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Curse of Darkness VI - The Valley of the Sun
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<blockquote data-quote="Greenfield" data-source="post: 5926970" data-attributes="member: 6669384"><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">***</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Wounded and tired, the companions made their way back up the weaving path of corridors and stairs to the central chamber. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Somehow, I think we missed the place where we were supposed to destroy the blade.", Penn kept saying.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><em>"Are you sure you want to?"</em></span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Of course. It's what we came here for. Apellenea died trying to do this.", Penn replied.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Who are you talking to?", Marcus asked, giving the Bard an odd look.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"What? Didn't you just ask...", he began, then his voice trailed off. The voice he'd been talking to hadn't come from any of the people present. "We need to get rid of this thing, now.", he finished.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><em>"But why? Why not use it on the Plutonians?"</em></span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Shut up!", Penn muttered, trying to keep his voice low.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I think we're being followed.", Euphemia hissed, looking back down the corridor.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Then let's turn it into a chase.", Nedel replied, urging his friends to pick up the pace. They had no magic left, and were all but dragging their feet with exhaustion. While running seemed unthinkable, another battle would be worse. They managed to work up to a lumbering trot, but that was it.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">They climbed the last set of stairs and entered the altar room.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Things had changed. While the cunning design of the room had channeled sunlight in before, now the room was fairly bursting with light trying to flow outward. It was like luminous honey, pouring, flowing, streaming thick through one's fingers yet offering no resistance to movement at all.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The wellspring of this glory was the altar, which pulsed with power, the heartbeat of the deity himself. The center of the altar stone, where there had once been a shallow bowl carved into the marble to receive sacrifices, now bore a long narrow depression, shaped like a sword.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">" </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><em>Stay away from there, it looks dangerous.</em>", Penn warned, then realized that the words were not his, even though they had crossed his lips. His companions were looking at him as if he had gone mad, and he struggled to speak for himself. He failed.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">" </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><em>Run, before the place explodes!</em>", commanded the non-Penn voice, but the companions stood their ground. They saw the torment in the Bard's eyes. The Betrayer's Blade had taken control of his greatest weapon, his voice, and he was powerless to take it back.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">But he realized that his body was still his own. Quickly he shed his pack and drew out the small wooden chest. It opened at his touch, and the blade lay there, drinking in the power that flowed through the room. All he had to do was pick it up and place it on the altar. He reached for it and...</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">...and realized that that was exactly what the Blade wanted. If he once took that weapon in his hand, he'd never be able to put it down. He grabbed at the iron tongs, the ones used to place the Blade in the coffer, and hefted the cursed weapon out of its confinement.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The Blade changed form almost at once, becoming an immense two handed tournament blade, too large and unbalanced to lift with the narrow tongs. Penn dragged it instead. </span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then it became a whip, soft and supple, threatening to slide out of the grip of the cold iron, snaking across the floor in search of something to hold onto, but the companions all stood back, leaving it no purchase.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">" </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><em>Fool! I can win this war for you!</em>", the voice echoed. "<em>The followers of the underworld god want this darkness to last forever.</em>", it cried, shifting form again and again in a struggle to win free, or to topple the Bard with the shifting weight. "<em>Don't let them win!</em>"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">With staggering steps the one who was neither man nor beast rounded the end of the altar, and dragged his burden up and onto the stone table. Once there, it snapped to its true form, the form in which it was forged, a graceful battle blade, crafted for the hand of a god. And a perfect fit for the altar of a god.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">As the blade slid into the receptacle made for it, it too blazed with light, and the power of all the souls it had harvested poured out.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The light now had a direction, and roared like a river in a column that rose to, and passed through the ceiling of the hall. Though the stone above remained intact, the companions could see through it somehow, see that pillar of light lance up to the heavens themselves, and join with the sun above. Apollo was calling that power back to himself.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The entire valley shook, violently, then went still.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The companions found themselves on the ground, and began to rise. Then they saw the towering figure in luminous gold who filled the center of the chamber, and decided that their current position was probably the best one. </span> </p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">"Well done, my children. Many were concerned that you weren't ready, but time pressed and the enemies gathered. Your sacrifices are appreciated, and for better or for worse, the forces on both sides of this struggle are now aware of you and the role you are destined to play."</span>, the deity said in a voice like a warm summer day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"What exactly did we do?", Marcus asked, being the first to find his tongue.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">"You freed the lost souls, and sent them on to their proper place in the afterlife. And, in so doing, you added to my strength. There are many sun gods, and you have just confirmed that I am first among them. Ra, of the Pharo's lands, now bows his head to me. Frey of the frozen north salutes me even as I salute you. Each of them had champions on similar quests, and those quests are still of value, but by finishing first you have helped assure my survival, and ultimately my victory."</span></span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Victory? You mean that the curse will now be lifted?"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">"Yes. It will take time, but my light will grace the world once more."</span></span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Um, how much time?", Penn asked, careful to avert his eyes as he spoke.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">"A few millennia, no more.</span> </span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">, came the almost casual reply. <span style="color: red">"The time of change is upon the world, and that takes time. Frey calls it the Fimbulwinter. We call it The Twilight. It will pass, in time."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Um, not to be disrespectful or ungrateful, but is there any way we could end the curse more quickly?"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">" </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">Of course. There are other steps, other quests, and the enemy will not falter in their efforts either. They will try to undo what you've done, or delay the victory you've won. The work of mortal hands is far from finished. But today is not the day to concern ourselves with such things. Today is a day of celebration. Even the enemy acknowledges this victory, and so there is peace in the heavens for this brief span. I am restricted from direct interference in the mortal conflicts, but I am the patron of prophets and seers, and may share with you the gift of knowledge. Ask what you will, and I will answer if I can.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Marcus gathered himself and asked the question that had shaped his life. "Are you my brother? Mother said that Jupiter came to her in the night, and that I am his child. Is this true?"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The god frowned. " </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">My brother? Not exactly. It's complicated, and is in truth a question you should ask of Jupiter himself."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Marcus smiled quietly to himself, for in not answering the question, the god had in fact answered it. He hadn't said "no".</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Penn wavered, for he had a similar question about his own father, who he had never met. But there were more important matters. "How will we know these other quests you mentioned? Will there be a sign, some guide to help direct us?"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">" </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">Yes, child of Pan, there is. You will know the path by ~~~~~~"</span>, he finished, speaking words that only the Bard's ears could hear. Penn took little notice of the "child of Pan" reference, for all of the Satyr bloodline could trace their heritage back to the god of the pipes.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Cassius was next. "We've been told that Asmodeus, the ruler of the Nine Hells, has declared alliance with the gods, and that Orcus and Demogorgon stand among your foes. Are there any other unexpected, um..."</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">"What you have heard is true, at least for the moment. Some suspect the trickster of the north will change sides, but nothing is clear. There is and has been treachery in the heavens, and it may not be over yet.</span></span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Sylus asked about the future of his people in Gaul, but like the words spoken to Penn, none could hear the reply. He seemed troubled by the answer, but chose not to share it.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">"What is your name, child, and what is your request?"</span> </span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">, the god asked of the nameless Wizardess.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"My name is Imagina, and I'm not sure I'm part of any 'prophesy'. I just met these people. But if you're offering, could you teach me the secret of the blasting fire?"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">Child, you are part of the prophesy. Whether you choose to continue on that path is up to you. As for your request..."</span> </span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">, the god declared, then raised his hand. Sunfire lanced from his fingertip into the book she was holding. She dropped it as it suddenly blazed with his power, and on the page exposed, she saw a spell written, burned into the vellum by the god's divine power.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then Apollo nodded, beaming with happiness. </span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><span style="color: red">"Your path from here is simple. The western road that brought you here is closed, but the southern road is straight and open. And though my prophetic abilities are limited by the war, I believe you'll find a Bacchanal waiting for you.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">And with that, he faded, leaving the room bathed in warm sunlight.</span> </p><p> </p><p> </p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Greenfield, post: 5926970, member: 6669384"] [FONT=Arial]*** Wounded and tired, the companions made their way back up the weaving path of corridors and stairs to the central chamber. "Somehow, I think we missed the place where we were supposed to destroy the blade.", Penn kept saying.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [I]"Are you sure you want to?"[/I][/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Of course. It's what we came here for. Apellenea died trying to do this.", Penn replied.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Who are you talking to?", Marcus asked, giving the Bard an odd look.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "What? Didn't you just ask...", he began, then his voice trailed off. The voice he'd been talking to hadn't come from any of the people present. "We need to get rid of this thing, now.", he finished.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [I]"But why? Why not use it on the Plutonians?"[/I][/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Shut up!", Penn muttered, trying to keep his voice low.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "I think we're being followed.", Euphemia hissed, looking back down the corridor.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Then let's turn it into a chase.", Nedel replied, urging his friends to pick up the pace. They had no magic left, and were all but dragging their feet with exhaustion. While running seemed unthinkable, another battle would be worse. They managed to work up to a lumbering trot, but that was it.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] They climbed the last set of stairs and entered the altar room.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Things had changed. While the cunning design of the room had channeled sunlight in before, now the room was fairly bursting with light trying to flow outward. It was like luminous honey, pouring, flowing, streaming thick through one's fingers yet offering no resistance to movement at all.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The wellspring of this glory was the altar, which pulsed with power, the heartbeat of the deity himself. The center of the altar stone, where there had once been a shallow bowl carved into the marble to receive sacrifices, now bore a long narrow depression, shaped like a sword.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] " [/FONT][FONT=Arial][I]Stay away from there, it looks dangerous.[/I]", Penn warned, then realized that the words were not his, even though they had crossed his lips. His companions were looking at him as if he had gone mad, and he struggled to speak for himself. He failed. " [/FONT][FONT=Arial][I]Run, before the place explodes![/I]", commanded the non-Penn voice, but the companions stood their ground. They saw the torment in the Bard's eyes. The Betrayer's Blade had taken control of his greatest weapon, his voice, and he was powerless to take it back. But he realized that his body was still his own. Quickly he shed his pack and drew out the small wooden chest. It opened at his touch, and the blade lay there, drinking in the power that flowed through the room. All he had to do was pick it up and place it on the altar. He reached for it and...[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] ...and realized that that was exactly what the Blade wanted. If he once took that weapon in his hand, he'd never be able to put it down. He grabbed at the iron tongs, the ones used to place the Blade in the coffer, and hefted the cursed weapon out of its confinement.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The Blade changed form almost at once, becoming an immense two handed tournament blade, too large and unbalanced to lift with the narrow tongs. Penn dragged it instead. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Then it became a whip, soft and supple, threatening to slide out of the grip of the cold iron, snaking across the floor in search of something to hold onto, but the companions all stood back, leaving it no purchase.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] " [/FONT][FONT=Arial][I]Fool! I can win this war for you![/I]", the voice echoed. "[I]The followers of the underworld god want this darkness to last forever.[/I]", it cried, shifting form again and again in a struggle to win free, or to topple the Bard with the shifting weight. "[I]Don't let them win![/I]" With staggering steps the one who was neither man nor beast rounded the end of the altar, and dragged his burden up and onto the stone table. Once there, it snapped to its true form, the form in which it was forged, a graceful battle blade, crafted for the hand of a god. And a perfect fit for the altar of a god.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] As the blade slid into the receptacle made for it, it too blazed with light, and the power of all the souls it had harvested poured out.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The light now had a direction, and roared like a river in a column that rose to, and passed through the ceiling of the hall. Though the stone above remained intact, the companions could see through it somehow, see that pillar of light lance up to the heavens themselves, and join with the sun above. Apollo was calling that power back to himself.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The entire valley shook, violently, then went still.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The companions found themselves on the ground, and began to rise. Then they saw the towering figure in luminous gold who filled the center of the chamber, and decided that their current position was probably the best one. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial][COLOR=red]"Well done, my children. Many were concerned that you weren't ready, but time pressed and the enemies gathered. Your sacrifices are appreciated, and for better or for worse, the forces on both sides of this struggle are now aware of you and the role you are destined to play."[/COLOR], the deity said in a voice like a warm summer day. "What exactly did we do?", Marcus asked, being the first to find his tongue.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [COLOR=red]"You freed the lost souls, and sent them on to their proper place in the afterlife. And, in so doing, you added to my strength. There are many sun gods, and you have just confirmed that I am first among them. Ra, of the Pharo's lands, now bows his head to me. Frey of the frozen north salutes me even as I salute you. Each of them had champions on similar quests, and those quests are still of value, but by finishing first you have helped assure my survival, and ultimately my victory."[/COLOR][/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Victory? You mean that the curse will now be lifted?"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [COLOR=red]"Yes. It will take time, but my light will grace the world once more."[/COLOR][/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Um, how much time?", Penn asked, careful to avert his eyes as he spoke.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [COLOR=red]"A few millennia, no more.[/COLOR] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial], came the almost casual reply. [COLOR=red]"The time of change is upon the world, and that takes time. Frey calls it the Fimbulwinter. We call it The Twilight. It will pass, in time."[/COLOR] "Um, not to be disrespectful or ungrateful, but is there any way we could end the curse more quickly?"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] " [/FONT][FONT=Arial][COLOR=red]Of course. There are other steps, other quests, and the enemy will not falter in their efforts either. They will try to undo what you've done, or delay the victory you've won. The work of mortal hands is far from finished. But today is not the day to concern ourselves with such things. Today is a day of celebration. Even the enemy acknowledges this victory, and so there is peace in the heavens for this brief span. I am restricted from direct interference in the mortal conflicts, but I am the patron of prophets and seers, and may share with you the gift of knowledge. Ask what you will, and I will answer if I can.[/COLOR] Marcus gathered himself and asked the question that had shaped his life. "Are you my brother? Mother said that Jupiter came to her in the night, and that I am his child. Is this true?"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The god frowned. " [/FONT][FONT=Arial][COLOR=red]My brother? Not exactly. It's complicated, and is in truth a question you should ask of Jupiter himself."[/COLOR] Marcus smiled quietly to himself, for in not answering the question, the god had in fact answered it. He hadn't said "no".[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Penn wavered, for he had a similar question about his own father, who he had never met. But there were more important matters. "How will we know these other quests you mentioned? Will there be a sign, some guide to help direct us?"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] " [/FONT][FONT=Arial][COLOR=red]Yes, child of Pan, there is. You will know the path by ~~~~~~"[/COLOR], he finished, speaking words that only the Bard's ears could hear. Penn took little notice of the "child of Pan" reference, for all of the Satyr bloodline could trace their heritage back to the god of the pipes. Cassius was next. "We've been told that Asmodeus, the ruler of the Nine Hells, has declared alliance with the gods, and that Orcus and Demogorgon stand among your foes. Are there any other unexpected, um..."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [COLOR=red]"What you have heard is true, at least for the moment. Some suspect the trickster of the north will change sides, but nothing is clear. There is and has been treachery in the heavens, and it may not be over yet.[/COLOR][/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Sylus asked about the future of his people in Gaul, but like the words spoken to Penn, none could hear the reply. He seemed troubled by the answer, but chose not to share it.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [COLOR=red]"What is your name, child, and what is your request?"[/COLOR] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial], the god asked of the nameless Wizardess. "My name is Imagina, and I'm not sure I'm part of any 'prophesy'. I just met these people. But if you're offering, could you teach me the secret of the blasting fire?"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [COLOR=red]Child, you are part of the prophesy. Whether you choose to continue on that path is up to you. As for your request..."[/COLOR] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial], the god declared, then raised his hand. Sunfire lanced from his fingertip into the book she was holding. She dropped it as it suddenly blazed with his power, and on the page exposed, she saw a spell written, burned into the vellum by the god's divine power. Then Apollo nodded, beaming with happiness. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial][COLOR=red]"Your path from here is simple. The western road that brought you here is closed, but the southern road is straight and open. And though my prophetic abilities are limited by the war, I believe you'll find a Bacchanal waiting for you.[/COLOR] And with that, he faded, leaving the room bathed in warm sunlight.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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Curse of Darkness VI - The Valley of the Sun
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