NationStates Jolt Archive

Cats Keep, Homecoming - The Tale

Cats Keep
26-03-2005, 19:30
Some times a story has to be told, shared with others. ( This might become an RP but for now it is just the story of our return, our homecoming. All comments and constructive criticism are welcome, but please keep it brief.)

Now it's a RP Fatal Terrain welcome , others please Telegram me first.

Here's a starting link to Cats Keep, the facts ( Keep.htm)

Shalamar, Lady of Cats Keep, sighed and shifted irritably on the hard seat of the throne. ‘I think it’s time for new cushions’ she grumped to herself. ‘Why can’t I have a nice comfortable EZ -Boy instead of this monstrosity?’ She answered herself ‘Because your people made this to honour you and what you represent, a gift that you had not the hardness of heart to refuse, you big marshmallow’. Sighing inwardly once more, she gritted her teeth and firmly turned her attention to the petitioners before her. Their case was easy enough to see the answers to, and with thoughtful discussion she mediated a settlement that all three parties were content with. This was the last but one as the pseudo sun of the Shadow Realm began to settle behind the Storm Wall that marked the boundary of Cats Keep’s domains. Soon the first of the three moons would be rising, tiny green hued Lyriel to speed across the heavens, to be followed more sedately by rosy Fionne, and battered Ti’ain.

As the trio now chatting amiably among themselves in low voices departed, she turned to her herald, Corwin. Her look signaling him that it was time to call the last group forth. He returned her smile and looked at his notes. It was just habit, for he had perfect memory and had never, in the over eleven thousand years that Shalamar had known him, made a mistake when speaking before the court. ‘That I' aware of...thank the Divine I’ve not had to endure the boredom of court for most of that time. I can remember when Jo left - as if it were yesterday, ‘stead of near twelve hundred…it doesn’t seem to have been that long. Goddess I miss her. She’d give me one of her patented looks and we’d both be fighting not to giggle and ruin the ‘solemnity of the occasion’…damn it boss I never wanted your job! I’ve got to stop wool gathering, but something, something is niggling at me and…Pay attention, these youngsters are here to be officially noticed by you so DO SO!' Shalamar chastised herself as Corwin’s rich baritone, unchanged by the years, sounded through out the vast, high ceilinged hall, carrying to every nitch and corner clearly.

“Will Evard, Lord Bjornsburg, present himself before the…” Corwin’s voice was drowned out by the reverberating bass peal of hard struck metal filling the Hall like thunder and making the very foundations quake. The unexpected echoes that followed silenced the sudden flurry of gasps and half formed questions. The Great Hall of Cats Keep had been specifically designed to damp echoes and conversations but now the gaily clad throng were darting stunned looks at one another, their peaceful afternoon visitations abruptly ended, flirtations and conversations stilled.

The Bell of Challenge had been rung. The silence that followed was deafening.

Shalamar too froze for a moment, and then flashed a raised eyebrow at Corwin. They two were the oldest here. They two were the only ones present that had ever heard Challenge rung. The rest of those at court this day were simply too young, most less than a hundred years old, and to them it was little more than a long, all but forgotten tradition.
Cats Keep
26-03-2005, 23:14
Slowly the Lady of Cats Keep stood, drawing all eyes to her by this movement, while the Corwin faded into the shadows at the edge of the throne and was gone, Stepping elsewhere. With a calm but quick movement, Shalamar took the Sword of State and, in a feat that was Power rather than physical strength, buried half its length in the hematite slab that formed the dais upon which her throne sat.

Smug and MBC, summoned hastily from a late afternoon sunning, appeared silently on either side of the throne. Shalamar did not outwardly acknowledge the arrival of the flapcats, companion and familiar, but gave then a quick mental caress. Smug’s aquamarine eyes were little more than slits, and his plumy tail lashed angrily. MBC was outwardly calmer, but his velvety skin shivered with tension that jangled through both of them. Both chose to remain at their normal size and with lithe movements leapt up to take the wide arms of the throne as their watch posts. Smug dashed a rough tongue against the ebon fur of one shoulder as he flicked his iridescently plumaged wings to settle the feathers properly

With an oddly gentle gesture the Lady of Cats Keep waved for those that had been standing before the dais to move back. Unquestioning they did so, forming a circle roughly thirty feet in diameter. The court was silent; those attending almost forgetting to breathe as eyes continually swept the room, not wanting to miss whatever would occur next. The silence hung heavily upon all of them.

That opening was not empty for long, as with naught to signal arrival but the faintest movement of displaced air, a tall, almost skeletal man, his pallid skin almost seeming to glow, appeared an unsheathed blade in hand. “I Ring Challenge. I call you no longer fit to rule.” His voice was rusty, a rasp that spoke as much of the old injury done him as did the twisted band of scar that encircled his throat.

“I wondered where you were Gaunt. It was so unlike you to miss any opportunity to remind others of your opinions. However I had not thought rebellion of you…or at least not yet.” Shalamar’s sharp gaze swept those that filled the Great Hall, easily reading the currents that shifted the players into four distinct groups. His, Hers, Undecideds, and those that simply wanted to get out of the way of the imminent clash of two major powers. Part of her felt sorry for the last, but it was only a small part.

“I see that you are appropriately dressed for your funeral rites” She sneered a little at the overly ornate black velvet garb far more appropriate for the Court of Elizabeth I than the far less formal, ‘and much more comfortable court I keep’ she thought waspishly then continued aloud “We wouldn’t have it said that we omitted you any honor owed.”

“’Tis not I that shall fall this day, but you. You, who would take us from the safety of Shadow. I stand as Sigil for those who would have no part in your dangerous schemes.” Gaunt sneered at the auburn haired woman who slowly descended the broad sweep of steps that led to the dais.

“The vote was taken, every one who cared to vote did so. The objections and the benefits, the necessities and the various potentials were discussed in open sessions for over a decade. Your faction garnered not even a fifth of the vote, and provisions have been made for all who wish to remain in the Realm.” Shalamar’s voice was calm; seeking to bring reasonableness to a situation she knew in her heart had moved inextolerably past any such sanity. However little hope she had, she had to attempt a peaceful recourse, it was her duty to those who had chosen her, who supported her, who would die if civil war broke out.

“I Ring Challenge” He repeated it a third time, his voice silkily venomous, as tradition demanded, ending Shalamar’s faint hope that it could be settled by any other path than death. He shook back the heavy cape that hung from his shoulders, it’s blood red lining of richly embroidered silk glowing in the warm light provided by the many faeglobes that floated near the delicately hand carved decorations of the ceiling. The sword in his hand gleamed as well, hard silver glints splintering from the polished blade, rainbow hues coruscating from the many gems set in the pommel and cross guard. To one who knew how to read the stones and cipher their placement the weapon’s Powers and Banes could be easily read. The lambent gems set in the adamantine metal were primarily rubies for blood, and garnet, the lesser scarlet, for the enchantments to keep that blood flowing freely; aquamarines and azure topaz (Gaunt was not a true Air Adeptus to work with the primaries of that Art) for the banishment of breath, the curdling of the very air about his target. Gaunt had no need of breath, for he was a vampire, and an Adeptus Arcane in addition. He was no minor power to be dismissed out of hand, and there were many who felt him the greatest power in Cats Keep. And he was the current commander of Cats Keep’s military.
27-03-2005, 01:19
Cats Keep
27-03-2005, 04:47
Briefly her eyes closed, the finely tailored blouse with its full flowing sleeves and tfitted breeches vanishishing to be replaced by simple silk robes and veils of deepest crimson. Simple they may have appeared, but every one present knew exactly what Power they represented. Silk to keep any coming in accidental contact safe, crimson to visually warn all of the Donas the wearer wielded. Gloves and veils to further prevent even the slightest contacts. Crystal, silver, blue and gold, the starstone, a matrix crystal fully a fist's width across, gleamed at her throat.

Donas were the gifts of the mind – psionic’s; Telepathy, Empathy, the assorted Kinesis, the Portations, all of the Arts Mental. Though Shalamar was no child of the Towers, no product of the breeding plan that had spanned a thousand years until their influence had been shattered, she was still one of the most powerful among them. Her gifts, flaring fully to life under the wierdling influence of Shadow, had nearly killed her. The Donas normally awoke during puberty when the recuperative powers of the body were at their strongest.

Shalamar had been thirty-five, and had spent nearly fifty years in the twilight existance of a psi coma, sustained by the efforts of her mentor. Upon her emergence her mentor, master to her apprentice, the Deadly Sin of Wrath had sent her to the oldest of the Towers and there she had dwelt and trained in seclusion for over two thousand years. The Donas that had awakened in her was one of the rarest and most dangerous, and even by the time the means to tame such abilities had been sussed out she was but one of three who survived to wield them. 'Storm Queen' they called her, naming her after the novel that described the power, and danger, able to tap into the energy well of a planet, or a Realm. She had been happy in the Tower, scarcely noticing the passing of the years, until Wrath called her forth to be her apprentice once again, and to attempt to curb the growing power of the Towers. That had culminated in a war unprecedented, though the wars that would follow were worse.

Shalamar shook off those memories and held out her hand to grasp the katana that appeared in midair in response to her summoning. She had only minor magic’s, and those mostly because of the familiar bond between she and MBC. Relying upon her magic in the upcoming battler would be suicidal; no this would be one where her Donas and centuries of training with the katana would serve her far better. ‘Though Gaunt was a swordsman, and vampire already when Cats Keep came to Shadow’ she dredged out of memory. She had seldom practiced against Gaunt -they had never been friends. She had trusted him to do his job competently and fairly and that was the extent of their interactions.

“Then challenge is answered” Her voice belling forth as she took the last of the three steps from the dais. Gaunt’s bow was mocking, almost insulting in its brevity, and he moved into a formal duelist’s stance. Shalamar was careful not to let her eyes widen, for she had not known Gaunt fought that style. She had guessed himto be, like herself, a purely field combat practitioner. She had little but contempt for the elaborate feints and passes, the rigid hierarchy of moves and responses that duelists considered the core of their form. In contrast to her preferred style this was a vast weakness, and one she would not hesitate to exploit, especially not in such a life or death situation. Gaunt would accept nothing less than her death and she could not afford to let him continue to exist.

She settled herself into a low guard stance that would allow her a wide variety of responses and watch a small smile play over Gaunts lips. 'Theres is something more..' she thought as time itself seemed to slow, her senses sharpening into unnatural clarity and a preternatural calm descended. She knew before the vampire did, in that precognitive microsecond prior, what his choice of attack would be. Before the command could speed from his brain to his arm. And in that timelessness she out acted him, her blade coming up in an eye searing blur to slash across his midsection, burring itself deeply into his flesh, indeed almost to his spine. Her follow through came as his sword was swinging up, and took Gaunt across the neck, laying it bare and partially severing the spine. Fatal, but not instantly so for a vampire of Gaunt’s age and powers, and that could prove fatal to the Lady.

Gaunt smiled hideously at her, and his off hand formed a symbol. What his magic had hid from all crashed upon them like a blow from Mjollnir in Thor’s hands. He fell to the ground, his store of life giving blood flowing freely from the ancient vessel of his body. He had fed more this day than in generations in preparation for this moment of potential sacrifice; one that might not be if his hidden allies could win the day quickly enough.

“My sacrifice opens the way, Cats Keep will fall.”
27-03-2005, 09:58
Cats Keep
28-03-2005, 04:14
Shalamar staggered as the impact of the border watchtowers falling before the onslaught of Cats Keep’s eternal enemies, the Demonic Armies, tore through her. The cries of those guardians, holders of the Watchtowers, vanished from her mental map of their emplacements one by one. Gaunt had given the ever-waiting invaders the secret ways past Cats Keeps formidable border defenses.

“NO!” That was a treachery she had never imagined of him. Then she was on the floor, doubled over in mental pain as Gaunt poured fourth more of his vampiric reserves of strength. Another small gesture and star stone was wrenched from about her neck. Unlike most of those who used the matrix crystal to enhance their psionic gifts, the Lady of Cats Keep’s was used to keep her powers in check, render them safe. She had come to depend far too heavily upon the tethers provided by the starstone over the years, complacent within the bonds upon her. The massive energy well of the Realm of Shadow swept over her, swamping her senses, leaving her all but adrift in the fluctuations of the energy field. Shalamar could do naught but convulse as waves of pain rendered her all but senseless.

Smug’s plush coat stood on end as his companion’s mental cry of pain seared through him and he streaked to her side, seeking to add his powers to hers, aid her in regaining control of her self and gifts. The battle took all of his concentration but there were others watching, guarding. Dozens of flapcats sped to join him, to encircle the writhing figure, all but hiding her from the sight of those beginning to panic.

Every flapcat elsewhere in the lands shaped and held by Cats Keep set up an eerie wail. Demons approach their cry warned, “Beware, treachery, Demons have broken through the Watch Towers”. Others of Shadow that had allied themselves with those of Cats Keep sensed the beginnings of the invasion as well and each began sounding their own warning. However Cats Keeps defenders were stunned, taken totally unaware by their commander’s treachery, and too many units died wholesale before they could even begin to react.

MBC, his furless skin a prickle, caught the sudden gleam of fire filled orbs, of magic’s shifting, changing, and growled, the sound filling the Great Hall. “Traitors within!” Then he too was changing, growing until he stood taller than a warhorse, with fangs and claws to match. His leathery wings snapped out, and crouching slightly, he launched himself into the air.

Gaunt’s collaborators were throwing off their seemings, revealing themselves now before the frightened gazes of those that were their prey, their food. Fully half of those that Shalamar had tagged as being ‘His’ proved to be demonic entities. Their revealed presence proved to be overwhelming to most of the young courtiers, the waves of fear they emanated sending many screaming in near mindless panic. With howls of bestial laughter the demons fell upon those nearest.
Cats Keep
28-03-2005, 20:12
MBC was met in midair by a demon fully his size and mass, their magic’s shattering against one another, fire and frost hiding the combat from mortal sight. With claws and razor tipped wings they closed, clashed, and then broke away, each leaving the other with painful evidence of the others fighting skill. Banshee sharp howls sounded as they met again and MBC’s powerful claws managed to tear a massive rent in the demons leathery wings. Locked together they landed on the marble floors with an impact that shook the Great Hall. The demon, rolled by MBC so that he landed first, was dazed by not out of the fight. His jaws spread wide and fastened on the skin of the Spinxian Flap Cats furless shoulder. MBC howled and twisted in his foes jaws, bringing his own fangs into play, ignoring the searing of the demon’s acidic ichor against his skin.

A demon, skin glowing with ruddy hellight paused just long enough to hamstring a trio of matrons cowering in near catatonia. “More for desert” He laughed gutterly as he turned to swipe viciously at a young man wielding a small sword. His claws ripped through the youth’s abdomen, allowing the intestines to spill forth and tangle about the feet of the screaming sword wielder. The demon turned to other victims as the sword wielded by the dieing man flailed impotently against his nearly impenetrable hide.

A pair of young lovers, hand in hand ,beautiful, bright and far too young in their festival clothes, blazed like the stars themselves as a demon reached for them with a laughing howl that became it’s death knell.

Fully half of the demos infesting the Great Hall vanished as an apprentice spoke the final words of a abjuration he did not completely understand, but his will was strong and his gift even greater. It is said that the most potent castings of all are those powered by sacrifice.

Else where through out the domain some of its populace hunted for what ever safety could be found, but more scrambled to duty stations, to the manning of what weapons they could reach. The twinned Towers, Arcane and Mental, too threw off their stun and began to work in concert as they had been designed to do. However with the Storm Wall breached the mass of the Demonic Armies was too great, especially as so many Mage and Psi alike, had died in the shock of the total destruction of the Watch Towers.

The flap cats and other allies never hesitated in their attack on the demons. Here and there the very fabric of the Domains writhed beneath the effects of their assault on the invaders.

Three matrix powered scramjets made it off the launch pad as meteors pulled from the heavens made fireballs of their wingmen. Clawing for altitude they dared the danger zone beyond the domain of Cats Keep and one returned with the priceless benefit of ‘coming out of the sun’, for even demons shielded their eyes against the pseudo sun. Target lock tone sounded as he took his ship against the wedge shaped formation of fiends that was providing escort for the demon prince that had warped space to bring destruction to his mates. The missile, tipped with matter -antimatter held in careful stasis, soared free and he followed it in, knowing there was not way he could escape the destruction zone, and unwilling to chance the missile breaking lock.
Cats Keep
08-04-2005, 06:45
Shalamar made it to her knees as nausea wracked her and emptied her guts over the marble floor around her. Smug and his cohorts never gave up the sub sonic purr that encased her and shielded her from her own powers
to some small degree. All but blinded visually by the psi storm in her mind she groped about weakly for her katana

After what seemed like uncountable hours of agony her questing fingers found the blade, its preternatural shaprness slicing flesh so cleanly she ws unaware of the wound. Leaving a trail of blood she groped up the length of the blade, taking the hilt in hand.

Further nausea wracked her and she did not have the strength to spare. She let is sweep over her, riding it out, until at last it passed. The sounds of death and combat swirled around her and Shalamar could naught but wait and curse... Then she was crawling across the floor, searching for Gaunt, some wavery vision being provided by her link to Smug

Gaunt lay there, was unable to move, still extant but fadeing fast , as was his hope for rescue by his allies. Those in the Hall, young and mostly incompletely trained though they were, were proving to be of far sterned stuff than he estimated.

He rallied though when the last Deadly Sin of Cats Keep inched her way to him. "I have not failed yet" he hissed through blood drenched lips. The look on her face was one he had never seen,though and he realized at last that he had underestimated her as well.

"Gaunt, I'd love for there to be some way to truly make you pay for all this. I'm just that low and evil, but there isn't, so I'm just going to be fast." Her voice was low and cold, as by feel she undid the hilt of the katana, removing the wood that lay beneath the traditional sharks skin wrap, surrounding the tang of the blade. she laid the blade and wrapings aside.

The pilot said a quick prayer to the Lord of the Hunt as his plane bored in on the heels of the missile. He prayed for the safety of his wife and child/

Rearing back on her knees she fell forward, using her entire weight to drive the wood into his chest.

A bloom brighter than the heart of the sun

A heart pierced

The two occuring as one and the Domain itself cried out beneath the destruction, the wierdling twisting of reality and power... And the fabric the Domain had been wrought from began to fail to disintegrate...
09-04-2005, 17:27
Cats Keep
10-04-2005, 02:14
Shalamar sighed as she raised the leg rest on the leather covered Lazy Boy recliner. She'd Stepped today for the first time in nearly ten months and she was wearier both physically and mentally, than she had expected. The ten months had seemed to fly past in this strange land that the ragged remnant of the Domain had found itself an unexpected part there of. Ten months, I need it to be ten years. Nearly twelve thousand years passed in Shadow ...but not here! This is certainly not the Earth we left in the "year of our lord, or as is called presently "the common era" 1976" Shalamar mused as she watched the red sun that had followed them from the Realm of Shadows begins to set to the west. 'Perhaps it is appropriate that it came with us, seeing as we created it. It and the three moons that will rise tonight over the Domain...but not the rest of this Earth that is not ours, but is becoming so Her weary mind wandered, not wanting to turn to the reports that filled the side table, an eternal pile that never seemed to shrink.

Reports that the reconstruction of the Domain's infrastructure was proceeding slower than anticipated. Copperille, the northern most city, had their sewer system rebuilt and functional, despite the nearly five hundred deaths that happened when workers stumbled over a nest of the Plague ( Demon.jpg), the demonic entities, that had come with Cats Keep when it had been forced out of Shadow.

Bordermarche advised that soon there would be a bumper harvest of rice. And StarGate, sprawled over the mountains to the east that were there before (and managed to survive the impact of) the Domain had flumped down like some other worldly carpet to smother what ever had been there first announced that their White Tower was fully staffed - if one can consider barely more than apprentices 'fully staffed'. Engineers, and work crews had reported finding some strange artifacts when they had managed to dig down to what was obviously 'native' soil. And Tanara, an old trading partner, had sold the Keep enough mass foods like grain and flash frozen sides of beef, to keep those concerns at bay for nearly a year.

"But our populace is so greatly reduced." Shalamar spoke softly to MBC and Smug, the pair curled up comfortably in her lap. MBC was still flightless, the massive trauma to the flight muscles across his chest and shoulder healing slowly. Smug turned white eyes up to her, his sight burned out, his link with her harming him that fateful night. His deep purr never slowed or faded, he did not bemoan the sacrifice. Shalamar would never forgive herself.

Shadows passed over her and Shalamar looked up to see the changing of the sentries that stood post on the wide balcony outside her suite. A balcony once filled with potted plants, chairs for sunning in and a piece or two of her favorite statuary, was now mostly enclosed by protective barriers. The Plague ( Demon.jpg) attacks came almost daily, and she who never had guards before was now surrounded 24/7.

Her attention to the reports as she worked her way through the never-ending pile was broken as flapcats sounded warning that demons ( Demon.jpg) approached. Smug’s thick fur was standing on end and MBC velvety skin was a prickle as the disharmonious wail went up all about the Keep. Automated shields lowered over the balcony's wide glass doors and the suite's many windows. Orders crackled as soldiers rushed to man equipment that combined the best materials technology IADA had been able to ...acquire, with the best of their psionics and magic into potent weapons of destruction.

It tore at Shalamar to sit there and not take part in the defense, but her own wounds were not fully healed, her Donas too dangerous at this moment to try and control. She would do more harm to herself and possibly others, than any assistance she would be. Given what the Domains military had survived on the Night of the Invasion and the intervening months, they were very well prepared now to deal with their current problems, or so Shalamar very much wanted to believe.

The trio waited tensely for roar of close combat to wash over them but it never did. The raid was not directed at them, but a nearby educational complex. Smug looked through the eyes of his brethren that were apart of the force defending the school, and was able to advise, before the after action reports could be compiled and brought to her, that while the demons ( Demon.jpg) had been driven off with only minimal loss of life, the destruction of buildings in the combat arena was most significant.

“You have to authorize lowering the barrier Shal, give the Plague a way out. The military can push them out if you let them” Corwin said softly. His arrival and quiet presence had not been noticed until he spoke.

Shalamar started to snarl a reply, then stopped, frozen for a second He’s so wan and stooped dismay washing over her as she realized how worn, how aged her faithful herald had become. He saved my life, he deserves far better than I rail at him for my weakness

He had saved her life among others that night, returning to the Great Hall of the Keep with what remnants of the nearest military base he could collect. They were battered, mage and psi stunned, but they had fought with unrivaled bravery, managing to clear the Hall of what was later learned to be the Plague's ( Demon.jpg) high command. They had died almost to a man but their sacrifice would be honoured forever.

“I can understand you not wishing to loose the demons on unsuspecting countries. But the barrier is eroding and some of the demons are making it through despite our efforts to keep them contained. They breed too fast, their numbers grow faster than we can ferret them out and slay them.”

Shalamar scrubbed her face with her hands, and her voice was tormented. ”I’ll think on it Corwin, tonight and give a decision tomorrow.” She looked up at her oldest friend and her concern for him was clear in her eyes ”And you go get dinner, a bath and spend the evening reading…and not reports! Go to bed early. I promise to be good and do the same”

Yes she would. She had dreams to walk. Allies to find.
10-04-2005, 10:19
Tageth... will post soon.
Cats Keep
11-04-2005, 03:30
"Oh she walked through the gates and the people cried,
she walked through the market and the children died"

She'd never quite figured out why she'd chosen the prequelling lines to the psycological test of Death's Head Hill as her Stepping mantra. Humankind loved their illusions, and though she was not longer strictly human, she too harbored that weakness. Fewer than most however- self delusion was something she little allowed herself, especially when it came to the discharge of her obligations. 'I may not be the best ruler, not even a good ruler really, but I damn well will be a ruler that does their best!' her anger hummed along her nerves

Thunder rumbled across the night skies as the Step was never completed, leaving her in the wavering construct of the overworld, the psiconstruct that allowed one with the necessary skills to look into others hearts and minds as they rested, dreamed or meditated.

There.. as distant as her desire for it to be, was the wavering eye searing scarlet barrier that IADA's information claimed to be a breach into a hellverse, a rift into a truly demonic realm. 'Sometimes it takes a demon to fight demons...and this one, little information though I have - has been known to 'make a deal, if the price is something that interests him'. She would just have to find out what interested him

She had always well understood why the judeo-christian faiths had made wrath, anger, one of the seven deadly sins. It was the purest, emotionally, of all the so called deadly sins...and e-motion, energy in And she was the last Deadly Sin, the heir to that power...She let her mantle fall about her, wreathing her in layers of power and strode forth across the overworld to the heat and energy barrier that protected one universe from another.

Then she was past the veil, and by the power of her will, in the presence the one she sought, the great Lord Arithon. Though he would not know it until she chose to reveal her presence. She needed time to study him, to peer into his dreams

If androids dream of electric sheep, do demons dream of flayed ones?
11-04-2005, 03:57
Arithon had been plagued with dreams ever since he'd been cast down into human form, ninety-one years ago. They had varied each time, but there was of course one dominant theme. The curse being lifted from his very being, freeing Arithon from the burden of permanent human form and denied access to his own world. Once the curse was gone, he would make a point to hunt down the demon lord repsonsible and feast upon his essence.

The demon lord stood within a completely dark room, surrounded by a hue of energy as the curse finally left his body and his full strength returned. Unforunately, it was not that simple. Once the curse was lifted, he would need to feast upon souls to revive his full power. He needed sacrifices. Once that was completed, Arithon would be the dominant demon lord of his world once again, displacing Nez'gah back to second in command.

These dreams provided the only true enjoyment Arithon had experience since the curse was placed. He could escape into this world where he was fully restored. And once that occurred, he would get back to the task of establishing a stable rift between the worlds of demon and human, a rift the angelics could not intervene with. Once that was accomplished, everything else would fall into place as humankind were devoured by his demonic hordes...
Cats Keep
11-04-2005, 04:26
'Oh I might provide you a stable gate Demon, but I damn well wouldn't allow it to be used to let yet another horde of demons through to try and commandeer the world for their feasting. Oh not at all...but I can make you think it will be under your control. There are other powers besides 'angelic' ones...and the guard wolves have just come home... but I can't let you and your kind know that just yet.' Shalamar mused as she rifled though his dreams and outer mind.

'So he wants his primary form back, and desperately'.

Shalamar entered his dream slowly, letting herself stand where eventually Arithon would notice her, but her pose was in no way one of submisssion, of powerlessness. Strength respected strength, a meeting of equals this must be.
11-04-2005, 04:57
Arithon started as a female stepped out of the shadows and came into full view. She had never been a part of his dreams before and gave Arithon the feeling that she was more than a figment of his own mind.

Narrowing his eyes, Arithon stood and slowly walked towards the female figure, examining her closely as his path circled her then finally stopped before her still form. Arithon couldn't say he recognised her at all and finally stepped back. She was more than human, there was a certain strength about this woman. Whatever she was, Arithon's curiosity was sparked.

"Woman, what are you doing here?"

The demon lord's tone was deep, shaking the fabric of his dream world as his consciousness stirred. As a human, Arithon was tall, standing four inches over six feet. He wore a jet black robe that covered his entire body, save for his pale skinned head. Black hair to match his robe fell over his shoulders and crimson eyes glared upon this intruder to his dreams. Although human in apperance, there was a definite air of energy and strength beyond humanity about this man, he was demonic.
Cats Keep
11-04-2005, 05:49
Shalamar permitted the inspection, and favored Arithon with a long assessing stare of her own. He was handsome this Demon Lord in human guise, there was no disputeing that...and he was Power. 'And that is a weakness of mine I will do well to stomp heavily upon' she warned herself silently as she held out her hand palm upwards. There upon an image of Arithon's true form shimmered into being. A tantalizing offering for him and a warning for herself.

Lambent gold eyes met his crimson ones as she waited for his reaction, a smal cat's smile upon lips that could smile or snarl with equal ease. She did not match him in height, standing but six foot herself. Hair of polished flame tumbled down to her waist, and while she was not beautiful, neither was she plain. Robes of midnight green smoke gave tantalizing glimpses of a lush and long legged yet left much to imagination.

"If I was to be tiresomely dramatic, I might say that I had come to make you an offer you couldn't refuse. But we both know thats not true. I have come to strike a bargain Lord Arithon. Your curse lifted, your true form and full powers return for helping me in a small that would see you well fed. Think on this Lord Arithon for a time."

Shalamar turned to go, then looked over her shoulder, a glance of promise and warning in one

"And you can call me ...Rage"
11-04-2005, 05:53
At the Southern edge of Fatal Terrain lies the Djeri Empire. In most respects, it's a fairly ordinary country... but its leader is quite exceptional. In a chamber deep within his citadel, in the capital city, Dal-Gorath, Kazar-Tiyon was studying intelligence reports. He sat in darkness, seeing with eyes that were not his own... eyes that he wove of magic, and sent throughout the world. A number of them were reporting the existance of a strange shield of some sort, surrounding a section of Fatal Terrain itself. This, Kazar decided, would be worth investigating. Not tonight, though. A defensive measure, which this seemed to be, was not likely to be in urgent need of attention, and the many transformations he had undergone over the years had not freed him from his need for rest. After viewing a few more reports, Kazar moved to his bed chamber, also hidden in the depths of the citadel, and settled into sleep.

He was making no effort to disguise his nature, and the destructive power that dwelled within him would be obvious to anyone sensitive to such things.

OOC: In other words, I'm ready to post.
Cats Keep
11-04-2005, 06:19
The Lady of Cats Keep swirled out of the Demon Lords dreaming and back into the overworld. She had far to go, at least in the metaphorical sense. In the overworld the distance was one created by her wishes...or anothers seeking to exert dominance

She looked south, where far away ( for the moment ) a dark citadel stood, it's master's powers readily discernable in its clairity of visualization and solidity. Most structures in the overworld were but shadows - an unconscious, mostly inaccurate projection of their reality. But this one was as strongly projected as the Towers Black and White, Mage and Mind of Cats Keep. Formidible, Powerful, and the lair of one she would make ally if she could.

Demon's Bane, Demons Death...Kazar Tiyon the legends named him.

Crossing the overworld was but the act of willing it so, and she was with in the citadel, appreciating it's fine construction as she made her way into its depths and to the room where it's master dreamed. Here too was Power to tempt her, and a much safer one but as before she thrust that aside. Her duty was more important

"I need your help Kazar...I am sorry to intrude upon your dreams, but my land suffers from a Plague of Demons, and I do not know how much longer the barrier that keeps them confined will hold....One might say that I am holding on for a hero."

Again this would be a meeting of equals, or so she hoped he would see her as such. She shivered slightly with fatigue as she waited for him to acknowledge her
11-04-2005, 06:49
A Dreamspeaker, and much more, besides. How long has it beensince my dreams were last touched by another? I cannot recall...
Kazar-Tiyon could easily sense the power of his visitor, though he could not tell exactly what her nature was. She was something new to him, and he was not fond of remaining ignorant.

Shadowfang focused primarily on the visitor's words, however.
-A demon hunt, and the chance to gain a powerful ally. This is a chance we must not refuse.-
-So long as these demons are not the servents of Arithon. I will not turn against an old ally for the chance of a new friend.- Kazar thought back to the sword.
-Of course. I know better than to ask you to fight Arithon.-

Kazar-Tiyon turned to face his visitor directly, crimson eyes glowing from the shadows of his dark hood. Even in his own dreams, these shadows concealed all other details of his face. Black armored fingers tapped the hilt of his sheathed sword, which glimmered, in the dream, with visible life.

"I have no objection to your visit. I have not often been called a hero, but my blade and powers are yours in this matter... so long as these demons you speak of do not serve Lord Arithon. I have worked with him, upon occaison, and will not oppose him lightly.

"I would be glad, though, to take on any other demons. The destruction of evil is always a pleasure, and it is one I do not get so often as I would like."
11-04-2005, 07:44
Arithon awoke with a start, finding himself wrapped in his dark cloak against a large boulder. He didn't have to worry about finding himself safe shelter, her could erect demonic wards around himself that would ward off the boldest of creatures. Rising to his booted feet, Arithon's eyes glazed over as he reached out to the source of his dream's interruption. The woman known as Rage. Whilst Arithon didn't trust anyone, the prospect of having his curse lifted was too much to pass up.

"You have my attention. Where shall I meet you?"

Rage's location was known to the demon lord, he could sense her signature energies after making brief contact with her. She existed within a nation not far from the would be physical location of Arithon's world, within the region known as Fatal Terrain.

Brushing himself off, Arithon began the treck upon foot. Whilst he could employ faster means, he was in no rush until he recieved word from Rage and further details of this bargain.
Cats Keep
11-04-2005, 17:09
'Oh how my fingers itch to reach out and throw back that cowl...but what does he hide from, armored even in dreams? Himself?' The thoughts sang behind the careful calm of her face. 'Here, yet again is Power,and one great enough' She squelched that throught ruthlessly. She had her duty. Some day there might be time enough for other, but it was certainly not now.

"You should be called so more often Lord Kazar. Hero's are rare enough." Golden eyes once again met those that glowed scarlet. A smiled played across her lips as Shalamar gave a bow of her head to the other power in the room, bound within a magnificant sword.

"Indeed, if Lord Arithon responds as I hope he might, then you will be working along side him. This Plague is not comprised of his servitors."

She paused, then braced herself and spoke openly, though part of her writhed with shame at having to admit to any weakness. His willingness to help without promised reward deserved no less

'My people have fought bravely and will continue to do so, as have I -but our numbers were well and truly decimated on the Night of the Invasion..."

The words she stressed made it clear that that occurance was one that would indeed live on in her people's memory as a landmark, one now built into the geist of the nation.

"I will stand beside those who come to aid my people as best I might, but even now ten months later I am still possibly more of a danger than benefit. ..and you might well find your pleasure, your fill of it here...but rest and think further before commiting yourself. And if you decide...come north to the barrier, it will admit you, my people will welcome you..."

Her bow to him was deep , then she straightened and was gone from his dream, before he could sense the shivers of fatigue wracking her.
Cats Keep
11-04-2005, 17:30
Arithon had gone scarce a mile when a form, dark against the stars, sailed between him and the argent orb of the moon. A form who's wingspread blotted out much of those star strewn heavens. Then it folded those wings and plumeted earthward like a stone. In the last second of that plunge the wings snapped open with a thunder crack and the magnificant hawk landed with the lightest swirl of displaced air.

Even under the color changing light of the moon the brilliant blood red hue of it's plumage was visable. It's cold balefire eyes focused on the Demons Lord and it's voice was harsh but understandable...and angry

"Come ye, if ye dare, Demon. I have been sent by Rage" Fury filled the banshea shriek the Great Hawk hurled heavenward, as it turned slightly so that the specialized saddle and harness rigged across it's back.

"My wings are faster than your feet" It spat contemptuously "Come if you think you have the courage"
Cats Keep
11-04-2005, 20:26
Mika let him self sag wearily, and with a shakey hand swiped the sweat drenched hair from his eyes. "Every one okay? We nearly lost it there when your intonations faltered Kirit'chiba'chan"

The rest of the small circle of mages, most barely out of their teens, nodded one by one, most of them sinking to the ground. Kirit frowned at Mika's accusation, but had to acknowledge the rightness of his words

"You're right, but Great Gnuz! Remember that I've only five years of training under my belt. We got it through" The tall elvin lass and the rest of the circle looked in no little awe at the results of their long nights work. They'd worked the gate carefully and the last of their prizes crouched there, next to the others, unharmed

"Medusa's" Mika's voice was much happier "That's an entire wing we managed to bring through."

"Yes, but who'll fly them? I can take my aircar up and putter about the country side...but fly, and fly a military craft like that? No way. General Adrille says we'll have the pilots, but where from? We lost so many - Bjornsburg was under the blast's just a green glass crater now, and Bryngwlad is in THEIR hands completely." Terzika, the youngest of the mages spoke sadly, she had had family in Bjornsburg, and in Bryngwlad. She didn't want to think on that at all.

The others of the group looked away, trying to hide the nausea that the information of what was occuring in Plague occupied Bryngwlad brought them.

"We'll manage, the Lady won't let us down, she'll find away. We WILL do this!" Mika's voice was fierce as he spun his wheelchair about and looked off into the darkness
Cats Keep
12-04-2005, 05:52
Shalamar woke with a painful jerk, unsure what had brought her so sharply out of her fatigued sleep. She had returned to her suite in the Keep near collapse. Now she cursed mentally at how much such a simple thing as dream walking had left her as weak as a kitten. 'but I'm glad that Smug and MBC are'nt here, I've been sleep fighting again, and that would'nt have helped them rest.' She looked about the spacious bed, with its sheets and comforter twisted into a tangled mares nest that revealed exactly how unrestful her sleep had been

Then she smiled, soothed by a familiar scent...yes, that was Corwin's signature cologne drifting on the slight air current. 'He must have been the one to bring in this cup of hot chocolate, it's still steaming. I bet the door closeing was what awoke me.' The heavy mug was filled nearly to the brim and the cocoa was laden with healing draughts as it was every night. 'His thoughtlfullness is boundless, but he should have been asleep himself, not wearing himself out looking after me.' She sipped slowly, grimanceing at the taste of the medicines within.

Shortly Shalamar found her eyes heavy, almost unable to stay awake. 'I must have been more drained than I thought' was her last coherent thought as she fell into Morpheus's arms. Soft foot steps never roused her as the cup with its potent dregs was removed from the bedside table
12-04-2005, 07:50
Arithon halted as the massive bird landed before him. The demon lord couldn't helpt but stare at the odd looking creature. Out of all methods of transport, it was perhaps the most rediculous he had ever come across. Who the fell moved around on a large bird?

Putting aside his disdain, the demon lord levitated into the air and sat himself upon the charming creature.

"Let us go then bird..."
12-04-2005, 07:58
The next morning...

Kazar-Tiyon awoke, and focused his attention on one of the magical constructs that served as his scouts. He could see through them from a distance, though this took more effort than viewing a report, and it was the easiest way to get an idea of the time from the depths of the Citadel. The sun was up, he saw, though still near the horizon.

He stood, and stretched, then concentrated. His ebonsteel armor coalesced out of the darkness. He draped his cloak around his shoulders, pulled the hood forward to hide his face, lifted Shadowfang from its stand beside his bed, and strode forth.

He paused at another door, between his bed chamber and the room that housed the center of his spy system, and unwove the complex wards that held it shut. Entering, he looked over the collection of ancient weapons stored withing. he selected a long knife with a pale reddish handle and an odd blue-green blade (, sheathed it at his side, and proceded to the throne room. Behind him, magic sealed off the door.

As he had expected, Djer'kaal was eating breakfast in the throne room. His chief administrator was far more formal than Kazar himself, and spent much of his time there. The semi-living wizard stood and began to bow, but Kazar dod not wait for him to finish.

"There hasn't been much trouble recently. Can two of your Claws be spared for a little trip?"

"Of course, your lordship. What do you need them for?"

"Call it a diplomatic mission... or a hunting trip, if you prefer. I want them and ten of the M.B. squad waiting for me here in 30 minutes."

"As you command."

While the wizard hurried off to gather this force, Kazar headed for the kitchen to get breakfast.

OOC: I have a picture of Djer'kaal somewhere, but I can't find it at the moment. When I do, I'll try to get it scanned and posted (and also check about how I originally spelled his name). The M.B. soldiers are specially trained and equipped to "deal with" magical beings.
I will post again soon, but the library's closing and I must depart.
12-04-2005, 08:46
Half an hour later, Kazar returned to the throne room. Ten soldiers in the red and black uniforms of the M.B.S. sat waiting, and two metal forms stood silently nearby. As Kazar entered the room, the soldiers all got out of their chairs and knelt before him, bowing deeply.

"Get up. You will find that I am not over-concerned with formalities. Which of you is highest in rank?"

The men stood, and one stepped forward. He was tall and slender, with red hair and green eyes.
"I am, sir. My name is Mikail Carter."

"Thank you, Mikail. All of you, come."

Kazar strode out of the room, followed by the others. The gleaming Claws of Djer'kaal clanked in the rear. A few minutes later the group reached a large courtyard, where Kazar paused. He gestured for the others to stand near the walls and began weaving shadows. Darkness gathered in the center of the courtyard, condensing and growing until it formed a barge-like platform with seats for the ten soldiers.

"Get in. I'll explain where we're going on the way there."

Most of them had never seen even this much magic before, but they were well trained and quickly settled into the strange craft. One of the Claws crouched in the front; the other positioned itself in the back.

Kazar-Tiyon jumped suddenly into the air, summoning a disk of shadow beneath his feet, and the two constructs shot off toward the north.
Cats Keep
12-04-2005, 18:21
"Let us go then bird"

The words were scarce out of Arithon's lips when he found the solidity beneath him dissolving, and himself falling weightless, tumbling through unrelieved darkness. How long he fell was uncertain, but the perception was long, long indeed. Eventually he landed abruptly. A human would have been killed by such.

Sight was denied him, but it was obvious that his hearing had not been dampened. Small rustlings and faint scratching, a slow steady drip of water into a deep pool, faintest of all a slow reedy pulse like a giant heart dieing, all formed a low background surrusation. Movement, heavy cloth against stone

"That's a Demon?" The unseen speaker was sounded very young, and more annoyed than incredulous, s if their prize was a mouse not the rat they sought

"He's supposed to be, but, sheesh ..." Equally young, but perhaps female. and filled with distain.

"Well, hey, he's gullible enough. You managed to mimic a War Bird just right." [i]Brief cackle of laughter from a third, the voice disharmonious and heavily accented, coming from several feet away from the first two "Now that we've got it..."

A sharp, basso growl cut the exchange off "Fools! We may have clouded his eyes, but his ears can still hear" The words echoed weirdly, and were almost obscured by a blast of chill, foul odored gust of wind.. Scents that Arithon was intimately familiar with, ones that would set any demon’s mouth to watering

The basso growl was edged with cruel laughter now “Greeting oh would- be- once- again- lord of demons. You how have grown so complacent, complacent enough to be my next meal, I do believe. Struggle leaves the meat so tough”
The voice has moved closer and it take no effort to sense the power that writhes about this one.And it is as easy to tell that his full attention is on Arithon, the others ignored

Whispers barely heard, shuffeling of feet and a muffled sneeze "Naw a real war bird would have torn him in half for his carelessness, the things are bloody carnivores and more ill tempered than any normal raptor."

"What ever, can we go eat now. I don't think I want to stay and watch."

"Better stay or you might be the next snack. 'Sides it ought to be interesting to watch"
13-04-2005, 10:26
Arithon snarled loudly, bringing his hand up and spawning a massive ball of black flame that seemed to dance along his hand, flowing around his arm yet not burning the flesh or clothing. Feeling the floor beneath him, the demon lord dropped the ball of flame and listened as it quickly burned straight through the floor and would have continued to plunge if he hadn't recalled it. Satisfied with his very basic display of demonic abilities, Arithon spoke.

"I suggest you do not ask for a higher test of demonics. Also, remove your arcane blindfold or I shall remove it for you, violently. You bring me here to help you in return that you do something for me. Nowhere in said agreement was the mention of this hiding!"

Standing at full height, Arithon was the size of a tall human, muscled moderately and bearing fine, pale skin. Currently his expression was one of displeasure as his crimson eyes glowed dangerously, even if they could not physically see. The demon lord of course had senses beyond his body and was well aware of the occupants within the room. Ready to unleash dangers of his own if things went wrong, Arithon merely waited.
Cats Keep
13-04-2005, 17:33
"To help me?" The growl turned mocking "and oh please you have me cowering in a corner...NOT! as they like to say among the simpler folk"

At an unseen signal the human- more or less- members of the mage circle that had set the trap for Arithon left the vast echoing space, some eagerly, some with obvious dragging of feet

'Ahh a little privacy with my meal... and no I think I shall keep you in visual suspense a while longer Arithon, that is your name isn't it? My resources weren't certain exactly. But the Lady, canny as she is, is not impossible to track...just almost so."

Fetters, of cold iron forged to weaken a demon so bound, sprang forth from hidden caches and clamped firmly, burning cold fire where they touched, about Arithon's wrists, ankles, neck and waist. Cruel laughter filled the chamvber for a moment

"Oh yes as they say burn baby if you will excuse me, or" contemptous snort "even if you won't ...I have other matters to tend to. You'll make a nice midnight snack"
Cats Keep
13-04-2005, 17:49
Shalamar slept restlessly, held captive by the drugs flowing through her body, her dreams disordered and uncontroled. The Lady of Cats Keep found herself once again in the overworld, this time unwillingly and unable to control her thoughts and therefore the 'world' about her. Nightmareishly she wandered a wasteland that melted into garbage strewn alleys. Haunted, hunted, by something she could not catch but the merest glimpse of she fled, and after many changings and turnings found herself in a woods.

It was a collectively generated concept she could tell when she slowed long enough to examine it. The forest was old, settled, and very detailed -well tended by a people, that had much like the founders of Cats Keep, had agreed on certain 'realities' and joined togher to create them. And in an enduring enough fashion that it stood solid and real in the overworld. A feeling of safety came over her, dispelling the night hag that had been pursueing her.

Chooseing to sit beneath the limbs of a massive tree Shalamar sent forth her thoughts, seeking what 'mundane' reality fostered this woods. It did not take her long to discover that she had ventured in to the realm of the nation to the east of Cats Keep's new home. The nation called Tarlachia, and if she remembered correctly its ruler was one Sigrun Greenwood, an elf of no small renoun

"Sigrun...Sigrun Greenwood" She called out across the dreamtime, hoeping he would hear and invite her into his dreams
13-04-2005, 18:15
The faint whisper seemed to be like a call of sirens, calling softly, almost seductively. It sent its tendrils toward him, seeking his audience alone. In the otherworld Sigrun stood as a shadow, his face and features undefined beyond his eyes. And what eyes they were, seeming to see all in the dreamworld. He turned with a silent movement and strode closer to the whispering voice. Yet, even in this dreamworld, he was cautious, for he knew that some had the ability to harm others through the subconscious plane. He moved closer like a silent wraith, his footsteps unheard for they floated above the ground. Only the passing metaphorical wind was heard, giving any indication of his passing. He passed quite a many other unidentified conscious forces that lay to either side.

The Dreaming, or otherwise known as the Dreamworld, or the Otherworld was indeed a strange world. Here, forces traveled independently of one another. They did not speak to one another, unless their business concerned such interactions. As in the waking state, the Dreaming was full of sentient and non-sentient beings going about their lives almost as normally as they would while awake. There were differences though.

The whole of the Dreaming was ruled by one known as Sandman, but most of the time, he left the travelers to their business. He only interfered when there were to be serious consequences to the Dreaming. In this tale, he would not be called upon, for the matters of the real world mattered not in the Dreaming. Demons and other entities would not be able to threaten the mesh-security of the Dreaming. Thus, all would remain the same, no matter the consequences of actions taken in the Waking.

The wraithlike figure stalked closer to the one that called his name. He carried with him, a sense of ancient wisdom, of great strength seen by very few. He finally stopped at long last before the one who called to him. As he waited silently, he cast a shadowed hand, instantly transforming the environment around them. It became an undefined space, a secure location for them to converse without being overheard.

"Who are you to call me?" he asked at long last. His subconscious scanned the alignment and essence of Shalamar with subtle activities. His eyes remained the only feature clearly shown, the rest of his body cast into a deep shroud of constantly changing shadows. His eyes were dark brown, and reflected ages of knowledge and experience. Despite his obvious spiritual strength, he seemed to be a calming spirit, a sharp contrast to his previous life when he had been known as the fearsome Maximus Destroi, the vampiric destroyer of worlds.

He had changed much since those days, and he regretted none of it.
Cats Keep
13-04-2005, 21:49
Too weary to object to the change in the reality, and as there was no malicious intent that was discernable, Shalamar let it happen. And at this point she didn't really care

"Who are you to call me?"

"Your newish neighbor to the west, across the mountains. I wanted to warn you that you might not think of us as the best of neighbors though"

She wasn't certain why, perhaps it was nothing more than the soul deep weariness that dragged at her, but she didn't bother to change her appearance. The massive and nearly fatal burns she had suffered when Gaunt litterally went up in smoke were covered with patchwork of healed and unhealed grafts, pseudo skin meshwork covering her face, neck, arms, and legs to disappear under the simple robes she wore. Her hair, slow to regrow as were her nails, haloed about her head in a warm auburn swirl highlighted with silver here and there. A smile, lopsided behind the mesh, (part of her cheek had not finished regrowing, as had some of her fingers.) waited for his reaction. She knew what effect this had on most, and she didn't blame them
13-04-2005, 21:59
Sigrun remained where he stood, the everchanging environment pulsating around the two. He studied the other one who stood across from him, studying her features. Upon hearing news that he might not like their newly arrived nation, he scowled, his thoughts reflected in his eyes.

"I have heard of your recent arrival into Fatal Terrain. However, do tell me of your reasoning as to why you think your nation may be on less than favorable terms with Tarlachia."

He shifted his posture, despite its irregular shapes constantly changing. It seemed that he only existed as a mist, a ghost. In a sense, he was really a sort of the like. He was after all, in the Dreaming.
Cats Keep
13-04-2005, 23:25
Shalamar's grin faded with Sigrun's query, no little surprised but very pleased that her appearance had not gotten an outward reaction from him. Even her own people who had seen her at her most damaged still flinched and looked away, and none could bear to touch her.

She spoke with brutal candor "Because when the barrier comes down the Plague will be loosed. And your nation is among the nearest."

Sigrun narrowed his eyes again, "Plague? Are you threatening Tarlachia?" If that were indeed true, then they would find a serious response that would lash them back to the stone age.

Her eyes blazed at that and power began to swirl around her, coalescing into a visible mantle about her and in her palm a tiny figure shimmered into being, a three dimensional representation of a Plague Demon "Threatening you? No I tire myself beyond measure to come and warn you. We can't keep the barrier up for much longer and when it is gone they will see fresh hunting grounds. Forgive me for troubling your sleep. I shall not bother you again"

Sigrun held out a formless hand to the hologram of the plague demon. It floated closer and rested upon his hand. He spun it about, studying it. He looked up and shook his head. "No. My apologies, I was a little forward. Expect me at your borders by mid-day. You're going to need help dealing with these demons.”

He could remember the demon armies and the demon Lords he had battled twice in his long life. First, it had been a battle that had threatened the safety of all that was good in the world. Arithon and Nez’Gah had led it long ago. The second instance involved neither of them, for it was during the Star Trials, in which he faced hundreds of demons on his own, and their commander, the demon Lord known as Galrak. He had killed the demons and Galrak in a most stunning manner, gaining the reputation of being a demon-slayer overnight.

Sigrun nodded in return and waved his hand, simultaneously causing the demon mirage to disappear, and the realm in which they were to return to the previous state. He spoke once more before turning and disappearing into the fogs of the Dreaming, "I recommend you contact others to help, this may be too much out of control."

A whisper that called after him in the night “"Think me such a fool as to not enlist all the help I can? I have, elf king, I have. Kazar Tiyon and Arithon have agreed, and there are others yet I seek."
13-04-2005, 23:40
OOC: For audience understanding, CK and I did the previous post to this one together over IM. So don't go calling her a godmodder or anything :P
14-04-2005, 01:00
Turquine's sleep was restless, the holy knight tossing fitfully as it was filled with dreams of demons. It began as it had so many times, when the barrier had fallen between the world and the abyss. The demons had poured forth and his forces stood the line. Only the timely repair of the barrier had saved them, and even then there were those, old a powerful, who had to be tracked down.

As it often did it slipped to the demon lord Orcus who he had defeated on the prime material and sent back to the abyss. Later, a little over a hundred years later and only ten years ago, Orcus had returned for vengeance. It was then that his daughter had made her sacrifice. Not her life, but her soul. And once again Orcus had been defeated.

This, was different though. The landscape had changed and he didn't know where he was. He stood in his black armor, the diving red dragon breathing fire emblazoned on the chest plate. His shield was held in his right hand and the crystaline, god forged blade, 'Retribution's voice' glowed with power. Across the field stood his daughter, her magic flashing.


Lauralin stood on the field of battle in unfamiliar terrain. Such was not unusual to the adventuress turned Queen. She could see her father across the field and her magic swelled against the enemy.

'What enemy?' a part of her mind wondered, 'where is this place.'

Lauralin didn't sleep as others did, she needed only time to rest her mind, her body not needing rest. A vampiress didn't need to sleep and the transformation to this undead was the price she paid to win against the demon lord of the undead, Orcus. There was no way to enter his citadel without being undead or a prisoner. Her choice was to fight with her father and lose thousands in conflict, assuming they could win at all, or sacrifice her soul to masqurade as one of Orcus' own and get close enough to strike before any more died.

For her, it had been no choice at all.
14-04-2005, 04:27
Sigrun awoke long before the dawn approached the eastern borders of Tarlachia. He rose quickly, and wrote a quick note to Arleni to take control of the nation in his absence. Soon, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the night. He moved northwestward, to get around the River Aria. Then, he would turn westward until he reached the mountain range border that separated Tarlachia from Cats Keep.

He traveled fast on a construct of arcanic nature. It was a strange construct, seeming to be like that of a disc upon which he sat calmly. He kept his eyes focused on where he was going, directing the disc transport. He was used to such long travels. It would be about a thousand miles until he reached the outer borders of the troubled nation. He traveled fast, the wind whipping his cloak and hair about wildly. It bothered him little. It too was another thing he was used to.

With him, he had packed his sword of infamous design. Lanta was the name bestowed upon it. It was a demon's bane weapon, which shot bolts of electricity through its prey that tore them apart from the inside. In the hands of the reknown warrior elf, it was a most deadly weapon indeed.
Cats Keep
14-04-2005, 06:04
Still deep with in the dreaming, the unsuspected drugs hindering her return to normal sleep, Shalamar wandered the wavering terrain of the overworld, peering here and there into dreams that intruded on to the construct super reality.

One distant, a shared dreaming, and a powerful one at that caught her attention, for they dreamed of battling the powers abysal.

"But can you fight along side those powers as well as against them?"

Came the question in the father's and daughter's dream, a voice rich and female. A voice that flowed gently but undeniably into their shared dreaming

"For there is danger coming, and it is demonic in origin, but not from the dimentions of the Abyss that you are familiar with, not from the Demon Lords you have battled before. Come to Cats Keep if you would join those who stand against the Plague of Demons. Come and be welcome, seek me there in the real world. I can not stay here..."

Restlessly the lady of Cats Keep moved on, pulled by some undefinable sense of wrong. She was not really aware that she was draining herself to the point of harm to herself.
14-04-2005, 06:54
Turquine awoke with a start.

"Beloved?" Galadriel asked.

"Sleep, my love", he said in his deep rumbling voice, "I have something I must do." He kissed her gently on the head and got out of bed. Moving to the next room he quickly donned his armor and then went to Michael's room and knocked on the door.


"They hate me", Michael said just as he climbed into bed and began to lightly caress Eve's face, "it's thier goal in life to drive me utterly insane". Eve tried not to laugh but giggled lightly as the Security Chief got back out of bed. The knocking came again.

"WAIT A GODDAMNED MINUTE!" he shouted as he pulled on his robe and then opened the door.

"Oh shit", he mumbled when he saw who it was.

"Rather informal aren't we?" Turquine asked.


"Forget it. I need transportation to Dragonsreach."

"How soon", Michael asked the King.

"I'm dressed now."

"Right." Michael turned and looked at Eve who nodded. A few minutes later they were on thier way.


"To Cat's Keep", Lauralin answered.

Arleena looked at her. "What's that?"

"I am not sure. I am taking Shandaril, Baghtru and Brook. I shall leave the others with you."

"Why do you need to go?"

"They are in trouble. That is all I know."

"No specifics?"

"They are in trouble, that is enough."

Once she was dressed she kissed her wife passionitly and left, gathering the others. Her father would come to Dragonsreach she knew and so she awaited him outside. Soon the sleek lines of a ship came into view. Once the ramp lowered she entered with her retinue.

Turquine looked at Shandaril and then at Laura, "Answering the ladies question I see."

"Indeed", she said as she bent down to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

"Next stop", came Eve's voice, "Cat's Keep." The ship lifted and sped toward the Keep and the enigma that lay within.
14-04-2005, 20:29
"Get in. I'll explain where we're going on the way there."

Kazar-Tiyon jumped suddenly into the air, summoning a disk of shadow beneath his feet, and the two constructs shot off toward the north.

"The situation is fairly simple. One of our neighbors to the north is having trouble with a demon infestation. If they do not receive help, the demons are likely to spread, and there might be attacks on the Empire. That, of course, cannot be permitted. However, I'd rather weaken the army by bringing a large force to deal with this problem, especially with the current political situation. A small "hunting party" will have to do, if possible. That's you lot.

"Don't expect this to be an easy fight, but I'm sure we will prove capable of dealing with our opponents..."

-This brings back memories I haven't thought of in quite a while. That demon lord, Zorgathin, who set up a lair near the Var'driil border and tried to take over the world... That was before I even started working on you. And now I start a quest against demonic invaders again, the news brought to me in a dream...-

Shadowfang listened quietly, glad that its maker was in such an unusually good mood.
15-04-2005, 08:30
"To help me?" The growl turned mocking "and oh please you have me cowering in a corner...NOT! as they like to say among the simpler folk"

At an unseen signal the human- more or less- members of the mage circle that had set the trap for Arithon left the vast echoing space, some eagerly, some with obvious dragging of feet

'Ahh a little privacy with my meal... and no I think I shall keep you in visual suspense a while longer Arithon, that is your name isn't it? My resources weren't certain exactly. But the Lady, canny as she is, is not impossible to track...just almost so."

Fetters, of cold iron forged to weaken a demon so bound, sprang forth from hidden caches and clamped firmly, burning cold fire where they touched, about Arithon's wrists, ankles, neck and waist. Cruel laughter filled the chamvber for a moment

"Oh yes as they say burn baby if you will excuse me, or" contemptous snort "even if you won't ...I have other matters to tend to. You'll make a nice midnight snack"

Filled with rage at this attempt to hold Arithon against his usually dominant will, the demon lord fell to a bearly comprehendable whisper as he hard the last occupant of the room leave. That was definintely a wise move on their part as Arithon was quite ready to incinerate them.

"You shall regret this..."

For a moment silence filled the dark chamber as the demon lord seemed to fall back upon the wall behind him, ignoring the searing pain caused by the chains. The silence continued, longer and longer until the point where an observer would think nothing was to occur.

All light seemed to be snuffed out of the chamber, allowing darkness to reign throughout. A low hum sprung into life, barely within the hearing range of most creatures. Even if not heard, its effects were obvious as the chains upon Arithon and the stone behind him began to shake with the resonance of such power. The sound continued to rise in intensity until it was impossible to hear anything else. This continued for several uncomfortable minutes until the frequency shifted beyond any natural hearing. Two seconds of silence, then the shattering of steal and stone as the chains and wall surrounding Arithon exploded with lethal fury, many pieces being lodged within other walls.

Opening his eyes, Arithon stood at full height as he walked across the room. Noting the blindfold still bound his eyes, he merely waved a hand, causing a wave of shadow to sweep around his head once before returning to his hand, the blinding spell bound within the shadow. Looking down at the spell, Arithon snarled as he snuffed the shadow prism and its contents out of existence.

With the closed door at in his sights, Arithon merely glared as it blew off its hinges, allowing the demon lord to step through the smoke and look upon his surroundings, both hands flexing at the ready to unleash demonic energies.
Cats Keep
22-04-2005, 03:05
OOC: My apologies, but life has been a bear. If no one minds too terribly, I am going to say that a day has passed, that each group was met at the border and escorted to the Keep, the capitol (and first ) city of Cats Keep. All have been given suites, offered rest and refreshment, though the lady in your dreams has not appeared. This is the first joint meeting, but all of you have been given the basic informations that roughly 10 months ago the Commander of Cats Keeps Military wwent rogue and joined with the forces of the demonic armies in a vast attempt to take over if not destroy Cats keep. Cats Keep fought it off but at terrible losses - they have litterly lost at least 50 %f their population and some 90 % of their mages and psionics.


Corwin, his greying hair pulled back in a tidy quey, looked at Cats Keeps honoured guests, and continued

"We left our home Earth nearly twelve thousand years ago as time runs in Shadow, and portents arose that demanded we return home, and after a decade of debate it was voted on and passsed. But Gaunt and his adherents apparently felt that making pact with the Demonic Armies was better. Lady Shalamar managed to slay Gaunt, but not before is allies in surprize attack nearly brought us to destruction. Lady Shalamar, despite..." He searched a moment for a suitable word "problems managed to wrench us out of Shadow and to this Earth. We know it is not our original Earth but here we are...." His voice was grim, and carried overtones of ....shame? "With most of the Demonic Armies that had invaded still with us. We threw up a barrier to keep them in but it is fadeing, giving under the strain as they test it."

"I thank all of you again for answering our plea. Lady Shalamar did mention one other but it appears he will not be attending. Please feel free to ask me any questions that you may have."

He waved a hand and the center of the round table came alive with a three dimentional image of a Plague Demon. He looked from one to the other of those assembled. Kazar-Tiyon, Sigrun Greenwood, Turquin, Lauralin, Shandaril, Baghtru and Brook.

The room was a somberly but richly decorated confrence room, one wall a bank of lead crystal paned french doors, leading on to a wide balcony. Now those doors were all but hidden behind protective armor whos few small openings let in little of the natural light from out doors. The chairs that were arrayed around the circular table were spacious, plushly padded and very comfortable. Trays laden with glasses of assorted juices, teas, coffees, and spring water were ready to hand as were platters of finger foods.
22-04-2005, 04:43
"I thank all of you again for answering our plea. Lady Shalamar did
mention one other but it appears he will not be attending. Please feel
free to ask me any questions that you may have."

He waved a hand and the center of the round table came alive with a
three dimentional image of a Plague Demon. He looked from one to the
other of those assembled. Kazar-Tiyon, Sigrun Greenwood, Turquin,
Lauralin, Shandaril, Baghtru and Brook.

The room was a somberly but richly decorated confrence room, one wall
a bank of lead crystal paned french doors, leading on to a wide balcony.
Now those doors were all but hidden behind protective armor whos few
small openings let in little of the natural light from out doors. The
chairs that were arrayed around the circular table were spacious,
plushly padded and very comfortable. Trays laden with glasses of
assorted juices, teas, coffees, and spring water were ready to hand as
were platters of finger foods.

Brook stands behind Lauralin to her left, her arms folded. She is a
tall woman at six feet six inches in height and human. Her hair is
orangish-red and falls to between her shoulder blades. It looks as
though she simply cuts it with a knife. Her blue eyes take in all that
she sees with suspicion. She wears only a leather halter top and a
pair of leather shorts. On each hip is a bastard sword and across her
back, the hilt protruding from above her right shoulder, is a two hand
sword. When the demon appears she looks at it idley and when the food
arrives she takes only a glass of water and some of the food.

Baghtru stands behind Lauralin to her right. He wears black, spiked
field plate armor with dried, splatters of red blood on it. On each hip is
a long sword. His helm is a full visor and only his red eyes can be
seen peering out from the slits. He is only a couple inches taller
than the queen.

When Corwin announces that he will answer any questions
Baghtru raises a hand, "I have one. Where are they?" The half-orc
raised by an orc tribe and later enslaved by the zents to fight in the
pits had proved himself to such extent that they drafted him into thier
ranks. The man knew of only one way to solve problems like this and
he needed the problem in front of him in order to use the twin solutions
that hung on his hips.

When the demon appeared he leaned forward, "Hey! You have a sister?"

Lauralin hung her head a moment and then raised it again, "Baghtru,
this is serious."

"What?", he asked, with looks like that I'm bound to.."

"Baghtru Uth Matar", she stated firmly.

Baghtru leaned back, knowing that when Laura addressed him with his full
name she was getting irritated. Irritating a flame mage wasn't a good
thing. That was something he had learned from experience.

When the food came he removed the helm to reveal a surprisingly handsome
face for a man with orc blood. In fact only the upthrusting canines
revealed his heritage. He reached out grabbing a handful of finger food
and searched for the strongest alcohol available. Lauralin ignored this
knowing to pick which issues to address with him and which not to. Being
a half breed in his tribe his food was often taken from him and he had
never learned that he would not have to worry about that now.

Turquine sits beside his daughter. He is half-elven and about five feet
nine inches in height. His hair is iron grey and his eyes are glacial
blue. Knowing that he isn't meeting with the Lady he dresses in his
'comfortable', casual clothes. He wears a pair of worn leather boots,
worn leather pants and a course, short sleeved, wool shirt split down
the front to the bottom of his chest. His exposed skin shows many scars
though most of them are shallow. Two deep ones in particular are on his
face. One from just behind his left temple to his chin and the other
from behind his left ear to his chin, forming a rough V and severing
his left earlobe. The flesh of his face, upper arms, chest and back
look as though it had melted and run then reformed, a testimony to the
terrible acid of the black dragon.

He eyes the demon closely when it's image appears. When the food
arrives he takes a few of the delicacies and picks up a glass of wine.
He looks at his daughter when questioning is announced.

Lauralin sits to her father's right. She's five feet five inches in
height and slim. Her rather ample bosom and hourglass figure is an
example of her human blood, while the delicate beauty and small pointed
ears reflect her elven side, though her skin looks sickeningly pale.
Her hair is flame red and cascades down her back, ending only an inch
above the ground when she stands. Her bright, emerald green eyes are
intense as they lock on corwin through his discourse, her sharp mind
already weighting factors as he speaks.

The meeting not being one with the Lady she chose an informal outfit that
catches mens eyes, though it's not her intent to do so. It's a powder
blue, sequined dress that seems embarrassingly short for one in a court
and more especially so for a Queen as it ends just above the middle of
her thighs. It's also has short slits up both sides for ease of movement.
Having been weak she couldn't rely on brute force or stamina when she
had begun her adventuring days and therefore learned the art of open
hand defensive fighting that requires a great deal of movement.

When the demon image appears she leans forward to study it intently,
eyeing the musculature and taking in any natural weaponry it might have.
She also studies it's eyes, looking for some sign of it's intellect.

When the food appears she ignores it completely and looks up at Corwin,
"Is there a leader? Is there any protections you can offer against thier demonic powers?"

Sitting Idly off to one side is a raven haired woman with deep blue eyes. She
wears a sheer strip of silk with nothing underneath and leaves nothing to the
imagination. Her body looks as though it could have been sculpted by the hand of a god and made for perfection as is her face. She is a beauty beyond compare and gives off a palpable aura of sensuality that draws the eyes and minds of men and women alike. They half-succubus looks bored until the demonic visage appears and draws her attention. She studies it, trying to place the demon to one of the levels of the abyss that she frequently visits to wreak havoc.

"And so we have the face of our enemy", Shandaril says, smiling.
22-04-2005, 08:11
Sigrun studied the plague demon, watching it spin before them, showing all angles possible. He had dealt with a number of demons, but this was a variant he had not seen. He figured the demons were breeding new troops, new warriors to fight for the sickening cause of darkness.

Nevertheless, Lanta had a fatal impact on anything with a demonic signature. It would clearly affect these plague demons. It wasn't called a demon-slayer for nothing.

Sigrun looked up at Corwin and asked, "What have your people exactly done to combat the demons so far? Perhaps we might find a way not yet employed to defeat them."
24-04-2005, 02:58
OOC: Sorry for my absence. This week has been joyless....

IC: As the conference of those willing to help Cats Keep continued, the occupants began to notice a distinct decline in temperature and light within the room. A chilly wind spawned from nowhere and ran through the hall, sending chills down the spines of everyone present. Finally the darkness encompassed the entire room for several moments before fading away once again. The temperature returned to normal and yet the sense of something not quite right remained.

At this point, Arithon stepped out of the shadows. Wearing a long black robe, little could be seen of his figure, save that he stood quite tall and broad. He possessed marble white skin and jet black hair that flowed down to his muscled shoulders. It was evident this man was not of this world, and yet his simple human form mislead many. Only nine more years of his curse remained until Arithon could return to human form, yet perhaps there was an oppurtunity to return to his full strength much faster.

Walking around the room, Arithon gazed upon everyone before finally taking a seat, his stone cold eyes now fixed upon Corwin.

"Forgive my late arrival. It seems some of your peers aren't particularly welcoming hosts."
24-04-2005, 20:16
Turquine forced himself to remain still as the events took place even as the Holy Knights instincts screamed for him to take action. The soft, gentle, cold hand of his Vampiric daughter came to rest lightly on his arm and turned to look into her eyes. He relaxed at the warmth there and nodded though nothing was said.

Brook fingered a sword impulsively as she and Baghtru witnessed the events. Once done Baghtru simply snorted and went back to eating.

Shandaril sat back and rolled her eyes once the figure arrived. "Nice theatrics. There's theatres in Dragonsreach that would love to have you."
Cats Keep
22-07-2005, 05:18
OOC: Apologies to all, issues kept this tucked away- and too long to try and explain.

"Nice theatrics. There's theatres in Dragonsreach that would love to have you."

"And if you are going to continue in that vein toward one of my invited guests, you are welcome to theatric yourself out of here, as you are no longer welcome."

The voice was iron hard, low but carrying as Shalamar stepped into the roon. One hand resting lightly upon MBC's velvet skinned shoulder, or so it appeared until upon closer look you could see how much of her weight the currently pony sized flap cat was actually carrying. Her eyes gave it away the most, despite her flawless appearance, they were wells of exhaustion and pain.

The Lady of Cats Keep moved gracefully across the hard wood floor with its thick layer of fine oriental style carpets.

"Forgive me for being late. Assassination attempts always seem to cause delays"

Corwin paled at that and came to his feet, but she waved him back down. She had no proof on any ones involvement, and Corwin had been her staunchest supporter from the first. She was more concentrating on getting to an unoccupied seat, but waved of blackness rose before her eyes and she swayed, all but unconscious on her feet
22-07-2005, 05:35
Arithon was about to make his own comment when the voice of lady Shalamar entered the room, ending the potential conflict before it could even begin. Arithon's dark eyes watched as the lady leaned upon her companion, noting her week state. He wasn't impressed with such, yet she possessed the resources to give him what he wanted and so the demon lord would have patience.

The whole story of this political struggle and assassinations didn't particularly bother Arithon. He cared not for anyone in this room save himself. Afterall, if Shalamar died, he could merely wait out the rest of his years under the curse. Yet that was not preferable.

Finally her weakness peaked as Shalamar slipped into the world of unconsciousness, beginning a physical plunge toward the hard floor below. Rising from his seat, Arithon strode forward purposefully and caught the lady within his muscular grip. Whilst all that knew him would not have expected such, Arithon figured that he didn't want Shalamar changing her mind and therefore best to keep in her good books.

Placing the lady gently within a seat, he allowed her attendants to take care of things from here on as he returned to his seat.
Cats Keep
22-07-2005, 06:00
Shalamar blinked hard as Arithon sat her in a chair and the servants bustled forward to lay food and drink before her. She knew that she had shown unacceptable weakness but she was too tired to care. She'd repair any damage done later. And if the demon looked upon her with contempt, that would be a good antidote for her weakness for such as he.

"Thank you Lord Arithon." She would not forego courtesy.

"As to what we've tried...mostly every thing" She spoke grimly as she began to eat. She was actually hungry for the first time in many months.
22-07-2005, 06:20
Arithon merely gave a nod of acknowledgement and waited a few moments as the lady began to injest nutrition. Eating wasn't a major concern to Arithon himself, yet occassionally he like to indulge in the tastes of different beings.

"Not a problem lady."

Arithon noted the honest appreciation and smiled. In human form he was quite a handsome man, his long black fair and fair skin providing an attractive contrast that gained the attention of many females when he wished to employ such.

"I would appreciate all your knowledge of these demons. There are many of us in existence, all with varying strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes it is best to fight fire with fire."
Central Worlds
23-07-2005, 17:01
Shandaril, with no flash or fanfare, simply vanished before Lauralin even had a chance to turn around. Laura sighed but said nothing as she returned her attention to the woman who entered.

Turquine observed the exchange that had taken place, having stood and moved toward the woman, his chivalry to ingrained not to. He sat back down and leaned back to whisper something to Michael. Michael looked at Eve who only raised an eyebrow, before Michael whispered something back. Turquine nodded and looked back toward the woman, “May we assume, then, Lady, that you are the one who requested our presence? I’m afraid we’ve not had the opportunity to meet you or see you prior to this occasion.”
Cats Keep
25-07-2005, 09:02
Shalamar nodded apologetically "Yes, I am the person who was invading various dreams, and I apologise for the intrusion. It was the only road open to me."

"As as been said the Plague Deamons have been our mortal enemiers for many thousands of years. Until Gaunt betrayed us we had the upper hand."

"There are many weapons that will eventually take down a plague demon, those we have and will use. However it is their leadership cadre that is the true problem. One of our pilots , may his name be ever remembered, used a matter anti matter warhead to take out one of their greatest and his attendants, but others still exist. If we can take them, the greater mass we can deal with conventionally."

"I would ask that you all act as Cats Keep's Champions, challenge the Lords in their lair."
25-07-2005, 09:57
Arithon waited patiently as she explained the situation. Obviously it would do no good to simply run around slaughtering the enemy, they did need to strike at the officers and commanders of this demonic horde.

"Tell me lady, are these commanders particularly challenging foes in combat?"

Whilst Arithon had confidence in his own ability, he didn't know this other kind of demon and he was still under the curse so his own power was reduced to a certain limit.

"There is only so much I can do in my current predicament."
Central Worlds
25-07-2005, 20:29
Lauralin, having gotten the answer to her question, leaned forward, "Where, perchance, might these leaders be found?"

Turquine looked at Shalamar blankly, then Michael leaned down and whispered something to him. Turquine turned to face his chief of security and stood, taking him a short distance away. They began a low conversation between them as Laura continued, "Are they here, on this plane? Or on another?"
29-07-2005, 01:09
A flapcat wandered aimlessly to where Michael and Turquine stood speaking softly with one another..that was until Shalamar turned and gave it a firm eye. The tortie furred flapcat gave her a look of wide eyed innocense but quickly found elsewhere to be.

"Tell me lady, are these commanders particularly challenging foes in combat?"

Shalamar nodded at Arithon, as she answered his question, her look speaking of offers made and the keeping there of. "Yes they are physically very tough, skilled with weapons, and very well versed in magery."

"Are they here, on this plane? Or on another?"

"Yes they are on this plane. When I threw Cats Keep out of Shadow, everything currently within the Domain came with us. Their headquarters seem to be under the remains of Bordermarche."
Central Worlds
29-07-2005, 08:27
Michael looked over at Shalamar, "If I might ask, Lady. How accessable is that area? You spoke of one of your pilots getting through?"
Cats Keep
30-07-2005, 03:18
"If I might ask, Lady. How accessable is that area? You spoke of one of your pilots getting through?"

"Captain John D'Alton went past the boundry in to raw chaos" Shalamar could not repress a small frisson of Sorrow for what it must have been like for the martyred aviator "and came in behind the coteried escorting the Prince. He had, and used a matter anti matter warheaded missile on the group. we have remove viewing accounts only. His sister is...was... a senior technician at Star Gate Tower, and these are the visuals she recorded before she died"

A image as if seen from afar...

Late late afternoon, the ruddy sun still warming the weatern skies above the grey of the Shield Wall, then fire and destruction rain from the heavens as three tiny silver motes claw their way towards the stars, their comrades destroyed before they could launch. Every where the Plague demons, and devestation. Closer now a horde of the demons flying in formation to escort a fabulous fringed flying carpet where one of the Great sat in regal and protected splendor.

The three warbirds passing the protective Boundry layer, vanishing to survive as best they might in the raw and monsterous roil of undefined chaos and potential. Then one alone returning, It's pilot warped and twisted, dieing as he fought to keep his craft visualized and whole, but with the priceless tactical gift of coming in out of the sun. The missile launched, streaking ahead as no vessel manned by a living being could, the larger gleam of the launching craft following resolutely, keeping a lock on beacon for the missile.

The missile detonating in the midst of the princely airborne procession, the fireball eye destroying, life destroying, destroying ALL as matter and antimatter met in mutual annihilation...leaving nothing but a bowl scooped out the the land beneath, a city gone, but so to more than a full legion of the demons and one of their senior most commanders.

Shalamar watched the vire replay, then waved her hand to banish it. Her face was iron hard, she's wept enough for her people and she would not in public.

"We can not Step you into the heart of their Lair, they have some how developed magics to prevent that, but we can put you at it's edges."
Central Worlds
30-07-2005, 05:08
Michael watched and then was silent for several moments after. "Well, we might be able to launch a sneak attack. At least to start the assault. I can provide about half a dozen wraiths. Space and atmospheric, two man, cloaking fighters. Problem is we only have ship to ship missiles, EMP missiles and some ground scatterpacks. Nothing like what you would need. If you can provide the armament, I can provide the ships and volunteers."
30-07-2005, 08:33
Sigrun had been sitting quietly, listening, thinking, and plotting carefully. He glanced to their host and awaited his turn to speak. At last, silence filled the room for several moments. He took the opportunity to speak up.

"They have magics in use? I suggest then, turning their magics against them. Allow me to explain. Demons are infectious species, they infect their victims. It is likely their magics will follow a similar trait. Why not turn it against them? I think I might have a way to work that into a possibility as well."

He gave a sly smile, and silently thanked Kain for his knowledge on demonic magic. He had picked up bits and pieces of demonology and their magics over the years from Kain.
31-07-2005, 04:36
Arithon nodded slightly. Out of everyone here, he was most likely to know about the working of demons.

"This is true in some cases. There are many, many breeds of demon within existence and are all different in their own ways. We need to figure out just how these ones work before we can defeat them."
Cats Keep
31-07-2005, 05:12
If you can provide the armament, I can provide the ships and volunteers."

"Would our armament interface with yours though? We have gated a wing of Medusas from an ally, the Tanaran Empire, and they are willing to send volunteers. If the interface can be worked out a combined assault would leave them vulnerable... oh...My apologies, I don't know if any one has explained Stepping to you. Many of us have the ability to translocate from any shadow to another one, instantaneously..."

Shalamar reached out and contacted one of her foremost officers and requested his presence when he finished with his current business.

"I have asked that Colonel Scorpio attend, he will be a good laison with whats left of our military."

Why not turn it against them? I think I might have a way to work that into a possibility as well."

Shalamar had to admit "I am very little of a mage Lord Sigrun, and can little say as to the inner working of their magic." She looked at Lord Arithon, then around at the others at the table. "
Central Worlds
31-07-2005, 05:50
"Father and I have fought many demons, and I am sorcerous. I shall admit to having only just heard of this, but if it can be done, I shall assist", Lauralin offered. "I fear that Shandaril would have had greater insight into the workings of demons than I. As for the weapons", she continued, "Michael is, as I understand it, quite good with them. He has been referred to as, 'A Wizard', though I am not sure the term is completely accurate."

As Michael looked at Lauralin, his face showed distaste and even some loathing. Neither she nor her father noticed as her father nodded at her words. "Michael has managed to incorporate several technologies for me. We only aquired advanced technology recently and I fear that I tend to order things incorrectly at times. He still manages to make them work."

"I was a tactical officer in the Central Worlds Navy. It was my job to get things done, however I had to do it. Regardless of tech, there's normally similar ground rules as to how they work. I can't, and won't, say that I can definitly get it working, but it's worth a shot", Michael replied.