word must have been.

 

By the time Tamaranis had recovered from hearing a part of The Word, it was dawn. He wouldn’t meet with the others at the Hostel, it wouldn’t be necessary. He’d dealt with the demon, and the holy word would have ensured the destruction of the undead. Instead he would spend the day here, at the centre of an artificial mana nexus, recovering his energies and sleeping the sleep of an archmage.

 

If nightmares should come, during the day no less, then let them come.

Edited April 6, 2004 by Tamaranis

[Salinye]

It’s so lovely….the feeling….reaching for something that has meaning. Something so beautiful….so pure….perfect. Salinye’s arm involuntarily rose as her mind and emotions extended themselves to new heights in an attempt to attain the wholly unattainable. Just as it seemed she may be able to comprehend the light-the word and bask in its beauty it was gone. Like wisps of smoke floating away from a wick that was just moments before alight with fire it dissipated into nothingness-Meaningless. Nothing more than unkept promises to taunt her soul. The void left by the absence of the music, the singing, the all-encompassing light was suddenly filled with the darkness of the night’s events. Like waves crashing upon a rocky ocean ledge the memories returned to her making the ache for the lost light more painful. Rather than cringe and the mental lashings the mage did the only thing that seemed logical. She laughed with the glee of a careless child.

 

-------

 

All heads turned to look at the mage as she sat on her haunches, soaked with the sweat of exhaustion, dirty and- laughing. The looks directed towards her ranged from horror to concern to downright confusion. Wrapping her arms tightly around her legs she pulled her knees up to her chest and threw her head back howling with laughter. Most everyone was either slumped to the ground exhausted or nursing wounds. Gyrfalcon knelt beside Yui attempting to keep her comfortable. It was Merelas who first broke free from his surprise and slowly rose to approach her.

 

He crouched before her, his eyes laced with concern. She only continued to laugh seemingly oblivious to his presence. “Lady Salinye”? He asked placing a hand gently on her shoulder. The mage jerked her head to look straight at him. Her laughter ceasing the instant his hand touched her shoulder. For a few seconds of dead silence she only stared at him, or more truthfully, through him. Finally, in a quick, unexpected movement, she raised her fist and punched the fire elf squarely in the face while screaming at him in the tongue of the drow.

 

“YOU WILL NOT MAKE ME FORGET WHO I AM! YOU WILL NOT WIN AND I WILL TEACH YOU THE TRUE MEANING OF PAIN IF YOU EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!”

 

Merelas fell backwards onto his back his hands covering his now bleeding nose. He wasn’t sure which hurt more, the blow to his face or the blow to his pride. Within moment the brief scuffle was over as the offending wizardess found herself pinned to the ground for the second time of the night, this time by the intimidating hybrid form of Daryl. Her threats quickly turned to sobs until the blanket of unconsciousness finally enfolded her.

 

-------------------

Elsewhere....

 

Triel’s eyes widened, his demonic chant cut short as the powerful impact of the Holy Word momentarily impacted his very soul. He watched in the scrying mirror as images of his undead hordes turned in vain attempts to flee before scattering to dust in the wave of righteous power. The mirror cracked in a spider web pattern, a plume of foul smelling dust rising from it as it did.

 

The drow scowled throwing the mirror across the room shattering it against the stone wall. The creature at his feet rippled its grotesque skin in pleasurable anticipation. Triel tapped two fingers against his pursed lips in contemplation. Smiling sadistically he called for a servant. “I love it when they try to fight back.”

Edited June 20, 2004 by Salinye

[Merelas]

Merelas had been fighting, dealing out wounds from both flame and blade when the unthinkable happened.

 

Time stopped. Just as quickly, he stopped to listen to the incomprehensible beauty that was the song--he never knew something so beautiful and so full of light and holiness could come from such a mage. He watched, listened, basked... and then it was broken.

 

So, apparently, was the onslaught of undead that had come against the hostel in such ferocity.

 

And then another thing shook him from his reverie--his host, the one who had taken him in, was laughing. It was a nearly insane, maniacal laughter that drove him deep inside himself. How could she laugh? And what was she laughing at? Was she possessed?

 

He owed her much. Not noticing the looks from those around him, he swiftly sheathed Brillemire at his back and strode over to her... he knelt next to her, and still she did not see him. He looked at her, still unbelieving that she could find something so dismal to be comical. She shook with mirth, and her eyes were wildly gleaming. And though he had no magic, he could tell that there was something... wrong... about her.

 

Merelas placed a ginger hand on her shoulder... "Lady Salinye?" he asked tenderly, questioningly.

 

And he was quickly rebuked. She snarled at him, threw him back with a strength he would not have guessed she possessed. She punched him then, and he staggered backwards yet again. He felt his nose, partially in shock and partially to assess the damage she had done. His hand came away bloody--and she began to shriek.

 

"...WILL NOT...... TRUE........ PAIN.....!"

 

Merelas caught a few words. The tongue was a small bit like his own native language, but most of it was lost to him as gibberish. He was relieved when Daryl tackled her, and stopped the terrible shrieking and madness.

 

"What's going on??" the fire-elf asked, standing again, and wiping his nose on his sleeve. Concern crossed his face for the woman, tinted with a tiny bit of anger. If he believed her to be truly well, then he would have been furious... but it was obvious that she was either out of her mind, or heading there shortly. He looked around to the others, and waited for an explanation.

[Ayshela]

Ayshela continued scanning the rooftop, even while dispatching yet another zombie. There had to be *some* way to stem the tide, because they were all in danger of running out of strength... Grabbing the next zombie to come within reach she spun quickly and hurled him toward the edge of the roof, knocking a couple more over the edge, yet knowing that it was but a momentary slowdown - they'd be back. Whatever the plan was - and her head jerked back toward Yui at hearing a rising hum. Her eyes widened as she saw the motions of Yui's hands, then her attention was snapped back to the business at *her* hands and all focus returned to battle. The deepest, most hidden facets of her shrieked that she was going to die, and this was NOT what she'd bargained on! Then, with a sudden feral grin she swung back into full battle mode knowing that whatever happened, if she died now it would be in defense of those here, and what better way to go?

 

She worked her way back over toward Daryl, knowing that the two of them together stood a better chance of blocking access to Yui and Salinye and the others. Besides, she'd hate to see anything happen to Daryl, and the urge to keep him within her scan range would not be denied. They effectively kept their section of the roof as clear as possible, while Jirah dispatched his full quota of undead elsewhere and Merelas put his efforts toward protecting the circle as well. Suddenly, Ayshela felt as if someone called her, and felt a strong draw of strength which she only barely managed to not interfere with, knowing it HAD to be Yui. As she poised herself to attack again, she was stunned by a blast of.. sound? music? power, certainly, roaring through her on its way to - where? She couldn't say, she couldn't hear, there was nothing beyond the recognition of what it was and the deepest screams of inarguable belief and utter despair battering against her skull seeking a way out... and then it was gone.

 

Ayshela stood for a second or two, blinking in confusion, before falling to hands and knees. She shook her head briefly, as if somehow things would shake into a recognizable pattern, then sat back on her heels to look around her. Seeing nothing but her companions, all else blasted into non-existence, she laughed semi-hysterically for a half a moment before choking it off. She stood and looked around again, noting the exhaustion of nearly everyone on the roof, and Ozymandias still down on the grounds. Meeting Jirah's eyes she nodded her head toward the others and asked "you helping them down from here?" At his affirmative nod she smiled and leaped back toward the rope to go help Ozymandias back into the hostel... her heart suddenly singing "they were wrong, they were wrong, you still stand -" She stopped halfway down the rope hearing Salinye's laughter and shrieks and debated going back up, but decided against it. There were enough people there to deal with whatever was going on, while there was still one alone on the grounds, so her course was clear. She continued down the rope.

[Gyrfalcon]

Daryl growled as he slapped back another tottering zombie, conscious of the closing ring around the magic users. Launching a skeleton’s skull flying with a roundhouse punch, the werefox noticed to his amazement that many of the undead turned away, and the rest looked confused, hesitating. The effect quickly passed, and a pair of ghouls hurled themselves at Daryl, hungry for his warm blood.

 

Behind Daryl, a single pure voice rose into majestic song, and he paused in the act of grappling with the ghouls, amazed by the beauty and purity of Yui-chan’s voice and her song. The ghouls had stopped as well, but while they listened in rapt attention as did the werefox, they moaned in pain and seemed to struggle to turn away.

 

The song rose to empyrean reaches as voice after ghostly voice joined with Yui-chan, building a complex harmony that hinted to Daryl of a greater truth, one that the song guided him too as it grew. With a start, he marveled at the simple subtleness, feeling close to the gods for one of the few times in his life. And threaded throughout the song was a word- no, not just any word, but a Word, the embodiment of this truth. But it teased just at the edges of his consciousness, and as the song ended, it faded, taking with it the truth he yearned towards.

 

Daryl blinked as he came back to himself, sifting ash draining from between his fingers, and no sign of the undead. Daryl snuffled and wiped his eyes with a forearm, regretting the loss of his understanding. He sighed and slumped wearily, drained by his exertions. Then his ears perked up, drawn by an almost mad laughter behind him. He turned to see the flaxen-haired wizardess huddle with her arms around her legs, laughing with abandon.

 

The fire elf, Merelas, approached her to rest his hand on her shoulder. “Lady Salinye?” he asked in question. Her laughter cut off abruptly, and she stared at him sightlessly. Without any warning, she punched him hard in the face, screaming at him in a tongue Daryl didn’t know. He scrambled to his feet and bounded towards the two as she stood over him, screaming in fury and raising her arm to punch at him again.

 

With little finesse, Daryl tackled Salinye, bearing her to the ground beneath him. She screamed in rage and struggled, punching, kicking, and clawing. But as suddenly as she had hit Merelas, she began to sob, clutching at Daryl’s shirt as she pressed her face against his shoulder. After a few minutes, her sobs stilled as she fell unconscious.

 

“What’s going on?” Merelas asked, standing again and touching his swollen and bloody nose gingerly.

 

“Anyone know what that was about?” Daryl asked in confusion, looking from an exhausted Gyrfalcon, resting Yui-chan’s head on his thigh, to Merelas, who had just asked the same question.

 

Gyrfalcon sighed wearily and gently lifted Yui-chan. “I don’t know, you two, I really don’t. Let’s get down off the roof and get her to the druid down there, he may be able to help her... and I think the rest of us need rest.”

 

Daryl nodded his agreement and gently picked up Salinye, looking around to Jirah standing by the ropes leading back down. Working between them, they quickly fashioned a sort of sling to carefully lower their unconscious companions to the garden below, where Ayshela was helping a sick-looking Ozymandias. Once everyone was on the ground, Daryl looked around at the scattered weapons and the layer of ash covering everything, and the damaged exterior of the Hostel.

 

“I hope Salinye doesn’t make us clean up after ourselves.” he remarked.

[Salinye]

“NO! No one comes in or goes out without going through me!” Insisted a stubborn, gruff voice.

 

“I was just thinking you could get some rest, and I could hold your post for a while.” Pled a softer and kinder voice.

 

“As long as Salinye is in this room, than I shall remain in THIS chair! Anyone who thinks to change that will have to physically move me!”

 

These were the sounds that made their way through the groggy fog that filled Salinye’s head. Slowly she opened her eyes, quickly shutting them again against the noonday light.

 

“I really don’t think I need a chaperone to bring my friend lunch!” The female voice got a bit more intense.

 

“I told you, no one goes in or out without going through ME. Either accept that, or give me the tray and I’ll take her lunch.”

 

Salinye opened her eyes a bit slower this time, allowing them to adjust to the pristine whiteness that seemed to be all around her. The mage pondered the situation momentarily confused as to where she was until the memories of the battle, three nights earlier, came back to her. She sat up with a jolt. The room she was in housed many beds, five on each side. She was able to stifle a bit of the panic rising up within her as she recognized the room she was in as the hostel’s infirmary.

 

The door at the far end of the room opened up, the argument making its way into the infirmary. “I swear, you are the grumpiest, grouchiest, stubborn, and yet loyal druid I have ever met.” Ayshela conceded, walking into the room.

 

“Aye, M’lady. They don’t make us like they used to.” He replied with a wink.

 

Their good-natured discussion cut short as they both noticed Salinye sitting upright in her bed staring at them. “SALINYE!” Ayshela shouted, nearly dropping the lunch in her rush to get to her friend. Setting the tray of food on the bedside table, she threw her arms around the mage in a hug.

 

Salinye smiled. She knew she could trust Ayshela. “Hello, Ayshela.” Surprised by the scratchy hoarse sound of her voice, she placed a hand to her throat looking to the druid.

 

“Oh, don’t worry, M’dear, ‘tis only temporary. Happens when you sleep for three days straight.

 

“Three days!” Salinye croaked in surprise. Tossing the covers aside, she jumped out of bed and barely caught her balance by grabbing the windowsill next to her bed. “Whoa.”

 

“Yes, lady. You’ll be a wee bit wobbly for a day or so. It’s nothing to worry about, completely normal. I’m sure before long you’ll be bossing us all around, once again.”

 

She shot the druid a dirty look. It was well known that Salinye’s authority was respected among the hostel staff and guests. She had no need to boss anyone around, however, the druid liked to get her blood boiling now and then. Looking out the window, she saw piles of grayish black ash. Hired people that she didn’t know were collecting it in wheelbarrows and hauling it away to, she could only assume, be disposed of. “Who hired these people?”

 

Ayshela looked out the window to see whom the mage was talking about. “Oh, that’s the cleanup crew Gyrfalcon hired. He figured you would want the Hostel rid of this….mess as soon as possible.”

 

“I see. That makes sense.” Salinye croaked turning to make her way towards the door. The old druid immediately rushed to her side taking an arm. “I do not need help walking.” She snapped, causing him to look to the side a bit wounded.

 

Pausing she turned to face him placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’ve been so good to me. I don’t know what I would do without your help.” With that she hugged him. A hot blush rose to color the man’s face.

 

“Just doing my job, M’lady.”

 

“Yes, and you do it well.” Smiling she reached the door hearing Ayshela’s soft steps following her.

 

“Lady Salinye, are you sure you want to go…..out there?” She finished the last two words as Salinye stepped into the hallway. They walked through the hostel as Salinye examined the damage to her beloved estate. Ayshela thought the wizardess was relatively silent in response to all the damage to her hostel. Granted, the majority of it was not structural, however, much of the furniture and decorative architecture had been ruined.

 

As they walked down the west hall, she could hear muffled voices. She stopped at the closed door and almost knocked before she remembered it IS her office. “Salinye, before you open that door….” Ayshela started, the wizardess opening the door without giving heed to her friend’s advice which was finished beneath her breath. “…you might want to change your clothes.”

 

Salinye hadn’t thought to look at what she was wearing, yet. Turns out she had been dressed in a favorite old oversized sleeping T-shirt. That combined with her “three days bed head” made her a stark contrast to those gathered around several large maps and files from her filing cabinet. They all looked up in mild surprise to see her standing there.

 

“Salinye! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” Annael asked with a sincere smile.

 

“I’m alright.” She half whispered, her voice still hoarse. “What are you doing?”

 

“Well, Salinye." Gyrfalcon looked up from where he was bent over her desk examining a map. "First of all, I’m glad to see you up and around. You had us all worried. We’ve been going over your files on the drow and some of my maps of the area. I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of getting them from your filing cabinet.”

 

“No, it’s alright. The private stuff is not findable. Where are the others?” She asked still hovering in the doorway.

 

“The ones that aren’t staying here are in contact or visit every day.”

 

“I see….and…what are you doing?” She asked again.

 

“We’ve been trying to determine where the attack came from and why. We also want to ensure that there isn’t another attack on its way, as well as try to prevent it from happening again. Once we put all the pieces of the puzzle together, we can plan our next move.”

 

“I see.” Salinye remained in her place letting everything sink in trying to decide how much information to give them. Pretty easy to know what the enemy’s moves are, if you’re playing for his team. She thought still unsure of who to trust.

 

“I’ll be glad to join you, after I’ve had a shower.” With that she turned leaving them all in her office. Once she got to her quarters she closed and locked the door behind her. (The druid insisted on setting up guard outside her door.) Her room looked just as she left it, aside from a letter sitting on her bedside table.

Edited June 28, 2004 by Salinye

[Merelas]

:The view is amazing...:

 

:There is beauty in nature, Merelas. The natural flow of things without disruptions from things like what happened last night is beautiful... that is why it must be protected,: Chrissiannia said to his mind.

 

He blinked. It was times like this when Kushel or Chrissiannia shared some unexpected bit of wisdom, philosophy, or truth that he was most humbled. He scouted around from his vantage point at one of the tallest trees in the forest. The sun was descending from it's position high in the sky, and a little pink and orange were starting to fringe the summer blue sky. This was the cue for Merelas to descend from the tree and return to the hostel. Taking one last glance at the sky, the forest, and the view from the treetop, he quickly shimmied down the drunk, darting from branch to branch quickly with elven grace.

 

Once he was firmly on the ground again, he took up his cloak which he had left on the ground at the base of the tree, since it would hinder his climbing. He swept back to the castle at a light jog, and eventually came to the foyer of it.

 

As he entered, the old druid came bustling up to him. "Sir, you wanted to know when Lady Salinye was able to entertain visitors again? Well she's ready," he said, and Merelas nodded in response.

 

He made a quick trip to his chambers, and changed out of his patrol clothes and into something more suitable. His leather trousers and regular tunic were exchanged for similar items, but these were dark blue. He ran a comb through his hair quickly, making himself somewhat more presentable before moving to the door in order to go and speak to Salinye.

 

He found his way to her office after a few trips that ended up getting him lost, and he knocked on the door. A voice from within told him to enter, and he did so. Striding in, he saw the Lady of the Hostel sitting at her desk, looking at a map.

 

He bowed. “Lady Salinye, I am Merelas en’Bella, and I had to come and express my gratitude to you. Your actions probably saved my life.”

 

Salinye blushed slightly, and said, “It was nothing. Only what any decent person would have done.”

 

Merelas rose out of his bow, and looked at her. She truly was beautiful—a simple gown that looked a thousand times more elegant when she wore it, immaculate hair (except for one stubborn lock), and a beautiful, honest face.

 

She glanced at him, apparently sizing him up. “So… was there anything else then?” she asked somewhat shortly…

 

She doesn’t trust me, he thought slowly, before finding his voice.

“Yes,” he said, pulling his shoulder-length hair out of his face. “I wanted to offer my services… if I could assist you in any way… it’s the least I could do,” he said choppily—the realization that she did not yet trust him had bothered him somewhat. He had originally been intending to ask her what she had said to him on the rooftop, but that thought was long gone now.

 

She turned from him then, and paced the room a bit. After a few moments, she nodded. “If you could… I would like you to gather everyone for a meeting about what’s happened, and what we do from here. Say… tomorrow morning.”

 

She looked at him hopefully, and Merelas nodded immediately, then bowed. “At once, my Lady,” and he bowed himself out.

 

Well… that wasn’t quite what he had hoped for. She seemed cold towards him, although he couldn’t for the life of him think why. He had fought the onslaught just as the rest of them had.

 

But he had work to do. Sighting around for any of the party that had fought against the undead, he quickly went about informing them all that they were supposed to meet in Salinye’s office the next morning.

 

OOC: Many, *many* apologies for the delay! I was writing the post in word in case my internet died, and then I got disconnected and wasn't able to put it up even though I had marked my place. I'm sorry to all who read it and found the place-holder!

Edited July 2, 2004 by Merelas

[Alaeha]

Jirah nodded to the elven looking man... Merelas, he thought... as he closed the door behind him.

 

"The Lady would like everyone to meet her in her office tomorrow morning." The man told him.

 

"I suspected she might." Jirah replied. He had known she would. It was hard not to hear most people through doors, at the volumes they spoke at. "And she wants you to gather them all, I'd wager."

 

Merelas confirmed his statement with a nod. The thief thought for a moment.

 

"Well," Jirah said, "I couldn't tell you where most of them are, but I'm certain the ranger -- Gyrfalcon? -- is near here." He suppressed a frown. It had taken his best efforts to get this close to the lady without the ranger's knowledge.

 

As Jirah drifted off into thought, Merelas left to inform whoever else he could find of the meeting the next day.

 

The ranger didn't trust him, that much was clear. None of them did, it seemed. It made sense that they would distrust an outsider after the recent events, (and, he admitted to himself, he had come to steal from the Hostel,) but it made things remarkably inconvenient.

 

How was she supposed to be safe when she was surrounded by "wizards" who hadn't even known of the existence of the zombies until they were under siege?

[Annael]

Annael stared up at the moon, one lone butterfly hovering over her head. She gave a slight shiver as a cool wind blew by, but she noted that it seemed only to touch her.

 

"You feel it too, don't you? Something isn't quite right around here." Anyone standing nearby and hearing the fallen angel speak, would've thought that she was speaking to herself. It was doubtful that even the keen eyes of a ranger would've picked up the dark figure perched in the branches above her.

 

"But then you're here, so you know something isn't right. So what are we going to do?" The figure above her reached down to lightly touch her hair, his hand lightly playing with a curl.

 

"Easy for you to say...." Stopping, Annael looked out into the woods. "Gyrfalcon is coming. I think that you should," sighing, she knew that she didn't have to finish her thought, he was already gone.

 

Hugging herself, Annael quietly left the shelter of the tree, a black feather laying at the base, the only testament that she was there.

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon moved restlessly through the night, his mind preoccupied with the tasks he had laid on himself in the wake of the attack on the Hostel. In addition to ordering up work crews to clean up the piles of ashes that had been left behind by the destroyed undead, he had also been seeing the security of the Hostel itself. While others had been acting as scouts in the surrounding woodlands, Gyrfalcon had been sending out messages and gathering together anyone he could get his hands on. Already, a number of druids and rangers had responded that they would come as quickly as possible, and he had secured the services of a small company of mercenaries that specialized in the hunting of undead.

 

With a sigh, Gyrfalcon grumbled to himself, glad that he wouldn’t have to pay the druids and rangers too much, at least. Undead were an abomination against nature, and the destruction of undead creatures was a primary commandment of any god or goddess dealing with nature. He paused and made a mental note to tell them to leave Tamaranis alone. Destroying skeletons and zombies was one thing. Offending a vampire who also happened to be an Archmage was sheer suicide, and he was sure most of them would see it that way and leave Tamaranis alone. For the rest, deep forest patrols would keep them safely out of the way, but it was just one more thing to take care of.

 

The half-elf sighed, hoping that their hostess wouldn’t take it askance for not being consulted about the stationing of troops at the Hostel. She’d understand why, he hoped. And if not... well, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about that. At least she had finally awakened. Yui-chan and the others had started becoming worried after the second day. Gyrfalcon was already worried, so that had just added to the weight.

 

“Who goes there?” a voice said sharply, and Gyrfalcon looked up from his dark thoughts to see the old druid, Ardavial, raising his staff and peering at the half-elf in the gloom. “It’s only me, old one.” he said, smiling slightly. The druid was abrasive on the outside, but Gyrfalcon knew that covered a great heart.

 

“Old one? Don’t you ‘old one’ me, you whippersnapper, I could still beat you over the head with my staff as well as anyone!” the druid said, chuckling, before changing the subject. “You need more sleep half-elf, and don’t tell me to mind my own business, I can see those circles under your eyes.”

 

“I’ll get some rest later, I promise.” Gyrfalcon said, knowing that tomorrow would likely be as busy as the past week, if not more so.

 

“Bah! I’ll just have to pick you up when you fall over from too little sleep.” Ardavial snorted before stumping past the half-elf. “Well, it’s your body and your health that you’ll be ruining!”

 

Gyrfalcon smiled at the druid’s back and shook his head before continuing down the path. He might have time for a nap tomorrow... that would help.

 

He looked up suddenly to see Annael emerging from under a tree. “Hello Annael.” he said, not surprised to see the fallen angel out at night. “How has your evening been?”

 

Annael shrugged her shoulders, her wings ruffling and a feather falling away. “Alright I suppose, though it can get boring at night, with everyone asleep.”

 

The half-elf grinned. “A good time to catch up on your reading then.” he said, trying to suppress a yawn.

 

Annael smiled in response. “I suppose so. I think I’ll wander down to the library.” Gyrfalcon bowed his head in response. “I think I’ll go add to the sleepers – it’s been a long day, and dawn comes faster then I might wish.”

 

Annael smiled faintly again. “Sleep well, Gyrfalcon. I hope you don’t mind if I steal Daryl to cuddle up with while I read?”

 

Gyrfalcon grinned. “Nah, I’m sure he’ll enjoy it. He can sleep nearly anywhere.”

 

Annael giggled. "That's true enough, I've seen him draped across two branches and snoozing away."

 

The two parted, Annael to collect Daryl and a book, and Gyrfalcon to reacquaint himself with a pillow.

 

-----

OOC: Thank you for waiting patiently. I hope you enjoy this piece.

[Annael]

Annael watched Gyr leave, and sighed.

 

"To be able to sleep, what a glorious ability...I hope the library has an interesting book for me to read." She made her way into the keep, almost tripping over a sleeping Daryl who was curled up just inside the doorway.

 

"Ah, you do make it easy for me, don't you?" She leaned down and picked up the sleeping fox, carefully cradling him in her arms. Daryl gave a little murmur and cuddled closer to her. Giving a little smile at the sleeping pile of fur, Annael made her way to the library.

 

Nodding to a butterfly to get her a book, Annael settled into a chair, scratching Daryl behind the ears as she waited. Blinking her eyes, she rested her head back and wondered at being so tired so suddenly, then was soon asleep. The butterfly drifted over to the sleeping angel and hesitated before resting the book on the side table. Hovering above Annael's head, the butterfly waivered a bit before slowly coming to rest on Daryl's nose. Soon, the butterfly itself was asleep.

 

The figure in the shadow's smiled as it slowly emerged and walked over to the sleeping trio. Removing his cape, he draped it lightly across Annael, Daryl and the butterfly, making sure that there was an opening for Daryl to breathe, and the butterfly to flutter its wings while it dreamt.

 

"Sleep, my angel, things are going to get hectic soon," and taking up the book that the butterfly had brought to Annael, sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the chair and started to read, making sure that Annael wouldn't be disturbed while she got some rest.

Edited July 12, 2004 by Annael

[Salinye]

Salinye found herself back in the conference room that she had called people to several days before. Was it only several days? It seemed so much longer to the mage. Time had a way of extending itself through one’s memories. Events that take place within hours can take up virtual miles of thought, every action packed second stored in it’s own respected place. She ran an absent-minded finger over the spines of the books upon the shelving, each book claiming expertise on this society or that race. Knowledge collected from some other scholar, warrior or self-proclaimed adventurer. How could we really claim to know a group of people unless we had lived among them? Until you’ve submersed yourself in their culture, studied their histories and heard tales of their future aspirations, how could you really claim to know them? Furthermore, was it really any different with individuals? She didn’t think so.

 

This brings us back to the issue of time. People make judgments. Sure, the moral person tries not to judge without careful consideration, taking the time to weigh all the facts. However, we sometimes find ourselves in a position without time, yet still with the need to make decisions, judgments. Sometimes the results of these half educated decisions cost a person nothing more than extra explanation, or of lost time, itself. However, ask any military leader and he’ll tell you the results of these decisions can be life and death. He’ll also tell you that he stands by those decisions regardless of the outcome because after all, a decision had to be made, and somebody had to make it.

 

Salinye wasn’t vain enough to compare herself with any great warrior or leader. However, she did feel she was at a crossroads. Something was happening. She was suddenly finding herself surrounded by people, friend and foe. She didn’t truly know any of them well enough to make any sort of educated judgments about them. True, they had fought side by side, but self-preservation is a strong instinct. It tends to override most other emotions when a matter of life or death arises.

 

On one hand, up until a few days ago, she had been finding herself rather drawn to The Pen. Thoughts that it might just be the type of community and home-away-from-hostel she had been searching for. On the other hand, some of the members there presented themselves as shady at best. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue for Salinye. Many people frequented her hostel, and not all seemed forthright about their business or travels, but that didn’t matter. All were welcome at Custos Manor just as long as they didn’t give her a reason to think otherwise. She expected no less from Pen Castle. However, now that she was seemingly under attack, the character of people surrounding her now became of grave importance.

 

She already knew that Gyrfalcon was more than he let on and this most recent letter from her “anonymous informant” seemed to paint a less than stellar picture of the Loremaster and founder, Ozymandias. She wasn’t sure of his history, but this new letter did inform her that he specialized in phantasm magic. She knew that Ozy came from the group of people that called themselves “archmages”. She was very unfamiliar with them and wasn’t entirely sure she believed the story of their pasts. She was skeptical of a group of people that claimed to be constantly killed, sent to a hell and reborn. It didn’t go along with the mythological or spiritual teachings that any of her people had studied. However, according to the letter, phantasm magics can often include mental attacks/manipulations.

 

Just as she wasn’t sure of the people around her, she also wasn’t sure about this unknown pen pal she had acquired. However, she was careful to look at all sides of the situation. With the new information about Ozy, her “informant” for lack of a better word, also told her of some whisperings he/she had heard around The Pen. Several times her name came up in less than pleasant conversation. Murmurings of unleashing undead and hordes to do the work for them , had been mentioned.

 

She looked at the letter reading the last few lines again.

 

As always, my lady, Salinye, my information could be wrong. However, if there is even a chance that it is accurate, then I feel it is worth mentioning it to you. I hope this letter finds you well. Just to be on the safe side, I have included this protection from undead potion. It is not the most powerful potion you have found, as I am still a learning mage. I hope it is not needed, however, if it is, I hope it finds you well and is of use.

 

Tucking the note back into seemingly nowhere, she sighed sitting down in one of the high back chairs. Running her hands over her face wearily. She still hadn’t regained her energy and the mental stress was weighing on her, and she was only barely able to conceal it from the others. Interlacing her fingers, she placed her hands upon the table and waited to see if Merelas had passed on her request for a meeting, and who would attend.

Edited July 26, 2004 by Salinye