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[NOT Malorn]

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Voices began building in the dark, deep confines of his mind. The subtle and insignificant clangorous ring was growing and evolving into a constant report. The vice-grip which contained his head was steadily closing at an alarming rate. Time was slinking away from the immortal as inevitably as maggots upon a corpse. The word lingered. Immortal? Death Finds all. Is that not what I always preached? The simple incident of my birth taught me this. Confining himself to his manor proved a deadly mistake. The time had arrived and so much had yet been accomplished.

Mistake. Was it truly? Am I not better off? My life has served as a waste of a soul. And many others’ as well. His thoughts floated about his cranium as if they were thick miasma; powder smoke clouds build from the constant shots ringing in his ears. Something he waited so long for now proved entirely unwelcome. Death had been his life, and his one goal, and yet fear of the reaper overpowered him on his deathbed. Everyone was supposed to be freed with him. Destruction and Death themselves were meant to quiver and cower at his feet as the Savior of Sosaria stood for Judgment. So much had yet been accomplished.

He took up a pen and parchment and attempted to organize his thoughts.

Cear… My friend,
I regret to write you under such conditions. I would have truly enjoyed marching under your banner once more, but time will not permit. Strive, my friend, for the Cabals’ dream will ring true one day even if I will never see it. If one man can bring forth freedom to Sosaria, it is you. I must thank you my friend; because of you, and your teachings, I could be enlightened before my death. Deliver this world to salvation, and accept nothing less Cear.

My Strength be With You Friend,
Your Loyal Follower and Commander always,
Lord Toren Smythe

He bound the letter in its envelope and sent it off to Blackrock.

His work would never be finished and he would never see true salvation and absolute peace. The land would forever be blighted by life in his eyes. Sosaria would remain poisoned in his memories.

Memories. Life. All of my memories. The thought of his parents waylaid him. It had been so long since then. A Lifetime. His characteristically smug smirk was nowhere to be found. A soft smile crossed the dieing man’s lips. The memory of his family was vivid, and the guilt was still so strong. Their faces shone through the fire in his mind. A tear coursed down his hard, slightly wrinkled cheek. His family was waiting for him, and had been for nearly forty years. As he closed his watered eyes words ran through his mind… ones he had never said in life. I love you, all of you, and I‘m so sorry. So much had yet been accomplished in life, and the tired old man was careless to it now. His family awaited him, and the guilt he felt for all his life would no longer matter. He halted as time stepped boldly forward, and directly past him.

[Xandria]

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Xandria stood staring at the house before her as she muttered softly to herself. Toren should be able to help, she thought. He’ll make it all better, and everything will go back to normal. She opened the door and stepped in. Upon quick inspection of the familiar home she noticed there was a light layer of dust covering the surfaces. She cringed as she glanced about. Slowly she made her way up the flight of stairs. As she reached the bedroom, she stopped short. Placing her hand on the doorknob, she tilted her head, staring quizzically at the door. Death? How interesting. Swishing her tail in excitement she cracked the door open slightly.


A pestilent scream filled her and she exhaled it. “Wake Up!”


Xandria flung the door open the rest of the way, and stomped over to the bed. Staring down at Toren brought a sudden realization to her. “No!” she chanted, and began to kick the bed in time with her rant. After a short time she ceased, breathing heavily. “You weren’t supposed to die on me; you were supposed to help.” As she turned to leave, she noticed a knife on the bedside table. She took it in her hand, and thrust it into the corpse’s eye with indiscriminate rage. Shaking her head, a cold tear slowly slid down her face. “In pace requiescat“, she whispered before shutting the door, and walking out of the house forever

[Cear Dallben ZOG]

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Cear sat slouched on a chair facing the ocean outside his home when a breeze brought an unnoticed letter from his door step to his hand

Interesting

As Cear read the letter he smiled faintly seeing it was from a friend, vut as time went on......that particular smile faded away never to be thought of again.

a feeling of intence rage radiated thru Cears body like waves, yet he remained completly relaxed, enjoying it fully.

There will have to be a funeral. So Toren can have my thanks...my assurance..that he was amung the finest, to serve the Cabal.

Cear refolded the letter from Toren and weighted it down with the Globe of Chaos in his home as we walked to the roof of his Keep to reflect.


Khaldun...Jhelom......Lamento U'har......The Time Lord....Lenmir....Blackrock.....What if Toren never was.....
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[NightShade]

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Bloody tears streamed down Shade's face as they dripped silently onto the material in her hands. With a needle in hand she slowly placed the last stitch crudely sewn into her white gown. Each stitch had brought a new wealth of pain and she had sat daydreaming enjoying the heart rendering pain as loves poison slowly leaked out of her soul.

White, to punish myself then I will once more be fit to wear a shroud of darkness.

She sat silently upon the beach the waves covering her pale feet tugging at her black robe. The air had grown chilly but it did not phase her. In her heart she knew that he was gone. She had hoped by running from him she would be able to escape this inevitable loss but now at last she had come to face it and accept it. She would run no more.

A torrent of waves had risen out at sea and flung themselves against the shore, crashing loudly. The sky grew dark and cold and she stared out as she once had long ago, in another time, another place. She was angry he had left her behind they were supposed to cast the spell and cleanse all about them together, then she would have gladly cast off her immortality finding peace in no longer existing.

The water rose around her as the waves grew more violent clutching wildly at her tall frame drenching her and slowly dragging her out towards the angry sea. Pulling herself to a standing position she cast off her black shroud standing naked and defiant in the chilly water she removed the chain about her neck, the ring still clinging to its silver form.

Goodbye Toren....I cant say I am not jealous at your eternal peace.

The scar on her hand burned deeply and she stumbled a bit. Grasping the glittering trinket in her hand she threw it deep into the churning ocean and watched as it hungrily swallowed up her offering.

The waves went silent receding slightly. She donned her crudely sewn gown and cape a vision of bright white. She turned heading back towards Castle Blackrock where she once again silently renewed her vow to Chaos to serve no other, to be distracted no more. At last to bring the Cabals dreams to fruition and one day cast off this immortal toil and grace this poisoned realm with the purity of cleansing.
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Something is Wrong, I can still feel Existence...