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Post by elementalists on May 25, 2007 20:27:48 GMT -5
[glow=black,2,300]Unlike his high spirited sister's, Ron Cleafsk's eyes were a dark, calculating brown, and now they darted uneasily towards the forest flanking each side of the road. Sherie might be comfortable in this kingdom, but it made him nervous. He had good reason to be so, after all. The four travelers, with their unusual talents, had attracted unwanted attention in the past, and Ron couldn't see why this kingdom would be any different.
Trotting down the dusty lane, Sherie seemed to be the very embodiement of innocence and carefree joy, but Ron knew that beneath her smooth young face she was carrying a lot of that past with her. Where the two siblings had come from, they had been shunned as evil witches of a sort, and practically driven from their home. Life was better now on the open road, for both of them, but he suspected that if Sherie were given the chance, she would settle down in a friendly community without hesitation.
"Hurry it up already!" she was taunting from ahead. Sibrina hurried to catch up, but the ever-patient Frost made no move to do so. Still unhappy with their decision to approach the looming castle, Ron hung back next to his taller companion.
A seemingly ominous breeze moved over his finely carved features, whipping a strand of brown hair into his eyes. Impatiently, he brushed it away. There was something about this place he did not like, and he felt suddenly naked and unprotected as they emerged from the woods. Almost subconsciously, he called to the shadows under the grass by the side of the road. Obediently, they leapt to his fingertips and twined reassuringly around his wrist, like a living thing.
Well, he admitted to himself as he glanced at the shadows, he could never truly be caught unprepared. Wherever there was darkness, he had a weapon.
[/glow]
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Post by Shadaras on May 25, 2007 20:56:53 GMT -5
"It can't possibly be that easy. I don't really know much about mental magic myself, just that it's really difficult to do. And even more difficult to undo."
"It still can't hurt to try."
“If there’s even a chance of it working, it’d be nice to try,” Shade said. “And if it works, so much the better. Besides, do we lose anything if it fails?”
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Post by Ikkin on May 25, 2007 21:33:29 GMT -5
“If there’s even a chance of it working, it’d be nice to try,” Shade said. “And if it works, so much the better. Besides, do we lose anything if it fails?”
"Well, there's always a risk with magic," Ikkin said. "It tends to be... unpredictable, particularly the first time you try it. I'm not sure what the dangers would be with whatever spell we would need to use, but I do know that certain kinds of mind magic can have awful consequences.
"There's no risk in looking, though. And if it looks too complicated for anyone in the castle to do... well, at least we've tried."
She walked to the end of the table, then looked back at Shade. "Do you still want to go to the library with me to look?"
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Post by Shadaras on May 25, 2007 21:55:41 GMT -5
"Well, there's always a risk with magic," Ikkin said. "It tends to be... unpredictable, particularly the first time you try it. I'm not sure what the dangers would be with whatever spell we would need to use, but I do know that certain kinds of mind magic can have awful consequences.”
“All magic has consequences, of some kind or another,” Shade said. “But it does seem like mind magic would have worse ones than most other kinds of magic.”
"There's no risk in looking, though. And if it looks too complicated for anyone in the castle to do... well, at least we've tried," Ikkin said, walking to the end of the table. "Do you still want to go to the library with me to look?"
Shade shrugged. "Sure. I don't have anything better to do, and we can look through the books more quickly this way.” She stood, moving to join Ikkin. “Do any of you want to help?” she asked, looking at the knights left at their table.
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Post by Tam on May 25, 2007 22:26:43 GMT -5
"No, there shouldn't be a problem with allergens."
Tamia nodded, and continued preparing the potion. She worked quickly, and would have felt comfortable doing so if it weren't for Kit's silence. He seemed to be quite interested in his surroundings and absorbed in his own thoughts, so Tamia was quiet as well. In truth, she wasn't quite sure how she should be reacting.
Oran also seemed to be drawing some unwanted attention, and he growled as he leapt onto the windowsill. Glaring daggers at the Grey Knight, he snarled disgustedly, If he so much as points one of those demon-tainted fingers at me....
Tamia started at the pure poison in his thought. She tried as hard as she could to disguise her voice with the whistling kettle. "What on earth are you talking about?" she hissed. Suddenly nervous, she realized that the kettle's dying whistle as she removed it from the flames might not have been enough to cover her voice.
The cat's tail flicked madly, distracting her. I stand by what I said before. Even the thought seemed to shake with uncontrollable rage... or something else. Be careful. With that, he leapt out the open window to the courtyard below.
Dumbfounded, she watched the spot where he had been until a moment ago. It was obvious that something had seriously upset Oran, and she couldn't imagine what it was. A dark suspicion crept into her mind despite herself. If Kit hadn't said or done anything, there wasn't much else that could have provoked the cat to such an extent. Is it possible that Oran can read thoughts? she wondered incredulously.
Of course, there wasn't much of a compelling argument against him possessing such an ability. After all, he didn't have any trouble sending thoughts to her; would it be so much harder to intercept them?
Weighing these questions intently, she stirred a polished cup of the tea and placed it in front of Kit distractedly. "As it turns out, it might taste alright," she mumbled. "Like pineapple. If it doesn't, then you should probably stop drinking it." Realizing that that was probably the wrong choice of words, considering the incident that had caused his ailment in the first place, she fell silent.
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Post by Dice on May 26, 2007 4:29:19 GMT -5
"I'll go," Pyro offered to Shade and Ikkin. She stood, swinging her legs over the wooden bench and absentmindedly cracking her knuckles, which belied her nervous energy.
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Post by elementalists on May 26, 2007 10:05:49 GMT -5
[glow=black,2,300]The kingdom of Dunburrow greeted Sherie with all the wonderful splendour she had always imagined it to have. Stalls lined the streets, merchats advertising their wares and mercenaries their services. Children ran freely as their parents stopped to browse the stalls, frequently haggling with the merchants.
Rising above the bustling street was the infamous knights' castle of Dunburrow. Its broad stone walls were a testament to its strength, having withstood countless battles over the ages. Great turrets rose high into the skyline, the flags of Dunburrow draped over them, displaying them in all their majesty.
Sherie couldn't help but to stand in awe of the castle's imposing presence. After weeks of travel, they were finally here.
As they headed up to the castle, the dirt streets gave way to paved roads and the houses became more noticeably wealthy. Sherie sighed dreamily, she would positively love to own one such house, with its lush garden and beautiful brick walls...the fact that they didn't have much money killed that dream pretty quickly.
The castle itself, if imposing when viewed from afar, was nearly terrifying to Sherie when she walked up to its iron gates. To think that they would be seeking an audience with the king that lived in such a place! It just filled her with nervous excitement.
A pair of guards let them into the castle grounds without much fuss. After all, they could hardly deny access to Sherie's sweet, innocent face. A few gold coins in the right hands ensured their unquestioned passage through the gates.[/glow]
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Post by Deleted on May 27, 2007 19:27:21 GMT -5
(( Alright, I'm bending time again: Wolf left the Great Hall after hearing what Jason and Emma had to say. ))Wolf sat back on the bench, his back pressed the wall of his armoury. He had been sitting here for a while already, yet he couldn't turn his eyes from the shattered remains of his weapon.
After the wolf had left him, he had walked to his bath and washed quickly, then dressing himself in his kingly attire, a pair of heavy, bark-brown trousers; his royal tabard, thick and dark-green, embroidered with golden leaves, with gold-hemmed shoulders caps; his leather gloves and the vambraces that accompanied them. His right arm felt empty, however, for the weapon that had been carried upon it but the day before now rested before him in pieces. Wolf fought to pull his eyes from the remains as he bent down to finish lacing up his boots.
He sighed heavily as he stood and approached the bureau, where his Claw still sat in pieces. He took its casing and slid it safely into one of the empty drawers, and then he folded up the silk cloth and the broken blade within it. After belting a leather sheath to his waist and securing his emerald dagger to his side, his grabbed a small pack and gently put the folded cloth inside it before swinging it over his back.
Feeling now no more able to discern the events of the day before (and uncertain if he even needed—or wanted—to know anymore after hearing what the wolf and his newer knights had had to say) than he had been in the Great Hall, he decided he would have to handle this matter before handling anything else.
For, as his wolf had said, a king needed a weapon, and, ergo, he ventured towards the smithy.
* * *
The smithy was near the castle, but it wasn't far from the city's entrance either, nestled happily in the bustling streets of merchants and nobles and peasants alike. Inside the building, Wolf neared the master smith's counter and called the smith's attention to him.
"My Lord," the man said, rushing forwards and bowing heavily, "it is an honor to be in your presence." The man stood and brushed aside beads of sweat gathering at his brow. "How may I serve you today?"
Wolf untied his pack and laid the cloth on the stone. Unrolling it, he said, "My weapon."
The smith's eyes widened and he gasped. "Whatever has happened to it?" He reached out tentatively to the shards, turning his eyes upwards, and when the King nodded, he lifted the first sliver and turned it over in his hands, dazed by the dozens more before him.
Wolf held his breathe, trying his hardest not to show the anticipation gathering on his face. What could he say, that a man had entered the castle and dueled him the night before? No, no, no—he could most-definitely not say such, not now, not ever, not especially to a man of service whose words would spread like wildfire and spawn fear and confusion in his kingdom. Wolf had to say as little as possible, lest risk utter chaos unfolding around him.
The smith, catching the King's silence, dropped the sliver onto the others and muttered, "Feel no need to answer, my Lord," he glanced again at the mess of blades and added, "weapons of such fineness as that never break easily, but instead choose to shatter as if porcelain, and always at the worst of times." He forced a weak smile, understanding the truth was not for his ears.
The man asked, "What is it that you wish for me to do?"
Wolf grinned. "Word says that you are the best smith in the land, is this true?"
The smith bared his teeth in pride, beaming, and said, "I like to think such, my Lord, humble as I am." A few boys, peasants training under their master's excellency, stifled laughs and snickers from where they watched the scene unfolding from a shadowed corner.
"Good," Wolf said, running his fingers through the shards again, the slivers moving upon each other as if they were beads. "I want you to forge me a new blade, one worthy of a king, of course."
The smith's eyes fell back upon the metallic shards before him.
"I want you to forge this blade," Wolf added, "from these shards."
The smith tightened his jaw for a moment, looking more closely at a few broken bits before setting them back down and straightening his stance. "In no offense do I say this, my Lord," he gulped uneasily, "but to forge a blade with the remains of another is to forge a blade that is weak and fragile, a fraction of the worth of the one from which it was born." He took a deep breath, holding it within his burly body, and shut his eyes tightly, waiting for his punishment.
Wolf nodded solemnly. "I know."
"You do, my Lord?" The smith's eyes flew open and he gasped.
"Yes," Wolf said, reaching into his pocket, "I do," he pulled out a small satchel and dropped it next to the shards, the coins inside it rattling melodiously, "and that is why I wish for you to use these shards merely as one component of the sword you will forge for me, using the best materials in the land. If you are able to do this for me, of course, you will be rewarded most-generously."
Greed filled the smith's eyes for a moment, yet pride and love for his country replaced it a heartbeat later. "Yes, yes, of course, my Lord, I shall be able to forge a sword for you, and it shall be the best sword you will ever wield." He motioned for one of his students to bring his signature pieces and his sizing equipment, and in the hour or so that followed, he studied the King's skills and his personal needs for a blade with such diligence that he would have been able to create such a weapon in his sleep. Then, he said, "I shall have your blade forged within a week's time, sooner if good fortune befalls me."
"Of course," Wolf said, nodding; he understood that good weaponry could not be forged in minutes, however convenient such would be. He left the satchel on the counter, promising, "That is but a fraction of what I shall award you for your time and effort if I am pleased." The smith nodded profusely, promising a perfect sword, and lifted the satchel. Wolf nodded, gazing deep into the man's eyes to make certain he knew the weight which this blade would have to uphold, and then he left.
Stepping back into the sunlight, Wolf glanced at the castle and watched as the castle guards gave entry to a small group of foreign troubadours. He gulped uneasily for some reason and followed after them.
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Post by zarikrahia on May 31, 2007 21:01:16 GMT -5
((REVIVAL, PEOPLE! REVIVAL!))
Zari disentangled herself from the silent city and returned to the land of the fully concious, blinking in the bright light. 'Calm now?' Zahaere Emaya inquired, examining her katana. 'Tza.' Zari sat down on one of the many piles of cushions scattered around her room, opened a book, and began to read.
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Post by Kat on Jun 1, 2007 1:30:40 GMT -5
Even though she sometimes got a little lost through the intricate maze of corridors and rooms that was the castle, Kat knew where most of her comrades' quarters were, at least.
While her left side supported Shino's weight, she reached out with her right hand and touched the doorknob. It shuddered under her fingers, and the door swung open, admitting them in. Wasting no time, the Purple Knight laid her comrade in his bed. She thought of dressing him up into something more comfortable, but after a few mental images, she quickly junked that idea.
What the heck, thought Kat, shrugging. I'm a mage. Not to mention a girl.
She pointed at Shino, thought of him in some comfortable nightwear - complete with pants, she might add - and focused all her power. Instantly, his clothes suddenly changed into what Kat wanted, and whatever he had been wearing a moment ago was now draped on a nearby chair. Plus, she didn't have to see him...well, she decided not to let her imagination run away with her.
"I hope you didn't mind me taking them out of your closet without asking," said Kat softly with a shrug. She tried to smile, but couldn't. She was much too worried. "You need me to...get anything? Anything at all?"
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Post by KitClairvoyance on Jun 1, 2007 9:04:55 GMT -5
If he so much as points one of those demon-tainted fingers at me....
The voice was faint, very faint; as if the person who said (thought?) it was trying to mask it from him. Kit looked around the room, looking for the source of the voice, his eyes coming to rest on Tamia's cat. Could it..? Kit wouldn't put it past the cat to be the source of the hate-filled comment. It sounded like a form of telepathic communication, something Kit had learned to listen for during his dealings with demons. Had Kit not been so close to the cat, he probably wouldn't have picked it up at all.
An odd thought came to Kit, could it be possible that the cat was a demon? Tamia didn't seem to sense anything odd about the cat, or if she did, she didn't show it. Subconsciously, Kit drew a mental barrier around his mind. There was something uncomfortable about having a telepath around, and Kit didn't want any chance for the cat to see into his mind. Especially if it was a demon. He didn't like the idea of a demon having access to the knowledge he held about their race.
The sharp whistle of a kettle cut his thoughts off. He turned his attention back to Tamia as she prepared the tea. She gave a quick whisper to the cat, confirming Kit's suspicions that the cat was not an ordinary cat. So she did know that it wasn't the average household cat. He wondered how much Tamia exactly knew about it. She seemed to trust it enough, letting it follow her all around the place; even though she knew it wasn't an ordinary cat.
Things just seemed to get stranger and stranger.
One thing worried Kit as the cat slipped out the window. In all his dealings with magical creatures and more specifically, demons; telepathic communication was something that only the more powerful, wiser creatures used. How much power did that cat hold? How much did Tamia really know about it?
He put his thoughts on hold as Tamia approached him, a cup of tea in hand.
"As it turns out, it might taste alright. Like pineapple. If it doesn't, then you should probably stop drinking it."
Kit regarded both the tea and Tamia suspiciously for a moment. Tamia seemed, distracted. And the last time he took some sort of healing concoction from a distracted person, his stomach killed itself.
Still, he trusted Tamia more than the odd healer back at the infirmary. He took the cup from her, blowing on it to cool it before taking a tentative sip. To his delight, it did taste like pineapple. It wasn't long before he downed the rest of the soothing, sweet tea. The next time he needed healing, he would refer to Tamia first.
He handed the now empty cup back to Tamia, his stomach finally at peace with itself.
"Thanks. That was rather nice actually." He said, a grateful smile finding its way onto his face.
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Post by Crystal on Jun 1, 2007 9:49:52 GMT -5
The Ninja Dojo was quiet, deserted. There were very few people, now. The ninjas had aquired other guilds, other homes, and so very, very few still remained in their ancestral dojo.
“It’s dead,” Crystal whispered. “This whole place is dead.”
The courtyard did not look dead. The cherry trees were ablaze with pink blossoms, dropping down and carpeting the wood and stone of the practice yard. It was just very, very quiet.
“It’s dead, and I was somewhere else, training to be in another guild. I shouldn’t have ever left. I let it die.”
She looked around at her home, and cried.
--
It was a very subdued Crystal who arrived in the Castle Kestrel that morning, wrapped in a cloak and her long hair tucked behind her ears. The yellow streaks bleached into strands of dark hair didn’t seem to shine as bright as they usually did.
She could have teleported, yes; all ninja could; but in a strange way, it would have dishonored her memories. This castle was home away from home, not the real thing.
That, and the scenery was beautiful. It took her mind off things.
Castle Kestrel, unlike home, was just like she remembered it; bustling and busy and with people everywhere. There were novices in the training fields and trees in bloom in the courtyard, and here and there she saw the armoured forms of older Knights, on their way to breakfast. There was also the scent of freshly baked bread, she noted, letting herself in through a side door. And strangely enough, she felt hungry. She hadn’t felt hungry for a long time. But it didn’t quite seem appropriate to her somber mood, really, and she hesitated at the door to the dining hall. Maybe just something quick, and up to her room for a bath.
The dining hall was about half-full, and she only recognized a few of them. There were some nobles in a corner, talking about whatever it was nobles talked about. But it was the food she was looking at. She’d never expected to to know everyone after being away so long.
Crystal stopped to listen to other knights on her way to the dining table. Ikkin, and Shade, and Pyro, talking about a library and magic. The Sepia Knight didn’t know much about magic, but she did know these people and the looks on their faces worried her. They were… tired. That was it. Like they’d fought a battle and didn’t know they had.
Breakfast in hand, she walked over to join the trio. It had been months since she had seen them. Something had happened in the Castle to make them all act this way, and she was curious, very curious, to know what it was.
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Post by zhunter on Jun 1, 2007 19:24:15 GMT -5
Kat had slung his arm around her shoulders so she could carry the bedraggled Knight to his room, so to return the courtesy Shino had tried to not put so much wait on her. He didn't want to have her become exhausted, even for a second, because of a slight concussion recoil. She led him through the halls up to the smooth door, bringing him inside to rest. Laying down on the bed, Shino was still in a slight state of shock. The room began to reel and as Kat watched over him, he found it very difficult to focus on the solids in his room.
The floor seemed to be shuddering at him and moving about in a violent manner. The stone window on the far side of his room appeared, to his unruly mind, to wish to collapse at any moment now. Lady Kat was pointing at him, or seemed to be pointing at him, as there was a sudden purple-tinted wave over his body. Hadn't I been wearing something else? Shino asked himself as he looked over his clothed torso.
*FLASH*
"Put him under, Servecates." One shadow said to the other.
"Of course, of course..."
...
"...Still we cannot waver in our cause. Our teacher would have never stood for this!"
"You know nothing of what he would have wanted!" One of the black-garbed men shouted at the other speaker.
"Regardless we must make a decision in the here & now, Barak." A cool voice stated, cutting the room in two.
"What would you have us do...?"
...
*CLANG*
"Good! You are getting better at predicting my moves, Shino. But you are not the best. You must never become so cocky and arrogant as to assume I will strike to the left. Rather estimate and be patient till the opportunity comes. You will be ready for that, I assure you."
*FLASH*
"-You need me to...get anything? Anything at all?" Kat was asking as the blinding light in Shino's eyes faded away to let stand the tranquil setting of him lying in his bedroom once again. He tried to focus on her question and realized that she hadn't noticed him blacking out again. That wasn't like Kat so he must have only been blank for a moment or two.
"I...I do not want to detain you, m'lady. Perhaps a hot cup of tea, if you please...Kat." Shino said as he rubbed his forehead again and again. Why were these images coming to him? So he had been captured the other day. What of it? Of course it was stressful to the last moment at the Coronation and possibly someone thought he was going to be the King of the land.
But it seemed, in the visions, that they had not let him go even after Wolf was given full authority. What was this all about? Why couldn't he figure it out like usual? Hard to puzzle a puzzle when your very mind is in a jumble.
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Post by Kat on Jun 1, 2007 21:46:29 GMT -5
"I...I do not want to detain you, m'lady. Perhaps a hot cup of tea, if you please...Kat."
Kat stood up, smoothing out her long robe. "Of course," she said. "You will be all right on your own here, right? I'll be off to the kitchens then." She somewhat reluctantly walked out of the room, looking over her shoulder anxiously at Shino. He still wasn't exactly all right, but maybe a little bed rest would do him some good. "Just...try to relax, all right?"
She was now in the corridors of the castle, her stomach knotted in worry. What was happening to him? Would the other knights be all right? Wait...wait, don't be paranoid, Kat. Chill out. Perhaps it's a little head cold...
Then again, little head colds didn't make people collapse. Maybe big head colds did.
"Anything wrong, my lady?"
Kat blinked twice, clearing her head and realizing that she was already several doors past the dining hall and the kitchens. Liarre, the redheaded maid, was staring at the Purple Knight while polishing a few suits of armor.
"No...I think I'm thinking too much," said Kat, forcing a laugh. "I'll backtrack to the dining hall..."
"You do that, my lady," said Liarre, going back to her work and lifting the visor of one suit of armor.
And as Kat disappeared into the doors of the dining hall, Liarre stopped polishing and stood there, arms crossed, still watching even as the Purple Knight was out of sight.
"Yes," whispered the maid softly. "You do that, my lady. Don't worry too much...save all that worry for later."
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Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2007 10:55:45 GMT -5
The Amarath Knight sheathed her sword as she stepped out of the training yards, grabbing her quiver and bow as she passed and slinging the quiver over her shoulder as she unstrung the bow. Having arrived last night, she'd figured it was probably better for her to keep her muscles trained than to socialize. She wasn't one for socializing much.
Ro Carajentas, Amarath Knight of Castle Kestrel and Lady of Fief Julan, stopped to look over Castle Kestrel for a moment. It was home, now. Or supposed to be, anyway.
She almost laughed to herself as she remembered the calls of "Farewell, Lady," from the few servants Fief Julan had. Lady! Ro had to be the least ladylike chica ever to exist. Some said she wasn't even human, but a hawk or bear in human form.
Nonsense, of course. Ro was as human as could be, without even the slightest trace of magic, animal, or demon in her. No visions, no shapeshifting...not even the ability to control fire, like her cousin. Just plain and simple skill with weapons.
She admitted herself into the Castle quietly, finding her way up to her room. Opening that quietly as well (and wincing at the creak that sounded), she unbuckled the sword belt and laid it by her bedside, setting bow and arrow down as well and taking a moment to lie on her pallet, on top of the brightly-colored red, blue, and yellow quilt she used when the night was cold. In a corner, just in front of a bronze-capped staff, lay her shield, a gold hawk on a red field.
La Fuega, she thought to herself, snorting. If I were fuego, I'd be down in the dining hall with the rest of them.
So what was it? Was she nervous? Anxious?
She snorted to herself again, flipping over so she could open her pack and take out the last of the food she carried--part of a cheese wheel, a roll of bread (the cooks at Fief Julan, at least, knew how to keep food from going stale), and a flask of water. Ro quickly finished it off. She knew perfectly well why she wasn't down there with them.
Back in the Fief, she was a master of archery, one of the best, and good enough with a sword to best all but the most experienced of the swordfighters. Here, she was just a green knight, the paint still wet on her shield.
She shuddered slightly as the walls of her room seemed to darken. She might not have magic, but she could sense it clear as day, and whatever had been worked here had been done recently, and it wasn't friendly.
Ro stood up and changed, dressing in a gold-bordered, red tunic, boots, and breeches, then grabbing the staff from the corner. She'd fix the 'new knight' part swiftly, she knew, stepping from the room. And surely the library had a book of Castle Kestrel's history, right?
Besides, she thought, what other loco will be in a bibliotecha? Keeping a tight grip on her staff, she headed in the general direction of the library.
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