CWS Archive

[Roneatek]

I remember writing these with John Mora and The Honorable Ryu. Sadly, I can't seem to find the majority of it, so I will post what I have here. It may be out of order.

* * *

Baruk had expected this, but he didn’t expect it so soon. In the midst of his travels he got stuck translocating, and now he wandered the Null-dimension.

“Blast!” he thought, swimming in a hazy purple smoke, “of all the times to use the chant, he had to pick now!” Baruk swam in the direction of Tehrill and Ellessa, but then he realized something. He stopped for a moment, deciding on what to do next. About him was nothingness, but since he was the only being in the null-universe, he could bend it as he wished. This universe was kingless, and only the Shifters like himself could travel through them. He floated as if in water as he made up his mind.

“She probably went and tested him, the reckless girl!” he said, shaking his head. “Ah well, its time to do a big brothers work.” With a spark of his mind and a flash of his hand, he could now see a large airship before him, hazy through the purple mist.

“The bulky thing is so ugly” he commented to himself. “Dragons are much more efficient.” He swam towards the hazy outline of the ship and it gradually became clearer. Waving his arms fiercely, he sailed over to the bridge. Restaff wasn’t there.

“Where could the bugger be… ah!” he said, and through the ship hull he sailed. Room after room he swam through and each seemed to be a boring repetition of the other. He tried to remember the layout of the ship from when he last visited it, but his memories were somewhat hazy in the Null-dimension. He remembered a larger chamber on the third floor, and he remembered it being somewhat elegant, for human standards.

“Knowing Restaff, he would choose that place as his bedchamber” he said as he dived to the third floor.

“Heh, this isn’t so bad” he said to himself as he did cartwheels and spins in nothingness. He grinned in spite of himself. There it was, the door to the room. He sailed through it, but found no one there. He turned the corner and saw the library. The book was missing, as he guessed. There was no sight of Restaff in the bathroom or the closets. Then he spotted the bedroom door. His eyes went wide when he realized it was closed.

“Curses!” he said as what was happening dawned on him. With a mighty thought he hurled himself through the door and into the bedchamber. The room was dark except for a few candles. But he could hear Restaff’s evil laugh. Baruk saw his silhouette, a cruel block of stone it looked. He was grasping something forciblly. It was Ishtar.

She shrieked, as he ripped off her boots in an evil laugh.

“Geren! Baruk!!” she screamed and kicked wildly. Restaff caught her foot full in the face and reeled backwards. All this did was anger him and he lunged at the frantic Ishtar, pinning her to the bed.

“Fight all you want, slave!” Restaff roared in glee. “Now I am the master and you are my servant! Please me or be punished!” she tried to scratch out his eyes but he caught her hands and squeezed. She wailed in pain.

Suddenly an explosion filled the chamber and a purple light filled the room. With a roar Baruk crossed from the Null dimension and seized Restaff by the collar. Before Restaff knew what was happening, Baruk was beating the daylights out of him. Like a lion cornered, Baruk’s attacks were fierce and relentless, aimed to kill. But the surprise had worn off and Restaff retaliated. With one sweep of his arms, he caught up Baruk and slammed him against the wall. With a roar Restaff leapt on Baruk and relentlessly beat his torso. Restaff laughed evilly, but stopped suddenly as he was lifted and thrown out the bedroom door. In a flurry of shock, Restaff sailed across the room and smashed into his goblet case, breaking everything within. Baruk emerged from the bedchamber, his clothes in tatters, but looking stronger than ever. Restaff shakily stood to his feet. There was no sign of fear in Baruk’s eyes, but rather a terrifying confidence that shook Restaff to the bones. He brushed it aside, and charged. Restaff succeeded in throwing Baruk to the floor, but immediately Baruk turned and smashed Restaff face into the ground. Restaff didn’t move.

As fast as a leopard, Baruk dashed into the bedchamber and took hold of the weeping Ishtar.

“Did he defile you!?” he asked emotionally, and to his relief, she shook her head no.

“He... he tried, but you came…” she said. Her clothes were ripped and hanging from her body. She was covered in bruises. Baruk wrapped his sister in a sheet and picked her up in his arms.

“Were getting out of here and finding Geren,” he said, reassuringly. “We need to make some new plans” he stepped out of the bedroom but stopped suddenly in surprise. Restaff was standing and glaring at them. But that’s not what made Baruk stop. In Restaff's hands was a spinning ball of blue flame, encompassed by skipping electricity. The heat of it made the sweat on Baruk's head turn to steam and the plants in the room withered.

“Garas, tenoth emun!” yelled Restaff and the ball of flame shot strait for Baruk and Ishtar. Ishtar screamed and Baruk turned his back, shielding Ishtar from the blast. The ball of flame hit Baruk in the back full force. He spun through the cabin and smashed into a widow. He and Ishtar were flung out if the airship and immediately began to fall. Restaff walked to the window and peered out. There was no sign of them.

“Ishtar…” he said under his breath, and then he laughed an evil laugh and turned away. But He was not the last to laugh.

Ishtar screamed as they fell, glass falling amongst them. Barak was smoking and his clothes were gone. He looked like a mummy, dried up over time. But then his eyes opened.

A merry laugh issued from his mouth and his body crackled as he moved. His gray and charred flesh split open and fell. Two leathery wings emerged, and then large claws. A red, scaly tail slithered out of his backside and his head grew enormous. Finally it shattered, and when the dead skin fell away, a friendly and familiar dragon was left, laughing in delight. Baruk spun into the sky, flapping his huge wings, ridding himself of his charred remains. He still held his dear sister in his arms, and she looked at him wide-eyed.

“…So it was you all along…” she said, somewhat sadly. He nodded, and she laughed. “Isn’t it ironic that Geren and I have been chasing these emeralds all this time to get it, and you, who cared the least for the emeralds, are the one that got it?” Baruk snorted and fire came out his nostrils.

“I didn’t expect it” he said in a deep booming voice, “But I guess father chose me. I wonder what Geren will do when he realizes his gems are useless, and their power is now in me?”

“He will probably wail for a month” laughed Ishtar, but she stroked her brother’s scaly nose. “I am glad He chose you, and not me,” she said. “I would have been a horrible god.” Baruk laughed and placed Ishtar on his back.

“Come!” he said, spinning in the air. “I have a few friends I would like you to meet.” And with that, Baruk and Ishtar made their way to find Tehrill and Ellessa.

What happened to Geren?
Will Restaff wreak any more havoc?
Who is Baruk and Ishtar's father, and why did he chose Baruk to be a god?
Can Baruk still change forms?
Do the emeralds hold any more power, or was it all transferred to Baruk?

[Roneatek]

Re: CWS Archive

Celeste sat beside Lucas in deep contemplation. The factories and pylons and roads and workers passed by in a gunmetal blur. While they may not be attractive aspects of the city, they no longer disgusted here.
She conceded that she had indeed undergone a change over the past few days. She had never really met anyone from the first few levels before. She had glimpsed them walking around or working from her high up balconies in the upper levels, but to actually talk face to face with them? The thought had never crossed her mind. But here she was sitting next to a man who had lost everything for her. She had never met him before and he had never met her, but he housed her, fed her, clothed her and took care of her, never even thinking of abusing the power he had over her. He had apologized for the things he said about her when he discovered the bodies of Elly and Doug. And she could forgive him; after all, he had seen the murdered corpses of the only family he knew. What if that had been her? What would she have done? Celeste shuddered. She didn’t even want to think of that.
But Celeste was not the only one that had changed. Lucas did not have his usual whimsical smile slapped to his face like he normally did. His jaw was set and his eyes were stern. Yet the softness was still there. Nothing could take that away from him. Perhaps he had lost his naivety. Perhaps he had lost his trust in humanity. But his goodness remained, and that was a comfort to Celeste. She thought of all the different ways she could have come to harm after falling from the sky. She could have bumped into a murderer, thief or rapist instead of Lucas. But she didn’t, and she was just now realizing how lucky she was. She rested her head on his broad yet soft shoulder, and found some rest in sleep.
But Lucas was less than comforted. His mind was a torrent of emotions and pains. He felt guilt, an overwhelming burden of guilt. She trusted him and was sleeping on his shoulder because she thought he was a good man. A good man! A good man does not sleep with 17-year-old children. A good man does not struggle against such lusts. A good man does not help a stranger with the desire only of money. A good man does not take advantage of a young girls situation, all behind the feigned face of friendliness. Her very presence stabbed his heart through with guilt. And Elly! She was gone. Gone, gone to God knows where. The images of her blood-drained corpse filled his mind, and he fought back tears. He cringed at the thought of blaming the poor girl at his side for their deaths. But it was his fault! Yes he, the liar, the pervert, the thief and the deceiver. He, the one who seduced such a girl under the guise of friendship, he, who lost his only family because he desired money. Oh, a good man! What a nice, charming “sweet” guy! Lucas chuckled to himself at the irony. What was he really? A lost soul? A good man gone bad? A thrall seeking redemption?
“He couldn’t sleep. His dreams were worse than his thoughts. How many times must he see those hideous purple eyes? How many times must he replay his attempted murder? Click! Click! Click! The gun would never stop firing its empty rounds in his head. What had he done...what had he done?
Such thoughts tormented the chubby little man as the train pulled into the station. Celeste awoke and looked out the window. They were here. She turned to Lucas. He seemed to be in another place. An unhappy place.
“Lucas, we are here.” He stirred and looked out the window. He cleared his throat.
“Ah, that we be. We’re here, in the middle of no where.” Celeste took his hand and the two exited the train. They read the sign above the train station.
“Hithraviel,” whispered Celeste under her breath. She shook her head. “So far from my home...”
“And far from ol’ purple-eye, I can tell ye that,” said Lucas scratching his chin. He looked around a bit and started walking. Celeste ran to keep up.
“Where are we going?” she asked. Lucas shook his head.
“I dunno. Lets just see what happens.” Celeste didn’t really like that plan, but she followed. What else could she do? Well, she could try to remember where she had seen those tattoos before. And so she followed Lucas as he went from apartment complex to apartment complex, trying to rent a room, but she never spoke much, deep in thought as she was.
She had just read the Nimhilgel the night before here fall. She searched through her memory. Monsters, soldiers, armies and magicians. No tattooed assassins. She went to another book stored safely in her mind and flipped through it. The Eddaringel. History if the Eddars, and the wars that led to their destruction. Stories of plots and deaths, ascensions and assassinations. Nothing there either. Ah, the Mistranigel! Mythologies concerning the birth of life on their planet. Stories of gods and heroes, magics and monsters. Perhaps this had something in it? She searched her memory.

“Filreth, the earth-warden, was bound to keep the keys to the underworld from the Sarneth. He had been entrusted with the keys to the underworld by the Illuminateth, lords of the heavens. A stone gateway, sealed by runes, was the only pathway into the underworld. Filreth was the only one who knew the words to open the gate, and he stood before the gate with his mighty spear, Sparel. But the Sarneth were tricksters, and sought a realm of their own. The Illuminateth owned the heavens and could rule as they please. Men and the sons of men ruled the earth, and there they could do what they pleased. But what of the Sarneth? What realm could they rule? They were fit only to scavenge the lands of men and steal their women. But there was one of the Illuminateth whose only delight was to cause mischief in the world. Those who knew him called him by the name of Urental. Urental took the Sarneth aside and promised them a realm all to their own. He promised them their own lands and their own fires, and that they would be masters of more men than currently walked the earth.
“Go to the Gate of Stone,” said Urental to the Sarneth, “and by my cunning I will win for you the underworld.” And so the Sarneth hid themselves by the Gate of Stone, and Filreth was unaware of their presence. Urental approached Filreth under the guise of friendship.
“What are you doing in this dark place?” asked Urental to Filreth. Filreth answered:
“It is my task to guard this gate from whoever might seek to enter, friend Urental.” Urental shook his head.
“My, that does not seem like fun to me,” said the cunning Urental. “Why, I just got back from a mighty feast! The Illuminateth had a splendid dinner, and there was meat and cheese and beer and fruits. Did you have such a feast, friend Filreth?” Filreth looked puzzled.
“No, I did not...” he said with a frown. Urental threw his hands into the air.
“My! How unfair is this? Listen my friend, and do not be sad. There is still some of the feast left! Go, go unto the Illuminateth and demand your share. They will not deny you.”
“But what of this gate that I guard? Who will guard the gate whilst I am away?”
“Ah, that poses a problem. But look! I am here and my hands are free. Give me your spear Sparel, and give me your keys, and I will guard the gate for you, my friend.” Filreth thought about it and agreed. He gave Urental his mighty spear Sparel and he whispered to him the words of opening, and then he marched towards the heavens and demanded a feast from the Illuminateth. But while Filreth was away, Urental did something most mischievous. He uttered the words of opening and the gate opened. The Sarneth that were hiding near rushed through the gate in glee, and Urental laughed because of his mischief. But when Urental uttered the words of opening, a mighty bell rang throughout the heavens. Soon the Illuminateth learned of Urental’s plan and scolded Filreth for being deceived so easily. As a punishment, Urental was cast into the underworld where he became a lord unto the Sarneth. Filreth was commanded to guard the gateway for all eternity and never again would he eat. It was his stomach that failed him the day of deceiving, and forevermore would his stomach be punished. In the underworld, Urental made evil plans with his Sarneth. He spoke many words of magic to his few select Sarneth and sent them to the world of men to create mischief. As a token of his majesty, Urental wrapped cords of power around his select Sarneth, and they became the Nihilor, dark knights of the underworld, Urental’s evil tongue.”

The description of the Nihilor with their “cords of power” unsettled Celeste. And then she remembered the illustration below the text. She had seen many illustrations in the various texts she had read, but for every identifiable text was an illustration that went along with it. Her mouth went wide in horror as she pieced together the illustration below the Tale of Filreth and the Gate of Stone in the Minstrangiel.

The outline of a pale man with fearsome eyes came to her remembrance. And on his body were cords of blackness, cords of power. Black tattoos.

Celeste was shocked. A myth that has roots in reality? If one aspect of the myth was true, could others be as well? Is there really an underworld and is Urental its king? Celeste shuddered at the thought. But the image of the man and the image of the illustration haunted her. They were one and the same.

Lucas had found a place to stay. Celeste had been quiet during the apartment hunt, but he didn’t mind. It kept his thoughts on other things when she didn’t speak. He had found a small, run down house in the shadow of a massive platform on the second level. It was far from the streets and far from other houses. The landlord had no tenants yet, for the house was run down beyond belief. The windows were broken. There was no heat. It was an unsightly mass of wood and steel, but it would have to do. Lucas paid the landlord his last few bills, and then he and Celeste entered the crumbling house as the last rays of light faded.
The next few hours were used to make the house livable in. Celeste had never worked a day in her life, and the experience was not fun. “Get used to it,” Lucas had said. “I will get a job in the morning and while I am away, you will have your own work to do.” They took boards and boarded up the windows. Lucas found a clogged vent in the house that was linked to some nearby machinery. He opened the vent and warm air poured through the house. They found their heater. The beds were hard and lumpy, but at least they each had their own room. They did have running water and the sinks were not clogged. The bathrooms did work, despite the smell, and it seemed like the place just needed a good cleaning.
“Get some sleep,” said Lucas. “We both have a busy day tomorrow. I’ll work and you’ll clean here, and hopefully, we can make a home out of this place.” Celeste nodded. But she didn’t tell him that she would also be actively trying to find a way back to her own Level while he was away.
Night came and they retried top their rooms. But Lucas could not sleep. The hours went by, and all Lucas could do was sweat. He imagined noises outside his window and noises in the house. He saw purple eyes wherever he went. Memories and thoughts filled his mind. Money did not make his eyes gleam anymore. What was he doing with this girl? Because of his greed, his family was dead. And who was he kidding? He lived in a rundown house on the first Level. Who would take any ransom he made seriously? Did he even want to hold her for ransom anymore? No, he eventually concluded. He couldn’t go through with something like that. His ransom plot cost him enough already. No more evil would be wrought because of his greed. But he was a hunted man. As long as she was with him, he was in danger. He remembered what the purple-eyed man had said.
He stood to his feet. He walked into her room and stood over her bed, looking upon her. He left, and came back with his gun. He pointed it at her.
“Forgive me,” he said, and he cocked it. She was sleeping so peacefully. She really did trust him. How good a man would he be if he killed her in cold blood? But he had reasons! He would die himself if he didn’t! The threat was still in place, and if he didn’t kill her, the evil-eyed man would kill them both! But no bullet came out of his barrel that night. No gun chamber was filled with fire. He slowly lowered his gun. Backing away from her bed, he came against the wall and slid to the floor, his head in his hands.
He couldn’t kill her. Why? Was it because he... loved her?
Yes, that was it. That was the answer. He loved her, but not a sexual love, nor a romantic love. She said so herself, she had never known her parents. She was practically an orphan, and Lucas had no children. Yes, that is what he would do. He would love her and protect her. He would care for this little girl as if she were his own. But... that could never be. What if she knew of all the horrible things he had done? He did not deserve the innocent love of a child. He wept.
Celeste awoke, and saw Lucas sitting in the corner of the room weeping, with a gun in his hand. She became afraid.
“Lucas... were you... going to...” Lucas wept even harder.
‘I... I’m a bad man,” he said between sobs. He looked at her with his tear-stained face. “I do not deserve your trust. I am selfish, deceptive, perverted and evil. I... I...” He bowed his head and wept. But Celeste did not think less of him. She had never known anyone who was as honest as this chubby little man. All her life she had been flattered and praised. No one dared find fault in her, thus, no one ever told her the truth. Her life was built on lies, not love. But here was an honest, regretful man, whatever he may say about himself. Now her eyes were brimming with tears. She climbed out of bed and crawled over to the grief-stricken man. He stopped his sobbing and looked at her, searching her face for something, anything. She smiled and kissed his forehead.
“I accept you, just as you are Lucas, “she said, and curled up next to him. He was shocked. This little girl, this little 14-year-old girl... had the most power over him that anyone ever had had. Her words shattered guilt, hate and condemnation. Her words forgot the past and absolved the present. He was whatever he wanted to be, not what he used to be. He wrapped his arms around the girl and made a promise.
“I won’t let anything happen to you as long as I live. You have my word, the word of a Level One scoundrel, however much that means to you.” She smiled.
“It means more to me than this necklace,” she said, fingering her jewel. And so the both fell asleep, she in his arms and he in hers, and all wounds were healed.

[Roneatek]

Re: CWS Archive

The next morning Tehrill woke up with a start. Day had arrived and he heard the busy noises of people walking in the dirty streets. He lay in bed for a while, relishing the relaxed state he was in, prolonging the time before he would have to get up and look for food yet again. But then he thought about what had awakened him. He heard the soft breathing of the child near him. Tehrill sat up and looked at the pitiful boy who was seemingly content to just sleep his life away.

“Crater…” The boy whispered in his sleep. Tehrill furrowed his brow. The boy tossed a bit and seemed to be having a bad dream. “r…reject me…leave crater,” the boy wheezed. He exhaled loudly and went back to his peaceful slumber. Tehrill decided not to wake him. He stood up and stretched, shaking the sleep out of his head. He walked out of his small cave and into the dim and murky light. People were going about their business, which kept their mind off everything else. Buildings were being constructed and caves were being delved in the side of the mountain. It would take a long while before there were caves enough to house the whole town, but with the fire rain constantly hammering them, caves were their only hope. Until then, many long houses were being constructed out of what scraps of wood they could find that weren’t burnt. A crew of ten men stood facing a sheer cliff wall every day with long picks in their arms, tearing away at the wall with all their strength. After two years of doing this, a small but wide cave had been delved, and this is where the town retreated when the fires fell from the sky. Tehrill’s plan was to make a huge cavern of caves with individual rooms for families and large sleeping chambers for everyone else. He had envisioned a large mess hall with tables and chairs, and hopefully a pool, if they could ever find a cavern of water. Tehrill sighed, knowing that his dream was probably nothing more than that, and at this rate it would take decades to delve out a suitable dwelling.

He walked through the town and people waved and called out his name. He understood why everyone’s hopes were in him, but it was becoming relentless. He had lived all his life as an invisible man, and the relatively new attention was getting to him. But the fact that the townsfolk, most of whom he had saved from death with his very hands, could go about their day almost contently brought him great contentment. With his bag in hand, he walked into the forest of burned and charred trees to make another attempt at finding enough food. He took a different path than the one he was accustomed to taking, for he reckoned that he had exhausted all recourses down that way. After an hour of walking, he was quite glad that he had done so. His bag was half full of roots and herbs and edible leaves, enough for the village to have two meals. He smiled to himself, glad that he had scavenged up enough food.

Suddenly he heard a loud screech from high above, a noise he had not heard in years. He instinctly ducked behind a rotten stump and peered around it. A dead bird fell from the sky and landed near to where he had been. An animal! This was the first living beast Tehrill had seen the last two years. But then he noticed the arrow sticking out of it. Paralyzed in fear, he did not move. Someone had to have shot the bird, and no one in his town had yet made arrows. A small group of boys lumbered excitedly over to the fallen bird and stuffed it in a bag. They jabbered amongst themselves quite carelessly and this gave Tehrill the chance to examine them. They were dressed in fairly fine clothing, much of which had been preserved from the old world of two years ago, but some of it was new and actually made out of animal skins. The thought that animals large enough to make clothing out of still existed excited Tehrill. The boys were clean and full. They looked like they had eaten three meals a day for years. Interestingly enough, each of the had a small symbol tattooed to their foreheads. Tehrill was so shocked to see such whole children that he couldn’t move, even when the boys ran off. Finally he came to his senses and stumbled after them as quietly as a trained assassin ever could.

The boys ran on wings and Tehrill could hardly keep up with them. They were making such a racket however that even when they were out of sight, Tehrill knew exactly where they were. Hours it seemed that he chased them. Every step he took, the air seemed to become clearer. Soon he began to feel moisture on his skin, a feeling he hadn’t felt in years. The dark clouds above dissipated and he could see the sky and lo! it was still blue. The trees were still burned and dead, but they were taller and more numerous. Tehrill wondered if he was still in the same world or if he was slowly waking up from a long and horrible dream. A small hill rose up to his left, and the children seemed to be making strait towards it. Soon they disappeared behind the hill. Tehrill ran alongside the hill, following the footsteps of the children, and then he burst from behind it and stood aghast at what he saw. Nothing else was on his mind but the sight before him. He didn’t know if he was still running or merely standing. For before him was a giant crater, acres wide and a very deep. Lush vegetation filled the crater and overflowed to the outer edge. A stream from the east flowed into the crater and water vapor filled the sky. Seagulls, unfit for eating but would have been greatly accepted by Tehrill and his humble village, dotted the sky and perched on buildings. Yes buildings, for a town was erected in the crater, and it was a strong and fair town. Farms stretched out for miles within it and dominated the eastern edge, while hundreds of small, residential cottages lined up in rows filled the western edge. The southern edge of the crater had parks and large arenas and theaters, and guardhouses and a huge gate that was the craters only entrance and exit. And to the north of the crater a huge castle was erected with towering spires and lofty parapets, with banners and flags draped all around.

“Elhopt…” murmured Tehrill, and he was right. This was the city of Elhopt. The amazement of its splendor was overpowering, but Tehrill regained his control. He could see the entire crater and everything in it from where he was at. The crater was outlined by a very tall and thick stone wall, and the gate was built directly into its southernmost point. The children ran up to the gate quite casually and ran inside. The guards paid little heed to them. Tehrill knew that he must get inside this city and learn what he can. They had crops and meat! Water and beer! They were clean and well fed! Their towns were not destroyed by the fire rain; indeed, it looked as if they had never been hit by the rain at all. What was their secret? How had they managed to build such a stupendous city, all in the short time of two years? How did they find animals to kill, and where did they get seeds to grow crops? Where did the river come from and why did it, out of all other rivers, not dry up into a cracked riverbed? These questions haunted Tehrill and he had to know the answer. He ran towards the city like a gazelle towards a cool spring. His footsteps were so soft that not a charred twig cracked. He was a shadow, an invisible man yet again. His training returned to him. His instincts overpowered him. The past two years seemed like a horrible nightmare, and all he could see was the lush forests and all he could smell was the sweet water. He was nearing the gate now. Two guard towers were erected on either side of the massive gate. The guards did not seem to be particularly alert. Their bows were leaning against the wall and one was yawing. A pack of horses galloped towards the city gate. But wait! There were riders on these horses too. They all entered the city except one, apparently the leader. He dismounted and began talking to one of the guards. Tehrill could not tell what they were saying; his ability to read lips seemed to have disappeared over the years. He crept closer as carefully as he could. He could reach out and touch the city wall now, and he crawled as close to the gate as he dared. He could now make out their conversation.

“…a ways north, but we didn’t see anything,” said the rider to the guard. The guard nodded.
“Aye, I would be quite surprised if anything living existed beyond these walls. But roumers of primitive villages abound within the city, so these scouting parties will continue.”
“I do not see why any person would prefer to live in desolation than come here!” said the rider emphatically. “ Our lady has been quite reasonable about all this. All these people need to do is get the tattoo and they can enter! It doesn’t even hurt.”
“Foolish barbarians, they are, and stubborn to boot!” said the guard angrily. “Those old villains, Baruk, Ishtar and Geren, destroy this world, and what do the people do? They sing songs about them and hail them as heroes. How blind can people be! Our lady has been giving and kind and has provided for us all. She is a true hero, if I ever saw one.”
“We will never understand that primitive sort,” said the rider with a sigh. “Their thinking is not as advanced as ours. I am surprised our lady ever let them join our society. The past two years she has been more than generous, scouting out the lands for any survivors and then inviting them to live in our city. It amazes me that some fools would be so conceited to refuse the mark, and then be executed! But they should be executed, for traitors they truly are. Traitors to our lady and humanity! Oh bother, I can't talk about this any more. Hold on Othlo, I need to relieve myself.”

The rider walked over to the wall, near the gate and began to relieve himself. Tehrill was crouched, hiding right behind him. He didn’t quite understand what he had heard, but he knew that he and his entire village was in trouble. He needed to get inside to check things out. He looked around. Othlo the guard was talking to a fellow guard and no one was near, except the rider. As quick as lightning, Tehrill seized the rider and knocked him unconscious before he could even squeak. Quickly he stripped the rider of his uniform and put it on himself. It was far too big for him for Tehrill was as skinny as a rail, but at least it didn’t fall off. He took off the man's helmet, and it was then that he noticed the mark. On the riders forehead was a tattoo, the size of a thumbnail. It looked like a strange symbol, but it was not ugly. Tehrill looked to the guards and noticed that they too had the symbol tattooed to their foreheads. Then he realized that he had no such symbol on his forehead. Luckily, the rider had worn a full helm, which covered his entire face, and Tehrill swiftly put this on. When he was fully arrayed in the riders uniform and when he had stashed the unconscious rider in some unobservable nook, he confidentially walked in sight of the guards and made for the gate.

“Good work today Karsan, I’ll see you tomorrow” said Othlo the guard. Tehrill nodded and waved, and then disappeared into the city, leaving his town and the worldwide desolation behind him.

-What will Tehrill do inside the city? Why did this one crater, out of all the places on the planet, be the only one with trees and vegetation and even a river?
-Who was the “lady” that Othlo and Karsan talked about?
-Why did everyone have a mark on their foreheads? Why did the city require a mark for admittance?
-What will become of Tehrill's small yet good-natured little village?

[Roneatek]

Re: CWS Archive

(12) by Roneatek

Ol’-purple-eye was seething. This was his mission and he was going to complete it. He had spent too long as a mere outcast, rejected by the Sarneth and never accepted by the elder Nihilore. He did not merely want a seat at the right hand of Urental. He needed it. And this wench Adal was keeping him from fulfilling his task.
Without a word, ol’-purple eye walked away from Lady Adal. She turned to him in shock.
“Are you abandoning your mission?” she asked mockingly, with a hint of eagerness in her voice.
“Not on your life Adal. But it has become clear to me that you can never help me. I am better off alone.” Adal became angry.
“If you leave now, you will never be allowed back into our circle!” she shouted after him, but he just laughed.
“If I have Celeste’s head in my hands, things will be different! Farewell you wretch, you had best pray for the safety of your son!” and he was gone.
“You can never make it without me!” cried the enraged Adal. Her face was bright red in fury. This was not supposed to happen. He was not supposed to be so thick-headed. He was supposed to follow her wishes, not adhere to his own. “She will kill you!” Adal promised, but she was more concerned for Ven.

* * *

“There now,” said Celeste, bandaging up the young boy’s face. “This should heal up soon enough.” Ven said nothing.
“Are you hungry lad?” asked Lucas as he put away the foods he had bought. For the first time in a long while Ven thought about his own needs.
“Actually, yes, I haven’t eaten in m…. days”, he said. Celeste was surprised. The boy had a rather powerful voice for one so young. Lucas cut some bread and slathered some butter over it. He gave Ven a tall glass of water and the slice of bread. Ven took the food and practically inhaled it.
“More,” he said and Lucas grinned.
“My, ye have an appetite fit for a mighty strong lad!” Lucas got to cooking. He took strips of bacon and slices of apple. He mixed some corn with rice chopped up the cooked bacon into the rice.
“Here, nice starchy foods,” said Lucas, handing Ven the giant bowl of food. Ven took the bowl in his hands and in a few minutes, it was empty. Lucas and Celeste looked at him amazed. Ven burped and lay back on the couch, resting. Celeste turned to Lucas.
“I think we may need to get more food next time,” she said and he laughed.
“Bah, the boy and I can go fishing in the morning. Tell me son, do you have a family?” Ven thought about it.
“No, I am alone.”
“Well then, you are more than welcome to stay here for as long as you please. When you are all healed up, you can come and work with me.” Ven frowned at the thought, but he didn’t say anything. After all, his mission was to get close to them in order to kill the girl, and any lie he had to say to do so was quite suitable. Besides, it would all end tonight.
“Sounds fun,” said Ven in faked enthusiasm. He looked out the window. The moon showed its face to the world. It was time.

A large body fell through the roof and it crackled with power. The plaster and wood filled the living room and particles filled the air. Celeste screamed.
“I have come as an emissary of the Sarneth,” said the elder Nihilor through the dust. His voice was aged but powerful and the room resounded with his bass tones. Lucas jumped in front of Celeste and Ven.
“Damn! How did you…” he began, but as the dust settled he saw that it was not the same man he had fired at in the Old City. “Who are you?!” The elder Nihilor laughed.
“There are things in this world that that are older and more powerful than you can possibly imagine,” said the elder Nihilor. He advanced towards Lucas who, though frightened, was unflinching. “We are the ones who rule the nights. We are the ones who ride on the winds. We are the Nihilore! And killing is our task.” He let out an evil laugh.
“Killing eh?” said Lucas, dwarfed in the sight of the mighty Nihilor. “Well you will just have to kill me first. As long as I am alive, you will never touch either of these children!” Ven was stunned. The love, bravery, vengeance and nobility in a man so low as the one before him was amazing. Would he really live up to the words he uttered? They would soon find out. The elder Nihilor regarded Lucas carefully.
“You are brave for a Level 1 scoundrel,” he said, almost impressed. “It is a pity that we hate humans so much. You aren’t all worthless husks. But alas! You shall die tonight. Oh well.” The Nihilor laughed and his cords of power began to flicker. A darkness filled the room and the stench of death was overwhelming. This was an evil darker and deeper than the one Lucas had seen before. The air around them crackled and time stood still.
A wave of darkness shot towards the man, but a wave of light met it. Celeste’s body emanated with an incredible white fire, and it held back the darkness. Lucas, Ven and Celeste were enveloped by the dazzling brilliance. Celeste screamed out of shock. Lucas howled in anger. But Ven shrieked in pain.
It was all around him! This was the power that he had been warned about! Ven clutched his body and trashed about. It burned! It burned! His skin began to bubble and char. The elder Nihilor saw his master writhing in pain and stopped his assault in horror. As soon as his dark blast receded, the fiery whiteness vanished. Ven fell to the floor in agony. His burns were all over. But at least they were not severe.
Suddenly the wall caved in. It was Adar’s Nihilor! Ol’-purple-eye burst into the room and saw the scene before him. Lucas and Celeste were clutching each other. Ven was thrashing about on the floor in pain and the elder Nihilor wore a dumbfounded look. He laughed.
“Ah, were they more than you could handle, you old fool?!” mocked the eager Nihilor. “A darkness and power ages old! And yet this small task is still too much for even you!”
“You know nothing of it, you witless brat,” seethed the elder Nihilor. “I was interrupted, that’s all. I can finish this myself.”
“But you will not have the chance!” shouted the young Nihilor and he lunged at his elder. The two Nihilore clashed together and fell to the ground.
“What are you doing! It is forbidden to fight each other!”
“I will define what is forbidden!” declared the haughty Nihilor and he struck a blow to his elder’s face with a power the elder had never felt before. His cheek opened and his dark blood poured out. But all attempts at restraint left the ancient Sarneth and he gripped the young Nihilor in his iron grasp. Slowly he stood to his feet.
“Are you so careless as to attack one such as myself?” the elder Nihilor cackled evilly. “I was around when we first ruled the underworld! I was a general to thousands of Sarneth! I have seen the very pits of the world and I have been to all its edges. I have killed princes, emperors and kings! I have laid waste to entire cities and dried up the oceans! I am Fangoroth the mighty, Fangoroth the dark and Fangoroth the ancient! A spawnling such as yourself has no power over me. I am eternal!” Fangoroth the Nihilor began to crush the young Nihilor in an iron grasp. It was then that Lucas and Celeste found an opportune time to run.
“Come lad! This has nothing to do with you. Flee with us!” cried Lucas as he and Celeste dashed out the door. Ven looked at the bleeding Nihilor who was his protector. Fangoroth nodded towards his master. Ven understood. He leapt to his feet and dashed after Lucas and Celeste.
But now it was Ol’-purple eye’s turn to laugh. With a mighty kick he threw Fangoroth back. The old Nihilor crashed into the kitchen.
“Hah! So much for the might of the ancients! I am of a new breed of Nihilor, you decrepit fool. How do you think I got here so fast? Not even Adal knew of my full capacity. But now, now I have an opportunity to use it! For I am Ringoroth the devious, Ringoroth the bloodthirsty!” And so the young Nihilor Ringoroth threw his arms forward. Dark coils of evil circled around his outstretched arms. The light bulbs in the house all burst and the furniture trembled. The dark light that emanated from his body illuminated the room in shadows, and it seemed as if the darkest of evils would cower at the sight. But Fangoroth lightly jumped to his feet and caught the dark blast as it issued from the hands of Ringoroth. Fangoroth thrust forward his own power and the two Nihilor engaged in a fierce battle of darkness. The house trembled and fell into pieces, but still the demons fought on.
Lucas, Celeste and Ven could hear the fierce and horrible sounds of battle behind them, but the kept on running. People in their homes were awakened from their slumber, and confusion filled Hithraviel.
“This way!” cried Lucas, and the two children followed him. He leapt over a guard desk and toward a giant metal door.
“Hey thrall, you can’t…” began a guard, but one strike from Lucas’ iron fist silenced him. The giant door was held shut by a steel bar that lay across it. Lucas grasped the bar with his hands and pulled. It screeched and squealed, for it had not been lifted in many years. With all his might, Lucas tugged at the bar, and finally it lifted with a snap. Lucas grasped the edge of the door and pulled. The giant door slowly creaked open, and the three humans ran outside.
And so they were free. They had entered the grasslands beyond Miirmadon. The giant steel city lay behind them as they ran into the wild. They did not turn back.

* * *

Far away, in the middle mountains with no name, a beam of light came from the heavens. It touched the earth lightly, but soon the ground trembled. Rock and clay and earth of all types were ripped from their rest on the mountain, and began to spin together, enveloped by the light. Soon the earth conglomerated and a shape was seen. Flesh and blood and sinews were formed from the earth. A body was chiseled out of these things and stood on the mountain like a monument. It was the body of a man. He had a firm face and finely chiseled features. His hair was long and brown and braided in the back in one long braid. He stood firmly upon the earth, but was not yet alive.
A sparkle, almost too small to be seen, slowly descended from the sky. It came down in the center of the pillar of light, and entered the body. With a violent lurch, he gasped for breath. The light faded and the man fell to his knees. He panted and coughed, then tried to stand. He stumbled but regained his balance. The man opened his eyes for the first time and looked out over the earth from the mountain top. He saw the fields and streams all over the earth. He could see all the cities and all the towns, including a giant metal city, far, far away. He breathed in the mountain air. It was fresh and wonderful to behold.
“So this is what it is like to be human,” uttered the man. He looked at his hands in amazement. He ran across the mountain-top, thrilled by the power of his legs. After a whole he stopped and looked between them.
“Hmmm,” he said. “I think I’ll have to do something about this.” And then he was clothed. Briches of humble design appeared over his legs, and so did a clean but rugged looking shirt. A hooded gray cloak appeard over his head and his his beautiful, long brown hair. In his left hand appeared a crooked staff and in his right hand appeared a mighty sword with a sheath at his side. He looked at the blade lovingly.
“Ah, Sparnel. It is good that I can wield you even as a man. And now for a test…” He looked at a large boulder near him. He outstretched his sword and pointed at the stone.
“Burst!” he commended, and the stone shattered. He looked again and saw a felled tree.
“Burn!” he declared, and the tree burst into flames, being reduced to ashes in mere moments. The man was satisfied.
“Let us now see how the Nihilore are matched against an Illuminateth!” said the man with a stern and powerful voice. “Never have they fought with us, and never have they seen our power. But now that I can carry a human body, and can walk the world of men with authority over it as they have. I, Aerindel, steward of the house of the Illiminateth, shall fly against the Nihilor with the authority of a man and the power of an eternal!” Aerindel sheathed his sword Sparnel and walked off the mountain. But something startled him. To the east his head looked, and his all seeing eyes pierced through the air. After a moment he frowned.
“Celeste…” he said, and he broke out into a run. Out of the mountains Aerindel came, and he entered the world of men to counter the powers of darkness.