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Post by CadsuaneLassen on Jan 5, 2003 13:04:23 GMT -5
Cadsuane was named after a Cadsuane Sedai a great Aes Sedai who saved her from a band of orcs as an infant. the Aes Sedai gave her to a childless old couple who were incapable of bearing children she grew up in the forests of vesper learning the ways of the rangers as she grew into a tall elven maiden she was quick with the draw and had a wide eyed innocent curiosity of the world it was hard growing up with secrets for she had many since at a young age she found she had an anchent gift called The Veiwings images in all there coudyness and clears ways told the future she didnt alway know what they meant but she could sometimes decifer there meanings she now knows little more but it is still a puzzle she has yet to figure out auras and pictures can tell many things her foster family soon grew and died leaving her with the Aes Sedais guardianship instead of answering the undoubty endless questions about the Aes Sedai who was human with an unnatural long life they simply said they were sisters in reality she is a care giver though she has not openly lied she doent deniey nor conferm the relation and lets the average man assume all he wants be it mother or sister they are freinds a mother figure for sure as time went on and lassen got resstless she decided to go into the world and found a guild or family The Rangers of the Realm an extended family if you like adian her guildmaster and apperant father figure and with her new brothers and sisters she trys to find her place in the world that of all and to her own she has a great sence of duty andhopes to one day be a great ranger and to do her guild and forrests and trees of the world
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Post by ChristopherTheMage on Mar 4, 2003 13:51:43 GMT -5
It was a dark night. The purple of my Nightshade plant would not combine with my garlic. Yes, my In Lor failed again. I had something wrong!
But the sounds in the woods did not bode well. I think I heard an Orc or an Ogre nearby. I was not yet smart enough to understand their language.
It was in that moment. That moment of scared dark confusion, that I must have grabbed the hair dye instead of the In Lor potion. Instead of night sight, I was stricken with blue hair.
From that day on, I was known as the Blue Mage.
And the darkness, finally went away.
Christopher The Blue Mage.
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Post by Mockingbird on May 15, 2003 12:25:46 GMT -5
I sit in my villa reminiscing. My feelings are a mixture of horror and sadness, but there is no regret for the choices I made. I gaze out the window at the blue waters that border my home. The waves slap rhythmically against the shore, the sounds are soothing, they are hypnotic. A smile parts my lips as I remember the young girl - the younger self. I shake my head in wonder at how and why it really all began. Quill in hand, I begin to write...
Few dared to enter the Dark Elf Stronghold, few entered without the intention of murder. The cloaked woman sat in a corner of the inn sipping a cool ale. The dark hood hid her face - she was anonymous. The sizeable lump on the side of her head was throbbing and Mockingbird made a mental note that it had not been a good day. From the corner of her eye she spotted the man with the scar on his face, the man who had delivered the blow to her head, enter the inn. Unseen and unnoticed, Mockingbird watched the scar faced man saunter to the poker table in the back of the inn.
Touline noticed the scar faced man enter the inn as well. Without taking his eyes from his cards he reached into his boot and pulled out a thin dagger. The scar faced man took the seat beside him. "I'll see your twenty, and raise you ten," Touline's voice was emotionless. Jake of Loche was suspicious, he'd lost many a poker hand to Touline in the past. "Fold," he said with a solemn face. Pulling the pile of gold coins toward him, Touline twirled the dagger in his off-hand, calculated his reach, and plunged the dagger deftly into the belly of the scar faced man. "Ante up," he said smiling.
Mockingbird didn't need to see the action under the poker table to know what had happened; it was written in the glassy stare of the scar faced man, it was written in the ever-familiar twitch spreading across Touline's lips. A small price to pay, she thought, to further their cause. How long had they been fighting the darkness, how many lives had been taken in their effort to defeat it? Mockingbird could not remember...countless seasons, she thought sadly to herself, countless lives.
"I said ante up or leave the table you ugly piece of dirt." Vemli the dwarf was never one to hold back when it came to playing poker. "Hey you!" Jake of Loche gave the scar faced man a shove sending him to the floor where he landed in a sizable pool of his own blood. The cat was out of the bag!
The minions of darkness sprang from the shadows with swords drawn. Vemli the dwarf and Jake of Locke moved quickly from the poker table; although neither man was adverse to switching allegiances to suit his own needs neither would stand against Touline, and no man who was not a defender of the light would stand against the dark minions.
Touline pulled his long sword from the scabbard at his waist as he tipped the poker table to block his opponents. Momentarily haulting the advance of two of the minions he stepped toward the nearing third minion where his blade was met by smoldering black steel.
From across the room Mockingbird uttered the incantation of the black root, momentarily freezing the minion whose sword had made contact with Touline's blade. That one moment was all that Touline needed to lop the head from the now-hissing creature. Touline spun, engaging battle with the two remaining minions.
Mockingbird struggled to remain calm. Black root, green death, wither, weaken, faerie fire, she cast the spells she knew would enfeeble the minions. No longer hidden beneath her cloak the pair of axes flashed in her hands, she burried her right-handed weapon into the heartless chest of the nearest minion. As she cast the spell of prismatic spray the inn lit up as brilliant white beams of light engulfed the last-standing creature, Touline drove his sword home and the minion dropped to the ground.
Weapons ready, the pair moved quickly out of the inn. They did not look back...
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Post by Mockingbird on May 15, 2003 12:37:40 GMT -5
C.H.A.O.S., The Chapter of Honorary Alliance of Spellcasters, was by far the largest and most powerful guild of spellcasters in all of the lands. Nina was the greatest witch the alliance would ever know, and along with the two finest wizards she governed her guild with a harsh but loving hand. It was with one of these wizards that Nina bore a child - a girl. In the land of Aardwolf, in the city of Midgaard, her child was born, and she called her Mockingbird for the infant had the unusual gift of ventriloquize immitation.
Although an unusual gift, the ability was nothing more than a parlor trick, and few spellcasters would tolerate having their own voices thrown about a room for the amusement of a child. Thus, Mockingbird was forbidden to use the spell. She studied not only the arts of magery, but those of the cleric, the paladin, and the little-know arts of the psionicist. She was a studious girl and studied her magics diligently. Yet there were days when the child found herself alone in the Hoan Dor forest and could not resist calling out with all the voices of all the animals. To her delight she could summon through her trickery every creature within earshot by calling to them in their own voices. She did not take pleasure in their confusion, but rather in their company. She gave them fruits and nuts and the meats depending on their various likings, and it was not long before the animals would come to her when she called to them in her own voice.
It would be unfair to say that the witch Nina was completely a horrible person, although she was mostly so. She was selfish and jealous by nature, and when a person or situation ceased to fuel her own needs she ceased having a need for that person or situation. At the young age of 13, Mockingbird was banished from the shelter of the C.H.A.O.S. guild, from her home, and from her mother's heart for a crime which she did not commit. There was no trial, her mother deemed it unnecessary.
Confused and afraid the girl roamed the streets of Midgaard, a dirty urchin, alone for a reason she did not understand.
She spent most of her nights at the town dump because a fire burned there and she felt it warmed her soul. It was here at the dump that she met her new acquaintances. The wrong kind of acquaintances some would say - the truest, bravest, and most genuine people in all the lands is what others would say. It was here that she met the brave warrior, Touline.
Why he chose to take her under his wing, she did not know. He knew some of the mage-magics, yet he was not a true spellcaster, but a warrior. He trained her in the arts of the sword, the whip, the dagger, polearm, staff, halberd, and in what came to be her favorite, the axe. He taught her to parry and to dodge, he taught her fortitude. He taught her resistance. He taught her the meaning and the value of humility and compassion. He taught her how to laugh, and how to laugh at herself. He taught her how to drink ale, how to play cards, and he taught her how to kill for the cause of the Light. Then he made her fall in love with him.
They were wed in a small Midgaard chapel, there were no guests, there was no honeymoon. The great battle was raging and he left after the ceremony to serve the honor of the Light.
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Post by Mockingbird on May 15, 2003 12:53:45 GMT -5
Mockingbird wiped the blood from her axe and studied the blade carefully. Minion blood was highly caustic and although her axe had been enchanted she worried at the gleeming metal.
"Aye, we took three of them," she heard Touline say behind her shoulder "And one of the dark officers as well."
Her head throbbed and her muscles ached. She longed to sit in the forest and call to the animals. The smell of blood was in her hair, on her hands, in her pores. The smell of blood was a part of her, she WAS the smell of blood! The weight of duty was tremendous. She was 28 now, how had the years flown by without her knowing? All of those lost moments ... how did she manage to not capture them?
Deep within the security of the stronghold of the Keepers of the Light she raised her head to her guildmates. She knew them all, they were fine men and women - brave and true to their cause.
"Thou hast the look of great weariness this evening." Glisselda bent and gently brushed a strand of blood crusted hair from Mockingbird's face.
"Nothing more that a good sleep in the forest won't cure." Mockingbird twisted to make eye contact with Touline.
He chuckled softly, "A romp in the leaves is no cure for your weariness, woman!" He touched her now-blushing cheek, smiling. [softer] "Yes, I think a good sleep in the forest is in order for this night".
The pair gathered light bedrolls and made their way into the Drageran forest. The stronghold, a large and foreboding structure built upon a rise, loomed behind them; it would house two legion of their soldiers that night. They made camp in a small clearing and found sleep almost the moment their heads were set upon the bedrolls.
It began as a rumbling deep in the bowels of the underworld. Mockingbird and Touline sprung from their beds, weapons drawn. It grew louder and louder as it neared the surface, each pair of eyes was agape asking the same question, What is it? The ground began to shake violently and then split apart, tendrils of smoke rose from the cracks, flames licked at their boots. With a deafening and thunderous roar the stronghold exploded sending 10 million tons of rock and granite soaring to the sky in a plume of black smoke. Trees toppled in the aftershock like so many dominos set in an ever-widening spiral. ...and they ran. Mockingbird ran harder than she ever ran before in her life. "We must drop off the cliffs," Touline shouted as he grabbed her wrist urging her onward, "Jump out as hard as you can, away from the rocks." ...and they jumped.
The black waters of the Great Northern Sea were icy cold, they'd have taken Mockingbird's breath if she'd had any breath to be taken. She fought to reach the surface, unwilling to drop her weapon into the icy depths below her. As her head broke the surface she heard Touline call to her, "I am here," she screamed.
The pair swam from the base of the rocky cliffs to a narrow strip of beach, where they emerged, most unceremoniously, from the water. This time her breath was taken away when she beheld the burning rubble that was once the great city of Drageran, her home. As far as the eye could see dark minion swarmed. She stumbled back, falling into the shallow water. She turned to vomit away from herself, but the lapping waves only washed the stuff back onto her, her head was spinning.
Touline half pulled her, half dragged her to a small sailing vessel that had been left on the beach. Hoisting her undelicately by the back of her belt he dropped her into the hull. He pushed the boat from shore and jumped in.
"D d dead" she whispered into the night, "All d d dead."
"Maybe not all, maybe not yet. I mean to sail east around the tip of Drageran to Falcovnia. Give us a strong wind Mockingbird, we must make haste."
Her white knuckled hands clutched the side of the boat. "Dead."
"Mockingbird! Please we must hurry. Our brethren may still be alive, we must warn them." She looked about in the darkness as if trying to mark her bearing. "From the west," Touline pointed to the back of the boat, "Send the wind to us from that direction."
She mustered the spell with little thought as Touline raised the small sail. As an added precaution she shrouded their small vessel, they moved silently unseen through the moonless night.
The dawn brought more disappointment and horror. Falcovnia lay in ruins. Minions grouped eerily between piles of smoldering rubble.
They turned south driving hard onward beside the shoreline. In the days to follow they would find that city after city was the same: all in ruin, all overrun by the minion.
When they reached the southern tip of the continent they continuted to sail south and away from the only world they had ever known.
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Post by Mockingbird on May 15, 2003 13:08:46 GMT -5
Day after day, week after week they pushed on with nary a sight of land. Until one foggy morning Mockingbird awoke to a loud bumping sound. Sleep filled, she was not at first sure that the sound she heard was not her own head banging against the hull of the boat. She raised her head from its hard wooden rest, but the sound continued. Pulling herself up she peered into the mist and found that the boat had wedged itself into a small inlet. The tiny fingered waves pulled the boat out and then pushed it back into the rocky ledge where they had come to rest, pulled it out and pushed it back, bah bump bah bump bah bump.
"Touline!" Her whisper was a hiss in the cool morning air. "Touline, we have come to land!" She already had one leg thrown over the side of the boat when he snapped awake.
"Be careful, wait for me."
"I," she began, as she toppled onto the grass. "I can't wait," she finished. She pressed her face into the cool wet grass deeply inhaling the green and the scent of the rich brown soil. Pulling herself to her knees she managed to stand, but her land legs had not yet taken form and she staggered wildly.
"Are ye sick Lass? Do ye need help?" In amazement she stared at the elderly shepherd who stood before her, trying desperately to force her voice to work.
"She is drunk father," a young voice said somewhere to her right. She turned trying to make out the form and in her effort toppled back to the grass.
"No," was all she could manage. The shepard moved forward and then froze as the form of Touline appeared behind her.
"We mean you no harm," he spread open his hands as he raised them from his sides. He staggered, using the top of her head beneath him, to regain his balance. "We have been lost at sea, we seek your aid."
The shepherd mumbled some words and from out of the mist a dozen or more children emerged. Gentle hands lifted her, and she wondered in amusement at the old man's crook herding the children instead of livestock.
Some hours later, bathed and dressed in a clean skirt and blouse, she was guided into a large and comfortable sitting room where Touline sat talking with the shepherd, his herd of children gathered round listening intently. She clung tightly to the kindly old woman's arm. A teenage girl jumped from her chair offering her seat as Mockingbird was guided into it.
"Your husband has told us of your peril Lass. Know that ye are both welcome here." The kindly shepherd patted Touline on the knee. "Another drink Lad? Cerilynn, bring Toulon some more cider, and bring a cup for Mockingbird."
Toulon?
In the weeks to follow she would come to understand that they had arrived in a city known as Vesper, in the land of Sosaria. No one had ever heard of Drageran or the land of Aardwolf, not even the map makers from the city. She would give her axe to the boy Gaidon, highly enchanted, it would split the family's firewood for generations to come and never show a sign of wear. The modest garden that the family tended would burst at the seams with a bounty of the largest and most delicious vegetables the family had ever seen. Every mare, ewe, and cow in the pasture would be with offspring...she'd consider "blessing" the old shepherd's wife with an anti-fertility spell but would decide against it. Her husband would change his name, and she and Toulon would come to make a new life for themselves in a strange and wonderful land.
I sit in my villa shaking. My feelings are a mixture of horror and sadness, and I struggle to regain my cognizance. All of my parchments have been written upon, they are scattered on my desk and across the floor. The ink well is dry, my throat is dry, and my left arm will not do as I will it. I check my timepiece and find that I have lost two days in my remembrances. Have I betrayed myself, or my husband? I wonder at the story I have told...
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