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Ceinwyn ab'Arawn · Transcendent Spammer Joined: 13 Dec 2004 Posts: 5017

As the meeting began, Ceinwyn's back began to ache. The pain was annoying, at most. Normally she would not have given a second thought to the slight discomfort, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. The meeting wore on, and she was determined to ignore the weakness.

A figure at the back of the benches drew her attention. Gryss. She had thought him long gone, but he sat there now, proof that the power of Umbra drew all who harbored the slightest bit of darkness within their hearts to its bosom.

A pain tore through her and she lost her balance for a moment. It was becoming more difficult to ignore the insistent pain. Merci was watching her with concern, wanting her to sit.

Sit.. yes. Good idea.

She backed up slowly, and took a seat on the cold black stone chair. This relieved her back pain, she found, but relief was short-lived as she felt a twinge of pain ripple across her abdomen. It was time.

Looking up, she realized Merci was issuing orders, preparing for something. They were preparing for Ceinwyn to give birth. Had she spoken the thought aloud? She must have...

Snapping out of the odd daze that had settled over her, she thought she heard Merci say something about delivering the children on the throne. Shaking her head, distractedly, Ceinwyn mumbled.

"My bed.. " She made her way to the teleporter that led to her private apartments. The Umbran females followed a cue and joined her upstairs. The men, having become accustomed to being ordered to wait outside, congregated in the main hall to await further news of their matriarch's delivery.

))))((((

Above, Ceinwyn was eased into bed with assistance from Merci. The instruments of a midwife's trade were laid out for ease and the warlord began to perform all the checks to see how soon the babes were in coming.

As Merci bustled about, issuing commands, Ceinwyn was waging a battle to stay conscious. The cloudy recesses of her mind were hovering about her, tempting her to just relax and be drawn into the promised peace.

No, she must stay awake. What was she thinking? To sleep at a time like this! Stupid, stupid, stupid. She gritted her teeth as another contraction rippled over her. The pain helped to refresh her mind and draw her from the illusion.

"Merci.. Listen to me.. One of them is not Sid's," Ceinwyn spoke, brokenly. Merci was beside her, listening, holding her hand, a look of worry and mixed curiosity on her face, which she replaced quickly with a stern expression to hide her concern. Ceinwyn continued, rushing to get it all said.

"Oggaroth has fulfilled his promise..." She sank back a bit into the pillows to brace herself against the next wave of pain.

The contraction tore through her and she clenched Merci's hand, tightly. From where she lay in the bed, she could not see the blankets darken, as they became soaked with blood.

Merci released her hand and hurried to the end of the bed, ordering Sia and Yia to keep contact with Ceinwyn. They dutifully took Ceinwyn's hand as Merci tore the blankets from the bed, intent on stopping the excessive bleeding.

))))((((

The jungle south of Trinsic was beautiful this time of year. The mosquitoes were done biting and the crispness of autumn lingered in the air. She had always found a sense of tranquility here. Smiling, she turned around. It had been years since she had been here, preferring to visit Papua and avoid the old memories.

"It is time.."

A voice she had not heard in centuries. She turned to look upon her mentor. Andreas Kincade had opened her mind to the power and potential of necromancy.

"What do you mean 'It is time'?"

"Time for you to join me, to join us..."

Ceinwyn turned with surprise at the sound of Bailos' voice. How did he know to look for her in the Trinsic jungle?

"What are you doing here?"

"Nevermind that, I have something to show you..." Bailos offered his arm to her. She slipped her hand through it and followed his lead, Andreas accompanying them. Suddenly, she stopped her walking.

Was it her imagination, or had she just heard a baby crying?

))))((((

She blinked in the dimness of her room in Umbra. Sia was holding her hand, and Merci was shouting at her to keep pushing. Immediately, she obeyed the command, bearing down and trying to concentrate as thousands of questions flooded her mind.

Merci announced the gender of the child. A girl. Ceinwyn knew she was smiling a bit, but that was quenched when she realized she was breathing, very hard, and she needed the air. A glance to the hand Sia was diligently holding confirmed her suspicion. Somehow, during this labor, she had lost her dark gift. She had become mortal, once more. She held up her hand, calling Merci's attention.

"Look at me! Something is wrong.."

But, Merci's attention was taken by the appearance of the second child crowning. She took a position to deliver the babe, and Ceinwyn felt the walls around her closing in.

))))((((

How odd...

They walked the short distance to a hill overlooking the city of Trinsic. Ceinwyn's gaze traveled over the detested city for several seconds before she realized that there was something off about it.

"This is Olde Trinsic," she answered herself, gazing down on the city she had grown up in. Had it really been so long ago that she had vowed revenge?

Bailos gestured to the city with a wave of his hand.

"It is time. Have your revenge."

Ceinwyn nodded. She stood there, chanting the words to the earthquake spell. She knew, from her memories, that the people below would be ill-prepared for such unexpected devastation. The full force of the spell began to build in her hands, and she swayed to the side, weaving the power tighter to her before throwing her palms forward with every ounce of hate in her veins.

This is hate for your hate.. consequence for your actions.. Be thee as broken as I was. Be thee sundered.. forever.

As I was.. as I am..

The force of the spell ripped from her hands and sped toward the town in a glowing arch. In the milliseconds before the magic touched down, the city seemed to shiver in anticipation. The ground hummed at first and then windows shattered on buildings everywhere. The stonework of the streets exploded upwards, as if the very soil was rejecting such man-made objects. As buildings began to splinter and collapse, the city was swallowed in dust. Screams of pain and anguish reached them as they stood watching the devastation. One cry seemed to make itself heard above all the others.

The cry of a baby.

))))((((

Merci was announcing the arrival of a boy. Ceinwyn knew she was losing her grip on reality and that her time was growing short.

"Let me see them," she said.

The children were held up for her to gaze upon.

"The boy is Trahearn.. and the girl.. " she struggled to remain conscious, to get the words out before she completely lost it, "The girl is.. Kale."

Her eyes on the babes, she was reminded of a pleasant memory. It had been some thirty years or so ago that she had given birth to another set of twins, Myrddin and his sister, Maelwyn.

Merci sent someone to fetch the Warmaster. Ceinwyn smiled and called out to Merci.

"I have something for you, it's in my bag. The box is yours."

As Merci dug through the crammed backpack, her hands discovered the box in question and she drew it out. Satisfied that Merci had found her gift, Ceinwyn settled back further into the pillows. Presently, Myrddin appeared at her side. She turned to face him, smiling softly.

"You know what to do, my son."

But, as the ever loyal Umbrans began to argue that she wasn't going anywhere, Ceinwyn's grip on consciousness was growing even weaker. No longer was it Myrddin who stood beside her. In her mind, it was someone else. With a weak voice, she uttered his name.

"Mairsil..." she smiled.

))))((((

The dust had settled and Ceinwyn looked over the ruined city, surveying her handiwork. A sense of vilification overcame her. This was what she had worked for for so hard and so long. This was what she had dedicated her life to. What was there left to do?

"You will come with us."

Bailos and Andreas stood with a black moongate between them. It resembled the Umbra moongate in every way, only the edges were blurred, as if it was pulling light in, instead of giving it off.

First Andreas stepped into the inky blackness. Shortly after he had been swallowed by the darkness, Bailos wafted through, as well. Ceinwyn stood there, studying the black gate, uncertain of whether or not to follow.

))))((((

The sound of arguing brought her back to consciousness. Merci was angry with Sy-wen. Ceinwyn wondered briefly what the dryad had done this time. Myrddin was kneeling beside her, a beacon of strength and solidity in the chaos of the bedroom. To her other side, Merrique, holding her hand and the simultaneous image of sorrow and hope. Tears of love decorated her face as she watched over the failing matriarch.

She could remember speaking at various times to them throughout the ordeal, but she could not remember what all she had said. She had no worries, though. Myrddin would sort it out, and Umbra would continue to prosper.

Then lightning seemed to reach down and touch her, ripping anguish tore through her, and she arched her back in a rending scream of pain. After mere seconds, it ended. But, Ceinwyn knew it was only the beginning. As her body lay there, twitching of its own volition from the lightning, she felt a contentment washing over her as the barrage of a hundred strikes of crackling lightning began to strike down upon her body.

She heard them all, the Umbrans, as if from a distance, as her spirit began to rise from her body. As she was being lifted to the ceiling on the ropes of lighting, she turned to gaze at them all. She could feel their emotions drift over her body like energy, as it lay there on the bed below her.

))))((((

With a sigh of long-awaited fulfillment, she stepped into the black gate, eager in her curiosity to discover what lay on the other side.

))))((((

As the lightning carried her into the ceiling, Ceinwyn opened her mouth to blow a brief breath of cold air down upon her body in the bed. She could see her body starting to freeze over.

The last thing she heard was Myrddin's farewell as she passed into the blackened stones at her back.

"Matriarch... mother. Blessed is the Darkness."

Never in a hundred lifetimes would she have ever guessed that she would have ended up as the matriarch of such a powerful and independent nation.

Merci d'Rue · Babbling Loony Joined: 18 Jan 2006 Posts: 2810

Merci's Kryss *the Creator* struck into the body of the writhing dragon. Cold as never before lashed out from it her body convulsing with fury, rage, tears...

So many Tears...so many years...

Blessed is the darkness! She screamed into the night. Hail to our Matriarch as she journeys forth into the veil.

She heaved with exhaustion, she killed with blind fury, sacrifices souls to the sacrifice. None would suffice. She was the creator today, as Toren had made her. The creator of death...tho hours later she had brought life from the Matriarchs womb, the blood still etched on her dress... She saw only death.

She dropped. Her body at last rebelling against her merciless mind. Her arms laying at her side. The blood on her dress seeping into her skin, her soul. A moment of madness as it weaved markings upon her. She rolled and stood as she looked upon the field surrounding her. Great beasts laid slain their blood congealed in a frozen wasteland. Of her own making, Burned on her arms her held new markings weaving along her like shadows.

She had evolved, tthe blood of the Matriarch seeping into her skin renewing her fury,renewing her strength...

******************************************************************************************************************

Home....Umbra.... She held the box, opening it again she stared at Pan's Pipes. She had told no one. She lifted the instrument softly and put it to her lips. A single note was all she could play. She was not surprised, nay she knew that more work, more practice. Only then... She placed it reverently into her box.

Walking outside of her home she lifted her hands, raising them up to the sky. Closing her eyes she chanted, Grarine, the spirit of old, her guide suddenly by her side, Merci felt a surge of power. Ice beamed and crackled from her hands. A light cold and rigid shot into the darknessof the sky eagerly swallowing the power and renewing it. With a howl the fury broke and the sky crackled as once more, snow...fell softly.

Blessed is the darkness, my sister..Matriarch..
_________________
May destiny guide you...

gypsy_merrique · Journeyman Joined: 30 Sep 2007 Posts: 213 Location: Umbra

Shalcross had such enthusiasm to serve the Dark City, that Merrique felt sorry for him when his young body defied his ability to go to the late trainings. With that thought she slipped out of her home, leaving her husband and young sons behind with the hope of seeing those in charge of Umbra's army. It was her intent to discuss the long overdue beginning of growth supplements, and Merrique held gratitude in her heart for being allowed the delay in their start...a dispensation given by the Matriarch herself.

Merrique slipped into the familiar building and instantly had a terrible feeling. She couldn't identify it, but the way the men were standing around looking rather out of place could not signify anything that was routine for Umbra's males. Some of them seemed downright uncomfortable. Warning flags surged up from Merri's stomach to her brain. The Warmaster directed her upstairs, with the mention that the Matriarch's time of birth had arrived.

Ah, no wonder everybody looks so tense thought the gypsy. Birth was certainly a woman's work. Up to the Matriarch's chambers she went, her heart jumping in her chest with a combination of joy and fear. All births were unpredictable. This was the truth of Sosarian females.

Doing as she was told to do when the orders were given, Merrique attended the birth alongside of the Umbran women. Then things went terribly wrong.

Somehow, defying all logic, the Matriarch was lost to her followers. Death was no stranger to any of those present, but the blow was fierce and stunning. Words were exchanged, people came and went. Through it all Merrique sat at the right side of the Matriarch, holding her hand and letting her grief run free.

She did not care how weak it made her look. All Merrique knew was that the only person who ever served as a mother to her was gone. Dead, she's dead! thought Merrique over and over. Such a terrible downpour of emotions long pent up and well hidden came surging forth from the woman who up until this moment had been the happiest she'd been in all of her life since coming to Umbra. Now the cause of that joy was lost to her.

The words of the Necromancers brought no comfort. Merri was unsure she believed the things proclaimed by the dark mages. Her gods were her gods, her culture vastly different than that of the Umbran-born. Perhaps the Matriarch would live on forever. And perhaps her spirit would soar up and up and forget about the bodily worries of the living.

Despite the cold applied by Merci to the Matriarch's failed body, Merri held tight to Ceinwyn's hand. Her tears fell freely, making no difference on the chill flesh of the body of the woman Merrique so adored. After all the others left, Merrique remained. She spoke to the Matriarch as if she still lived and listened, telling Ceinwyn that she owed her everything. Thanking the Matriarch for the opportunity at a real life with a real reason for being seemed trite, but it was the best she could do in her upset. It seemed that hours passed, and the words spilled forth mixed with terrible sobs and cries of anguish.

She knew not how much time had passed when Merci arrived and bade her to leave, as it was time to preserve the body and bolt the doors. With a weak nod, Merrique reluctantly let go of the Matriarch's hand and rose on wobbly legs, and bent to kiss her cold cheek.

"My dark mother. Go with the darkness in all of her glory," she whispered before standing upright and doing her best to appear stoic as she left the room.

It was a long time before Merri was able to find her way home.

She'd forgotten all about the growth supplements.
_________________

. . . But the dark is very trustworthy.
It's always as dark as you thought it was.
And you don't have to work at staying there.
All you have to do is survive it.
And I've been doing that forever.
from the novel "Dark Debts" by Karen Hall

Nyxanna ab'Arawn · Adventurer Joined: 04 Oct 2007 Posts: 90

You look much like me Nyxy, when I was young. Nyxys one purple eye and one blue twinkled at her grandmother. Ceinwyn wrapped an arm around Myrddins youngest child, the mage with the fierceness of the ab'Arawns. Pulling her close she regailed her with stories of long ago.

Of a love most fair... Nyxy sat enthralled, she loved Mairsil and she wanted to hear every word Ceinwyn said about her grandfather.
Every question she asked Ceinwyn freely answered and Nyxy, was delighted.
****************************************************************************************************************************

Her father yelled loudly calling to the wolf as it leapt over logs, slid between trees howling loudly. NYXANNA AB'ARAWN come back right this instant!

The doors to the sepulcher burst open as Nyxy slammed her body against them her paws flying against the dark floor the claws clattering in the silence. Myrddin not far as she flew to Ceinwyns room and began futiley pawing the door. She couldnt think the haze in her head would not lift as she saw nothing but the instinct to enter that room.

The door did not budge and Myrddin pulled her back. Here here let me help. She transformed back against her will her human form taking over once more her breath coming in ragged gasps as Myrddin opened the seal. She rushed inside stopping in her tracks next to the bed.

It was true... She slumped next to the bed and Myrddin pulled his daughter close as Nyxys small hand reached up to touch the frozen one.

Blessed is the darkness, grandma..

Morio_Kitsune · Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2008 3:53 am Post subject:

Morio sat in th parlor in deep contemplation, the Matriach has died, such a short span as past since the swearing of my oath, Oh well... May you rest well in the halls of your ancestors, he then chuckled to himself, I don't even think that would be suitable to say but it is the Kitsune belief, All I can do is offer all my being to Haydn... she needs the pillar of strength in this time...

Getting up from his chair Morio then went to perpare sone food, a stew of Sanctuan Pixies and Hiryu meat for when Haydn returned from her duties.
_________________
cezanna "No, he is a fair and faithful man, Ranna"
Ranna "That's how kitsune are.. well.. I dunno about Iruka.."

Demetria · Adventurer Joined: 31 Dec 2007 Posts: 45

She arrived at the house of Shalcross, ever grateful that the hunting accident involving Langois did not shatter their ability to go shooting together. Certainly there seemed to be some sort of subtle shift in the way she was treated by his parents, but she supposed it was only natural. It wouldn't have happened if it were not for her and she accepted the responsibility for both of their actions; using the excuse of youth never crossed her mind. Rather, she kept the gladness of forgiveness in her heart as a reminder to always be vigilant and careful, advice given to her by Walter. Were it not for Shal's mother, Demetria would probably go hungry more times than not. Food was not high on her priority list, and she did her best to avoid eating flesh. Shal's mom made such good pizza, and there was almost always pizza available at this household.

Shock was the feeling that washed over her when miss Merri opened the door and looked positively haggard. The woman's face was pale and drawn, with large circles beneath her eyes. Demetria was bade entry, and in a tired voice, Shal's mom sat her down and told her they must talk. Deme's heart sank. Perhaps they'd changed their minds after all and this was the day of the proverbial other shoe falling and likewise it would be the day she was informed that she was no longer welcome at their hearth.

The shock turned to a quiet sort of horror, as miss Merri explained that the Matriarch had crossed the veil during childbirth. That was just how it was put, and Demetria thought it a strange choice of words. Maybe it was a gypsy thing, it certainly was not the way she'd ever heard death described. Demetria sat perfectly still in a mute trance of upset. Dead? The cold lady is dead? thought the girl.

Many children would have felt gladness at such news, given the history of Demetria's having been brought into Umbra's fold. Her child's mind refused to attempt to count the days, the months, that she was held as a slave for her transgression against one of the Umbran soldiers so long ago, for the many beatings and even more nights spent sleeping in the chill night in the public stable. But to this child, such a feeling was not on her list of responses. If it were not for the strange series of events that now had her in good standing as a Ruiner of Umbra, she would still be on the streets.

On the streets. Training the art of her bow in the dungeons and the woods, but nevertheless a street urchin. Innkeepers were not keen on the idea of giving room and board to a child, no matter how deeply lined with gold their pockets might be. She had come to Umbra as an orphan wanted by nobody, always trying to stay below the line of adult vision. Forcibly removed from the Heartwood for her transgressions, a child who didn't even know her true age or the day that others would celebrate as a birthday. Slow as the process had been, the child was beginning to realize that she really did have a family now. Yes, perhaps a strange family where there were no known blood ties, but family just the same. Now the person who gave this gift to her was gone. Gone!

The Lady Merrique stood, pulling a pizza from the oven, the cheese bubbling and perfect, and left it to cool on the table. She told Demetria to help herself. Shalcross would not be hunting with her today, she said. She told Deme that it would not be proper to not mourn on this day following the death of their leader and Deme nodded, knowing no other response. The girl was then told that there was much work to be done, and that she was welcome to stay if she wanted or that she could let herself out when she chose to go. Merrique left, heading somewhere on another level of the home, and Demetria sat alone in the impossibly quiet kitchen.

Time passed, how much so, Demetria had no idea. When the numbness of the news began to pass somewhat, she stood and quietly let herself out of the home and looked up into the blackness of the Malas sky.

The pizza stood cold and untouched on the table.

Sid · Seasoned Veteran Joined: 06 Aug 2006 Posts: 329

The King of Yew arrived in Umbra hoping to see the Matriarch and discuss some personal bussiness and when he arrived ,he was met with some hostility and graven faces and after some time he was told that the Matriarch was not ill but she was dead. blackness surrounded him quickly as he fell to his knee's and in the darkness he hears "you have killed her" and the thoughts repeat "she is dead I killed her " and then another voice says" congratulations you are a father" feeling overwhelmed he grasped the edge of the stairs and pulls himself up and stares at the four pairs of eyes watching him. he looks to them and asks very quietly "may I have a seat' and a kindly face offers him a seat and replys "a seat and then you shall be on your way" darkness begins to cloud his mind and the room begins to spin ,he trys to focus on the candle but it is traveling farther away and a dark mist blocks his vision............muffled voices and then silence.........peacefull darkness and silence.

Ardashir · Visitor Joined: 01 Oct 2008 Posts: 3 Location: Umbra

One, two then three flies trapped against the roof of Ardashir’s mouth in an attempt to escape their host. Though his children were loud, their incessant buzzing could not distract the Umbran from his thoughts. The recent death of his teacher Ceinwyn kept the otherwise scatter brained black monk thinking along a linear path “homo sine magistrum sum.” He spoke to his cup of blood, allowing his flies to flutter past his lips.

Taking a weak sip from the glass cup the black monk frowned heavily. He admired the Matriarch and considered her to be among his favourite people. Now there was a leader that knew how to have a good time, knew how to throw a party, knew how to make an old monk feel wanted. “Nunc quid reliquus in vitae est? Omnis tristitia in Umbra restant.”

Since he began making himself known, Ardashir had learned to pass himself off as either a daemon, vampire, monk or troubadour (sometimes a combination of the four). His tactic was the same with all his previous masters, to impress them with simple tricks and philosophy in order to con them and eventually capture their knowledge or soul, but with Ceinwyn he found someone that could be considered a true friend and so he simply watched and learned.

Using his free hand he lifted a mandolin which laid so close to a fallen musician. With a heavy frown he took a final sip then spilled the contents of the cup to the decaying body from which it came and brushed the back of his hand against his beard and chin as he posed the instrument. The sick bile he drank would feed the flies living in the vacant cavities of his chest and stomach. They were the only friends left to him now. “Cantat ad vos” He whispered before strumming an unskilled tune.

Cal Hurst · Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2008 10:41 pm Post subject:

Vaen stepped outside of the Sepulcher after the funeral was over, a light autumn breeze flowing through his hair and cape. He glanced up at the darkened sky with thoughts racing through his mind. How do you say goodbye? It never seems enough.

It was a fitting ceremony but he felt he hadn't quite done his part. The words he spoke to the casket were not enough for him, nor would they be enough in her eyes.

Sighing, he glanced down at his side and reached into his pouch, pulling out pieces of his armor. He turned towards the Sepulcher as he began strapping on the armor. Once all of his armor was on, he glanced back down to his pouch and retrieved his runebook.

Closing his eyes tightly, he let out another deep sigh. Thumbing through the pages in the runebook, trying to figure out where to go, a single page caught his eye. "Cove, Orc Fort." He smiled slightly, thinking back to the Orc stories Ceinwyn would tell about him. As a single tear fell from his eye onto the page, he spoke the words, "Sanctum Viatus."
_________________

Talon Skyfire · Posted: Thu Oct 02, 2008 1:45 am Post subject:

The Sanctians arrived after the Funeral Service, long after the body had been taken away. It would not be proper for Umbra's oldest enemies to be present during the ceremony.

The column of Black and Gold arrived afterwards, to the suprise of many Umbran citizens. Most did not know whether or not to draw blades at the sight of the Dragon Standard.

************

Talon stood upon the precipice of the void, looking down into the inky blackness.

He spoke to the Umbrans who were present, giving respects after his own fashion.

"Another Titan has passed. A pillar of stability for her people, and for Sosaria at large. While we have long been at odds, Sanctus and Umbra, Ceinwyn always displayed her own sense of honor and fairness. Her name shall be remembered in Sanctus as the worthiest of adversaries"

Talon drew the greatsword Ice from across his back and examined the blade. The holy sword had slain her people by the scores, but Ceinwyn had always held a morbid fascination with the blade, attempting to acquire it on numerous occasions. Talon placed a mailed hand on the hilt, and plucked forth a small runestone.

"The Sanctians have learned much from you, Matriarch. Take this trinket with you as you journey into the great beyond, that you may remember us as well as your own people."

His respects complete, Talon turned and departed, feeling every year of his old age as another great figure passed.
_________________
~Lord Talon Skyfire
King of Sanctus
Lord Protector of Malas

Spawn · Sage Joined: 30 Dec 2003 Posts: 556 Location: New York

Spawn returned to his Sanctus home after attending the Matriarch's funeral. He made his way up to his study to reflect on what he was feeling at the tragedic event. Once inside his study, Spawn sat down at his desk as random thoughts entered his mind. He rarely interacted with the Umbra Matriarch except when he was possessed by the evil Oggaroth. Despite that, he felt saddened by the Matriarch's passing but his own physical state as well. Spawn stood up from his desk after a few moments of pondering and left his study to the outside of his home. His servant Patrick stood in the hallway leading out of the house cleaning the statue that Spawn had made of himself.

"Greetings Lord Spawn" said Patrick bowing politely as Spawn approached him.

"Hello there Patrick" Spawn said giving the servant a small nod as he walked past him.

"May I ask where you are going sire?" asked Patrick following Spawn outside to the front of his house. Both men were on the grass as Spawn began to cast a spell to open a gate to an unknown location.

"Come with me" Spawn said as he stepped into the gate and disappeared into the glowing red mass. Patrick nodded slowly and followed him into the gate which brought both of them in front of a decayed building somewhere in the Felucca facet. Patrick watched Spawn as he entered the run down building with a concerned look on his face.

"What is this place M'lord?" asked Patrick as he followed Spawn inside the building. The inside of the building looked just as bad as the outside with everything all in ruins. The building looked like it used to be a tavern of some sort. Spawn walked around the ruined tavern running his hand against the worn bar counter picking up random items such as cracked mugs and dusty plates. Patrick looked at the expression on Spawn's face which made him realize that this place meant something to his employer. Spawn walked out of the ruined tavern with Patrick following behind. The servant glanced at the sign which was he surprised to be able to read. The sign said "The Hungry Halfling Tavern" which made everything clear to the servant. He knew about Spawn and Rivendell which was a huge part of his life. Patrick watched as Spawn made his way around towards an empty farm field which was north of the tavern. "Is this Rivendell sire?" asked the servant.

"Yes Patrick... This is Rivendell" Spawn said kneeling down on the dirt field. He stuck his hand into the dirt and picked some up from the field. "This city was grand and full of life long ago" said Spawn looking at the dirt in his hand. He let out a deep sigh before dropping the dirt back onto the field. "Now it is just an aging relic like myself" He said standing to his feet taking a slow glimpse around him. The autumn breeze began to flow across the field through Spawn's hair. Patrick looked at Spawn with a saddened look on his face, knowing that Spawn like this place he was at was aging and soon would decay.

Spawn casted a spell which opened another gate on the field. He took one last look at the buildings and landmarks that once made Rivendell.

"Time for us to go Patrick..." Spawn said stepping into the gate disappearing from the field. Patrick nodded slowly and stepped into the gate which took them back to Spawn's home.
_________________

Xandria · Posted: Thu Oct 02, 2008 11:33 pm Post subject:

Xandria waited quietly, until all the mourners had left the building. She crept in, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light. Noticing the blood and gore on the floor, she picked up her skirt, walking carefully to the hole where Cein's body had been thrown in.

She carefully lifted her skirt more, kneeling before the altar, her head bowed low.

"Hello Frigid one," she started, a small smile in place. "You know, you totally defeated the purpose of being immortal by dying. Such a silly thing to do, dying."

She gave a deep breath, and looked back and forth, her eyes narrow and ever watching. She tucked her skirt underneath, sitting down on the ground in front of the void. "You really did help me through a tough time. I know I never thanked you properly, but now, I can. " She gave a rare true smile and nodded. "I know I'm a pain, but truly, old habits are hard to break."

With a small sigh, she stood up, and twirled her hand, a perfect purple rose appearing before her. She threw it into the abyss, then turned, walking slowly out, her eyes watching for any coming forth.

Thrax · Posted: Fri Oct 03, 2008 8:26 pm Post subject: Thoughts of An Observer

Look at them... how they mourn her... and they don't even know...

He had decided to forego the celebration. It was too... human.

From a good distance, and completely hidden from view, Anthraxas observed the funeral proceedings, taking special note of all those present especially those that he could recognize. He saw the standard of Sanctus fluttering in the breeze.

They should be dancing for joy in their virtuous streets. What in the nine hells are *they* doing here?

His thoughts turned to the child... his child... Kale. She was beautiful; tiny, and innocent. The connection between them was strong; a bond that he had never felt before, one that dominated his thoughts and brought out the paternal instinct common to most humans.

Now I know why they die so willingly to protect their own.

He would destroy the world to preserve Kale.

Ceinwyn, come back to me. Do not leave me to raise our child alone. I need you.

As if answering him, a cold wind rushed past him, creaking the gnarled limbs of the bare trees among which he hid.

"I am here..." came the voice again, carried on the wind. He paused to listen, but there was nothing more, only the hollow echo of noble sentiments, the chill damp air of Umbra on his face, and the scent of decay in his nostrils.

He turned away slowly. In his mind the image of a babe's dark but flashing red eyes looked up at him from its cradle.

He could see Ceinwyn in them .

Drakar Al Salam · Visitor Joined: 18 Aug 2008 Posts: 10

He appeared out of the shadows when the hall was finally empty, his form a misty shadow, gently gliding to the edge of the pit he stared in,with no real emotion, he had long ago become void of most. The idea she had gone like so many others and would not return felt odd. He silently stood for a moment more, wondering if she were truly beyond the shadowed doors of death, or if she would somehow return. It did not really matter she had left her mark in umbra and so many other places. He looked for a moment longer and in one of his few bouts of emotion, chuckled a bit wondering if she would find cheesecake.... Fair travels maitriarch he whispered .. At that moment the door started to creek and he faded back into the plane of shadow his thoughts shifting to the hunt to come.
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Death was only the catalyst that reborn me of the shadow.

Starfire · Posted: Sat Oct 04, 2008 10:47 pm Post subject: funeral

Tatiana could not believe it, Miss Cein was dead. Surely it was another trick like the ones Beowulf performed. But as she looked at the casket, she couldn't help but doubt. "Maybe she really is dead." She burst into sobs, crying for the lady who looked after her and Grigori.....the lady she had known some time and, yes, had called friend. She prayed she was wrong and that Miss Cein, too, would come back.
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aka: Tatiana Thorn nee Alexi; Summer Kane; Ivory Skyfire; and others