24 msgs on The Feather's Quill * (1) Introduction. * (2) Eclipse, Dance of the Sabres * (3) continued..... * (4) continued Chapter 1 * (5) day of leaving (Chapter 1) * (6) the field..... chapter 1, * (7) Chapter 2 * (8) chapter 2... continued * (9) chapter 2 continued..... * (10) chapter 2, continued. 1/24: Introduction. Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Sat Aug 04 21:08:26 1990 This room is going to contain a story I started at age 11. Back then, it was the War of the Mice. A very silly childish story written by myself, and friends. (John Gulden, Jeff Latvala, and Scott Jorgenson). A year later, we concentrated our efforts, and started a science fiction, bored with our swashbuckling adventurers from our first book. We started Vampires, and Mythological creatures, Lured by our English teacher, Michael Smith, into the realms of fantasy, and the unknown. Another year seperated us, and I started on my own. Published an article, and felt like I could conquer the world. I wrote of a fantastic heroin, the core of my self esteem, and set her with elves, and vampires, riding a great black stallion, Half dragon, half winged horse. She was at first a slave, in love with her liege, and kidnapped by a cruel lord. I dropped that line. It all seemed too silly. I put her in a world of Genetics, spaceships, and soul mates. The liege became her brother, and the lord her lover. She was a child of the Gods. I am finishing that story now. But the old one came back to me, 11 yrs later. Thanks to Raymond E. Stienke Greyman, I brought the old story back, the character became a dark elf, harboring the soul of the princess from the science realm. The lord was still the same, and the liege, a prince in love with her. Lady AnneAketira Samrii Taborre, Warlord of the Vampyric People, Last Princes of the Royalle House of the Rassonian Empire, split into 2 different worlds. One through Dungeons and Dragons, and the other, through that world of science that she has aged so well in. The following posts in this room, deal with her. From her freedom to slavery, until her death. Almost all of the character names are the same. The story line is the one copyrighted in 1980. This is it's first publication, in rough form, and thus, it has a double copyright, August 4th, 1990. Special thanks to: Raymond E. Stienke Greyman Ironfist, sysop of Magick Dadge, my first DM Richard Kittock, my writing instructor Micheal Smith SkyWise, from my first game F'lar and God, for making this all possible. 2/24: Eclipse, Dance of the Sabres Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Sat Aug 04 21:38:05 1990 copyright 1980, 1990 Christine Shearer, Hiller, Rietsch =============================================================================== The wind whispered in the trees of the forest clearing, giving the un-named slave girl pleasure that only the forest dwellers could know. This was the day of her meeting with the tribal lord. She was nervous, but the calm wind eased her apprehension. Today, she would get a name. Many of the Elves taunted her, because it was a social crime, not to know, or have a name. If you didn't have a soul name, it was a punishment worthy of slavery, or death, dependant apon the whims of the parties present. However, the Forestae Elvana slaves had no names at all, unless they earned one. The dark haired woman kept walking by the stream. A name, finally. After 112 years, she would be called something other than Slave Girl, or Dark One. Dark One reminded her of what the people called the Drow, and she hated them. She looked at her reflection in the water. Her sky blue eyes grinned back at her. She tied back her long waves of black hair, and brushed some dust off of her dark skin on her arm. She put in her left ear, the only adornment, or clothing she was allowed to have, a golden earring given to her by the tribal mage. The hoop hung down to her shoulder, and it's point drew a drop of blood when she put it in her earlobe. She rubbed the ponted tip of her ear, till the tingling quit, then jumped in the water. It was cold, but felt good. Numbed her limbs, and numbed her mind. She scrubbed furiousely with a Taii leaf, so as to purify herself, then stepped onto the bank. The girl cast a small flame in the palm of her hand. "For Magic, I live for thee, Mother Earth, and for thine Magic, I die for thee." She put her hand in the water, extinguishing the flame. That task done, she started back to the village, pure as the morning sky, and ready. Her soul would be read, and her name given. Four youths from the tribe were naked as she, to receive thier names as well. They had thier own oaths to say to the Goddess Earth, or Magic as she was called. One of them was the Ruler's son. The young lad, Silent Song, had been injured as a child, and did not communicate, nor respond to anyone. The tribe was going to have a ritual killing of the boy, because according to Nature, he could not survive. He was force fed, and clothed daily, by his father. The girl remembered when she had secretely reading the books of magic, even when she couldn't read. The boy found her in a clearing with the sacred books. She found a patch of sand, knealed before the prince, and drew a picture of a winged horse in the sand for him. He looked down, but his eyes did not register. A spell flickered through her mind, and left her mouth before she could stop it. The boy looked at her, in the eyes. He stared her down, then turned to the copse of trees. A wolf entered the clearing. It was large, and gray, with a mane almost hanging to his forpaws. He trotted up to the boy, and sat beside him. The boy put his hand down, and ran his fingers through the great creature's mane. "My Fami... Fam...il....iar,"he whispered in a soft voice, speaking in the tongue of magic, which only the mages knew. "Do you understand me?" she asked in the tribal tongue. The boy did not hear her. She asked again, in the tongue of the Magi, and the boy nodded. "Listen to them. They do not say to me!" The king of the tribe stood in suprise just inside the clearing. A slave who could not read, or speak magic, and a boy who could not live, were speaking to eachother. His son could talk to the girl. She smiled at the memory. The ruler had given her books, taught her to read in 3 other languages, and let her teach the magic to the boy. Tonight, because of her, Grey Ghost, and his person, would earn thier spirit names. Thus, she earned one, and her freedom. The girl ran.......... 3/24: continued..... Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Sun Aug 05 09:43:05 1990 The village was rambling with the excitement of the days festivities. People bowed at the tribe's prince, who now walked among them, laughing, and speaking to others. General happiness filled the air. The black haired elvish girl walked purposefully into the clearing. Drow though she may be, the males of the tribe looked at the slave and wished she was one of thier blood. Courting her then would be no sin. However, today, after gaining her name, she would have to leave, and find her soul name, for the priest said he couldn't find it. No one could find the soul names of Drow. They didn't have them. The chosen warriors stood one on each side of her. She stood naked before the tribe, as was the custom. Her golden skin was flushed red at the face, but she stood proud. Even the women admired her. Blessings sang out for the girl who helped the prince live. The two children who were to be named, entered the clearing, in the same dress as she. More laughter flitted around, and some pats on the back to those four who were this day, bare before the Goddess Earth. The girl was scared, but didn't show it. She looked at prince Darre, and he back at her. He smiled, and mouthed three words towards her from across the clearing. She blushed deeper red, knowing what he was saying. She had seen this cerimony many a time, and had seen children, and many an adult run around the camp naked, but she couldn't look at her tribes prince. The sun made him look like a god. Never would she be able to have a male like that for a mate. She was far too different and ugly for that. She looked at the rest of the people. Golden or Silver hair. Pale eyes. Pale skin. She felt out of place. The prince may love her, but he would find some one like himself to marry. Darre. No longer called Silent Singer. He had found his soul name, but needed a tribal name. No one else knew of his soul name but her and him. He said it was thier secret. He would have to tell the tribe tonight. A hush came over the people, and they all looked towards the alter. The cerimony was going to begin. 4/24: continued Chapter 1 Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Mon Aug 06 09:46:33 1990 The priest, his apprentices, and the Tribal Leader walked toward the alter. They each in turn, bowed before it, then turned to the crowd. "Today, you are to witness a great happening among our Tribe of the Forest. Rhashiin's two children have come of naming age. The Prince, Silent Singer, will of this date, receive his long sought after name, and the slave girl, the Nameless One, shall achieve name, and freedom. "Many of us have waited for this day to come. It is a sign of adulthood and honour to our people. Without the earned name, we have no identity. Regardless what we may or may not own, we will always bear our names. "Bring the Nameless Ones forward." They were lined up before the alter, first the girl, the two children, nad the prince. They knelt before the leader and the others. "Rhashiin girl child, Thine name has been found for thee,"the priest muttered," Thou art called White Wing, for thine interest in the swans of the lake. Thine soul is Averia." "Rhashiin Boy Child, Thou hast shown great promise as a hunter, and provider. Thou art the Swift Stalker, for thine help in the hunt. Thine soul is Shamina." He stopped at the prince. A darkened look came to the priests eyes. "This one knows his soul name. Say it before the tribe." "I am Darre." "You by finding that without the tribal priests help, have just accepted your given name as Silent Singer. Is this true?" "Yes," the prince answered. "Your wolf, Grey Ghost, his name be Arrin." The priest stopped before the girl. "Slave Girl, thou hast become warrior and Magi. Thine name is Black Feather, for the colour of thine quill. Let it be known, that thou hast no soul name." She looked up in shock. So did Darre, and murmer rose from the tribe. "She must be banished!" someone shouted. "Nameless ones are to die!" "No!" the priest blared, silencing all jeers. This child will go on a quest, to find her soul name, and lineage. She has brought the prince out of the void he was trapped in. She taught him to speak, to sing, to cast spells. Therefor, she has earned the right to find her soul name. "Black Feather,"he calmly adressed her," you will go out of this realm. When you find your identity, and learn your spiriit name, you will invoke this crystal,"he handed her a green crystal,"we will find you in two days hence. Gather your supplies you will need, and leave us, before the tribe changes thier mind." 5/24: day of leaving (Chapter 1) Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Tue Aug 07 13:05:56 1990 Black Feather backed away from the alter, with a look of horror in her eyes. No name? How? The green crystal was clutched in her hand so tight, that her knuckles were white. She turned, and ran into her tent. Celebration began without her. The girl angrily packed her things. The Seeing Krystal, her sketch book, magic books, dried food stuffs. All of these she threw with force into a deerskin bag. Suddenly, she stopped and looked in the doorway. "Will you be back, Black Feather?" asked the prince. He leaned against the mantle, and his look was serious. "I do not know if I will return. I cannot be accepted like this. I have always been an outsider, now I am humiliated by a priest." "I was going to ask you to marry me today. My father refuses to let me, now. They said that they hoped you had changed, but didn't. I do not know what they are talking about." She looked at him puzzled,"What am I supposed to change? I have been here all of my life. I do not understand. Oh, well, it is irrelevent. You really were going to ask me to be your mate?" He nodded, with a soft smile on his features. "I want you to have something, for your journey." He pulled out an amulet with a carving of a scarab on it, and a ring of a coiled dragon. "This is the Amulet of Sending. With it, if you are ever in danger, you can send messages to other's of your kind, as long as they are in the same area. This ring, I will watch over you with. When you are done with your quest, I will come for you, and we will come back as leader's of this village." She looked at him in suprise. "Who are you, in the prince's body?" He handed her a scroll. "Read this, when you are far from here. It will tell you who I am. For now, you must get out, before my father sends the troops after you." "Yes, you are right." She finished packing, and the prince escorted her to the outside of the forest. She looked out on the grassy plains, and a feeling of dread washed over her. No home. No friends. Darre kissed her for the first time, whispered Come back to me, and left her standing there. The sun was almost a threat to her, shining in the sky, and she wished she had a cave to go hide in. At least then, she could sleep, and not think of the change in her life. 6/24: the field..... chapter 1, Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Fri Aug 10 00:02:40 1990 She shook off the depressed feeling. No use in letting one self emotionaly die like that. Many went adventuring anyway. wouldn't hurt. Such a big quest, though. She had no idea where to begin. The grassy plain was so tremendous itself. What sort of things would she encounter? She pulled the green crystal out of her leathers. It started to glow warm in her hand. The damned thing was invoking! She screamed in rage, threw the thing far from her, and fell to the ground. Feet away from her, the crystal exploded. It sent incredible heat through the air all around it, but it didn't scald the grass. Magic! Even the high ones of the tribe were after her death. She knew it wasn't anything light. She stayed down until the heat dissapated. She was lucky she threw it far enough away from her. If she was attacked with that crystal, what else did they have in store for her, and why? The scroll flickered in her memory. She pulled it out of her bag and opened it. My Dearest Dark One. At the time I write this, I do not know your name. I hope it is a beautiful one, as you are. The reason that I write this, is to explain to you what has happened to me. I need desperately your help. If I can not get that, at least your understanding will be enough. Forgive me for the lies I have lived with you, and please know why I have done these things. My real name is Darre. I was named after my father, Lord Darre, Ruler of Forestae Elvana. Yes, this is the former ruler of the tribe we live in, that had the throne before the current ruler, Akkaren, my ah... supposed father. When I was but a child, Akkaren, then my brother, drowned me in the river, so as to ensure that he would have the rule. He was the youngest of us two, so he would net get the throne. Later, he and his mate gave birth to a son. She mysteriousely vanished, as you remember. My soul was trapped in a jar, behind the alter. Akkaren had put me there, so as I may not get back at him. However, the child of his, had gotten hurt, severely. You were there. The jar had been broke as well. The boy's soul had vanished from the body, so I took the opprotunity to animate it. For some reason, that was all I could do, until 50 years later, when you healed me in the clearing. I have yet to know why I couldn't communicate, but the magic you wrought was strong. I must gain back my father's throne, for Akkaren will even - tually do the damage to the tribe that he did to his family. I pray I don't have to give you this letter. But I heard of them threatening to send you away. I hope that it does not happen. I need you by my side, perhaps our magic combined will help. Wether you believe this or not, I do not know. With the love of the Angels. Anitiia Darre. She was reading while she was walking. The sky was getting dark around her. Putting the scroll neatly back into her pack, she searched for a place to rest..... ...... Her night was frought with dreams of drowning........ 7/24: Chapter 2 Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Fri Aug 17 00:16:01 1990 She travelled for about a week. She had tanned some rabbit hide, knowing that winter would be near, and something had to line her boots. It was a rather dull journey across the plains. Forest was coming into her sight as she walked. Mountains behind that.She had never seen mountains before, and stopped to admire them. At least they held some promise to her, unlike that letter she kept re - reading over and over. It bothered her. If what the prince wrote, was true, she would have a whole army after her. She was sure that the seers of the tribe knew she wasn't dead. Right now, she couldn't even picture Darr's face. It was like a door was put down. Maybe that was to concentrate on her task ahead. Maybe that, or she didn't care for him like she thought. It puzzled her that she should be the source of such an uproar. Why was she so important? Not the way she looked. She had heard that free elves in the other villages had looks somewhat like hers. Her magic skills? Hah. She just learned last year how to cast a fireball. Others were far ahead of her. She watched the snow sparkle on the distant mountaintops. The sun shone yellow on some of the spots. Never seen anything like it. She stood in awe for some time, and then heard a noise behind her..... 8/24: chapter 2... continued Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Sun Aug 19 17:42:23 1990 Her hand was on her sword hilt when she turned. It wouldn't have done her much good. "Well," said a dark skinned elven male, possibly the leader,"What is this. Elvish woman alone?" The others in his party of six, laughed. Two were drunk. She smelled the rankness of thier breath from the ground. They were all mounted on horses, the elvish man, on a big black war horse. Crossbows were pointed at her. They surrounded her. "Go ahead. I doubt anyone is going to miss this one," the leader said to one of the drunk men,"Even as pretty as she is." She glared at the elf. She had heard tales of what would happen to women i situations like this. The look in his coal black eyes, terrified her. He smiled a decidedly evil smile at her. "Such pretty eyes, woman. Stole the colour from the sky, did you?" She hated him. He made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. The others started to dismount, when she whispered under her breath, a spell. A bolt of lightning jumped from one of the drunks to the other, then to a few others. It seared through thier chests, spooking the horses. One horse started running, as his rider fell. The rider's foot got caught in the stirrup, and he was drug out of sight. She was weakened from the force of the spell. It had killed all but the elvish man. She could tell he had cast to protect himself. She had felt the magic other than her own, working. Suddenly, he was standing before her. His hand went about her neck. "Little Witch,"he hissed," now I have to get a new travelling party. You are pretty powerful. Such a shame. You have to anger a prince of the drow? Not wise." She touched him in the groin, and cast the shocking grasp. He howled with anger, backing away. Her sword flew out of it's sheath. His hands clasped together. She ducked out of the way of the missles of magic, but to no avail, for they struck her in the middle of the back. She fell. "Maraya, protect me..." she muttered to the Goddess Magic. He was on top of her, pinning her hands to the sides of her head. Her back burned. Another whisper fell from her lips, and a dark ray passed from her imprisoned hands, to his. His strength waned immeasurably. In shock, he didn't react fast enough, and from her robes, she grabbed a dagger, grinding it into his stomach. She then cast to give herself more strength. In seconds she could feel her back again, and stood up, leaving her dagger in him, while running her short sword through his neck. His eyes opened wide in shock. He touched an amulet, and the same dark light she cast at him, hit her. Her strength died, and she fell. Seh could feel the pain in her back again, and he stood once more. "Bitch. You will pay...." were his final words, as he fell for the last time. His horse stood, waiting for it's master's commands. A few feet away from her, was a spilled sack. She reached for it, and drug it to her. Her legs were numb. The numbness was slowly climbing up her body. No, it was not a killing blow, but if she was parylised, she would die. This thought raced through her head as she rummaged feebly through the discarded pack. She found a bottle of a blue liquid. She opened it, and smelled it. It's herbs smelled the same as her healing salves. She looked at the side of the bottle. In magic, the words came to her. The potion would heal. She guzzled the contents and passed out. 9/24: chapter 2 continued..... Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Tue Aug 21 19:23:17 1990 She awoke when the sky was just turning dark. She must have been unconcious for hours. Slowly, she rolled over, and got to her feet. The pain was gone. The war stallion still stood, by the dead body of his master. She bent over the prone form of the Elvish Lord, and started to rummage through his clothes and pack. She couldn't let the shock from killing him, bother her. He would have killed her. She needed to survive. She found an amulet about his neck. Magic aura eminated from it, very strongly. Would it perform the same function again? She didn't know, but it wouldn't hurt to keep it. She took his ivory handled knife out of his stomache, and wiped the blood off on his shirt. All of this was done coldly, without looking at him, not really. She knew she would start crying if she did. His magic book weighed heavily in her hands. She put that in her pack. Copying spells would come later. Healing potions, and food rations. His jewelery she left on him, but took his coin pouch. She looked inside, and found it full of platinum and gold peices. She turned to the stallion. The big black creature eyed her, with flecks of red glowing in them. He was almost built like a dragon, but without the shoulders to support wings. A mortal horse, with immortal horses blood. Many winged ones had been in service to the Tribe. She could recognize one in disguise as a mortal horse. The red eyes gave away dragon blood, but his bone structure said mortal, but he was an impressive creature. She held out her hand to his muzzle. Sftly she sung to him, in half magic, half equine, convincing him to be her companion. She cast charm, and walked towards his side. She didn't know how loyal he was to his former master, but she needed a horse, and had to tame the black one. She saw the whip marks on his belly and flanks. Some were only a few days old. She ran her hand on his neck, then side. She took out some healing salve, and rubbed it into the scars. The animal didn't flinch. Just looked at her, almost pleading. She unhooked the saddle, then pulled it off his back. Next, he lowered his regal head to have the spiked bit pulled out of his mouth. "Go, Black One, you no longer need to service man, or elf." Sad, cause she really wanted the horse, she walked away, and the war horse followed. She turned back to him. "Step one is completed I guess. You trust me." She now had a mount. 10/24: chapter 2, continued. Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Mon Aug 27 18:00:54 1990 The fun part would be getting on the stallions back. Black Feather was not really tall, but the stallion was. She pulled the bit off of the bridle, and re - tied the leather, so it would function without the bit. Slowly, she slipped the thing back on his head, threw her blanket over his back, then put the saddle back on. Then she strapped the packs to it. The horse stood patiently. Black Feather saw the animal skull decorating the saddle, and removed it. She would not have such things associated with her. She cast enough levitation to reach the stirrup, then mounted. The horse twitched just a little. "Do you speak in mind - speak?" she thought to the creature. She looked towards the mountains, and the stallion started walking that direction. Definately the blood of Dragons. The horse continued walking, and she pulled out her book of magic, to revive her spells. Anything to not look at the bodies she had left on the ground. 11/24: chapter 2, continued Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Tue Sep 04 14:46:32 1990 Black Feather rode to the foothills. It took a full day and night. She was thoroughly disappointed with the elven princes spell book. The only spell she gained from his book was Charm Person. She really needed to see the spell for light. The stallion seemed happy. He just walked along, following whichever direction she thought of. Her current one, was the town at the foothills. Smoke billowed from the wooden houses, and noises came from the streets. A few flags were waving in the breeze, holding the same colours as those in the hills. In the hills? She looked up, seeing a large fortress built into the hills, and up into the mountains. It was was everywhere, and black and red flags raised from a myriad of turrets. The fortress looked dark and menacing. The stone was coal black, to blend into the mountainside. It was impressive, and she stopped her horse, just to admire it. This was her first castle she had ever seen, and the thought of it frightened her. No one, but an evil sort, would live in such a place. The freedom was in the forests, thus, the good. Not in such black walls. She hesitated at the edge of the town, but needed supplies badly. She had not a choice. The smells of roasted meat, and fresh vegetables assailed her. She was hungry for some fresh food. Mayhap she could get information here too. She dismounted the stallion, then started to lead him down the main street. 12/24: chapter 2 continued. Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Wed Sep 05 00:09:27 1990 People crowded around her. Most spoke in a language she did not understand. Most were human. That much she knew. Children gathered around her, begging for coins. She found a few copper pieces out of her old coin pouch, and tossed them away from her, so that the children would let her an dher horse through. "Lady, My Lady!" Someone ran up to her side. An old man. His teeth were wethered, and he walked with a crooked limp. "What be it, Sire?" She asked him. "I be not a sire, My Lady. There be no royalle blood in me. Mine must be adressed at just Sir, or Man." He put his arm around her shoulders, in order to lead her to the shop. She had no bad feelings about him. "Wouldst you like your horse stabled for the night?" She looked at the black beast. He was eyeing the man with fire red eyes. "Just a pasture, and some tools to remove his shoes would be nice. He has had a rough time. Mayhap a gentle child, who will brush him, and not yell around him. I think he will trust one such as that." "We have one like that. She will make his coat shine, and feed him sweets. A little pointed ear one, just like you, but with red hair, and a temper with people. "She wants to be a healer, that one, and is travelled here with her village." "Fine, then so be it. Tell me, what is it you run?" "The town, My Lady. I am the leader of the village. when the Warlord is not in attendance." "Then I shall call you Keeper of the Village. So would be your title." They both laughed, and he led her to the stables. 13/24: ..... Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Wed Sep 12 17:08:52 1990 Black Feather couldn't help looking back at the looming castle in the mountain. Something of it drew her to it. The old man saw her glance. "Never you mind about that place. That is the home of the Warlord. He is an evil one, and must not be encountered." They entered a tavern, as her stallion was lead to the stable. Other's within heard the talk of the Warlord, and faces turned pale. "He seeks to kill Roshka now," shivered an old woman. Her toothless smile was filled with a lie. "Roshka is a threat. The Warlord will be in this town soon, you can know." The Keeper laughed, and set Black Feather down at a table. "The woman is crazy. Her daughter was killed by him, so now she says that the childs spirit now tells her his whereabouts. "I learned in my woodland village, that crazy ones are not to be taken lightly, Keeper. They are in touch with the Gods." "Of course," she cackled," the Warlord be Suteckh. He is the God of all death. None can stop him, and he seeks a bride. Hide, young woman, wildst you can, for he comes soon, and with you, will quickly forget of Roshka." Black Feather's face went pale. She had heard of Suteckh. A vampire who could not feel the burn of the sun, and left worlds in ruin. Said once that he destroyed a whole Eden, just because he was not the only one there." "That is the Warlord?" The tavern grew quiet, and many nodded. Suddenly......... 14/24: ..... Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Thu Sep 13 16:23:46 1990 ... people started screaming from the streets. The roar of a dragon was heard in the distance. Black Feather ran to the window, while others backed away. The wings of the ancient dragon blotted out the sun, casting a dark shadow over the village. It screamed again, smoke bellowing from it's massive lungs, and the elven woman covered her ears. The rest of the members in the pub gathered around the window with her. "Don't let yourself be seen," some young warrior whispered,"If he sees you, you are doomed. Duck down. Look at him once, but not at his eyes." The dragon reared up, wings flapping forward to hover. The creature's scaled coat glimmered in the sunlight. It landed hind legs first in a beautiful sillouhette. Her mouth dropped open. She had seen many a winged horse, but this deadly dragon was by far more beautiful. Just once to sit apon a creature like that. A scream rang from the stables, and shouts from a high pitched elven voice. The elvish was short and quick. "Damned stupid Stallion! Come back here!!!!!" Just as the figure in black armor was about to remove it's helmet, Black Feather's black warhorse came running down the street. His nostrils flared as red as his eyes, and flames shot from them. The entire crowd in the tavern was awed. The stallion roared, and the dragon answered. Black Feather whispered no. The black Dragon almost tossed it's rider to attack the horse. It let the stallion reach it, and fangs, hooves, and claws clashed. Sound of steel rang against the dragon's scales. It breathed acid, and burned the horses mane and tale. The rider jumped off, giving up his control. He swore in a form of elvish, while backing away. The dragon horse bit hard in the tender part of the black dragon's neck. "Dahnatallia Shetzen, Manikii Rani Arrlettaou!!!!!" he swore, damning the dragon to hell if it couldn't beat the horse. Blood splattered the street. The stallion shot fire at the dragon's eye, and the dragon returned the favor, burning all the skin off the dragon horse's skull. The horse fell, and Black Feather buried her face in the chest of the warrior beside her. The roar of a fireball was heard by her ears, and the smell of burning flesh. A dying scream, and the dragon's scream of triumph. "Stupid animal. Did you think that you could beat a true dragon, Half Blood?" She looked back, and saw the skeleton of the horse, standing up. It's head was lowered in submission. She saw the talloned joints where the wings would be on a dragon. Sadness filled her. The rider removed his helmet, and let his long black hair fall down his back. He glared around him, at all of the cowering townspeople, with eyes as dark as an abyss. "Roshka sent me this thing, seeking to use it to destroy me, didn't he?" he asked in a whisper that was more mental than voice. "Where is Roshka?" Just as he turned to look toward the tavern, Black Feather was shoved behind the crowd. The human warrior still held her. She wasn't going to cry. The dragon horse died as a fighter, but he would be tortured she new. He patted the black dragon's head. "I see, the fool flees me. He won't get away." His eyes caught the sight of black hair through the tavern's door. He focused on the warrior holding the woman. "Another of your sluts, Sharn? I take it she could not handle the carnage. Yeah, a pretty beast. Too bad that little half elf in the stables couldn't handle her job. Maybe I should teach her a thing or two...." He let the thought drip in the air. Suteckh turned, eyeing the stable. "Something I want is in there." He whispered a spell, and then a flame haired half elven female appeared before him. About her neck was a cold blue amulet. "You are a different one. Who are you, and what is this?" he reached out and touched the amulet. Pain hit everyone present. The dragon quickly turned to stone, and the warlord stumbled back, a cry in his voice. Elves fell to the ground, and 15/24: ...... Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Thu Sep 13 16:33:20 1990 Just as soon as he released the amulet, the effects vanished. The only one not affected was the half elf who wore it. "Who are you, Little One," his voiced rippling with anger. The young woman stood in a fighter's stance. "Someone from times present and past. Touch this, and you will feel that again, Creature of Magic. Remember that." The dragon shook it's massive head. It started toward the girl. "Kill me, and you die," she said. The beast backed away again. It acted like a little dog. "A tiny one such as you subdueing a dragon. This is intriguing, Cleric. I wish to learn more." Black Feather came to the door, in time to see the half elf pulled up on the dragon's back, and then the beast taking off. The warhorse vanished in flame. The God of Death seemed to have forgotten why he came. Black Feather put her hand to her chest, trying to breathe steadily again. So did every elf in the tavern. Everyone sat down wearily, and people from the street filed in, finding anywhere to rest. They all hurt, and some looked out the window to see the dragon's staggered departure. It wobbled in the sky from weakness. "She is doomed, I say." "He can't touch her, I know what that is what she wears." "Hah," someone laughed. "He kills her, he kills all of us, and the source of magic will vanish forever." "And if he corrupts her?" Black Feather closed her eyes, trying to fight the feeling that she belonged to the God of Death. The villager's whispers filled the tavern with fear. 16/24: chapter 2 continued. Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Fri Sep 14 23:00:55 1990 Roshka stood with his party, outside the village in a copse of trees. They silently watched the flight of the black dragon, as it departed. "I wonder what happened," the cleric whispered. "Not good, that I assure you," answered the elven warrior in a sullen voice. "I just wonder if that was the effects of the amulet we felt. He has it. Not in his hands, but he may have that Keeper." "Rescue her?" asked the magi twins, both at the same time. Roshka shook his head. His answer need not been said, for they all knew that only the Keeper could handle that amulet. The Warlord Suteckh would never be able to get his hands on it. "We wait till nightfall, until the rest return to us, and if they are not here, then we will be gone before morning." "Night is the most dangerous time to travel...." Roshka smiled vicousely. "Then that is the best time to travel. When he least expects us to." They set watch, then sat to a meager supper. The wait would not be long. 17/24: chapter 3.... Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Mon Oct 01 17:29:05 1990 The rest of the day had been spent eating, and sleeping. A villager gave Black Feather a mount, not nearly as magnificent as the one she had, but a good sturdy animal. She was out in the stable, brushing the animal. It was sleeping, enjoying the morning. She wished she could. She decided to stay away from the castle as best she could. The warrior that held her yesterday, offered to take her with his band of cutthroats. She guessed nothing of hers would be safe, but a good quest should begin with an adventure. Might as well. She absentmindedly kept her brush moving on the horse's back, while she was lost in thought about Roshka. Interesting human name. In the forest, it meant "Fire Tempered". Either he was as hard as a good blade, or savage in his temperment. She probably wouldn't find out too soon. A scream of a dragon was heard from the mountaintops, and she shivered. It had been going on all night. Some incredibly large beast, she was certain. It seemed almost to speak, not by voice, but a haunting whisper in the mind. Asking her to come up there, to feed it. She knew what a dragon wanted for food. That was known in all legends, but the voice was compelling. Interesting to say the least. Dragons that spoke in MindSpeak were very rare indeed. 18/24: Chapter 3, in the Warlord's Keep. Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Thu Oct 04 08:59:08 1990 Bantu paced back and forth, in the engine room. The walls threw a hideous red light around him, making his features seem less human. His concubine in the corner didn't mind though. Love for Eternals always ends immortal, and that is what she waited for. He looked at the creature in the corner, and sneered at her. Something was bothering him, most certainly. He felt something definately pull at him. It came from the village... He snarled, his fangs dripping blood where they cut into his lower lip. That girl. The pull came from her. "Master?" He turned and faced Pasha. The wench groveled before him like some whipped dog. "What are we going to do with the cleric?" "We," he hissed," are going to do nothing with her. She is of my concern. Quell your thirst for a time longer, Child. I turn you loose on the night tonight. Then, you can sate yourself." "You tire of me!" she whimpered. His smile was malicious. He pulled out a dagger bearing two blades, and carressed it lovingly. His eyes were not on her, but a thought crossed into his mind, and seemed to amuse him. He never laughed. "Come with me, and I shall show you how I don't tire of you, En Darre Pasha. Come." He held out his hand, and she took it. The smile never left his face. Time to feed Arrletaou. Not a virgin, but the Outcaste had to get sustenance some how. That night, another innocent died, and the dragon screamed on and on....... 19/24: Chapter 3... Leaving the village. Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Sat Oct 06 15:14:04 1990 Sharn waited for her outside the stables. His party of renagades was with him. A few thieves, no magic user of any sort. She turned to get one last look at the town. Another band was leaving in the opposite direction. Just as ragtag as her lot. She wished them well, adn turned back to her new leader. "Where be it we head?" He looked up to the mountain. "Away from that, as far as we can. I do not want to see that beasts face for a long time." She flung herself up into the well worn saddle she bought. "How does Suteckh know of you?" "I used to be friends with Roshka. When He decided to take his revenge out on the Warlord, I told him not to. Roshka wants nothing to do with me anymore. Are we all ready?" he asked, turning to his party. There were about 16 people in the group. Most were eager to leave. A myriad of "Hahzahh"'s were heard from them. As they rode out of the town, the townspeople hid inside thier buildings again. Last nights reminder of thier weakness made them more like cowering children. Black Feather remembered some of their whispering the night before. "If a drow and a dragon cannot protect us, then we are doomed for eternity. She had seen some drow, white haired things, weak looking, and suspicious. Different from the dark drowish prince she killed. She wondered how anyone could expect those things in the town to protect them. The dragon...... Poor creature. He knew of his heritage, and went against his own kind. It had to be that he knew. The animal never revealed anything to her. She had never seen a non winged animal that could use dragon ability like that. It puzzled her. And these thoughts haunted her as they rode. 20/24: chapter 3... continued Name: Black Feather #420 Date: Sun Oct 07 18:13:10 1990 The trip for over a few weeks was quite uneventful. She found that one of the thieves had some ability in magic, so she started to instruct him, on spare time, which was plenty to be had. Sharn spent time teaching her to handle the dual short swords better. One night, with the lamps lighting the practice area, Sharn laughed for a thousandthe time as Black FEather dropped the swords again. "I cannot handle these things!!!" She threw the swords down in anger. Her face was incredibly red. She knew some of the others in the party were watching. "Maybe you should stick to Magic, Princess," Sharn said, falling to the ground and rolling in laughter. The girl could not master the swords, and the last drop was good. She almost ran one through her foot. "There may be a time where I need to use them, and not my magic. I will not be caught unprepared." She swore under her breath, and sat down. Neither of them noticed the amulet she was wearing, glowed a little, then grew silent agian. "I say we quit for the night, My Lady. This is too much, I may burst with laughing. You value your feet, don't you?" She snarled at him, found some mud flowers, grabbed a handful of the seeds,a and started smearing them on him, with well aimed throws. He found some, and retaliated. Both started laughing hard, and he had trouble breathing when he spoke. "That's it. Your aim is accurate with mud mobles. Maybe you could be a new form of weapons master. I could see it now, Mud Moble Monger!!" Tears came to his eyes. He thought he was going to urinate in his breeches. She was so funny when she was mad. She looked intriguing with mud flower pollen all over her face too. He stopped laughing, adn reached out a hand to touch her cheek. She looked at him in suprise, then he heard a harsh whisper from her. The girl swore often. Especially when the two of them were surrounded by mercinaries. 21/24: chapter 3... the battle Name: Black Feather #420 @16255 Date: Thu Oct 18 08:28:26 1990 "What the....." Sharn whispered, looking around him. He heard the noises of the camp in the distance. The thieves around he and Black Feather avoided the camp completely. They were surrounded by a rag tag lot. Most in rags or leathers, but extremely well armed. "We have to bring her alive,"said the man who appeared to be the leader. There were about 12 of them compared to thier two. Sharn felt like a fool. His sword was laying on the ground, and so were Black feather's. She was crouched, hand still poised at a mud flower. "What do you want?" None of them answered. The only response was,"Yell, and you will not see your life last, Fighter. We came for her, and that is all." Her hand flew up and tossed the mud pollen directly into the leader's eyes. The stuff burned into them. He screamed, and just as Black Feather was goig to cast a spell, she was hit with a dart in the side. It distracted her enough, that she lost her train of thought. Sharn screamed that they were being attacked, and the other thieves went after both of them with weapons drawn. Both were able to get thier weapons in time. Black Feather felt suddenly sick to her stomache. Her vision started blurring, and she had trouble standing. One of the mercinaries grabbed her from behind, and she couldn't resist him. Too easy to fall into his arms and sleep. In the back of her mind she heard shouts, and some screams of pain. Magic raced by her with it's heat, then all went completely black. The thief she had been instructing cast two missles of magic. One at the leader, and the other at the one holding Black Feather. One of the mercinaries came at him, and tried to rip open his side with a dagger. Nikki was quicker. His blade whipped out of it's sheath, and tore into the mercinaries throat. They were lucky to have been alert enought to hear Sharn's shout. Sharn was close to going down, with six surrounding him. Those six were quickly dealt with by having thier hair and garments set afire by an angered barbarian weilding a torch. The mean holding Black Feather barely winced as the bolt struck him. Nikki felt forlorn. Well, if magic wasn't working, his dagger would. \ The mercinary didn't know what hit him. He saw a thief's dagger fly towards him, someone reached around his throat, sudden pain....... Cheers rang up, as the last of the mercinaries fell. Black Feather fell on top of her would be captor. Sharn hobbled over to her and bent down. The cleric started his chanting, and passing of the potions around. Sharn forced one down the prone woman's throat. At least there were no casualties. Only injuries were minor. Loot was horded by the party. "We cannot stay here tonight. They will find us again. Let's move out,"Sharn ordered. The thought traversed his mind. Why did they want his Princess? 22/24: ...... Name: Black Feather #420 @16255 Date: Mon Nov 05 22:32:30 1990 The thought bothered him more as he picked her up, and carried her to the campsite. Drow had been sent after her, mercinaries. He wondered what she did that so many were after her. The girl was far too innocent to cause any harm. The camp was quickly dealt with. The other's forced thier leader to stay with Black Feather until she came to. He forced another bottle of healing potion down her throat. Her breathe was almost non - existant. She wasn't struggling, but he didn't like it. All of his fighter's instincts told him that the entire situation was wrong. He brushed the hair away from her face. "Who the Hell are you? Why so many after you?" he mouthed with a soundless whisper. Most of the party was mounted by the time that Black Feather regained conciouseness. The first thing she did was vomit. The world spun hideousely. She had never felt like that before. He rhead hurt, and she couldn't see. Maybe the pain was just a dream. That could have been why her eyes wouldn't open... A canteen was handed to her out of the blacknes... Nope, not dreaming. Stale, almost tasteless water. She couldn't tell if she was standing. An arm supported her. "How do you feel, Black Feather?" Her temper flared,"I cannot see a thing! My stomache feels like I have encountered some bad meat, and you ask me how I feel?!? Must you shout?" The party laughed in unison. Black Feather tried to push Sharn away, and he paitiently kept a hold on her as she almost fell. "Just throw her over your shoulder! Don't look like she will do much harm!" shouted the barbarian. "Knock her out again. She's been bad luck scince she joined us. Leave her." Teh cleric turned and slapped the thief that said that. Both horses kicked at eachother. The halfling thief fell off, and directly into the mud. Sharn turned in anger, still holding a struggling elf. "I have had enough! If you people do not care for my decisions, then leave. Now! Else, be grown, because there may be a war on our hands! Go!" 23/24: The two clowns... Name: Black Feather #420 @16255 Date: Mon Nov 05 23:08:23 1990 The two who had been acting like supreme fools looked sheepishly at eachother. "We will have to leave. I am not staying in a party with her. She is crazy. Look at the symbol on her arm. She worships death. I will not continue any company with her, or her Kind," mumbled the cleric. Black Feather had passed out again, and didn't hear a word of what had been said. "How many of you feel this way?" Of the fifteen mounted, eleven raised thier hands. Sorrow wandered a few faces, for Sharn was a brilliant leader. However, the girl was bad blood. They couldn't stay around with her. "Then go. All of you. If you feel you must." Sharn turned his back. His old Gypsy friend, Tarro stayed with him. Nikki dismounted his horse. So did the Barbarian. The one eyed thief, Mantis stayed as well. The rest rode away in silence. None of them dare look back. They had betrayed thier doomed leader too far already. Almost like nothing had happened, Sharn put Black Feather on her horse. She was concious enough to sit, but barely so. "You have made a mistake, My Friend," the old gypsy said with his hoarse voice,"You should not have let them go. We shall be in great need of them soon." Sharn slapped his saddle bags behind his saddle. "You know what would have happened. They are far too inconsistant. Had I not said, go, we would have all lost our lives." He got on his horse. The others did the same. "We ride until sunrise, then camp at the edge of Morroco mountain. Then, we will have decisions to be made. For now, I wish to hear no more about it." He spurred his horse into a trot. The gypsy trailed behind, holding the last position. His horse bucked a little bit. The animal felt his tension. He too, felt that they were doomed. 24/24: ... Name: Black Feather #420 @16255 Date: Thu Nov 29 22:11:12 1990 After a few days of uneventful travel, the party settled down in foot - hills of an unnamed mountain range. Night birds chirped in the trees, harmonizing with a chior of crickets. Black Feather curled up in some furs by the fire, and fell asleep instantly. Sharn was worried. The dart that the mercenaries hit Black Feather with, contained a poison that not only made her sleep, but drained her almost to death physically. She had slept for two days without waking, then would eat, only to go back to sleep again. It bothered him all the more that the only magic user they had was unconcious much of the time. They were lucky so far, for they had not been attacked. He looked over to the other side of the fire. She slept soundly, curled up like a little child. Even in the fire light, she looked worn and pale. He wondered if she would pull out of it. The gypsy seer sat under an overhang, finishing the last of the venison stew he cooked up. Nikki and Mantis sat beside him, cleaning lock picks, while Nikki read through a book of magic at the same time. The barbarian slept in the crook of a tree. He looked like a massive lion with his disheveled blonde hair hanging down in it's tangled mess. "Sharn," the gypsy whispered to make sure he wouldn't wake the sleeping barbarian, but still attract the leader's attention,"come sit with me. I have something I must speak with you about." "Someone has to keep watch." Tarro motioned him to sit. He sat in silence for some time, watching Sharn keep looking over at the sleeping girl by the fire. "She will be the death of us, Sharn. The Goddess has told me thus." The leader glared at his old friend,"How dare you say that? She is just a girl. There is no malice in her bones." "True, but the malice lay in the people that seek her. She has a vast and eventful future. We are not to be part of it, however. In a days time, many of our foes will come for her, and if we do not leave her here now, we will all die." "Then, we will change our course away from the mountains." Tarro shook his head sadly, and began wittling away at a small block of wood. "It will do us no good. They find her wherever she goes. It is best that we part with her now. Leave her a horse and supplies. Then we shall break camp. Clean and simple. She can never find us again." "I cannot do that." "You have fallen in love with that woman." "I think so. I could not part with her." The gypsy looked at him solumnly,"You have to. Her destiny was shown to me. She will go very far into greatness. If we continue with her, our lives are snuffed out on the morrow. She is Dark Elvana. More than likely she be a high priestess, or thus. This I judge by her bearing. They have proven that they will kill the rest of us to get her." Sharn stared back at his old friend. "Had you told the rest of the party this, causing them to leave?" Tarro again shook his head. "They held no further wish to travel with a Dark Elvana. I will stand with you no matter what happens, and so will the others that stay with us now, but know that you will cost us all, including yourself, our lives." He went back to his wittling, and showed no signs of speaking further. Sharn sighed in frustration while getting back up to walk around. He knew the old gypsy was correct. After years of experience with the seer, he got used to visions and such words of wisdom from the man. Now more than ever, he felt that the gypsy was right. He looked at the girl as she slept by the warm fire. The dark skin, the ravin hair, and the blue - green eyes all gave her away; and he had been too blind to see it. Even if she wouldn't be a danger, her friends or enemies would. He didn't know what to do. His thoughts travelled to the mercinaries that had attacked them days before. They came specifically for her, and knew where to look. Black Feather stirred from her sleep. Slowly she came to wakefulness, rubbing her eyes and stretching. She looked at him with sleepy eyes, and smiled deeply. "Lady, I pray you have slept well." A look of puzzlement swept her face. "What did I do?" she asked, standing up. "Nothing, Lady. Come walk with me. Do you feel up to it?" She shook her long mane of hair so it fell in cascades about her. The smile on her face was unsure. She didn't know what was going on. Even so, she answered yes to his question, and grabbing a piece of fruit, she left the clearing with him. "I do not care for the sound in your voice. I asked you before, What did I do?" He looked down at the elf, praying she wouldn't press the question much further. "It is nothing that you have done. Just things have been an incredible pressure on me lately." She grabbed a hold of his arm for support, losing her balance for a moment. When the weakness passed she gathered her breath and looked up at him. "My condition is not helping much. At least I am walking today, but I need to hit my books so my spells come back." He couldn't leave her alone with her poor fighting skills and no magic. She wouldn't last the night. He patted her on the back. "I just wanted to know how you were feeling. Do not worry about it." He led her back to the camp, hoping that the seer was wrong. Maybe the party could avoid any confrontations. If they made it through the morrow night, then there would be no danger. His conscience rebelled against the thought. Inwardly, he knew they were all going to die. 