The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Photo on 25-02-2012, 19:10:19</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>25-02-2012, 19:10:19</strong>
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				<div align="center"> Interest Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=131372.msg5830771#msg5830771)<br>&nbsp;The Character Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.0)<br>&nbsp;The Encyclopedia (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132503.0)<br>&nbsp;the OOC Board &nbsp;(http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=133016.0)<br>&nbsp;Jikundi Truun Camp &nbsp;(http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=133017.msg5918543#msg5918543)<br>&nbsp;The Outside of Anders &nbsp;(http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=133020.0)<br>&nbsp;The Inside of Anders &nbsp;(http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=133019.0)<br><br><br>(http://i41.tinypic.com/cnxbn.jpg)</div><br>The Gate camp, like the seedy back room of a casino with no walls, heat, or electricity. Folks linger in groups, around fires, or huddled in alls on the ground. Anders' armored guards walk up and down the streets. The martial law in this camp is over-appreciated, and actively rebelled against at all times. Hollering, cussing, and impact from punches can be heard at all hours of the day. A steam seems to rise over the river which splits this camp in half. three trolley's move by small raft and rope from one side to the other, helping folk from getting in to getting out of town. One must always cross the river to enter Anders. The only gate is south of it, and the only real camps are north.<br><br>The southern half of this camp is completely protected by walls and water, the northern half is only guarded by the illusion of safety that the security entailment's provide. The Anders River leaves two supremely weak spots in the defenses of this camp on the west and the east. Easily, the most dangerous place in all of Anders (besides the emptiness inbetween each camp). Slayers often patrol the streets, as well as Ji-Tru Sentry's and rogue hunters looking for a vampire hiding in the crowd. At any given moment, one can expect there to be at least three vampires within this ghetto. There are no paved roads, just places to walk in-between decrepit structures. Wet dirt, always wet: blood, rain, urine, and river water. The glow from within this camp is deceptive. There are fires in every corner, but no body has the will to live, or even stoke the flames.<br><br>There are a few known establishments within this camp, the economy is hollow, and goods are often <em>traded</em> for service. Sometimes folk trade favor for favor, but most aren't willing to do that. They would all rather trade with stolen goods and battle trophies. Vampire teeth are valued highly in this culture, and act as the only real form of currency besides precious metals like gold and silver.<br><br><strong>The Gate Camp</strong><br>(http://i39.tinypic.com/mvkpig.jpg)<br>1- The Gate<br>2- Main Street<br>3- Sage House 205 (The Dead Arrow)<br>4- Anders' Guard Barracks 1<br>5- Anders' Guard Barracks 2<br>6- Rings' Boarding house (cheap bed)<br>7- General Mechanic (electronic repairs / prototypes)<br>8- General store (daily needs, some food)<br>9- Green Grocer (store fore several farms and gardens in area)<br>10- Anders' Guard Jailhouse (evil people are kept here, no demons)<br>11- The Wharf ('restaurants' - 'gift shops' - some general needs - otherwise useless merchant wares)<br>12- The River ferry 1<br>13- The River ferry 2<br>14- Anders' Guard Barracks 3<br>15- Center City Grocery (everything the heart desires, massive crowds)<br>16- Men and Women's clothing (designed with style in mind, many other places in town to buy leathers)<br>17- Carpentry and Upholstery <br>18- Deviating Mechanic (all prototype, typically large items. Has constructed one automobile)<br>19- Cawl Fornis' Hotel (gigantic building, upscale rooms, expensive)<br>20- Anders' Guard Prison (dangerous men are kept here and some demons)<br><br>There are many other places of business and cheap trickery. Feel free to use your imagination when needed<br><br>The Sage and Slayer Roster:<br><br><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Sages</span></strong><br><br><span class="bbc_u">Gate Camp, House 205</span><br>Micshe Variel - 43 year old woman - Master - Careful, experienced, frail and without an ounce of wit. Well built and healthy<br>Danny Woodworth - 37 year old man - Master - Hot headed and resourceful, emotional, instinctual, irrational. muscular and handsome<br>Dalton Wise - 26 year old man - Student - Dark, malevolent, brooding, and confused. Good at heart, but very angry. tall and dark, mm.<br>Vecaria Wise - 29 year old woman - Student - A genius with an eye for detail, socially pained. Dalton's sister. equally dark, awkwardly thin.<br>Ili'Meni Westscott - 23 year old woman - Student - gorgeous, blonde and apparently flawless. <br><br><span class="bbc_u">Tower Camp, House 409</span><br><br>Peter Kingsly - 56 year old man - Master - Wise, Wise, Wise... Soft spoken and observant. heavy smoker.<br>Evelyn Duster - 34 year old woman - Master - Wise, loud, extravagant, and fanciful. muscular. Book-smart AND combat experience<br><br><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>The Slayers</strong></span><br><br><span class="bbc_u">House 205</span><br>Slate Moore - 22 year old man - Bastard sword, and nine stakes on his vest. bothering with nothing else in combat <br>Elmiaria - 16 year old woman - Four stakes that double as crosses, two canteens of holy water,&nbsp; 3x1.5 foot Iron Cross with no sharp edges<br>Yale Ensicro - 19 year old woman - Six foot iron rod. three crosses, two daggers, a chain with a two foot harpoon on the end<br>Mary Embers - 28 year old woman - two iron crosses, two enormous stakes strapped to each wrist like bucklers.<br><br><span class="bbc_u">House 409</span><br>Mercuria -17 year old woman - rolls classic, eight glass bottles of holy water, three large crosses, and a crossbow with blessed bolts.<br>Devio Taylor - 24 year old woman - two basic iron swords. one large cross for safety<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>27-02-2012, 05:21:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D43.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sage House 205<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><br><hr><br>The sound of the rapping was ominous and echoed a good distance inside. A small slit on the large gate before them was flung open and nothing more than a pair of eyes could be seen staring out. The eyes shifted back and forth as the owner of the pair took in all that stood before him. A mangled and gruesome sight for sure. Ten men stood on the outside of the group, each boasting the symbol of the supporter somewhere on the outside of their body, tattered clothes, the stench of the dead wafted from them. Behind those brave souls stood six slayers, a mix of men and women, blood splattered shredded clothing. In the center of all these courageous beings, stood five immaculately groomed humans, all with an air of superiority. Three men and two women controlled this mass and all seemed to defer to them.<br><br>Panthea was among them these five. The Grecian Order had dressed them on that first of their fateful days. A somber pall had covered the entire camp that day. Mourning for the lost was taken place even as they tied her hair into its cinched bun atop her head. And the dress they placed over her head! Oh the weight still hung upon her shoulders heavily. She felt as the sun when the moon tugs it from the sky. But they felt they felt they had to present their precious jewels with a bit of sparkle. They were the leaders of her Order and Panthea would not question them, just as she would not question their motives, reasoning, or directives.<br><br>So here Panthea and the others stood, exhausted, hungry, and ready to throw themselves upon the dirt for mercy were this man to only open the gate.<br><br>“Who goes there?!” the eyes demanded.<br><br>A young supporter stepped forth, taking brave initiative. “Kind Sir, I present Orion, Gantry, Leon, Panthea, and Allona, the Sages. Escorting them are Slayers, and with them, Supporters. We seek admittance into your fine city to have a word with your Sage base camp leaders.” The young man stopped his speech and looked at the slit expectantly.<br><br>After a long pause, wherein the eyes scrutinized every detail about the group, they finally relented. “You better count yourselves lucky. These gates are sealed tight after dark.” And with that, the slit slammed closed. With a 30 second wait, gears could finally be heard turning. Creaks and groans resounded and hushed whispers could be heard as the gates slowly swung open.<br><br>The group did not linger, making their way inside only moments before the gate closed behind them. Shifty eyes appeared before them, a grizzled face on a stout guard taking their place. “Little Jake here will take you all to the closest Sage house. Best you all rest there for the evening before continuing on to the Tower Camp house.”<br><br>A young boy bobbed up in front of the cluster. “I’m Jake!” He said, obviously excited to have been awarded with such an important job. “Follow me! Right this way!” He exclaimed, bounding off. He’d run a short time, then stop and run back to make sure they were following, before sprinting off again. He reminded Panthea of a small puppy out for a stroll.<br><br>Through the streets they went, avoiding large puddles and deep muddy areas. The camp was in ruins and this saddened her, for even the most deconstructed rubble in Greece had a bit of beauty to it. The ever vigilant supporters and slayers scanned every alley, building, and being for signs of trouble. As they approached the river, Panthea stopped. She shielded her eyes with a puffy clothed arm and stared at the images before her. The large calm river was engulfed in a fog, that parted slightly to let through a ferry on a rope pulley system. A slight breeze picked up the fog and enveloped Panthea, giving her aan ethereal visage to any passersby. That same breeze also brought with it the stench of the surrounding camp. Panthea’s nose crinkled in disgust and she turned to continue the walk. The others had paused to wait on her, but continued when she did.<br><br>It was about a fifteen minute walk but to the group it felt like hours. It had taken two weeks to make the journey from Greece’s shores to the gates of Anders. They had been a much larger number when they’d started and the continual loss of heroes made each member grim. Sleep had only come after many days, when exhaustion just took over the body. When this happened, only a few hours of sleep was allotted in shifts, for easiest protection. But they had made it and here they were, standing in front of the doors to their destination. After two grueling weeks of terror and fatigue, it all came down to that young man’s knock on the Sage house’s door.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>27-02-2012, 20:21:38</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rOmDXA9kIDc/TeY47eoAauI/AAAAAAAAAPE/sXxfg2vK3yc/s400/245234-florence-welch.jpg)(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TeN-8HbUZdY/TIU2mR6mQlI/AAAAAAAAADs/xla5IY3y1no/S350/blonde+hippy.jpg)</div><strong>Michse Variel - Ili'Meni Westcott <br>Sage House 205<br>Day 1 - Scorpio Sun, Gemini moon<br>Tagged: Panthea Salvai</strong><br><br><hr><br>Micshe had been over seven books for most of the day. She was up before the sunrise, reading by candle light. Still burning the wicks, her blinds were drawn in the study of the large house. All of the text concerned vampire movement in the last one hundred years. three of them were from foreign lands, and the other four outlined activity in the Anders area. Such study was not standard in her routine. But, there had been word from several recon camps in the surrounding area that had alarmed her. Two safe houses in the Northeastern woods had been completely destroyed in Libra's Sun.. There had been no survivors, and nothing was found besides blood, dead bodies, and ash. The more resilient sources told stories of large battles on the ground, The human participants were few, and unsuccesful, suffering intense casualties. The recon teams had even spotted two companies, totally almost one thousand, doing war in the South, demon against demon. The slayers were confused, and so was Micshe. Her frame was still as she compared the notes extensively without taking the time to relax. She was covered in a long green sash that covered most of her body.<br><br>Ili'Meni was the busy one. She scurried from room to room, retrieving breakfast for Micshe, tea, magnifying glasses, and fresh candles. She dictated notes, Michse spoke to her in an absolute monotone, and the young Sage was worried the whole time if she was taking the notes correctly. She spaced out often, concerned with her relationships around the 205 House. Dalton Wise, and Danny Woodworth had both expressed a sexual interest in her. She was at a very healthy and flourishing age. Romance didn't feel like an unacceptable route of discovery. The tiny blonde was only a student beneath the Master Sages, Micshe and Danny. She was not aware of the floating omens. Michse was panicking, that much was obvious. But, Ili'Meni's Master was not a complicated individual, she was always over-worked and dis-humored by one thing or another.<br><br>The study was only three doors from the entrance to the building. When the door rapped, Ili'meni knew that she was dutied to answer the call. "I'll go to the door." she said to Micshe, setting down her pen and standing from the table that the two Sages were seated at.<br><br>"Good, yes." Micshe hadn't even considered an action. In fact, she was so focused, the sound had hardly been registered.<br><br>Ili'meni was bare foot, her steps made no noise, only the swishing sounds of her gown floated upwards in the long hall of House 205. Like, Michse, she only wore one piece of fabric around her, but it was a shoulder strung gown that dangled to the middle of her shins. She wore three leather belts, one around her waist, one around her hips, and one around the high portion of her chest. the last strand of leather hugged the pockets under her arms tightly. It held her gown close to keep her fantastic breasts out of sight. <br><br>The front entrance had enormous wooden plates in the place of the door. Ili'meni had to use her entire body to move them. The doors pulled inward and she managed to set one side ajar. In more than one long motion, Ili'meni walked outside of the house and opened the door further, both hands on the far edge, head down and muscles tight. Once the threshold was revealed, she turned around to see the company before her. "Welcome." She smiled and made a bowing motion that turned into a curtsy half way through. "I'm Ili'meni Westcott. Micshe Variel, our Master Sage is busy at the moment. Further, most of the house is out on mission and patrol for the evening. We are only two right now, but capable. How can we be of service?" The large group intimidated her. The social skills of young Sage end when the back of book is reached. She did, however, know how to greet a guest to her city. By their clothing, she could tell that this party was from far away. The stains, and exhausted faces only added to the intensity of their presence. The young local that had guided them there was a comfort, these folks looked like they were either here FOR trouble, or here because they were IN trouble. The young man at Panthea's side made only one of those two options possible.<br><br>Ili'meni was still. Her eyes were glowing with anticipation and fear<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>28-02-2012, 16:57:20</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D43.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sage House 205<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><br><hr><br>Panthea, who had humbly been looking down, now looked up at the new woman. A beautiful creature she was for sure, but now was not the time to admire beauty. The group stayed silent, apparently deferring to her. She stepped forward and the others parted the way for her.<br><br>"Greetings," Panthea's voice had a soft lilt to it. "We've come from a far distance and seek an audience with the Master of your House." Panthea noted the unease in the woman's eyes. "We are friends, not foe. Fellow Sages, Slayers, and Supporters arrived from Greece." Her face was serious but soft, but also held an air of urgency. What she really wanted to say was 'Get me out of this over sized satin cotton ball!" But she kept that to herself.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>28-02-2012, 22:14:16</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rOmDXA9kIDc/TeY47eoAauI/AAAAAAAAAPE/sXxfg2vK3yc/s400/245234-florence-welch.jpg)(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TeN-8HbUZdY/TIU2mR6mQlI/AAAAAAAAADs/xla5IY3y1no/S350/blonde+hippy.jpg)</div><br><div class="floatright"><div class="floatright">(http://paizo.com/image/content/RiseOfTheRunelords/Erastil_180.jpeg)</div></div><br><strong>Ii'meni Westcott </strong> &amp; <strong>Michse Variel</strong><br><strong>Sage house 205</strong><br><strong>Day 1 SC-GI</strong><br><strong>tagged</strong>: Panthea Salvai<br><br><br>Ili'meni nodded her head as Panthea spoke. Her voice made the young student feel light, and full of motion. Her breathe came to her with ease. A soft flicker of happiness came from the corner of her lips. Her eyes begin to smile. "wonderful. I can see you have still not rested, in some time." Ili'meni gripped the other half of the door to the entrance way and shifted her weight. The door budged with suddenness, and then slightly pulled its way open. Ili'meni took a few steps backwards and gestured with both hands. "Welcome to <em>The house of the Dead Arrow.</em>"<br><br><hr><br>The symbol of house 205 hung over the floor delicately in the hall that immediately proceeded the door. Ili'meni turned about, like a disinterested doe, to lead the visitors toward Michse in the study. Walking slowly, she allowed the guests some information before having to deal directly with the Master of the house. As she spoke she would stop to face them, making certain points more apparent than others. "Micshe has been busy all morning, she won't act it, but she'll appreciate your presence. Her head gets filled with study, I must ask you to forgive her in advance. Oh!" Here, she stopped. "If all of you are involved with the council, than continue with me, if any one needs food and rest, these two rooms here will serve you well for as long as you need you may need them."<br><br>To each side of the hall, Ili'meni gestured toward two open archways. The room on the left was a large eating space that led to three bathes and two doors to the North, a small courtyard there overlooked the river from a hill. There was a 300 yard stretch of marsh land that lead to the water. The other room that Ili'meni had pointed to was intended for events exactly like this one. Often their own would come in wounded and tired. With equal frequency, civilians in need of refuge, and recon camps with expired houses would arrive. There were beds in the Southern room, nearly twenty of them. It was a large barracks-type space that doubled as a medical center. One half of the room was clean and hospitable, the other half was separated by walls that were only half high. All of the medical supplies were put behind this wall.<br><br>"This is our bathe and our forge. Make yourselves at home." Ili'meni begin down the hall again, Her feet moved with some more speed now, into the back of the house. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>28-02-2012, 22:55:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D43-1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sage House 205<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><br><hr><br>Panthea, who until now had held her head down while walking to avoid complete recognition, straightened herself and tried to look as confidant as she wanted to be. The elders had put her in charge for the trip and the decision had weighed immensely on her. The blood of many she felt was on her hands and the safety of all currently involved now depended on her interactions with this House's Master Sage.<br><br>She listened to the woman speak and took in all the information given to her about Mische. Panthea longed to rest with the rest of her group, but she would finish this mission if it killed her. Without words, she motioned for the Supporters and Slayers to take their leave to the room with beds. She knew their sacrifice and exhaustion was far greater than her own. It seemed a weight had lifted from their shoulders as they all but bounded for the room, sinking into the beds, most not even bothering to take off their shoes.<br><br>Panthea extended her head in appreciation to the blond beauty in front of her. The other four Sages and herself fell into step with Il'meni, walking lightly and silently, and just as swiftly as their host.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>29-02-2012, 02:36:42</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rOmDXA9kIDc/TeY47eoAauI/AAAAAAAAAPE/sXxfg2vK3yc/s400/245234-florence-welch.jpg)(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TeN-8HbUZdY/TIU2mR6mQlI/AAAAAAAAADs/xla5IY3y1no/S350/blonde+hippy.jpg)</div><strong>Micshe Variel - Ili'Meni Westcott <br>Sage House 205<br>Day 1 - Scorpio Sun, Gemini moon<br>Tagged</strong>: Panthea Salvai<br><br><hr><br>The study door opened by Ili'meni's hand. Micshe looked up quickly, as the company rode in. Her chair squeezed itself, leaning back, she relieved pressure from her calfs. The room was only half as large as the first two. Tables of various size sprawled out over the room, and chairs nearly stacked on top of each other to make room for the books that were scattered across the ground, and every surface. Nearly all of the Sages that lived in house 205 were like this, dis-organized and easily distracted. Ili'meni was likely the only exception, but she had learned to live with the mess.<br><br>Mecshe was expecting an explanation, Ili'meni performed at the perfect time: "We've accepted visitors from Greece. Sages, and Slayers. They arrive urgently." Ili'meni stepped away and walked out of the study exactly where she had entered from. <br><br>Micshe tightened her grip on the desk and tried not to look like she was intimidated, Panthea's gown had overwhelmed her. Considering what she had just been reading, this was more than alarming. She was petrified. "I- I don't understand. I'm more interested in how you accomplished such a journey. But i must ask this question instead: Why are you here?" Micshe was not interested in keeping things hidden in side of any mystery. The tension around her was tight, she had been dreaming of the southwestern wall burning down every night. Panthea's face reflected horror and grace, but Micshe was like a doe in the lights.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>29-02-2012, 16:50:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D43-1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sage House 205<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><br><hr><br>The door was held open and Panthea entered, followed by the other Sages. The first thing she noticed were all the books. It immediately reminded her of home and her own room in the Grecian camp. While Panthea was a bit more organized, she still had stacks of books everywhere. She also had less furniture. Panthea liked to live a much more sparse lifestyle, finding the need for anything frilly or fancy unneeded. And yes she considered most furniture frilly and fancy. Panthea believed simplicity helped bring her closer to knowledge and her power. She was again reminded of the dress but resisted the urge to tug on it.<br><br>Panthea looked toward the desk and caught the eyes of the one called Micshe. While her face remained stoic, Panthea inwardly admired the woman's fiery hair and wondered if it matched her spirit. Oh she craved a bit of rest and was pretty sure she could overlook her disdain for furniture if only to rest her aching feet. But now was not the time for rest. She could rest later. Now was the time for informing. Now was the time for action.<br><br>"Master Sage Micshe," Panthea greeted the woman formally, extending her head slightly in respect. "I will detail our trip later if you wish. We've been sent from the Sage camp in Greece to lend aid. I had a vision of a particularly powerful group of unwanted strangers heading toward Anders." Panthea gave no thought to whether anyone would believe her. She had always grown up accepted and used for her ability, rather than mocked. "The name of your town, Anders, came to me as a whisper and I took all this information to the elders in our camp. They made the decision to send all of us directly. We had a larger number of Slayers and Supporters but lost quite a few on the way over. Our camp sent all they could spare. We are to be at your service for as long as you will have us." Panthea ended her speech with another respectful extension of her head.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>02-03-2012, 09:57:12</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rOmDXA9kIDc/TeY47eoAauI/AAAAAAAAAPE/sXxfg2vK3yc/s400/245234-florence-welch.jpg)(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TeN-8HbUZdY/TIU2mR6mQlI/AAAAAAAAADs/xla5IY3y1no/S350/blonde+hippy.jpg)</div><strong>Micshe Variel - Ili'Meni Westcott <br>Sage House 205<br>Day 1 - Scorpio Sun, Gemini moon<br>Tagged</strong>: Panthea Salvai<br><br><hr><br>"Right." Micshe swallowed hard, trying to process what she had just been told. 'This woman had visions of the future.' That was not too odd, 'There is a sureness to her that I can't seem to define.' The woman took a lot of time to ponder her choice of words. Standing, up she closed each one of the seven books in front of her slowly, and turning in a pace, making over ten steps before she begin to speak again, "Given any reason, this house would gladly accept any help that is offered. With that being said, you can consider yourselves members of the house of the Dead Arrow." She stopped her pacing, now standing within reach of Panthea. "Right now, we only have two empty guestrooms, so most of you will have to sleep in the Forge. After you sort that out, I'll have Ili'meni help you find them.<br><br>She was a terrible host, and not a single part of her cared about how comfortable the company would be as they stayed. The title of the house seemed to come directly from Micshe's frozen eyes. Her focus shifted quickly. She turned around to embody this and approached the table she had been sitting at just moments before. Her books were all shut on the other side. Bracing herself, she leaned back against the standing wood and put one hand against her temple. She could not focus, there were so many questions that she needed an answer for. Many of these were in her mind well before Panthea had arrived. It seemed to her that the universe was offering a message. With patience, she would fully tap this wonderful little resource. Among the most obvious pieces of information, she would have to deal with the most basic first: "What is your name young lady?"<br><br><hr><br>Ili'meni scurried through the small hallways that worked themselves through the service rooms. At one time, House 205 was able to hire servers and cooks, janitors, and otherwise. Now, none of them were present. Ili'meni did most of these jobs. It explained the integrity of their study. But it did not explain The young blonde's eagerness to aid the broken troops that Panthea had brought with her. there was a goodness that oozed off of her. In every world, she put herself behind the people in her company. A natural omega. Ili'meni was not pleased, she was meant to please.<br><br>The hallways that she used in the back of the house were small, only five feet high, and poorly planned. The structure had had most of it's walls rebuilt and reinforced since the house had been placed. So, the halls were snug too, Ili'meni had to crouch while she walked just to carry her errands through them. She changed three candles, hardly storing the memories as she performed the subtle task. There was a bundle of fresh white candles in a bag on her back. She used a knife to clear the candle holders free of melted wax. She put a pot of hot water on the stove, and fueled the fire underneath it with three logs. There were dishes that needed to be washed, but the time was not available to clean them. She needed to get some food for Panthea's party.<br><br>There was always soup, hot and ready to serve. She made a batch of her potato concoction every day, and it always tasted best as the sun was setting. That event was still over three hours away, though. In a third pot on the stove, including the water that she'd just added, yesterdays soup had been stored and reheated. The most useful device that The Sages of House 205 had received from the towns mechanics was a small refrigerator. Surely, Ili'meni could do well without it, but she was starting to forget how. It had been expensive, but it was a God-send. Deliberating over the stove, Ili'meni decided that it was probably better to feed these exhausted escorts with yesterdays stew. It would likely taste better.<br><br>She carried three bags and a full tray that held the whole pot of stew as well as wooden spoons, wooden bowls, and enough bread to feed them all for hours. getting through the tiny hallways in the back of the house was a slow adventure that tested the endurance in her arms. The food made it safely to the bathe, where the dining area also resided. Those who had been washing themselves or resting there, were quick to realize what was happening. The smell filled half of the house, and Ili'meni was a beacon no matter what she was carrying. "The soup is mostly potatoes, but there's a whole garden in there as well as some chicken." The glittering eyes of her eager guests thanked her with mostly quiet words. "Eat to your fill. There is more if this doesn't provide for everyone." The tray was set down on one of the many tables, and Ili continued on her way through the house. Still carrying the three bags that she had retrieved from the back of the house, she ended up changing out two more candles in the bathe and another three in the main hallway. Mische's voice reverberated through the door, Ili'meni stopped to eavesdrop for a moment, as the door was still pushed open. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>03-03-2012, 22:53:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D43-1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sage House 205<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Micshe Variel<br><br><hr><br>Panthea felt herself almost holding her breath as she waited for the woman's reply. They'd traveled continuously for sixteen days to reach this area and to hear the response of this woman. They would never make it back, were they turned away. Micshe was clearly in thought as she closed each of the books on her desk and walked slowly toward the others. Panthea was fairly certain she could feel her fellow Sage companions bracing themselves for the worst possible answer. This was the first time in the entire journey that Panthea contemplated the possibility of being turned away. It was something that should have crossed her mind.<br><br>When Micshe verbally noted her acceptance, Panthea's relief was almost audible. Though the woman's words were curt, she was warmed by the welcome given her and the ghost of a smile could be seen playing in Panthea's eyes. She, of course, would have gladly given one of the guest rooms to any of the others but she knew from past precedents that morale was kept high when the leader didn't shy from the leading position. She would need to accept the guest room and assign the other to the sage the Elders had bestowed as her second in command, the one to deliver the message were Panthea cut down on the travel.<br><br>Panthea inclined her head once again but held the inclination for a matter of seconds. "Thank you Sage Micshe. I speak for my companions when I say that we are very humbled and appreciative of your accommodations and acceptance."<br><br>She watched as Micshe struggled with comprehending the information thrown at her. If Panthea had been the nurturing type, she may have gone to the woman to offer a comforting hand. However, she stood her ground and looked on until the woman once again responded.<br><br>"Panthea Salvai," Panthea answered, "And these, my Sage companions, are Orion, Gantry, Leon, and Allona." Panthea made a small motion with her left hand to encompass the others behind her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>05-03-2012, 11:26:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rOmDXA9kIDc/TeY47eoAauI/AAAAAAAAAPE/sXxfg2vK3yc/s400/245234-florence-welch.jpg)</div><strong>Micshe Variel<br>Sage House 205<br>Day 1 - Scorpio Sun, Gemini moon<br>Tagged</strong>: Panthea Salvai<br><br><hr><br>"Young Ms. Salvai." Micshe stood up straight again and started her pace around the study. She spoke to nothing, perhaps the sound of her own voice. Her walk was slow, almost a fourth of the time of her tongue, "First, I must outline the situation in this <em>town</em>. We are low on support. We always have been, I think it's because of the very nature of Anders. Our walls are too wide. We cannot protect the space we have. However, we survive, and The Order seems to think that that's good enough. We are only Seven Sages, six slayers guard our people. Two thousand souls, and fourty squared kilometers to patrol. I needn't go further, we live a hard life here. 'The Dead Arrow' " Micshe was trying to be light. "Indeed, I believe you may have arrived with more hats than we have to wear." <br><br>The tested woman was near to the other Sages, Panthea's entourage. She kindly leaned forward and spoke more intimately with them. Her focus seemed to be on Orion, it may have been his name, but Micshe was quickly hypnotized by him. "Again, I am Master Micshe Variel. I do hope Ili'meni had the decency to introduce herself. She's so busy, hardly ever says goodbye anymore. Just zips about, such a gentle soul." Micshe formed a forced smile and looked at Panthea. Then, quickly she looked back to the other guests of the house. "Ms. Salvai, please ask your guests to join the others in the Forge. I'd like to speak with you privately." As Micshe commanded Panthea, she walked back to the cluttered side of her large desk. Her chair was almost exactly in the center of the large room.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>05-03-2012, 11:51:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D43-1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sage House 205<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Micshe Variel<br><br><hr><br>Panthea watched as Micshe paced, listening to her speak. Such a hard life they lead, though it wasn't terribly different back in Greece. The sun seemed to shine more and the weather a touch warmer, but they were short of protection there as well. And now with their number gone, Panthea didn't wish to think of the horrors befalling her beloved home as they spoke. Orion stayed silent as the woman spoke to him, though he did let her notice he was paying attention by his gentle nod and curvature of a smile on his lips. Micshe asked them to depart and they looked to Panthea for confirmation. Panthea inclined her head in dismissal and they were quickly gone, partly out of respect and partly in need of surrendering to their exhaustion.<br><br>Upon their departure, Panthea stepped forward gracefully, closing the gap for a bit more of an intimate setting. Panthea clasped her hands in front of her and waited for Micshe to ask the questions to which she needed answers.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>06-03-2012, 01:51:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rOmDXA9kIDc/TeY47eoAauI/AAAAAAAAAPE/sXxfg2vK3yc/s400/245234-florence-welch.jpg)</div><strong>Micshe Variel<br>Sage House 205<br>Day 1 - Scorpio Sun, Gemini moon<br>Tagged</strong>: Panthea Salvai<br><br><hr><br>The red headed Sage continued on her path, sitting down in the chair that Panthea had found her in. She held her back up, and arranged her face as the passing thoughts consumed her. 'Still so many questions.' It was nice to see that the group before her had left so willingly. It showed trust, honesty, and it displayed Panthea's leadership. All of those things were on Michse's mind as a concern. These concerns lightened a bit, now, sure that there was nothing foul in the air.<br><br>"You said that there was a vision. A vision that you shared with The Order of Greece. Which in turn delivered you to this House. I do not question your abilities, for I can tell you right now, that your vision was of absolute truth... There... is...<em> hell </em>on the outside of these walls right now. It's coming closer and growing in strength every day." Michse paused, trying not to turn into a walking textbook. She had a tendency to dramatize the situation, and inform the uninformed with relentlessness. <br><br>"What am I asking is thus: Please, tell me the deepest details of your vision. I need to hear everything that the Order in Greece has heard. I need to know why you are here, as told from your mouth. It will help... clarify further inquiry."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>07-03-2012, 20:14:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D43-1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sage House 205<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Micshe Variel<br><br><hr><br>Panthea stood still, listening stoically, in her original spot all the while Micshe spoke. She did not give any outward hint that what Micshe told her affected her. However, inside, her mind was racing. So her vision had yet to occur. This was beneficial. But they seemed to be experiencing much of same hostility as the rest of the world, perhaps even more so. Such a large city apparently did little to quell the bloodthirstiness of the surrounding demons. Perchance, the size is veritably increasing the blood lust. Flashes of that fateful night, not long ago, on which the relentless demons attacked the Greek Order, flooded the mind behind her eyes. She paused as Micshe paused, taking a couple seconds longer on a blink to clear her mind of such thoughts.<br><br>As Micshe petitioned Panthea for details, Panthea's legs threatened to buckle beneath her. She decided that she wouldn't do this woman much good were she sprawled out on the floor. Thus, she relented her aversion to furniture. Taking small soft steps, she crossed to a chair nearby Micshe's desk, and slid in gracefully. Panthea's feet screamed their appreciation, as did her back, shoulders, and all parts of her body. Her mind and eyes yearned for sleep but they would just have to wait, regardless of their protests. Panthea didn't skip a beat as she launched into the detailed explanation of her oracular vision.<br><br>"At first it is a shadow. It sweeps and slithers through forests, slippery like an eel. Erratic and out of place, as oil in water. A larger version affords me the ability to see the expanse in which it claims as it traverses the entirety of the continent. Again, with a closer look, and I behold demons bowing down and showing reverence to this shadow worshiping and caring for it.<br><br>And then there is a battle. Highly trained martial artists wielding blades of steel, fall beneath men with fangs. There are tattooed bodies writhing and ancient magics being cast. Screams of agony rip through the air as fangs tear flesh from bone.<br><br>Most abruptly, the raging war stops. In its place stand old wise men, but they are not men. They are demons. Their short, thin, twisted bodies are hidden by heavy robes. Wings beat on the back of my mind and a word is whispered: 'Shar'inav Demon.' They seem weak and unable to defend themselves. Confusion surrounds me as to why they are so detailed if they don't pose as much of a threat. But looks may be deceiving, so I leave nothing out of my account.<br><br>I am left with the number five. We must watch for this number. I'm pretty sure it has to do with the number of demons coming this way. Beasts even. And then my mind is freed." Panthea ended her recounting, her unmoving eyes boring into Micshe, unable to shake the intensity of her vision.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>09-03-2012, 09:57:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rOmDXA9kIDc/TeY47eoAauI/AAAAAAAAAPE/sXxfg2vK3yc/s400/245234-florence-welch.jpg)</div><strong>Micshe Variel<br>Sage House 205<br>Day 1 - Scorpio Sun, Gemini moon<br>Tagged</strong>: Panthea Salvai<br><br><hr><br>Micshe was reeling. The vision had ignited her imagination. "This is useful information. I know the Shar'inav demon. I've never come across one before, but i do have a book..." Micshe stood from her desk, not attempting to make a note of her motion. She hurried to the northern edge of the room, disappearing behind a stack of books. She mumbled to herself, trying to recount the volume that she'd encountered the shar'inav in. From spine to spine, her brittle fingers tapped.<br><br>"Ah!" She exclaimed from her short distance away from Panthea. Her certain steps followed the path that she had traveled moments before. Returning to Panthea's vision, she held an open book with a red cover in front of her. Her left hand held it still, the right hand flipped through the pages. "Of course." She exclaimed with sarcasm in frustration. "this book is from the early days of the AW, so there is no index. Give me a moment." Micshe approached Panthea, walking around the table and standing over the young Sage with determination in her eyes. <br><br>She waited there for a long moment before speaking again. "There." Micshe stopped searching and lowered the book to the table. The page was 327 and 328. On the left page, there was a picture using over half of the layout, it's caption was 'fig.243<em>b</em> The Shar'inav breed of Falme.' <em>Falme</em> appeared to be the realm of hell that this demon emerged from. The image on the page was a disturbing one. It pictured two Shar'inav demons that matched the image of Panthea's vision exactly. Micshe begin to speak, not completely aware of the omen that had just been verified. Her eyes were open toward Panthea, but she seemed to be speaking to herself again. "These..." She seemed to be trying to find a word. "These demons are not wise, they are scoundrels. The first account of their presence on Earth wasn't until The Age Without." Micshe's finger jetted down to page 328, her eyes followed. "These entries layout their hunting patterns. They appear to be shadowy guides, luring their victims away from, fire and safe havens. Now, Falme is a brutish circle of hell." Micshe's mind sprawled out into the open space of her study with high ceilings. She begin to move around, looking upward, but keeping her hands on the high part of her thighs. She gestured to no one, but only rarely. "The breeds from this place are usually warrior demons, henchmen, blades for hire. The Shar'inav, if I remember correctly, they are intellectual and small, their numbers are many, serving as the bottom of the food chain. It is known that breeds from Falme are good at working in the dark, because they are forced to in order to find and eat these little bastards. But I digress, the capable individuals of the Shar'inav breed are exceedingly studied in dark magics...The darkest magics. Very dangerous magics.<br><br>"This would be why other monsters are worshiping them as they approach!" Micshe turned to Panthea with sudden intrigue. The sun beamed in from the window behind her, she appeared as a silhouette to the unshielded eyes of Panthea. Micshe begin to walk toward her as she spoke, loosening the grip of the light around her body as she did, her features came out of the darkness. "You said that there were demons serving this evil, caring for it." The Sages eyes were hot with recognition and confidence.&nbsp; "You said that they moved as a shadow through the wilderness." Excitement inside of her throat sounded like the inner thoughts of a mad man. "These demons live in shadow, and they create shadow around them with the potency of their aura! This is our enemy!" Micshe made a dramatic pause her, forcing the intensity of her thoughts onto Panthea. "There will be five Shar'inav demons on our coast, and we will be prepared."<br><br>A weight lifted off of Micshe and she suddenly felt tired, accomplished and full of reward. "Thank you lady Salvai. This house, and all those that depend on it will be forever in your debt." Micshe did not bow or lower herself to her knees. No, Micshe stood up straighter and let her hands relax, even slipping one into the pocket of her large sash. "Your journey, your tenacity, the aptitude of your escort..." She slowed to a stop, in awe. "We will repay you for your hardships."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>20-03-2012, 18:46:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D43-1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sage House 205<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Micshe Variel<br><br><hr><br>Panthea watched from unfeeling eyes as Micshe paced the room excitedly. When Micshe showed the images from the page, Panthea nodded.<br><br>"Yes, those are definitely the creatures from my vision..." She confirmed Micshe's suspicions. Panthea's facial features were completely inimical to Micshe as the woman began speaking feverishly on the subject. However, Panthea took in every word the knowledgeable woman spouted, hanging on them in her mind, connecting dots.<br><br>As Micshe came to an end of her speech and began expressing gratitude toward Panthea, she rose from her chair. She raised her head, face blank. She was unaccustomed to being thanked for her duties. She tilted her head slightly and looked up at the woman as she was a bit taller in stature than Panthea.<br><br>"Your gratitude is appreciated," Panthea assured her. "But everything we have done and continue to do is all for the Order. It is our place in the world. That much we are taught in Greece. We ask for no more recompense than the barest of accommodations. Times are just as tough here as they are elsewhere and we will lend our hands and swords to the Order here just as we lent them back home." Panthea's face revealed naught but her eyes burned with sincerity. "All I ask now is for a place to lay my head for a little while's rest." Panthea steadied herself on the back of the chair, her stoicism breaking for a moment, as exhaustion threatened to take over.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>22-03-2012, 09:10:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rOmDXA9kIDc/TeY47eoAauI/AAAAAAAAAPE/sXxfg2vK3yc/s400/245234-florence-welch.jpg)(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TeN-8HbUZdY/TIU2mR6mQlI/AAAAAAAAADs/xla5IY3y1no/S350/blonde+hippy.jpg)</div><strong>Micshe Variel - Ili'Meni Westcott <br>Sage House 205<br>Day 1 - Scorpio Sun, Gemini moon<br>Tagged</strong>: Panthea Salvai<br><br><hr><br><br>Ili'meni was in the room. Micshe would not allow such a young ear to catch wind of this information, but the young tunnel-rat of a woman had hidden herself under one of the many tables. She laid in the far north-west corner of the room. She did her best to scribble notes down on to a loose sheet of paper that happened to be above her. <br><br>When the majority of the Grecian Sages exited the main study, it peaked the young blonde's interest. She knew that something important was being discussed. Whether a twitching fowlness be afoot, or an overriding victory. She willed herself to be in the center of it, the displaced image of her body was nearly bare. She had cast&nbsp; her dress aside in the halls for mobility. A grey slip fell from the tips of her shoulders down to her thighs. It had been bunched up inside of her corset. Slipping her arms through designed holes, she looked like an exuberant monk, graceful, slim, engineered for reconnaissance. The slip was light, and it hugged her hips. Her hair was tied up, she hadn't much time to prepare herself. So, a ripped piece of her dress had to function as a hair-tie. She had sneaked in to the study out of Panthea's sight, and Micshe had been facing the other direction while she moved. <br><br>Her woven eyes were wide with excitement, scribbling keywords quietly and listening hard to discern the context.<br><br>Micshe couldn't help but scoff at the suggestion. "I understand, but if I treat you too kindly, do not get upset with me. Both the Bathe and the Forge serve the same purpose. Treat yourself in this time of rest. When the remainder of the house returns, we will formulate a strategy to defend the walls. Slate, Embers, and Woodworth are scheduled to return tomorrow morning. The Wise's and our two younger slayers will return in three days. They've gone on a training expedition with the Anders' Guard." She rounded her desk as she spoke, standing near her chair, almost afraid to sit down.<br><br>In a few seconds, she overlooked the situation to see if there was anything she had missed. It didn't take long, she found thousands of holes poked in this painting. She could feel the energy in Panthea deflating with every passing moment, and she ushered her body language away. "Bah." Micshe threw her arms to the side and sat down in her chair with a shocking indignity for grace. The chair jeered to the side and scraped the floor. <br><br>Ili'meni's eyebrows creased, 'Micshe's chair never pulls when she's resting.'<br><br>"I will let you away, then." Micshe was smiling with her eyes and her lips. "Go, join your comrades. Enjoy your victory however you mind to."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>03-04-2012, 17:19:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D43-1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Sage House 205<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Micshe Variel<br><br><hr><br>Panthea nodded with pause, a bow of her head in respect. "Thank you, Master Sage Micshe. Please don't hesitate to wake me if I'm needed. For now, I will retire to my room."<br><br>Panthea turned on her heel, straightened her back and held her head high. With such accustomed grace and dignity did she leave the room. She found her way back to her room and dumped her bag on her bed. She'd never been so relieved to see a particular piece of furniture in all her life!<br><br>She reached behind her back and tugged on the zipper of her dress. She let it fall to the floor in a pool and breathed a sigh of relief that the heaviness had been alleviated. Wearing nothing but a simple white slip, she stepped out of the dress and hung it in the chest. The rest of her clothes would have to wait. Reaching to her head, she unclasped the clips and let her long hair flow down her back. Looking longingly at the bed, she sighed before exiting the room.<br><br>Down the hall again, she found the Bathe. Without hesitation, she stripped herself of her white slip and stepped into the Bathe. She washed the dirt that had begun caking itself in unnoticeable places and paid special attention to her feet. The once delicate skin was now blistered, cut, and filthy.<br><br>After scrubbing her body, Panthea exited the Bathe and returned her slip to her body. Wearily, she made her way back to her room, bare feet padding on the floor. Once there, Panthea collapsed exhausted into bed. It took mere seconds for sleep to claim her.<br><br><div align="center">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D42.jpg)</div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>10-04-2012, 09:08:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It started with a rumble of thunder, nothing too out of the ordinary on a fairly cloudy day. When the lightening started, it was only passively impressive. Purpley blue strands, a little longer and a little wider than normal, crackled through the sky. The winds picked up a bit, blowing away clothes hanging on the line to dry, window shutters clamored noisily, and dirt from the streets whirled about faces. It wasn't until the sky began to swirl directly above, did the ominous feeling prevail. One large section of clouds darkened into a purpley black abyss, billowing high above. An omen? Certainly. That could possibly have been driven home by the downfall of large spherical hail in all directions.<br><br>The Gate Camp was being pummeled when the earthquake began. Just a small rumble at first, trinkets fell from shelves, water rippled heavily. But soon the tremors increased, furniture toppled over, cracks appeared in foundations of buildings. Suddenly the sound of rushing water filled the ears of the people in the Gate Camp. Through the streets and around every corner came the Anders River, having risen from its place in the city. More water than was ever thought to be in the belly of the river flowed through the Camp.<br><br>Men, women, and children rushed for their homes. Some were bludgeoned by hail and yet others were caught up in the rushing waters. Terror rang true but ever present was that black omen high up in the sky.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>03-05-2012, 08:56:29</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Main Street</strong></span><br>-Two hours after Tower's collapse-<br>-Scorpio Sun / Gemini Moon-<br><br>- Ili'Meni Westcott <br>- Micshe Variel <br>- Gennavive Iis<br><br>Tagged : Panthea<br><br>There were five horses on main street, anxious and snarling under the collapse of cold rain. Ili' Meni had two lead ropes in her left hand, twisted about her wrist. The animals trusted her without hesitation. Micshe was like a statue, thirty meters from, but still nearest to the Gate. Her's was the only horse that had any color on it besides black. It was painted brown and white. The only male in the group, it was considerably larger, and more muscular than the other four horses. Gennavive worked as a house maid, but she was no push over, and had been waiting for an opportunity to prove herself.<br><br>the three of them, centaur-ed and stern in the downpour with two pack animals on Ili'Meni's left arm. They planned on delivering much needed supply to the Tower Camp. Both of the horses without riders were stocked full with first- aid gear and emergency rations. A rider had come with a message only twenty minutes ago. It was blunt, and not easily misunderstood: "Evil strikes the door. Barracks destroyed. Tower razed. Send aid." The three of them were waiting for Panthea to arrive before departing. They had spoken with her upon their reception of the message. Quickly deciding, together, to head north without hesitation. <br><br>Their small convoy had inspired a few members of Anders' guard to approach them with hands softly placed on their sheathed weapons' hilts. Two of them were males, the third was a woman. She stood far away, too suspicious for her own good. the soldiers were underneath Michse's powerful horse. Her voice was cold. "We're riding to the Tower camp, we'll be acting as medics, I believe. All of our Slayers are out on jobs. There's no way to pull them back. You may follow if you want. We'll be departing in only moments. I suggest you keep these walls safe, and guard the north of the camp. If you send anyone to follow, bring some mechanics. Reports say that the watch-tower has been razed. I'm expecting darkness to flock there."<br><br>As the guard responded to Michse's shivering words of discerning, indirect threats, footsteps came onto main-street from the east. "I've heard the same reports, miss Variel. Move with haste. We will be sending aid. Trust our blades and bows. Mechanics if we're lucky, milady." He seemed scared, unable to understand what was happening. Michse took a moment to observe him. He was young, probably in his first couple years of service. There was innocence in his eyes. He had likely only seen enough battle to sharpen his blade once or twice. It would be wise to give him wisdom before departing. she may never see him again. "Silence can save you in a world without light. If you find yourself confused. Stay still until you're sure of the wisest decision."<br><br>Michse turned to her left to look at the approaching figures. Ili'meni and Gennavive turned with her. It was nearly time to leave.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>14-05-2012, 20:24:46</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/D13.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Panthea Salvai (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132468.msg5889710#msg5889710)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Tower Area<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Afternoon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Those Gathered<br><br><hr><br>Panthea could feel the tremors shaking the earth as her bed jutted about the floor but the Sage was far from lucid. Her body writhed on the bed, twisting and turning. Not even a few moments of undisturbed sleep, the thought lingered somewhere deep in the back of her mind. The visions took over the front of her mind, showing her nothing but foggy colorful pictures of roving death and destruction. From the tower she'd spotted far away upon entrance, flooded many monsters of varying types. Most were demons that she'd only read about in books. She'd never truly seen them in action and they were terrifying. Claws scraped and teeth gnashed. Panthea's physical body shuddered and heaved with each new monster making itself known in her head. There in the core originated three beings. They weren't very distinguishable but she knew in every fiber of her being that these were the ones controlling the demons.<br><br>With a scream still silent on her parted lips, Panthea was pulled from her version to a sitting position in her bed. She took in the room around her. Shelves had crashed to the floor, the floor itself was cracked and her bed was somehow in the very center of the room. The tremors had long since stopped. She looked down at herself and noticed she'd wriggled her way out of her slip and it was no where to be found. Suddenly, the images of her vision came flooding back and she held her head in her hands as it wracked her brain with ice picks. <br><br>Once the visions stopped, she leapt from her bed, cheeks still wet with undesired, yet accustomed tears. She pulled on the first thing she grabbed from her bag once she found it under a pile of rubble. The dress had laces up the side and she took hold of the bottom and yanked, freeing one side of the laces up to her thigh. She threw open the door and padded her way quickly on bare feet to the Master Sage's room. The door was open and others were inside talking frantically. Orion, her allocated second in command, had already made it, knowing it wise to not check on Panthea before she made her own appearance. His presence elicited a sigh of relief from her.<br><br>After relaying her message and agreeing upon traveling to the tower as a group, Panthea left the gathering and made her way to where her companions had been staying. She found she'd lost four of her brave Supporters. She'd lost one Slayer and two were injured and couldn't walk. But what hit her the hardest was the loss of Leon, her fellow Sage. He'd been crushed under the weight of a falling supplies cabinet. While she'd lost quite a number of Slayers and Supporters on her trip from Greece, this was the first Sage. And Leon had grown up with her in her own camp at the Grecian site. But there was no time to mourn.<br><br>With a tear loosed, Panthea rose and gathered her forces. She made it quickly to the area agreed upon by the other Sages, the others were already there on horse back and waited their approach.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Eighth Winter - The Gate Camp</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>16-05-2012, 03:23:07</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.radekaphotography.com/images/Oak-Forest-Trail.jpg)</div><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Gate to Tower Trail</strong></span><br>-Two hours after Tower's collapse-<br>-Scorpio Sun / Gemini Moon-<br><br>- Ili'Meni Westcott <br>- Micshe Variel <br>- Gennavive Iis<br><br>Tagged : Panthea<br><br>Their piston hooves piled the earth into stacks of compacted thumps. The four woman had left with two of the horses, still used as pack animals. Panthea had been put on the front of Micshe's horse. They were riding too hard, and no one was allowed a side-saddle.&nbsp; Ten medics, and one mechanic were marching at double-time behind them. They lost twenty seconds with every minute. The woman that were rising had a fortunate road. The path between the Tower camp and the Gate Camp had been used for years in many ways. It was a trade route, and the soldiers used it all day every day. Not to say that it was straight, the demonic presence in the woods had paved it originally, and they were curved in nature. <br><br>Movement was easy though, and speed was reached. The horses were pulsing with heat, and sweat. Breathing hard, and not letting up, it was as if they knew what laid ahead of them. Almost like they were fully aware of the urgency. <br><br>In this case, the Sages were the first to arrive at the Tower camp. The screams were loud, and the fire was pouring upward. It didn't phase Micshe. Her eyes were thick with tension, and her pupils seemed wider than her iris'. <br><br>Gennavive and Ili'meni were horrified. As Micshe stopped the charge short of the enemy, she turned around to see two faces full of fear and desperation. "Lady Variel! why are we not moving!" Ili'meni was furious.<br><br>"We cannot charge into a battle-zone that we are unfamiliar with. Espe-" Micshe was interrupted. The participants were forced to scream over the noises above them. The horses were glad to rest, gnarling with heaves of passionate air. Their legs were busy, stretching out and calming down. The girls shuffled around each other without control of their animals. However, Ili'meni's outburst was what had stopped the Sage from speaking.<br><br>"They are dying inside! I can hear them screaming." Ili'meni's chest lifted high with rapid breathes. It looked like she had run the whole way here, and not her horse. Gennavive was silent, but tears were forming on her face. she had made good friends with the Sages and Slayers in both houses, and worked for them equally. It was in good fortune that she was hit by the flood and not the demon horde.<br><br>"These creatures are Vorin. The rider that came to camp was told by the master Sage of House 409. We are dealing with sadistic demons, Ms. Westcott. They do not seperate warrior from medic. Our white flags mean nothing to them, maybe napkins. We cannot charge. We will dismount and move carefully. We are three Sages and a house maid. We are not prepared for battle. Somewhere inside that camp, there are two Sages and Two Slayers. They are our first priority. All of them will be flying white colors.<br><br>Micshe had almost forgotten about Panthea. She had been concerned the whole time, such a small dress, and such a fast pace. the red head pushed at the woman's hip, to signal her dismount. She wouldn't get off of the horse until her fellow rider went first. "Gennavive, put the horses up on these trees." <br><br>The woman had stopped twenty feet before the forest cleared itself into a tree-line, and subsequently: The Tower camp. Micshe had lead them through backtrails, and slim paths in order to hide from the Vorin demons within the village, apperhently on the slaughter.<br><br>(Continue in "Inside of Anders" Thread - headlined with "The Tower Camp")
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