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Skeins of Fate, Part V
Character(s)::
Hronmir Silent-Voice
Author::
Douglass Barre
Storyline::
Rat Kings
Title
of Post:: The Sounds of Silence
"She was certain you would have the
answer," Hronmir said, his voice low as always.
"She's not certain of much
anymore," Flicker said.
Hronmir nodded. "I'm still trapped,
then."
"We all are," Flicker said,
"by one thing or another."
Norna watched as the crystal tear soaked
into her porcelain skin. Messala didn't
understand, at least, not the importance of all this. His were mortal concerns.
At least, as mortal as a Deathless could be. Still, despite the Sunfighter
curse, Messala himself was still mortal. A slow smile came to Norn's lips,
banishing the despairing frown that had been there.
Striding purposefully, she went to the weaving room, locating the
skein she needed.
She began with Messala's birth.
Character(s)::
Ariath
Author::
Douglass Barre
Storyline::
Rat Kings and Dead Villains
Title
of Post:: Why We Really Love The Storyboard
Ariath's eyes perked up watching Vas and
Ebreth clunk their way around the room. Khyri, in her bedsheet, had already
hooked Ebreth. The pirate (if that's what he was) was thoroughly enchanted,
even though it looked like he thought he knew what he was doing.
"So, Vas, are you still mad at
me?" Ariath looked forlornly at the elf.
"As mad as anyone can be at a
beautiful woman wearing only a bathtub."
"Which is to say?"
"Not at all, of course."
If Ariath had been any less perceptive,
she might not have noticed the dove slowly pushing its way in through the
slightly-ajar hotel door. If she had been any more drunk, she might not have
noticed the drop-of-blood eyes. If she hadn't been nibbling on Vas' neck, she
might not have been in position to see the dove fly at Khyrisse's bare back,
its feet like talons, beginning to glow.
"Shit!" she shouted, and two small bullets of light flew from
her hands, weaving around Ebreth and the chandelier to strike the dove instants
before it could touch Khyrisse.
"Fire in the hole!" Ebreth
cried, shielding Khyrisse with his body.
The magic missiles hit the dove, igniting
its body with a strange mystical fire. It turned to Ariath with its blood-drop
eyes, and a voice like the underworld spoke to her.
"You shall be next, woman."
The dove crashed through the window and
into the night.
"Oh, fuck," Ariath said.
"And we were trying to feed it."
"Are you all right?" Ebreth
asked Khyrisse.
Khyrisse was looking half-drunkenly,
half-thankfully at Ariath. "You really are a mage, aren't you?"
Character(s)::
Ebreth Tor
Author::
Laura Redish
Storyline::
The Morning After
Title
of Post:: Of all the rotten luck
Well, that had certainly killed the mood.
Ebreth had never liked birds.
***
Khyrisse staggered downstairs, pretty well
hung over. Ariath, Vas, and Ebreth were already down, drinking coffee; Val and
Jack, she noticed, were not. The guy with goat's feet was tied up in the chair
next to Ariath. Pieret was chatting with the Diarian, and Skitch was slumped
across one of the tables. Behind him, the wall of the inn was scrawled with
four-letter words. "Skitch!"
"Please don't shout," he begged.
She stared at him. "Have you been
drinking?"
"Uh," he said, "well, you
were..."
"And writing on the wall of
the--" Khyrisse tried to give the very thin-lipped innkeeper some money.
He shook his head shortly. "It's no problem," he said, through his
teeth.
"I didn't do it," said Skitch.
"He did it."
"The Skitch teaches me to write his
language," said Tarrin, proudly, and then, worry flashing quickly over his
face, "kiljhac way, of course, not from his mind. How do you say? I won't
make the same mistake twice."
"And why should you," said
Ebreth, "when there's so many new ones to make?" His blue eyes
twinkled, and he offered Khyrisse some coffee. "Good morning, Khyrisse.
What are we going to do today? So far our enemies list has got Of-No-Matter, an
undead thing, an unknown bomber, some assassins trying to kill Mr. Graffiti,
the Valkyrie, and the psycho dove. And Goatboy here, but he hasn't been opening
up to Ariath all that much. Unfortunately, everyone else on the list is either
really powerful, unknown, or both. So we've kind of been wondering where to
start. Any ideas?"
Character(s)::
Norna
Author::
Laura Redish
Storyline::
Skeins of Fate
Title
of Post:: Norna needs a search algorithm
Norna had already found Eren Messala's
death, and she was not too preoccupied to smile. Serves the bastard right. She
didn't know why she was continuing to look; idleness, procrastination probably,
a few moments away from her problems, the reassuring mastery of her art. She
had followed the link across skeins without thinking about it, more because she
could than for any other reason, and this other chap seemed to have a long and
primarily boring life ahead of him, so Norna was steeling herself to log off
and get some real work done when she happened to notice the death of Timrin
Dalliar.
Norna took a very deep breath and put her
finger on the knot. The hell with Ragnarokkr. This was even better.
Needle in a haystack, indeed. Norna
considered giving Messala to that Of-No-Matter jerk but decided against it. A
prophecy was a prophecy, after all.
She had a starting point. Unfortunately,
it was twenty-five years after the divergence it had contributed to. The number
of skeins that could have connected to it in that amount of time were more than
the Valkyrie could search by hand in three years, much less three weeks.
Finding the right one would be a miracle. And Norna was not follower of fates
only to believe, like a foolish child, that a second chance implied a third.
If Messala's knot was less far in the
future, she might have a better chance at tracing that. It could still be worth
it to try and find it. She buried her fingers in her sheafs of blond hair to
try to stop the obsessive music from breaking through. Norna didn't really
believe it would make a difference. If she could only find a way to trace the
Lich Lord back to the skein she needed.
"You're going to help me, Eren
Messala," she said, "one way or another."
Character(s)::
Khyrisse, Skitch, and Pieret
Author::
Kristin L.K. Andersen
Storyline::
The Rats of R.U.M.I.
Title
of Post:: Old Age and Skill Can Always Overcome Youth and Treachery
Khyrisse sighed blissfully and leaned into
Ebreth's soothing hands. "A relaxed mind. I can only imagine," she
murmured, laughing a little. Her eyes opened lazily; for a moment, it seemed as
if there were an aching, empty distance behind the violet of her gaze, before
her lashes drifted back downward.
***
She momentarily shelved the matter of
Skitch and his tendencies toward vandalism. Her head was still pounding, but
she wasn't sure if it was a hangover or the remnants of the Diarian's mental
invasion. Ugh. Next time I'm sticking with hard liquor, if this ISN'T his
doing-- and I don't think it is. I'd forgotten how much wine hangovers SUCK.
Khyrisse accepted coffee gratefully. "Good morning, Ebreth," she said
with a smile. Dumping a scandalous amount of sugar into her drink, she gulped
it down, perusing the wall behind Skitch and Skitch's guilty face over the rim
of her mug. Finally she set the mug on the table, gasping slightly for air. She
felt better already. "Excuse me a moment," she said, and pounced on
Skitch, mussing his hair, knuckling his head mercilessly. Skitch yelped,
laughed and fell over, taking Khyrisse with him. "AUGH! No! No noogies!!
AAUUUGH!" Once he was howling with laughter from a mixture of thumps on
the head and tickling, she let him go and got up, rumpled and grinning.
"Remind me to sell you to the gypsies. Little brat. Grendel only knows
what you told him." Khyri poured
herself more coffee and sat next to Ebreth. "I think," she said
calmly, with only the twinkle in her eye and her mussed hair to say that she
had just been wrestling on the floor with her apprentice, "I'd like to
talk to a native of Rumi today. It can't possibly be a coincidence that undead
things, bombs, assassins, and supposed priests of Lucifer are swarming the
place. Not to mention the little mob problem they seem to have." She
paused for a moment, looking at the sullen, nervous face of the innkeeper.
"You know, if this was a normal town before we got here, I'm going to feel
terrible."
"Wouldn't be the first time you've
done it, either," Pieret said into his coffee cup, grinning.
"What?! Shut up, Pieret!"
Khyrisse threw a breakfast roll at his head.
Character(s)::
Ebreth Tor, massage therapist
Author::
Laura Redish
Storyline::
Rat Kings
Title
of Post:: Isn't it ironic
Khyrisse sat next to him rather casually.
Ebreth Tor found himself in the very strange situation of being easily practiced
enough to tell when a woman was attracted to him despite herself and at the
same time naive enough to think it was really cool. He felt like an idiot, but
luckily all his grins looked the same. "They weren't really priests of
Lucifer," he said. "Or if they were, it's pretty ironic. I made that
up to try and scatter the crowd. They were just some guys who wanted to kill
our hapless Diari friend. Hoofer here claims he never met them before."
Character(s)::
Jack Paris
Author::
Douglass Barre
Storyline::
Rat Kings and Dead Villains
Title
of Post:: Some of Us Take Our Time
Jack opened his eyes from his evening
meditation. He didn't sleep unless he really needed to. He preferred to keep
things contiguous. The chaos upstairs
had forced him to postpone his dinner with Valende to the next evening. The two
of them had been mopping up, binding their prisoner, and otherwise taking care
of the business that the inebriated sex maniacs had been avoiding the night
before. A quick walk under the stars of Rumi had been all they had time
for. Jack smiled. Somehow, despite the
speed of the others, that was enough.
He sat up and pulled his tunic on. It was fresh and clean. He peeked in
his satchel. The rat was still asleep. "You and me, buddy," he said
to the rat.
Downstairs, there were a lot of bleary
eyes and a heck of a lot of graffiti. Jack figured it was better not to ask.
The prisoner was still tied to the chair. Valende seemed to be pretty good with
knots. "So," he said, faking
a morning yawn, "what's on the agenda today? Interrogation, maybe a few
more mobs? I think I figured out what the rat wanted."
"He probably wanted to sleep some
more," Khyrisse grumbled.
"Huh? No, I meant with the math
stuff."
Val shot Vas a look that Jack was finding
familiar, but still hadn't quite translated.
"Tell us the Rat Gospel, Paris,"
Ebreth Tor said, looking better for the wear.
"Things are building. Exponentially.
There's a, uh, force... or a convergence of some sort. It's coming up. I think
it has to do with that undead thingie that hit Val with the fear spell and
marked some of the rest of you."
"Duh," Tor muttered.
"And," Jack said, ignoring him.
"It's no longer in Rumi. We're on a path. It's synchronistic. It started
at Lianth, hit again in Rumi. I took some time last night and figured out where
we need to go next."
"Where?" Val asked.
"I'm not going to like this, am
I?" Khyrisse muttered.
Jack waited a moment for full effect.
"We need to take the Rat to Rimbor
City."
"Oh, this just gets better and
better, doesn't it?"
***
Marzoom felt it too.
The wave of necromantic power washing over
Ataniel passed through his citadel.
"It is happening... again..." he
whispered.
There were no longer any gods to refute
him.
Character(s)::
Ebreth Tor, prophet
Author::
Laura Redish
Storyline::
Rat Kings
Title
of Post:: Take Me Down to Rimbor City
"Rimbor City." Ebreth Tor
sighed. "Well, I can't say I'll be sorry to leave this stupid town or
anything in it behind. I've never seen so many assassins per square yard. But
then I've, uh, never been to Rimbor City." He rubbed his neck. "I
have a feeling, though," he said, "that we won't be chased by any
mobs there, anyway."
Character(s)::
Khyrisse and Pieret
Author::
Kristin L.K. Andersen
Storyline::
The Rats of R.U.M.I.
Title
of Post:: Where You Get Sent When You've Been Bad In Hell
Khyrisse buried her head in her folded
arms. Her forehead hit the tabletop with a muted thump.
"I should have stayed in the tub. I
played Existential Yo-Yo five times in that damned city. I hate
Rimbor." Her shoulders shook with
a deep sigh.
"It's also occupied by
Cynystra," Pieret said, face twisted in a wry smile.
"You and I might see that mob, after
all."
Khyrisse snorted in disgust. "Great.
What next, Duke St. Augustine?"
Pieret paused for a moment. Ariath
narrowed her eyes and glared suspiciously at him.
"Let's hope not, shall we?" he finally said, and
finished his coffee.
Character(s)::
Jack Paris, Ariath
Author::
Douglass Barre
Storyline::
Rat Kings and Dead Villains
Title
of Post:: Oh, You Got Trouble, Right Here In Rimbor City
Jack turned to the man with the
illusionary hooves, tied to the chair.
"So, friend, what can we expect waiting for us in Rimbor
City?"
The man frowned. "I don't know what
yer talkin' about, buddy," he said.
"Let's look at the facts,
'buddy'," Jack said, starting to pace. "You show up in Rumi with a
stupid Luciferian disguise. You incite a crowd to riot, trying to kill this
Diarian chap. You're psionically inaccessible, your rope was unaffected by
Diari magicks, and last night, you exerted five hundred and fifty-two pounds of
pressure per square inch on your ropes, if I can judge accurately by the marks
on the chair and the ground. I'd say you know what I'm talking about."
"Damn," muttered Valende,
"good thing I used his ropes to tie him up."
The man with the hooves grinned a
malevolent grin. "I came to kill
the Diarian. If he leaves this town, then..."
"The world will end?" Khyrisse
asked, fearing the answer.
"No, mortal. But Hell will."
"I hate prophecy."
"But I can't just stay here,"
the Diarian said. "I have a mission!"
"Don't worry, sir, we'll get you out
of here perfectly safely," Jack said reassuringly.
"Thank you," the Diarian said, relaxing.
"You're a real wiener, Jack."
"I'll, uh, take that in the spirit in
which I'm sure you intend it."
Valende could barely contain her laughter.
"Hell, huh?" Ariath asked.
"Tell me more, goat boy."
Character(s)::
Ebreth Tor
Author::
Laura Redish
Storyline::
Rat Kings
Title
of Post:: Bear with me, I've never saved the world before
"Gee," said Ebreth. "We'd
nuke Hell? What a shame." He looked at Khyrisse.
"Why, exactly, is this a problem?"
Character(s)::
Jack Paris, Ariath
Author::
Douglass Barre
Storyline::
Rat Kings and Dead Villains
Title
of Post:: Just For The Hell Of It
The hooved figure smiled a horrible
ripped-slit of a smile. "Because
then there would be a lot more than twelve damned souls walking the world,
mortal."
"Wait a second," Jack said,
shaking his head confusedly, "did you say twelve damned souls were walking
the world?"
Pieret, Ariath and Ebreth looked from one
to another.
"Eenie, meenie, minie, moe,"
Khyrisse said. "This is going to be fun."
Character(s)::
Candi, Bambi
Author::
Douglass Barre
Storyline::
The Unbearable Swankness of Being
Title
of Post:: A Spoonful of Sugar Helps The Medicine Go Down
"Okay, so we missed the Rumi Morale
Convention," Bambi said, looking at the map loaned to them by Kevin.
"At least we'll be in ample time for the Miss Dalencia competition!"
"But I got this swimsuit just for
Rumi," Candi pouted.
"Well, wear it in Dalencia!"
"Wow! What a great idea! You are sooo
smart, Bambi."
There was a knock on the Mithril Dagger
door.
"C'mon in, we're open!" Kevin
shouted.
Janther Moria walked into the bar.
"I need to borrow a cup of
sugar," he said, melodiously yet emotionlessly.
"Uh..." Kevin started.
"Hi, Janther!" Candi beamed.
"Hi, Janther!" Bambi grinned.
"I need to borrow a cup of
sugar," Janther repeated.
"Aren't you dead?" Kevin asked.
"Twice, I recall."
"Oh, gawd, Kevin, how rude!"
"Yeah! People come back from the dead
all the time! You don't have to be mean about it!"
"I need to borrow a cup of
sugar," Janther said.
"Give him some sugar, Kevin!"
"Pleeeease, Kevin?"
Kevin, his eyes never leaving Janther, got
a cup of sugar from under the bar.
"Thank you very much, Kayla,"
Janther said.
"Kevin," Kevin corrected.
Janther smiled vacuously and walked out of
the bar.
"So, did we pretend good,
Kevin?"
"What?" the bartender asked.
"We pretended to be stupid so that
Janther wouldn't think we were on to him!" Candi grinned.
"Yeah! And you almost gave us
away!"
"Now we can go and follow him!"
"See who he really is!"
"See if he's seen Max lately!"
"Candi! We promised!"
"Sorry, Bambi. No Max until we're
both great heroes."
"Well, we're off to adventure,
Kevvie!"
"See ya!"
Candi and Bambi bounded out of the door.
Kevin turned to the figure sitting at the
corner table, who had watched the whole thing.
"Hey, can you do me a favor and watch
those two? I've got a bad feeling about this."
Character(s)::
Luthien and Co.
Author::
Evan Haag
Storyline::
The Unbearable Swankness of Being
Title
of Post:: Death Becomes Him
Luthien looked up from the dark corner of
the Dagger as the figure of Janther Moria walked in. He blinked once, not
believing his eyes, and stayed silent. He had been trying to avoid the
attentions of Candi and Bambi, and was succeeding quite nicely. He hoped that
'Janther' would be as easily avoided.
As 'Janther' talked to Kevin and the
girls, Luthien watched carefully. He noticed immediately that the figure's
motions and mannerisms were stiff and uncomfortable, and that the telltale
personal magnetism that had made him so likable before was gone. The figure was
physically identical to the late Janther Moria, but was empty inside. Luthien
ground his teeth together in rage, as the possible implications of this
deception started forming in his mind.
'Janther' left after only a few moments,
leaving Candi and Bambi at the bar babbling about their part in the
conversation and their little quest to become heroes "for Max". They
left soon after, as well, and Kevin turned to him, asking, "Hey, can you
do me a favor and watch those two? I've got a bad feeling about this."
Luthien got up and went to the bar.
"You've got a bad feeling about this?! Janther was one of my best friends.
If someone is trying to use his reputation, or even worse, his spirit or body,
for something, I'm going to put an end to it." He shook his head slowly,
with an annoyed and intense look on his face. "You say that I only missed
Khyrisse by a few hours?"
Kevin nodded, adding, "Yeah, she and
Flicker and that Paris guy went out of here chasing after that rat. Gotta tell
ya, I've seen some weird stuff here at the Dagger, but the whole rat thing
really takes the cake. It took me a half an hour to calm Ubert down enough for
him to start cooking again. Oh, and Val and Vas left with her, too. I think you
should know that Val was kind of shaky when she came in. I think you might want
to talk to her sometime soon."
Luthien nodded, knowing full well what had
happened. "I will, when she's ready. For now, I think I'd better pay more
attention to the problem with Janther and the twins."
At that point, a young man came down the
stairs, yawning. He was dressed in the grey traveling garb of a priest of
Arawn, and had a curious medallion around his neck. He blinked the sleep out of
his eyes, and went over to Luthien and Kevin.
"Good morning everyone, I hope I haven't been keeping you waiting.
I just couldn't pull myself out of that dream; it was too fascinating. I was
standing on a beach with a dead sturgeon, a blind prostitute, and a large
inflatable..."
Luthien cut him off, silently wondering
about his new apprentice's strange dreams. He has way too many of these weird
dreams. It must be his diet. "We don't have time for a description,
Berryn. I need you to go follow two girls who just left the bar; you can't miss
them. Tell them that you overheard their quest to become heroes, and that you
and your sister would like to join them, if you may. I'll follow in a few
minutes as your 'sister'. You shouldn't have too much trouble distracting them;
they have the collective attention span of a Rimbor City trash collector."
The young priest left as soon as Luthien
stopped talking, and quickly turned in the direction the girls had been
heading. Luthien turned back to Kevin, and said, "If anyone asks, I headed
for the Trade Ruins without Khyrisse. I'll contact her myself and give her a
quick rundown on what's happening here. If you see any other Sewer Tourists or
Sway members, don't tell them anything unless you are damn sure that they are
the real McCoys. That includes myself."
With a quick tug from his ring, Luthien's
gear floated over to him from the corner. As it came over, Luth's hands flew
through the somatic gestures of a polymorph, and he instantly turned into a
lithe and slightly sleazy-looking half-elven woman. "If I come back to the
bar..."
"Your name is Lissa, I got it."
Kevin paused for a second, then continued. "Look, Lissa, I know you know
what you're doing, but watch your ass. If someone is using Janther for
something, there's probably little to stop them from using other heroes, like
you or Praxis. It might even be a demon thing; Lord knows it wouldn't be the
first time in this town."
'Lissa' grinned at Kevin. "Thanks for
the warning, Kevin. I'll be sure to keep an eye on the girls, and keep them out
of harm. After all, Max would never forgive me if I let them get hurt."
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