Forsaken
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: abandoneddolly on 17-05-2011, 03:00:39</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>17-05-2011, 03:00:39</strong>
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				Ai was busier the normal today. The town was packed to its high outer walls with people. Some dressed in the white robes of the priesthood as all the priestess and priest from around the content had made the journey here today. Some in the flashing metal of armor as soldiers from all over had made it here today as well. There was going to be a big announcement from the Priesthood today. The Gardens were already packed in anticipation. There was no sign of Iarasis yet, but Anethrial his daughter was sitting in his spot at the front of the gardens in the Temple Council She looked uncomfortable and nervous&nbsp; with all the attention she was getting. The atmosphere in the garden was somber with tension. A big change was going to happen soon.<br><br>As contrast to that the rest of Ai seemed to have gone crazy that day. The merchants set out tables in front of their stores and handed out samples of there merchandise. Some of the items would be pretty disturbing to someone who wasn't human. They depicted&nbsp; dead elves, wolves and other creatures. Others boldly declared that&nbsp; Humans were chosen race. Their were also plenty of supposedly holy items and carvings of The Gods and Angels. The tavern was full of&nbsp; drunk people&nbsp; or those on the path to getting there. Some sung raunchy songs about war and the battles that were yet to be won. Despite the secrecy the Priesthood had at least half tried to keep on their business. Everyone knew that today would be the dawning of a war. Religious Fever had overshadowed Ai much darker then it ever had before. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>17-05-2011, 14:14:03</strong>
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				A hunchbacked bundle of rags hobbles along the edge of the streets, muttering and proffering a grimy cup to passersby. The streets of Ai are a cacophony of riotous sounds; each new street a fresh, tumultuous attack on the senses, but the beggar is unaware of the building excitement in the city, hobbling his way out of the residential district and down the long road towards the Angel's harp. <br><br>The hooded beggar doesn't for a moment glance at the armoury to his left. Anyone on the street can hear the frenzied clatter of steel on anvil, feel the heat of the forge, and smell the black smoke billowing from its many chimneys. Nor does he pay heed to the sprawling flotilla of stalls to his right. He has no need of sanctified weapons, holy talismans, potent potables, or any of the other dubious, likely fraudulent goods the bawling vendors proffer.<br><br>A chorus of cheers erupts behind him as a platoon of soldiers rounds the corner, singing a call and reply cadence to the beat of marching feet. As they stomp past, their sergeant cries a fresh verse, <br><br>"We seldom see elves though we wish them to stay..." <br><br>The men continue in robust baritone, <br><div align="center">"For whene'er we see them they scamper away. <br>If they run, we will follow, we'll smite them to hell, <br>If they hide, we shall slay them where'er they dwell.</div><br>A boy in gleaming military dress places a pamphlet into the beggar's cup, "Honor, glory, and ten pence a day starting pay," He trills and paces along to the next likely conscript. The beggar reads the bold text heading the slip, "Glory, Adventure, Exotic Lands". Under the words a handsome armored man holds aloft a gleaming sword. His helm is fashioned from a wolf skin that flows down into a cape, and he clutches an elfin noble's head. Gems gleam from the crown atop its head, and a droplet of blood hangs from its bulging tongue. He tips the paper into rubbish heap as he passes by.<br><br>The platoon is massed outside the Angel's Harp. A handful of squabbling early drunks spill out into the street, and the soldiers begin beating them to the ground with cudgels. When they come to tomorrow, they will be in the barracks, in like uniform to their assailants. This platoon will return tonight for the mercenaries pouring in from across the continent. When the drunken riot breaks out, they'll be ready to press more able swordsmen into service.<br><br>The beggar crosses the road as the last man is knocked to the ground by the sergeant himself. He sees quick fingers binding drunken hands with hempen rope, and then is gone along an empty alleyway between the bazaar and the priesthood college. No one is there to notice the disappearance of his limp, nor how his hump slides down his back as he straightens up. It's in fact a small pack whose strap slips easily into his palm. He tucks his cup away, and retrieves a grappling hook.<br><br>Laszlo pulls down his hood, and surveys the wall above him, noting that the windows nearby him are, as he had hoped, closed and curtained against the harsh noise of the bazaar that's attached itself to the Rose. Satisfied in his privacy, he swings the grapple, scanning the roof high above for the ornamental drain spout he'd noted earlier.<br><br>He grunts as it flies from his hands. Cloth wrapped around the hook mutes the clang of metal on stone to a dull clatter, and with a practiced swing the hook catches the rope and tightens around the drain. He tugs sharply on the rope, the spout doesn't budge.<br><br>He climbs the rope slowly, ever so slowly, bracing his feet against the wall before him and making steady, measured motions. He glances at his grungy clothes, the gray dust rubbed into them matches the stone around him to near perfection. Still, were a careful observer watching the academy's wall at the moment, they may eventually notice a gray shadow slowly creeping up the building. Were there a guard stationed on the roof, the rope would be summarily cut. The reward for apprehending a thief is 50 cents, dead or alive.<br><br>Laszlo hoists himself atop the roof, and pulls the rope up after him. Creeping across the rooftop towards the grand temple, he lays prone at the edge, retrieving a slim optic from his sack. He extends it, focuses on the temple, and begins counting guards and noting their positions. Several are on patrol circuits along the temple grounds and ramparts. He silently counts their paces. A dull roar is beginning to build far off to his left, the spectacle at the garden is what pulled his wall watcher and roof guard off their usual posts. Satisfied with the temple, he studies the formation of guards maintaining the rabble's distance from the garden. There stand his former wathcers, together and to the far right, armor polished, arms at parade rest.<br><br>Shifting his scope upwards, he sees the prize they are guarding. She's a lovely young girl, winged and golden eyed, perhaps the most beloved celebrity in the human realm, Anethrial, daughter of Iarasis. Her presence indicates her father must be nearby, perhaps he's the one making the proclamation everyone's been hearing rumors of for weeks. Curiosity trumps reason, and Laszlo is compelled to study the girl further. He notes her tension, the glances out across the murmuring crowd, fingers fidgeting with her robe, a slight twitch of the wing.<br><br>"What's in your head, little bird?" he mutters to the rampart.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kaisude</strong> on <strong>17-05-2011, 16:58:06</strong>
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				Toren slept soundly when he awoke to the many sounds of the people of AI. The night before was one of those nights for him. He still had painful memories of Annebethea and it was hard for him to breath. He felt his world crumbling around him, and his life force lessoning. He had to get out of the city and fast, but his body wasn't responding to his brain. He couldn't move, and he felt the rage returning to him. It was two years ago that Annebethea had been slain by his clan, but he still held tightly to her memories. Giving up in exhaustion Toren passed out on the floor of his home, and slept the rest of the day away. <br><br>Yawning loudly he rolled on to his back, and looked up at the ceiling. "What am I doing on the floor?" He sat up and looked around trying to remember what had happen to him last night. Getting up to his feet he peaked out of his window, and saw that there was a mass movement in the direction of castle where the priesthood resided. He quickly got dressed and stumbled out the door as he bounced on foot trying to get his shoe on. <br><br>Shutting the door behind him, he moved in to the crowd and followed along with them. He wanted to know what was going on, and well to be honest if the humans were doing it then he wanted to do it too. The breathing room was lesser than an inch, and the was pushing from all side not intentionally though. Just when some of the people walked they all sway from side. He looked up to see the young daughter of the Head Priest Iarasis, but not Iarasis himself. "What's going on?" He asked some random citizen, "War my friend. War." <br><br>Toren's eyes widened and then he looked back to Anethrial watch and waiting for something to happen. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>17-05-2011, 18:05:56</strong>
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				<div align="center">Cassandra</div><br>Cassandra slowly walked through the gates of Ai, hidden within a crowd of people that were moving. Her dark eyes were wide, never had see seen so many people in one place before. She didn't know what was going on, for all she knew that was how the city was everyday. The tower was good at holding the histories and lore of the country, but they cared not for the present. The crowd was pressing her toward the garden, but she darted through a gap in the crowd and ended up in the merchant area.<br><br>As she walked through the crowded streets of the district no one seemed to pay much attention to her. She glanced at the wares that would displayed on the tables trying her best to act as if she belonged here. What she saw made her nervous. They obviously were against anything not human, and though technically that was what she was, she as sure as far as they were concerned she would not be. She pulled her hood further down on her head. As long as no one saw she would be OK, but if they did, she was sure she would be dead. Ai might have not been the best place to hide, or was it the perfect place? No one would be stupid enough to use magic in these crowds. As long as she stayed hidden she would be OK. <br><br>She wondered around the streets of the district till she saw a tavern, and went inside. The tavern was loud, the frenzy outside had not escaped here. There was not even enough room for her to sit at a table. With wide eyes she watched as Solders and mercenary drunk and chatted loudly. She almost jumped when someone came up next to her. <br><br>" you want a drink?" The man asked. <br><br>Cassandra nodded, and dug in her cloak, pulling out a bag of coin to hand to the man. <br><br>"I haven't seen you before you hear for the announcement."<br><br>" announcement...Of course I'm here for the announcement." She said.<br><br>The man gave her a curious look, but went to get her drink.There was a fight going on behind her between two mercenaries. They started to shout loudly one pushed the other and he hit Cassandra causing her to fall down onto the ground as the mercenary landed on to p of her. Her cloak fell from her face and she moved to cover herself up, but not before what she was hiding was brought to attention by the other mercenary. <br><br>" Hey you're..."<br><br>Cassandra didn't hear the rest of it. She found her feet, and took off in a run out of the tavern weaving around bodies, pushing some of them down to the ground.She didn't dare look back or stop running until she found some refuge in an alley between Rose's shop and the residents. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheHangedOne</strong> on <strong>17-05-2011, 23:27:38</strong>
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				Arandur had quietly entered into town, his messy hair going quite a long length to hide the slight, anomalous tip to his ears; he did not have the long, slender ears of an elf, but his were noticeably more pronounced than a human due to his mixed heritage... something about himself he despises, despite his inability to have any sort of control over the situation. Not that many people mistook him for an elf or half breed; he was pretty damn stocky, and his gruff exterior was typically enough to make people just assume he was human.<br><br>His pony was led along behind him, burdened enough with his traveling gear and some small treasures&nbsp; that he did not wish to also make it carry his own weight.&nbsp; It was with a frown both wary and weary that he walked around the town, paying close attention to the words on everybody's lips. The whole town seemed to be pumped full of adrenaline, and all this talk about 'purging' and 'holy war' had him on edge...not that he outwardly showed it much. Arandur was a stoic.<br><br>He found himself growing curiouser about what was going on--forewarned is forearmed-- so, like many people, he found himself congregating around the gardens, though he kept to the fringes; not only because he was relatively late in arriving, but also because it was safer there, for him and his pony.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>bubby</strong> on <strong>17-05-2011, 23:43:33</strong>
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				Darkness surrounded her. Satin slide over her bare alabaster skin. Within her chamber, though the sun was high outside, it was sheer black. She lay atop her feather mattress, thick pillows holding her head gently. She lay in a state of sleep, raven tresses flowing out from her head, sleek limbs akimbo, looking for all the world a simple woman sleeping away the day. So far from the truth.. though she indeed slept in a bed, she was far from a simple woman. Though she had a house of her own, her bedroom, looking so normal with it's decadent furniture, was in a deep basement. And though the sun rode through the sky on it's merry way, she would not rise until it sank beneath the horizon. <br><br>Her name was Natasha, and she was a vampire. So, though Ai was in a heightened state at the moment, the Priesthood bringing the Ai and the surrounding areas to a frenzy at the words of war, Natasha was bound to her darkness. But she was far from helpless. She was an Elder, and she was capable of some things still..<br><br>Her mind went soaring, and as it did, it sought out those weaker then herself. There were so many! Silly fools. For one such a she, men were the easiest, and she preferred it that way. A soft sigh floated forth past lush ruby tiers as the first mind was found, that of a city guard. Gentle fingers he would feel upon his neck, causing him to freeze. Soft sensations working about his flesh, causing him to stiffen. For those few moments Natasha heard what was going on around the man as she easily held him in her thrall, and she found out that Iarasis was definitely stirring the pot. Letting the guard go, she went seeking again, seeping now into a Temple guard. A low grunt he would give as through his eyes she would see. In this mans mind she kept him still by giving him the vision of herself, naked form dancing for him alone. White flesh with a soft glow of pink. Ebon tresses sweeping over the full roundness of breasts begging to be cupped. The sway of full hips, the twist of a slim ankle. He was hers, and through him she witnessed Anethrial, sweet little celestial, sitting all alone, looking so nervous, and shy, and vulnerable. Waiting for daddy surely. Oh to taste the child would be divine. Rich celestial sanguine.. a decadent delight. Though her father would be better. To drink Iarasis dry was her goal, as well as the Council.<br><br>To remove the High Priest was to end this impending war. To remove the priesthood was to begin the decimation of the humans from her existence. <br><br>With another sigh she let the Temple guard free of her touch, not noticing that perhaps the lurker that was watching the young winged daughter might have witnessed the change in the Guard. Not that it mattered really. <br><br>Night would fall soon enough...
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 12:14:13</strong>
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				Laszlo's ears pricked, interrupting his gaze, footsteps downstairs. Curious students coming to see the proclamation.&nbsp; The telescope clacks shut just as a temple guard below stiffens. Laszlo is over the edge of the roof as priestly hands open a trap door.<br><br>The fall hurts, but the walk hurts more. Laszlo grits his teeth as his fractured bones and battered tendons knit back together. The red haze of pain fades from his vision, but the memory lingers in his abused legs. He drifts into the bazaar once more, hunch in place, limp more genuine than ever. Back to the main avenue, to home, to the plans.<br><br>A running figure nearly knocks him down on the main road. The figure, a girl, glances over her shoulder, and Laszlo glimpses a rune etched on her cheek, and smells the strong odor of fear. 'A rune mage, here?' She disappears into the crowd, scent trailing behind her. A guard staggers into the middle of the street, head whipping about, eyes wide.<br><br>Laszlo nods to himself, and the hooded girl is beside him again. She glances at him before running past the guard into another alleyway. "Witch!" He bellows, giving chase. The girl will run circles through the city for another five minutes before running through a wall and disappearing. Laszlo limps onward, following the scent trail towards the residential district.<br><br>He ponders the girl's presence, a spy maybe? Surely the Strati must be curious of the madness brewing here at the capital. If not, she'll have some sort of contract, the rune mages only leave their towers when good money is on the table. In that case he could certainly buy her out with the gold he'd stashed in the fields. No matter her mission, the girl is a fellow outlaw, perhaps an ally if the right leverage is applied. The grand temple has many precautions against thieves, with a rune's help he might not need the stone's finicky magic. <br><br>Her scent becomes richer, more concentrated, she's nearby. Laszlo follows it towards an alleyway, and peers quickly around the corner. There she is, recuperating from her sprint. She'd come quite a distance, from the Angel's Harp if the scent of ale was to be trusted. From here on out trailing her would be easy, but the alley is deserted, and should the girl notice him there would be no witnesses if she were to wield her magic. Time to use the stone. He contemplated for a moment, a bright eyed young man appeared. 'No, young man, dark alley, she'll bolt again.' A motherly priestess flickered into existence next to him, 'Close, but no clergy.' The priestess aged, her robes becoming light plate, a shield and sword appeared on her back. 'Perfect.' He looked at the young man. Try as he might he could not dissipate him, once more the stone was acting out. <br><br>The man smiled and mouthed the word, 'Tonight.' He walked off towards the north wall, disappearing in the market crowd. The illusions, the ones that refused to fade, always wandered away eventually. They'd never spoken on their own before. Laszlo slumped down against the wall, cup out, looking once more the beggar. A cold sweat dried on his skin as he nodded to the elderly shield-maiden. She stepped around the corner, hands up, smiling sweetly. <br><br>"Mage, I've done you the favor of dispersing your pursuers, might you pay me back by sating my curiosity?" She stopped twenty paces from the mage, "Are your services available, young lady?"<br><br>Laszlo closed his eyes, imagining the scene in the alley behind him, now was the moment of truth.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 18:53:45</strong>
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				<br><div align="center">Cassandra</div><br>Cassandra stood in the alley trying to catch her breath and recover from the chase. She was pretty sure that she had lost all her persuers. It meant that she could not stay here though. She would have to find somewhere else to hide. She was pondering over where to go when she saw the women. She moved back against he wall, and laid her palms of one of her hands flat against the surface. With her other hand she touched the smooth black stone that was hidden in her cloak. She did not want to use the stone. She had read what had become of people who used it to much, but what choice would she have. She was ready to run again.<br><br>What the woman said confused her.<br><br>" My services?" She asked and then realized she must be speaking of her magic. " I'm...I'm sorry, I appreciate what you have done, but I can not use my magic less I bring the attention of the tower upon me." <br><br><br><div align="center">Anethrial /Iarasis in the garden</div><br>The crowds in the garden surged as more came. The numbers and the fever that was running through the town started to make the crowds restless. Anethrial glanced at the temple wondering what was delaying her father. She took a breath and pulled her wings tight around her like a cloak as if they could shield her from the eyes of others. She slowly made her way to the center of the front of the crowd. Her actions could be written off as her usual shyness, but today anyone who watched closely enough could tell that something else was bothering her.<br><br>Her golden eyes sweep across the crowd. She cleared her throat, and then said in a loud sweet voice that flowed like music to the ones who were listening. " Greetings. I am glad that your journey found you safely to the gardens on this historic day. " She paused, glanced back at the Temple and smiled a soft smile as she saw her father slowly making his way to the garden. " and hear to tell you about it is my father, the head priest, Iarasis".<br><br>Anethrial made her announcement and quickly retreatted back to the priest and priestess that had been standing behind her. The old priest made his way slowly to the front of the garden. The crowd cheered at his approach. Iarasis looked at the crowd, and then pulled a scroll out of his&nbsp; white priest robes. His hands shook slightly as he held them.<br><br>" Our God's are Angry." He started. " The anger of the Gods is evident in the droughts that prevent the farmers from bringing fourth food. The illness that strike and kill our children. The Gods can be appeased though, they are angry at us for not taking care of the land. Humans were meant to be better then this. We are the ones built in the image of the Gods we should be blessed as their children. Yet we let others, heathens, ruin this land. Some of them try to hide amongst us trying to be us, others hide and think that they are better then us. From this day on, all imposter's shall be hunted out, All hidden shall be found and put into the cleansing light of our Gods glory." <br><br>Their was a cheer from the crowds.<br><br>" Tomorrow at dawn we shall march out on our first campaign against this taint. We shall cross the river and hit The red cross taking the dwarf's plunder. Once we thought that these men were equals to us, but they had tricked us. Hide their evilness from our eyes, and now we know that they are not any better then any of the other tainted. From there we shall go to the wolfen lands. Those men might try to hide like humans but we all now they are nothing but rabid beast that need to be put out of their misery. Any able man is invited to come with us and get the blessings of the Gods. For you who can not fight, you might ask what you can do. You can go to the Temple and pray for our strong solders,. You can keep your eyes open and if you see any impostors in our lands you can bring them to the light of God. I will not take anymore of your time. There is much to be done.&nbsp; At Dawn we fight for the Glory of The Gods."<br><br>" The glory of the Gods." The crowds cheered and roared. <br><br>Iarasis turned&nbsp; to go back to the temple his daughter followed loyally beside him. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheHangedOne</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 19:56:50</strong>
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				Arandur grew restless himself as he waited around for the announcement to be made. It was for a different reason than many in the crowd,&nbsp; but it helped him blend him; something he has grown quite accustomed to.&nbsp; It was just as he was about to leave--for the accursed thoughts, like a tar pit, had started to bubble up once more-- that the High Priest finally made himself known.<br><br>What he had to say did nothing less than absolutely stun Arandur. Oh, by the Gods. Was this man serious? He must be mad to be advocating genocide...<em>The only one that should die is him.</em> Came one of those thoughts, pounding against his psyche. <em>Self defense! Self defense. He'll get you killed, unless you kill him first...take the head from the serpent, and it will all fall apart...</em> It urged him, tried to appeal to his most basic of instincts: his own continued survival.<br><br>He could even visualize himself shooting an arrow through the High Priest's head...and that's how he knew he'd had far, far too much excitement today. He needed to get away from here, get somewhere quiet and calm, where he'd better be able to withstand the psychic assault of the accursed Stone he carried.<br><br>Once the announcement was over, and others were beginning to disperse, Arandur found himself doing the exact same thing.&nbsp; He'd have to find an inn to stay at tonight.&nbsp; Trying to leave the gates now would likely alarm the gate guards, and beyond all that, he was both hungry and thirsty...though he did remind himself to take it easy on the ale. The cloud of drunkenness could make it much harder for him to stave off the Stone's desire. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 22:33:39</strong>
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				"A fugitive?" He muttered, the shield-maiden parroted him around the corner. He should doubt her, he would, but the nose does not lie. Her fear is strong, even from where Laszlo sits outside the alley. Two uses of the stone for nothing. Maybe not, after all the girl's an easy target, perhaps carrying a few magical goods. Then again, given an immediate threat, the distant one of mage's enforcers might go out the window. The prospect of writhing in the alley, growing back flesh for an hour flicked through his mind. No, if she won't fall for granny, then he'll have to cut this one loose for now. He nodded again, and she spoke,<br><br>"Your road is a hard one, young lady. You need not fear the Strati here girl, but Ai is no friend to mages. So I extend a courtesy, one outlaw to another, my name is Siriel, and if you have need of a guide, I am at your service." <br><br>The old woman bowed, and Laszlo waited.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>18-05-2011, 23:02:49</strong>
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				<div align="center">Cassandra</div><br>Cassandra took a step back pressing the back of her leg against the wall.&nbsp; A guide? She&nbsp; could use one. She had no clue to what she was doing. It was probably apparent to, by the way she blew her cover about five minuets after she entered the town.If that was really what she wanted, the woman could just being nice to her, to get her to go along with her and then turn her in. She thought it over for another moment, and decided to trust her. If it all was some sort of trap, she could use her magic to get out. If it came down to dieing, or a chance the Strati might find out where she was she would take the chance of using her skills.<br><br>" an outlaw?" <br><br>She took a step away from the wall. Her hand moved away from the stone she had hidden in her cloak. <br><br>" my names Cassandra. I suppose I could use a....guide...If it wouldn't be too much trouble." 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>19-05-2011, 00:44:58</strong>
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				Laszlo smiled, the game was afoot. He tucked his cup away and stood up sprouting a flowing white beard. A walking stick appeared in his hand, he leaned on it, adjusting his pack. Rather than a hunch back, he now had an ale gut. He needed to get her somewhere they could talk, "Always pick their minds before you fleece their pockets," his master had reminded him.<br><br>In the alleyway, Siriel spoke, "Well met, Ms. Cassandra. I'll tell you my tale at the Elderwood, and you can tell me yours. I like to know I've got a trustworthy client before I make any arrangements, I assume you'll be feeling the same way. You'll like the inn, probably the last place in town where a girl can get sleep without curious guardsmen poking about, asking questions."<br><br>She smiled and stepped out of the alleyway, signaling the girl to follow, "I will not lie though, the ale leaves much to be desired."<br><br>Laszlo walked on ahead of her, no one ever checks in front of them for a tail, and Siriel set off behind him for the inn at the edge of the residential district.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>19-05-2011, 02:24:20</strong>
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				<div align="center">Casandra</div><br>Casandra wasn't sure if she should follow her or not.&nbsp; Was this the part where she followed her into some trap. At least in the alley she could shadow walk into somewhere safer. Still she followed. She pulled on the hood of her cloak making sure it was far enough down that no one could see that she was rune carved. She would not be making that mistake twice.&nbsp; Cassandra&nbsp; followed in silence watchful for any signs that this could be a trap. <br><br>She followed behind her glancing around at the people that she passed. The streets were not nearly as packed as they had been as the day drew to a close. The sun was starting to go down into the horizon and the fever that had held Ai all day was starting to still.&nbsp; <br><br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>19-05-2011, 15:11:46</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo slipped into the Elderwood, glancing back to check on the women following. Siriel was pointing out shops and prattling about local landmarks, all knowledge from the thief's head. The mage was terse, eyes sweeping about under her dark hood. Laszlo concentrated on a convincing history for the shield maiden.<br><br>He made his way to the small tavern on the first floor and signaled to the husky inn keep.<br><br>"Those two," he pointed to the women sweeping through the door, "are my guests, their expenses go on my tab." He handed the man a single gold coin, and received a silent nod and a warm pint. Laszlo glanced around the room. There were a few gruff men in the corner, playing at dice. He could see the winner's excitement, but the smell was smothered by the blue pipe smoke issuing from the glassy eyed greybeard by the fireplace.<br><br>Still yammering, Siriel sidled to a table against the wall, and waved at the inn keep, "Two of your finest, love," She settled into one of the rough chairs. Hood down, Laszlo kept an ear to their conversation, Siriel's sordid past completely laid out in his head. Getting Cassandra's cooperation had been difficult enough, her trust would require great control of Siriel, the spectral shield maiden had to be convincing. She began.<br><br>"So then love, I gave you my word, seeing as your foes are a touch further off than mine, I'll introduce you to my past first, seeing as you'll likely hear from them's in it sooner." The inn keeper dropped two foamy mugs on the table, Siriel clutched hers and leaned back. "Neither of us dare show their face around the greater part of this city, you for that trifle on your cheek, and I for a mark I received a long time ago on my dignity. You wouldn't know it from the sermons you hear at temple these days, but used to be that people didn't raise a fuss when there was a pair of breasts behind a breastplate." She grinned and tapped hers with the mug, spilling some of her ale in the process. "I was in the service then, a lady paladin, off a'questing with some old clergymen, had to guard the old farts on their way out to the elven woods, Ronana. Some stupid bugger up top'd come up with the idea of setting up a mission, converting the elves." She snorted, "Well, for some daft old fool's naivety, my companions and I fought many a nasty bout with bandits out in the wilds, must've been after the golden tabernacle we were hauling out to the mission. I caught a few arrows myself." She sighed, her free hand drifted to her belly. Behind her a commotion broke out as one of the gamblers noticed the stoned man by the fireplace had caught flame. He giggled as the frenzied man patted it out. Siriel spilled more ale as she turned to look. A bead of sweat ran down Laszlo's face. He nursed his mug.<br><br>Siriel turned back, "Well if that were all there was to the story, we wouldn't be here enjoying the ale and gentlemanly company. As it happened, when we finally arrived at the mission, of the ones who'd survived, I had the best sword arm, and so when time came for Father Langley to venture into the woods, I was the diplomatic arrow stopper." She sneered, "Well, getting us out of there was bound to take a miracle, and gods know a miracle did happen in that forest, I met my husband, gods rest his soul." She smiled and reached up a hand up to shift a few strands of grey hair, her gaze lost in reverie, "You wouldn't know it now, but in my time, I was quite the eyeful, and this ranger, Maelven, the one who found us, he was quite taken with me." She adjusted her grey hairs again and locked eyes with Cassandra, gripping her ale again tightly, "Now normally, a proper girl like me wouldn't throw in with heathen types, but the elf had such a such a skilled tongue," She gestured with her mug and grinned, sloshing a bit more over the side, "By which I mean he had a gift at speech, though gods know he had other gifts as well. Y'see we were in that elf village an awful long time, about a year and a half, and time changes a young lady, even changed Father Langley, gods bless him, by the end he was ready to carry a dip-lo-matic mission back here, try to bridge the gap between us and the elves. While he and the Fey tended those matters, Maelven and I, well gods know we'd have had a few children of our own had a bandit's arrow not struck me barren as the rock of Red Stone, but then I suppose it was all for the best," Her speech drifted off and she touched her belly again, mug sloshing in hand. The gamblers got up and paid their bill. One sobbed leaning on the other, who sternly admonished his stupidity. The winner tipped the inn keep a heavy gold coin and retired to his room upstairs. Laszlo focused, the last lines had to be convincing, a strong finish. The opiate fiend snored.<br><br>"You see, it turned out the boys at the mission'd thought Langley and I dead for all that long time. They sent the cavalry in, retaliatory strike." She stared at her nearly empty mug, "Village was razed, Maelven slain, and Langley and I clapped in irons, both of us being heretic dissidents. The old priest died on the march back, I'd have died too were it not for those bandits. Managed to escape during a raid." She set her hands at her thighs, wry wrinkles settling along her face as she smiled once more at Cassandra, "Well, like me mum always said, 'A woman has no business growing old alone.' Very true. Had I been saddled with few of Maelven's babes that'd be the end of my adventure, I'd have holed up somewhere in the wilds and raised'em." Siriel fixed a steely gaze on Cassandra, "But on my own, I got these funny ideas of revenge, striking back at the one's who'd taken it all away from me. So I did what any daft widow would do and rounded up the other survivors from the elf village, and we burned the Ronana mission to the ground." She set her mug on the table, and leaned back in her chair, "Since then, my friends and I have been spying all throughout the human lands, sending what news we can back to the woods, as a human, and a native to the city, only made sense for me to be the sneak here in Ai."<br><br>Siriel leaned over the table, setting her chin on her hands, measuring Cassandra with her gaze, "Now we're on equal footing, I run outside and scream 'witch' and they'll run you out, you let it out I'm a spy and I'm hung at dawn. You seem the nice type miss, and I've no quarrel with mages, but before I offer you any kind of protection I need know, what crime brought you here to Ai?"<br><br>Laszlo let out a deep sigh, and downed the rest of his pint, waving the inn keeper over to refill it. Thunderstorms, hails of arrows, and castles made of glass were infinitely easy illusions compared to a properly crafted personality, he'd cursed himself for buying both their drinks, any sip Siriel would've taken would spill right through her lips onto the chair, but he'd managed to lose most of a pint without her drinking. Again it all came down to the flighty mage. If he was lucky there may be some loot to be had this night, if not he may need to find a new inn.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>19-05-2011, 16:09:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center">Cassandra</div><br>Cassandra listened to the women's tale deciding rather or not to trust her. Her attention was divided between her and the other activities of the inn.She was still very nervous, and looked as if she was ready to bolt at any time. As she listened to her story, and started taking sips of the ale she started to calm a little. She decided until something might happen to say other wise, she would believe her.She didn't have much choice, she needed someone who knew their way around.<br><br>" My crime..." She ponder as she took another sip of Ale.&nbsp; " Is that I wanted freedom...I was conscripted into the tower at the age of five.I spent most of my life in that prison of a tower.&nbsp; The only ones who get to go outside are the elders are others that they are sure they have on a short lease. Sadly that wasn't me. " She paused again and looked around the inn. " I hold the tower no ill will, they helped me get powerful. I am very powerful, If you could see what the cloak was hiding." She smiled slightly at the ranking she had made at the tower. " runes hurt a lot by the way, sadist bastards, was always hold up in my room for days after they added another one." <br><br>Cassandra paused again pondering over rather to tell her about the stone or not. The tower had taken it on themselves to collect all the stones sense they were magical in nature, they thought they belonged there. The stone of Movement had been all they had managed to find when she stole it.&nbsp; " I just began to think there must be more then learning spells and histories, so one day I find an opportunity to escape and I did so.&nbsp; The tower doesn't take to kindly to people running away though, They have seers who can sense if I use my magic. So its best if I don't use any. If I get discovered as a mage here I'll get run off or killed, If the tower finds me. They don't kill their own, they will drag me back to that tower, and...." She shivered at just the thought of it. " I don't even want to think of what will happen."<br><br>" I decided Ai was my best bet. Since it is where all the righteous magic hating priest like to live. I didn't think they would want to start a fight here ...but its a lot bigger then I had expected." <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>20-05-2011, 00:40:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo sips his ale. The Strati are a tighter group than he'd thought, he'd have to remember that if he ever ran into one again. This one claims to be powerful, although the few mages he'd met had all been boastful. She doesn't look the type to brag. Gods but he had hoped she was a thief, on the run with some stolen grimoire or magical weapon, however, her trail was running cold, and it was time to scrap the heist, and focus on his mission. Were it not for this he'd be upstairs preparing right now. The girl might have a few trinkets on her, Laszlo doubts they are worth the trouble. He'll cut this one loose, it's time 'Siriel' disappears before the stone starts acting up again.<br><br>Siriel stands up, and adjusts her armor, "Well miss, I believe you. Gods know it's what I'd do at your age anyways, nice to get out and see the world while you're young enough to enjoy it. You can have my services if you like, I know where folk like us can go to get a meal or a new change of clothes without rousing the rabble's suspicion, show you how to earn a keep without paying tax or whoring, and teach you where not to be and when. There are certain places round here the guards use to fill their quota. I'd start you tonight, but I've got errands to run, previous engagements." She makes her way to the door, "If you've no arrangements, you can stay here tonight, I guarantee there'll be no trouble. If not, you can meet me here for dinner tomorrow, we can discuss fees then. Night miss." She sweeps out the door, and Laszlo finally lets go of the reins, and relaxes into his seat. He waves the keep over again<br><br>"Inn keep, if that girl stays here tonight, it's on the old woman's bill." He hands over another gold coin, and the keep nods silently, "I'll be taking this to my room, send up some bread and chicken after me."<br><br>Laszlo stands up slowly, and makes his way to the stairs, gingerly stepping like an old man. He glances back at the girl. If all went to plan, 'Siriel' would not be back tomorrow, or any other night for that matter, he doubted he'd ever resurrect the bawdy old woman. No, tomorrow he should be on his way out of town, gold in hand, secrets in head. The girl would sink or swim, he'd wasted enough precious time and gold on her. He walks up the stairs. Time to focus on his real mission, the temple. He opens the door to his room, and finds himself frozen in place.<br><br>There, dozing on the bed, is the bright eyed young man he'd made a few hours earlier. He's come back as promised. Laszlo hears footsteps downstairs, the inn keep is coming up with food. He steps into his room and sets his walking stick aside, the inn keep slips in and quietly places his food on the wash table, Laszlo glances from the boy to the swarthy, unassuming man.<br><br>"This one is also my guest." He says, breaking out in a cold sweat. The innkeeper glances around the room and frowns, then nods and backs out of the room slowly, not moving his eyes from Laszlo. Laszlo stares at the sleeping young man, hadn't the inn keep seen him? No matter what the case, he was no threat, Laszlo reminds himself. He takes his plate and quickly eats the cold chicken and hard bread. The boy dozes on, seemingly unaware. He sets the plate down and gathers his things from the chest at the foot of the bed, tools he'll need for the night ahead. He snatches his set of picks and his drill, wrapping them in cloth, they'll be quiet in his pack. He thinks for a moment and grabs a small, clinking bag as well. He closes the lid of the chest, stopping halfway. The young man is sitting up in bed, staring at him. How had he missed the sound of his movement?!<br><br>He squats there for a long time, lid in hands, eye wide in apprehension. The boy stares. "Fuck this," he slams the lid down and quickly walks out, illusory walking stick abandoned. As he closes the door another glimpse of the young man shows him sitting on the edge of the bed, tracking Laszlo with a blank smile. He closes the door and hurries out of the Elderwood, beard vanishing as he tugs it away outside. His heart is pounding, and his hand hurts. He looks down and opens it, the stone is squeezed tight in his palm, cutting into his fingers. He stares at it for a long moment, feeling his sweat cool in the night air.<br><br>"When I've no need of you, friend, we're taking a boat ride down the river, and I'll be casting you into deepest, blackest waters I can find," He growls. The stone shimmers.<br><br>He tucks it into its pouch around his neck and makes his way down the road towards the temple, concentrating on remembering the layout of the building. He'd hit the academy a week before, picked through it's library but found few leads. The tome on history of the priesthood's many temples had been a godsend, there were many etched diagrams of the grand temple here in Ai. He hopes there have been few modifications to the layout since. Of his quarry he'd found nothing he hadn't already known. An old tome of history mentioned him, a werewolf named Kerklos, master scholar, warrior, and alchemist, lived most of his life exiled from the clans in Ronana, and died at the battle of Crescent Glen over 600 years ago. The dusty tome hadn't mentioned the most important detail.<br><br>Years before, when he was starting out on his quest, he'd taken to learning werewolf history, hoping to find some clue of where to start. It was a difficult thing to study, as most werewolves are illiterate, most he found by raiding dwarven history vaults, as the beards obsessively document everything they know. Years passed, and he had begun to loose hope that any had ever beaten the Rage, when he read within&nbsp; 'Valbere's Anciente Hystorys,' the dwarven account of Crescent Glen. It had said, in a small note, that on the day Kerklos died, he had been 67 years of age.<br><br>Werewolves are a strong people, but very transient as well, long lived as the humans they appear to be. For one to make it to 40 without succumbing to the Rage was a feat of great concentration. Once in a generation, an elder of extreme wisdom might make it to his 50th year without loosing all human faculties, but out of all the renowned werewolves of history Laszlo had researched, none had lived to anywhere near 60 on two legs. In that regard, Kerklos was unique, most credited this to his extreme mental capacity, but 'Valbere's,' the most complete history he had read yet, attributed it to an elixir the man had concocted. He'd drank it at Crescent Glen, and at 67 years it had staved off the Rage in heated combat. Such a feat is unheard of. If such an elixir existed, its boon to Laszlo, or any werewolf, would be a life free of the raging temper that begins to build over the years. The priesthood of Ai had many scrolls of history and lore to be found nowhere else, and are healers and alchemists of great repute. Were there to be a copy of Kerklos's formula, their lore vault in the grand temple may well hold a copy. Hopefully it had not long since been burned out of spite.<br><br>Laszlo looks up at the night sky, the weather is as he'd hoped, overcast, and a good thing too. The moon would be full tomorrow night, and even now with the clouds obscuring it, Laszlo can feel a dull throbbing near the back of his eyes. It'd be impossible to resist tomorrow, but without the cloud cover it would've distracted him beyond his wits tonight. He arrives at the temple walls.<br><br>He waits. A slight breeze picks up, and he retrieves his grapple. Footsteps clack by above. Laszlo swings the grapple counting slowly to twenty. It whizzes up, looping around a rampart and pulling snug. He scales the rope quickly, peering over the edge at the guards, their circuit is taking them back along the same path, he blinks, and a set of spectral footsteps run past them into the guard tower they've just come from. They stiffen and stomp after the mysterious noise.<br><br>With a jump and a light somersault, he's in the courtyard, no bones broken this time. He's flying blind from here on out, the guards within the compound are impossible to spot from without, and without any knowledge of scripture, it was unsafe to scope the interior out in the guise of the faithful. Nevertheless the route he's planned through the temple should see him to his goal. He grins, feeling the rush of adrenaline, and creeps forward towards the temple proper, ears pricked for approaching feet.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>bubby</strong> on <strong>22-05-2011, 04:16:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sun was slowly sinking, the sky taking on the lovely purple and blue it tended to. Ai was abuzz with the news that the Priest Iarasis had spoken, announcing war. <br><br>And Natasha had heard it all. Anger had seeped deep within as through the ears of a nearby guard she listened to the foolish old human speak on how it was the time of his ilk. How it was time to obliterate all that were not. And as the final rays of the sun fell under the mountains, Natasha's eyes of red opened. It was not the slow blink of a sound sleeper. Nay, it was the instant awareness of the walking dead. And with that awareness came a low growl from deep within her, plush down comforter flung aside as sleek legs swung over the beds edge, pulling herself to stand even as her voice teased forth. She would not need to yell, even from the basement she moved within, for the one she called to belonged to her complete.<br><br>“ Arion, I require clothing. And ready my mount, I will be going into the town proper, to gather news...”<br><br>Footsteps she heard running lightly down the basement steps even before she finished her speech, and as the door to her private sanctum eased open to admit her young assistant, she arched her supple form only then into a languid stretch. No nightwear adorned her body, for there was no need. Natasha's flesh was ever cold, yet she did not heed it, nor need to. Alabaster flesh gleamed as Arion drifted about the room, quickly lighting candles for his Mistress, the young man smiling somewhat as she proudly displayed delicious curves to his eyes. Full breasts tipped with rosebud nipples, sweet curve to her waist to flare out enticingly into full hips, flowing easily into sleek legs. Her raven mane fell against her back, tendrils working to tease against her pale cheeks as her head fell forward again, those hues of flame settling upon Arion as he bustled about, lighting her room, and gaining her the clothing she desired. Bare feet carried her towards him silently, slipping behind him to reach out and trail a long nail over his cheek, working over the curve of his neck. The young man froze, and began to shiver, and yet it was far from fear. His head dipped to the side a bit, and Natasha glimpsed his tongue dancing out over his lips before he murmured. “ <strong>Does Mistress wish to feed before she goes into Ai?</strong>” <br><br>Natasha indeed thought on it, for Arion was so delightfully willing. But she shook her head, slipping around him to pull the gown (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6a/2a_1_sbl.jpg) forth, examining it. “ No. Sweet boy. I shall find something in town I am sure. The word that is spreading is intense, and I must set forth to see how many are going to be joining this war, and how many oppose. It might be time to join forces my pet...as much as the idea might grate. Now, go ready my mount...I will ride soon.”<br><br>In no time Natasha was dressed and settled upon her steed, heading out at a full gallop towards Ai. And as she rode, she decided to have a bit of fun before she came to her destination. A slow smile curled lush ruby lips as her mind drifted forth, hoping that she managed to catch the Priest Iarasis off guard, hoping that he didn't have his myriad of wards up. It would be simple, and it would be quick, this whisper within the old mans head, if he was receptive this night. <br><br>“ <em>I am coming for you old man. You wish to start a war? Oh my lovely, I will give you one!</em>”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheHangedOne</strong> on <strong>22-05-2011, 06:04:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dully, the stone he kept so close to himself, in a plain&nbsp; cloth pouch, kept on a chain around his neck, pounded at the back of his head. Something beyond that constant, quiet need to find someone--not something-- and just...cut them open, and paint a canvas with their blood and bile and entrails. Thoughts and ideas that repulsed him, even if the visions often included the very people that had made his childhood into a nightmare.<br><br>That wasn't it. It was something else. Something akin to a red flag of warning flaring up in his mind. Something...was coming? Perhaps.&nbsp; It was night time now, and though chilly, the chill he felt was not caused by the weather. The undead were close to the dead, and so while the Stone did not directly interact with vampires on any level, their was still some tenuous connection. The fact that she was an Elder, had probably taken many lives, and had far, far exceeded her own natural life span...the fact that she <em>should,</em> by all rights, be did, but wasn't... it all put her close enough to death that the stone knew, even if it wasn't able to effectively communicate to its wielder. And above and beyond all that, she bore another Stone!<br><br>Left with that strange sensation, he found himself nearing the inn where he planned to stay for the night. He would leave his pony outside, whispering to it, telling it to be still, that he'd be in there for only a moment...and then he went inside. He spent a few moments inquiring with the owner about getting a room, was mildly surprised to hear their was one open still, and mentioned his pony needing to be stabled for the night. A price is reached, and paid for, and the man came back out, and led his pony around to the stable. <br><br>He didn't trust anyone else to lead his pony into the stable, especially since all his traveling gear was still in packs on it. He led the pony into the stable, got it set up in a stall, and took a moment to personally feed the beast himself. He'd be here for a time, enjoying the quiet of the night. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>22-05-2011, 06:31:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center">Anethrial</div><br>Anethrial had been sitting in the corner of her farther office for hours now. As people came in and out in and out. They went over maps, strategies.&nbsp; Once He got in an argument with one of the solders their voices&nbsp; had gotten so loud that she was sure that all of Ai could hear them. Things had calmed down considerably since he left. Anethrial sat poised on a small cousin in the back of the room staying quite and watchful as she had all evening. Her father was busily scribbling something down on a scroll. He was just dipping his Ink back into the pot when he paused and grew still. His hand shook sending the pot crashing down onto the ground, black ink contaminating the white orientate tile of his office. Iarasis Stood up and drew the&nbsp; light blue curtains that shielded the window. He stared outside&nbsp; into the night for a moment. Then turned and looked at Anethrial. Her golden eyes looked up to meet her fathers cold and almost accusing gaze as if it had been her fault the ink had spilled. Outside she could hear the sounds of approaching steps, more priest and solders, more business that needed to be gone over. The young celestial took this time to slip out of the office and into the night.<br><br>She shivered as the cold night air blew past. Then slowly walked from her fathers office across to the temple. In the day it was crowded with people giving offerings and loud cries of the people.. Everyday hundreds of people made the pilgrimage to this temple. Thousands of people on a day like today. By now all of the people would be gone. At night it was hers if she wanted it. In the quietness it was if she could hear the gods, or perhaps her mother. She made the trip every night. Tonight her steps where slower, burdened with a sadness that was not usually there.&nbsp; <br><br>The guards who stood at the front of the temple, inclined there head and let her pass. It was dark in the temple, so she stopped at the front and lilt a&nbsp; single candle. In the light the temple was beautiful with alabaster statues that were lined with gold , emeralds, and rubies of drawven craft. The drawves being the best at molding the stones of the earth into something beautiful. At night though cast in the shadow of one flickering candle the statues took a more sinister light. In this light Anethrial wondered if they were Gods at all or cruel demons in disguise. He celestial quickly passes most of the stone statues finally pausing near the end of the rows and depictions of Gods. Here she puts the candle down and goes to collect more.<br><br>The candle is placed under the feet of a goddess. She is made of ivory with gold lining her wind blown hair. Her eyes are emeralds and rubies dot at her feet depicting a field of flowers that she is standing in. She is a Goddess of nature of balance. The perfect one to talk to on a night when everything was about to become so very unbalanced. She digs through the back of the temple, her golden eyes glowing slightly like two stars in the dark. She gathers the candles and brings them back to the statue making a circle around her and the goddess . Then lights each candle with a flame. Once done she falls down to her knees in front of the statue. Her hand moves to a small feather that she has on a necklace. Her father had told her that it had belonged to her mother. She bows her head, and for a few minuets she sits in silence. <br><br>“quis have vos perfectus “ She whispered softly. She moves her head, not daring to stare into the statues emerald eyes, instead she peered at her feet. “ Do you know? I have seen the future...” She paused her golden eyes sweeping from left to right across the temple. She was sure she was alone, but there were guards hanging about and if they heard her speak against&nbsp; her father things would not bode well for her.<br>Once she was satisfied she was alone she began again. “ Once the humans have satisfied there hunger on everything else, they will turn on me and my kind. Your own children!! and then after we are gone they will turn on each other. Until there is nothing, but barren and death. Is this what you want for the world?Are you angry, and hide your damnation in a blessing.?” She went quite again and pulled her wings tight around her body. Her hand still fidgeted with the winged necklace. After minuet after minuet had passed. She whispered “ I will accept my fate.” <br><br>She dropped the necklace from her hand, and stood up slowly. Her head still bowed not wanting to meet&nbsp; eyes with the statue. She went to work extinguishing the flames of the candles until she was standing in darkness. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>22-05-2011, 14:38:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Armored footsteps clatter throughout the temple grounds; it's hard to concentrate on which are where with the throb of the moon in Laszlo's head. The cloud cover is beginning to shift, and Laszlo needs to get inside quickly before his reflexes are dulled by the direct light. He hides behind a saint in the statue garden as a few guards hustle by. There is energy here like a kicked hornets nest. The circuits he'd seen on the grounds earlier look abandoned, everyone's milling about in organized chaos. He'd known there'd be an element of the unexpected, but it was supposed to lurk in the massive building ahead, not swarm over the grounds. He quickly creeps to a bush, more footsteps, panting, the moon, an opening, he takes it. He's closer now to the temple than ever, a quick gesture and a voice calls out from the darkness, "Guards? Guards!" The two men at the entrance hurry after it, and Laszlo steals into the temple.<br><br>Inside the temple there is much less interference from the moon's glow. He sidles into an alcove along the side, gathering his senses and going over the route in his head. There will be a door in the back, the clergy use it to enter for sermons, through it a scroll chamber, the first of many to navigate. Eventually one of the chambers opens to a hallwa-<br><br>Laszlo tenses, the clanking footsteps of the guards draw near. They stop at their post, exchanging a few bewildered queries. They settle down and Laszlo returns to his route, there are many turns to make to get to the base of the southeast minaret. Somewhere at the base of the minaret is a secret back entrance to the vault, meant to be an evacuation route for the scrolls should the temple ever fall to invasion. It will be hidden well, but Laszlo is sure he'll be able to sniff if out quickly enough. There'll be guards along the way, but disguises are easy illusions. Still, should a guard or clergyman become too curious he should keep his eye peeled for a place to hide their bo-<br><br>Laszlo instinctively crouches into the alcove as a set of footsteps approach, eyes closing as he inhales, seeking out the stranger's scent. The smell of rust and sweat from the guards is strong on the cool air rushing in through the temple doors, but these footsteps are too soft for iron boots. A slight gust of air blows in along with a myriad of smells. Rose, honeysuckle, lavender, lilac, wisteria, jasmine, and many others he cannot name. The cascade subsides, and for a moment the soft smell of sunflowers is there in the background, and Laszlo is transported many years back in time. He opens his eyes. A winged silhouette walks through the door.<br><br>Laszlo watches in wonder as Anethrial slowly enters the temple. A match flares, and he squints night eyes sensitive to the sudden light. A gear clicked in place in his head, and his mind whirred into action. His sword would stay clean tonight. Lady luck has truly graced him with favor. He creeps out of his alcove after her, treading slowly and silently outside the ring of candlelight.<br><br>A hand reaches into cloak, and comes out with the sheathed short sword. His finger slips into the iron ring at the end of its handle. Another reaches out into the darkness, plucking a brown eye out of the air. Laszlo peels off his eye patch and inserts the orb, his scarred eyelid whole once more. He runs his hand over his remaining eye, it became brown as well. There's no need to let on more information than necessary, yellow eyes are almost entirely unique to werewolves. He adjusts his hood, pulling up a flap to cover his nose and mouth. The free hand reaches out.<br><br>Anethrial stops before a jeweled idol, a goddess Laszlo is unfamiliar with. He quietly ducks behind a pillar, noting the flame's reflection on the many facets of the idol's eyes. Those alone could buy a city block in a town like Kaze. As Laszlo calculates the statue's worth, the girl wanders into the back of the temple. He hears rummaging noises, and she returns with more candles, placing them around the idol in silence. Her movements are routine, yet reverent, like the tender ministrations of a nurse on an ill child. Laszlo waits, the half angel again inspiring curiosity that trumps reason.<br><br>Anethrial lights the candles and prostrates herself in the circle of light around the statue. From his position, Laszlo follows the curve of her back and feels a twinge of desire. It's been a long time since he enjoyed a women. The girl lifts her head whispering to the idol's feet, some language lost on Laszlo's ears. The tone is grave. He leans in, trying to glimpse the trinket she clutches in her hand. She suddenly continues in the common tongue, <em>"Do you know? I have seen the future..."</em> She turns suddenly, and Laszlo presses back into the pillar. The eyes he'd glimpsed were disconcerting. Laszlo's familiar with the many tricks eyes play with moonlight, his own mother's baby blues had reflected blood red. But hers held no worldly reflections, they were lit from within by a golden glow. The girl was speaking again to the statue, Laszlo waited silently.<br><br><em>"Once the humans have satisfied their hunger on everything else, they will turn on me and my kind. Your own children!! And then after we are gone they will turn on each other. Until there is nothing, but barren and death. Is this what you want for the world? Are you angry, and hide your damnation in a blessing?"</em><br><br>Her wings moved, pulling tight to her form. Laszlo watches, pondering Anethrial's words. The girl is a seer? The angel children truly have such gifts? His lack of knowledge is frustrating. The celestial are unfamiliar to him outside of folk tales and legends. How much was true, and how much an amalgamation of hearsay and priestly fabrication.<br><br><em>"I will accept my fate,"</em> she whispers retrieving her hand and standing. She refuses to raise her gaze above the statue's feet. 'Such faith will be the world's undoing,' Laszlo thinks. The girl bends down and extinguishes a flame, and he steps out from the pillar, slowly circling in behind Anethrial's back as the circle of light shrinks. She stands up from the last candle, and Laszlo is behind her, the heady floral perfume more pungent than ever.&nbsp; His hand slowly reaches out, takes positions a hand by her head. The sword is behind her back.<br><br>The last few inches of the movement are quick as a snake bite, hand whipping over the girl's mouth and pulling the same instant the sword's sheath presses firmly into her back.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>22-05-2011, 18:01:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center">Anethrial</div><br>Anethrial bent down to put out the last of the candles light, returning the temple back into darkness. She glances back the goddess now cloaked within the shadows. She thinks about rejoining her father in his office, or perhaps spending some time in the garden. None of that happens because in that moment something from the shadows grabs her. Her body stiffens as she feels something pressed against her back. A weapon possibly? A scream escapes her lips muffled by the hand on her mouth. Her breath catches in her chest. Her golden eyes wide with surprise. <br><br>Where were the guards? Her father never let her go anywhere that wasn't well guarded. She had become something of a celebrity to the peoples here, and he was sure that their were those who wanted to get at her. If not only to get back at him. Today had been a hectic day. The guards having more on their plate then guarding an empty temple, or the half angel who wonders in there. She was happy of this fact a few seconds before, when she had wanted to talk to the Gods in private. Now though she was missing such protection. <br><br>Anethrial wasn't much of a fighter. Her build more fragile then muscular. She had spent her life in temples libraries, and gardens. Not things that helped someone gain strength. She didn't believe in fighting in any case. Even though she could not see who in the darkness had done&nbsp; this. She did not wish them any&nbsp; harm. The hate of her father had not tainted her. She did not struggle or try to fight in anyway, but stood perfectly still and waited. The guards would show themselves soon, and if not she would just have to see how her fate played out. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>23-05-2011, 14:14:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial screams into Laszlo's hand, and he pulls her tightly against him. Had it been loud enough? He pulls her behind a pillar just in case. He hears metal boots at the entrance to the temple, "Is everything alright, Lady?"<br><br>He whispers the the girl, "Stay quiet and you stay alive," He thinks for a moment, approximating the girl's voice from the whispering he'd heard. <br><br>"Lady?" The guard takes a tentative footstep.<br><br>"I'm fine, a spider scampered across my foot," Anethrial's voice cries out from the darkness at the back of the temple. Two golden orbs hang at the approximate source.<br><br>Laszlo hears the guard shift in his armor, "Ahh, disgusting creatures, pardon my intrusion, Lady." The guard clanks back to his post, and Laszlo relaxes, the golden lights fading away. He'd expected frenzied biting or flailing, but the angel child doesn't resist, wings still against his chest. He notes no trembling, and closes his eyes, analyzing her scent again. There's fear there, barely standing out amongst the floral perfumes. It's much less than he'd expected, is it fading? If the girl is planning something he may run into trouble down the line. 'Burn that bridge when I get to it,' he thinks, slipping the cloth on his face down with his shoulder. Laszlo leans down to her ear, Anethrial's hair brushes against his lips.<br><br>"You're going to take a walk through the temple with me," He whispers. "When the guards and clergy see us, you will remain silent. If they ask about me, I am a student priest, and you are showing me to... my station, apprenticeship, whatever you people call it." He presses the point of the sheath further into Anethrial's back, "If you do this, you're free, and no one dies. Nod if you understand." He lessens the pressure of the sword and his grip over her mouth slightly. The girl needn't die either way, Laszlo is a thief, not an assassin. However, if this doesn't work, a blow to the head will keep her out of the way until his mission is complete. He readies himself to do just that.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>23-05-2011, 17:35:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial heard the heavy sound of guards steps. The guards had come&nbsp; like she knew they would, they would clear this mess up. She had an urge to make noise despite what he had told her, To bring the guards attention to exactly what was happening, what stopped here wasn't his orders, but knowing that the guards would probably kill anyone that caused her harm. He had done nothing to deserve death. Some dark part of her subconscious she hadn't realized was there before this war business whispered softly in her mind. ' were all dead anyway.' <br><br>The angels eyes widen in wonder as she hears her voice coming from somewhere else, and she saw the golden orbs. What was he? Was he some kind of witch? No he didn't appear crazy enough to be one, all the mages she had heard about had been beyond any reasonable thought. Of course what she had heard had been the slanted stories of the priesthood. Stories that she had been questioning as of late.<br><br>She is a little disappointed at the guard when he leaves for believing that she would scream like that over a spider. She is not some little girl that screams at the sight of a creepy crawly. In fact she couldn't remember very many times when she did scream. She usually kept her composer, even though she was shy and crowds made her uncomfortable. She had to appear at least some what strong to the people, as she was not only a celestial but the daughter of the head of the priesthood. People looked to her. <br><br>She listened to him, shifting uncomfortable as the weapon at her back pushes into her more. She wonders what it is in the temple that he wants so bad, he would be willing to do this. She finds herself pitying him, more the fearing him. She nods her head indicating she understands what he wants, and that she is willing to do it. Whatever he wants, he probably needs it more then the priest do. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>23-05-2011, 21:47:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial nods, and Laszlo whispers, "Good." <br><br>He pushes the girl forward with the tip of the sheath, releasing her mouth. He recalls the robes he'd seen acolytes wearing at the academy. He is sure he can reproduce them, and hopes they're the proper rank. Again his knowledge of the priesthood is frustrating. Robes clear in his mind, he snaps his fingers, and they quickly rush out over his back, wrapping around him and covering his rags.<br><br>Laszlo pulls down his down his ragged hood, and the fresh white one rises to replace it. He pulls the sword off Anethrial's back, tucking it into the sleeve of his robe as he steps to the girl's side.<br><br>"Stick to my side, and don't try anything unless you want an early reunion with mother," He turns a brown eye on her, "Their lives are in your hands, fail to convince, and they die too."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>23-05-2011, 22:45:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial watches in wonder as his clothes change to what the priest wear at the school. Again she wonders what he is. A thousand questions rise to the surface of her mind, but she calms them all. She doubts he is in the mood to chat with her. When this is over though, they are going to have a long talk even if she has to hunt him down. <br><br>Her golden eyes turn to him, peering into his brown ones. “ what is it that you want?” She asked softly. “ I mean if I know what your after I could just take you there,I know my way around better then you do.” She suggests. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>23-05-2011, 23:03:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo narrows his eyes, is this her shceme? He reads Anethrial's face and scent, the girl is calm. Is it compliance, or is she steeling herself to lead him into a trap. She must believe her life is forfeit if she does.<br><br>"What I seek is in a vault of your histories, where the most treasured scrolls are kept. You know the way?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>23-05-2011, 23:17:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She nods. “ I know of every place in he temple.” She wonders what he wants from there, but she dose not push her luck, by asking him more then the necessary questions. She can sense that he might not trust her completely, but there is nothing that she can do about that.&nbsp; She takes a step. “ follow me.” She says as she starts to walk again. <br><br>She walks back to the statues of the gods, and moves to a statue at the end of the row, behind it as a simply stone statue of an angel. She reaches up and takes its wing in her hand and pulls it down. The wall beside it moves away to revel a hidden hall way. <br><br>“ There are hidden passages all through the temple. I used to play in them when I was little, I haven't used them since them, but I think I remember it well enough. I would rather take them, and avoid some of the people if its ok with you. “<br><br>She looked at him, unsure what he was thinking. Part of her still thought that perhaps he was a mage, and that would mean he could unpredictable.&nbsp; She hated&nbsp; not knowing his intentions. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>23-05-2011, 23:51:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"I know of every place in the temple."</em> Anethrial says, walking along the row of idols, reaching out to a plain looking angel at the end. Laszlo follows closely, wary of the girl's movement. She grips a stony wing and tugs, the statue shifting aside to reveal a passage, he steps forward to examine it.<br><br><em>“There are hidden passages all through the temple. I used to play in them when I was little, I haven't used them since them, but I think I remember it well enough. I would rather take them, and avoid some of the people if its ok with you.“</em><br><br>This part of the temple must be dwarven construction, the stone was dry, not a hint of the mustiness that should accrue in such a sealed passage. He scrutinizes the corridor for stones out of place, or vents that a dart might fly through, but finds no evidence of booby traps. Of course, if it's dwarven, any such traps will be well hidden. He thinks on this for a moment, stroking a spot just under his ribs.<br><br>He looks to the girl, gesturing into the passage, "Very well, after you."<br><br>If it is a matter of traps, he'll only need to match the girl's movements, or find a private place to bury her if she fails.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>24-05-2011, 01:03:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial peered into the tunnel , and nodded. She hoped her memory of the place served her well, or this could be the end of her. Slowly she moves into the smooth dark hallway. It had been built in case there was ever an attack here as a way to get people safely out. It would not take them directly to where she needed to go, but it would help them by pass some things. <br><br>She walked&nbsp; further into the tunnel. There was nothing in the dark tunnel to indicate where they were or how far they had gone. She would have to use her memory to get them to the right spot. She walked on moving further inward into the sanctum of the tunnels.&nbsp; After a while she stopped and moved her hands against the smooth wall. She pressed against a wall and a piece of stone pressed down against the wall. <br><br>The wall opened up to another door. She stepped through it, and peered around, looking for any guards that might be around. This was the inner part of the temple that no one saw. It was not as originate as the temple that the people flocked to. It was full of offices, and rooms of libraries. <br><br>&nbsp;As soon as she started to walk again though she ran into a guard. <br><br>“ What are you doing here?” The guard asked looking over her companion suspiciously.<br><br>“ My father wanted&nbsp; me to get a scroll.” She said.&nbsp; Hoping that she didn't look to overly nervous, as she felt inside. <br><br>The guard looked them over and then nodded, leaving them to do what they needed to do. Anethrial felt bad. She had never lied before, and this might have been a lie. She really didn't know what this strange man was after. <br><br>She walked into the libraries. There were huge towers and towers of books and scrolls, but this was not where she wanted to go. Getting there would be a bit trickier. She moved a rug that sat in the middle of the library. Reveling another hidden door. <br>She looked up at him. <br><br>“ I've never actually been down there, but its where the most secured scrolls are kept. I suspect the guards will be harder to fool, and there might be some traps as well.” 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>24-05-2011, 02:12:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo follows Anethrial, noting her casual gait, and following suit, this corridor is safe. The girl stops, running her hand along the wall. Stone slides to reveal a door, which she opens. A rush of air brings Laszlo the dusty smell of old leather tomes, Anethrial had not led him to a guard post. She steps out, eyes sweeping around the room, what is she looking for? Laszlo follows closely behind her, inhaling the room deeply. By the rusty smell lingering in the air, there is a guard in the room. He tries to determine where they might be, but the air is still in the library, and no currents betray their presence. He would seek him out with his ears-<br><br>No time, Anethrial turns a corner, and Laszlo follows quickly, his guide and hostage cannot leave his sight. He freezes behind her, the guard, a portly man in light chain mail, jingles slightly as he looks them over. Laszlo bows his head, hand slipping to the sword in his sleeve.<br><br><em>"What are you doing here?"<br><br>"My father wanted me to get a scroll,"</em> the girl says, wings stiff behind her. The tension could betray either fear or shyness. Laszlo hopes the guard assumes the latter.<br><br>His brow knits, and he nods, stepping away quietly. His footsteps fade into the distance, and Anethrial pauses a moment. She leads Laszlo further into the libraries. She stops, and and bends down to slide aside a rug. As she does, Laszlo's eyes are drawn to her figure. The girl is lovely, a vision of slender perfection, not the carefully constructed type one finds in brothels either. The girl wears no paint on her face, and her robes are modest priestess wear, no corsets or bustiers shape her form. She rises, and his gaze meets hers.<br><br><em>I've never actually been down there, but its where the most secured scrolls are kept. I suspect the guards will be harder to fool, and there might be some traps as well.”</em>"<br><br>Laszlo looks under the carpet, and spies a trap door. Another hidden entrance? Of course there would be, the priesthood would not be foolish enough to leave all their secrets in that book. He lifts it, peering down the stairwell below, squatting to examine the corridor at the bottom. There are torches below, casting irregular light on the corridor at the bottom, and further obscuring any traps that may lie in the shadows. He glances at Anethrial again. The girls face seems honest enough, he makes his decision.<br><br>"You've been honest, so you get a choice," he says quietly, "You can come with me down to the vault, or I can knock you out, tie you up, and hide you somewhere."<br><br>He stands up, and rips the illusory robes off, no sense going in with any distractions. They fade to nothing on the floor.<br><br>"I can crack a place like this, but I can't guarantee your safety below, dwarven traps are notoriously difficult. You stay here, you get a nasty bump, and the guards find you once you come to. I can't have you be a liability while I'm working."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>24-05-2011, 02:51:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"I can crack a place like this”</em> It suddenly clicked to the naive half angel that she had let a thief into the temple. Not only that but had lead him to the heart of their most sacred place. It was to late to do anything about it now, and in her heart she still believed he had some noble cause for doing as he was doing. <br><br>She frowned as she considered the choice she was given. <em>You can come with me down to the vault, or I can knock you out, tie you up, and hide you somewhere</em><br>If a guard found her tied up things would get even worse. If she was discovered trying to steal something down there, things would get worse. The fires of hate were burning bright add any fuel and it would explode. <br><br>“ I will go with you..” she said softly. “ If a guard finds me tied up they will knew something happened. No one can know of this. The hornets are already stirred up enough,&nbsp; hit them with a stick and they will sting everyone. I can not let that happen.” She said strongly. “ I will try not to be bother, and if a trap takes me... then that was how it was fated to be.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>24-05-2011, 03:40:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"I will go with you..."</em> Anethrial murmurs. <br><br><em>"If a guard finds me tied up they will know something happened. No one can know of this. The hornets are already stirred up enough, hit them with a stick and they will sting everyone. I can not let that happen,"</em> she says with grave resolve. Laszlo stares at the girl. His lips curl up in a smile.<br><br>"You're a cold one, angel. Alright, it's your neck. Just stick close, and stay quiet."<br><br>He slips down the stairs slowly eye darting along the walls. Every detail is important, behind each stone out of place, a trap may lurk. This passage, like all the others, is dwarven, and as such there are no details to betray any traps. His ear and nose seek out other clues. He reaches the bottoms stair, stepping lightly, ready to spring back at any moment.<br><br>He steps into the corridor tentatively. Judging by the amount of torches about, this part of the temple catacombs has a patrol, they can't dally here. However, Laszlo counts his blessings, the traps here would be easy enough for the guards to remember and avoid, Laszlo should be able to spot them easily enough. He creeps forward, eye whipping along the walls. He halts in one of the pools of darkness between torches, he can smell grease, there is a mechanism nearby. He scans the floor, nothing seems out of the ordinary, no trip wires or panels. No vents or holes in the wall, the ceiling is devoid of any mark. He needs more light.<br><br>Laszlo opens his hand, and a flame flickers to life in his palm. He squints at the floor and finds his mark. A slight seam, runs along the grain of the stone floor, barely noticeable even in the light. He squints along the floor, and eventually spies another parallel to it three feet away. He looks up. There are seams above as well, in line with those on the floor. A ceiling block trap, ingenious in that even when a thief avoids it, he's either shut in or out by the wall of stone. He signals Anethrial forward.<br><br>"You were right, look there," he says, pointing out the fine lines on the floor and ceiling, "Jump," he says, setting the flame on the stone next to him. Laszlo hops over the pressure stone, lighting another flame in his hand.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>24-05-2011, 18:55:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial followed the thief down the stairs. She stays quite, and close trying not to be in the way. She has never been down here, had never had a reason, and she suspects there were things in this library of scrolls that her father had wanted hidden from her, and everybody. While she is here would be the perfect opportunity to investigate this, She has doubts about doing it. Everyone is entitled to their own secrets. <br><br>She watches him quietly wondering what he is doing, and when a flame appears in his hand where did he get that. The person who had threatened her not long ago was nothing but an enigma to her. She did not fear him, instead he filled her with wonder and a bit of pity. He wasn't a bad man. A bad man would have killed her when she ran out of usefulness. Perhaps he thinks she knows more about this place then she had told him, or that she can give him a quick way out once his business is finished. <br>Then why had he given her a choice? Perhaps he knew which one she would take. <br><br>Her musings on him are disrupted when&nbsp; he signals her forward and points out the fine lines on the floor and ceiling. She jumps over them the feathers of her wings rustling just a bit as she lands on he other side of it. How did he see the trap? She knew that she probably would have walked right into it. Had he been a thief long?&nbsp; She shook her head trying to stop herself from her wondering, and pay more attention to what was going on. <br><br>She peered past him down the corridor but could make nothing at it. Somewhere down here there were scrolls that had been locked away for centuries. Maybe they were down here for a reason. Maybe they were so well guarded not to keep people from stealing them, but to keep them from being read. She would have to keep an eye on what he took to make sure it wouldn't make things any worse. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>24-05-2011, 22:12:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial lands beside Laszlo as he sets down the flame on the other side of the trap. He waves his hand and they vanish. When he recalls them on the way out, this trap will be marked. He creeps forward, another flame bursting forth in his palm.<br><br>Laszlo scrutinizes each of the next few pools of darkness carefully, they offer no hidden contraptions. They approach an intersecting corridor, and Laszlo hears the distant echo of boots. He blows out his flam and peers around each corner, two torches are bobbing in the distance. The echo of footsteps grows louder. He examines the floor no traps, dark gray stone. He looks back at Anethrial's immaculate robes, gleaming skin, and golden wings. That wouldn't do. <br><br>"We need to change," he says, touching his own ragged clothing. Dark gray seeps out from his palm and fingertips, soaking through the fabric of his cloak like an inkblot possessed. He reaches a hand towards her.<br><br>"Now hold still, we haven't much time for this."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>25-05-2011, 00:43:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The angels eyes widen. While it had been just a curiosity when she had seen him use whatever it is that he has. She didn't want it used on her. She took a step back. She had heard all her life about how bad magic was and how it was not supposed to be used. She never even used her magic and all she could do was heal. Though she had begin to grow doubts about her beliefs it wasn't enough to erase twenty years of&nbsp; belief.<br><br>She could hear the guards coming. She knew the need for it. If the guards caught her down her, she was sure to be punished. As well as her farther having questions that she wouldn't have the answer for.<br>She quickly calculated the lesser of the two evils, and then stood still. <br><br>“ your witchery isn't going to hurt me is it?”&nbsp; She asked in a quiet whisper. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>25-05-2011, 01:52:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial steps back, looking at Laszlo's hand with genuine repulsion. Laszlo can hear the guards drawing closer, any longer and they will be too close. She halts.<br><br><em>"Your witchery isn't going to hurt me, is it?"</em>She whispers.<br><br>"Hasn't hurt anyone yet," Laszlo murmurs, taking his chance before the girl can protest further. He touches her arm, and an ashy darkness spreads across her skin, creeping onto her clothes as it reaches the hem of her robe. Within moments the girl looks as though she's spent the last week in a coal mine, feet to wingtips covered in sooty blackness. Her eyes still gleam in the darkness, they'll have to work around that. He grasps her forearm, and leads her towards the intersected hallway, her surprise can wait, they need to move now. He peeks around the corner, the torches are still a ways away, there is time.<br><br>He scans the area quickly, no traps, no smells out of place. He touches the floor, and in its shadowy center, where the torchlight from the hallways is the dimmest,&nbsp; the shadows become inky black. He pulls Anethrial forward.<br><br>"We crawl to the other side, quickly, then hug the shadows," Laszlo whispers, pointing to the dark gap between the torches on the other side. "Stay right behind me, don't make a sound, and keep your eyes to the floor."<br><br>He crawls out into the hallway, darting his eye back and forth into the hallways to either side. The torches are bobbing along at the same rate, neither has noticed them yet. Laszlo rises into a crouch on the other side, holding out his hand to help the girl up, heart pounding with urgency.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>25-05-2011, 03:54:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The angel looked in horror as the greyness went over her clothes and skin. She had to keep herself from screaming. She swallowed it down her throat, but a soft squeak seemed to get out. She doesn't have any time to do more as he drags her to the hallway. <br>S he looks around she brushes her hand over her clothes as if shes trying to brush it off. All this time hearing how bad magic is? Is her letting him use his witchery on her going to anger the Gods?<br><br>She looks up as he talks. She wraps her wings tight against her body and crouches down. She moves right behind him, keeping her eyes to the floor as she did it. She takes his hand and pulls herself up to a crouch as well . She glances around, and strains to see if she could hear the guards footsteps. She is bundle of nerves, not only for there immediate safety, like getting caught by a guard, but what she has already done. <br><br>Anethrial waits to see what he will do next. She feels an urgency, they should keep going quickly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>25-05-2011, 05:26:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Come on," Laszlo whispers, lifting Anethrial and hurrying on. The shadow on the floor fades away, and the guards' closing footsteps continue without urgency. They hadn't been spotted yet, but the thief doesn't want to hang about and see which corridors they'll be patrolling next.<br><br>He hurries quickly down the hallway, eye wide, again searching for any hint of a trap, he inhales the faint scent of grease and stops, conjuring another flame. It's an identical ceiling trap, is this place symmetrical?<br><br>"Another jump," he whispers setting down the flame and jumping as it blows out. He almost summons another when he sees a guard round the corner behind him.<br><br>"Damn," he whispers, there is no way to get any further without the guard without him noticing them in the torchlight, any illusion at this range would rouse his suspicion. The hallway is also too narrow to offer any hiding spots from the guard's own approaching torch, and the girls eyes were still an issue.<br><br>"Whatever you do," he whispers, retrieving his short sword,"Don't look back."<br><br>Laszlo hops over the trap panel once more, and creeps into the shadows on the other side.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>25-05-2011, 15:04:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial follows the thief with urgency. She jumps over the next trap . Her heart is racing. She can hear the steps of a guard coming close. She wonders where they can go. It seems to her the reality of getting caught is very close. This place is more guarded then even she thought, and it makes her ponder what secrets might be hiding here. <br><br><br><em>"Whatever you do,Don't look back." </em> He had whispered, before going back.&nbsp; The guard was that way. He shouldn't be going that way. <br><br>“ wait.” She said she could not bring herself to go over a whisper, but she hoped that he heard her. “ your not going to hurt anyone” She commanded.<br><br>If someone had got hurt it would be her fault because she was the one who brought him here. She couldn't live with something like that on her conscious they were just doing there job after all. The fear of the rose into a knot in her stomach. Should see listen to him , or not? If she didn't perhaps they would be caught, and if she did&nbsp; someone might get hurt. Her getting caught might have world wide repercussions, what if her father gets mad and decided to add her kind to their kill list. The people loved her, but her father could be very charismatic when he wanted to be. He could easily talk them into hate. <br><br>She took a breath. The angel had been composed this long, but now she was actually trembling. One person possibly getting injured was better then a whole races genocide, though it was bond to happen sooner or later anyway. She closed her eyes, and took a breath. She tried something that she had never tried before though she heard of others of her kind doing it. <br><br>“ don't hurt him.” She said again this time she screamed it in her mind and with any luck he heard it in his. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 03:13:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo crouches in the darkness, eye sweeping over the guard. A torch in the left hand, broadsword unsheathed in the right, these men are at the ready, his ambush will need to be perfect. The weak point is the neck, no armor between the helm and the breastplate, he readies his sword.<br><br><em>"Wait,"</em> Anethrial whispers, <em>"You're not going to hurt anyone."</em> He notes the tone of command in the girl's voice, and says nothing. Sometimes it comes down to a matter of him or me, and if the girl didn't realize that, it was time to learn. Laszlo's line of work is not without ugly encounters.<br><br>The guard is close now, in a moment the torchlight will catch in Laszlo's eye, and he'll notice an orange orb hovering in the darkness. Colors are an easy fix, but as with Anethrial, an eye's true nature never changes. He tenses, ready to spring. Torchlight sweeps over his feet, and the guard's breath catches. Laszlo leaps, arms outstretched.<br><br><em>"Don't hurt him!"</em> Anethrial's voice rips through Laszlo's mind, and he falters, his sword sinking into the man's shoulder. His hand clamps over the guard's mouth, stifling the guard's pained grunt. The guard grins through the hand, and Laszlo feels a stabbing pain that rips through his chest. He looks down as his lungs begin to spasm. The guard's broadsword is sticking through his side, and his lungs are filling with blood. Red spots fill his vision, and he snarls, feeling the Rage coursing through him. His free hand grips the man's throat and squeezes, fury barely in check. His face contorts and the man's eyes narrow with concentration. He kicks frenziedly, his uninjured arm rising and pressing into Laszlo's face seeking out a target. He presses a finger through Laszlo's false eye, the illusion disappears. The guard's eyes widen with fear, and his gauntleted finger scrapes painfully in the empty socket.<br><br>Laszlo's rage flares, and his other hand grips the man's neck, lifting him off the ground. He squeezes with all his strength, vision fading as he suffocates. He hears a crunch, and the guard goes limp. His legs give out, and he lowers the man to the floor, hand clasping the handle of the broadsword in his side. He tugs it out, groan stifled by the blood in his lungs. He sits there in the darkness for a while, stifling his bloody wheezes with his robe, redness fading from his vision, wounds slowly closing. He rises unsteadily at last, and another flame flickers to life beside him. It bobs ahead continuing the guard's route. He hops over the trap, wheezing out the last of the blood, feeling the weaker from the loss. He wipes the blood from his cheek, and grabs Anethrial firmly by the chin, turning her face sharply to his.<br><br>"Don't," He gasps, "Ever, do that again."<br><br>He releases her, and staggers on down the hallway, still catching his breath. No time to stop.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 04:28:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial fidgeted with the wing on her necklace. Her feathers ruffled softly. It had seemed like an eternity since he left and she had no idea if he was ok. If that guard was dead. If he had gotten her messages.&nbsp; She could hear a scuffle in the darkness, but the results of it she didn't know.. Her stomach was in knots, her heart racing. She just fidgeted, and fidgeted.. She wanted to turn around and see, but he had told her not to turn around and so she would not. <br><br>Finally, after what seemed like forever in the dark catacombs she heard his steps. Something was wrong though? Was he injured?&nbsp; &nbsp;She was actually genuinely worried about him. She wondered what implications that could mean.&nbsp; He grabs her chin turning her to face him. He seems angry at her. Her golden eyes widened just a bit at the change in him. Perhaps she has no idea who he is.<br><br><em>"Don't,Ever, do that again." </em> <br><br>It worked then. She could do it. She was proud of herself for that, but her pride was dulled by worry for him as she watched him stagger down the hall. <br><br>“ wait.” She whispered out to him. She was prepared to do what he just told her not to do if she had to. “ are you hurt? I'm a healer...I could help you.”&nbsp; She offered as she hurried her steps to catch up&nbsp; with him. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 22:26:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo sees the next trap long before he smells it, slats are set all along the walls ahead, likely for great ponderous blades to flick out of. The is no jumping this one, the pressure sensitive flooring stretches the length of the trap, some thirty feet. There is a keyhole in the wall. He'd seen no keyring on the guards, this must lead beyond their beat, and a good thing too. He pulls his roll of picks out of his pack.<br><br><em>"Wait,"</em> Anethrial whispers, padding towards him in the darkness, <em>"Are you hurt? I'm a healer... I could help you."</em><br><br>Laszlo says nothing, setting a pick into the first tumbler. The wounds are closed, and the girl had already cost him too much time and blood today. He has neither the time nor the patience. He jiggers the tumbler, hearing a slight click, and reaches in with a second, applying light pressure. Another click, a third is employed. He scopes out the lock with his fourth pick, three more tumblers remain. He sets the fourth tumbler, and works at the fifth, carefully working around those already set.<br><br>"We're nearly there," He says as the tumbler clicks, he tucks it into his cluttered left hand, his right pulling out the final pick. "If you want to help, you'll stay out of the way while I work." The final tumbler catches, and he slowly twists the picks, feeling the mechanism slide, "That guard is going to be found soon," It stops, and a slight clunk is audible behind the stone, "there's no time for your incantations."<br><br>Laszlo steps out onto the stone, feels the slight shift of the pressure plate accepting his weight. No blades fly from the walls ahead, he strides forward, confidant that the vault must be nearly at hand.<br><br>"Come on, more traps means we're getting close."<br><br>He tucks his picks away, feeling the strain in his heart as it pounds to keep his remaining blood flowing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 00:20:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The angel catches up with him and watches him curiously. Also looking him over trying to see how badly hurt he has gotten. She can tell he's not feeling that good . Thais her fault at least she can try to fix it. She feels really guilty for what she had done. Its a guilt that turns with the knot of fear in her stomach. She should have never entered his mind like that. Since he seems much more practiced at this then her, perhaps she should have just trusted him.<br><br><br>“That guard is going to be found soon,"&nbsp; She heard him say. She wondered what happened to the guard, that would make him worry about being found. A cold realization hits her and she tries to deny it at he same time. Surely he wouldn't? She looks around to see he is on the move once more. <br><br>She quickens her step t o catch up with him. Her arm reaches up and a slender hand catches him on the shoulder. “ you...didn't kill him do you?” She asks accusingly. Her golden eyes now burn like flames of fire. “ Do you know the implications of then finding a dead guard here? “<br><br>This could be very bad. None was supposed to know that they&nbsp; were down here. Her farther could use this against everyone.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 01:46:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo feels Anethrial's hand on his shoulder,<br><br><em>"You...didn't kill him do you? Do you know the implications of them finding a dead guard here?"</em> She asks angrily. Laszlo's own anger flares, and he pivots grabbing her hand by the wrist and prying it away.<br><br>"How about the implications of a traitor in the priesthood?" He snarls, his eye burning into hers, "You had your chance to play the unwilling victim, and you didn't take it. Since then I've led you past traps and guards, lost blood and time, guiding you through this catacomb..." He stops himself, and takes a few slow breaths. There really is no time for this. He releases her hand, and turns away feeling the ache from the recent wound in his side.<br><br>"I don't have the time," he says, the subsiding anger leaving exhaustion in its wake, "to sit and argue morals with you, Anethrial." He continues down the passageway.<br><br>"You can either come with me, or find some way to explain yourself to the guards. I don't care."<br><br>The flame he'd sent bobbing ahead had reached the end of the passageway, and he can briefly see the outline of the vault as it begins on its way back. His goal is so close.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 02:18:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"How about the implications of a traitor in the priesthood?" </em> He said. The angel hadn't even realized that. Could this make her a traitor. <br><br>She watched him as he walked away. She was still mad. It wasn't like she wanted to come down here. <br>She wanted to stay in the temple and prey, to go back&nbsp; to her farther. He was the one&nbsp; that pulled a weapon on her and threatened her. He was the one that made her show him where the vault ones<br><br>Anethrial huffed. Her feathers ruffling. She went after him. She was not ready to drop this just yet rather he had the time or not. “ this is more then you and me, we on verge of war if you haven't noticed , what is down&nbsp; here that is so important to you?” <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 02:49:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo approaches the vault, eyeing it cautiously. No apparent traps, but the greasy smell around the vault's hinges is throwing off his senses, only one way to find out-<br><br>Anethrial is padding up behind him, <em>"This is more then you and me, we on verge of war if you haven't noticed, what is down here that is so important to you?"</em><br><br>He waves her back, and steps in front of the vault tentatively. Nothing. He lets out his breath, and bends down to the vault's massive dial, pressing his ear against the cold metal.<br><br>"The war," He says, spinning the dial tentatively, "Does not concern me. It will end when the humans have had their fill of death." He hears a faint click on the other side of the door and stops, spinning the dial in the opposite direction.<br><br>"As for the vault," Another click, he changes direction, "What I need is a matter of life or death, don't concern yourself with it further."<br><br>A final click, and a clunk sounds from behind the vault door. Laszlo stands back as it swings ponderously open. There is no light within, but Laszlo can make out massive shelves full of dusty scrolls heaped atop ancient tomes.<br><br>"Nothing to it," He says, turning to the celestial with a smile, "Now you just nip out the back way, and I'll be nothing but an unhappy memory-" His sentence is interrupted by a cry from down the hallway.<br><br>"By the gods, they've gotten Wallace!" Clanking footsteps pound away into the distance.<br><br>"Shit! Come on, hurry." Laszlo dashes into the vault. He'd hoped the guard would pursue him, but this one was smart. There was no way he'll be able to chase him down before he raises the alarm.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 03:41:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Not his concern? how could he be so selfish? The war concerned everyone. Millions would die, perhaps everyone would die. Then perhaps she exaggerated things. She had been having dreams lately though, something told her they would never get their fill of death once they got this taste. <br><br>His answer concerning what he wanted , just made her more curious. She took a breath, trying to vent her anger on him would not do her much good, she decided. She had, had him all wrong since the beginning. <br><br>She heard something down the hall. "By the gods, they've gotten Wallace!" <br><br>That name sounded familiar. She knew everyone who stayed in the priesthood in Ai. She had a memory of him, in the temple.<em> “ Hello my lady, look what I have found.”&nbsp; He had handed her a peculiar three colored flower.<br>&nbsp;“ It's beautiful.” she had commented. <br>“ Some guard found it out in the field , thought about bringing it to you.”</em><br><br>Another thought hit her mind. They knew someone was down here. Guards would be flooding the place within minuets. She was the daughter of the Head Priest. She could say she was down here , because of him. That bastard that killed one of the guards. She couldn't get in trouble then. <br><br>She dashes into the vault quickly after him. Her eyes roaming over the old dusty scrolls. She this was there most protected secrets.&nbsp; “ your a bastard.” She muttered softly, then she walked deeper into the vault. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 04:09:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"You're a bastard,"</em> Anethrial mutters, anger smoldering in her voice.<br><br>"That's more like it," Laszlo says, swinging the vault shut behind them. The locks slide back into place, that will stall them until they can find a higher up with the combination. He strides further into the vault room, summoning another flame to aid his search. He examines the labels on the shelves. These were recent. He steps deeper into the vault, and scans the shelves. Just one matter to resolve, he turns to the Anethrial.<br><br>"Well, go on then. I can find what I need, there's a back way out. I'm sure your father's worried about you."<br><br>He strolls deeper into the vault, eye tracing dates. Thank the gods the humans had gone to the lengths of organizing their scroll so efficiently.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 04:25:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her golden eyes look him over. She crosses her arms over her chest.&nbsp; “ I'm not going to&nbsp; leave you in here alone to steal whatever&nbsp; you want.&nbsp; Besides you might could use my help. What if the guards come? I can come up with a story to get your out safe.” The celestial said naively. <br><br>She looks at the dusty tomes. She moves her hand to touch her mothers feather. There is something here that might help her. The Gods had led her to this place for a reason. “ besides ….I might decide to do a little looking myself.” <br><br>Anethrial&nbsp; walked to a stack of old scrolls and glanced down them. A finger moved down the scrolls knocking dust in the air.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>07-06-2011, 02:00:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"I'm not going to&nbsp; leave you in here alone to steal whatever you want.&nbsp; Besides you could use my help. What if the guards come? I can come up with a story to get your out safe."</em> He can hear her stepping through the chamber behind him.<br><br><em>"Besides … I might decide to do a little looking myself."</em><br><br>"As you wish, just be quick. I'm not waiting around while you satisfy your curiosity." There! The year he'd been searching for. He rummages through the alchemical shelf, opening the significant few in sealed tubes first. He reads the heading of each scroll before tossing it away. A potion of rejuvenation, a tincture for staving off porphyria, a concoction to ward off the undead, where is it? He tosses away the final scroll, a mixture of spirits and roots that renders the subject incapable of lying. His anger flares, and he kicks the scrolls away.<br><br>"Gods dammit!"<br><br>He reaches up to the next shelf, labeled "correspondence." There has to be something here, at least news of Crescent Glen. Amongst them is a single sealed tube, he opens it, and his breath catches when he glances at the bottom. Three words, in handwritten scrawl:<br><br><div align="center"><em>My love,<br>Kerklos</em></div><br>Written by the man himself!<br><br>He quickly reads the letter from it's beginning, there's no address, only a hastily scrawled name.<br><br><div align="center"><em>Siriel<br><br>Even here they pursue me, I can hear them now baying at the edge of the woods. I am certain by the time this reaches you, I shall be dead. I only hope this infernal concoction may be kept from their hands for now. I have visited the exile town you told me of, they are calling it Marchtown, their thirty days march from the woods. I cannot see how that shantytown can last the next winter. They will not have it from my hand, they can hardly able defend against the roving bandits, much less the war party that stalks these woods. I am scattering my notes amongst our friends in the mountains, towers, and woods. You are the furthest from this mess, and have all the access you need to the most crucial ingredient. I have attached my notes on preparing it properly. If what you have told me of does come to pass, the exiles may have need of it yet.<br><br>I must be brief, Cilron is calling me to the war table. I am not frightened by the looming curtain of death ahead of me, but when I remember our time together, I am embittered. I am robbed of your visage, and your touch. My only hope is that I may see the heavens, that we might meet again on some distant field.<br><br>My Love,<br>Kerklos</em></div><br>Laszlo examines the rest of the parchment, turning it over in his hands. There is no further writing. He picks up the tube, peering inside and shaking it, nothing tumbles out. A sudden realization dawns on him, and he starts tearing into the correspondence shelf in a frenzy, eyeing and tossing scrolls.<br><br>"They can't have," he growls.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>07-06-2011, 02:55:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial looked through random scrolls. She had no idea what she was looking for. She guessed she thought one would jump up and say here it is, the answer to the war. It didn't happen that way. She found scrolls, concoctions for illnesses and the first decree that claimed that magic was evil. There was nothing about the other creatures. She moved deeper into the vault. Her eyes caught on an old brittle looking letter, It was a yellow green in color and looked as if it had been scrawled on the back of some wilted plant.<br><br><em>Iarasis</em> was scrolled on the top in sloppy writing. Whatever it was was addressed to her father. <br><br><em>I am writing to you about the blessing I bore.&nbsp; I am just a widowed&nbsp; fisherman's wife. I do not have the means, nor ability to take care of this blessed child.I entrust her to you, deal with her in the way that you see fit. She must never know of me. If she asks claim that the mother was the holy one.&nbsp; </em><br><br>It was a short note. no name or any identifying mark was written underneath it. She started to toy with the golden feather that was around her neck, a gift of her mothers, no that had been a hoax. He had used her, to gain power. Used her like he did everyone. She had always thought that she had a special blood bond with him. Now she knew the truth. She was no different and he would not hesitate to get rid of her if she got in the way. <br><br>Her own panic is distributed when she heard a sound. She walked into the vault where she had heard it, and watched as the man that had accompanied her threw scrolls from a self.<br><br>" you know...If your trying to be sneaky,your failing at it right now." She told him. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>07-06-2011, 06:31:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The correspondence shelf is empty, and Laszlo's found no further mention of Kerklos. Had they torched it? His knuckles are white, and his vision clouds. No sense thinking about that now, who's to say what this woman did with the formula. Perhaps if he looked up Siriel...<br><br>Siriel? His eye widens, and he glances at the scroll again. That name has no earthly business being on that scroll.<br><br><em>"You know...If your trying to be sneaky, your failing at it right now."</em><br><br>Laszlo looks at Anethrial, and sees the solution to his problems. He strides towards her with purpose, eye wide with fear.<br><br>"What does it say here, at the top?" He holds the scroll up to her face, pointing at the shield maiden's name.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>07-06-2011, 23:35:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial took a small step back away from him. His actions startled her. Her golden eyes glanced at the letter were he points. Is this why he is so upset? This name, or can he not read. She starts to say something, but then she hears the sound of heavy armored footsteps near the vault door. <br><br>she grabs his arm trying top pull him to the end of the vault. " whatever your problem is....we don't have time. WE need to leave now." <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 00:05:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial stares at Laszlo with shock, and heavy footsteps clatter outside the vault, she grabs his arm,<br><br><em>"Whatever your problem is....we don't have time. WE need to leave now."</em><br><br>Laszlo tucks away the scroll as the young girl tugs him towards the back of the vault. Whatever is going on with it, the guards outside are assuredly real. He falls into stride with the girl.<br><br>"You know how to find the back way from here?" He asks, pressing aside his fears as the reality of their situation sets in. Behind them, he hears the massive dial begin to turn.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 01:10:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She looks at him. " I don't know...maybe." <br><br>Having never been in the vault before, she didn't exactly know where the exit was. There had to be a back way out though. Otherwise anyone stuck in here would just be stuck. It wouldn't be obvious though in case thieves or someone they didn't want out came along. She moved to the back wall of the vault. On the wall there was something written in The language of the angels. <br><br>tibi tutum perfugium quaerentibus<br><br>She whispered the words, and a part of the back wall slid open revealing a tunnel. It was some sort of magery, which was odd to be in a place that was so against magic. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 01:36:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"I don't know... maybe."</em><br><br>They reach the back wall of the vault as the second tumbler quietly clicks into place behind them. Laszlo draws his short sword as Anethrial examines strange symbols on the wall. She whispers the alien tongue from before, and the wall slides aside. The final tumbler clicks and the door swings open.<br><br>"Three of you to the right, three to the left, three with me," the leader of the search party barks.<br><br>Laszlo tugs Anethrial into the tunnel, "Can you close it?" He whispers urgently eying their escape route.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 01:52:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial looks around for some other words in the tunnel, but she doesn't see any. She can hear heavy footsteps from the guards in the vault. Her mind whirls in a panic. If it was possible to shut it what word would it be?<br><br>"prope" she says in uncertainty. <br><br>The door slides shut behind them leaving them in darkness.&nbsp; Anethrial smiles proud that she managed to find away out. " I did it!!!" She said excitedly. Though they haven't quite escaped yet, they still have to get out of the tunnel. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 02:15:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>""Prope,"</em> The portal slides shut as torchlight from the searching party begins to flicker behind a nearby shelf. Laszlo lets out a relieved breath. That should buy them some more time, Laszlo is certain no key on the guard captains ring will get him into a magicked passage like this one. No time to dawdle though, they'll surely move guards to the exit once they realize what's happened.<br><br>Laszlo examines the of the tunnel, no traps, time to hurry.<br><br>"That book didn't say anything about sorcery," He mutters, conjuring another flame in his palm, "Come on, they'll catch wise soon enough." He sets off down the passageway, eyes peeled for the exit. He slides his sword into its sheath, resting his finger in the iron ring at the end.<br><br>"If I were you I'd start working on my alibi."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 04:52:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She looked back at the shut passage. " It seems weird that there would be magic when they talk so badly about it, but in a way its genesis....there are not&nbsp; that many people who know the language of the angels. So they can move out scrolls if there attacked, but if a thief&nbsp; comes in his trapped unless he knows the language, or has someone with him who dose." <br><br>She thinks this might make her look more suspicious, who out of the priesthood knows of the language, certainly not a common thief. They could get lucky and read the inscription on the wall, but they would have to know the word to close it. She starts toying with the feather on her necklace. It might be a fake, but it still makes her feel better when she is nervous. <br><br>" did you find what you were looking for?" She asks in a whisper wondering if this had even been worth all the trouble. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 11:16:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"It seems weird that there would be magic when they talk so badly about it, but in a way its genesis....there are not that many people who know the language of the angels. So they can move out scrolls if there attacked, but if a thief comes in his trapped unless he knows the language, or has someone with him who does."</em> <br><br>Laszlo nods, the escape route had been far more treacherous than he'd thought. Without Anethrial his entire plan would have failed miserably. Perhaps it had anyways. The notes are gone, perhaps destroyed. And what of that name?<br><br><em>"Did you find what you were looking for?"</em> Anethrial whispers.<br><br>Laszlo grunts, "I found what I could. With the goon squad stirred up, I don't have the time to look anywhere else."<br><br>He looks ahead, craning to see any sign of the end of the tunnel.<br><br>"There's going to be a lot of trouble waiting at the end of this tunnel," Laszlo says, turning his gaze on Anethrial, "And you've saved me about as much trouble as you've caused."<br><br>He reaches into his pack and pulls out a tiny jangling sack, shifting its heavy contents in his palm.<br><br>"So when we get to the end of this, I am going to make it very clear you've been at sword point through this whole mess." He glances over her body, and lightly touches her arm. The ashy black camouflage dissipates from her in a cloud, leaving her skin, clothes, and wings immaculate once more.<br><br>He glimpses the end of the passage ahead, and readies himself, tucking the small bag into his belt.<br><br>"We're nearly there. Don't know if your friends are waiting for us, or en route. Just be ready."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 21:41:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				" that would be lying...lying is wrong. I wont let you do it...I came with you by my own will." Anethrial said. <br><br>She was ready to face whatever consequences might come of this, she just wished she could have found something to help the people. It hadn't been a complete wasted trip though, she knew that her father was lying to her. How she should use this information, she hadn't decided. For now she would act like she never knew. <br><br>The tunnel was soon ending. She couldn't tell how long they walked in the tunnel, but she guessed it ended somewhere near the garden. She could hear the sound of people nearby, the guards were waiting for them on the&nbsp; other side. <br><br>" I think&nbsp; this tunnel might have just lead us into some more trouble." She said , pausing in her steps not to eager to go out and face them. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>08-06-2011, 22:26:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"That would be lying...lying is wrong. I wont let you do it...I came with you by my own will."</em><br><br>Laszlo stares at Anethrial, the naivety! He hears shifting footsteps outside, and the clatter of armor. Her friends had reacted quicker than he'd hoped. He unsheathes his sword, hefting it a few times. His fingers are cold, a little numb from blood loss. Anethrial seems to hear the guards as well, she stops in her tracks.<br><br><em>"I think&nbsp; this tunnel might have just lead us into some more trouble."</em><br><br>Laszlo sighs, covering his face with his cowl again. He pulls down his hood, he'll need his peripheral vision for this.<br><br>"Look, forget your moral qualms, we'll die right here if you don't. Open the door, follow my lead, and you might still have a home in the temple when all this is done." His mind whirs into action, formulating a plan for the encounter ahead.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>09-06-2011, 00:05:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial stares at him, Her eyes look at his sword and then back to his eyes. " your not going to hurt anyone."&nbsp; She commanded. She already knew of one guard that meet his end today, she would not have anymore blood on her hands.&nbsp; " no one else is dying here today."&nbsp; she says her golden eyes seem as if they are on fire. <br><br>She starts walking to the end of the tunnel. It is closed as well. and probbaly takes another angelic word to open it. Its a good thing she knows the heavenly language. She moves to the end of the tunnel, and thinks about what word it might be. Her eyes glance back at him, and its a bad thing he doesn't know.<br><br>" promise me no one gets hurt, or we can stay in this tunnel and rot for all I care." <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>09-06-2011, 00:29:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial eyes Laszlo suspiciously.<br><br><em>"Your not going to hurt anyone,"</em> she says, the tone of command returning to her voice, <em>"no one else is dying here today."</em> Laszlo notes the blazing glint in her eyes, and watches her walk to the tunnel's exit. Doesn't she understand the gravity of the situation?<br><br><em>"Promise me no one gets hurt, or we can stay in this tunnel and rot for all I care,"</em> she says, glancing back at him. Laszlo strides up behind her, wrapping an arm around her chest and pulling her to him like a hostage. Once again his nose is overwhelmed by her floral scent.<br><br>"Yes, yes no one dies, now hurry up and open it, I can hear more guards coming," he says impatiently. Whatever Anethrial's code is, Laszlo's has no rules for lying. Any more squabbling here and the entire guard corps would be waiting for them.<br><br>"Remember, be convincing, and you're home free," he whispers into her ear. His plan is ready, hopefully the guards will buy it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>09-06-2011, 02:04:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial stiffened for a moment, as his arm went around her chest. She realizes what he is doing, hes going to take all the blame.Pretend that she was a hostage to the whole situation.&nbsp; She has never lied in her life as far as she is aware of. Shes not about to start now. <br><br>She sighs. " as long as no one dies." She says softly. " propensa"<br><br>The end of the tunnel starts to roll, back a few handfuls of&nbsp; drift down as the tunnel opens. It has not been used in a long time. The tunnel opens up in the gardens, much like the young celestial suspected. On the other side waiting for them is a small group of guards. There weapons are drawn, ready to apprehend the thief that took off in the tunnel. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>09-06-2011, 02:44:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;<em>"As long as no one dies, Propensa."</em><br><br>The portal slides open, and Laszlo presses the flat of his sword to Anethrial's neck. He and into the garden, pushing her in front. His head begins to throb in the moonlight<br><br>"Right! All of you fuck off right now, or feathers here gets an early reunion with mom!" The guards shift uneasily at the sight of Anethrial, their eyes falling towards the stout man in a polished breastplate, the leader. He frowns and strokes his beard, a routine kill or capture had become a hostage situation.<br><br>"She's not hurt boys, keep back. He's a bold one," he says, scrutinizing what he can see of Laszlo. He points to the bloody tear in the side of Laszlo's clothes.<br><br>"I can see your wound, thief. We can wait until you bleed out here in the garden, or you can give us the Lady, and we'll get you a healer and a nice warm cell."<br><br>"Fuck you!" Laszlo spits, "I leave right now, and you get your girl at the gates. Any of you try anything, and I gut her!"<br><br>The leader strokes his beard calmly, and Laszlo peers around. He can hear more footsteps coming, what if they're buying time for an archer?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>10-06-2011, 00:32:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>It was probably the worst time to get caught in Ai, with so many solders and mercenaries brought over for the impending war. Half of them were in route right now for the scene while the guards that had been on duty stalled for time. Archers made their way to the temple roof <br><br>A messenger took off into the shadows, to inform the head priest that this was a hostage situation. Iarasis&nbsp; did not seem to concerned that his daughter that had taken off ending up in the hands of a thief. No instead he thought of it as a tool he could use. His daughters death would certainly boost interest in the war especially if the thief was not human. He sent back word with the messenger that the thief was to be caught at all costs. There was no telling what secrets he was trying to steal away with from the temple. The messenger ran back off into the night.<br><br>Anethrial watched the scene unfold before her. She could feel the blade against her, but she didn't think he would actually hurt her. Though he had killed a guard what was stopping him from doing the same to her? The thought caused her to shiver. She knew the guards were not likely to back down. This would be a stand off.&nbsp; “ this is ridiculous...”&nbsp; She muttered though only loud enough for the thief to hear. She moved a little trying to push Laszlo away from her.<br><br>The guards take notice of the struggle. One glances up towards the temple. An archer was ready and with one pull of a string he sends an arrow toward the thief. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>10-06-2011, 01:16:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo notes the lead guard nod to one of his men, who sheathes his sword and disappears into the night. There will be a sniper. This is getting out of hand rapidly. He readies himself to use the stone, and Anethrial begins to pull away, muttering to him,<br><br><em>"This is ridiculous..."</em><br><br>Laszlo starts to pull her back when the guard captain looks up behind Laszlo and nods. A few seconds later he hears a familiar whistling sound and leaps forward, pushing the girl away. He feels something punch into his back and feels a searing pain. There is an arrow sticking out below his ribs, where the girl had been moments before. His senses reel, and he can feel the change coming on. The guards close in, weapons ready, and Laszlo roars, a black fog bursts from him, encompassing the surrounding patch of garden.<br><br>He staggers forward, grabbing Anethrial's arm as he does. The confused guard captain stumbles into view and Laszlo back hands him away into the fog. There's a momentary clearing, and he catches a glimpse of the city gates ahead. His jaw aches and cracks, he can feel it trying to stretch. He groans and staggers forward, blinking away the red haze in his vision. He has to get out of the city, and out of the moonlight.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>11-06-2011, 02:45:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial blinks, as he moves forward pushing her away. An arrow strikes him. She wonders if he had known and took the arrow willingly. It doesn't make any sense, he doesn't seem to have any problem killing, and he has never done anything to hurt her. He&nbsp; has done things to keep her out of danger. She doesn't have much time to think about this, as everything around her slips into madness. The guards close in, and then&nbsp; blackness erupts around them. She is sure its more of his witchery.<br><br><br>She looks him over as he grabs her arm. Something is wrong with him. Its not the arrow, its something else. She looks at him concerned, but slightly fearful as well. <br><br>All around is chaos. The sounds&nbsp; of soldiers moving, and shouting. She hears someone call for her, but she choices to ignore it. She has to help him. This is the second time he has been injured, and its her fault. He would have been better off not taking her along.&nbsp; <br><br>Wanting to help she puts a hand on him. As if she is afraid that he might fall at any second, and moves towards the gate. He had to get out of here. The guards where still in confusion right now, but it probbaly wouldn't last long. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>14-06-2011, 23:10:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo lurches through the gates as the guard bells sound around town. An arrow clatters off the cobblestone by his ankle. The pain from his belly has subsided to a twinge that comes with each breath, already his flesh has sealed around the arrow. He can feel the light of the nearly full moon burning into his skin now, and sees the rash beginning to form on his exposed arm, tiny red welts that would soon sprout fur. The throbbing behind his eyes threatens to drown out all his thoughts.<br><br>He pulls Anethrial into the shadows outside the gates, and concentrates, drawing the deepest breathes he dares without reopening the arrow wound. He waves his hand, and a crude facsimile of the two appear in the moonlight, dashing away across the plains disappearing into a wheat field. Moments later a cadre of guards rushes out after them. He focuses on the illusions, visualizing their flight through the wheat field, focusing on anything but the adrenaline rush of the Change that was sweeping over him. Gradually it fades, but the pain in his gut remains, each twinge rhythmically escalating the throbbing in his head. He needs to get to a hideout and remove the arrow before he loses it again. Laszlo waits, ears pricked, breathing stifled to a wheeze. He can hear no other pursuers for the moment. He looks at the angel for a moment, she is resting a hand on him, and her gleaming eyes are full of concern. It's time to cut her loose before they both end up dead.<br><br>"I know a place to hole up," he coughs and then winces as he feels the arrow shift. His voice is hoarse from nearly Changing.<br><br>"I'm going to scope it out," he lets go of Anethrial, "I'll fetch you if it's safe. Stay here." <br><br>The guards will find the girl eventually, and after everything that happened he doubts they will suspect her role in the heist. He starts off along the outside wall. It wouldn't be far. Then he could sleep, and eat, and come morning, put as much distance as possible between himself and this botched burglary as possible. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>15-06-2011, 00:33:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial watches for a moment as he starts off along the wall. Something was wrong with him, more then the arrow she thought again. If he was that bad there was no way that he could make it to where ever he was going. Still if he didn't want her help there wasn't much she could do, could she? She ponders what to do, and decides to give him to the count of a hundred. If he is ok, then he'll come back to get her the naive angel thinks, and if not then she will go looking for him. <br><br>She starts to count quietly. As she gets to the number 49...She heard the sound of armor from behind her. She turned just as a guard called out to her. " there you are. your father was so worried he came out here looking for you." The guards grabbed her by the arm, and start to lead her away from town instead of to it. Something is wrong.&nbsp; " where are we going?"&nbsp; She asks. <br><br>"your father went further up this way looking for you." the guard answers. This seems odd to her, she had been right at the gates. Though she really had not been paying that much attention, He could of went out here. <br><br>They walk in silence for a little ways, and then he stops. Another guard walks up behind her, but there is no sign of her father anywhere. The guard behind her wraps his arm tight around her.&nbsp; Her eyes widen in surprise and she struggles a little.&nbsp; " what is this?"<br><br>" Its a shame that when we found you, the thief had all ready killed you."&nbsp; One guard said to the other. <br><br>Before Anethrial could question why they said that when she was clearly standing right here. She felt something sharp stab into the back of her chest. Her eyes grew wide, and she screamed breathless at the&nbsp; pain. Her body shuddered around the blade. The world around her was growing dark. She struggled frantically. In a frantic attempt to get away, The gold light that lit her eyes seemed to envelop her body and all that was around her for a second. <br><br>The guard let her go and cursed. " what the hell was that?" He asked the other. <br><br>The other guard had an arm across his eyes. " I dunno, some angel magic, don't matter much now. She's gone...." He muttered kicking her body where it laid limp on the ground.&nbsp; They turned and walked away , back toward the town. Leaving her body on the ground. <br><br>Anethrials, healing powers had already kicked in, and started to heal the area around the blade. It took a lot to kill a celestial, but the guards seemed not to know that. She wasn't dead just unconscious. When she had made everything glow like she had, she had thrown out all of her magical energy at once, leaving her body drained. <br><br><br><br><br>&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>15-06-2011, 06:03:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo limps along the wall, eye peeled for the dried up sewer drain he'd seen earlier. The place is one of many thieves' guild hideouts he knew of around the city. He hears distant conversation and the clatter of armor behind him, and sees the guards picking up Anethrial. At least one of them is out of the woods-<br><br>They're leading her away from the town? They can't think she's the impostor, the crude Anethrial copy should have dissipated by now. Laszlo sees one of the guards holding her draw a dagger, and suddenly realizes he's watching an execution. The dagger sinks into her back, and the girl spasms, flailing wildly to get away. Laszlo notices her eyes gleaming impossibly bright over the distance. He grunts in surprise as the light encompasses her, shielding his eyes. When he looks again, she is on the ground. A guard prods her with an armored toe, before the two depart back towards town.<br><br>Laszlo suppresses his rising Rage, one by one the guards from the wheat field are making their way back to town, and Laszlo is hardly in any condition to take down a score of armored warriors. None of them stop to do more than glance at Anethrial's body, and Laszlo's fists clench white in anger.<br><br>"Sons of bitches," he growls. The humans are leaving her to the wild dogs. The last few guards slip into the gates, which close behind them. Laszlo waits for a few moments, pondering Anethrial's death, and her purpose in helping him. Had she been some part of his destiny? Clouds slide over the moon, and the field falls into darkness. He's made his decision.<br><br>Laszlo rises from hiding, slipping into the shadows towards the corpse. The girl had tried her best to help a stranger, even a violent one like himself. For her kindness and naivety, she was dead. He owes her a debt. The least he can do is spare her the indignities of the local scavengers. He examines her body, the dagger is pressed into her back to the hilt. He removes it and tosses it away into the wheat. <br><br>"I didn't realize your friends were so vicious, angel. I'm sorry."<br><br>Laszlo bends down to lift her, and stops in amazement as he realizes the wound in her back is smaller than before. As he watches it closes more. He leans down, pressing an ear to her back. She's breathing.<br><br>"My gods, you are an interesting bird," Laszlo smiles, and has another spasm as the arrow shifts in his belly. He hoists the angel over his shoulder, feeling his numb muscles protest with the effort.<br><br>"A favor then, one fugitive to another," he grunts to the unconscious girl. He makes his way back towards the wall, painfully jogging the last bit as the moon reappeared behind the clouds. He feels the moonlight throbbing in his skull, and his mind begin to drift with exhaustion. He walks on, feeling weaker with every step. Finally he picks it out amongst the tall grass near the base of the wall. A crude etching of a hand clutching a dagger marks the stone above the grated entrance to the sewer. He pushes on the grate, and it swivels up. He bends down, grunting painfully as one of Anethrial's legs brushes against the shaft protruding from his back. The grate slides back in place behind him, and Laszlo feels the throb of the moonlight subside.<br><br>Further up, the sewer's blocked by a cave in. The thief counts his blessings that no sewage sloshes around his ankles. Laszlo follows the etched symbols through the low winding sewer. The final symbol is on a brick loosely mortared into the wall. He presses it, and the wall clicks, swinging open to a small earthen chamber with a few filthy straw mattresses and a dusty chest. He sets Anethrial down on a mattress and sits down on the chest. It looks like this hideout's been abandoned for a few months. He sets to the work of removing the arrow. He snaps the head off the shaft, and leans forward, gripping the fletching behind him with both hands. He takes a few sharp breaths, and then yanks heard, ripping the arrow away from the skin that's grown around it.<br><br>"Fucking gods!" he shouts, setting the arrow down and feeling the wounds in his chest closing again. He leans back against the earthen wall for a moment and catches his breath.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>15-06-2011, 07:24:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial opens her eyes wide. She tries to jump to her feet&nbsp; up as if she is still being attacked, but her body is tired and sluggish, and the best she is able to do is sit up leaning against the wall. She flails her arms like shes warding off inadvisable attackers.&nbsp; Her eyes dart everywhere, and then seem to settle on Laszlo. She takes a few deep breathes, and coughs. She can taste the copper of blood in her mouth.<br><br>" you." she croaks. " you came back for me." She said, though it had been no doubt in her mind that he would, unless he succumbed to his injures. <br><br>She remembers the arrow, and the way that he had been acting before they had parted. " are you ok?" She asked clearly more worried about him then anything else. She had been taught after all to put others first, and she still felt responsible for him being shot.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>15-06-2011, 22:37:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial rises with a start, flailing for a moment before settling back against the wall. Her eyes dart around the dark room, before settling on Laszlo. She coughs.<br><br><em>"You came back for me,"</em> she says, <em>"Are you ok?"</em> Laszlo hears the genuine concern in her voice, and smiles in the darkness. The girls lack of concern for her own wounds is amusing, if not rather sad.<br><br>"I'm fine, we're safe," he says, sliding off the chest and settling into one of the straw mattresses. He is utterly exhausted and starving, his body's nutrients drained by the many stabs and breaks it'd had to heal. He rubs his eyes, and the false eye disappears along with the coloration to his true one.<br><br>"What exactly happened back there?" He says, sliding the patch around his neck back into place over the empty socket.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>15-06-2011, 23:18:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial watches him for a moment. The bright glow in her eyes had dulled. She notices as his illusion fades, but she dose not bring it up. He isn't human she decides. If he was he would have been more injured then this. She doesn't know what he is though, having never seen a wolf before.<br><br>" you killed me, or that's what there going to tell everybody." She coughed again. "&nbsp; I was somewhat of a celebrity in Ai. The people will want blood. That's exactly what my father would want. Though I thought that when it came down to it he would be the one to kill me..." She had known those guards as if they had been family. How quickly they had tried to kill her and toss her aside. " If he had been the one, at least he would have murdered me properly." <br><br>She talked as if her death had been predestined. She was a little surprised that it had happened so soon. <br><br>" where are we?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>15-06-2011, 23:41:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"You killed me, or that's what there going to tell everybody. I was somewhat of a celebrity in Ai. The people will want blood. That's exactly what my father would want. Though I thought that when it came down to it he would be the one to kill me..."</em> She seemed lost in remembrance for a moment.<br><br><em>"If he had been the one, at least he would have murdered me properly. Where are we?"</em><br><br>Laszlo has a realization and reluctantly stands up. He sways for a moment as the blood rushes from his head. <br><br>"A little hiding place under the city. Scoped it out on my way in." He walks over to the chest, and slides it with great effort in front of the door, blocking it from swinging open again. He leans against the chest, panting hard.<br><br>"There's a few who know about it," He leans against the chest, panting hard, "But they won't be in tonight, not with the guards swarming the walls." They very well might visit tonight, but thy couldn't get through the blocked door without Laszlo hearing. Laszlo lays back down on the mattress, feeling a cold knowledge settle upon him. They'd be on his trail again for certain after this. He undoes his pack, and sets it beside him in a bundle with his sword and the pouch from his belt. <br><br>"Your own dad put a hit on you? Pretty cold blooded, but that's politics for you." Laszlo says, resting his arm over his eyes.<br><br>"So? What's your plan? Make a public appearance and stir up the pot? Disappear?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>16-06-2011, 01:36:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				" are you sure your ok?" She asked as she watches him move the chest in front of the door.&nbsp; He obviously thinks that someone might come around are he wouldn't be blocking the entrance. She wondered who all knew off this place. <br><br>She slipped back down against the mattress. and thought of what she was going to do. She was tired. It would have been easy just to slip into sleep. <br><br>" Let them think I'm dead... If I showed myself now, my farther would probbaly say it was a miracle&nbsp; or something that I rose from the dead, It would just elevate him more, and then when things settled down he would get rid of me for good. I actually don't want to die...so why tempt it. I'll figure out where to go tomorrow..." <br><br>She had never been outside the walls of Ai as far as she could remember. There was a big world out here, perhaps it was time for her to explore it. Maybe she would go look for her real mom. She didn't know, and right now she was too tired to plan to far ahead. <br><br>She wondered what he was going to do. Whatever he had been trying to find in the temple had gone wrong, and it had been her fault. " I...I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>16-06-2011, 02:05:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo listens to Anethrial's plan. The old bastard is crafty, that much is certain, and he had enough pull to make people, even celebrities like her, disappear. He must know that even if she survived, exile from Ai is a death sentence.<br><br><em>"I...I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble."</em><br><br>Laszlo waves a hand at her dismissively.<br><br>"Naw, I screwed it up pretty bad myself. I rushed into this one way too quick. Besides, you're out on your ass because of me right?" He looks over at her from under his arm, there's no chance she'd survive on her own. Probably end up biting her own tongue after some bandit pawns her to a brothel.<br><br>"I'm going to be leaving here at dawn. I've got all the time in the world to find what I need. You tell me where you need to go, and I'll get you there. Then we'll be even. Deal?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>16-06-2011, 03:13:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She shakes her head. Shes caused him enough trouble, but he would know more about the other places then her. She closes her eyes. <br>" you went back and got me, because of you I have a safeish place to stay the night....I think that is even."<br><br>She thinks about the note she had found in the temple. Even if she could find the place, anything could have happened to her. She hadn't left a name, and it wasn't like anyone was going to admit giving her up. She had written to her dad, so they might no each other. Even by some small miracle she found exactly the right person, who is to say that she wouldn't turn her back into her dad. She couldn't very well tell anyone of her dads betrayal.&nbsp; No that was a bad idea , forget it.<br><br>" I never been outside the walls."&nbsp; she said sounding a bit lost at the thought of it. <br><br>She considered for a moment if she could go back into the gates, and just hide out inside the walls, but she is to known. Someone would end up being found out. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>29-06-2011, 03:07:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"You went back and got me, because of you I have a safeish place to stay the night....I think that is even,"</em> she murmurs.<br><br><em>"I never been outside the walls."</em><br><br>Laszlo, snorts, "Well then you better take up my offer then, angel. You can't expect to wander around the countryside with a big pair of wings like that. I can get you settled somewhere along the line. Consider yourself a hostage." He closes his eyes.<br><br>"Now sleep, we're out of here tomorrow..." Laszlo stops. Tomorrow is the full moon, no night travel. They'll just have to find a way out of town during the day.<br><br>"... at dawn," He finally says. He'll just have to find a place to dodge the moonlight somewhere down the road. Hopefully he'll find an inn with sturdy shutters.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>29-06-2011, 04:06:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was right. She couldn't just wonder around who knows what would happen or who would attack her. Perhaps that had been her fathers intent to start with, if the guards didn't kill her, He knew her ignorance of the world outside the temple would. She had lived her life sheltered. All she knew of the world outside where some crudely drawn maps, and stories she had read or heard all slanted in the priesthoods favor.&nbsp; Alone she would die. <br><br>She wrapped her wings tightly around her, her golden feathers making a slight ruffling sound. Her chest still ached where the dagger had hit her, but by&nbsp; the morning it would be like it had never happened at all. A gift from her immortal parent. She wasn't immortal herself, though she did age about ten years slower then humans.&nbsp; It was hard for her to get injured, but her kind did tend to get sick more often. She remembered spending months in bed when she was younger with hastily made calls to doctors that seemed to hurt more then help.<br><br>She sniffled. She realized the world that she had known was gone from her. The ones she had cared for and loved had tried to kill her. Tears slipped down past her cheek and&nbsp; her breath started to come out in little gasps. She didn't want to cry in front of him, but now that it had started it tears flowed like a river she couldn't stop. She slowly cried herself to sleep. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>29-06-2011, 21:41:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laszlo hears the girl's stifled tears. He says nothing, and after some time, he hears her breathing slow as she slips into sleep.<br><br>The whole plan had gone out the window, Laszlo'd nearly died, the Guild would likely be sniffing about soon, he's got a ward to feed, and he's losing a night's travel so as not to run off without said ward in the moonlight. He looks over at Anethrial, the girl is sleeping well enough. Laszlo should too, he'd only get a few hours tonight, but there's something he has to know before he can rest his eyes. He flicks his finger, and a candle sized flame flickers at his fingertip. He retrieves his scroll, and examines the address. <br><br><em>"Liseria"</em><br><br>So it had been the stone. But why change? And why change back? And why her? She'd behaved, no running, no words out of turn. He reads the rest of the scroll again, <em>"mountains, towers, and woods."</em> No doubt about it, wherever Liseria's portion is, the rest is in the hands of the dwarves, elves, and mages. Perhaps there'd be some clues in Red Stone, either way, it's on the way to the mountains.<br><br>Laszlo flicks out the flame, the exhaustion in his bones, and the hunger in his belly. He'll need to check the crate for food in the morning, hopefully there's a cache there for thieves lying low. No matter now, he needs sleep. He lays on the straw mattress for a while, mind reeling tiredly from the note, to Anethrial, to the coming moon. Sleep falls on him like a load of bricks.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Forsaken </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>30-06-2011, 00:57:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Anethrial wakes up early before the first rays of the sun even touch the sky.&nbsp; She jolts awake as if she was having a very bad dream. For a moment she sat there huffing trying to remember where she is. This is not her room, but slowly the events of last night settle back into her mind. Usually when she woke up troubled she went to the temple and prayed, but she couldn't&nbsp; go back there. She wondered how people were taking to the reaction that she was dead. Were they sad? Or did they not care?&nbsp; A compulsion to see the temple one last time hits her so hard it consumes all of her thoughts, and any sense of common sense.&nbsp; She looks to Laszlo who seems to be asleep, and gets up lowly, she walks over to the door,&nbsp; and tries to push the chest out of the way. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
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