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<blockquote data-quote="Lazlow" data-source="post: 3311881" data-attributes="member: 24242"><p><strong>A cleansing, and a walk</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkOrchid">"Let's slip back out the way we came. 'Twould behoove us to avoid any contact at this point."</span></p><p></p><p>Romanna leads the way back out through the front gate and follows a shepherd's path around the walls of the abbey. The high stone edifice towers ruefully in the dank drizzle, rivulets of water cascading down its rocky sides and collecting in larger streams at the base, making a muddy flow of the path. At about the midpoint of this wall, Romanna stops and asks you to stretch out your hand.</p><p></p><p>She pulls out the tiny sack of diamond dust, pinches out about a third of it, then replaces it in one of her belt pouches. Sprinkling the fine powder over your hand, she raises her other hand, palm side up, closes her eyes, and murmurs a prayer in a language you don't quite recognize, although you hear the name of her god and what you think sounded like an ancient word for 'cleansing'. A warm glow engulfs your finger, blocking out the oppressive cold of the rain, and slowly the black taint vanishes. The warmth of the magic spreads throughout your body, finally dissapating at the top of your head and the tips of your toes, and you feel, quite frankly, amazing.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkOrange"><em>Wow... Even <strong>I</strong> felt that.</em></span></p><p></p><p>Clasping her hands and bowing, she gives a quick thanks and examines your finger, nodding and pulling you back along onto the trail. <span style="color: DarkOrchid">"Looks well enough now. I'm lucky, though, that it hadn't spread much more. I don't know how much of that... Evil... My own expertise can handle. I certainly couldn't handle that other poor fellow."</span></p><p></p><p>She walks on a while in silence, then says, <span style="color: DarkOrchid">"But if this is something that is infecting this island, we need to be on our toes. Watch your step, here."</span> She hops over a largish puddle and up onto a stone walkway that marks the far side of the abbey, and connects with the cart road that leads to the lighthouse. <span style="color: DarkOrchid">"Not far now,"</span> she says, setting out toward the still-darkened tower. As if in response, a low, booming thunder rolls overhead, followed shortly by a crackle of lightning hidden high in the clouds. For a split second your mind wants to welcome the light - but rather than illuminating the landscape it casts an eerie, blue-grey pall over all.</p><p></p><p>You both walk a ways down the road, the sound of the gathering storm hampering conversation more than anything. A few hundred yards down the road curves closer toward the dark, choppy sea, where a low cliff meets the water. Brave tufts of sturdy grass cling to the increasingly rocky terrain, swaying in the wind and rain, which churns the water into tiny whitecaps and whips against half-submerged boulders out past the island's edge. The dark clouds above are virtually impenetrable now; where once you could barely make out the edge of the storm, the rain and darkness has gathered like a blackened curtain surrounding the island, obscuring your vision in all directions now. </p><p></p><p>Suddenly, off to your right, you think you see - feel? - something off in the near distance.</p><p></p><p>Slowing your pace you turn, and quickly scan the waterline. In the blink of another flash of lightning, a hint of movement... </p><p></p><p>Was that a pair of eyes? </p><p></p><p>A splash of water grabs your attention. Focusing, you see nothing... </p><p></p><p>...Well, the water <em>is</em> choppy. Perhaps it was just the rain.</p><p></p><p>Romanna hasn't noticed you and has continued onward, a few feet ahead of you now. With a final scan you return to the path and quicken your pace to catch up. The island is sloping downwards here, slowly coming closer to the water's level, and the grass and earth surrounding the abbey and the road to town is giving way to rocks and sand, driftwood and other island detritus half-buried in beaches strewn with shells. The way is easy, save for the rain, and given other circumstances might make a won-</p><p></p><p>THERE! </p><p></p><p>There, up ahead, the eyes! </p><p></p><p>That was <em>definitely</em> a pair of eyes, but... </p><p></p><p>You focus your concentration on the spot, but there is nothing there now. Turning your concentration inward, you try to recall what details you can about the eyes.</p><p></p><p>Large, dark, unusually round... </p><p></p><p>Lidless... </p><p></p><p>Nowhere near human.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkOrange"><em>Pollock, I'm sensing something... Not right. I don't know what, but... Let's stay alert.</em></span></p><p></p><p><img src="http://img299.imageshack.us/img299/5915/lighthouse1nf2.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>The road takes a final turn and heads straight for the lighthouse, which you can now see clearly. It's a typical design, the base being a large cube, perhaps one story tall, its top ringed by a low, ornate stone bannister. Atop this building sits the cylindrical spire stretching up at least another hundred feet. Small square windows pierce the length of the tower at regular intervals. The flagpoles atop the base are bare, and one lays broken, resting on a lip at the base of the tower. A crude, wooden scaffold-like apparatus clings precariously to the outside of the tower, accessible by a similarly crude rope and bentwood ladder. The tower itself is painted white, hiding the dark stones with which it was built, a single black ring breaking up the stark whiteness of the spire. The sheer side ends with a flared ring of more ornate stonework, from which many small columns protrude all around, supporting the small dome that caps the very top of the tower. It is quite beautiful in its own way, and you wish that you could see it under more favorable circumstances...</p><p></p><p>A flash of lightning briefly illuminates the area and just as suddenly in your mind's eye you see, quite vividly, another tower... No! This same lighthouse! But... From a different vantage point... You're out on the water... No, you're where the water should be, but it's only a foot or so deep... The water is cold, and dark... Very dark... Dark, and writhing... Writhing black tendrils swimming around in the roiling brine making their way up and over the rocks, reaching upward toward the stark white spire on the shoreli-</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkOrchid">"Pollock? Did you hear me? I said, I don't see any lights at all, not even in the keeper's quarters. Something's not right."</span></p><p></p><p>You break out of your reverie and find Romanna looking right at you, waiting for an answer.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazlow, post: 3311881, member: 24242"] [b]A cleansing, and a walk[/b] [COLOR=DarkOrchid]"Let's slip back out the way we came. 'Twould behoove us to avoid any contact at this point."[/COLOR] Romanna leads the way back out through the front gate and follows a shepherd's path around the walls of the abbey. The high stone edifice towers ruefully in the dank drizzle, rivulets of water cascading down its rocky sides and collecting in larger streams at the base, making a muddy flow of the path. At about the midpoint of this wall, Romanna stops and asks you to stretch out your hand. She pulls out the tiny sack of diamond dust, pinches out about a third of it, then replaces it in one of her belt pouches. Sprinkling the fine powder over your hand, she raises her other hand, palm side up, closes her eyes, and murmurs a prayer in a language you don't quite recognize, although you hear the name of her god and what you think sounded like an ancient word for 'cleansing'. A warm glow engulfs your finger, blocking out the oppressive cold of the rain, and slowly the black taint vanishes. The warmth of the magic spreads throughout your body, finally dissapating at the top of your head and the tips of your toes, and you feel, quite frankly, amazing. [COLOR=DarkOrange][I]Wow... Even [B]I[/B] felt that.[/I][/COLOR] Clasping her hands and bowing, she gives a quick thanks and examines your finger, nodding and pulling you back along onto the trail. [COLOR=DarkOrchid]"Looks well enough now. I'm lucky, though, that it hadn't spread much more. I don't know how much of that... Evil... My own expertise can handle. I certainly couldn't handle that other poor fellow."[/color] She walks on a while in silence, then says, [color=DarkOrchid]"But if this is something that is infecting this island, we need to be on our toes. Watch your step, here."[/COLOR] She hops over a largish puddle and up onto a stone walkway that marks the far side of the abbey, and connects with the cart road that leads to the lighthouse. [COLOR=DarkOrchid]"Not far now,"[/COLOR] she says, setting out toward the still-darkened tower. As if in response, a low, booming thunder rolls overhead, followed shortly by a crackle of lightning hidden high in the clouds. For a split second your mind wants to welcome the light - but rather than illuminating the landscape it casts an eerie, blue-grey pall over all. You both walk a ways down the road, the sound of the gathering storm hampering conversation more than anything. A few hundred yards down the road curves closer toward the dark, choppy sea, where a low cliff meets the water. Brave tufts of sturdy grass cling to the increasingly rocky terrain, swaying in the wind and rain, which churns the water into tiny whitecaps and whips against half-submerged boulders out past the island's edge. The dark clouds above are virtually impenetrable now; where once you could barely make out the edge of the storm, the rain and darkness has gathered like a blackened curtain surrounding the island, obscuring your vision in all directions now. Suddenly, off to your right, you think you see - feel? - something off in the near distance. Slowing your pace you turn, and quickly scan the waterline. In the blink of another flash of lightning, a hint of movement... Was that a pair of eyes? A splash of water grabs your attention. Focusing, you see nothing... ...Well, the water [i]is[/i] choppy. Perhaps it was just the rain. Romanna hasn't noticed you and has continued onward, a few feet ahead of you now. With a final scan you return to the path and quicken your pace to catch up. The island is sloping downwards here, slowly coming closer to the water's level, and the grass and earth surrounding the abbey and the road to town is giving way to rocks and sand, driftwood and other island detritus half-buried in beaches strewn with shells. The way is easy, save for the rain, and given other circumstances might make a won- THERE! There, up ahead, the eyes! That was [i]definitely[/i] a pair of eyes, but... You focus your concentration on the spot, but there is nothing there now. Turning your concentration inward, you try to recall what details you can about the eyes. Large, dark, unusually round... Lidless... Nowhere near human. [COLOR=DarkOrange][I]Pollock, I'm sensing something... Not right. I don't know what, but... Let's stay alert.[/I][/COLOR] [IMG]http://img299.imageshack.us/img299/5915/lighthouse1nf2.jpg[/IMG] The road takes a final turn and heads straight for the lighthouse, which you can now see clearly. It's a typical design, the base being a large cube, perhaps one story tall, its top ringed by a low, ornate stone bannister. Atop this building sits the cylindrical spire stretching up at least another hundred feet. Small square windows pierce the length of the tower at regular intervals. The flagpoles atop the base are bare, and one lays broken, resting on a lip at the base of the tower. A crude, wooden scaffold-like apparatus clings precariously to the outside of the tower, accessible by a similarly crude rope and bentwood ladder. The tower itself is painted white, hiding the dark stones with which it was built, a single black ring breaking up the stark whiteness of the spire. The sheer side ends with a flared ring of more ornate stonework, from which many small columns protrude all around, supporting the small dome that caps the very top of the tower. It is quite beautiful in its own way, and you wish that you could see it under more favorable circumstances... A flash of lightning briefly illuminates the area and just as suddenly in your mind's eye you see, quite vividly, another tower... No! This same lighthouse! But... From a different vantage point... You're out on the water... No, you're where the water should be, but it's only a foot or so deep... The water is cold, and dark... Very dark... Dark, and writhing... Writhing black tendrils swimming around in the roiling brine making their way up and over the rocks, reaching upward toward the stark white spire on the shoreli- [COLOR=DarkOrchid]"Pollock? Did you hear me? I said, I don't see any lights at all, not even in the keeper's quarters. Something's not right."[/COLOR] You break out of your reverie and find Romanna looking right at you, waiting for an answer. [/QUOTE]
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