Ambrosia Software Web Board: The Alraeican Tavern - part VI - Ambrosia Software Web Board

They arrived in Cademia by mid afternoon, earlier then expected. Dusk would never forget his first impressions of the mother city. The smell of damp wood burning wafted out. From within the broken, delapacated walls sounds drifted with the breeze. A hammer striking anvil, cries of laughter and anger. Shop keepers competed noisly with the cluck of fowl and bark of dog. The occasional thud of arrows and clank of chains punctuated the general wail. Buskers provided completly out of place and off tune music, merely adding to the rabble instead of calming it. The smell was over powering, you must get used to it though, or none would live in Cademia. It was a musty, dusty dirty smell that filled the nostrils.
Beggars lined the walls at the entrance, each holding out cupped hands, ever vigilant for anyone that jingled when they walked.
The main square was packed, shops on every side and a fountain in the middle. Trees with worn trunks and broken branches also filled the busy heart of the city. Heart at day time, at night the Tavern undoubtly took priority.
Dusk and Rogan didn't have to push and shove, they were instead almost supplied with a passage. Some bowed to Rogan, while the rest of the populance stared quisically at the strangely clothed man.
A orange and white spotted cat brushed past Dusks legs, bringing the most painfull memories yet.

"Poor little thing" Dusk picked up the cat, its oragne and white fur stuck together with old scabs and mud. She was missing an ear and her half tail terminated with taunt skin stretched over a blackened bone. She purred loudly, and started to drool through her cut lips. Dusk gave her a gentle scratch under the chin, clumps of hair fell out at his touch and mixed mindlessly with the mud at his feet.
"Bloody thing, half starved little bugger. Gimme that pack there" The red haired kid shook his head
"**** you sir, that's my food!" Dusk snatched the small ration pack from him and tore it open, offering the self heating contents to the cat. He could've sworn the cat purred louder then his gun. It wolfed down the food in no time, licking the sides clean. The kid didn't complain, he just stared at the war torn animal with curiosity. Dusk made a small hole in the side of the trench with the butt of his rifle and sat down, the cat on his lap. It continued to drool and pur as it kneaded the soldiers legs with her three paws and a stump.
"Now the kit" The kid with the enourmus coat passed him a sterlising/first aid kit and joined Dusk in the side of the trench. Dusk unwrapped the miniscule kit and ripped open a sterile swab. He dabbed and tended over the bed bedraggled cat for the next few hours. The cat was loooking in a much better state at the end of the medical attention, her fur stood up proud and defiantly; as clean as the two men could get it. Her wounds were all bandaged and the kid had fashioned a make shift eye patch for the animal, protecting the empty eye socket from the plague flies. This gave the cat a very pirate like look, making both men laugh.
"We gotta get a name for her"
"I think Revs" The kid smiled and fondled her remaining ear. Revs drooled and purred uncontrollably, enjoying the attention she was getting. Dusks eyes brimmed with tears at the sight of the poor cat so happy with what little they did.
"I think I'll keep her, we can take turns in feeding her" The kid nodded, already understanding the love between Dusk and Revs, knowing that questioning it would bring nothing but pain.

"Dusk? You started sobbing back there, are you ok?" Rogan looked worriedly down at Dusk.
"I'm... I... Just remembered something, my cat..." Dusk stopped, fearing another onslaught of tears. Rogan helped Dusk up from where he lay "You should get some sleep, some on, we'll get a room at the Tavern"

[ooc] Feel free to use Revs in any flash backs, but please don't kill her. I'm hoping to start a TS soon, and I'd like Revs intact. Thanks [bic]

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Bullets and bombs are my professions, death and pain are my confessions.

[This message has been edited by dusk (edited 10-13-2002).]

Brianna, standing in the main corridor of Land King Hall, stared about in confusion. "How'd I get here?" she asked Sasha, who was leaning against a wall, watching with an expression of amusement. "One minute I was waiting on tables in the tavern, and the next thing I knew, I was here, with that Dusk fellow bidding me goodbye."

"Don't worry, it happens in Cythera all the time. Besides, I'd appreciate the company on the trip back. Shall we go?"

Brianna nodded, and the two friends departed for Cademia.

***OoC***
BTW, Dusk, the plural of 'Obol' is 'Oboloi'
***BiC***

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I will classify my lieutenants in three categories: untrusted, trusted, and completely trusted. Promotion to the third category will be awarded posthumously.

I enterd the taven with my hood down then i saw ferzle sitting in the courner i walked up to him my sword unshethed and said,"How dare you acuses me!"And with that i cut his arm and said that he had a seven day intill the posein killed him,
Then all the other people started moving towards me swords unshethed, and i touched my braclet and mutterd a few words then i dissaperd.

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were ever i go death will
come with me

[This message has been edited by Pippin 3 (edited 10-15-2002).]

"Accuse me of what? All I wanted to do was compete in a spelling tournament!" Ferazel said, nimbly dodging Pippin's sword sweep. He casted Major Embrightenment right in her face and she was temporarily blinded. With another spell, six Ferazels walked into the tavern. The original casted Paralyze and Pippin was frozen. The other six Ferazels preformed different tasks. Two asked Talos for buckets of ale while a third started a fire outside. The other three were getting long planks. One bucket of ale was dumped on the fire, which now had some wood to burn. It started to burn even higher. Two Ferazels were tying Pippin to a large wooden plank. Pippin came out of the Paralyze and drew her sword, cutting a slash on a Ferazel. It vanished with a puff of blue smoke and the other Ferazel quickly casted Paralyze again and took Pippin's sword. A replacement Ferazel walked in and the two Ferazels who had been tying Pippin to the plank now carried her outside to the fire. Using other planks as supports, the large plank was dug deep into the roaring fire. Out of the four idle Ferazels, two had just vanished and the other two had seemingly vanished; they were nowhere in sight. More wood was piled up until it came up to Pippin's feet. Right as the other bucket of ale was dumped on her head to drip down to cover her, she wasn't Paralyzed any more. ''let me go or iil posin yu wth my sword'' pipin retliatd. "Save that for Satan." Ferazel smirked. Pippin tried to get free but she was tightly and magically bound to the plank. Several drunks wandered out to watch. "If you can hit Pippin with a bucket of ale, I'll buy you two buckets!" Ferazel shouted to them. Wanting alchohol, they ran to get buckets of ale for throwing. One of the two missing Ferazels returned, carrying a bucket of black liquid. "Tar." he grunted, carrying it to Pippin. One Ferazel hoisted him up so he could dump the sticky liquid onto Pippin. The flames were now licking at Pippin's ankles. A drunk threw a bucket of ale. The ale hit both the fire and Pippin's legs. The bucket bounced off Pippin's head and landed in the dirt. The fire now was burning Pippin's legs and she was screaming in pain. The smell of burning flesh carried even to the merchants who immediatly stopped selling their goods. Pippin couldn't scream any more now as the sticky black tar had dribbled down to her waist and it had hardened near her mouth. The other Ferazel was walking up now, with a crate. He set it down and pried it open using a long chunk of metal. A whole crate of chicken feathers. "All right now, everyone clear away while I do this." he ordered. Everyone backed off while he floated four feet over Pippin...then overturned the crate. Some feathers landed on parts of Pippin and burned from the flames. Most hit the flames or the dirt. However, a good sized portion was coating Pippin's head down to her waist, which was now starting to burn. Another bucket of ale soaked her chest while the bucket hit the floating Ferazel in the head. The spell of flight he was using failed and he fell eighteen feet into the dirt where he now vanished too. No Ferazels were left except the original. He conjured a lawn chair and sat down to watch the chicken Pippin being roasted alive.

About half an hour later, all that was left was some scoarched feathers scattered around the area Pippin had been. There was also a large pile of ashes. But no Pippin. Ferazel walked back in the tavern, got the sword, walked back outside and began experimenting with it. Merely a common sword with a poisioned blade. He threw it and it landed on some person's roof with a metallic CLANG. It slid a few feet with a metallic grating noise and stopped. Ferazel walked back inside and ordered a glass of Northshore Red, sitting down at the table where Katerei was still slumped. He thought about the innocent person Pippin had killed...his nephew Ferzle.

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Key Part in the making of [url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/mdwgmalc"]Xichra's Revenge[/url].
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"Yo ho ho and a bottle of Snapple! Cap't and his Pirate Crew!
Microsoft is better than Apple! I have more software than you!" <repeat>

[This message has been edited by ferazel_09 (edited 10-15-2002).]

Rogan stopped so suddenly that Dusk barely managed to stop himself, avoiding a collision with Rogan. "Then again, we could just spend the night at my house," he said, "what was I thinking? I have a guest room with an extra bed you can borrow."
Dusk smiled, "a guest room? You people do make a lot of money!"
Rogan chuckled as he turned to the left and continued walking, "well, it depends," he said, "a few months ago I came across the most wonderful treasure. A gigantic wooden chest," he stretched his arms out, "this wide and this big! Filled with oboloi, gold and gems." Rogan looked up and smiled, thinking back at the moment he opened the chest and looked inside. The overwhelming feeling of joy and happiness. A remarkable reward. Then he looked down and continued, "but the dangers I had to go through... and the monsters that my sword literally had to go through, it was quite a challenge, I'll tell you that."

Dusk paid close attention to his story and, when Rogan had been bragging for a while and stopped to get air, he had a chance to reply: "Whoa, Rogan, I would like to see that treasure. Who knows, maybe I will get my hands on something like that myself someday..."
Rogan smiled and responded, "I think so, my friend. But you will have to be patient. Actions of some kind are required for riches to come to you. And besides, the riches won't come to you, you will have to come to the riches."

...won't come to us, we will have to come to them, so that's why we're gonna be out there and not on our ******* asses in here, yammering about improper work hours, too long shifts, lack of ammunition, et cetera, et cetera. I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour from ANYONE, private, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR? Dismissed!

"...so slaughtering beasts in the wilderness is easy enough, but getting your hands on the really huge piles of loot is a pain in the... Dusk?"
Rogan shook Dusk's arm. "What did you see?" he asked curiously as he had started getting used to Dusk's sudden flashbacks.
Dusk stood still for a few seconds, thinking, before he answered: "I... can't say for sure. I didn't see much, I just heard a voice. A resounding voice, someone with authority. I could feel respect flowing through me. He was yelling at someone, but not me I think, and that was pretty much it."

"That's some really weird stuff," Rogan said, "some food and a good night's sleep will do wonders for us both now I suppose. We'll go talk to Sisyphus first thing in the morning."
They walked for another couple of minutes before Rogan turned again and approached a building. "Ah, here it is" he said as he fetched a key from his pouch.
Rogan muttered something under his breath before unlocking the door. "My own personal burglar-alarm" he said, "a custom-made spell combined with a rune that will alert me and hold back any people not classified as friends of my house."
Dusk followed Rogan inside, looking at the seemingly regular door.
"Just hang that coat and helmet of yours over there" Rogan said, pointing at a dumb waiter standing in a corner, next to some shoes.
"And make yourself at home while I go get some supper in the kitchen."
Dusk immediately set course for the dining table in the living room. Once sitting on a comfortable chair, he looked around, examining the room; Paintings and sculptures decorated it, along with large candelabras and a plant, a tasteful living room he thought. However, his thoughts were interrupted by a grunt coming from behind him. When he turned around, looking straight in the eyes of a large swamp gator, Dusk fell off the chair. As the animal approached him, he got to his feet and whipped out the bio-blade.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there!" Rogan came running from the kitchen. "My apologies, I forgot to mention Snapper!"
At the sound of his name, the gator quickly walked to Rogan who pet him on the head. "Snapper is my pet. Genuine living swamp gator, my watchdog" Rogan said with a smile. Dusk couldn't hold his laughs back when he asked Rogan where on Earth he got hold of a warm-blooded gator. "It's a long story, like most interesting stories tend to be," Rogan answered, "but the short story is; I found an egg in the Great Swamp years ago. It hatched at my house later on, and I've had him ever since. You see, swamp gators aren't mammals, like other gators. He thinks of me as his mom, I guess. Although, I prefer the term 'master'"
He turned to the gator again. "Snapper, meet Dusk. He's a friend, so be gentle"
Snapper immediately walked over to Dusk to greet him. "He has remarkable senses," Rogan bragged, "very house-clean too... he only roughs up people who breaks into my house when I'm not here".

Rogan went to the kitchen again, which was just in the other room, separated from the living room with an arch. "I'll make some eggs and bacon If you like." Snapper quickly followed Rogan to the kitchen when he heard the word "bacon".

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Some people say war doesn't solve anything... perhaps they're using the wrong strategy...

[This message has been edited by Rogan (edited 10-15-2002).]

A few clangs signified that dinner was underway. Dusk suddenly realised he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and was very hungry. He walked into the kitchen and sat on the bench next to Rogan, who shocked apal. Dusk smiled "You should take me on a grand tour Rogan! I'd like to see more of this house, it's very stylish"
Rogan laughed "We are talking about my house you know".
Snapper made himsefl at home on Dusks feet, closings his eyes. He wasn't really asleep, just waiting, relying on his smell to tell when the bacon was ready.
"Rogan are Cytherians religious at all? I havn't seen any churches"
Rogan continued cooking, keeping a trained eye on the eggs over the stove. "No, Cytherians don't believe in any sort of god" Rogan paused in his bacon flipping, eyes looking up thoughtfully "we almost did. The first Tyrant was looked upon in very much a god like manner. If it wasn't for King Alaric I suppose we might all believe in one divine power or another"
"Maybe it's becuase Cythera is a pretty amazing place anyway" mused Dusk.
"Yes, I suppose you're right. With magic and new arrivals and ruffians. Our past is pretty amazing too, with the four elementals and everything. Espscially as some of them are still around. Did your world have any magic Dusk?"
Rogan finished a bit of bacon. The fat on the side he flung to Snapper, who gulped it up ravenously. The nicely done peice he gave to Dusk, who gulped it down just as fast as Snapper. Rogan laughed and tossed another few bits on.
"No, my world didn't have any magic. Infact mostly it was frowned upon, ghosts, magic. Anything that couldn't be explained logically was generally ignored. Most medieval people were religious, many died for it. I suppose that with all the new technology that was being invented people became less and less were believing in that sort of stuff. I 'spose it's the opposite in Cythera"
Rogan served four eggs out, two on each plate and gave the fifth to Snapper. He lead the way into the dining room and pulled out a chair for himself, motioning the cushioned seat opposite him. Dusk moved the comfy seat out of the way and dragged the wooden stool from the kitchen, sitting straight backed and grinning over his meal.
"This is fantastic Rogan! Emesa teach you to cook or something?" Dusk took an egg into his mouth whole, swallowing it bit by bit. The next egg he savoured, slowly munching on the crispy edges and spreading the yoke onto his toast like butter.
Through a mouthfull Rogan managed a giggle at Dusks delight. They were, after all, just eggs.

After dinner the two men retired to the lounge room. Rogan had got a large fire going that filled the room with a radiant warmth. Dusk had doused the torches, leaving the glowing fire the only source of light. It cast an envoloping red light through out teh room.
"So Rogan, why does this man owe you?"



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Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

Rogan chuckled as he reached out for a sword standing next to the fireplace. He used it to rake around a bit among the glowing remains of wood and threw in a couple more logs. Again the flames rose up, adding a nice dim light to the already calm and nice atmosphere. He left the edge of the sword buried in the heat. Snapper, who was lying next to the fireplace enjoying the cosy warmth, opened his eyes and looked up at Rogan before he rolled over and went to sleep again.

"Well, Sisyphus is an old friend of mine," Rogan started, "our friendship goes way back to the time we were playing in the fields outside Odemia."
He stretched out his hand for a small stoneware container standing on an end table, carefully opening the lid as he continued, "but alas, people grow old... Sisyphus moved to Cademia about year after I went to Pnyx and so, we lost contact. He wasn't really into magic you see, his dream was to move to a large place and start his own business. He was going to be a real-estate agent, yeah, thats what he called it. It was his dream, and when he turned eighteen, nothing could stop him from moving."

Rogan took the lid off and placed it back on the end table, revealing the contents of the container: Weed. Then he took a small portion of the weed and placed the lid back on the container. A pipe was lying on another table on Dusk's side and, when Rogan asked if he would pass him the pipe, Dusk asked: "You smoke a lot? What's that you're smoking?"
As he shoved the weed into the pipe he answered: "I'm not a big smoker, only smoke to relax and on special occations. Like this one, having a new friend of my house over for a visit." He grabbed the sword from the fireplace and used the red hot tip to light the pipe. Then he placed it in his mouth, closed his eyes and inhaled the smoke and blew smoke rings into the air. They rose to the roof and vanished into thin air and to Dusk's surprise, the room was instantly filled with a nice, soothing (is that a word?) smell. He couldn't really find out what it was by just smelling, but it smelled good.

"Mmm... delicious" Rogan smiled.
"We also had smoke back where I came from," Dusk said, thoughtfully, "but no one could get hold of it once war erupted, and there were a lot of addicted people who snapped when they ran out of supplies..."
"Addicted?" Rogan turned to Dusk, smoke coming out of his mouth, "like you get addicted to wine or coffee?"
Dusk paused to think before he answered, "not that innocent, no. Most cigarettes as they were called contained a lot of bad chems."
"Chems?" Rogan raised both eyebrows and leaned forward, listening to Dusk.
"Narcotic properties," Dusk said, "actually, it killed a lot of people over several decades of use."
"Sounds like some nasty stuff," Rogan looked down at the pipe. "Here in Cythera, stuff like that is strictly prohibited and generally frowned upon. The weed you smoke is actually quite healthy as it is a blend of several natural ingredients like swamp beans, peppermint and plants with healing properties. There are several blends, you just have to find the one that floats your boat."
Rogan offered his pipe to Dusk. "Give it a try, maybe? This is a more exclusive blend, containing among other things a plant found only in fields aroun the Great Swamp and some other places. Quite relaxing."
Dusk took the pipe. "Sure, why not", and tasted carefully. Rogan was right, it tasted good, somewhat sweet, and the moment he blew the smoke out again he felt a little light-headed at first, but soon relaxed and well.

"Not bad, eh? You can get it at some healer's shops and most stores" Rogan said with a smile, "but about Sisyphus... Eventually I moved to Cademia when my studies were finished and settled down. At that time, I had forgotten all about Sisyphus and didn't even realise that we lived in the same city. Until one day a few years later when I met him on a bazaar in Catamarca. We travelled back home together, but as we were on our way we fell under attack by ruffians. They took us completely by surprise and nearly killed Sisyphus. But I managed to kill them by using my magic; They propably took me for being some farmer on my way home after attending the bazaar. But they were wrong and they had to die. Actually, that was the first time I actually killed a person... or make that three persons. I had to carry Sisyphus for hours, it didn't look that good but eventually we reached Odemia, where I got him to a doctor. He recovered completely and later on I found out that the ruffians were not simple thieves: They were hitmen trying to kill Sisyphus because he owed a lot of money to the wrong people... his business didn't fare as well as planned, and he had to borrow a lot. So I saved his life twice, I killed the assassins and paid his debt for him. To this day, he still owes me his life. And now his business is back on track."

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Some people say war doesn't solve anything... perhaps they're using the wrong strategy...

"You're dizzy? Well, that's one of the side-effects of the fancy version of my teleportation spell. I realize you're a bit new around here so I decided to stick my neck out for you. That character ferazel can be a bit...eccentric at times." Avatara made a clock motion next to his head. "If you insist on approaching him, do so with great caution. And with that Pippin, I'll leave you now. Be careful, I might not be able to help next time."

Avatara sighed as he began the short trek down the hills to Cademia.

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"I hate that! Your answers are always short, precise, and utterly useless!"
"Yes."

[This message has been edited by Avatara (edited 10-16-2002).]

Pippin was luaghing herself silly when she got the news that one of hey clones had nocked out the bumholes cusion and i mean they only nocked out the person and then they had killed the clone
what a story that shall be, and that they will never find me and even if they do ild get raised back from the after life, but i know they will never find me because im on a rock heap in the sea one of many that is.
(ooc)hey i dinent know that it was just i bit of fun and your cousin is still alive and if it'sok if you will let me back into cycriea whithout being killed that would be good(bic)

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were ever i go death will
come with me

Pippin was a bit anoyed becaues she just again got news that the clone had not been killed but been saved by avarta ,"ok then find avarta and bring him to the flax farm so i can meet him myself
and give a present" then Pippin touched her braclet and mutterd a few words then dissaperd.

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were ever i go death will
come with me

[This message has been edited by Pippin 3 (edited 10-17-2002).]

[This message has been edited by Pippin 3 (edited 10-17-2002).]

The two friends sat in silence. The tallish slightly bearded man smoking a pipe experimentaly, the other scratched his gators head lovingly and both enjoyed the fire.
"So Dusk. You still haven't told me what you plan to do here in Cythera."
Dusk sucked on the pipe again, slipping out of the grip he was so accustomed to. The grip of ever alertness, it was mind boggling not to be constantly looking over ones shoulder, not to know where your sword or gun was at every waking moment,. Every breath Dusk took was another quick wake up call, no gas mask or boots, no helmet or gun. Dusk was coming to terms with his new environment slowly but certainly blissfully. All his life Dusk had been wakeful, even in his sleep he slightest movement would wake him. Maybe that wasn't going to be nessercary anymore, maybe he could forget again.
"I don't know Rogan. Something peaceful. I can't hunt without a new sword, mine would poisen the meat. So no hunting. A bard? A Writer?"
"Ha! A bard? What would you tell tales of Dusk? Your past life I suppose. Plus, you've gotta be good at singing, care to try your hand? I know I certainly can't"

"...your hand? I know I certainly can't!" He giggled nervously, peeping at the others. A tense silence suddenly existed, the gun fire dulled with unimportance.
A man looked up. He was power in its most unrefined form. He seemed indestructible, every part of him made of purpose and drive. He didn't huddle in the trench, but sat comfrotablty on the side, a jacket under his feet keeping the mud off his already very dirty combat boots. Whose ever coat it was didn't complain, infact he sat next to the same boots it was keeping dry and beamed with pleasure. This man never smiled, nor frowned. He never wavered in the face of combat or backed down. He would show you how to do something, if you got it wrong he would simply do it again, and again and again until you got it right. When you did it right he'd look you square in the eyes, and nod. A single nod. You could be covered from head to toe blood, dieing, in pain and agony and if he nodded at you, by god you felt proud.
He nodded at the man who had just spoken who grinned and started up a tune.

"Fellers of Australier
Blokes an' coves and coots,
Shift yer bleed-in carcasses
Move yer blood-y boots
Gird yer ****'in loins up,
Get yer blood-y gun
Set the blood-y ern-er-my
An' watch the bugg-ers run

Get a blood-y move on,
Have some blood-y sense
Learn the blood-y art of
Self de-****-n-fence"

The tune continued with all singing happily admist the resounding booms of explosives, hiss of bullets and puffs of bio-grenades.

"DUSK!" Rogan prodded Dusk "What was it?"
Dusk smiled with the memory "I remebered a song we used to sing"
"How does it go?"
Dusk recited all he could remember, sending Rogan into fits of laughter. Dusk thought this was probably due to the fact that they had both had quite a few glasses of fine wine from Rogans cellar.
"That's a good one, but who are the Australiers?"
"I think it is Australians, from Australia... I think was from Australia. It's a country... I think"
Rogan nodded and poured another two glasses, finishing off the bottle. He turned it upside down, a single drip escaping to land on Snappers tongue.
"Maybe you could be a bard then, I suppose if you just worked on that singing voice of yours. I think I've heard sweeter sounding mill stones"
Dusk laughed and sipped his wine thoughtfully "What about farming?"
Rogan shook his head "There are so many farms around, Cythera has plently of fruit and vegetables"
"What about live stock?" Dusk asked hopefully.
"Goats anf fowl are about your only options, and horses of course"
"Sheep?"
"Yes, we've got a few. Some crackpot old fool up near the Magiesterium keeps em. Can't understand him though. What would you want with em? Far as I can see jus' a waste of space. Their milk tastes bloody awful too"
Dusk laughed "And what of fishing, smithing. Building, the other trades Rogan?"

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Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

[This message has been edited by dusk (edited 10-17-2002).]

"You can always get a job as a fisherman, and if you can get hold of a bow or some sword without a poisonous touch to it there's always both fun and cash in hunting" Rogan answered. Dusk gave the pipe back and Rogan put it in his mouth and smoked some more before he continued: "You said you wanted to work with something peaceful... but if you change your mind about that, there's always an opening almost everywhere for a mercenary. That means you can take jobs as security guard, nightwatchman or hired swordsman or something like that. It's a bit on the dangerous side but always well-paid, and you answer to no-one but yourself. If you are still insecure, we can go to the unemployment office tomorrow and see if they got a job you might like, maybe?"

Dusk nodded as he listened to Rogan. "I will think about that," he replied, "I do have to make some oboloi if I want to survive in this world. Right now, I just have to get myself some roof over my head."

Rogan smiled, "my door is always open for good friends, Dusk, please feel welcome to stay here for as long as it takes. We'll see Sisyphus tomorrow and talk to him about apartments, and then you can start counting your oboloi and begin looking for a job."

"Thank you, I really appreciate that" Dusk smiled.
They sat there another half hour, chatting. When the fire was almost extinguished, Rogan got up and walked over to a window. He took his pipe and knocked it against the edge of the window, sending what was left of the now burnt-out weed to the ground outside. Snapper got up and walked towards Rogan's bedroom.
"We don't share bed," Rogan laughed, "but he's got his own carpet next to the bed where he sleeps at night. He usually goes to sleep about this time."
"And I guess we should do the same," Dusk said as he got up from the chair, "a long day is ahead of us".
"Agreed," Rogan responded, "the grand tour will have to wait until tomorrow. The guest room is over there, the bed's been made."

Dusk said good night to Rogan and opened the door to the guest room. A bed was placed in the corner, and that wasn't all that had been made. Next to it stood an end table and a mirror hung on the wall. A pail of water stood next to a table with a piece of soap placed on a small plate standing on it. Next to the soap was an empty bowl. Dusk poured some water into the bowl and washed his face and hands before he closed the drapes, to block the morning sun out when that time came. On the bed lay a pair of trousers and a shirt, which Dusk changed into before going to sleep. He couldn't remember being so comfortable ever before, and it didn't feel right in the beginning. But it was wonderful and he would like to get used to it, he thought. Rogan was still up. Judging by the sounds Dusk could hear, he was cleaning up in the kitchen. Dusk fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

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Some people say war doesn't solve anything... perhaps they're using the wrong strategy...

As i stalked through the trees looking for another person to steal of... i notice a hooded female, she goes by the name... Pippin... i leap out and snatch her money but she is faster than me... and pulls a blade and throws it at my throut... i concentrate... my staff pops out i ready an energy ball and aim it at her... but i just couldnt throw it
*OoC*hey all im new my character is ramir gall... well cya all*BiC
I realised... the truth echoes in me i couldnt throw that ball... i cncentrate once more and i transform in a green flash of light into a black panther... i ran

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Lucas, Flynn and Salazar thought they were prepared for anything, but what they confronted left them feeling completely out of their depth. Instead of confronting hideous monsters or life threatening dangers, ahead of them they saw a cozy living area, complete with armchairs, tables, and even a roaring fire. There was no chimney over the fireplace, so it was just as well that whatever was burning on the fire produced no smoke. Closed doors in the side walls lead off to other, unseen rooms.

Seated at a small table, with their backs to the adventurers and poring over a manuscript of some kind, was an elderly man and a young woman. They were so deep in discussion that they hadn't noticed the new arrivals.

"... fails, Akheron, the consequences would be catastrophic." The woman's voice was youthful and full of passion and energy, possessing an almost hypnotic, musical quality.

"Yes, that is why I fear to attempt it. Perhaps we can devise some way of making a small scale test, that would not upset the balance?" By contrast, the elderly man's voice was tired, yet confident. There was a sense of great power and learning about him that few people could equal.

Flynn glanced briefly at his companions, shrugged, and cleared his throat noisily. The two at the table started in surprise, and turned to face them. The woman was quite beautiful, Flynn noted, even through the dark frown that clouded her expression.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"Calm down, Katherine," Acheron soothed. "I don't think they intend us any harm." He motioned slightly, indicating Flynn's unsheathed weapon.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," Flynn responded, slightly embarrassed at having forgotten the naked blade in his hand. He quickly returned it to its scabbard.

"My name is Flynn," he continued. "My companions are Lucas and Salazar; and you, I understand, are Akheron and Katherine. We were exploring a hole we discovered in the floor of the Alraeican Tavern. There was a portal at the bottom, which brought us here."

"Well, I see that people up there are still as impetuous as ever," Katherine snorted, folding her arms across her chest. Her face was still graced by a dark frown.

Akheron chuckled. "It's not been so long since you were in their shoes, my dear. You might try to be a little more understanding."

"Sorry, Akheron, but we could do without the distraction."

"Yes, quite right." He turned to the three bewildered adventurers. "I'm terribly sorry, but we're involved in some serious, delicate work, here. We really must remain undisturbed, so we'll just have to send you back. Oh, and it won't do to have knowledge of our activities getting out; there's simply too much at stake to take a risk that large."

Flynn nodded. "We understand; we can keep our mouths shut."

Akheron nodded knowingly. "And now, I'm afraid I must return you to the surface." He waved a hand, and in a burst of bright blue light, the two mages were once again alone in their hidden chamber.

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

Halfway between Lenad King Hall and Odemia, two women kept up a steady pace southward. One was dressed from head to toe in black armour, while the other wore a simple green dress.

"You know, you've never really mentioned what brought you and the Scribe to Cythera," Sasha commented, glancing sideways at her half-elven companion. "Is it something you can talk about?"

Brianna chewed her lip, before reluctantly beginning to speak. "It was my fault, really. You see, I -"

She was interrupted by a mass of roaring voices, as seven scruffily dressed and poorly armed men burst from the cover of the nearby jungle, waving their swords, their expressions fairly screaming their murderous intent. In an instant, Sasha's sword was out and swinging. She felt no fear; this bunch constituted little more than a mild annoyance. She felt a moment's shock, as a lithe, dark form bounded past her and began tearing into the small group of ruffians.

"Oh, the panther!" she thought to herself. She grounded her sword, and stood back to watch Brianna's alter-ego in action. It was extremely brief; the men were completely unprepared to deal with such a beast, and fled in abject terror - those that were still able.

Once the last of the men had gone or been dispatched, the Panther lay down on the ground. Sasha watched in fascination as it's body shimmered, becoming less and less distinct. For a moment, Brianna's familiar form was overlaid on that of the panther; then she was alone. Sasha approached tentatively.

Brianna's eyes snapped open, and Sasha was surprised to see they retained their feline appearance. Brianna gave off a low growl, and edged away from her. "Easy," Sasha said in a soft, soothing voice. "It's all right, I won't hurt you." She edged gradually closer, palm open and outstretched. Brianna slowly calmed down, and her eyes faded back to their normal emerald green.

"Oh... what happened?" she asked, bewildered.

"You turned into the panther, and chased off the bandits."

"I did? I didn't mean to..."

"Are you all right? You seemed to still be part cat, for a while."

"That... that happens when I change without meaning to, without time to prepare - when it takes over."

Sasha stared at her speculatively, as she helped her to her feet. "Tell me about it. Maybe we can find a way to help."

Brianna took a deep breath, and launched into her tale as they continued on their way to Cademia.

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I will classify my lieutenants in three categories: untrusted, trusted, and completely trusted. Promotion to the third category will be awarded posthumously.

[This message has been edited by Overmind (edited 10-18-2002).]

Dheiva screamed and hid behind a tree, and Shi flitted high up into the sky as a bright ball of blue light flared in front of them, depositing three highly confused men on the ground.

"Flynn! Lucas!" the Phaerie called out. "What do you think you're doing?"

The three men stared about, attempting to reorient themselves. Eventually, Shi's tiny voice penetrated Flynn's befuddlement, and he looked up into the sky. "Sorry about that, Shi. One minute, we were working on repairing the tavern, and the next minute..." the position of the sun in the sky filtered into his awareness. "Actually, a lot of minutes later. Anyway, here we are. I don't know what happened. Do either of you?" he looked questioningly at his two companions, who shook their heads.

"Well now," Lucas muttered. "This is a strange affair."

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I will classify my lieutenants in three categories: untrusted, trusted, and completely trusted. Promotion to the third category will be awarded posthumously.

Dheiva looked out uncertainly from behind the thick treetrunk, and hesitated before speaking. "Shi, do you know these people?"

"Yes, I do!" Shi fluttered up and down in the air, pointing to the men in turn. "That's Flynn, and that's Lucas, and that's...uh...um..."

"Salazar," the man added helpfully.

Bitterly, Dheiva looked away, muttering to herself in the Rennai language. "Eryn qaue cal mi a'm tyrthein...Ei ayotel mygui len dao."* She turned back to the three unfamiliar men, studying them. Humans.

Flynn stepped forward to greet Dheiva, but stopped as he he took in her unfamiliar features. However, he managed to recover quickly from his surprise, and smiled at the girl. "Well, Cythera always has had some racial diversity. Er...never mind," he added quickly, seeing Dheiva's confused expression.

"I don't know what 'diversity' means. I don't speak your language very well yet," Dhieva said quietly. "Not many people have ever taken the time to talk to me, and you can probably see why."

"From what I've seen around here, people don't seem to mind other races that much. Look at Shi." Lucas shrugged.

Dhieva's eyes flashed angrily. "You can't have been around here very long. There was a reason I went solitary, until I stumbled upon Shi." The Rennai turned away to hide the ashamed expression on her face, and began walking away from them.

Shi looked bewildered. She couldn't understand why her new friend had gotten angry all of a sudden. Not knowing what else to do, she flew after Dheiva. "But you only just met them!" she called. "Flynn and Lucas are nice, and Salazar probably is too. You said you'd come back to the Tavern with me, remember? You wanted to meet my friends..."

It was true. Dheiva stopped walking and closed her eyes briefly. "Yes, you're right." She nervously touched the blue marks on her face, thinking. It brought back memories...the strange man from across the sea. He had been kind to her. "Cal shai viy amanya, ei mi dao.** All right, Shi. I'll come."

*"Reason enough to be a little concerned...I never should have come."

**"To keep my honor, I will come."

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The stars will fade and flowers will eventually die, but eloquence shall never fail to blossom on the tongues of the gifted.

*OoC* dammit ok ill channge my form... sorry bout that hmm got any suggestons. and dusk is away i personally know him and pippin, to feralze i have u in my cage... sucker *BiC*
i mutter the incantation HARADU A DIGYAMARA! the spell i have cast makes it so that feraelze doesnt WANT to get out of the cage...
i stepped into the tavern and i ammediatly see 2 golems they start to kill the runks... i pull out my staff and cast one of my spells (dispell) and the golems fall to the floor lifless... the people all want to give me gifts i turn them all down except for a lone stranger they call him... Dusk
Dusk smiled at me and said
"head to a town southwest of the forest there you will find blades of great power... of course they are very expensive" and dusk pulled back his hood paid the bartender and left... i followed him out and asked "Dusk... hold up, my name is Ramir-Gall, and i have a question... would you like to come with me
Dusk smiled again...
"of course i have only be able to reach there once there is thick vegetation..."
"im a man of the forest"i said
with those words he smiled yet again and said "follow me ill take you there"
with that he started to run...

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

Katerei opened her eyes, sitting up straight in her chair. Through the window, she watched Ramir-gall running off into the distance. A slightly bluish figure was running alongside it. She shook her head in distaste.

"Silly gullible people," she murmured. "I told Ferazel not to create a replica of Dusk when he was here. Look at the problems it caused!"

Sighing, she turned to the wire cage containing Ferazel in the center of the tavern. "And look at what that man does in his spare time! Locking people up in the middle of a tavern. Ferazel, Ferazel, how do you get involved in messes with these people?"

"Well, you might want to be getting him out of there," a patron reminded her.

"True. Anybody got a piece of fruitcake?" Looking around, Katerei realized most of the patrons were too drunk to remember what fruitcake was. Fortunately the patron who had spoken had an available piece.

"From my aunt, last winter," the patron said, grinning wryly.

"Uh, thanks, I think." Katerei looked at the stale cake in disgust. "Well, it's hard enough. Here goes." Raising the fruitcake above her head, she began pounding on the wire cage with it. To the shock of the (very few) sober patrons, the wires gave under the repeated blows and quickly shattered into several thousand shards of metal.

"Nothing like a piece of enchanted fruitcake to get the job done, eh?" Ferazel muttered to himself as he sat down.

"No kidding," Katerei said, and tossed the unscathed cake over her shoulder. Behind her, a window was heard shattering. "Uh. Oops."

Talos sighed from behind the counter. "Even when she seems sober, she acts just like a drunk," he quipped. "Hope you're going to pay for that window?"

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The stars will fade and flowers will eventually die, but eloquence shall never fail to blossom on the tongues of the gifted.

Ferazel sat in a chair, wondering how he got into a cage in the first place. "Have I recently bought too much alchohol?" he asked Talos. "Very recently." Talos replied. "And did I willingly go into a large steel cage?" "Somewhat." "Were there really two golems in the bar?" "Not that I saw." "And were there runks with gifts in the bar?" "Drunks, yeah, not runks, and no one's brought in a present since two Christmases ago."

Satisfied, Ferazel sat down and ordered some Coke. Talos had no "Coke" so Ferazel conjured a bright red and white can made of metal. Pulling a tab on it resulted in a loud HISS followed by a clicking noise. Ferazel began to drink the liquid that was inside it. Several drunks wandered over and asked if it contained "al-key-hol".

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Key Part in the making of [url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/mdwgmalc"]Xichra's Revenge[/url].
---
"Yo ho ho and a bottle of Snapple! Cap't and his Pirate Crew!
Microsoft is better than Apple! I have more software than you!" <repeat>

Avatara strides into the tavern and notices the decapitated golems, the shattered cage, and a broken window.

He sighed, "I swear - the next person to try and seriously maim, burn, lock-up, drown, or kill is going to get smacked."

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"I hate that! Your answers are always short, precise, and utterly useless!"

Katerei sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Well, I wasn't trying to do any damage."

The tavern went silent. Katerei frowned. "What?! Don't you believe me?"

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The stars will fade and flowers will eventually die, but eloquence shall never fail to blossom on the tongues of the gifted.

At that moment, Trinias, Ulf and Kwon Chen entered the tavern. They halted, taking in the frozen tableau in front of them. Trinias' quick, facile eyes darted from the shattered cage mingled with tiny fragments of fruitcake, to the broken window, to the multitude of accusing glares directed at Katerei, and finally settled on Katerei's own indignant expression. "Figures," he chuckled.

"Indeed, who else?" Kwon responded, raising a solitary eyebrow.

The trio wandered over to join the Scribe, who, as normal, as busily scribbling in a journal. Trinias opened his mouth to ask a question, but the Scribe got in first.

"No, she had nothing to do with the destruction of the golems. And no, I don't know what's become of your friends." He peered up at the young archer across the tops of his gold-rimmed glasses. "Now, sit there if you like, but please stop interrupting me - I'm at a very delicate point in my work, and I simply must finish."

Trinias blinked, shrugged, and signalled for a round of drinks.

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I will classify my lieutenants in three categories: untrusted, trusted, and completely trusted. Promotion to the third category will be awarded posthumously.

Pippin found avartera at the taven and said "thanks for saving my clone"then Pippin haned him a braclet with a emraled in it and said"say tooleth if you need some saftey and with that Pippin walked out the door.

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were ever i go death will
come with me

*OoC* hey all i have been thinking of having wolf powers... and they can be uncontrollable!!!!!!! *BiC*

As ramir-gall renntered the tavern he found ferelze sitting there... "how did you brake free" i asked
"i dunno how did i...?" i turned sighed and then killed several demons
then i felt it the uncontrollable feeling the green flash
"aroooo!!!!!" i cried into the night air... the god of the forest had called...
*OoC* as you can clearly see im a wolf shapeshifta for awhile i thought i should become a shadow... nah thats to ultimate pippin told me... ill get back to reading posts *BiC*
i turned unsheathed my doublesided handblade and sliced bad speeler's bad speeling ccursed guy and with a moan he fell dead then i laughed so hard and so cold then i blew up...
i was back into my house i unsheathed my blade... still i couldnt help notoicing pippin... she was so
"Cute"

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

[ooc] Calm down Pippin, remember that Slayer asked nicely the first time. We aren't really getting angry at you personally, just your spelling and lack of care for correct and easy to read posts. If you start accusing others and swearing people will get angry at you, which is not what you want. [bic]

Dusk awoke early, his internal body clock waking him before the sun had a chance to. Rogan was still asleep, and Dusk helped himself to eggs and bacon, remembering where Rogan had grabbed the ingredients from the night before.
"Rogan where can I get some water from?"
Dusk turned around, cracking an egg over the frypan, clearly foiling Rogans plan to scare Dusk with a shout.
Rogan put his hands down from his mouth and grinned "That pail over there. How'd you sleep Dusk?"
"Fine thanks" Dusk fetched the pail and filled one of the many plain mugs, downing the clear liquid in one gulp, tilting his head back to catch the last drips.
"Heh, what did you do to need water that bad? Fight a war?"
Dusk laughed and Rogan joined him, realising the irony of his comment.
"Off to Sisyphus today, you got anything in mind already?"
Dusk cracked the rest of the eggs into the empty mug, giving it a quick swirl. Rogan looked on with disgust as Dusk drank the seven raw eggs without a breath.
Noting Rogans look Dusk said "It is strength giving, a tradition from my past life, whenver we could get hold of eggs of course" Dusk wiped his mouth clean on his sleeve and continued cooking "You know that little sort of bit of land surrounded by cliffs? The one over near the sea? I wonder if it's for sale"
"Roughs Point*? It'd take a year and a day to build a path up that, let alone build a house up there"
"Well, we can ask Sisyphus, right?"
Rogan nodded, and sat down to eat.
----------
A few moments later a regal, old style of Cytherian building anounced the pairs arrival at the real estate agent. Rogan motioned the door with a sweeping, mocking bow. "Ladies first" he joked.
Dusk and Rogan entered the shop. It was ill lit and musty, a slight movement in the corner gave away the real estates presence.
"How can I help you Sirs?"

*note: Roughs Point is meant to be the little knob of ground near where you find the buried treasure in Cademia. Obviously the one I hope to have Dusk set up home on would be larger.

[ooc] I've left the actual meeting to you Rogan, since you made Sisyphus it's only fair that you describe him [bic]


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Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran