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Into the Icy Darkness II: The Next Generation
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<blockquote data-quote="Emperor Valerian" data-source="post: 1683480" data-attributes="member: 15043"><p>Oh, I don't mind the cluttering. Thank you for the compliments, and glad to hear from some of the people reading. (I know people are reading... I haven't viewed this thread 500 someodd times by myself <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /> )</p><p></p><p>= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = </p><p></p><p>Is this truly wise?” Eyrna heard Vanerthorpe’s voice ask from behind her. The man’s hawk-shaped face was framed by the green of the woods they now slipped through. Once again, the noblewoman saw the nose of the tall bard beside her flare, before turning to confront the annoying man.</p><p></p><p>“It is, sir,” Tess replied coldly. Her tone conveyed to everyone that she was starting to get annoyed with Vanerthorpe’s antics.</p><p></p><p>The hooded ranger’s attempts to cow and threaten Eyrna the first night had plainly angered Tess... and his ignorance of her hints and eventual demands that he stop angered her more. These last few days, he had begun questioning her choice to abandon the Caladron family tombs, in favor of moving immediately towards Holstean, then Kulloden.</p><p></p><p>Part of Eyrna wanted to smile at seeing Vanerthorpe shrink back. The girl held no illusions that Tesseron was a champion under her banner, or that the bard would defend her from all who would threaten; less adept minds might have jumped to that conclusion, but within Eyrna’s head was still one of the better political minds within the Empire. </p><p><em>She’ll likely turn me into the Imperial government... her reputation is for honor and righteousness guarantees that,</em> the noblewoman had already realized. </p><p></p><p>“What if they were merely late? What if this little one has lied to get us away from them?” Vanerthorpe’s voice asked again as the noises of birds and animals continued around them in cheerful irony. At this, Eyrna was not surprised to see Tesseron suddenly stop... indeed, she’d been expecting this for the past day or so.</p><p></p><p>“Do you think you would do a better job in charge, Vanerthorpe Eldyr, son of Japes?” Tess said coolly, her face devoid of emotion, only the ice of her voice conveying the very real threat. Eyrna could easily imagine the air coming from the Baroness’ lips wafting in chilly clouds over the ignorant man’s face.</p><p></p><p>“I would never suggest such a thing, Baroness,” Vanerthorpe tried to backpedal, now realizing how far he’d pushed the powerful bard. “It is merely that you seem headed for something important towards the north, and we know of one vital goal Elsidor needs to succeed. That goal isn’t in...”</p><p></p><p>Tesseron took a deep breath, and for a second, Eyrna thought she would quickly witness the end of Vanerthorpe. Legends of Tesseron’s dedication to right had also included legends of her power... powers that would have made even the most powerful mages shudder in wonder.</p><p></p><p>“Do you wish to know what is in Kulloden!?” the bard snapped, stopping her northward march. The undercurrent of anger that had been rising the previous two days suddenly broke through her resolve. “Do you really want to know?! The Crown Prince is in Kulloden! That is why we must get there as quickly as possible!”</p><p></p><p>At this, Eyrna’s eyes went wide. The memory of Valaron at the ball... angry and haughty in some ways, came back to Eyrna’s mind. <em>So he is so close...</em></p><p></p><p>“Baroness, is it wise?” Constans asked quietly, nodding towards Eyrna. The bard’s furious face glanced at the girl, and gave a sickening growl.</p><p></p><p>“Does she have an army? Do you see a blade on her?” Tess said after a few seconds of silence. “She cannot hurt him more than any of you. Now... cease your prattle!” the bard barked in command, “we have to get to Holstean and raise the alarm!”</p><p></p><p>“Alarm against what? If they raised Ananias, it is but one creature we fight... and we have the great bard on our side! What should we fear?” Vanerthorpe said, a nervous smile accompanying the flattery on his lips.</p><p></p><p>“You know not what you speak,” Tess growled, turning with a huff to finish the last few hours journey to Holstean. </p><p></p><p><em>In Holstean, we can send some messengers to Vintressa in Iskeldrun... as well as teleport all of them to Kulloden,</em> Tess’ plan reflected in her mind. <em>I would teleport ahead, but Evermyn seems to have less and less control over this band of... people,</em> her mind picked a word just above ‘ruffians.’ <em>I can scarcely trust them to not blurt out that I was at the tombs, or anything else. They must be close by.</em></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>It was the second day of a new world for Ananias.</p><p></p><p>The first was bleary, confused, a series of lights and muffled sounds that he could not understand or decipher. His mind screamed at him he was still under attack, that the bloody woman was still running at him, screaming, that knife above her head. He found his arms, powerful as they were, would not respond. His mouth could not open. His wings could not move.</p><p></p><p>This day, it was all different.</p><p></p><p>“My Lord Ananias,” a deep voice greeted his first clear sights and sounds... the dark green of trees. In the distance, he saw a familiar form, one he hadn’t seen in over two centuries...</p><p></p><p>The outside of White Spine Mountain.</p><p></p><p>He attempted to jerk his hands free, to find the interloper that addressed him so casually, only to feel his hands held by something immense and powerful, yet invisible even to his magical eyes. He twisted, hard, to feel the same powerful, immovable thing holding him in place. </p><p></p><p>“You have been bound, with some of the most powerful arcane imaginable. I am afraid you should cease your struggle, before your form becomes injured,” the voice said, before a dark face with blazing white eyes came into view. He felt a finger lightly touch either end of his mouth, and the immovable force seemed to vanish from his lips. To his surprise, he felt his mouth open reflexively, the muscles burning as if they had been locked in a closed position for quite some time...</p><p></p><p><em>But I am dead! I am an ice demon... I can rest my sinews as I see fit, and they do not scream in pain as thus! How... why?</em></p><p></p><p>He took a deep breath, and as he breathed out, he felt the air rushing over something in his throat. A groan came out... another noise that surprised his mind.</p><p></p><p>“You may speak, my lord,” the man hovering above. “After you have had your peace, I shall explain to you why you are this way.”</p><p></p><p>“Who... are... you?” Ananias found yet another surprise. His voice was raspy and thin, not the deep, resonating thunder of an ice avalanche like he remembered from his last form. <em>What AM I?</em></p><p></p><p>“My name is Elsidor, we have never had the pleasure of meeting, Your Highness,” the creature said. As Ananias looked back through his memories, he realized what was staring at him.</p><p></p><p>A dark elf.</p><p></p><p>“Why... am... I... thus?” Ananias heard his strange voice rasp out again. <em>It is almost as if I am alive again. My voice in life was this way, after the first battle...</em> Memories once again flooded back to him... the banners of Iskeldrun dancing in the wind ahead of him, his own falcon banners fluttering above his own head. A shout, a roar, and the thunder of a mailed surge crashing together...</p><p></p><p>“I have need of you. And I believe we can reach an amicable agreement... if you assist me, I shall assist you,” the dark elf smiled. “It appears you are bound by powerful magic... magic I can rid you of. In return, I need a certain object from you... it is about the size of two fists, and red...”</p><p></p><p>“Ah...the...Fire...Stone,” Ananias replied, feeling his voice growing a little stronger. His mind was now absorbing the other sensations flowing over him. The feel of the breeze blowing over his body. The slight tickling on an arm... which Ananias eventually placed as likely a fly. By the chill all over his body, the once King assumed he was naked. “Why...do...you...want...this?” Ananias asked. <em>It brought me to my doom... once SHE took the staff!</em></p><p></p><p>“Simply put, King Ananias,” the dark elf replied, using the man’s proper title, “I wish to destroy the Empire of Iskeldrun, something you tried to do when you were alive,” the face disappeared from his view, though the voice continued, “and after your conversion from living flesh into demonic corruption. I know this.” The voice continued, “I know how the Empire stole your victory from you... and after you chased them so long, how you were undercut by them... that they stole the staff from you!”</p><p></p><p><em>The staff...</em> Ananias went back to the long, black shaft of iron that had been his power... and his bane. Its voice, persuasive and cool, echoed in his mind, almost as if it was calling him. <em>But it is not,</em> Ananias recognized sadly. The call was merely a shadow of the voice he had heard so many times in life, as a sunflower gave pale reflection to its namesake’s glory. There was no guidance now, no clear call to action, no warning of what traps, what plans, and what deceptions lay ahead.</p><p></p><p>“Surely you still wish vengeance on them?” the dark elf’s voice asked. “You merely need to give me the Fire Stone.”</p><p></p><p>Dark rage built in Ananias’ heart, as he remembered past the mailed fist that had slammed into him as his banners flew overhead. The screams, the pain. His keep, burning. His wife and three children carried off by steel monsters clad in the livery of the white and gold, dragons emblazoned on their chests...</p><p></p><p>And then his mind found itself, and suppressed the rage for his lips could move... his former senses, his suspicions, his reactions honed from years on an iron throne came flooding back. <em>What does this drow want with the Fire Stone? Why would he promise so much for it? Can he deliver on his promises?</em></p><p></p><p>“Why should I trust you?” he said, his voice halting, but faster than before. “I scarcely know you, yet you promise me the fall of Iskeldrun. Why should a bare man trust a skulker promising him that mountains can be moved, and seas lifted into the skies?”</p><p></p><p>“Ah... wise words,” the drow replied. “Simply, this drow shares cause with you, and an enemy of an enemy is a friend in dire times. That, and this ‘skulker’ raised your form not only from the dead, but back into your original, kingly form. A form worthy to sit on the Dragon Throne itself, and put fear in the hearts of those currently there, and the mighty silver dragon that is their guardian. I believe you and this Xanadu are old acquaintances, are you not? Does not the falcon of your House deserve to fly from the banners of the Dragon’s Palace?”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Emperor Valerian, post: 1683480, member: 15043"] Oh, I don't mind the cluttering. Thank you for the compliments, and glad to hear from some of the people reading. (I know people are reading... I haven't viewed this thread 500 someodd times by myself :) ) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Is this truly wise?” Eyrna heard Vanerthorpe’s voice ask from behind her. The man’s hawk-shaped face was framed by the green of the woods they now slipped through. Once again, the noblewoman saw the nose of the tall bard beside her flare, before turning to confront the annoying man. “It is, sir,” Tess replied coldly. Her tone conveyed to everyone that she was starting to get annoyed with Vanerthorpe’s antics. The hooded ranger’s attempts to cow and threaten Eyrna the first night had plainly angered Tess... and his ignorance of her hints and eventual demands that he stop angered her more. These last few days, he had begun questioning her choice to abandon the Caladron family tombs, in favor of moving immediately towards Holstean, then Kulloden. Part of Eyrna wanted to smile at seeing Vanerthorpe shrink back. The girl held no illusions that Tesseron was a champion under her banner, or that the bard would defend her from all who would threaten; less adept minds might have jumped to that conclusion, but within Eyrna’s head was still one of the better political minds within the Empire. [i]She’ll likely turn me into the Imperial government... her reputation is for honor and righteousness guarantees that,[/i] the noblewoman had already realized. “What if they were merely late? What if this little one has lied to get us away from them?” Vanerthorpe’s voice asked again as the noises of birds and animals continued around them in cheerful irony. At this, Eyrna was not surprised to see Tesseron suddenly stop... indeed, she’d been expecting this for the past day or so. “Do you think you would do a better job in charge, Vanerthorpe Eldyr, son of Japes?” Tess said coolly, her face devoid of emotion, only the ice of her voice conveying the very real threat. Eyrna could easily imagine the air coming from the Baroness’ lips wafting in chilly clouds over the ignorant man’s face. “I would never suggest such a thing, Baroness,” Vanerthorpe tried to backpedal, now realizing how far he’d pushed the powerful bard. “It is merely that you seem headed for something important towards the north, and we know of one vital goal Elsidor needs to succeed. That goal isn’t in...” Tesseron took a deep breath, and for a second, Eyrna thought she would quickly witness the end of Vanerthorpe. Legends of Tesseron’s dedication to right had also included legends of her power... powers that would have made even the most powerful mages shudder in wonder. “Do you wish to know what is in Kulloden!?” the bard snapped, stopping her northward march. The undercurrent of anger that had been rising the previous two days suddenly broke through her resolve. “Do you really want to know?! The Crown Prince is in Kulloden! That is why we must get there as quickly as possible!” At this, Eyrna’s eyes went wide. The memory of Valaron at the ball... angry and haughty in some ways, came back to Eyrna’s mind. [i]So he is so close...[/i] “Baroness, is it wise?” Constans asked quietly, nodding towards Eyrna. The bard’s furious face glanced at the girl, and gave a sickening growl. “Does she have an army? Do you see a blade on her?” Tess said after a few seconds of silence. “She cannot hurt him more than any of you. Now... cease your prattle!” the bard barked in command, “we have to get to Holstean and raise the alarm!” “Alarm against what? If they raised Ananias, it is but one creature we fight... and we have the great bard on our side! What should we fear?” Vanerthorpe said, a nervous smile accompanying the flattery on his lips. “You know not what you speak,” Tess growled, turning with a huff to finish the last few hours journey to Holstean. [i]In Holstean, we can send some messengers to Vintressa in Iskeldrun... as well as teleport all of them to Kulloden,[/i] Tess’ plan reflected in her mind. [i]I would teleport ahead, but Evermyn seems to have less and less control over this band of... people,[/i] her mind picked a word just above ‘ruffians.’ [i]I can scarcely trust them to not blurt out that I was at the tombs, or anything else. They must be close by.[/i] It was the second day of a new world for Ananias. The first was bleary, confused, a series of lights and muffled sounds that he could not understand or decipher. His mind screamed at him he was still under attack, that the bloody woman was still running at him, screaming, that knife above her head. He found his arms, powerful as they were, would not respond. His mouth could not open. His wings could not move. This day, it was all different. “My Lord Ananias,” a deep voice greeted his first clear sights and sounds... the dark green of trees. In the distance, he saw a familiar form, one he hadn’t seen in over two centuries... The outside of White Spine Mountain. He attempted to jerk his hands free, to find the interloper that addressed him so casually, only to feel his hands held by something immense and powerful, yet invisible even to his magical eyes. He twisted, hard, to feel the same powerful, immovable thing holding him in place. “You have been bound, with some of the most powerful arcane imaginable. I am afraid you should cease your struggle, before your form becomes injured,” the voice said, before a dark face with blazing white eyes came into view. He felt a finger lightly touch either end of his mouth, and the immovable force seemed to vanish from his lips. To his surprise, he felt his mouth open reflexively, the muscles burning as if they had been locked in a closed position for quite some time... [i]But I am dead! I am an ice demon... I can rest my sinews as I see fit, and they do not scream in pain as thus! How... why?[/i] He took a deep breath, and as he breathed out, he felt the air rushing over something in his throat. A groan came out... another noise that surprised his mind. “You may speak, my lord,” the man hovering above. “After you have had your peace, I shall explain to you why you are this way.” “Who... are... you?” Ananias found yet another surprise. His voice was raspy and thin, not the deep, resonating thunder of an ice avalanche like he remembered from his last form. [i]What AM I?[/i] “My name is Elsidor, we have never had the pleasure of meeting, Your Highness,” the creature said. As Ananias looked back through his memories, he realized what was staring at him. A dark elf. “Why... am... I... thus?” Ananias heard his strange voice rasp out again. [i]It is almost as if I am alive again. My voice in life was this way, after the first battle...[/i] Memories once again flooded back to him... the banners of Iskeldrun dancing in the wind ahead of him, his own falcon banners fluttering above his own head. A shout, a roar, and the thunder of a mailed surge crashing together... “I have need of you. And I believe we can reach an amicable agreement... if you assist me, I shall assist you,” the dark elf smiled. “It appears you are bound by powerful magic... magic I can rid you of. In return, I need a certain object from you... it is about the size of two fists, and red...” “Ah...the...Fire...Stone,” Ananias replied, feeling his voice growing a little stronger. His mind was now absorbing the other sensations flowing over him. The feel of the breeze blowing over his body. The slight tickling on an arm... which Ananias eventually placed as likely a fly. By the chill all over his body, the once King assumed he was naked. “Why...do...you...want...this?” Ananias asked. [i]It brought me to my doom... once SHE took the staff![/i] “Simply put, King Ananias,” the dark elf replied, using the man’s proper title, “I wish to destroy the Empire of Iskeldrun, something you tried to do when you were alive,” the face disappeared from his view, though the voice continued, “and after your conversion from living flesh into demonic corruption. I know this.” The voice continued, “I know how the Empire stole your victory from you... and after you chased them so long, how you were undercut by them... that they stole the staff from you!” [i]The staff...[/i] Ananias went back to the long, black shaft of iron that had been his power... and his bane. Its voice, persuasive and cool, echoed in his mind, almost as if it was calling him. [i]But it is not,[/i] Ananias recognized sadly. The call was merely a shadow of the voice he had heard so many times in life, as a sunflower gave pale reflection to its namesake’s glory. There was no guidance now, no clear call to action, no warning of what traps, what plans, and what deceptions lay ahead. “Surely you still wish vengeance on them?” the dark elf’s voice asked. “You merely need to give me the Fire Stone.” Dark rage built in Ananias’ heart, as he remembered past the mailed fist that had slammed into him as his banners flew overhead. The screams, the pain. His keep, burning. His wife and three children carried off by steel monsters clad in the livery of the white and gold, dragons emblazoned on their chests... And then his mind found itself, and suppressed the rage for his lips could move... his former senses, his suspicions, his reactions honed from years on an iron throne came flooding back. [i]What does this drow want with the Fire Stone? Why would he promise so much for it? Can he deliver on his promises?[/i] “Why should I trust you?” he said, his voice halting, but faster than before. “I scarcely know you, yet you promise me the fall of Iskeldrun. Why should a bare man trust a skulker promising him that mountains can be moved, and seas lifted into the skies?” “Ah... wise words,” the drow replied. “Simply, this drow shares cause with you, and an enemy of an enemy is a friend in dire times. That, and this ‘skulker’ raised your form not only from the dead, but back into your original, kingly form. A form worthy to sit on the Dragon Throne itself, and put fear in the hearts of those currently there, and the mighty silver dragon that is their guardian. I believe you and this Xanadu are old acquaintances, are you not? Does not the falcon of your House deserve to fly from the banners of the Dragon’s Palace?” [/QUOTE]
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