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Into the Icy Darkness II: The Next Generation
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<blockquote data-quote="Emperor Valerian" data-source="post: 1698023" data-attributes="member: 15043"><p>“Um... no reason!” Raven said hurriedly. She saw her sister’s eyes glare, as Rose demanded, without words, to hear the truth. For a second or two, the tenseness in the hall between the two grew, until Raven was on the verge of blurting out the good news. Finally, she gave in.</p><p></p><p>“Well, Val’s coming to help me look at the Pelor Temple Archives!” she lied... poorly enough that Rose’s eyebrow rose in question. Thankfully, before Rose could probe her little story any more, an insistent, hard knocking at the door interrupted.</p><p></p><p>“I wonder who that could be?” Rose said suspiciously, glaring at Raven the whole while. Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned and started back downt he stairs. With a sigh of relief, Raven followed. She caught a glimpse of his sister looking up, her face accusing her of some hidden secret as she slipped towards a window to peek out. Rose then spun around, her jaw slightly agape.</p><p></p><p><em>Its not the dark elf or the dead king,</em> Raven reasoned, <em>they likely wouldn’t knock to come in... more crush down the door.</em> “Rose? Who-“</p><p></p><p>“Raven? Um... were you expecting a large group of people in dark cloaks?” she asked with worry.</p><p></p><p>“No...” Raven replied, backtracking up the stairs. Towards her room, and her nagiaka. <em>Dark cloaks... en masse... NOT GOOD.</em></p><p></p><p>“Get Val!” Rose shouted, before dashing into the kitchen. As Raven reached the top of the stairs, she heard pots and pans falling, as well as her sister’s high pitched voice screaming at the staff. </p><p></p><p>Raven was sure no one had covered the upper hall distance as fast as she did running to get Valaron. He was the only one in the house presently with a real blade... Raven had a real weapon, but a long whip in the narrow confines of the house might do more harm than good, and Rose’s dagger was little more than a fancy butcher knife.</p><p></p><p>“Val!” she yelled, sliding to a halt on the varnished floor just outside his doorway.</p><p></p><p>“Huh?” he had his tunic on now, but his armor was neatly packed in the corner. <em>Not enough time for him to put it on!</em> Raven’s mind jumped. Val merely looked confused and somewhat bemused at first. Once he saw Raven’s look of panic, however, his look changed to concern.</p><p></p><p>“Your sword! Get it! Dark cloaks! Many outside!” Raven sputtered loudly, running into the room and shoving him towards his two blades stacked beside the armor. She saw him start to reach for the extra protection, so she helped him by shoving his hands back towards the blades. “No time!”</p><p></p><p>“Alright! Alright!” he complained, picking up his <em>katana</em>. Raven grabbed his other, shorter sword, which she couldn’t pronounce. For a split second, her mind looked at the blade in confusion. <em>I don’t know how to wield this!</em> She then thought back to her nagiaka, and with ease saw it getting caught on a chair, or a chandelier, leaving her in a world of hurt. She’d worry about this later.</p><p></p><p>With little regard to politeness, Raven then hurriedly shoved him in the hallway. He broke into a mere jog... a jog that only turned into a run after she ran past him, and bounded down the stairs two steps at a time.</p><p></p><p>At the bottom of the stairs, she saw the small menagerie of an army Rose had gathered. Raven’s sister had armed herself with a butcher’s knife. The butler held a metal pan, and the two maids held brooms. The latter three looked ashen, and rocked in fear as if a slight breeze would blow them over. They all looked relieved to see two people arrive armed with real weapons... and at least one look as if he could properly wield his.</p><p></p><p>“Rose, Raven?” a female voice faintly asked from outside. It sounded vaguely familiar, but none trusted its tone. It was too muffled by the door to be sure.</p><p></p><p>“When I throw the door open, be prepared,” Rose said quietly, slipping quickly and silently behind the door. She unconsciously flipped the knife in her hand into a knife-fighter’s grip. Everyone tensed, as silently Rose mouthed counting to three, and then yanked the door wide.</p><p></p><p><em>That almost sounded like Tess... but she’s down at the tombs! Maybe its the assassins returned! Or Elsidor trying to use the arcane to get in!</em> She closed her eyes, held the blade high, and tensed her legs to launch a charge forward. <em>If it is the dark mage, I must be fast!</em></p><p></p><p>Momentarily the outside glare blocked their view. Raven heard the butler and maids give growls that in any other situation, would have been comical. As it was, Raven had lurched forward, the shorter blade high above her head as she let loose a cry. Alone in the group did Val have his blade pointed expertly at the figures in the doorway. </p><p></p><p>Even as she rushed ahead, Raven expected to hear a shout, a rose, and feel the slash of steel going by her. Instead, she heard a <em>very</em> familiar peal of laughter. A tall blonde slipped into the house, hands outstretched, a playful smile on her face.</p><p></p><p>“Hold, Raven! I’m no thief!” Tesseron Keldare called. Raven’s planned forward charge sputtered to a stunned halt. Rose’s knife wavered shakily, a confused expression on the girl’s face. Val’s sword lowered to the ground, his face also showing his confusion. The maids and the butler upon Tess’ sudden movement inside promptly dropped their impromptu weapons and dashed to hide behind the dining room table.</p><p></p><p>“Aunt Tess?” Raven asked quietly. Her eyes could see it indeed was the bard, but her mind was still confused. The bard stepped forward again, and now there was no doubt. Behind her streamed in armed men clad in the colors of a city watch that Raven didn’t recognize, even more clad in black robes... and one familiar face.</p><p></p><p><em>Eyrna Erelion?</em> Raven’s mind looked at the disheveled black-haired woman in the midst of the dark cloaks. <em>Why is she here!?</em> Rage started to fill in Raven’s mind, remembering how this entire mess began. <em>That... that... bitch! Why did she do that, and start this!?</em> </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Eyrna herself had been looking forward to this moment with nothing less than complete dread. </p><p></p><p><em>So this is my punishment... to see the Prince and his ‘friend’ again...</em> she inwardly had scowled. <em>Will Tesseron turn me over to him for... exile? No... she is more honorable than that... I have no doubt I shall have my life... but what kind of life will he leave me with?</em> His mother’s fury was legendary, and in the short space of two weeks, she’d done more to injure this young dragon than many in the previous sixteen years of his life.</p><p></p><p>“You...” she saw the Dice girl... <em>Raven, I think</em>, lunge towards her. Eyrna saw the sword in her hand, and the murder that was dancing in her eyes. The noblewoman expected to feel a momentary blast of steel and then an eternal nothing, but to her surprise, the bard stepped in the girl’s path.</p><p></p><p>“No, Raven,” she heard the bard say, “there will be no shedding of blood this day. Far too much will be shed on her account.” A small, tiny part of Eyrna wanted to gloat towards the Dice girl. Her common sense intervened, however. <em>Contrite should be the order of this day... at least for now,</em> her astute mind reasoned. With a great deal of self control, she did not respond to the girl’s rage... indeed she did not even look up at her.</p><p></p><p><em>Tesseron has shown me much more kindness... perhaps that will be her downfall, as well as the downfall of this motley group.</em> No amount of kindness would bring her father back... or set the wrong that it should have been her father on the Imperial throne...[/i]</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Hemmel ducked his head a little lower, his hand reaching over the vendor’s table and picking up a rather ornate and useless butterknife.</p><p></p><p>“This one looks like its worth quite a bit,” the assassin observed, his improvised village drawl coming out perfectly. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as various cloaks and hoods slipped into the day’s business crowds, having observed the panic signal.</p><p></p><p>“It is, sir!” the young man selling the various knifes and tableware at this stall agreed eagerly. “Its fluting design was done by Master Xederla, the famed bladesmith!”</p><p></p><p><em>I have never heard of a master bladesmith with a name like Xederla,</em> Hemmel grumbled in his mind, <em>And no famous bladesmith would be carving mere butterknives!</em> The assessment of the salesman’s attempts at lying were a welcome distraction, to keep him from sweating up, or otherwise showing his guilty visage.</p><p></p><p><em>Why are so many Hieroneous paladins about?</em> Hemmel asked as the tramp of their boots echoed through the crowded stalls of the marketplace. He felt a push forward into the booth in front of him, as the crowds behind him pushed him forward to make way. Seeing the rest of hte crowd turning to gape, Hemmel freely joined them.</p><p></p><p><em>Twelve paladins... one of whom is clad in the armor of a Commander,</em> Hemmel counted quietly. <em>That’s far more fighting power than I would normally tangle with... where are they headed?</em> His mind ran through the possible destinations, and he gave a slight smile. </p><p></p><p><em>They cannot be headed to the Pelor Temple... Pelor’s own paladins protect that...</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Too bad that’s where we are headed...</em> he smiled, before turning back to the knife salesman.</p><p></p><p></p><p>Ananias looked around, and gave a blinding smile. It felt good to feel the life force draining out of a creature again. He turned down to look at the kicking, struggling man, a sun disk on a necklace flying about as he desperately bucked and twisted, trying to remove Ananias’ hand from his throat.</p><p></p><p>“Your god will protect you... surely,” Ananias smiled darkly, remembering the clerics that had deserted him so many years before in the face of the Empire. “I can feel Pelor’s power right now,” he hissed, eyes wide in delight.</p><p></p><p>The poor man underneath him struggled only a few more moments, his eyes bulging with the exertion. When he fell silent with a dull finality, Ananias released his body, feeling refreshed.</p><p></p><p>“Excellent!” he heard the dark elf’s voice in the woods to his left. Ananias turned, and watched as the air seemed to shimmer, before the drow seemed to coalesced out of nowhere. “We shall pattern our disguises after him! Accurate down to the holy symbol itself!”</p><p></p><p>Ananias’ smile dimmed somewhat... he had already made it known he was not keen on <em>polymorphing</em>, even temporarily, into a cleric of Pelor. But Elsidor’s logic was undefeatable... clerics and paladins of Pelor were the only ones going into the temple that would not be thoroughly questioned upon requesting to enter their ‘lower vaults.’</p><p></p><p><em>They likely don’t even know what treasure they have! And to think that it was the Emperor himself that sent those items there!</em> Ananias thought it was the greatest irony. Elsidor had told him what had happened... how the Countess had tried to rise up to overthrow the Empire and been brutally repressed... the staff destroyed, save the Fire Stone. <em>Part of the lost jewels of Zoe, handed over by her brother to the paladins of Pelor to thank them for destroying my great-great-granddaughter!</em></p><p></p><p>The last part stung the most... how the Emperors of Iskeldrun had so callously destroyed his family line, and his life’s work... the staff. That all would soon be avenged, in good time. The Countess Lucilda, her infant son Lucius... they both shall see the light of day once again, after he had shattered the Empire that had so vilely destroyed them. The undead king had already begun making plans of what he would do once he was properly seated on the Throne of Emperors. His first order of business would be to hunt down that silver dragon... Xanadu...</p><p></p><p>Elsidor’s chatter interrupted the king’s daydream. </p><p></p><p>“...and you would think Holstean would be the appropriate place for Your Majesty to declare your ancestry, and the new order... with myself as your Chamberlain and right hand assistant, of course,” the drow smiled.</p><p></p><p>Ananias had the urge to frown. The drow had raised him from his end, true, but <em>something</em> about him didn’t seem right. <em>He means to dominate me,</em> Ananias had decided eventually. <em>That will never happen!</em></p><p></p><p>“Of course, my friend. I always trust your advice,” Ananias reached back to his former life as a noble, and lied with a sincere smile on his lips. He gave a slight bow, before turning and looking at the brick walls looming in the distance. He heard a few arcane words come from the drow, and felt his skin twist, growing pale in color, his robes changing to a traveler’s leathers... and a small sun disk hanging from his neck.</p><p></p><p>“I think it is time, my friend, that we go visit some of our comrades at Pelor’s Temple,” Ananias said, pleased at the deeper, more resonant voice of his disguise. Little did he know the chain of events that was about to unfold...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Emperor Valerian, post: 1698023, member: 15043"] “Um... no reason!” Raven said hurriedly. She saw her sister’s eyes glare, as Rose demanded, without words, to hear the truth. For a second or two, the tenseness in the hall between the two grew, until Raven was on the verge of blurting out the good news. Finally, she gave in. “Well, Val’s coming to help me look at the Pelor Temple Archives!” she lied... poorly enough that Rose’s eyebrow rose in question. Thankfully, before Rose could probe her little story any more, an insistent, hard knocking at the door interrupted. “I wonder who that could be?” Rose said suspiciously, glaring at Raven the whole while. Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned and started back downt he stairs. With a sigh of relief, Raven followed. She caught a glimpse of his sister looking up, her face accusing her of some hidden secret as she slipped towards a window to peek out. Rose then spun around, her jaw slightly agape. [i]Its not the dark elf or the dead king,[/i] Raven reasoned, [i]they likely wouldn’t knock to come in... more crush down the door.[/i] “Rose? Who-“ “Raven? Um... were you expecting a large group of people in dark cloaks?” she asked with worry. “No...” Raven replied, backtracking up the stairs. Towards her room, and her nagiaka. [i]Dark cloaks... en masse... NOT GOOD.[/i] “Get Val!” Rose shouted, before dashing into the kitchen. As Raven reached the top of the stairs, she heard pots and pans falling, as well as her sister’s high pitched voice screaming at the staff. Raven was sure no one had covered the upper hall distance as fast as she did running to get Valaron. He was the only one in the house presently with a real blade... Raven had a real weapon, but a long whip in the narrow confines of the house might do more harm than good, and Rose’s dagger was little more than a fancy butcher knife. “Val!” she yelled, sliding to a halt on the varnished floor just outside his doorway. “Huh?” he had his tunic on now, but his armor was neatly packed in the corner. [i]Not enough time for him to put it on![/i] Raven’s mind jumped. Val merely looked confused and somewhat bemused at first. Once he saw Raven’s look of panic, however, his look changed to concern. “Your sword! Get it! Dark cloaks! Many outside!” Raven sputtered loudly, running into the room and shoving him towards his two blades stacked beside the armor. She saw him start to reach for the extra protection, so she helped him by shoving his hands back towards the blades. “No time!” “Alright! Alright!” he complained, picking up his [i]katana[/i]. Raven grabbed his other, shorter sword, which she couldn’t pronounce. For a split second, her mind looked at the blade in confusion. [i]I don’t know how to wield this![/i] She then thought back to her nagiaka, and with ease saw it getting caught on a chair, or a chandelier, leaving her in a world of hurt. She’d worry about this later. With little regard to politeness, Raven then hurriedly shoved him in the hallway. He broke into a mere jog... a jog that only turned into a run after she ran past him, and bounded down the stairs two steps at a time. At the bottom of the stairs, she saw the small menagerie of an army Rose had gathered. Raven’s sister had armed herself with a butcher’s knife. The butler held a metal pan, and the two maids held brooms. The latter three looked ashen, and rocked in fear as if a slight breeze would blow them over. They all looked relieved to see two people arrive armed with real weapons... and at least one look as if he could properly wield his. “Rose, Raven?” a female voice faintly asked from outside. It sounded vaguely familiar, but none trusted its tone. It was too muffled by the door to be sure. “When I throw the door open, be prepared,” Rose said quietly, slipping quickly and silently behind the door. She unconsciously flipped the knife in her hand into a knife-fighter’s grip. Everyone tensed, as silently Rose mouthed counting to three, and then yanked the door wide. [i]That almost sounded like Tess... but she’s down at the tombs! Maybe its the assassins returned! Or Elsidor trying to use the arcane to get in![/i] She closed her eyes, held the blade high, and tensed her legs to launch a charge forward. [i]If it is the dark mage, I must be fast![/i] Momentarily the outside glare blocked their view. Raven heard the butler and maids give growls that in any other situation, would have been comical. As it was, Raven had lurched forward, the shorter blade high above her head as she let loose a cry. Alone in the group did Val have his blade pointed expertly at the figures in the doorway. Even as she rushed ahead, Raven expected to hear a shout, a rose, and feel the slash of steel going by her. Instead, she heard a [i]very[/i] familiar peal of laughter. A tall blonde slipped into the house, hands outstretched, a playful smile on her face. “Hold, Raven! I’m no thief!” Tesseron Keldare called. Raven’s planned forward charge sputtered to a stunned halt. Rose’s knife wavered shakily, a confused expression on the girl’s face. Val’s sword lowered to the ground, his face also showing his confusion. The maids and the butler upon Tess’ sudden movement inside promptly dropped their impromptu weapons and dashed to hide behind the dining room table. “Aunt Tess?” Raven asked quietly. Her eyes could see it indeed was the bard, but her mind was still confused. The bard stepped forward again, and now there was no doubt. Behind her streamed in armed men clad in the colors of a city watch that Raven didn’t recognize, even more clad in black robes... and one familiar face. [i]Eyrna Erelion?[/i] Raven’s mind looked at the disheveled black-haired woman in the midst of the dark cloaks. [i]Why is she here!?[/i] Rage started to fill in Raven’s mind, remembering how this entire mess began. [i]That... that... bitch! Why did she do that, and start this!?[/i] Eyrna herself had been looking forward to this moment with nothing less than complete dread. [i]So this is my punishment... to see the Prince and his ‘friend’ again...[/i] she inwardly had scowled. [i]Will Tesseron turn me over to him for... exile? No... she is more honorable than that... I have no doubt I shall have my life... but what kind of life will he leave me with?[/i] His mother’s fury was legendary, and in the short space of two weeks, she’d done more to injure this young dragon than many in the previous sixteen years of his life. “You...” she saw the Dice girl... [i]Raven, I think[/i], lunge towards her. Eyrna saw the sword in her hand, and the murder that was dancing in her eyes. The noblewoman expected to feel a momentary blast of steel and then an eternal nothing, but to her surprise, the bard stepped in the girl’s path. “No, Raven,” she heard the bard say, “there will be no shedding of blood this day. Far too much will be shed on her account.” A small, tiny part of Eyrna wanted to gloat towards the Dice girl. Her common sense intervened, however. [i]Contrite should be the order of this day... at least for now,[/i] her astute mind reasoned. With a great deal of self control, she did not respond to the girl’s rage... indeed she did not even look up at her. [i]Tesseron has shown me much more kindness... perhaps that will be her downfall, as well as the downfall of this motley group.[/i] No amount of kindness would bring her father back... or set the wrong that it should have been her father on the Imperial throne...[/i] Hemmel ducked his head a little lower, his hand reaching over the vendor’s table and picking up a rather ornate and useless butterknife. “This one looks like its worth quite a bit,” the assassin observed, his improvised village drawl coming out perfectly. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as various cloaks and hoods slipped into the day’s business crowds, having observed the panic signal. “It is, sir!” the young man selling the various knifes and tableware at this stall agreed eagerly. “Its fluting design was done by Master Xederla, the famed bladesmith!” [i]I have never heard of a master bladesmith with a name like Xederla,[/i] Hemmel grumbled in his mind, [i]And no famous bladesmith would be carving mere butterknives![/i] The assessment of the salesman’s attempts at lying were a welcome distraction, to keep him from sweating up, or otherwise showing his guilty visage. [i]Why are so many Hieroneous paladins about?[/i] Hemmel asked as the tramp of their boots echoed through the crowded stalls of the marketplace. He felt a push forward into the booth in front of him, as the crowds behind him pushed him forward to make way. Seeing the rest of hte crowd turning to gape, Hemmel freely joined them. [i]Twelve paladins... one of whom is clad in the armor of a Commander,[/i] Hemmel counted quietly. [i]That’s far more fighting power than I would normally tangle with... where are they headed?[/i] His mind ran through the possible destinations, and he gave a slight smile. [i]They cannot be headed to the Pelor Temple... Pelor’s own paladins protect that... Too bad that’s where we are headed...[/i] he smiled, before turning back to the knife salesman. Ananias looked around, and gave a blinding smile. It felt good to feel the life force draining out of a creature again. He turned down to look at the kicking, struggling man, a sun disk on a necklace flying about as he desperately bucked and twisted, trying to remove Ananias’ hand from his throat. “Your god will protect you... surely,” Ananias smiled darkly, remembering the clerics that had deserted him so many years before in the face of the Empire. “I can feel Pelor’s power right now,” he hissed, eyes wide in delight. The poor man underneath him struggled only a few more moments, his eyes bulging with the exertion. When he fell silent with a dull finality, Ananias released his body, feeling refreshed. “Excellent!” he heard the dark elf’s voice in the woods to his left. Ananias turned, and watched as the air seemed to shimmer, before the drow seemed to coalesced out of nowhere. “We shall pattern our disguises after him! Accurate down to the holy symbol itself!” Ananias’ smile dimmed somewhat... he had already made it known he was not keen on [i]polymorphing[/i], even temporarily, into a cleric of Pelor. But Elsidor’s logic was undefeatable... clerics and paladins of Pelor were the only ones going into the temple that would not be thoroughly questioned upon requesting to enter their ‘lower vaults.’ [i]They likely don’t even know what treasure they have! And to think that it was the Emperor himself that sent those items there![/i] Ananias thought it was the greatest irony. Elsidor had told him what had happened... how the Countess had tried to rise up to overthrow the Empire and been brutally repressed... the staff destroyed, save the Fire Stone. [i]Part of the lost jewels of Zoe, handed over by her brother to the paladins of Pelor to thank them for destroying my great-great-granddaughter![/i] The last part stung the most... how the Emperors of Iskeldrun had so callously destroyed his family line, and his life’s work... the staff. That all would soon be avenged, in good time. The Countess Lucilda, her infant son Lucius... they both shall see the light of day once again, after he had shattered the Empire that had so vilely destroyed them. The undead king had already begun making plans of what he would do once he was properly seated on the Throne of Emperors. His first order of business would be to hunt down that silver dragon... Xanadu... Elsidor’s chatter interrupted the king’s daydream. “...and you would think Holstean would be the appropriate place for Your Majesty to declare your ancestry, and the new order... with myself as your Chamberlain and right hand assistant, of course,” the drow smiled. Ananias had the urge to frown. The drow had raised him from his end, true, but [i]something[/i] about him didn’t seem right. [i]He means to dominate me,[/i] Ananias had decided eventually. [i]That will never happen![/i] “Of course, my friend. I always trust your advice,” Ananias reached back to his former life as a noble, and lied with a sincere smile on his lips. He gave a slight bow, before turning and looking at the brick walls looming in the distance. He heard a few arcane words come from the drow, and felt his skin twist, growing pale in color, his robes changing to a traveler’s leathers... and a small sun disk hanging from his neck. “I think it is time, my friend, that we go visit some of our comrades at Pelor’s Temple,” Ananias said, pleased at the deeper, more resonant voice of his disguise. Little did he know the chain of events that was about to unfold... [/QUOTE]
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