NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: THIS IS A CLOSED RP, ONLY OPEN TO THE ONES WHO HAVE SIGNED UP HERE (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=360017).)

In an underground cavern in a land far away, known as Velmora, the swordmaster known as Lance Crusade struggled to put himself in order, as he and his allies fought against a menagrie of opponents. In the middle of the battle, Lance abruptly halted his attacks, stopping suddenly, as the vibrations in his right arm paused. The Sword of Cala unexpectedly lost its golden glow, as the six spirits dissolved returning to whence they came. Like a statue, Lance stood motionless in the abyss, seemingly frozen to his spot. But he was not frozen, merely concentrating his nearly limitless energy upon quieting the demon that slowly stirred maliciously within his soul…

Inside Lance’s mind and body, turmoil reigned supreme, as Lance struggled to control his reawakened draconic soul, which raged for blood and chaos. With deep concentration, Lance had so far managed to keep that dangerous power within from taking over, but it was evident on Lance’s face that he was fighting a losing battle. I must not fail... For failure will be destruction of everything... This draconic soul was released once before, a catastrophic release that brought this world to the edge of destruction... I must not fail... I must not fear, for fear is the mind killer... I must abolish my fear, for fear will bring about my failure...

With single-minded concentration, Lance slowly forced the draconic soul to calm down. He knew that if he could control it, everything that he could work towards would be lost, an unbearable and intolerable that would destroy the very fiber of his existence. I must and will not fail… With a roar of defiance, Lance regained control over his soul, quelling the devastating power within. Wearily raising his head, Lance slowly regained his senses, becoming aware of the battle still raging around his. With a weary shake of his head, Lance raised his right arm, bringing the Sword of Cala up, as he once more prepared to enter the fray. Praying deeply that this time, he would not fall victim to the insanity that had almost gripped him, both of Lance’s hands began to smolder, while the sword once more began to glow with an eerie golden light. Within moments, a brilliant, multi-colored flame sparked into being from both of Lance’s hands, a burning fire fueled by Lance’s will and his soul.

Suddenly, a chilling thought occurred to Lance, the full circle has come… With growing horror, Lance stopped again. Continuing once more with downcast eyes, Lance brought the Sword of Cala before him and slowly gripped it with his two hands. With a weary sigh, Lance raised the Sword of Cala above his head and with a deafening cry of rage and resignation, Lance released his hands from the sword, allowing it to hover freely above him. Dropping his hands to perpendicular of his body, like a cross, Lance roared like a dragon.

With a flash of brilliant light, the Sword of Cala emitted a powerful blast energy that seemed to permeate the entire abyss below the world above, a permeation of a powerful nature that seemed to freeze everything, but not quite. Slowly, the sword descended from the air and stopped in front of Lance’s face, as the power dissipated. Closing his eyes, Lance gripped the sword with his two hands, leaving the sword in its position. Opening his eyes, Lance stared straight at the battle raging between Sigrun, Zan, Izual, and the amalagation of wraiths. With a smile of confidence, Lance narrowed his eyes, releasing his left hand from the sword as he dropped both arms to his side, the Sword of Cala still gripped tightly in his right hand. As he slowly walked towards the two embattled warriors, Lance’s hand began to vibrate, a powerful vibration that eerily hummed in the abyss, a distracting hum like the power before, seemed to permeate everything.

Stopping about two meters from the embattled combatants, Lance stopped, as his eyes gradually and inexplicably began to glow. Soon an unnatural golden glow as emanated from the eyes, as the pupils and irises disappeared. Unbeknownst to even himself, Lance had fallen into the power of the destructive draconic soul that he had so wearily tried to suppress. And without distinction between friend and foe, Lance lashed out, his sword ringing through the air, as he struck with unforeseen brutality and speed against the Sigrun, Zan, Izual, and the wraiths...

And then a flash of light filled the air, as Kain Shentavo, the exile defeated his father and restored Velmora...

With a roar of confusion, Lance sprang up out of the underground cavern, boring his way easily through the solid bedrock. Appearing like a missile, Lance flew into the air, landing hard upon the ground, as everything blanked out.

When Lance came to again, he found that he was in a new land, far, far away from Velmora and his home. With a weary sigh, Lance sighed, his mind comprehending for the first time his actions. Having allowed himself to fall within the power of his draconic soul, Lance resolved to complete his life... Already over two thousand years old, Lance realized that he was weary of his life, a life not filled with pleasure or happiness, but filled with sadness, grief, and loss. With finality, Lance looked down serenely upon the Sword of Cala. In a quiet voice, Lance began to speak. "It is over... My life has slowly begun to wind down... My existence will cease as I go finally to join my ancestors, my son, my wife, and fallen bygone friends... But for now, I must say a lasting farewell and pass on my final knowledge and ability to a new generation... I must PASS THE TORCH!"

Tag!

OOC: Tagged with elven magic!

<Tag> for reading.

In a shattered corner of the world, Lance Crusade began his mediations, his mind wandering as he prepared himself for his journey around the world, a quest that Lance viewed as essential before completing his life, a task to pave his way into a well deserved rest. His eyes closed, Lance's mind began to float, drifting from place to place, as he contemplated his past.

In this imperfect world that we mortals live up, mistakes, wrong decisions have been frequently made, exacerbating the devastating situation within this plane... All life ends... My existence of more than two thousand years has been an anomaly... A major blight upon this world... Something that should be corrected... However, in this world, there are no easy answers, Just short term solutions that lead to long term problems... My decision must not be hasty, for I still possess enough wisdom to last for eternity... Before my parting from the inhabitants of this world, a journey will be undertaken... A path to take around the world and meet those of a new generation to impart a lesson to bring them into the future... This is my duty. A task that I will never shirk from... Yet alas, I am weary of life... Weary of existence...

Slowly opening his eyes, Lance stood suddenly, his head rising as he glared at the rising sun. With a soft smile, Lance began his journey, his first destination to meet with a new friend, Sigrun, who Lance believed would be a pivotal being for the future ahead, a promising member of a new generation... Although, Lance knew that Sigrun was the reincarnation of the elven vampire Maximus Destroi, Lance through his experience and his understanding of mortal nature knew that he was still not ready for his life...

With a heavy heart and determination to complete his task before his final departure, Lance began to walk, heading towards a meeting with Sigrun...

He approaches...

Who does?

An old friend. His time is near.

How do you know?

It is written in the rings of trees, in the stars. Soon, a blight of the world will be purged, and the world takes just one more step toward perfect purity. Such is the way of the Akilado, the Cycle. Little by little--

--the world is removed from impurity. I know the Akilado, Sigrun. You needn't recite what is taught to us at a young age.

I know. Yet he will be glad to be relieved of his role in life. I wonder who he will entrust to fill his shoes? Few, if any are fit for such a destiny.

You say he approaches. What are the possibilities that he's coming to see you about just that?

It's possible, but I wouldn't consider myself worthy of such a destiny. However, I cannot fortell my own future, so twisted and confusing my life has been, which in turns does the same to my future.

We shall see, we shall see...

Sigrun opened his eyes as he ceased the telepathic communication with Arleni, his Elven cousin and fellow warrior. His thoughts went back to when he had last seen his old friend, Lance Crusade. It had been during a time of turmoil, turmoil caused by Arithon, at the Heroes Graveyard, known as the Circle of Swords. Then, Lance had seemed indestructible, and passionate about his life's purpose. Sigrun had admired that passion that drove Lance through the neverending days, months, years of his life...

Sigrun stretched and yawned as he remained perched upon the bough of a large tree in the forest. Hidden from sight, yet still there, he remained as he drifted off to sleep. He wasn't sure how long Lance would be before he arrived, but he knew that Lance would be capable of finding him. No physical clues were left below or around him to indicate his presence, so skilled was he at stealthy concealment.

Lance Crusade trekked doggedly on through the harsh climates of the various lands as he moved towards the lush forests, bound for a carefree land... As he traveled, Lance began to harden, his emotions wasting away in the cacophany of his environment, his surroundings, annilihated by a coldness that descended upon Lance's being. With grace, Lance moved, never stopping to rest, to eat, or to drink. Traveling like a man haunted, Lance moved rapidly, unceasingly, an endless journey towards his destiny...

Finally after a weary trek of many days, Lance arrived in the home of Sigrun, formerly known as Maximus. As his sharp and cold eyes scrutinized his new surroundings, Lance sighed, a sigh that filled the forest. As his eyes shut in final contemplation, Lance steeled himself for the painful memories that were surfacing. As his eyes opened again, a pair of brilliant eyes appeared, sorrowful and weary, as they gazed passively out, eating in the details of the surroundings.

As he slowly calmed himself, allowing his emotions to dissolve away, Lance raised his head and stared calmly at the noon sun. With a roar filled with both anger and sorrow, Lance sat down into a meditative pose as he once more began his contemplations and his meditations...

Sigrun opened his eyes as a roar filled the forest, before dying away. He sat up and looked downward to the forest floor searching. He saw nothing.

He got up and began to move silently from tree to tree, searching downwards. After about a dozen trees, he halted as he laid his eyes upon a seated figure, obviously in meditation.

Lance Crusade.

Sigrun ran a hand through his hair momentarily before descending silently and stood before Lance. He grinned slightly as he observed Lance's calm demeanor.

"Mae govannen, Lance Crusade."

Sigrun stood before Lance, clothed in the typical clothing of Lorien elves and covered with a lightweight, yet durable and strong Elven armor. Also, he was armed with Lanta and his bow, both of which were secured and of no threat to Lance.

Without rising from his position or glancing at Sigrun, Lance maintained his meditative position, his eyes closed and his mind drifting. With a start, Lance's journeying thoughts returned back to the present and Lance slowly opened his sorrowful eyes, glinting softly from the light of the sun. With a light smile, Lance regarded Sigrun. In a wary voice giving full expression of Lance's weariness, he said, "Ish Inu Alah, Master Elf... It has been some time since we last saw each in the blasted lands of Velmora..."

Standing up gracefully, Lance slowly stretched, his limbs sore from the moment of inactivity. "I have come first, to apologize for my conduct in the abyss below Velmora. I allowed an inner soul to take over my very being, putting you and other members of the party in jeopardy. My conduct is beneath that of a swordmaster and is a blight upon my honor and my beliefs." Stopping, Lance bowed, a mark of respect and sorrow for Sigrun.

With wistful eyes, Lance gazed with tired and teary eyes at his friend. "But alas, that is not the only reason of my visit. As you should have felt in your lands, time is growing short... A prophecy spoken long ago will be finally fulfilled... My weary existence will finally end..."

For the first time in more than two thousand years, Lance felt acutely his exhaustion... "Before you question me, let me explain... When the Dragonlords first established their rule in the east, cutting out a kingdom based upon their power and supported by the dragons of old, a prophecy was made... A prophecy that told of the eventual disappearance of the fabled dragons and the collapse of the kingdom... In addition, it speaks of a warrior that is not a Dragonlord, but whose power will eclipse any other that will ever grace our world... And upon his death, the balance of this world will tilt... I am the being prophecied... I have eclipsed the power accumulated by my dead friend, Omnus Stormrider, with my ability, strength, and wisdom than all the Dragonlords combined... But my time is short... For I will soon fade away... But, I cannot depart without leaving something for the future, giving hope to those that will soon be deprived of all else... For I am the last being of a dying age... The future is uncertain... And you, Sigrun, will be one of those who will partake in its defense..."

Sigrun bowed respectfully in response.

"Indeed, you have been a powerful one in this world. For long years, you have stood, a stablizing force in the chaos of the universe. The stars tell of your exploits, the trees whisper of your courage and strength. Lesser creatures cringe at the sound of your name. Indeed mellon, you are known to many."

Sigrun glanced around, noticing the presence of a small number of other elves, whom had arrived to investigate the powerful presence they had sensed. They remained hidden from sight.

Return to your posts. This is Lance Crusade, eternal friend and ally of mine.

Sigrun faced Lance once again, "As for your conduct in Velmora, indeed it was a sad event, but it is something that didn't cause death of any of your allies. Have no shame of what lies in you. It is strong, and untamed, even after all this time. It is a part of you."

Sigrun held his arm out to Lance and pulled him gently, "Come, let us walk. Tell me some more of this arrangement you are preparing. Who else do you seek?"

Allowing Sigrun to guide him, Lance began to walk gracefully, his long strides smoothly eating up the distance. In a low voice, Lance began to partake his quest. "In my two thousand years of existence, I have encountered many beings of great power and ability, able to perform seemingly impossible tasks... These beings are the ones that I seek..."

Pausing briefly to collect his thoughts, Lance continued. "The time has finally come for a new generation of champions to take up the burdens that the aging and dying heroes of the past have cast down... I am the last of the old generation, while you are one of many of the new one... The responsibility that you and the others will shoulder is a grave one, for it is the weight of the entire mortal plane... Right now, I must seek the ones who will step in and perform this wearisome task... You, Sigrun, are one of them... Although you're power is tremendous and can only grow with time, you are lacking in ancient techniques that have been passed through the generations... Before I depart, you will be one of the last to receive the secrets of the dragons..."

Sigrun halted as Lance spoke the last words. Lance looked at him with a slightly curious look.

"If that is your wish, then I will comply. However, I must correct you on one thing. You say I lack ancient techniques. I say you're wrong, for I possess the knowledge of the Lothlorien Elves, knowledge that stretches back to the beginnings of history, and even beyond that."

Sigrun resumed his walk, "However, I must say that although I have this, it limits me to only what it can address. Your techniques are foreign to me, yet somewhat familiar. I will gladly study under you to learn something that can only benefit me...and the world."

The two fell into silence once more, the sounds of the forest breaking the silence with the life of it's inhabitants. Birds could be heard crying cheerfully softly to one another.

"However, you have yet to answer my second question. WHO else do you plan to pass on this knowledge, this task? Perhaps I may be of assistance in some way."

Seemingly distracted, Lance spoke hurriedly. "Yes, yes... There is the techniques that you've inherited from the elves of this fair land..." Turning around, Lance began to walk off by himself, contenting himself with seeing, smelling, hearing, and touching of a wholly unfamiliar environment. With a sigh of weariness, Lance once more began to speak. "I have not compiled a list of those who are suitable to join the ranks of the heroes and champions of the future. The only people that I have thought of are my great-grandson Aero Crusade and you, Maximus Destroi... The others will be found in my travels throughout this world and if you are to assist me, then my task will be immeasurably easier... It has been over two hundred years since I last set foot upon this world and much has changed... Your assistance will be most helpful."

Slowly, Lance turned, a look of worry etched upon his face, as he muttered silently to himself. What a waste... To think that such a impatient fool has inherited a technique that is as old as time itself... But I will use him to complete my task and allow him to make a place for himself in the pantheon of heroes of the future. Omnus Stormrider, old friend, I only wish you were here to assist me... But I am left without your guidance...

Turning back to face Sigrun, Lance looked serenely at Sigrun's face and sighed heavily, a tear gliding slowly down Lance's worn handsome face. "Maximus Destroi. Let us begin your instruction with a discussion of philosophy..." Without another word, Lance sat down at the base of a great tree, waiting for Sigrun to speak his piece...

Bumpage for Tarlachia.

OOC: Sorry, I've been really busy lately, and will continue to be because of work and school time requirements... However, I'll post as frequently as possible...

IC:
"A typical request from you, Lance. It is by these intellectual discussions you judge others, and perhaps in a way, rightly so. Yet who is to say what is the correct philosophy to follow? Is it not possible that we have followed the wrong ones all along? Who has the right to judge what is correct and what is not?..."

Sigrun sat down next to Lance, his eyes surveying his friend's worn look.

He looks...old...as if he's ready to give up...

With a wry smile, Lance regarded the elf, a small twinkle in his eyes as he spoke. "Ah yes... The neverending question of which philosophy to adhere to. Your question strikes at the very point that has become a battle point for many years."

Taking a deep breath, Lance slowly spread his arms out and with a disarming smile continued. "In truth, philosophy does nothing more than attempt to answer the questions in life that we cannot answer, trying to unlock the secrets of life and codes of behavior with which to live by. Philosophy is nothing more than one more dead end in our mortal lives... However stupid and incorrect, philosophy is very important for it provides a great way to understand the thinking of mortals and their view on the cosmic events that indirectly affect them."

With a slight shake of his head, Lance stared into the elf's head and laughed softly, as he noticed the odd look in the elf's eyes. He thinks I am old... That I have no more will to live on... With a bright smile that served to hide his weariness, Lance addressed Sigrun. "But I digress." Pausing, Lance smiled mischievously. "In your mind, what defines age? When is a mortal 'old'?"

Sigrun replied, all the while looking around the forest at the trees.

"In this world, age isn't determined by the passing of time, but by the frame of one's mind. One can be twenty years old, and yet feel like a thousand years old or one can be a thousand years old and still feel like a twenty year old. Myself, I am over a thousand and three hundred years, yet I still feel as if I were only in my mid thirties."

Sigrun looked back at Lance with a wry smile, "And what about you? What do you think is the answer to your own question? How old do you percieve yourself to be?"

Lance Crusade chuckled as he listened to listened to Sigrun answer his seemingly rhetorical question. Sighing deeply, Lance replied quietly. "It appears that I am in my mid-thirties, but I have existed for more than two thousand years, wrung out as time passes much faster in the Timeless Realms where I was trapped. So it can be said that I am more than five thousand years old... Mentally, I have acquired the knowledge of more than ten millenia, knowledge collected in more than a eighty thousand generations..."

Closing his eyes, Lance muttered angrily. "I have experienced much in my life." Taking a breath to calm himself, Lance opened his eyes once more. "What philosophy do you follow? What creed is important in your eyes?"

Sigrun thought back to his early years on the Earth, of his brashness and arrogant life. How he had been wrong about so many things then!

Yet, he had learned his errors...

"My creed has changed over the years. Once, I believe that I only had to care for myself. I destroyed the world around me, save for a few things of importance to me.

As I lay dying not too long ago, it finally became clear to my where I was wrong. All I destroyed earlier, was a necessary part of all of our existences. We all play a part in the world's events, from simply stopping to look at one butterfly, which in effect causes another path of reality to open up. If I had not taken the butterfly option, I would have continued along my path as always. To clarify, I realized that the more destruction I created, the more destroyed the world became, the worse off all of us were.

It is like a spider web, one that has many paths, and has many paths leading from each connecting point. Each point shown is a choice we are presented with, and thus the outcoming results are represented by each thread leading away from that point."

Sigrun pulled out a lembras bread and broke it equally, offering half to Lance. He took his half and began to munch upon it, tasting and savoring the sweet taste and feeling the rather invigorating energy it seemed to give him. He continued,

"That is why I became Elf. To focus more on what I had been missing out on. To become a healer and not a destroyer. However, like the state of matter that cannot be created nor destroyed, so is the spirit. I still retain parts of my old self, my destructive self. So, in essence, some may call me a Dark Elf."

***A big kick in the thread's arse to the top of the list!***

Lance shook his head sadly, as he swiftly changed the subject. In a quiet voice, Lance intoned a short litany. "For those who know where to look, the past produces clear indications for us to follow in our journey into the future... However, now as we turn around to gaze at the remote past, we can barely catch sight of it, so imperceptible has it become. But, the march of civilization is a constant succession of achievements and setbacks, always proceeding uphill... Adversity may make us stronger, but it does not make us happier..."

Sigrun took another bite of his lembras, savoring it's taste with his tongue before swallowing it.

"Change begets change, either good or bad. Either you learn from it, or run from it. Either way, a scar is place upon the world, and upon ourselves. How one treats the changes will determine their survival."

In a quiet voice that slowly built up with intensity, Lance spoke. "Ah, you speak of change, but do you undertand them? Do you understand the intricate weave that binds our world together? Do you understand the balance that exists in our world? Do you understand the consequences of the destruction of such a balance?"

Without pausing to allow Sigrun to reply, Lance continued, "The balance has shifted... The light have had an advantage for many millenia, especially with the long servitude of the epitome of the balance that exists, Xuanyu... Although the death of Omnus Stormrider and the end of Xuanyu's servitude have tilted the balance more in line of what it should be, no balance will really exist without my death..."

Sigrun looked carefully at Lance's face.

"I see. So you are the one force that continues to hold the Darkness at bay, and you wish to establish a force of other beings that will take your place to maintain the balance, although it may be more equal."

Sigrun nodded understandingly, "Indeed, you are faced with a complex issue."

Lance shook his head sadly, as he regarded Sigrun and with a mournful tone, spoke. "No I am not... I am the impediment to the balance that this mortal plane requires... My existence hampers all possibilities of a balance returning to its equilibrium..." Blinking, Lance continued. "As long as I am alive, the balance will never reach its equilibrium... Thus, I must die... The full circle of swords will come into being as I lay down my arms and pass into the realm of the dead, leaving forever the mortal plane... But... I cannot yet die... Although each day is torture, attempting to survive the onslaughts of those seeking to hasten the balancing of light and darkness, I will endure to leave you and others with my knowledge..."

Pausing sadly, Lance sighed, a heavy sound that failed to dissipate in the air, hanging remorsely, its suffocation evident and threatening. "The time has come for me to teach you an ability that will permit you never to miss once you master it..."

As Lance rose from the ground, the sigh dissipated. Grimacing from some internal injury, Lance moved stiffly to the clearing of the forest and turned, gazing back at Sigrun and closed his eyes, meditating for the display of his techniques...

Sigrun, now his attention fully commanded by Lance's words, stood to face his friend.

"I am ready."

Lance Crusade smiled wryly as he prepared himself for the methods that he would display to Sigrun. Time passed swiftly as Sigrun waited patiently for Lance to begin. Just as Sigrun was beginning to fidget and squirm from the inaction, Lance began his virtuoso performance. Just as Sigrun blinked, the scabbard and sword exploded from Lance’s back and levitated into the air, floating tranquilly above Lance. With great agility, Lance ascended into the air and grasped the sheathed sword. With a muttered prayer, Lance began to divide the scabbard and sword in two. As two swords formed from the illusion that Lance had created, Lance descended down to the earth, holding two sheathed swords.

In a quiet voice that was barely audible, Lance began to describe the history of his two weapons. “In the course of history, there have been many weapons of great renown, serving their owners as weapons of war, of peace, and of victory… All of them have become immortalized in the songs, the stories, and the legends that have been created to memorialize fallen heroes and legendary warriors, peacemakers, among others… Alas, I am never to become a hero, although my weapons will be immortalize as family heirlooms of my house…” Pausing briefly, Lance gazed at the sheathed sword clutched tightly in his right hand. “This sword has been in my family for thousands of years since the beginning of time… The Sword of Cala, a virtually indestructible weapon created for the sole purpose of war, created as a symbol of the might of the House of Cala… It has been personal sword for more than two thousand years…” As he finished, Lance sighed as he turned to the sheathed sword held loosely in his left hand. “This weapon is poison… Known as the Heaven’s Will, it was created by the gods to destroy its wielder… Although over the years, I have not succumbed to the power of such a deadly weapon, it has taken its toll…”

“Over the course of history, there have been ten weapons that have been created by to the gods as beacons, allowing mortals to transcend their own meager abilities… Five of these weapons were destroyed eons ago, in the first confrontations between the light and darkness… Of the other five, I know of the existence of four of them: the Sword of Cala, Heaven’s Will, the Brightblade, and the Hellblade. Of these, two are no more, one more will be destroyed, ground to dust, while the last will one exist to the end of time… Within a year, another weapon will appear on this earth… It must not fall in the hands of evil… You will know when it will appear, for it will cause an uproar beyond anything that has ever been witnessed. But I digress… I came to instruct you in the sacred arts of a swordmaster, not to teach you history…”

Without another word, Lance slammed the sheathed Heaven’s Will sword into the ground, causing vibrations in the ground. With a roar, its tone inflected with all of his anger and frustration mixed in with his love and his hope, Lance sprang into action, unsheathing the Sword of Cala, concentrating on massive vibrations in his right arm. As the entire arm and the sword disappeared into a blur, Lance leapt into the air, spinning like a whirlwind, displaying the art of the first technique of a new sword style known as the Prancing Dragon, Strike of the Infinite Swords…

Sigrun listened carefully as Lance spoke of the histories of some things in the world, and his prediction of others that had yet to pass. His memory was excellent, a notable trait of Elves, though sometimes a curse. Finally, Lance began his demonstration, causing Sigrun to carefully follow his every move, his every step, his every swing of the Sword of Cala. Although Lance moved swiftly, precisely; Sigrun was still able to follow his movments and learn from the ancient master. He did not miss a beat, a single step in the demonstration, his attention entirely focused upon Lance.

A new technique. It shall prove quite useful upon my mastering of the art. I wonder if he will be willing to teach me the remaining arts?

With a flash of great light, Lance Crusade stopped spinning in the air, hovering motionless in the air, as if frozen. Then within a blink of the eye, Lance moved once more, the Sword of Cala weaving and twirling through the air expertly, as Lance spun gracefully in the air. Like a brilliant dance of sunlight, the movements of the Sword of Cala was dazzling and mesmerizing. As he displayed his techniques, Lance spoke. “The second technique, Sword Dance of Redemption.” Just as suddenly he began to capably wield his sword, Lance spun around backwards, swinging his sword at a great speed, creating a massive, chaotic shockwave along with a brilliant flash of incandescent light streaming forward. As the thunderclap dissipated into nothingness, Lance descended slowly to the ground, his eyes closed, his back to Sigrun.

As his feet settled once more on the ground, Lance sighed mournfully, as he raised his head, gazing calmly into the sunlight. Slowly, Lance’s irises disappeared replayed by an eerie golden glow that cackled with powerful energy, leaping hither and thither. Turning slowly, Lance faced Sigrun, his eyes seemingly alight with a burning golden flame, a sinister sight that chilled the hearts of all who saw it...

Sigrun stood there, slightly modest-feeling as he recreated in his mind what he has just seen merely moments before. Finally, he noticed Lance looking toward him, obviously waiting for a response.

"Lance, I am beginning to understand now why your master chose you as his successor. You are indeed a being of great self control and a large capacity for strength."

In regards to the techniques just demonstrated, Sigrun replied, "I will master the techniques in time, my friend. Rest assured."

As suddenly as it came, the golden light disappeared from Lance's eyes, the irises and pupils returning to normal, as Lance reacted to Sigrun's biting words... A stab of pain greeted Lance's return to normalcy. With glaring eyes filled with a sense of betrayal and mourning, Lance gazed at Sigrun. In a low mournful voice, filled with the pain and agony that he was feeling, Lance spoke. "I am not the heir to my master. I am my own man. My master disowned me because I refused to adhere to an oath to always battle evil in all its incarnations. I did not and never will believe that anything is wholly evil... But master was adamant. I was only saved by my wife. My beautiful wife intervened and allowed me to live. I am not my master's heir, but I am the heir to what the dragons have taught mortals..."

Biting his bottom lip until blood flowed, Lance began to cry. As the salty tears streamed down his worn face, Lance closed his eyes... "Alas, there is no time for you to master the two techniques I have just displayed... A creature stalks me yet and will arrive soon... My time swiftly draws to a close, but I am not ready to meet finally my maker yet..."

(OOC: He's going to leave, but it would be best if you would travel with him...)

Sigrun looked remorseful at his error as he saw the pain in his friend's eyes.

"I'm sorry. You're right...you really have made a name for yourself, a name that stands apart and perhaps even better than your own master's. Forgive me of my error, my friend."

Sigrun watched the tears flow down the cheeks of the legendary Lance Crusade. He felt agitated, for he couldn't do anything in reality to stop them.

"Whatever the creature may be, I pledge my sword and skills to your defense. It is the least I can do for what you have decided to bestow upon me."

Scowling heavily and composing himself, Lance closed his eyes, as he bit down his rising exasperation. With a heart-wrenching sigh, Lance reopened his eyes and regarded Sigrun. "Maximus, my foe is not anyone that can be faced with anything but trepidation and foreboding. For my foe is a paradox, a hypocrite that should never have been born... You know of his existence, for you were there when he was released from his prison. He is Xuanyu, master of both sides of the coin. Few can stand against him. Even in my weakened state of a lack of concentration and unwillingness to cause more havoc and destruction, I am more than a match for Xuanyu. But alas, I fear that I will be defeated not by ability, but by the fact that I lack the will to live." Pausing briefly, Lance collected his thoughts and continued bitterly. "I must complete the quest that I have undertaken."

Extending his left hand, Lance asked the question that burned on his mind. "We must leave immediately for stealth and speed are our allies against our enemy. Will you come with me?"

Sigrun nodded in understanding about Lance's foe. I've got to keep my mouth shut, he keeps getting pissed at me...

"Yes, I will go with you."

Sigrun stood and followed Lance silently.

(OOC I really wish to join this thread, but I do not want to enter it with a cliched method. Possibly, considering the number of times your characters has saved Kain, could you not call upon him for a favour of arms? Kain would be much obliged, and at the very least teleport to meet both of you.)

((OCC:I'm also intersted in how I can join in. After all, my character is not anywhere near as powerful as Lance or Kain. (Yup, I'm using Enigma again.) Oh well, I'll think of something.))

(OOC: Sure thing, Velmora. I’ll have my character come to your nation and find Kain. Although, this won’t turn out to have as much fighting, as some of my ill-fated previous role-plays, there will be some tough battles. The ending of the role-play unfortunately is set with the death of my character, but the journey in itself is still static. Next Destination: Velmora. Ravea, just role-play your character meeting Sigrun and Lance somewhere on the road to Velmora.)

With a curt nod to Sigrun, Lance began to move, his broad strides swiftly eating up the distances as he traveled away from the forests of Tarlachia, to a land that he had so abruptly left weeks or months before. Lance was returning to Velmora, to meet with his great friend, Kain Shentavo, for an apology and a final reunion before Lance’s journey towards the gates of death…

(OOC Velmora is an isolated island, with highly trecharious waters, and snowy skies this time of the year. Velmora is an extremely isolated place. best bet is to contact Kain through thought, and ask for passage into Velmora. That way, mages can calm the seas or skies, and maybe even get you here by magical means.

That way, the rp can extend to Velmora and my other characters can meet you and possibly join. Like Ragnarathon, a good freind of Kain's.

A half human, half gold dragon. A lover of books and history, with a little arcane skill, some skill with the short sword, and a knightly manner. A character which I want to get involved more with threads.)

(OOC Bump?)

(OOC: Sorry about my hiatus... I've been busy with college applications and all :( )

As the Lance and Sigrun traveled, winding their way through the different trails and pathways as they headed towards the lands known as Velmora, a desolate land, rebuilding after a disastrous civil conflict. As the two old friends traveled, they talked infrequently, choosing instead silence. As the two warriors neared Velmora, Lance began to communicate with his friend, Kain Shentavo.

Ish Inu Alah, old friend. It has been some time since we last talked, amidst the ravages of your land. I now seek passage to your land, so that we speak one last time, before I am called to the grave...

A wee bump for Kain...

((Time To Join In!))

An older man sat in a forest eating a large, scaly trout over a crakling fire. It was pitch dark outside as he devoured the fish hastily. The man had a long, rigid staff in his hand topped with a silver orb, as well as a Stick Katana tied onto his waist. He had short graying black hair and a pale, yet fair face, And was clothed in what looked like a flowing green robe over a loose black tunic and slacks. He looked mabey fourty or fourty-five; In reality he was more than two millenia old. Long life was a valuble gift, especially when given to you by elves.

The man paused in his eating, and looked up. There was a massive power nearby. What could it be? He hadn't sensed something this big since...No. It couldn't be.....Lance Crusade? But the Aura was diffrent from Lance's. Either Lance was nearby and was very changed, or there was somthing roving around with just as much energy as Lance.

The man had become quite the Magus over the years; He cast a simple compass spell to direct him towards the massive energy, then conjured up a bright light on his staff to guide him through the darkness.

Two Days Later
---------------
The man panted as he stopped to snack on a piece of Lembas bread. A bite was enough to rejuvinate him; he was back on his feet now. After two days of almost non-stop running, he had finally reached the massive power that had been beckoning to him. It seemed to pull him in; It was something he could not resist. The man was farmiliar with the area around him; He was drawing close to the boarders of Velmora, or so he thought.

Suddenly, the massive energy tugged at his mind. He could feel it....So close.....There!

The man stumbled out of the woods onto a well-beaten trail, gasping and tired. There were two people on it: One The man did not recognize; The other he knew quite well.

"Hello, Lance." Enigma said quietly. "How are things?"

Sigrun has sensed the approach of the magus from a distance, his passage in the wild as loud as a dump truck rumbling past a small house. Until the magus had arrived, he had simply not acknowledged the presence, instead allowing it a chance to prove itself on its own danger.

When the voice spoke, Sigrun immediately turned toward it, his face calm and composed. He studied the being before him, his clothing, his features, his magic aura that surrounded him. Yet, he remained silent, for it was not he that the magus had addressed. Sigrun smelled the faint yet sweet smell of lembas and raised his chin slightly in response. The bread of his kind, the elves.

As Sigrun studied the man before him, he turned his mind inward, the onslaught of several memories beckoning for his attention:

"Do you remember why you have been chosen, Maximus?"
"You never did clarify that, my sire."
"Actually, I have, indirectly speaking. Nevetheless, I shall clarify it now. I chose you to become my fledgling fifty six years ago because of who you are. You are a rare one, I can sense, a being of an ancient order if I may be so bold to say. You hold yourself to an ancient code of honor, of respect...yet, I'm afraid I cannot tell you exactly why or how I know this. I just know."
"Perhaps there is more for me, Skadi. But for now, I must simply exist as I am, a vampire."
"A wise creed you live by, my young one. Live each day for itself, and worry not of the past nor the future."

Sigrun blinked as he brought himself back to the present. He had been wrong then, at least as far as his creed had been. It was ultimately necessary to be concerned about the past and the future. All tied into one existence, all had consequences of the other. He had learned this the hard way, by his own death not too long ago.

Sometimes, he wished he still retained the vampiric fangs that he once had. Then, he had been a brutal adversary of any being and few could match his strength. But time had a strange way of mellowing oneself. And in that sense, he didn't really mind either, for he had gained wisdom, knowledge that surpassed the ages.

Sigrun looked over at Lance as he thought of him next. Lance seemed to be stuck in a void of existence, between the rash brutality of young warriors, and the calm, wizened existence of older warriors. Perhaps that is what made him so dangerous, and yet exotic in a sense. Lance's mind was troubled, his soul seemed to be torn in several directions, unable to center itself and fortify as one soul. It almost seemed that Lance had two souls, and this became more apparent, every time Lance went into battle.

Sigrun turned his attention back to the other one, the magus who had approached. Now he would discreetly study the aura of this one, try to determine his true alignment, his power...

Yet, through this all, it seemed that Sigrun appeared to be displaying amazing calmness, as if nothing could bother him...

Lance Crusade's thoughts were not on the journey that he and Sigrun had embarked on nor was he focused on his coming doom. Instead, he was thinking about the past, still mourning the death of his son, his wife, and the maiming of his grandson.

Too much time has past... Two thousand years... I have live more than thirty lifetimes, enduring events beyond any human stamina and fortitude. My immortality weighs heavily upon my shoulders... Too many allies and friends have passed away as I soldiered on... Omnus Stormrider is dead, killed by the hypocrite, Xuanyu... Armad Delaz has passed away, surrendering himself to old age... Maximus was killed on the battlefield, only to resurrected... My son fell at my feet, while I stood helpless... Nay... I cannot bear all the pain... The agony that I feel.

As his mind wandered, Lance Crusade continued walking... Suddenly, Enigma stepped forward and confronted Lance and Sigrun. Lance Crusade started when Enigma appeared. As he attempted to rebuild his shattered composure, Lance Crusade stepped backwards, his eyes blinking.

Enigma!?! What!?! Here!?!

A few minutes passed before Lance could regain his composure. And with more self-assurance, Lance stepped forward and bowed, reciting calmly the words, "I protect and serve..."

Rising from his bow, Lance proferred his hand, as he spoke. "Enigma, well met... It has been years since we last met. How long has it been since the Blood Goblet? How long has it been since we battled against the demonlord Hezekiel?"

"T'was about...Over two thousand years ago? Or was it more? My memory is more foggy than would like it to be." Enigma frowned and rubbed his head. "I thought about going after the Blood Goblet by myeslf after we all parted ways, but figured that it was too much trouble." He winked and broke off another small piece of Lembas bread, savoring its taste. He gestured towards his staff with his eyes.

"As you might be able to tell, I have advanced greatly in the art of Magic. I have ascended to the rank of a Master Magus in the Wizards Federation of the Otherworldly Arts." He gave a wide grin. "But don't think I have lost my touch with a blade."

"I was drawn here by your energy...Or rather, His energy," He continued, nodding at Sigrun hile taking careful note that he was an elf. "Quite massive indeed." He paused to inspect the elf. He looked old, ancient even, with an aura of Mystery about him. There was more to him than met the eye. He was particularly partial to Elves, as it was they he had to thank for his near-immortality.

"It's a strange pleasure that I should run into you a second time, Lance. I wonder what luck, or perhaps fate, has drawn us together." He advanced closer to Lance and looked into his eyes, his grin fading. "There is something different about you from when we last met, my friend. Some great saddness, or something of the sort, grows in your mind's eye. Tell me, what is wrong? Where are you going?"

Lance Crusade closed his eyes despondently, as he reflected upon Enigma’s words, tears once more slowly coursing down his face. When he finally spoke, it was a choked and subdued response. “Much has happened in my life . . . Too much sorrow, distress, and suffering that I have inflicted upon this world and that the world has inflicted upon me. Immortality truly has its grave and painful price . . .”

Pausing briefly, Lance swiftly wiped away the tears with the sleeve of his black tunic, as he opened his eyes, revealing pale yellow irises to the morning sky. “Question me no further about the past, for that has passed into the remote reaches of time. However, I will detail my plans for the future. I intend to cease my travels and prepare myself for the rigors of the last days of my life. For my time will soon come. It matters not if my death comes at the hands of an ally or a foe, or that I die peacefully or with pain. But it matters that I pass on my teachings to the future, not to the elimination of our foes, the implacable darkness that seeks to engulf us, but to seeking a status quo between us.”

Turning to address both Sigrun and Enigma, Lance continued. “Before I die, I seek one thing, peace between the light and the dark. Peace is not an absence of war, it is a virtue, a state of mind, a disposition for benevolence, confidence, justice. Utilize peace and the open warfare between the two sides of a coin will cease.”

“But for now, before I begin my teachings, I will travel to Velmora and seek out an old friend, Kain Irenicus, renamed Shentavo, the Exile . . . To a meeting of equals. For the burdens and responsibilities that I carry must be passed on to others.”

“Come, let us walk . . .”

Slowly, Lance turned and continued to walk, taking the winding trails to Velmora . . .

Bump

Sigrun continued his walk, silent as ever. He was still deep in thought, before he finally spoke softly to Enigma.

"Why do you particularly care of what I am?"

Permission granted freind. How do you wish to arrive? A teleportation spell? The waters turning to ice to your feet? The airs becoming calmer? Our weather is as normal, extreme, but our mages can change the flows of nature. Apologies about the lateness of my reply, but I was inscribing a rather complex runic structure on my home which did require my full attention.

It was Kain.

Engima took a minute to reflect on Lance's words. He couldn't quite fathom the extremity of the situation. Lance, dead? It was a thing Enigma would never dream of. He looked up as Lance mentioned someone named Kain Shentavo. The name rang through his brain. Enigma had heard rumors of Shentavo, and Velmora as well. He could not imagine another as strong as Lance, yet he and Kain were supposedly equals.

Enigma sighed. On the Human scale, he was on the top rung-easily one of the strongest men in the land. However, he was not among men now-These folk were on a whole diffrent spectrum than Enigma. Still, he had a few tricks up his sleeve he was sure would suprise even these ancient and powerful warriors.

Enigma was pulled from his thoughts as he heard the elf speak. He gave a small bow to Sigrun before answering.

"It was your people who gave me my long life, Master Elf. I owe much to them."

Sigrun halted his trek and turned to Enigma. Lance continued on, seemingly oblivious to the two of them. Sigrun looked calmly into Enigma's eyes. As Enigma looked back at him, he could swear that he felt a calmness flow into him, serenity filling his soul. Sigrun shifted his head slightly, as if to get a second, deeper look into Enigma's soul. A lip curled upward on one side, the beginnings of a smile.

"Interesting to learn. Rarely do my kind establish such a gift to outsiders. Therefore, I shall take this to heart and welcome you."

Sigrun bowed respectfully, his hair falling around his head and hanging in dual soft flows of elven hair. He straightened his posture once more and continued once more after Lance.

"Tell me of your story, Enigma. How have you come to know Lance? How did you become worthy of eternal life in the eyes of the elves?"

Bump (-_-)

Lance frowned when he received the message from Kain Shentavo. His brow furrowed with concentration, as he sent a reply to Kain's message. Do not worry about how I will travel to Velmora, for I will manage. However, I am traveling in the company of friends, Maximus Destroi, known now as Sigrun, who you know, and Enigma, an old friend, who you have never met. Do they have your permission to enter into your sacred land?

They certainly do. One thing I do ask, is that you be as discreet as possible. Try and arrive in some forest or vacant ruin within Velmora, as the Psi are a rather....suspicous people. And such company would certainly attract attention, and if it is an arcane method of entry, that will be detected. If you are asked questions, keep calm and say your are here under my permission. Tell him to ask me for confirmation, and I will give it.

Enigma smiled obligingly to Sigrun.

“Very well. My tale is a long, though I feel it has been a little uninteresting in recent years.” He took a breath and began to speak.

"I was born a little over 2000 years ago, to royalty. My uncle, however, killed my father and stole my kingdom from me, forcing me to go into exile. I became a wanderer from then on-An adventure-seeker, as well as a skilled swordsman. It was by chance that I happened across a most unusual cast of characters who were preparing to set off on a great quest for a powerful artifact-The Blood Goblet.”

“This fellowship included Myself, Lance, and everything from a Shape shifting Elf to a powerful Demon sealed inside a man to a Vampire. My own sister even joined later, tracking my path and catching up with the group.”

He paused, reminiscing.

“Unfortunately, the Quest fell into disarray. Problems from inside the group-mainly stemming from the demon-forced the group to all go our separate ways. I don’t know what happened to the others of the group, but my sister and I decided to fulfill a blood oath-To wrench my kingdom from my evil uncle’s hands. He was quite old then, and most of the people hated the fiend. When my uncle summoned the royal army to fight us, they refused, saying they would only obey their true king. I gave my uncle the choice of either fleeing or dying; he made as if he would choose the former, but then tried to attack us with a well-hidden throwing knife. The ploy didn’t work, and together my sister and I struck him down.”

“After that my sister and I ruled equally for a short time. We began to reestablish friendly ties with all the kingdoms around us-Two realms of Men to the south and west, a large kingdom of Elves to the north, and a numerous colonies of dwarves to the east. The Kingdom grew to be close with the Elves-I myself met a great friend among them. An young elvish prince by the name of Hamoni had just taken over management of his kingdom. We became like brothers-almost exact counterparts. Soon, however, disaster struck.”

“A great army of Orcs and Trolls and other vicious, unnamed beasts overran the Dwarf colonies in the east, then began to threaten Hamoni and his realm. Naturally, I rushed to his aid with the full royal army. The battle that commenced was massive. I estimate my and Hamoni’s combined forces numbered about thirty-thousand men, probably more. I am not sure if Numbers can express the black tide of evil that we faced. We fought on a great plain surrounded by forest-The edge of the Elvish kingdom. The battle raged for five days until I was mortally wounded by an orcish arrow. No healers or clerics were nearby, so Hamoni took me off the field to a remote patch of woods and healed me with his last ounces of strength. I knew he had some skill in magic and the art healing, but I never imagined that he was as powerful as he was.”

“Somehow, however, a group of Orcs had tracked us into the woods. I watched as a weakened Hamoni tried to fend off the monsters, but it was no use. In moments, he was cut down. I picked up my sword, swore vengeance, and slaughtered the orcs without mercy. I then went back to the battle, which was not going well. My sister had also been wounded and was absent from the field, and most of my men believed me to be dead. Their valor was restored when they saw me rejoin the battle, but I knew the outcome-Our side had already lost too many to be victorious. Just when it seemed that all was lost, a great horn sounded from the woods. The combined Armies of men from the south and west had joined the battle. Even the surviving dwarves-most of whom were taking shelter in my own realm-came forward to fight. Thousands upon thousands of fresh troops poured onto the field. Within a few hours, our forces had routed the Orcs and sent the survivors crawling back to the mountains of the East.”

“Afterwards, Elvish Magi gifted me and my sister with Immortality, and our bloodlines with long life for saving their kingdom. I left my own realm in the able hands of my sister, and traveled various lands for many years. I eventually enrolled in various schools of magic-a field that I had always been interested in. After many years, I mastered twelve different styles of magic-Fire, Water, Air, Earth, Wood, Animal, Light, Darkness, Metal, Health, Truth, And Spirit. I joined the Wizards Confederation-Rising to one of it’s highest ranks-but left after realizing that the job just consisted of sitting in a circular room arguing with old farts.”

Enigma shrugged as his tale came to a conclusion.

“Since then I’ve been getting lost on the road of life. My time is usually spent traveling to distant lands and meeting odd and powerful people, as well as fighting constant evil. I sometimes visit my sister every now and then, but seldom.”

He looked at Lance for a few seconds.

“For some reason I think that our meeting was not chance. I’m sure it will be great fun go on another adventure with Lance Crusade…But I am sorry to hear the reason and probable result of this escapade...Oh well, we all must pass on someday.”

(Bump to ze Top)

Sigrun nodded in agreement, "Indeed the threads of time must ensnare us all to our deaths, whether it be sooner or later. As for your gift, use it well. I sense that my cousins have not given it to you without a hidden purpose. You hold something in store for your destiny, something only you will uncover."

Sigrun continued his walk with Enigma beside him. Both watched the backside of Lance as he trudged forward with a sense of doomed purpose. One could almost see the sorrow that surrounded the warrior...

Enigma took Sigrun's words into consideration. He had always wondered why the elves had bestowed such a great honor on him. At first he had dismissed it as thanks for saving Hamoni's kingdom, but as time had passed he had always thought that there had to be something else to the mystery... Immortality was not something to be taken lightly after all. Although he considered himself an Elf-Friend, Long Life was a massive honor-Enigma had begun to think that there was some hidden meaning to his gift. Was he perhaps meant to do something, as Sigrun had implied?

"Perhaps you are right, but it's meaning has escaped me for quite some time. I hope that I will find it someday."

Enigma looked forward at Lance and wondered when they would reach thier destination. Velmora. A legendary land-one of the few Enigma had not visited. He could only guess what was in store for the group there.

(bump for FCN)

Lance froze for a second as another telepathic message arrived from Kain Shentavo...
They certainly do. One thing I do ask, is that you be as discreet as possible. Try and arrive in some forest or vacant ruin within Velmora, as the Psi are a rather....suspicous people. And such company would certainly attract attention, and if it is an arcane method of entry, that will be detected. If you are asked questions, keep calm and say your are here under my permission. Tell him to ask me for confirmation, and I will give it.
Lance breathed a short sigh of relief as he projected an answer to Kain's message:
Very well, old friend. Look for us when a new day is heralded in three days time...
Lance swiftly turned his attention back to the meeting at hand. With the agility and grace of a dancer, Lance whirled around and gazed at Sigrun and Enigma, his eyes hardening, as he regarded his two friends. In a quiet voice that seemed to project over the silence that had somehow wrapped itself around the group, Lance addressed them. "The current stage of our journey is now at an end . . . From the gauging of the distance that remains between here and Velmora, I believe that I will be able to bring us through the mystical arts of the dragons to Kain's position whenever I wish . . . However, I am in search of two other friends to join us before we pass into Velmora . . ."

Turning to Enigma, Lance continued. "You know one of them. For he is the eternally damned mage known as Azara Telas . . ." He swiftly turned his attention back to both men. "However, none of you know the second person, for he has already passed into the annals of history and time, trapped in between two great inter-dimensional forces that are slowly ripping her apart. But, I fear that the strain will be too great. I require your assistance . . . Will you help me, rescue the woman that I once loved?"

Sigrun thought to himself for a few moments, not giving a response until hie was done.

"You say this woman is trapped between inter-dimensions. I am curious to know why and who would commit her to such a fate? Answer this, and I will do what I can to assist you, Lance."

Sigrun had learned from earlier conflict to at the least have some sort of idea what they were going up against. Once, it had almost cost him his life... If he could, he would make some attempt to turn this in their favor, to level the playing field at the least.

Lance Crusade sighed as Sigrun spoke his words for it brought to mind a terrible deed that had occurred in the mists of time . . .

Over two thousand years ago, Lance Crusade had loved two women. One of them was his wife, Amelia Eiken, the daughter of the Master of Mt. Mirror, and the mother of his son, Amistad Crusade. The second was one who was unattainable, a forbidden fruit and a great temptation that had caused him to stray from his devotion to his wife. The woman was a distant cousin, a beautiful woman that charmed all she met. Lance Crusade was not immune to her charms nor to her beauty. Her name was Ekaterina

For years, Lance had dallied with this woman, unable to escape from weaknesses of the flesh. As Lance traveled throughout the world, battling alongside allies and enemies, Ekaterina traveled with him, a constant companion, while Amelia remained back in the Middle Kingdom raising Amistad.

When Lance fell in battle, fleeing with his wife and newborn son, Ekaterina was captured and damned to an eternity of torture by the enemies of the great swordmaster . . .

As the tears flowed down his face, Lance spoke, explaining his contrasting feelings. "She was a dear friend. Someone that I loved dearly, and yet in my utter disregard for the safety and wellbeing of those I loved, I inadvertently damned to the battle plains between dimensions . . ."

Enigma's eyes widened. Azara Telas? The Demonlord?! Or course, Azara was as good a man as any-it was simply the terrible power inside of him that was dangerous. He listened closely to Lance's other choice and took her into close consideration before coming to a decision.

"Very well, Lance; I will help you. How will we reach this women you speak of if she is trapped in such a terrible place? What is your plan for this rescue?"

Sigrun sighed. Lance had not answered who had inprisoned his love, but he would not press for this anymore. He sighed once more as he looked up at Lance with a set expression. If there was anything he understood, it was the wrongful detainment of a loved one.

"I will help you, no matter what may happen or what we may go up against."

Lance Crusade's eyes narrowed his eyes, as his jaw hardened, creating what seemed to be feral features as he replied to Sigrun's comments. "I intend to travel into the interdimensional area that my love has been entrapped in and rescue her from the agony that she will experience there and the collision of the powerful forces at work . . . The only way that I and anyone can travel to the location where my beloved is trapped is through a complete disconnection of the spirit from the physical body."

"Spiritual Disconection, Eh?" This was a field of magic that Enigma had never ventured too far into, but he head heard of it; He was not sure if it was even magic at all.

He paused a moment, wondering what forces he would be facing in a few seconds. He focused, trying to think of a spell that could yank his soul from his body and not kill him; He searched his memory and found only one such incantation. Enigma wondered if perhaps Lance might probvide a field spell that would transport them all, saving him the trouble of using any energy.

He grinned.

"All right; We had better get started then."

"Very well," replied Lance Crusade, "We have almost arrived at the place where we will disconnect our spirit from our physical bodies. We have almost arrived at the Circle of Swords. Come now, follow me." Turning around, Lance walked forward, dissolving into a permeable gel-like wall.

On the other side was a beautiful garden, carefully cultivated by Lance and his minions, the Face Dancers created specifically to guard the Circle of Swords. Scattered throughout the garden were massive obelisks, commemorating the dead of several conflicts interwined with Lance's long life. Slowly, tears began to flow down Lance's face as he remembered events occurring in the dark past . . .

Sigrun paused momentarily as he thought to himself.

The circle of swords...Arleni's been there before!"

Sigrun didn't let his pause become noticeable to the others, and soon they were indeed walking amongst Lance's old memories. Sigrun remained silent, looking carefully at each of the monuments...

Enigma turned from side to side as he viewed the garden. Nice place, he thought. He noticed Lance's tears and wondered how much significance this place held for him and his life. Enigma's hands shook slightly at the prospect of disconnecting.

(OOC: Tarlachia, technically, Sigrun never went to the Circle of Swords... Only Arleni has been there... I'll post something tomorrow...)

OOC: oops...I'll edit...

When the mortal beings walked through the barrier that had loomed hidden through some trick of magic, they arrived in a land sharply contrasting to that which they had left. The land was beautiful, filled with luscious greenery, trees, shrubs, bushes of all types, contrasting greatly with the cold, barren wasteland in which the travelers had just left. Near the barrier, a pair of massive, opulent fountains sent water streaming in an arch of a small pathway made of crushed gravel and rock. The travelers could see a pair of statues, depicting heroic figures in fighting poses flanking the path. In the distance, the three mortals observed a line of massive, beautiful obelisk, rising into the sky.

With a sigh, Lance dropped to the ground, his face covered by his hands as he lamented and prayed for his return to a secret world, hidden from the outside known only in legend as the Graveyard of Heroes and alternatively as the Circle of Swords...

Suddenly out of nowhere, two men appeared wearing ceremional halberds and swords. Walking forth, they challenged the three travelers. Lance stood and in a monotone voice said, "Stand down, face dancer guardians... These are my friends to see the wonder that we have wrought in such a barren land..."

Bowing, the two guards retreated back into the darkness from whence in came, allowing Lance to proceed onwards. Gesturing for his two companions to follow him, Lance walked slowly, but purposefully down the gravel path towards the massive obelisks looming in the distance.

In a quiet voice, Lance spoke. "Behold, the garden of obelisks known as the Circle of Swords. A place of sorrow and grief. Monuments commemorating the dead of ages past . . ."

Sigrun sensed the shift in the fabrics of reality as they entered the realm of the Circle of Swords. Statues graced the landscape, surrounded by their own flora that equally displayed the beauty and raw power of the stories behind each memorial.

He studied the two guardians, and watched as they left.

He glanced down at Lance, placing a gentle hand upon his shoulder,

"A rightful place to mourn the heroes of the past. Yet, something still troubles you, something that concerns this hidden world. Something that we must work together to satisfy its purposes."

Lance Crusade stared blankly at Sigrun for a second, not completely comprehending Sigrun's words. Shaking his head briefly, Lance turned his attention back to business and the issue of the interdimensional shift. Gesturing down the pathway, Lance slowly began to walk...

With a forlorn look in his eyes, Lance Crusade slowly walked down the worn path towards long forgotten monuments to events of battle and death banished from the minds of mortals and immortals alike. Tears slowly crystallized at the corners of Lance’s eyes as he recalled painfully heart-wrenching events that had occurred in his long life of thousands of years. The agony was too much for even a strong being as Lance to endure. In his time, he had witnessed the death of millions. He watched friends, both old and new, perish in the eternal conflicts between light and dark. He witnessed titanic battles between beings of unfathomable power. He watched his only son die in his arms, killed by the recklessness of his own actions. It was clear that Lance’s return to the Circle of Swords did not bring pleasant memories to his mind.

Stopping, Lance gestured at the many obelisks scattered around the landscape, each as dark as onyx. With a grim demeanor, Lance spoke once more. “My dear friends, we have arrived at the starting point of a journey worth memorializing by these obsidian obelisks. As we prepare for our journey into the unknown and open the last chapter of my life, we must first understand the beginning history of my very being.”

“I was an orphan adopted by the powerful yet childless Duke of Cala at the height of the Warring States Period described as one of the most bloody conflicts in antiquity. Millions died in countless battles across the Middle Kingdom. The Duchy of Cala would soon fell amidst the tumultuous warfare, as the Kingdom of Qin slowly reunified China.”

“Raised as the successor of the Duke of Cala, I was given the surname Crusade, long the familial name of the House of Cala. My first name became ‘Lance,’ due to a scar along my back created by a lance or spear of some sort. When my adopted father discovered me, two ancient scrolls in an incomprehensible language were found in the blanket wrapped around me. These two scrolls would become very, very important . . .”

“I excelled in warfare, learning the secrets of swordsmanship mastery from the greatest swordsmen of antiquity. I eventually surpassed them all, gaining entry to the vaunted citadel of Mirror Mountain. There I was taught by the venerable master who paved the way for the eventual mastery of the ways of the sword.”

“Upon my sixteenth birthday, I was already an acknowledged swordmaster without equal, able to battle and defeat entire armies without assistance. As I slowly crossed the fine line between mortal and immortality, the Duchy of Cala collapsed, assaulted by an attack on beasts seemingly from myth. Creatures that seemed as a mix of men and horses and green bloodthirsty humanoids flooded the Duchy, overwhelming what defenses we maintained. We were destroyed . . . I know now that they were orcs and centaurs. But then, we did not know that such beasts existed . . .”

“My adopted father fell in this fighting. Grief stricken, I embarked on a quest to search for a mythical warrior of what seemed then of incomprehensible power and ability. I searched for the being known as the Dragonlord. After four years of searching, I finally found the last Dragonlord, a being created by the melding of a dying ancient dragon and a newborn baby. That being was known as Omnus Stormrider . . . He has since perished under the heel of Xuanyu’s power . . .”

“Together, we worked to crush the hordes that had invaded my homeland. We eventually decimated the orcish and centaur hordes, but at what cost . . . Fully a million of my countrymen were dead by the depredations of these horrendous creations. My kingdom was decimated and I lost the will to live . . .”

“With grief, I retreated to Mt. Skyfire and began to undergo six long years of training alongside Omnus Stormrider. Slowly, we deciphered the text of the two scrolls that I possessed, learning the Eighteenth Palm Techniques of the Xiang Long and the Infinity Swords Technique.”

“This is only the beginning of the long story of my life, but it contains the most important aspects of life. It speaks of the formation of my personality and only a minute portion of the guilt, pain, and suffering that I endure. I am a sick man. Sick not in body or mind, but in my soul. An irretrievable part of me died with the destruction of my homeland, even greater than the agony I endured after the death of Amistad, my one and only son.”

Pausing briefly, Lance sighed. “It is time now to begin our journey . . .” Turning around, Lance began to walk forward with slow, painful steps, as he moved towards the center of the Circle of Swords.

Sigrun listened carefully to Lance's words and stored the information away into the depths of his mind. Later, he would write the story down, for posterity, and include it into his journal of friends met throughout his life. Someday, someone would open that book and find the entries written there, and they would learn of the ways of the world long before their time.

Lance would be his newest addition.

"Let's not waste any more time, my friend. Time runs short, I suspect." Sigrun replied, preparing himself for the mental stress that would undoubtedly occur from this...

Enigma suddenly felt very old and tired as he walked through the Circle of Swords and examined the monuments of Lance's life. He had no idea that Lance had suffered so much...Enigma gave a silent pledge to help his old friend as much as he could. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Sigrun is right. I can't bear to hear it anymore; your sorrows seem to rest upon you like an massive weight." He looked at his friend gravely. "No man should have to go through that."

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