Thursday, September 1, 2011

Clip Five - The Shard

Year 1: The twenty-third day of the third month (982YK)
A sharp crack and a flash of blue interrupted Lily's walk to Rayler's shop.  Her eyes narrowed as she recognized the pale shadows and oppressive air of Dolurrh.  She darted to the nearest pitiful excuse of a tree and crouched beside it.  She felt an urge to call for Glen despite knowing that he was back in Sharn, but she could already hear Vedik reprimanding her for even thinking of calling attention to herself in the shadows of Dolurrh.  That old hermit had taught her how to survive in the darkness when she had found herself on the wrong side of a manifest zone five years ago, and she owed the shadar-kai much for her skills with the spiked chain.
Which doesn't help me much here, Lily thought, reaching into the empty satchel at her hip, sorting through its contents in her mind, and drawing out the utility knife she found.  I still haven't gotten used to keeping everything in my handy haversack.  My spiked chain does me little good hanging on the wall of our apartment, and I doubt I'll be able to find a place I can buy flour in the shadowfell.
Looking across the barren hills, Lily darted from mound to mound, trying to stay hidden.  Her mind was racing.
It was too sudden to have been a manifest zone.  I've heard similar cracks from some teleportation spells. . .
There you are.
The thought was not her own.  She whirled around, noticing a figure enveloped in shadow.  From its horns, its spines, the voice in her head, and from the rapid drop of the ambient temperature, Lily recognized the shadowy figure as a nightwalker.  Every fiber of her being was telling her to run as far and fast as possible, but she remained rooted in place.  The knowledge that the paralyzing terror she felt was a magical effect did not help her to break free of it.
Do you prefer to be called Lily Kristov or Lily Desota?  I seem to recall some relationship between surnames and marriage, but Khyber take me if I should be expected to keep up with naming conventions of mortal creatures, the voice in her head rasped.  Since it was only nine days ago, I deemed that it would be prudent of me to ask.
"Should I be flattered that you consider me important enough that you would scry on me?"  Lily grimaced as she strained against herself in an effort to move.
Perhaps.  You are perhaps more important than I suspect.  Perhaps more important than you could imagine.  And perhaps not.  The creature traced a circle in the air.  Hold Person.  Bands of blue energy wrapped around Lily's limbs.
Not that I don't trust you, but I always find talking to strangers easier when I have a captive audience.
Noting the pregnant silence and the glare it was receiving, the nightwalker shrugged - avoiding the spikes on its shoulders in the process.  The humor of mortals is an oddity, but I find it fascinating.
"I'm guessing - rather, I'm hoping you didn't stalk me and kidnap me just to help you with your understanding of comedy."
Is not banter regularly exchanged before conversations of import?
"When you've got someone's attention thusly," Lily said, struggling against the magical bonds for effect, "it is generally considered good form to get to the point as soon as possible."
Ah.  Then I should like to inform you that I found an alcove containing a section of the draconic prophecy.  The alcove also contained this dragonshard and intriguingly specific instructions that its power be imparted unto you.
Lily looked at the object in the creature’s hand.  The purple gem was roughly the size of her fist.  Even with the subdued colors of the shadowfell, the facets of the dragonshard glimmered, revealing inky black streaks within.
"You’re simply giving me a khyber dragonshard?  They use these to bind elementals.  How do I know it isn't going to eat my soul or somesuch?"
It is both a blessing and a curse.  It is darkness.  The power to meld with shadows and savage your enemies from the dark, the power to…
"But it's pure darkness.  Why would I want it?"
It matters not if you want it because you need it.  A storm approaches.  You and Glen must find others like you, others with ties to the Lesser Masters.  The existence of everything in Eberron and all the realms connected to it is at stake.
"Why do you care?"
It's the draconic prophecy.
"And that's enough for you?"
It's the draconic prophecy.
"Fine.  Whatever.  Hand me the rock so I can go home."
There was an impact and a wet splatter.  Lily heard a startled cry in her head and she was jerked forward as the nightwalker quickly leapt away.  She looked down and realized the creature had just removed its hand from the gaping hole in her chest, the hole into which three inky black tendrils were retracting.  The wound filled with liquid darkness and solidified.  Staring at the black plug, she saw the blue circles that were binding her, saw darkness radiate out into them, saw them dissipate with a crack the instant the circles were entirely black.  A malevolent grin spread across her face, and she melted into the darkness.  From within the shadows she surged toward the nightwalker.  She sprang from the darkness behind it, seized the shadows around her, wrapping them around her arm to make a lance of pitch, and lunged
Power Word Stun
Frozen stopped denied
anger rage hatred wrath
consume destroy revenge retribution restitution
Restraints
You aren’t controlling the darkness; it’s controlling you.
Another shadowy figure appeared.  It was saying things to the nightwalker, but Lily didn’t care.  Another obstacle to be torn to shreds and feasted upon.  Their souls would sate until she could return to Sharn.  There she would be free to feed, returning with a bounty of souls to…
Glen.
[mouthed: "what is pre-"] “-scious to you?  Lily!”
A woman’s voice.  She felt a hand on her cheek.
Glen…
The gloom surrounding her arm began to fade away.  Her hand, the wedding ring shimmering in the gloam.
Glen.
She was vaguely aware of the woman, now holding a scroll and chanting.  Where was the nightwalker?
Why was she        What was she
She felt intense heat, her hand, her ring.
The silver band with golden tracery,
the sapphire gem, faceted, fascinated, faint, fate, fault
Glowing, arcane, archaic, liquid metal, a feeling of heat without heat
What was she doing?
Silver gold sapphire, pooling in her palm, the woman chanting
A golden glyph slowly spins
She can feel her hand
A silver line traces her arm, shoulder, splits
One line to her neck, her temple, her eye,
A blue tint, a change of view,
She could see them, a strand, a string,
As though she could always see them,
Every living thing had a string
She remembered, they were connections to the Master
Who was the Greater Master?
There were some who had different strings
Those of the Lesser Masters?
What was it that she…
Silver, her shoulder, a second path
One line to her sternum, the black plug, silver sigils surrounding
Anger, rage, hatred, wrath,
ire, vice, pride, pain, agony,
Silence.
Lily hadn’t realized she had been floundering until she surfaced, gasping for air.  She was on her hands and knees, breathing heavily.  She could feel the Khyber dragonshard inside her; she could feel its corruption, its decay, but she knew that it was trapped, caged, contained.
She coughed and she coughed, she coughed until her throat was sore.  When she looked up, she saw the woman crouching beside her.  Her string looked like a ribbon, swirling with every color and dancing up into the sky.  Lily struggled to her feet.  She saw the nightwalker, but she couldn’t see its string.  She could tell it was there, but it was like a strand of void, warping reality around itself.  She steadied herself and spoke.
“Okay.  What the Khyber was that?  You impaled me with a soul-eating crystal!  If it weren’t for - what’s your name?”
“Talon”
“If it weren’t for Talon here I’d probably be back in Sharn slaughtering people and feasting on their souls.  What did you do to me?”
“He gave you the power you will need.”
Lily turned to face Talon.
“Why isn’t he responding?”
“Ulyen made a mistake.  He forgot to remember.  He’s hiding.  He’s concentrating very hard.  He doesn’t know how well you can see.  You can see the connections.  I wonder if you can see his - where it goes.”
“I don’t understand”
“And you might never.  But you might gain the knowledge you never knew, the knowledge you always had.  Ulyen was wrong, but he played the role required of him.  The draconic prophecy is true.  The scholars quibble over meaning, misinterpreting, meandering.  You can see the connections.  You can grant this sight to Glen.  You and he will start an adventuring guild.  You will find and recruit those with connections to the Lesser Masters.  You must prepare.  A storm is approaching.”
Lily is interrupted before she can respond by a sharp crack and a flash of blue.  She was standing on a walkway back in Sharn.  The towers stretching into the sky above her were surrounded by strings reaching down from a place she couldn’t discern.  The bands were immaterial.  She saw an airship fly through unhindered; the flame elemental surrounding the boat having no effect on the swaying strands.
Some of the strings shone.  She knew, she noticed, she saw, she stood,
the flour quite forgot.
She went home
to prepare
to tell Glen
to gather and collect
to teach and to train
A storm was approaching, and there was much work to be done.

Clip Four - The Offer

Year 17: The seventh day of the ninth month (998YK)
Sitting on the desk, she stared intently at the paper Hrafnig had given her this morning. The information he and Krenth had gathered in the Shadow Marshes clearly showed that the Order of the Emerald Claw was raiding small settlements and drawing the ire of House Tharashk, but if they weren't going after dragonshards she couldn't understand what they hoped to gain.
"Missus Kristov," inquired a timid voice belonging to an eladrin standing by the door. Though he possessed a relatively burly physique as eladrin go, his entire head could probably fit inside the bicep of an average dragonborn. She had yet to encounter an eladrin that wasn't lean. "Is Mister Kristov around?"
She gave him a weary smile, setting the report down beside her on the desk.
"Arranis, right? This is, what is it, your fifth day in the guild? Several things. First, call me Lily. I appreciate the respect, but it makes me feel old. I'm sure Glen would think the same thing if you call him Mr. Kristov, whether or not he'd admit it. Second, to answer your question, Glen is out and will be back in two days. Third, come in and sit down. I don't bite, and I bet I can answer your questions as well as the guildmaster could."

DATA MISSING

"You could learn more about that in the library," a smooth basso voice stated. "I was just perusing a book about it yesterday. I bet Tavia would know exactly where to find it. Why don't you go pay her a visit?"
The voiced belonged to a stately man standing in the doorway. His garb was black with yellow trim, the symbol of the Sovereign Host outlined in the center of his tunic.
"I wasn't asking."
With that Arranis’ nervous stammering was silenced, and he made haste to leave the room.
Hael took the vacated seat and reclined, placing his boots upon the desk beside Lily.
Lily frowned at him, giving an expression of disapproval and curiosity. "Mister Magnificent Bastard bludgeoning when he could have used finesse? Alright, I'll bite. What've you got for me?"
Hael smiled. (with a hint of menace) "An offer."

DATA ENDS

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Home again, Home again, Jiggity Jog

I am home once more, so content should be arriving in a more timely manner than it was over the summer.

I am about 80% finished with a short story that will be posted upon its completion.
I've been working most of the summer on this sucker.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Uncertainty

Jack and Jill went up the hill.  Each spoke with me in turn.
Both wove a tale of weal and woe, and each the other spurned.
If one was true, the other false - but how could I discern?
How can I reconcile the contradictions I have learned?

Each I trust, respect, and love, and each my friend remains.
I cannot choose between the two, so neutral I must stay.
I'll never have true certainty.  This causes me great pains.
I pray someday the truth to know.  Lord God, I hope and pray!

-----

Not related to camp in any form or fashion.

Life is complicated; BAWWWWWW!

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Camp!

Camp camp camp camp camp camp camp camp camp
Camp camp camp camp camp camp camp camp camp
Camp camp camp camp camp camp camp camp camp
Camp camp camp camp camp camp camp camp camp!

Yay camp!

I'll try and have additional posts throughout the summer, but I can't guarantee a constant stream of creative effort at this particular outlet.

CAMP!

Friday, June 17, 2011

Beauty

You sit in a bleak wasteland.
The world exists in black and white, with dull greys in between.
You are cold.
Cold and alone.
Alone in the chill of night.
The cold creeps upon your quivering form.
The stark tree under which you huddle hinders not the biting wind.
You have sat under this tree for so long.
Waiting.
Waiting for someone.
For anyone.
For anything more to enter your heart than the frigid air.
The boreal breeze leaving you ailing and algid there.
You can feel the frost and recall the rime.
You are accustomed to the ague.
You have almost acclimated to the algor
When you see her.
You see her eyes -
Bright pools of blue.
You see them and the ice begins to crack.

Beauty.

Staring at you with piercing eyes.
No longer alone in the wastes.
You see her and the brumal bitterness is banished.
Farewell to the frost and the frore
For now and evermore.

Beauty.

You are caught in her gaze.
You fall into her eyes
Into blue waters flowing freely.
The ice cracks.
There is pain.
One must take care.
Having been so long in the cold, one forgets the fire that burns.
The heat will heal, but hold!
So long alone, can one learn to love again?
Love?
Her eyes bring you back.
She stares.

Beauty.

And then it occurs to you:
That snow leopard might be staring because she's hungry.

...

Run.

-----

(Inspiration)

Sandbox: An Observed Correspondence

Dear Intellect,
We have found something worth fighting for!  We have seen the face that launched a thousand ships!  Our muse, who we once thought a fickle, fey creature who graced us with ideas at times and laughed at our attempts to continue without her, for whom we have been seeking:
We have found her!  We have found our muse and we have found her to be fair beyond measure!
She graces us with her presence.  She stays at our behest.  She grants us our request.  She pours the water of life and beckons us to quaff thereof!  We have tasted the sweet nectar of the insight she provides!
How can you restrain us from any effort to pursue, to spend but one more moment in the majesty of her presence, to damn the torpedoes, drop everything, and go to her?
Please.  Let us fly to her.  Let us throw caution to the wind.  Let us brave all dangers, let us slay the dragon, climb the tallest tower, let us sweep her off her feet as she did to us before we had even realized.
COME ON, MAN!  SERIOUSLY!
I am having difficulty conveying the emotions surging through me with mere words.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!
FREAKIN' CUT ME SOME SLACK HERE!
-Gut
P.S. Even if he hasn't brought it up to you yet, Heart is on my side in this matter.

-----

Dear Gut,
When you said "water of life," was that a reference to the Bible or a reference to Dune?
Curious,
-Nerdiness

-----

Esteemed Colleague,
Your input is appreciated and will be taken into consideration.
You and Heart have been spending too much time with Romanticism.  Would you harm others to secure your muse?
Yes, she has been dancing through our head, but that is no reason to reject Reason.  There exist commitments and obligations, connections that force the delay.  But absence makes the heart grow fonder.
In essence, suck it up and deal.
Have patience.  Reason and I have decided that she's worth it.
Final Arbiter of All Decisions,
-Intellect
P.S. Caps Lock is not cruise control for cool.
P.P.S. Nerdiness, it is bad manners to read mail not intended for you and even worse manners to ask trivial questions after so doing.  I shall reprimand Latent Creepiness later, since he is the one who likely intercepted the mail and showed it to you.  Besides, I would think that the phrase references neither of the options you provided.

-----

final arbiter haha i dont like being punsih reprimannded ill tell postmodernism on you
-lc

-----

Dear Cohabitants,
Hello, again.
Amused by your antics, as usual.  Love the bit where we're pretending this actually was physical correspondence such that Nerdiness' response was indeed a breach of protocol.
Everything flowing falling apart together wading through the end of all the thoughts that slosh about until everything ceases to