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Essence 6
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Title: Splinter of Mokrelus
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10. In Which Our Hero Makes A Resolution

14 Mar 2007, 12:52

Alakazar was reclining in his tower, indulging in an appropriate display of quiet sorrow, when he felt the caravan cross the borders of Hazelburn. Across from him, Maya was quietly knitting, looking out over the rainy sky with a slight smile as she considered both her work and her strange husband. Languidly, he let his senses expand outwards, feeling the passions of the caravan’s staff as they prepared to unload their goods for trade in the city. Gently, he brushed over each of them in turn, idly curious but not interested in closer examination.

A moment later, he was exploding through the wall of his tower, blasting through the air with a roar of fury. Maya jumped to her feet in surprise, looking through the gaping hole in the wall as the rainstorm coiled around Alakazar and propelled him down the mountainside.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS??” Alakazar almost screamed the words, thunder emphasizing his anger as he slammed into the ground a few yards from the edge of the caravan. The staff scattered in fright, leaving the caravan master to cautiously step forwards.

“I, um, I’m not sure what you mean, milord. I mean… have we somehow offended you? It was entirely unintentional…”

“Don’t act unaware!” Alakazar strode forwards, grabbing the caravan master by one shoulder. The large human was forced to bend slightly as the lord dragged him down the length of the wagon, workers scattering in his wake. The two stopped in front of a worker, the only one who had yet to react to Alakazar’s arrival. Instead, he was merely taking crates off the wagon, as easily as though such storms of fury happened every day. “Who is THIS?”

“Uh…” The caravan master’s fear was mixed with confusion. “A slave, my lord! Nothing more! Only recently purchased, in fact. I don’t know…”

“Silence.” Alakazar hissed the word, and he turned to look at the caravan master. “What have you done to him?”

“Me? Nothing. I don’t beat him, milord. A good worker, he…”

“HIS SOUL!!” Lightning flashed, and the rains poured down. “You have destroyed it!” Alakazar turned his attention back to the worker, who continued heedlessly stacking boxes. “There is nothing left…”

“He was like this when I purchased him!” Frantic, the caravan master cupped his hands. “In truth, he seemed daft to me, but the price was good, and he is very obedient…”

“Of course he is.” The thunder dulled to a faint echo, though the rains continued. Alakazar stepped forwards, and hestitantly touched one hand to the shoulder of the working man. He stopped, turning to face the lord and merchant, but said nothing. “His volition. His dreams. Everything that makes this absurd, stupid plate of dirt worth living on is gone. Snuffed out like a candle, before its chance to burn is done…”

“He is dream-eaten.” The soft voice came from behind, and Alakazar turned in surprise. Serafin stood behind him, her expression mournful. Silver tattoos twined down her body, vanishing into her clothes. “His soul was fed on until nothing remains but ashes.”

“Who would do such a thing?”

“The raksha.” Serafin looked down. “It was your people, husband.”

“No.” Alakazar could barely whisper the word. “It is an abomination. An atrocity. It denies everything that we hold dear, to take something that imagines and turn it into… into nothing.” His eyes hardened. “I will find the lord who thinks himself able to do this without consequence. I will burn his lands to ash, and tear his body apart. I will…”

“It isn’t just one.” Serafin caught Alakazar’s eyes, and her jaw set. “It’s happening everywhere. All the fae left behind in Creation are becoming a plague upon it.”

“It cannot be all of them.” Alakazar shook his head, the clouds above hanging heavy. “I cannot be the only one who understands…”

“There may be others. A few fae live with humanity. But if there are more, they are silent.”

“Then I will find them.” Alakazar set his jaw grimly. “I will find all of us who feel as I do, and I will do battle with those that do not.” A bitter smile appeared on his features, and he looked back at the man. “Any who would commit such a crime do not deserve to exist. And who better to fight the raksha… than one another? We have always been our own worst enemies.”

Serafin smiled suddenly. “I hoped you would feel that way.” She stepped forwards, and took his hands. “I will stand with you, and fight with you, if you will have me.”

“Forever and always, beloved.” Alakazar looked towards the sky, and Serafin followed his gaze. “We will forge a new court – the Court of Silver. And we will stand against anything that would threaten these beautiful souls.”

A half-mile away, standing on a hilltop, Grandfather Frost and Quiet Blooming watched the display, unseen by the participants. Frost spoke first. “Well? What are your thoughts on this?”

“It’s madness, of course, as is anything to do with the Fair Folk.” Her tone was simple, matter-of-fact. “But it might yet succeed. I say we let this Serafin have her attempt.”

“I concur.” Frost nodded. “We will inform the Pact. This experiment of Serafin’s is approved by us, unless a time comes when it threatens the safety of Creation. Until then… we will see if her goals can be met.” He paused. “She spoke the Sutra of the Maiden and Lover, unknowing. And she saw Sextes Jylis in her vision quest.”

“Strange.” Quiet Blooming frowned thoughtfully. “I feel the hand of something greater stirring here, brother.”

“Indeed.” Frost nodded slowly. “Time will tell whether our course is a wise one.” Turning, he let himself become an elk, and vanished into the woods. Quiet Blooming watched the borders of Hazelburn for a time longer, then made her own way away.
"Some people walk in the rain. Others merely get wet."

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Essence 8
Essence 8
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14 Mar 2007, 22:03

Good to see that an evil soul devouring monster from the chaos outside space and time can still be a caring person on occasion.
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Essence 7
Essence 7
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Location: Bellingham, WA

15 Mar 2007, 18:32

This is actually damn cool.

Which shouldn't surprise me, given Friv's written it.
BrilliantRain: There are those who would note that sometimes, sometimes, you get the things you really need instead of the things you deserve.
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Essence 7
Essence 7
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Title: Pattern Spider
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Fighting Style: I will nom your tasty paradox

15 Mar 2007, 19:14

I really like Alakazar. He's a good guy completely on accident via his pragmatism, but I like him nonetheless.
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Essence 7
Essence 7
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Title: Deathlord-Empress of the Underworld
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Location: Unholy Stygia

15 Mar 2007, 19:56

Seconded on the Storm Lord Alakazar, always liked the Storm Gods - finicky little fuckers they are, but the most interesting of all.

Good stuff, please sir, can I have some MOAR?
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

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