Phoenix Forest

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Fri Oct 28, 2005 7:23 pm

Ozarka looked around the surrounding lands outside of his city of Port Illumination. The land was still scarred with the ashes of the burned forest. It was time to rebuild this place, and re invite the elves to their former homeland. If not under the protection of Elwynn, under the protection of Port Illumination.Ozarka gathered around him his earth mages and water mages.The earth mages through what seemed almost thunder-storm like sheets of what seemed to be brown rain, yet what was actually tree seeds, millions and millions of tree seeds. With the tree seeds thrown into the ground, the earth mages covered them with light layers of dirt. Then he nodded towards the water mages, and a light drizzle fell.Once the soil was wet the earth mages began meditating. They would become one with the tree seeds and they began praying. True, it would take a very long time, many months of meditating, added to rest etc and other necessary times - yet, it would be quicker than natural growth.Soon, Ozarka would make sure that the Elves had a welcomed home to return too, or atleast something Elwynese could return.

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Fri Oct 28, 2005 8:15 pm

(Sure, i'll bite.)Mirioth Island.1:34 AMInside the ruined castle that made up the ancient residence of the Russell family, Cerune Russell (of the (in)famous Russell Company) sat at an old desk, pouring over reports of various things. Since the debacle of the battle of Acre, she had been something of a recluse. It wasn't the fact she, her commanders, or the soldiers had acted poorly that had caused the stalemate, but indeed the politicians were to blame. This was more than she cared to deal with, and though she was still commander, had left most of the current orders for Gamemalvin to finish. A bleak war depression had made a home inside her heart, and she had yet to expell it.A light knock on the door woke her from a light slumber. In her right hand was a shot glass, and a half-empty bottle lay waiting on the desk. She moaned lightly, and sat up in the chair. She was groggy, but not drunk yet. "Enter" she replied.A soldier walked in and saluted. He was wearing modern fatiques, but the pointed ears and the strange eye color gave away his race. Cerune saluted from the chair, but didn't bother getting up. It was a breach of protocol to not stand, but the soldier wasn't about to point it out. Besides, she wasn't sure just how tipsy she was. "Sir, here are the latest reports from Shirekeep." She smiled ever so faintly, and nodded. "Excellent. Thank you." She saluted again (breaking protocol, again...) and the soldier walked back out.She opened the file and began disinterestedly reading over the files until she read a small report from the new Duchy of Elywnn that perked her interest.Second Morsday of AnadjanNorthern ElywnnReports indicate that Count Ozarka Monshas relocated his County (and people) toElywnn, and work has allready started ona new forest. Rumors state that he is nterested in having the elves return to heir former homeland. The Duke of Yardistanis rumored to be hesistant, as are the eldersof the remaining Elven clans, especially sincethe Barony of Antya is still at war with Elywnn.-S.H.I.N.E.She mused, and looked out of the window at the waning crescent moon. "What...? Why on Micras would he be interested in the Elves? It has to be a trick. Ardy must be pulling his strings." She grabbed the bottle of Shirekeep Ale, and poured herself another small glass. "I'll wait and see just how this will go down before I respond." And with that, she crawled into the bottom of the glass and passed out. There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find. Edited by: AngelGuardian93 at: 10/28/05 21:21

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Sat Oct 29, 2005 6:02 am

Ozarka looked out onto the field. For countless miles little tree seeds could be seen slowly growing, perhaps an inch every three hours or so, yet, again, it was progress beyond that of natural growth.He had set his dragons to using their mighty wings to carve out irrigation trenches - for in this new forest small farming plots would appear here and there, yet it would only be along side these trenches. To the peasantry they had begun building small cottages, and some of half-elven descent were already living there. Those of half-elven, who were skilled int he ways of their ancestors, had set about carving ancient runes of the elves, etc. He gathered with him stone masons, who began constructing a grand library, which would serve as a learning place for when the elves returned.

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Sat Oct 29, 2005 7:39 pm

It was getting ready to open... the tree's were starting to burst into life, and cottagse were almost done, yet to put the ELven touch elves were needed. Ambassadors on white dragons (symbolizing peace) were sent to Yardistan, the last known haven of Elves.

Osman Shahanshah · Post by **Osman Shahanshah** » Sun Oct 30, 2005 5:14 pm

Ardashirshahr, Lesser ZjandariaIn the VIP enclosure of the Lycurgus Club Ardashir Khan Osmani was sitting at the table eating steak, medium rare, the blood dripping onto the plate with each bite that the Shah of Babkha took, the woman sitting next to him, raven haired and athletic looking, dressed in the red uniform of the Elwynnbrigaden, was eating delicately from a small plate of salad, nonetheless she had a decadent and cruel streak about her somehow, the sense or scent of a decaying rose bloom. Every now and again she would cast an approving glance sideways at the gross spectacle of Khan devouring a lump of animal flesh.From the staff entrance stepped forward a smart and young looking subaltern, as subalterns tend to be, the old and ill favoured curiously never finding service with the famously ugly Shah. It was as they said a funny old thing.Purposefully and, curiously, without fear the sotvam marched up to the table at which the Khan of the Blue Horizon sat and briskly saluted.'Report from Brzgrad my Khan. Electromagnetic pulses reached saturation in Vladograd within the space of one millisecond and subsided. EMP coverage considered to be level suggested by optimun estimates.''As anticipated.' Replied Ardashir, grunting with his mouth full of masticated meat. 'It is when our troops enter the zone that we will discover what impact if any this has made upon Spetzjoe's toys. I can't afford to have too many more of my men reduced to a particle soup. Hmm, talking of which the crab soup was excellent, my complements to the chef. Be a good chap and pass them on for me.'The subaltern saluted, 'I would my Khan... but... you ordered the chef shot an hour ago.''Really? Why would I go and do a thing like that?''My Khan you said the bread rolls were not warm enough.''Hmm, pity. I liked Jared, he could flame grill like a god. Shame he wasn't immortal in other regards though.' At that Ardashir let out a short boisterous laugh and everyone else sitting in the enclosure chuckled dutifully - though not necessarily amused. They had learned to fear Ardashir's shooting moods as they were known.Taking that he had been dismissed, the sotvam, a lad called Sayikum, fresh from the King Majeed Academy and full of ambitions and aspirations, turned about and marched smartly out of the enclosure. Wolfwhistled as he went by some of the more drunken and jaded of the Shah's entourage.Having finished wolfing his steak Ardashir took another sip of Norashti red wine. Normally red wine was not a favourite of his, but he found that a good Norashti vintage matched nicely with the meat to be had in Elwynn. Well sated and happy he turned to face his companion the raven haired girl with the cruel lips and dark eyes who was sipping a flute of Champagne Mercier.'Victoria my dear. I was so happy to see you earlier that I completely forgot to enquire as to the reason for your visit. Now that we've done the rounds as it were perhaps you might care to enlighten me?'Victoria Rose pursed her lips and made a made a wry grimace. 'Can a little girl like me, who gets so lonely, not visit a dear old friend to congratulate him on becoming a Knight Companion of Stormark?'Ardashir gulped back his wine. Victoria was a playful sadist, replete with a full range of ambiguous charms, indeed he was often as not utterly charmed by her, especially when she adopted a faux innocent tone that was at the same time knowing and mocking. That said it was never far from his mind that she was also a plotter and a schemer, after his own heart it must be said, who always came with an agenda.'That may be so. Yet you didn't see fit to visit Kamalshahr to congratulate me on retaking the throne. I was hurt. Truely.' Ardashir winked at the girl who meekly fluttered her eyelids. They were both mocking each other and love it.'It was yours for the taking. How long did you keep that poor bloke on medication before packing him off to Tara?''Long enough for him to begin to believe he was a small businessman on a planet called Earth. I mean honestly what kind of name is Earth? The whole thing is hopelessly made up.'Victoria fluttered her eyelids some more, tracing the rim of her champagne flute with her index finger with deliberate absent mindedness.'Anyway, point was it was nothing new to you. Power behind the throne that you always were. Just a formality. Besides. What about you? You stopped visiting poor little me in my little love nest. One of the most desirable residences in Shirekeep and I had no one to play with.'Ardashir smiled grimly. 'Oh you mean the flat that turned out to be a SHINE safe house. I wonder why I stopped visiting! Besides you were never short of people to play with. Talking of which. I noticed you've taken to wearing the uniform of one of my regiments but are you still with SHINE?'Victoria sighed, 'No. They said I played too rough with the special guests. Imagine that? Little me playing too rough. It was hardly my fault if a few died.''Imagine that.' Ardashir repeated, nodding his head, 'So... working now for...?''Oh a bit here a bit there. Freelance really, something for the Kaiser, something for Attera, something for the GC. Workwise I'm on the market for anyone really. But for you I do special things out of kindness.''Hmm, and you are so very kind.' Ardashir replied sardonically, I bet all the prisoners you've played with in the past say so.'There was genuine glee in Victoria's eyes and excitement in her voice. 'Darling. Once around the block with Lil' Shocky and they'd say whatever I told them to.''No doubt. Now you were saying about thing of special kindness you'd do for me?''Certainly. You know that little project Count Ozarka is undertaking?'Ardashir frowned and nodded, 'The Phoenix Forest. Some sort terraforming project. The halluci throw a lot of mumbo jumbo around about it so I can't say I give it much thought.'Victoria leaned in closer 'Well perhaps you should. Do you know who it's for?'Ardashir shrugged his shoulders. 'Dunno. The Halluci?'Victoria smiled and placed her right index finger on the old beareded Khan's nose. 'As I used to say to my playmates wrong answer darling. I'll tell you who it is for. Do you remember our old mutual friends?'Ardashir's eyebrows arched. 'You mean the elfinshi?'Victoria smiled and moved her finger to his lips to shush him. 'I mean the very same. Our friends the elves. Your man Ozarka wants to rehabilitate them. Bring them out of hinding.'Ardashir was by now grinning insanely. 'Wow, I say that is interesting. Imagine. The elves. Back out of exile. What fun could be had!''Indeed. Exciting isn't it?''I'll say. Shall I order a cab?''Yes, I'll just be in the ladies room but if you order one now I'll be ready by the time it arrives.' Edited by: Osman Shahanshah at: 10/30/05 18:07

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Tue Nov 01, 2005 11:07 pm

(Hehe. Glad you like my dark Rose, Ardy. A compliment.)Mirioth Island.The Next day.Cerune Russell, the beauty of the Russell line, and acting countess for Amity, Mirioth, and So Sara, lifted her head ever so slowly. What time is it? she thought. The sun is out so it must be day. I really need to stop drinking so much... she reached out and touched her laptop's mousepad. She looked onto the bottom right hand side and spied the time. "Almost two pm... smooth Countess. REAL smooth. You're gonna be late." Suddenly there was a knock at the door. She winced at the sudden noise, and realized the sour truth that she was always a sour drunk. Slowly she let out a reply. "Enter... and speak in hushed tones please." The door opened and the same Elven aid as before entered. He saluted same as before, and she did the same as before. "Ma'am, the meeting is about to start in the inner council chamber. The Angel Guardian wanted me to make sure you would show up on time." She winced at the mention of the Angel, and knew she was in trouble. He never sent an aid to remind another noble of a meeting unless he was sure they weren't going to show. That meant he knew all about her growing all-too-real dependence on the sauce."Tell my duke I will be there on time." The Elf saluted again, and waited for her return salute. She did so (without standing up- again.) and he turned deftly and left. She slowly stood up, testing herself to see how hung-over she was. Allright, as long as there are no loud noises i'll be fine. she thought. She walked over to the desk and opened the upper left hand droor. She took out a small bottle marked with the label, "Sobertine". She wasn't sure just exactly WHAT it did, or what it was made out of, but it made her hangover's bearable. She put the bottle away and walked over to the adjacent bathroom and freshened up. With a new uniform, some fresh light makeup, and a tic-tac to freshen her breathe, she walked back out into her office, gathered her notes into a breifcase, and exited to the hallway. There were people all around the decaying structure, carrying out their various orders. As she walked by, the military members saluted (with her return salute), and the civilian government workers greeted her with friendly waves and gestures. She'd rather not have to acknowledge them or have them acknowledge her in return sometimes. She knew there were rumors, and sometimes it just made her want to scream and hide.As she passed a torn out part of the wall, no doubt from some long-forgotten battle, she peered out into an overgrown garden. In the center stood an old statue of Gman Pinky, the famous warrior bodyguard who's daughter began the split between the Pinkys and the Russells. She stopped walking and stood still, staring at the old statue. Memories flooded her of old times, of her and her brother playing in the garden, with the Angel Guardian watching over them."I remember the days when you ran through these hallways with reckless abandon, but now I see you barely walk them at a moderate pace."She jumped and turned around to find the same Angelguardian from her memories staring her in the face with an amused look on his face. "Oh Aggy, you scared me to death..." she stopped mid-sentance, and looked at her wristwatch. Two-Fifteen it said. "Oh no, i'm so sorry, I just lost track of time and-" He interupted her by raising his right arm to his chest level, palm out. "Please... Cerry... we both know why you are late. Frankly, it's starting to concern me." He watched as her countance fell and grew darker. She was ashamed that she let her behavior get so bad. "Aggy... i'm... sorry I..." He interupted her again. "Cerune, I know you took the loss of your brother the hardest of us all, and what you saw in Acre was a terrible thing, but I need a count I can depend on. The Miriothan underworld is beginning to notice your increasing absence, and it pains me to tell you this, but you're being replaced as count." She let out a sob, and instincively the guardian scooped her into his arms. "I'm so sorry... but you need to get help..." She nodded meekly in his arms, and hesitantly began to speak. "I... have failed... my brother and you... and the people." The angel shook his head. "You have faltered, but you have not failed. Not yet. There is yet one way you may redeem yourself." She looked back up at the creature who raised her and nodded. "Anything. Name it." He studied her face for a second, then nodded. "We recieved a peace brigade from Count Ozarka Monto, formerly of Kildare; now of Elwynn. He is replanting part of the forests of Elywnn, and seeks to have the Elves return to their home." Cerune narrowed her eyes, but nodded. "Count Monto may be genuine, but it's possible he's being set up by Ardy." Angel nodded, and continued. "I want you to return with them to the Phoenix Forest and see first hand just what's going on." Cerune nodded. "I will go...but what of Russell Company?" Aggy smiled at her. "Don't worry, Gamemalvin is doing a terrific job in your place. It will be waiting for you when you return." She nodded grimly, but gave a small smile. "When do I leave Aggy?" He replied."Immediately." There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find.

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Fri Nov 04, 2005 6:39 pm

Ozarka smiled as the wind picked up his hair, and his eyes gave off a cheery neon-blue as he saw the Yardistani delegation arriving on his white-diplomacy (if that is what you wish to call them) dragons arrived at the utter most top level of the Tower of Halluci, the tower from which all government affairs were handled, where the entire County and people's were governed from.The Ardishirsharan delegation had already arrived just a day before, and was now waiting in the Negotiations Hall, he greeted the Angel and his delegation and bade them into the Diplomacy Room, Negotiations Hall.

Osman Shahanshah · Post by **Osman Shahanshah** » Sun Nov 06, 2005 2:27 pm

Tower of Hallucinations, Port HallucinationDon Alfonso de Almagro, brother of the La Platan dictator Diego and sore loser in a recent power struggle against the same, had been attached to the Osman Shahanshah's personal staff ever since the Jaris War, he had - on account of the much publicised raid on Philban Airfield - become something of a war hero and was feted in the Babkhan press. Unfortunately this made Ardashir somewhat jealous of his Minorcan protege, an envy that led him to place Alfonso on unrewarding assignments to lower his profile. This was another such example. God Port Hallucination was a strange place, ghastly beasts dragons, filthy smell, loathsome habits, and of course their propensity for breathing fire was regretable as well. Couldn't even, for all their flying and incendiary properties, make an impression on the battlefield, twenty shot out of the sky by slow firing Antican howitzers, hardly inspiring.So here Alfonso was, in the Tower that was Count Ozarka's seat of government to present his Master's terms 'Your Excellency, Count Ozarka, esteemed guests from Hyperborea, allow me to introduce myself - I am Don Alfonso de Almagro, Aide de Camp to His Imperial Majesty I have with me my credentials which I am happy to present.I also have the pleasure to present Captain William Lester of the Elwynnbrigaden and Sotvam Sayikum, Imperial Babkhan Army, attached to the Elwynnbrigaden. These gentlemen bear letters of authority from the Khan, His Imperial Majesty, the Osman Shahanshah by acclamation of the people, Shahanshah of the Kingdom of Babkha and all her Dominions and Protectorates, Lord of the Four Quarters, Khan of the Blue Horizon, Count of Lesser Zjandaria &etc'Alfonso had on the sheet in front of him the full list of Ardashir's titles, he doubted that the infamous Shirerithian attention span would hold up to him reciting them all. In spite of himself he mumbled 'skip to the end' just about loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. There were a few nervous chuckles around the room. People were on edge - depending on how the ethnic Babkhan population - the so-called Ardashirians - reacted. There could be civil war in Shireroth and ethnic conflict in Elwynn if Ardashir threatened violence against the elves.With a slight cough Alfonso resumed reading from his notes'His Imperial Majesty, via the office of the Amir of the Militia and Police, guarrantees the peace and security of any elfinshi who desires to settle in the County of Hallucination, provided that the areas of Elfinshi settlement are clearly defined and regulated...'There were audiable gasps around the room. It was sheer disbelief. Was the old devil really going to allow his blood enemies, the victims of his genocidal reign to return to Elwynn and the promise of peace and reconciliation? Only time would tell.

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Mon Nov 07, 2005 5:22 pm

Ozarka had to bite his tongue, and only too much time back in Kildare kept him from offering dangerous insult.I mean, who did this delegate think he was, coming in here, to the County led by Ozarka Monto, the most staunch anti-babkhan of them all, and lay before him a list of useless credentials most likely gained by drinking camels milk in the Babkhan-Equivalent of the Sahara?"Though his Imperial Majesty's credentials are impressive, and his praise most gladly received, it must be noted that his deeds in other countries, and his titles, however benevolent and powerful they may be, have as much weight and consequently influence, as the smallest of down feathers of the newest of baby chicks.This is Shireroth, not Babkha, and his foreign credentials will serve no purpose against me here.Although I am glad to hear the Ardashirsharans support the elfinshish move back to Elwynn, it must be noted that as long as I have Duke Andelarion's blessing, which I do, that the approval of an entirely different county is unnecessary.I am almost quite baffled as to why Ardashirshar insists the elfinshi be recorded with their homes, and special lands set aside for them be put into place.What you speak of borders rascism, segregation, discrimination, violation of many a civil rights law, and an over all hatred and dictatorian mood towards a race that has surpassed the Shirerithians and Babkhans alike in cunning.We most note, kindly though, that the approval of Ardashirshar is merely a formality, and that, though we are glad you approve, we will not succumb to segregation, or jurisdiction by one not above the authority of Andelarion or our lands, regardles of being the Elwynese Amir. If you will excuse us, I b elieve the Yardistani delegation has arrived, and I must speak to them on when the elfinshi can be relocated." Ozarka said with a slightly threatening tone, as he petted Babkha's head- which lay on the desk in front of him as be beckoned to the ajar door.

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Mon Nov 07, 2005 10:51 pm

Cerune had indeed arrived in the newly grown Phoenix Forest. She had travelled by helicopter to the mainland, where she was instructed to a motorcade. It had been a hard days travel, but she had managed to arrive on time. Or rather, what she assumed to be on time.She nervously fingered the door handle, on edge from her sudden withdrawal from the alcohol. She knew she had fallen in too deep now for sure, because she could feel the proverbial venom from the withdrawal as surely as a real poison. She glanced outside, and jumped suddenly. A human aid sitting across from her in the SUV turned his head to face her."Lady Russell, are you allright?" She sighed and grabed her face with her right hand and rubbed gently. "Yes... I... just thought of some terrible memories, that's all." The aid nodded slowly, and smiled lightly. "It's allright to ask for help, Lady Russell. I am here for your benefit." She sighed again. was it that obvious she had become a hopeless drunk? "Eh... thanks... really." She broke into a sheepish grin and looked down. "Really..."The SUV was specially designed for diplomats and noblemen who had to travel in dangerous areas. Reinforced bullet-proof glass in the windows, and steel plating everywhere. In front and back were military Humvees, and on either side were military motorcycles, provided by Brookshire's militia (but payed for by Yardistan). It was a nessecary precaution taken by the Angel Guardian to make sure no incidents happened while she was in Elywnn. They HAD just gotten out of a war, and he was worried any Yardistani militia might not be able to resist an easy target.After 2 days of travel (and a nice hotel stay) they finally arrived at Ozarka Monto's new tower. One of his servants opened the door for Cerune, and she stepped out with a smile. She thanked him and extended her hand to meet Ozarkas. "Many greetings to the new count of Port Illumination. May the gods smile upon your benevolent rule." Inwardly she scowled, and like all the other times she had to play diplomat, she hated it. She allways sounded so hollow to herself. "I apoligies for my tardiness; we were detained by a few... overzealous residents who wanted to make their presence known. Now How shall we proceed? Follow formality with a meal, or perhaps we should skip right to negotiations with the Ardashirians?" There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find.

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Tue Nov 08, 2005 5:45 pm

Ozarka smiled his hearty grin, noticing when he shook Lady Russell's hand that it was cold, clammy, as if she was either drunk or scared... he couldn't tell which, though he really didn't care."Lady Russell, do step in, I am most eager to begin talks on how best to transport the elfinshi back to their homeland.I am also afraid to inform you that the Ardashirsharans have left, though they have left with their blessing upon us."

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Thu Nov 17, 2005 9:11 am

Cerune shook her head. "You presume too much my good count. Who's to say the elves even wish to return? Elywnn was not their first home, you realize?" She began walking towards the conference room and allowed Ozarka time to reply. There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find.

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Thu Nov 17, 2005 1:36 pm

I hope you also realize, fair Lady Russel, that they would not have left Elwynn had it not been for Ardishirsharan hold over this great land, and that the thought of fleeing to Yardistan would have never even occured, except to perhaps some... 'eccentric' traveller elves. I also hope you realize that now that they have a refuge, one of their earlier forest home, free of Ardishirshar and it's rulers, corrupt they are, and that I have the full might of the Halluci and the blessing of Duke Andelarion and Duchess Vesteralan, that Port Illumination is probably the safest place that the Elfinshi shall come upon.However, I do offer an alternative option. I offer that the Counties of Port Illumination, and that of the County [insert Elfinshi home county name here] join into a Barony, so that both lands of the elves are thereby protected, and that both lands are thereby allowed for the elves to move freely, in a racially acceptant world.

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Fri Nov 18, 2005 6:49 am

Cerune inwardly shuddered at the thought of the elves coming back to Elywnn, but outwardly she showed no sign. She listened closely, and pondered. They reached the chamber, and cerune sat down and crossed her legs, still silent. After a minute of thinking, she finally spoke up. "We will open up our borders for the elves and allow them free access to wherever they would like to live, BUT DO NOT look at this as a blessing of your plans. We will be actively encouraging the elves to stay where they are, but no longer are they bound to the Holy lands. Is this agreeable?" There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find.

Sebastien Alexandre · Fri Nov 18, 2005 11:40 am

If you agree to not spread propaganda that moving to Elwynn is unwise, as I believe you will, and do not officially support nor oppose it, then agreed.

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Fri Nov 18, 2005 4:56 pm

We don't have a deal then. I told you from the beginning we will actively encourage them to stay where they are. That is the only way we will agree to the terms. There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find.

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Fri Nov 18, 2005 8:00 pm

What I do not want is false tales spread a bout my land.Yardistan is a dying land, Elwynn a new rebirth - telling them false tales will do either side any good.If you encourage them, can I have promise that you will not lie to them about Elwynn?>

Osman Shahanshah · Post by **Osman Shahanshah** » Sat Nov 19, 2005 8:23 am

(For fans of continuity this takes place a week after the meeting in the Tower at Port Hallucination)The Emirate Palace, Raspur, the Kingdom of BabkhaÂ“Well Alfonso, you were there. Does the idiot mean it?Â” Â“Yes my Shah I believe he is serious.Â” Alfonso de Almagro surveyed the scene that confronted him. The Osman Shahanshah in a black suit and neck-less white shirt, apparently the uniform of the Camel Revolution, was sitting at his desk slightly red faced and tipsy. With him was the beautiful raven-haired woman who had the vile air of death about her. Some silly northern hemisphere nameÂ… Victoria Rose, the Shirerithian traitor who had got into bed with Babkha and decided she liked it there. Grand Commonwealth heads of state aside there could not be too many people out there who could truthfully make a similar claim. Sitting on the edge of the ShahÂ’s varnished walnut panelled desk the pretty little angel of death was wearing a khaki military-style shirt dress with three quarter length sleeves and drop-waisted with ruching with a black leather belt that made the bottom quarter of the shirt into a kind of skirt, idly she sat kicking her exposed legs with shoeless feet out in the general direction of the Minorcan officer in a manner that he found faintly unsettling. The whole duration of the interview she looked as though she was stifling a peal of laughter. Indeed when Alfonso first entered ArdashirÂ’s study, a suitably palatial affair with a view of the city leading off towards the imposing and seemingly boundless Zjandarian steppe, the girl had been sitting on the divan gently mopping her lips with a napkin, and yet curiously while there was a couple of glasses an opened bottle of Zemlyan vodka on the KhanÂ’s desk there was no sign of any meal that had been eaten. For the sake of his sanity Alfonso resolved not to think any further on the subject.Â“Well sit down then Alfonso, and weÂ’ll discuss what the twit is playing at.Â” Ardashir directed Alfonso to sit down on a divan that was close by. The same divan it so happened that Victoria had been sitting at dabbing her lips earlier. Doing as he was bided, Alfonso fervently hoped that he would encounter no unexplained wet-patches. Mercifully there were none where he sat, though in fairness he was perched pretty much on the edge of the divan.Â“Vodka?Â” Ardashir said, more as an order than an offer. Alfonso tried to avoid drinking with Ardashir he remembered how unpredictable he could be; Sotvam Sayikum had mentioned the fate that had befallen the LycurgusÂ’ Michelin star chef after another of ArdyÂ’s binges.Â“Thank you, your Majesty, but I try not to drink when I am on duty.Â” In spite of his objections Alfonso could not help but notice that Victoria had stood up from the desk and was pouring the clear frosty liquid into what seemed like a half pint glassÂ… filling it to nearly half full as well. Santiago! they were not expecting him to drink that much surely? It was only 10 in the morning.Â“Well then. If you are on duty you have to obey an order from your superiors is that not correct?Â” Replied Ardashir, smiling wolfishly.Â“Yes, my Shah.Â”Ardashir leaned back in his chair, smiling still but this time with self-satisfied contentment. Â“Well take a fucking drink then.Â”Alfonso bowed to the inevitable and reached into his right hand trouser pocket to press the button on his pager that would alert his chauffer to expect the delay he had warned about earlier. Â“Yes my Shah.Â”Looking up from the floor where he had been staring Alfonso saw Victoria Rose saunter playfully across the study, glass in hand, towards where he was sitting on the divan. In spite of his conscious effort to retain his composure he was unable avoid squirming somewhat as the raven-hair torturerÂ’s approach.Extending out one slender hand she passed the glass to Alfonso. Â‘Drink this darling,Â’ she cooed, Â‘itÂ’ll relax you.Â’ Reluctantly Alfonso took the glass from her had, flinching as she brushed her fingers over the thumb of his left hand as he gripped the glass. Â‘Ooh, youÂ’re a shy one Â– I know a few things that could put youÂ… at ease.Â’Â“Rose!Â” Ardashir called across from his desk. Â“Leave the poor lad alone. Come here.Â”Melodramatically Victoria stomped her delicate looking bare foot upon the walnut varnished floor of the ShahÂ’s study. Â“Oh damn you I thought I was going to get to play.Â”Ardashir for once looked exasperated. Â“No, not now. Business first, you can play your games later.Â”Now Victoria was whining like a child, Â“Ooh but I want to play with him.Â”Â“For ZurvanÂ’s sake. What have I told you? You canÂ’t play with my officersÂ… IÂ’d never get them back in one piece.Â”Â“Oh, but I really want to.Â” Ardashir adopted a soothing voice in reply. Â“If youÂ’re that worked up why donÂ’t you go play with the concubines in the harem.Â” Victoria pouted, Â“ItÂ’s not the same.Â”Â“Nonsense, just use the needle like what I showed you before.Â”Â“Needle? Ha! IÂ’ll use the knife like what my mother used too.Â” With that Victoria drew a horn handled Stiletto from a holder on her belt that Alfonso had not previously noticed. With a deft flick of her wrist Victoria sprung a six-inch bayonet blade from the handle and stormed off out of the study. Â“For ZurvanÂ’s sake donÂ’t cut them. Those girls cost me a fortune!Â” Ardashir forlornly cried out after her. In the wake of his call however all that could be heard was a succession of slamming doors and finally a faint noise that sounded like a muffled scream.After an exasperated sigh Ardashir turned his chair, a plush red leather chair with gold leaf side handles, to face Alfonso.Â“Bless her,Â” he said, Â“a fine body, and a first rate mind, but she gets such curious passions. ItÂ’s best to let her get it out of her system when she gets like that.Â”Â“So I see.Â” A considerably relieved Alfonso tactfully concurred. Having a knife waved around by a mad woman a few feet from his face was enough to unnerve even a trained soldier. He needed that vodka after all and took a large gulp from the glass that he was now clasping in both hands.Â“Now to business. We know that Count Ozarka has made his offer in all sincerity. How serious are the Yardistanis?Â”Â“How serious were the Yardistanis is more the point your Majesty. Concurrent with all this has been a massive provincial reform in Shireroth as a whole, as you have read no doubt, the great duchies have been scattered and new entities based upon the feudal contracts between counties have arisen in their place.Â”Ardashir was nodding though clearly dumbfounded. He knew about the reforms, and had been pushing for ElwynnÂ’s consolidation, for the creation of baronies to support the Duke of ElwynnÂ’s rule and the power of his territory. However the thought that even the lowliest community might have a say in the nature and organisation of its overlords deeply unsettled him. Babkha had only recently had an anti-democratic revolution and he hated the thought of Shireroth going in the opposite direction at that same moment.Â“Yardistan has become a part of the so-called Holy Lands, culturally sensitive and historical territories, so on and so forth.Â” Alfonso continued.Â“HuhÂ” Ardashir interrupted Â“the number of times we bombarded that place you wouldnÂ’t think there would be much holy left down thereÂ…Â”Â“Indeed, my Shah, though that was Amity in particular. There are other places the barbarians consider holy.Â”Â“Please we are getting off topic Â– must be the amount of time we spend in Shireroth Â– lets get back to the issue in hand. Yardistan is now ruled as part of the Holy Lands, yes I know this. I know too that gnarled old man, the Â‘Angel GuardianÂ’ of theirs is still in charge. What is his game?Â”Â“The Yardistanis Â– who are over familiar with their anointed rulers Â– call him Aggy. The Angel Guardian appears to tolerate the rudeness with forbearance. It is said that he has a kindly natureÂ…Â”Â“Some ruler, meek and forgivingÂ” Ardashir scoffed. Alfonso paused and looked up from his glass of vodka to where the Shah was sitting. Ardashir motioned to him to continue.Â“He rules in the stead of Gman Russell, a mythical figure who was believed, after the gassing of the island of Amity at the instigation of yourselfÂ…Â” Ardashir was smiling at the memories this conjured up, the stolen flying island, the little puffs of yellow smoke forming into one huge towering cloud of mustard gas which inexorably swept across the Shirerithian island. The sickly yellow stain of death that tainted the island, such happy memories. As the Shah daydreamed Alfonso continued his narration. Â“The Angel Guardian has been regent to the heirs of the Russell dynasty, and to each generation he is something of a mentor and father figure. He is regarded as being both paternalistic and somewhat authoritarian. Nonetheless he is credited with being both wise and perceptive.Â”Ardashir airily waved his hand, Â“So he could probably guess what fate would befall any Elfinshi in transit to Port Illumination?Â”Â“More than likely, my Shah. This indicated by the choice of delegate. Cerune Russell, disgraced commander of the Russell Company, a Marine formation that suffered heavy casualties at the hands of the Fedayeen during the siege of Acre. She is a recovering alcoholicÂ…Â”Â“I trust that you are not implying that a love of drink is in someway a character flaw?Â” Ardashir, who was a famous sot, hotly interjected.Â“No not at all my ShahÂ” Alfonso coolly replied, Â“an alcoholic is a heavy drinker who believes he or she has a serious problem. You most certainly are no alcoholic.Â”Ardashir, who always prized sarcastic remarks and subtle insults disguised as compliment nodded. Â“Good answer. IÂ’d have given you to Victoria otherwise. Please continue.Â”Â“Â…She is a recovering alcoholic, and this together with the humiliation of defeat at Acre together with the symptoms of shellshock which afflict war veterans from lesser races makes her wholly unsuited to conduct sensitive and complex negotiations.Â”Â“Conclusion?Â”Â“She is merely a messenger. Sent to deliver the will of the Angel Guardian and then depart.Â”Â“So what could the message have been?Â”Â“Well your Majesty. If the Angel Guardian had agreed to the elves returning home that would have entailed the negotiating representative putting forward a comprehensive time table for repatriation and negotiating various protocols for administrative cooperation between the bureaucrats of Port Illumination and the Holy Land.Â”Â“And we have agreed that this Cerune is not up to that.Â”Â“Quite so, my Shah. On the other hand we cannot rule out the possibility that some repatriation will occur. The Angel Guardian cannot be seen to hold the population the Elfish population effectively under house arrest. If he were to do that we could play the pan-Elwynn card and demand the liberty of all those Elwynn born. So a compromise is more likely. He will not prevent the elves returning home but suspecting, as he most likely does, the fate that awaits them on the journey north he will strongly discourage them. The longing for home will draw at least some back to Elwynn. Maybe not as many as you might have hoped for my Shah.Â”Â“It matters not Alfonso old chap. If we catch at least a few it will serve our purpose. I will pass a Shark Watch order to the Western Banner Fleet. Stop and Search you understand. With the new technology provided by Istvanistan Â– we only need a few samples from which to generate the organic matter required. Alfonso you have done well so far. I will place you with the Western Banner Fleet and you shall direct the harvesting from Fort Indefatigable.Â”Â“Thank you my Shah.Â”

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Sat Nov 19, 2005 10:32 am

(Blast it Ardy, why do you have to make such good posts!)Cerune let out an exasperated sigh and stood up. "Look, I can't negotiate this. I've been given my orders on what to do, and that's it. We won't stop them from coming if that's exactly what they want, but by the gods you're BEING USED by Ardashir. Your inentions may be enlightened, but I can guarantee that any elves who migrate back up here will meet a terrible fate at his command. You HAVE to know this!"She let out an aggravated sigh, and promptly made her way to the door. As if it were a second thought, she turned around and spoke up. "We will continue negotiations tomorrow. Good day, count." And without letting him get a word in, she left the room. Her aid fell in step beside her, peering at a PDA, at Cerune, and at where they were walking all at the same time. "My lady, I take it things aren't going so well?" Cerune nodded and let out another sigh. "He's sincere in his idea that he can protect the elves, but theres no way he could save all of them, if any." Their car pulled around, and a butler opened the door for them. They slid in and began their drive back to their hotel.Her aid stared silently at her for a couple minutes, and Cerune knew something was on his mind that he didn't want to speak out loud. She would beat him to the comment. "John... what's on your mind? You know the Russell line has allways demanded honesty from it's workers." He looked down alittle, then back up at Cerune nervously. "Well... my lady... I... i'm wondering why Aggy sent you to handle such... delicate negotiations?" Cerune let out yet another sigh and peered out of the tinted window. It was all newly grown forests. Ozarka's earth mages knew what they were doing, that much was true. "John, that same thought hasn't left my mind since I was replaced back on Mirioth. I'm a mess..." She bit her lip and looked away from John, fighting back a few tears. John responded by handing a black hankerchief to her. "Don't worry about it, Lady Russell. If he sent you, i'm sure that means he has faith in you. Why else would he send you?" Cerune grabbed the piece of cloth and wiped her eyes, smearing her masscara alittle. She allways hated wearing makeup... "I don't know... maybe he sent me because he knew the negotiations would fail?" John shook his head. "No, that can't be it. An agreement HAS to be reached. The elves aren't our prisoners. Cerune nodded and noted that they were about to reach the hotel. "No... but they have to realize coming back here is a death trap. Ardashir has set his blackened eyes on their extinction, and he isn't one to shy away from his duty." John nodded, and as the door was opened by a hotel associate, he replied one more time. "Please, my lady, get some sleep tonight. We'll start tomorrow afresh." She nodded, and got out.She headed to the front desk, where a professional looking man with slicked back black hair greeted them. "Hello my lady, do you have any reservations with us tonight?" She nodded and put on a fake smile. About as fake as his. "Yes my good man. It would be under the name, 'Cerune Russell'. He typed a few things into his computer, and put on another smile. "Ah yes, Lady Russell of the HOLY lands. It's an honor to have nobility in our presence. We have the suite all prepared." Cerune nodded lightly. "Excellent. My aids will take care of the details and the payment." He nodded and excused himself to the back room. He returned with a plastic key card and handed it to her. "Suite 604 Mi'lady. A Royal Suite. I hope you find it to your liking. We offer 24 hour room service, and the key card also doubles as the key pass to the mini bar in your room." Cerune shook her head. "Oh, no need for that thing." He bowed lightly. "Of course, your nobleness. Have a fantastic night." She nodded lightly again and walked to the elevator alone. Most nobles had at least 2 or 3 attache's at all times, but she preferred to be alone when she could help it. She took the elevator to her room without incident, and with a deft swipe of the key card, she gained access to a magnificiently-decorated suite. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it. Her thoughts consisted of only one thought right then."Ah... the aids will fetch my belongings... I just need... a small drink to calm my nerves.Just... one..............." There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find. Edited by: AngelGuardian93 at: 11/19/05 10:33

Osman Shahanshah · Post by **Osman Shahanshah** » Sat Nov 19, 2005 6:46 pm

Sabatini had a rare knack: he could make a loyal ally of a stranger instantly, in return for a tip or even a smile. There was something about him Â–a half calculated clumsiness, his customary devoted spaniel expression, and his air of absent-minded helplessness, which was nothing of the sort Â– that won people over. It happened to all sorts of people, and it had happened to Manfred, the concierge of the Illumination Plaza Hotel, with whom Sabatini had had dealings for many a year. Oily as his slick and swept back jet-black hair Manfred radiated insincere charm but with Sabatini there was genuine friendship. Immigrants to Elwynn, Manfred from the Cibolenland, Sabatini from San Martin, the pair of them, they had the bond of foreigners in a strange land.Â“I need a favour, ManfredÂ”Â“Yes, sir.Â”He almost clicked his heels as he stood to attention. His impeccable burgundy jacket with gold keys on the lapels gave the young exile a military air a military air much to the taste of visiting Babkhans, of whom there had been a suspiciously large number visiting lately. It was unusual, when Babkhans came to the north of Elwynn it would invariably be to Vijayanagra or Glenfiddich. Still nothing could be proven and the DukeÂ’s edicts of toleration were in force.Â“A lady has booked a room here for the night. Russell Cerune, Amitian nobility, I want to know which room, and I want to know what she has been spending her money on.Â”Sabatini wrote her name down on a piece of card and passed it across the counter with a credit note for 500 Hatayyan gold dinars. Sabatini always gave bribes with a shrug of the shoulder as if to suggest Â‘maybe IÂ’ll do the same for you sometimeÂ’. It made it an amiable conspiratorial exchange. Altogether more agreeable mechanism for obtaining information that was used in other circles of society. Manfred took SabatiniÂ’s credit note without even a word and silently slipped it into his jacket pocket. A moment and then he started typing on the keyboard.Â“Yes, Sir she is in Suite 604, one of the royal suites. Aides have booked two twin rooms on the floor below if I recall correctly. Itemised bill, 220 erb, now lets see. Pay-per-view movie, phone calls to Amity, room service dinner for one...Â”Â“Mini-bar?Â” Sabatini interjected, a hopeful tone in his voice.Â“Mini barÂ… two Istvanistani beers, spirits, miniature bottles off course; vodka, gin, Treesian Red.Â”Â“Treesian Red? IsnÂ’t that illegal?Â”Â“Babkhan customers sir. It keeps them happy.Â”Â“So sheÂ’s hit the minibar then?Â”Â“Indeed, sir. In fact another 175 erb has just gone onto the bill. IÂ’d say she has just found the wine rack.Â”Â“Perfect. Manfred, youÂ’re a star.Â”Â“Thank you sir.Â”Walking away from the reception desk Sabatini went into the lounge bar. It seemed quite quiet. It was late, gone two in the morning and most sensible people were tucked up in bed. Yet Sabatini could smell his prey, and lo there he was a lone man sitting at the end of the bar nursing his third or fourth nightcap. He looked tired and dejected. He would be an easy kill.Â“Let me get you another.Â” Sabatini said as he sat down on a stool next to his target. He looked a little surprised but tiredly nodded that heÂ’d like the same again. Sabatini beckoned the barman to come across. The barman, a stout balding chap with a grey comb over came across, poured another glass of bourbon from the optic and placed it upon the counter. Sabatini paid the man and passed the drink across to his mark. The barman looked on indifferently. He had seen enough queers in his working life to spot a pick up scene when it was occurring. The barman however had misread the situation, however it did not bother Sabatini what other people thought of him accosting a stranger. The mission was all that mattered. Of course the barman didnÂ’t care either Â– as far as he was concerned Sabatini could lead off the drunken loner to whatever fate awaited him that way he could finally shut the bar and go get some sleep.Â“ItÂ’s John. IsnÂ’t it?Â” Sabatini enquired earnestly of his new acquaintance. John looked up startled, but perhaps not as startled, as he ought to be.Â“It isÂ… who wants to know?Â”Â“The names Jesus Sabatini, but for ChristÂ’s sake call me Sabatini.Â” Sabatini liked to inflict that pun on perfect strangers. They seldom appreciated it.Â“Uh-huh. And to what do I owe the pleasure?Â” Mumbled John.Â“View from Benicia,Â” Sabatini lied smoothly, Â“running a story on the summit.Â”Â“Oh so you found out about it did you? Suppose you want the inside track. ItÂ’d have to be off the record mind you.Â”Â“Off the recordÂ’s no problem with me.Â”John groaned inwardly. Â“Best fire away then.Â”Sabatini began his first approach.Â“They say things arenÂ’t going so well up in the Tower. Any progress?Â”Â“There are certain irreconcilable differences of opinion that are making it all rather unlikely.Â”Â“And the personalities?Â”Â“Lets say the personalities arenÂ’t helping matters.Â”This was SabatiniÂ’s cue. He moved in for the kill ruthlessly, knowing now was the time to recruit another potential follower to the cause of the Descendi.Â“So, whatÂ’s your opinion on your boss, Lady Russell?Â”In John now the drink was talking, giving vent to his studiously oppressed feelings.Â“Mister, IÂ’ll tell you what I think of Cerune. Wrong person at the wrong time for the wrong damn mission. And whatÂ’s worse if we get this wrong thousands could fucking die.Â”Sabatini nodded sympathetically.Â“Perhaps there is something you can do about it if you were introduced to the right people.Â”

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Mon Nov 21, 2005 9:04 pm

"...""Ughhhhhh....""What... time... is it...?"Cerune groggily and painfully opened her eyes and peered at the white ceiling."Easy... easy does it......"She grunted and turned her head to the side to see exactly where she was. She was on the floor... and next to her was a smooth white wall. It was too smooth to be a wall... too white to be a wall- no... no it wasn't a wall. She saw tile. She was in the bathroom."Just one... huh... Cerune.......... you idiot. I promised Aggy."All her strength was gone. It must have been that Treesian Red. She'd never had such a powerfull drink before. Ever. She was guilt-ridden for being an alcoholic in the first place, but she felt another piece of her heart die when she tried her first Red. She hadn't been so drunk at that point, so she remembered it fairly perfectly. It had a funny taste to it. Instantly as it went down, she had felt warm and fuzzy. She took a second swig, than a third... and that's when her memory went blank. She knew instantly she had a new addiction. Nothing else got her so wasted so fast. It was her drug. With her, she never felt the addiction come back immediately. It allways took a few hours for the twinge to hit her, but not this time. She wanted to get up and drink more right now. She was disgraced.She lifted her left arm slowly and grabbed the ledge of the bath and attempted to lift herself. She felt something slick on it and lost her grip. She fell back down with what seemed to her a thunderous clap. For many minutes she closed her eyes and suffered under a terrible migraine. It finally subsided, and she opened her eyes again, still whimpering patheticly. she lifted her left arm to peer at her hand and what she had slipped on. It was red.... oh no, it was blood. Weakly, she pulled herself up with what little strength she had into a sitting position on the other side that wasn't covered in fluids. She stared meekly at it, and wondered what exactly was in it. Blood, puke, probably some alcohol too. She lifted her right hand to her matted hair and wasn't as suprised to find more blood in her hair."Oh Cerune... what have you done to yourself...?"She looked down at her clothes, and saw it looked an awfull lot like the dirty bathtub. She had no idea what time it was. She was proly late again. John must've been having kittens by now. Why hadn't they checked up on her yet? Surely ONE of the aides would have seen the mess she was in and called for an ambulence. She slowly got on her knees, than pushed herself onto just one, then with excrusiating pain, stood up straight. She got so dizzy she allmost fell over again. She placed a hand on the wall to steady herself and slowly stumbled out of the bathtub.It was a mess. Towels and hair care products were strewn about everywhere. Where was the mirror...? The mirror was shattered! Pieces were lying on the counter and the floor. In the sink she saw a broken traveling alarm clock, no doubt used to break the mirror. She thought this was bad, but as she opened the cracked door to the suite, she found that it had been COMPLETELY trashed. The sliding door to the balcony had been smashed, the mattress had been overturned and the frame was in pieces. The TV was on the floor, shards of glass strewn about it as well. The dresser had been pushed over, and her suitcases had been trashed and thrown about everywhere.She gasped loudly, and sobbed."I didn't do this... No I couldn't have... No I-""YES, we did do that. I'm rather proud of the work personally."Cerune yelped and turned around rapidly, looking for the source of the voice. She let go of the door frame in her confusion and fell back down to the floor. "Who.. who are you?! Where are you?!?" The mysterious voice spoke up again. "I am everywhere, and yet no where. I am your left and right, your right and wrong. Crawl over to the shards of the mirror and you will see who I am!" Cerune hesitantly crawled over to the torn mirror and looked into the shards. She only saw her reflection. Dozens of shattered reflections peering back at her. Matted, dirty hair, blood smeered on her hands and face, soiled clothing that wasn't fit now for a begger. Suddenly, her reflections began to move independently of Cerune. It stood up and pointed it's finger at her."I. AM. YOU!"Cerune screamed and grabbed her head in crazed fear. It was happening all over again. The voices... the voices she had supressed with Aggy's help so long ago when she was a small child. She started chanting. "You aren't real... you're the curse I hold trying to turn me over to the darkened side! I won't listen to you!" The figure in the shards laughed snidely. "You woke me up Cerune. I was laying dormant for YEARS in your sub-concious thanks to that do-gooder Guardian of yours, but with my last thought I told you I would return when you returned to the curse, and now... HERE I AM!" Cerune sobbed uncontrolably, and through clenched teeth tried her best to ignore the phantom. "I won't... I won't listen to you... you aren't natural... All I have to do is go to Aggy and he'll-" It interupted again. "He'll WHAT? Heal your mind again like last time? And what would he think huh?!" The phantom smirked sickly. "You're allready on bad terms with him. You did such a bad job he had to take away BAM from you! And if you think he has time to help a whiny brat like you, than think again sister! He has his hands full and then some and both you and I know it. If you go back to him and tell the truth, he'll lock you away like your mother!" Cerune screamed. "DON'T YOU MENTION HER! HE... he had too... she was-""Dangerous?""..."The ghost spoke up again. "Just listen to me, and I guarantee we'll be allright. I won't hurt you... after all, I AM you. If I destroyed you i'd destroy myself." Cerune growled. "Go... AWAY!" The phantom laughed maniacly. "As you wish my other half, you have company coming anyway and they can't know your crazy just yet. Knock knock Cerune." No sooner had it spoken those words than came a knock at the door. She heard John's voice speak up. "Lady Cerune... Lady please wake up, we're FIVE hours late for the conference! FIVE!" Cerune cursed and looked at the sky through the shattered window. Judging from the position, it was somewhere around two PM. She cleared her throat and spoke up. She couldn't let him see her like this. No one could."John... i'm... sorry... I... uh, someone... attacked me... I think! Get the police! Please hurry, I can't move!"It was a lie, and a poor one, but with any luck she could pull it off. She heard him utter a cry and head for the front office."Cerune... what have you gotten yourself into..." There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find.

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:23 pm

Ozarka fell into the doorway beyond John. His normally blue eyes lost their neon glow as his pupils turned a deep blood red, before he bellowed 'What the hell have you done to this suite? Have you any idea what personal funds I put into this one of two hotels in all of Halluci?!'. His fury subsided though it seems, when he saw the Lady Russell trembling in fear not five feet away.Get out of my way," he snarled, hurling John against the wall as he made it seems to attack Ozarka; vines sprouted from the plaster to bind John to the wall he was now slumped against.He picked up Lady Russel, and rushed down the street the Temple doors. The healers of Halluci were housed in a giant underground dwelling, whose only entrance was a sliding gate made of two large .5 ton slates of granite. He gently placed Lady Russel on the ground, where she lay sobbing, and with all his energy pushed aside one granite slab to slip under, though not without price.As soon as he was through his eyes lost their glow, the pupils turned white, and after a Healer had taken Lady Russel, he too was taken for medical attention - for one should not use such magic so quickly.

Osman Shahanshah · Post by **Osman Shahanshah** » Sun Dec 18, 2005 5:19 pm

Count's Palace, Ardashirshahr, Lesser ZjandariaThis was hurting the Shah's head."Repeat that slowly. You're not making any sense. If you don't stop gabbling I'll have you gelded. You wouldn't be the first... Victoria, do you have that scalpel?"The raven haired sadist was lounging indolently on the divan in the uniform of a Lieutenant-Colonel of the Elwynnbrigaden, tailored so as to follow the curves of her exquisit and decitful form. "Why of course darling. I never leave home without one."With anyone other than Victoria that would have been a sarcastic joke. However she reached across to her designer handbag, House of Khan of course, and duly produced a blade which glinted in the light. John, the hapless former advisor to the missing Cerune Russell, whinced involuntarily. His gut instinct being of course to flee the scene however the shackles around his wrists and ankles and the two burly fedayeen guards who flanked him meditated against flight. Instead he felt the faintness come on again and swayed uncertainly on his feet.Laying on the divan, toying with the surgeons knife, Victoria looked across at the quivering uncertain little man flanked by two powerful guards. "But darling, do we have to? We played nice games."Ardashir rolled his eyes and smiled wolfishly. "Victoria, when you say nice games... it is my experience that you are usually the only one to derive any enjoyment."Victoria arched her back and stretched languidly on the divan. "Oh no darlin, he enjoyed it, he's a very naughty boy."At that point Ardashir, Shah of Babkha and now Steward of Elwynn, stood up and walked round from behind his desk. "Well, John" he said addressing the dishrevelled prisoner, "you should realise what we do to naughty boys..."John, his spirit broken long before this point, fell down to his knees and let out an involuntary wail."Please my Lord. I swear it is the truth."Ardashir walked over to Victoria and took the scalpel from her slender white hands. With a feigned pout of irritation to the Steward she handed over the knife. However John could not help but notice that as Ardashir turned away from her and walked towards him her eyes were gleefully fixed upon him in anticipation of a certain carnage.Ardashir smiled grimly. "John - up in Port Illumination I have four corpses and a ruined underground temple - more importantly I have a member of the Shirerithian nobility missing. Missing on my watch, at a time when Elwynn is being watched quite intensely by certain forces not so far down river. That Kaiseress herselfhas been on to me... ON TO ME! I am her equal in blood and yet she still talks down to me like a subordinate. 'Where is Cerune blah blah blah... Aggy called again yesterday... I don't like being disturbed from my omelletes...' WHAT KINDA FUCKING NAME IS AGGY? WHAT THE FUCK IS AN 'OMULLETTE'? There are wars left right and centre that could break out at any moment and I have to find some silly bint who managed to have a personal crisis while on state business. Now no-one can find her. So John you need to understand that I need some reliable information from you... otherwise the family name is going to die with your manhood."(OCC: God that was awful, but back to you Greg)

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Sun Dec 18, 2005 6:17 pm

Ozarka awoke with a groan, inside one of the rooms that had been carved out of the trunks of the huge tree's that were now growing above. He had to hand it to them, his mages were far exceeding his expectations - and his expectations had been exceedingly high to begin with.He pulled back the sheets and fumbled out of bed, slipping on his shoes and making towards the small tub of flowing water, about 3 feet above the ground, nestled into the trunk, and carved out of some curved roots and a small stone.He washed his face and messed with his hair for a second before deciding that he atleast looked as if he wasn't utterly and completely exhausted. He locked his door and proceded to change into his usual attire of deep blue robes with white trim, and into his leather-made shoes. He grabbed his twisted-oak staff that was lying against the wall, the one that had a shimmering blue shard of diamond embedded in it, and made his way for the door.He marveled at the niftiness of which his artisans, architects, and mages had worked together to create the doors. The doors were made of living vines that had been magically woven together until they formed an ugly yet solid weave of the vines. He sighed... great... more magic to use when he was already drained. He pushed back the vines, resealing them as he turned out of the room.He made his way down the earthy, claustrophobic unfriendly tunnels until he reached Lady Russel's current room.He sighed.... and began unweaving the vine door.......

Sebastien Alexandre · Post by **Sebastien Alexandre** » Sun Dec 18, 2005 7:05 pm

He finished resealing the door as he entered. He sat down on a stool in the corner and waited. Lady Russell was still hazy from the what seemed to have been something of Treesian make, (damn them.. make all who drink their bloody drinks drunker than hell). Her appearance, at least had been cleaned up - compliments of the Envisionistic Halluci nurse's loving care and kindness. She was now adorned in a robe of excellent making, which Ozarka had found in his late mother's closet about two months ago. He decided not to tell her that she was wearing a dead woman's clothing. The robe it seemed hid most of her drunkeness, for it was hard to notice she was in a hang over when she was in such a marvelous robe. With gold trimmed edges and gemstone buttons, it truly was just about the best that the Envisionists could afford - even Ozarka had to admit that it would've come at a painful price to his treasury in these times. They had never truly recovered from their sudden move, and only now were all the humans being fed - he regretted to think it, but it seems he had paid more attention to bringing back his half-brethren then he had been about the ones he had been raised with.He waited until it seemed the Lady was ready, before asking politely."As you can see, Lady Russell, you are currently in the care of the Port Illumination hospice. As I am sure you can tell, as well, that John is no where insight and neither are the Babkhans that apparently werent as friendly and playful as they appeared" asserted Oz, with a slight hint of pity for the Lady, malice for the Babkhans, and a swooping gaze of distaste at the wreck the Babkhans had made this woman."Also, I think it will ease your mind to know that your liege back in the Holy Lands has been due informed of these happenings, and that you are welcome to return whenever you so please, though you are certainly welcome to stay as long as you like. I will leave you now, but heed this warning - do not go anywhere without two of my guards. Though it may seem awkward, Andelarion was a fool to leave Ardashir in charge while he visited some unknown region to the north. Times are not safe, not even within Elwynn - and Ardashir is truly Elwynese.. to a point.You are welcome to stay here in a less gloomy room, as this is by far much safer than above ground. Edited by: Osman Shahanshah at: 12/19/05 8:59

Osman Shahanshah · Post by **Osman Shahanshah** » Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:35 am

Eliriashahr, Eliria & Utasia, ElwynnSabatini, an Evocatii, or readmitted devotee of the Port Illumination Contubernium of the Descendi, pushed his way through the colourful and noisy streets of Eliriashahr, the nominal capital of the Duchy of Elwynn. A profusion of shops crowded the streets and public squares of ElireÃ¥, as the Duke decreed it known. There were the bakers, butchers, poultry sellers, fishmongers, tavern keepers, barbers, booksellers, perfume merchants, furniture sellers, blacksmiths, shoemakers and countless others. Some premises were prosperous, but most were no more than cramped and ill-lit shacks, leaning against peopleÂ’s homes and spilling out into narrow alleys and large covered markets alike. There was so much hustle and bustle in this city, like so many other cities in Elwynn that benefited from the Â‘economicÂ’ miracle brought on by the rule of Duke Andelarion and the valiant actions of Ardashir and the Elwynnbrigaden. If only they knew that a noose had already been placed around their neck they would weep and wail like children. Still Sabatini did not care especially; the glorious day was closer to completion than any of the Descendi had ever hitherto dared to dream. Lady Russell, drained broken, hidden away for her own safety would be flushed out from her hole in Port Illumination eventually and not even the irritant Count Ozarka could delay that forever. Not even Sabatini understood it fully but as an Evocatii of the Ninth Grade he knew enough. The corruption of the House of Russell would be but one more turn on the great wheel that would open the gates for the legions of Balgurd to come marching forth onto the lands of Micras, and that would be a day of power and triumph for all Descendi, both living and dead, the day the race of gods and men and bowed to the single triumphant and conquering will of the DÃ¦mons who promise to reward their faithful followers most handsomely.The streets were crowded with strolling vendors, hustlers, prostitutes, pimps and, off course, hapless consumers on whose wallets they feasted greedily. It was with great satisfaction that Sabatini used not an inconsiderable force to barge his way through the teeming multitude Â– his famous charm was best reserved for those who warranted its attentions being lavished upon them. The pleb in the street deserved nothing better than a fist to the face of a hobnailed boot to the balls. Scum, the uninitiated, the powerless, the clueless, should know their place.For Sabatini had come from Port Illumination to meet with his master, Xenophanes, who was an adept of the Tenth Grade and Prime Ordini of the Elwynn Centuria of the Descendi, he was the highest representative of that faith in the Duchy.From the bustling thoroughfares Sabatini turned down one of the narrow side alleys that permeated the city like cancer. The alley became progressively narrower and darker, and the stench of sewage and decomposition filled his nostrils. ElireÃ¥, so beautiful to the outsider, had at its core an undercurrent that was sick and fetid. The Descendi thrived in these conditions. The neglected and poor, the gullible and hapless plebeians who Sabatini so merrily elbowed aside in the busy streets, made the most enthusiastic converts Â– not that they understood their new faith for they had been lured in by a catechism of truth and beauty and love and bread. They would sing their prayers, do their good deeds in the community, pay their tithes and run errands for the hidden elite of the Centuria. As he carried on down along the dark alleyway he kept his eyes open for the graffito that marked obscured entrance to the Centuria meeting house. At last he saw it Â– an obscene depiction of a turbaned Babkhan standing on a stool whilst engaged coitus with a camel. The entrance consisted of a small black door, say no larger than 5ft, and which lacked a handle. The wall of the building the door was set into was grimy and crumbling, faded posters and newspapers were plastered over the single ground floor window. Across the way, opposite the Centuria house was the entrance to a seedy underground nightclub and right by where Sabatini was standing the stench of piss and vomit was overpowering. Obviously this was a popular spot for revellers to offload the by-products of their indulgent excess after a good night out.Sabatini pulled his trenchcoat tight around himself as he felt the first flurry of a new snowfall, the winds had changed, bringing Zemlyan temperatures to Eliria Â– he wondered what effect it would have on cancer rates. The curse of Soviet nuclear testing lies heavily upon the northern hemisphere. What need have man to fear hell when he lives amid the destruction he himself has wrought?Thrice then Sabatini knocked upon the short black door. Then finally he was admitted into the darkness that awaited him on the other side.

Osman Shahanshah · Post by **Osman Shahanshah** » Mon Dec 26, 2005 6:08 pm

Yasmaq Nightclub, Eliriashahr, Eliria & Utasia, ElwynnAs Sabatini, stepped through the anonymous black door into the Descendii meeting house, the peep hole in the door to the nightclub opposite flicked back acrossed into the closed position.Inside Victoria Rose, dressed in a black leather coat that came down to her knees, grey jodhpurs, and knee high jackboots, turned to face the Lieutenant of the Eliriaregemente who had accompanied her on their stake out of the suspect building opposite."Well, 'hun', seems to me like your little old informant wasn't just pissing in the wind with his little tip off."The Lieutenant, a grey haired old plain-clothes officer from the Political Cell of the regiment dressed shabilly in grey trousers, a yellow shirt and a green jacket, ex-militia issue, whose elbows were worn through, grunted."As soon as I mentioned the name of the guy you were trailing he began singing like a canary... for a price of course. Say's this Sabatini is a bit of a ladies man, not to mention a suspected murderer, a liar, a thief...""Ooh, stop it love," replied Victoria, a wicked grin upon her face, "you're making me feel all warm inside.""Whatever floats your boat, ma'am."Victoria merely smiled slyly at the Lieutenant, as she pulled her stilleto blade out from inside her jacket and began toying with it, removing a piece of imaginary dirt from between her finger nails. "Why, you're a bold one aren't you? You know what I could have done to you for talking to me like that? Do you know what I could do to you myself? What makes you think that you are so special or safe? Do you think you are too good for me not to rip your insolent tongue out?"The Lieutenant shrugged his shoulders, put his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned back against the grimey wall of the entrance corridor to the nightclub."Becuse I've seen your type before, through out my career, a thousand freaks and psycopaths who belonged in jail or under the guillotine left to roam free because they were in Ardashir's employ. I've also seen death before, tasted it, been the cause of it. You see I was a deputy in the old militia the last time Khan was in charge, back during the 'round up', that's what we used to call it - when we would take all the elvish prisoners out to the clay pits near the edge of the great forest, before the wild fires took hold and made the round ups impracticable, unnecessary even. Anyway, we'd make them undress at the edge of the pit, no point wasting good clothes, also made it even more of an impossibility for them to hide if they made it into populated areas - they were a devil to catch if they ran - so there they were shamed humiliated and cold and we would make them go down into the pits, a machine gunner covering them every step of the way, just in case they made one last desperate bid for freedom, but truth be told they were resigned to their fate by this stage. If they had fought they could have delayed the inevitable by months, certainly long enough for there to be liberated zones still in Elvish control by the time Locke and his Paladins arrived to depose Ardashir and end the genocide. But they didn't, they either ran or they surrendered... meekly."Victoria moaned, in a way that suggested she was enjoying the harrowing tale in a way that perhaps a lady or any sane human being shouldn't. The Lieutenant, not caring if he died or not at her hands, continued - perhaps relieved to get it off his chest."So they were lead down into the pits naked - by Alejia they were beautiful - the girls could have been as old as I am now but not look a day over 21. Supple, yet they had a fragility about them, dare I say even an elfin quality? Oh I bet half the lads there wished we could have kept a few for their own uses - but orders were orders - and the pointy ears, no way we could pass them off as human down at the markets. So they carried on down. At the bottom of the pit, we had dug a trench, 10ft deep, 10 ft wide, 50ft lengthways if I recall correctly. I remember how as we lined them up by the mound of earth that would cover over the trench the parents would be talking to the little elf children, pointing to the stars and whispering softly in their strange melodic tongue, and the children, even though they were crying would nod as though they understood. It was strange how calm the adult elves were. Whenever we executed humans, you could expect the full range of human emotions, anger, defiance, dignity, terror, hysteria, pleading, but these elves were so damned calm, resigned perhaps, but with some it was as though death was immaterial to them, a matter of shedding ones skin. It was damned uncanny and that made us just want to kill them all the more quickly. So we would call them round in batches of ten. Made them clamber down into the trench and forced them lie down in the dirt or on top of the previous batch that had been executed. Then on a command from our Babkhan officer we would open fire with our rifles. For most that would do the trick. There was always some however with every batch who would survive,terribly wounded, and stupidly they'd try to wriggle their way out from under the pile of corpses, so our Babkhan officer, skin as black as sin, the bastard, would take his pistol and shoot every wriggler two times in the head. 'Just to be certain.' That day we killed about a hundred. All from the same village up near Caligae so I am told. Not long after I applied for a transfer to criminal investigations, ironic I know, it was a good choice - the paladins arrived not long afterwards and it wasn't the best time to be in a death squad. A year later, what should cross my desk but the dossier on the killings at the clay pits. It listed the names of everyone involved, victims and perpetrators. Naturally it found its way into the shredder, file marked as misplaced in the register, another glitch in the system."Victoria coughed huskily, "You finished?"The Lieutenant sighed. "Yes, I'm finished.""Wow, that was, amazing, if you weren't wearing that ghastly shirt I'd have you here and now. Perhaps you can consider yourself fortunate. There is only one group of people who I never play my rough games with, and those are men and women like yourself from the old days - the dark twilight struggle. If but one achievement of our race lasts down the ages let it be the erradication of those vile creatures - who were they to lord it over us? Menelmacar, the arrogant, the great, who were they to deny that the planet belonged to us - the humans? Tell me. Are you ashamed of what you did to those elves?""Yes, they were innocent. The elves were insufferably smug I grant you, very patronising, but they had done no harm to us. Certainly not to the degree that would merit our treatment of them.""You forget though how many nations of men they devoured without mercy during their glory days. To be sure without Menelmacar they were meek and mild, but were the circumstances ever to come right again for them their boot would be across our throat for at least a millennia.""Perhaps," sighed the Lieutenant "perhaps. But what we have to concern ourselves with is the present and that entails our friend over the road.""Quite so replied Victoria. Our your men placed Lieutenant?The Lieutenant unholstered his 9mm pistol and chambered a round."You and me here, ma'am. A detachment of rustÃ¢yisarbÃ¢zi at both ends of the alley, and the Regimental Warrant Officer arriving shortly with two of his goons to make the arrests.""Are you sure that three men will be enough?""Most certainly ma'am. What possible resistance could a bunch of loonies dabbling in the occult put up?"

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Tue Dec 27, 2005 1:07 am

Port Illumination hospice roomCerune woke up with a small moan. She had no idea what time it was, or for that matter, what day it was. She opened her eyes, and reached out to touch her forhead gently. As she lifted her hand off of her forhead, she gasped at what she thought was blood all over her hand. She blinked and winced, but as she looked back at her hand, it was clean. Suddenly, she heard a whisper as she put her hand back to her side."Not alone my love..."She gasped and sat up. She was in a small room. She also noticed she was wearing a rather nice robe. She swam in it, such was it's size on her, but it looked way too expensive to be a normal hospital robe. She looked around, and in a corner sat Ozarka Monto, the count in which she was formally engaged in negotiations. He spokeQuote:"As you can see, Lady Russell, you are currently in the care of the Port Illumination hospice. As I am sure you can tell, as well, that John is no where insight and neither are the Babkhans that apparently werent as friendly and playful as they appeared" asserted Oz, with a slight hint of pity for the Lady, malice for the Babkhans, and a swooping gaze of distaste at the wreck the Babkhans had made this woman."Also, I think it will ease your mind to know that your liege back in the Holy Lands has been due informed of these happenings, and that you are welcome to return whenever you so please, though you are certainly welcome to stay as long as you like. I will leave you now, but heed this warning - do not go anywhere without two of my guards. Though it may seem awkward, Andelarion was a fool to leave Ardashir in charge while he visited some unknown region to the north. Times are not safe, not even within Elwynn - and Ardashir is truly Elwynese.. to a point.You are welcome to stay here in a less gloomy room, as this is by far much safer than above ground. She nodded, but kept herself silent as he spoke. She also watched him leave for the time being in silence. She wasn't sure Why Oz was being so nice to her, especially after the state of the room and how pissed he seemed to have been when he saw her in the room. Why WAS Oz there at the hotel? Granted she was extremely late, but for him to travel to the hotel she was staying in was... well, odd. She heard another voice. This time it was more than a whisper, and she knew it this time."Stand up, head to the window. We gotta talk, you and I. MUCH work to be done and all that."She took off the blanket she was under, and stood up slowly. She made her way to the ajoining bathroom and turned on the light switch. Sure enough, peering back in the mirror was her other half. Dressed in black pants, a black long sleeved shirt, her gothic appearance was in stark contrast to the natural-looking Cerune that stood in the expensive robe. It looked annoyed and put it's hands on her hips. "It's about time you regained conciousness. I've been waiting VERY patiently." Cerrune extended her hands to lean on the sink. "I... don't... want you... go away." It laughed and turned around, facing away from Cerune. "I can't go away any more than you could get rid of a shadow when standing in the light. An extremely appropriate answer, don't you think my love?" Cerune sneered. "You aren't my love, and you aren't me daemon." It turned around again and wagged it's finger at her. "You say that because you cannot accept that which you did when your mother went crazy." Cerune clenched her teeth. "Don't you DARE mention her... or that..." It laughed snidely and put it's hands back on it's hips. "You summoned me from Balgurd to help you make it through such a terrible tragedy, you asked me to teach you everything I knew, and YOU PERFORMED THE BONDAGE CEREMONY!" Cerune cried out a small yelp and some tears formed. "I didn't summon you! You came looking for me after my mother's death because you knew I was vulnerable! Aggy had his hands full with Gman and Dad had gone back to leading the Descendi cult back on Mirioth. You swept in and lulled me into that ceremony. I would trade 1000 positive lifetimes to be rid of you!"It shook its head and frowned lightly. "Cerune... have I EVER steered you wrong? I have only ever looked out for you. It's true. You know it is because looking out for you is now looking out for me. Just listen to my instructions, and you'll never have to go back and face Aggy's wrath. You can dissapear and never worry about all the nobles who laugh at you behind your back. Never worry about being hated or fear, or mistrusted for the curse you carry. Follow my lead, and you'll never feel alone again... and in the end, isn't that all you've ever wanted?" Cerune clenched her teeth again and looked downward. She spoke softly. "You... promise...?""Cross my cursed little heart my love.""What do you want me to do?""Leave this rotting hole in the ground. Send word to one of the servants that you want new clothes. This fancy robe is too traceable. It's too... glinty. Then, once that's done. We can arrange for a limosine back to the airport." Cerune arched her eyebrows. "I thought we wouldn't have to go back to Mirioth?" It laughed. "No, we aren't going back. The car is going to have a terrible crash along the way. You will be presumed dead." Cerune was curious now. "Where are we going...?" It leaned forward on the mirrored sink."We head to Sabatini." There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find.

AngelGuardian93 · Post by **AngelGuardian93** » Thu Dec 29, 2005 10:52 am

Outskirts of Port IlluminationOne and a half hours laterShe had sent one of servants to fetch some of her clean clothes from the hotel a little less then an hour ago. She was now dressed in black pants, a white shirt with the Russell family crest on the back, and the traditional black cloak that was worn by each generation of the family. It only came down to a person's mid-thigh, and it had no hood, but it was the fashion in Mirioth at the time of the Russell Family's infamous (but little known these days) defection from the Pinky Family on the Flying Islands, and somehow it had just stuck as traditional noble-wear in that part of the world.She sat in the back seat of the limo, and inside her head she bantered back and forth with the deamon. "When will we have our accident..?" It replied sweetly, belying the terrible accident that was about to occur. "As we pass that ridge, a deamon fish will come out of nowhere and steal the his soul. His freshly uninhabited corpse will cause this limo to fall off that cliff. Terrible tragedy. I'm sure we'll make the evening news." Cerune furrowed her eyebrows. "Won't they notice our corpse isnt in there, and how will we actually escape?" It laughed. "The drop off at this area is around 218 feet. They'll be lucky to find ANYTHING. And as to how we'll escape? As it falls, we'll jump out, and A second fish will be standing ready to pick us up back on the road." Cerune shook her head at the percieved voice. "The Deamon Fish are immaterial on our world, it would just pass through me and steal my soul!" It shook it's head in return. "Remeber, you and I are bonded. It can't steal a fellow daemon's soul, since we're both working on the same planal level. Follow me?" Cerune shook her head and shrugged. "Not really, but I trust you." It smiled, or rather, Cerune got the notion in her head that it smiled. "Excellent, My love. Now steady yourself. We're about to reach the bend."The unsuspecting driver was turning around the bend when out of nowhere a Fish of Balgurd appeared. He screamed in primal fear and swerved towards the outside of the turn to try and escape it, but it was too late, he was going too fast to avoid contact. The engine passed through the fish like it would a ghost, and as it got to the driver, it passed through his screaming body, and as it did, the two spirit energies clashed, and pulled out the man's energy, effectively killing the body. The corpse slumped and the car crashed through the metallic barier and fell into a spectactual free fall. Cerune clenched her teeth and despite the forces working against her, opened the left door and managed to push herself free of the car. As the deamon promised, a second fish appeared and promptly broke Cerune's fall. After a few moments of awkward, clumsy shifting, she sat upright on the fish and marvled that her body didn't fall through it like the poor man's body did. She heard her other half speak up. "I told you love, I don't lie to you. Now, we travel to Eliria." Cerune gasped. "You mean, on the back of this fish?" It laughed. "Yes, you have more allies than you realize my love." Cerune nodded silently, and the fish started towards the city.EliriaTwo hours later.Two hours later, as they approached the outskirts of the city, Cerune found herself being woken up from a nap she hadn't even realized she had fallen into. "Wake up. We must walk from here. The fish can carry us no longer without raising suspicion. Too many people in the cities, it makes him nervous." Cerune nodded as the fish set her down on the ground by passing through it. She stood up and stretched, yawned, and began walking. "How will I know where to go?" Cerune suddenly got the notion of which way to go, as if her other half had mentally pointed. "That way."Cerune nodded. "Right... that way." And she began walking. There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find.

Osman Shahanshah · Post by **Osman Shahanshah** » Thu Dec 29, 2005 6:12 pm

The second day had gone slowly for Victoria Rose as she awaited the opportunity for some sport. Both she and the team of officers and men from the Eliriaregemente had been all set to storm the building opposite when a panicked order had been scrambled down the line. Â‘Seal the area. Hold position. Await reinforcements.Â’ Â‘God damn it!Â’ She had thought. Everyone had been assuring her that all she was facing was one man, and maybe a few drugged up religious crazies. Now everyone was timid and cautious like they were planning an assault on the gates of hell itself. Reluctantly she stood her arrest team down. Surely this would blow the element of surprise. The intended victims must surely be aware of their plight and have made some preparation, if not to escape, then at least to defend their little shithole. In that narrow confined alleyway with tall buildings on either side there was the perfect kill zone to mow down any luckless person trying to break down the front door. With surprise gone this is why numbers were so important. The assault would probably be a blood bath. Throughout that night a constant stream of tanks, infantry fighting vehicles, armoured cars, hummers and trucks had brought the entire 1st Battalion of the Eliriaregemente down to the single city block. The plain clothes officers and Â‘politicalsÂ’ has been reinforced by the military might of the Elwynnese state. Soldiers complete with Automatikgewehr rifles, Stahlhelm helmets, black trousers jackboots, khaki field-jackets and the metal breastplates that made no sense in modern warfare yet still the Elwynnese persisted in keeping them, encumbering themselves with needless weight. Some soldiers even carried a longbow instead of a rifle. However this was no anachronism Â– they were what was commonly known as the Â‘poor manÂ’s mortarÂ’ for each archer, instead of having his arrow tipped with a steel point had a grenade primed to activate when launched from the bow. They were in essence mobile infantry support artillery-infantry, not only could they keep pace with the soldiers but they kept the same pace as the men on their company. Although the bow, being the size of an averagely built man they were very effective in urban environments, a well trained archer with a keen eye could drop a grenade into a 10-storey window and keep up a great rate of fire to boot. Of course they were far from an average build, those archers, six foot as an average, with their shoulder muscles so heavily developed that they for all intents and purposes look like hunchbacks. Those archers held a certain curiosity value for Victoria Â– she always found herself wondering in what other areas might they be Â‘overdevelopedÂ’. Alas she had not had the opportunity to find out but nonetheless they piqued her interest. What were more interesting to Victoria however were the swords that were the pride and joy of every Elwynnese soldier, regardless of rank. The yatagan was typically decorated to a high degree of craftsmanship, the same as used to ensure the strength and sharpness of its blade. So sharp it was said, that it could cleave an elfish skull in twain with a single blow. The yatagan could be distinguished from other types of swords by various characteristics. The pommel of the bone, horn, ivory or silver hilt spreads out in two wings to either side, a feature that prevents the sword slipping out of the hand in battle. A broad thick metal band covers the join between the hilt and blade. The richest yatagans have hilts of silver or copper gilt set with coral, emeralds, rubies and other precious stones, and similar decoration adorns the scabbards. Yatagan blades vary from 60 to 80 cm in length and are slightly curved towards the sharp edge. While the back of the blade is typically made of iron, the sharp edge is made of steel for strength. Once, during the happy times, Victoria Â– after a particularly troublesome encounter with two servant girls who had tried to expose the Elfinshi Genocide Â– had taken an elfish girl, perhaps no younger than 16 and ordered that she endure the death of a thousand cuts. The soldier who administered the execution was so skilful in his application of the yatagan that the little lass had taken the better part of a day to die. Again, when the Hyperboreans arrived to suppress the regime of the then Baron Ardashir, Victoria had been with one of the few diehard elements to hold out and continue the killings to the last possible moment, when the mood began to change and the native Elwynnese sided with the Paladins and mounted ambushes against the Babkhan and collaborator forces that were retreating towards Habrichtsburg and the western wilderness. She had seen in one encounter the yatagan shatter the sword of a paladin. From those two incidents she fell in love with the sword and swore that she would get one made for herself one day. Until then she could admire.The Eliriaregemente were not the only force present. At least one hundred men from the Eliria Guard, the DukeÂ’s own bodyguard Â– known affectionately as the Â‘DiehardsÂ’, had been assigned to the operation. Their equipment was far from anachronistic, the standard weapon being the MP5 Submachine gun and the M4 Carbine with M203A1 Grenade Launcher. No grenade firing longbows for these soldiers! Their armour was Kevlar, intended for actually stopping bullets rather than being lugged around for the quite artificial purpose of reinforcing regimental camaraderie, anymore than the red tunics that were occasionally worn underneath the breastplate of a regimental soldier could disguise the haemorrhaging of blood from a grievous wound. Most rank and file soldiers in the Elwynnbrigaden, which was the overarching force to which all the four regiments of Elwynn belonged, had taken to wearing khaki tunics, it lowered their profile slightly Â– always a good thing in a target rich environment where a sniper is always looking for a sore thumb in the ranks to slice off. The Eliria Guard however used Â‘oak patternÂ’ camouflage smocks that lowered their visibility in practically all environments. The guardsÂ’ version of the Stahlhelm was also Kevlar and was considerably lighter and more efficient than those issue to regular forces. Together with their proclivity towards wearing balaclavas on all operations they were a ferocious and well-trained force. Their favoured tactic was the helicopter borne assault and that indeed was their tactic for the intended attack this evening.At the other end of the scale completely was the peasant militia, the RustÃ¢yisarbÃ¢zi. Originally mustered in a last gasp attempt to raise sufficient manpower to resist the Antyan-Antican invasion earlier in the year they had been retained subsequently as a paramilitary police force answerable to the Steward of Elwynn, who was of course Ardashir Khan, the Shah of Babkha. Armed with antique carbines and shotguns, together with batons and knifes as their secondary Â‘enforcementÂ’ equipment, they were good for crowd control and not much else besides. Accordingly they had been set to establishing the outer cordon around the targeted address, as well as evicting people from those premisesÂ’ that would be useful to the police and militia. In addition, Victoria, who local commanders, learning of the affinity she currently had with the Steward, prudently ceded control of the operation to, had called up a couple more armoured personnel carriers for a special part of the plan. Now all she was waiting for was the go signal, which was to be authorised by Ardashir, who was away from Elwynn clocking up the air miles on business in other parts of Micras. Â“MaÂ’am! MaÂ’am, the Khan is on the line!Â”Gingerly Victoria extended her hand across and took the mobile phone from the nervous grip of the Elwynnbrigaden sergeant. Leaving the sergeant standing where he was she proceeded out of the office area which was a converted dance floor and bar area with tables, computers, maps and stacks of ammunition and rifles propped up against them, and went out into the hallway which led down to the door onto the alley where directly opposite was the trailed suspect Sabatini, denounced by Cerune RussellÂ’s associate Â‘JohnÂ’ as one of the last men to have seen her alive. Certainly the one believed to have taken part in the botched raid on the Count of Port IlluminationÂ’s hospice. If any man could tell Ardashir what had become of Cerune it would be him.Â“Hello darling,Â” she said in a seductive whisper, low enough not to be heard by the brigade officers in the commandeered Yasmaq Nightclub, the next moment she spoke in a loud voice that was clipped, dutiful and obedient, Â“Yes, my Khan! How may I be of service?Â”Â“Victoria, where are you?Â” Asked the Shah on a secure and encrypted channel from the Hotel Krasnya in Novaya Zemlya, where he had only recently signed a deal with the chekist faction there to continue the Babkhan access to old soviet stockpiles of enriched uranium and the launch facilities of the Sorensk Cosmodrome.Â“Eliria, as you ordered. Awaiting order to arrest suspect known only as Sabatini.Â”Â“Sounds like fun Â– have you been playing down there?Â”Â“No Â– not really,Â” Victoria glanced down the corridor towards where all the officers were standing Â“theyÂ’re all veterans or ugly, I canÂ’t.Â” Not strictly true. During the night she had slipped out from her position and stalked a pretty young boy from the RustÃ¢yisarbÃ¢zi, who once lured away from his post fulfilled her needs and was rewarded with the garrotte around his neck. Â“I do hope this Sabatini is a catch, IÂ’ve got some new games made up and everything.Â”Â“Ah,Â” replied Ardashir, pausing to take a sip of chilled Kubanskaya vodka, the honeyed flavour slipping down his throat the same time as the vapours filled his nostrils, Â“I fear we shall have a change of plan Â– IÂ’ve just had word from the local regiment at Glenfiddich.Â”Victoria had a little intake of breath. If she was to be denied her fun she had a good mind to go onto the dance floor and put a couple of rounds into the skull of the lippy lieutenant with the disgusting taste in shirts. Â“YouÂ’ve got to be kidding meÂ… whatÂ’s the news? WhatÂ’s happened?Â” A slight pause Â– then Ardashir spoke.Â“TheyÂ’ve found a limousineÂ… or rather what was once a limousineÂ… at the bottom of a gorge in Ãseirdia-la-Vrau... I can't even pronounce the nameÂ… point is that it was something like 220ft below where the road is. As you can imagine it was a bit of a mess. Thing was, and weÂ’ve checked this with your old friends at SHINE youÂ’ll be pleased to hear, the same day as the wreck was reported, a female in the traditional attire of the Russell clan, checked out of a hospice in Port Illumination and stepped in a Limousine that set off on the road towards Eliria. I think we can draw the conclusion that Cerune has broken cover.Â”Suddenly Victoria was breathless and excited. Â“You mean she might be coming here? To little old me?Â”ArdashirÂ’s voice at the other end of the line remained flat and emotionless. Â“I very much doubt that. Preliminary reports from the scene state that human remains were found amongst the wreckage, cremated obviously, itÂ’ll be a long time before the number of victims are confirmed and we get a positive ID on them. In the meantime itÂ’s fair to say that Cerune Russell perished in a tragic accident. That certainly is what will be going out in the press releases. They wonÂ’t be happy with this down Amity way.Â”Ardashir permitted himself a slight chuckle at the thought of the guilt that Angel Guardian must be feeling as the news filtered through to him down in his little palace at Erudition. Whatever was he thinking sending such a delicate charge on a vital mission? Oh well, he would have to face up to the attendant consequences of his folly.Â“IÂ’ve taken a slight liberty.Â” He continued. Â“With the press release. IÂ’ve included an announcement to the effect that in CeruneÂ’s apartment, the one she so amusingly trashed in Port Illumination, a signed communiquÃ© was found wherein she authorised the resettlement plan allowing the elves to come up to OzarkaÂ’s little forest in Illumination. Funnily enough for some reason she left lots of signed sheets of paper in her room, if I didnÂ’t know better IÂ’d say she was forging her signature for us. It certainly saves us the bother Â– we just had to type the protocols over the top of them and hey presto Â– CeruneÂ’s name will be forever associated with this historic deal.Â”Victoria laughed, Â“You know both the Angel Guardian and Count Ozarka will decry those documents as forgeries. WeÂ’ll never get them to agree, that our dear flaky girl agreed that is.Â”Ardashir laughed again, betraying a hint of self-satisfaction. Â“My dear girl, you are both beautiful and bright Â– and of course quite correct, they will quite rightly say that these were either made under duress or are outright forgeries, but copies have already been forwarded to all the major international news agencies. TheyÂ’ll be passed down the wires, published in the papers, announced on the radio, broadcast on the TV news, scanned and uploaded to the Internet. In no time at all Micras will be awash with the news, and whatÂ’s more, when they deny the authenticity of the protocol she signed BANG! We send the original to some eminent graphologist who can then verify beyond a shadow of a doubt that the signature was CeruneÂ’s. Again we broadcast loudly Â– complete with assurances of toleration, I even have an edict penned to that effect Â– and it will look as though it is a conspiracy to prevent the Elfinshi returning to their homeland, as if that accursed species ever had a natural home. Selfish economic motives of the Naudia'Diva they will say, and the Elfinshi will feel the yoke of repression is upon them once more and this time their beloved Elwynn is the place of sanctuary, and they will come running into our arms.Â”Â“And weÂ’ll be ready for themÂ… PLAYTIME!Â” Giggled Victoria.Â“Playtime indeedÂ” sighed Ardashir wistfully, as though he was already dwelling upon the prospect of his revenge. Â“Fort Indefatigable is quite ideally placed for this adventure. That young whippersnapper Alfonso will get some action after all.Â”Â“And me?Â” Said Victoria, Â“WonÂ’t I get some action?Â”Â“Of course you will my dearÂ”, replied Ardashir reassuringly, Â“youÂ’ll get yours, and once the deliveries start youÂ’ll be able to play until you are blue in the face.Â”Â“Oh goodyÂ… but, what about Sabatini?Â” A suddenly concerned Victoria asked.Â“What about him?Â” Replied Ardashir, his voice laden with disinterest.Â“If Cerune is dead what is the point of arresting him?Â” The tone in VictoriaÂ’s voice suggested that she sincerely hoped that there would be Â‘someÂ’ point to arresting him still. She rather grimly contemplated the possibility that she would have to pack up all her carefully arranged toys and go home. Â‘Such a long wait and no party at the end, it would be so unfair.Â’Â“No point whatsoever now. However one thing is clear. This man Sabatini, according to our young friend John, has taken a close interest in matters almost from the start. He has sneaked and spied, and it is likely that he is at the head of some larger network. I do not know his purpose or his intentions but his presence in Elwynn is to be considered no longer conducive to the public good. Do I make myself clear?Â”Â“Perfectly Honey.Â” Ardashir could tell that VictoriaÂ’s smile was beaming even though he was an entire continent away Â– at his command to eliminate an undesirable her voice radiated happiness.Â“Good, see to it that the business is attended to before I return. It will be a while before I get back to Elwynn. There are some issues in Babkha that need attending to. A few hundred thousand Anticans have convinced themselves that death is the best they can hope for in life.Â”Â“Sounds like youÂ’ll be having fun Ardy.Â”Â“HavenÂ’t I told you to never call me that? See that the business is finished before next we meet. Ardashir out.Â” The line on the mobile went dead.Â“Fat bastard.Â” Spat Victoria Â“Fat, ugly old bastard. I curse you that you may become meat at Mors table.Â”Calmly she folded the mobile back into its case. Taking a moment to compose herself, she ran her right hand through her raven black hair before calmly checking her underneath her Gucci leather jack to make sure that her Zemlyan Makarov was correctly holstered, and then confidently strode back down the corridor towards where the planning room had been set up. Along the way she encountered the sergeant who had brought her the phone and she tossed it to him, catching him off guard and causing him to fumble the catch, sending the mobile phone crashing to the ground and shattering into its component parts. Â“Mistress, I am soÂ…soÂ… sorryÂ…Â” the panic stricken sergeant stuttered. Â“No need to apologise.Â” She called out as she briskly passed by. Â“There are plenty of other phones, and you will most likely be dead by dawn. So best not you worry about one shitty little phone.Â”From the corridor, the entrance to the club was through a wrought iron gate. However this gate was fully open seeing as the corridor was in constant use. Outside the cubbyhole where on a typical night the bouncer would have lurked a smart young looking regimental corporal stood guard. At her approach he smartly snapped to attention. Â‘HelloÂ’, Victoria thought Â‘how did I manage to miss you gorgeousÂ’. He looked smart and alert so she decided he would probably survive the night. Â‘Good, IÂ’ll catch up with you in the morning Â– if Sabatini expires too soon.Â’ As she walked by she returned his dutiful mark of respect with a sly wink. To her delight he visibly flinched. Through the gates now she entered into the command centre, which was of a normal night the dance floor for some dismal fetishist or Babkhano-Gothic nightclub. Victoria imagined the clientele as being a typical bunch of posers, jaded couples trying to find that Â‘sparkÂ’ to rekindle their relationship, bored businessmen convinced they were getting a kick from the beating whores would freely give out of disgust for their punters but who gladly accepted their money since they were stupid enough to pay for Â‘Babkhan vicesÂ’ Â– as well as the teenagers who thought it was cool to hang out in these places, get tattoos, drink and smoke, wear girls make up, have their genitals pierced or if they really wanted to upset their parents, don a turban, grow a beard and recite Farsi poetry for hours on end, Â‘Self-indulgent little fuckersÂ’.Instead of its Â‘usual sceneÂ’ the place was transformed, several tables, chairs, computers, and maps of the city strewn everywhere. Even the cage where the strippers would dance, dwarves if Victoria recalled correctly from the only time she had visited Â– dwarves, male and female, with prosthetic Â‘enhancementsÂ’ Â– had been filled with boxes of ammunition and grenades. She wasnÂ’t entirely certain that was a good idea, but the point of decision was reached and one more explosion wouldnÂ’t be noticed if things went awry.The command centre was a hive of activity. A throng of officers from all services were milling around; chatting, planning, arguing, shouting orders down the phone, rushing too and thro with faxes and print outs. All this preparation to storm one building, it was quite crazy, but a sense of anxiety about some danger unexplained had been passed down from on high and no one was taking any chances. EveryoneÂ’s nerves were on edge. This may explain why the bar was still opened. The proprietor, a greasy little man with a ridiculous moustache Â– looking suitably frightened at having so many representatives of the Â‘lawÂ’ in his establishment, was still selling Tomann Coffees, that is to say a little drop of coffee with a generous shot of whiskey, to a crowd of militiamen and regiment officers, none of whom felt especially pressed to pay. No doubt the owner insisted that it was Â‘his pleasureÂ’ to serve such fine upstanding defenders of the community. Obviously he would be out of business by the end of the next month. If his establishment was not shot up and left a ruin during the assault the sheer number of militiamen who would be back demanding Â‘protection moneyÂ’ from him now they were aware of his establishment would bankrupt him.Now some of the more sycophantic officers, and the more rashly lustful ones, had taken a note of the entrance of Victoria Rose into the room and had ceased their conversations and tasks and were standing to attention, as more and more turned around to see what their peers were reacting to they too came to attention. However in one corner, a political officer of the Eliriaregement and a Captain of the Eliria Guards were continuing their heated argument regardless.Â“Gentlemen, can I have your attention.Â” Victoria called out. Almost everyone gave her their undivided attention, everyone except the two who were still arguing. To her considerable disgust the political officer was the disrespectful lieutenant from yesterday, the one with the appalling taste in shirts. Today he was wearing a maroon shirt and a brown jacket. Victoria considered executing him on the spot in defence of fashion but decided that they were obviously arguing about something important.Â“Gentlemen, please! Your attention!Â” She once more cried out. Again the two paid her no heed.Â“Ok then Â– you two! WhatÂ’s so important you think this operation can wait on your bickering?Â”The captain turned first and smartly saluted. Â“MaÂ’am, last night three RustÃ¢yisarbÃ¢zi were found dead inside the secured zone.Â”Victoria frowned. Â“If three of our men were killed last night and the first I hear of it is now that suggests something is very wrong does it not? It suggests the zone is not secure.Â” She said answering her own question nicely. Straight of she was in no doubt that she was responsible for one of the deaths. The other two were a mystery Â– and a problem. Â“Where were their bodies discovered?Â”Â“MaÂ’am, one was found underneath a pile of rubbish in Heineplein.Â” Heineplein was the name of the alley that ran divided the club from SabatiniÂ’s safe house. Victoria well remembered placing the bin bags over the corpse of her hapless victim. Now for the other twoÂ…Â“There are two more dead Captain, where were they found?Â”Â“Sturegafam, MaÂ’am. It is a small path that runs along the back of the block.Â”Â“What do you conclude Captain?Â”Â“MaÂ’am. I advise that it appears that the cornered suspects have probed our defences in order to ascertain whether a breakout is possible.Â”Â“MaÂ’am thatÂ’s rubbish.Â” Interjected the Lieutenant with the poor dress sense.Â“Oh, itÂ’s you again,Â” replied Victoria making no effort to hide her distain. Â“Sure of ourselves. ArenÂ’t we, Lieutenant?Â” Â“Yes, MaÂ’am.Â” Replied the world-weary veteran. Â“So explain then.Â” Came the curt reply from Victoria. The captain scoffed loudly as if to say Â‘donÂ’t listen to the bloody foolÂ’.Â“I am certain that the murders are not connected. The modus operandi is quite distinct in the separate instances. In the first instance on Heinplein, a piece of leather in the form of a garrotte has been used. This has left a deep red mark, almost a cut, around the throat of the victim. Further there is evidence of sexual intercourse on the boy.Â” The lieutenant cast an accusing or rather a knowing look at Victoria, who met the glare boldly, staring back daring him to make the accusation. However he was not that stupid. Â“The killer there remains unknown to us while it is clear that the murderer has an Â‘unusualÂ’ passion the identity of she or he is not for us to know. With the other two however by contrast, the necks were cleanly broken and there is no sign of sexual intercourse. Yet in all three cases there is no sign of a violent struggle. All three had lowered their guard, perhaps to a person they trusted, or perhaps to someone who appealed to them, someone attractive Â– probably female.Â”Â“There you go,Â” said the captain Â“They lowered their guard to a pretty bit of skirt Â– the same woman in each case.Â”Â“Not necessarily so.Â” Replied the Lieutenant. Â“In fact definitely not so. For with the first murder, the killer took her time, had her pleasure, was careful to separate her victim from his gun, lead him to a hidden spot, position herself behind him and then strangle in a carefully calculated fashion. This takes strength and agility of mind and body to be sure but consider it in comparison with the murder of the two other guards on Sturegafam. There they were together, each armed, buddy-buddy, each watching the otherÂ’s back. Perhaps they were lulled by feminine charms for a moment, but then suddenly, instantly in fact, their necks were broken so fast that they did not have time to un-sling their rifles or even call out in alarm. Such responses are almost superhuman, as though some unnatural force had a hand.Â”Â“You see,Â” said the captain Â“Supernatural forces eh, Ghosts and goblins? Some girl broke their neck in the bat of an eyelid? What tosh.Â”Â“Tosh to you. But to me when you eliminate the impossible, that which remains is the truth, however improbable it may be.Â”Â“Where have I heard that before?Â” Snorted the Captain.The Lieutenant however paid no heed.Â“I remind you, the first killer had a sexual motive and concealed the body. The second killer killed instantly and made not attempt to conceal her actions.Â”Â“You seem,Â” interrupted Victoria, who in spite of herself was quite impressed with the LieutenantÂ’s reasoning, Â“to be quite up on the business of deduction. So tell me then Lieutenant. In which direction was the supposedly supernatural second killer progressing? Was she breaking out or breaking in?Â”The wizened old Lieutenant smiled and shuffled his feet a little. Â“Well MaÂ’am that parts easy. When I visited the scene of the murder there was the typical mud and grime of an untended alleyway. From the two bodies I found footprints. Of a type that fit a female shoe, of an average size, progressing in hurried steps towards the building that we have surrounded.Â”Â“Huh,Â” mocked Victoria Â“that is the last mistake she will ever make.Â” She turned now to address the entire room.Â“Gentlemen. I have received my orders in no uncertain terms. Tonight we wipe out that nest of vipers!Â”

Shireroth

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