TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by oh_brother »

Westian listened to the whispered promises of Lolth. Some of her words rang true, and Westian hated himself for acknowledging that. His powers felt drained, and every action he had taken to draw strength from Larethian since entering the chamber had felt weak and clumsy. And the tides of grak-graks – they could hold them back for a while, but how much longer? A minute? Two? Ultimately the weight of numbers would break them. Did they all have to die in a vain attempt to hold back the inevitable?

But then he looked around. Aurek, straining with every muscle to hold back the tides. Exhaustion and fatigue were written on his face, yet he found the strength to continue. Guree and Uumack. He had led the Trolins here to be used as fodder to delay the blackskulls, but now he saw that even in the darkest caverns noble spirits could exist. Even the king for all his bluster, and no doubt for all his past violent actions, had redeemed himself in death. Deephold, the old dwarf was using whatever strength he could find to hold back the tide, even though it looked hopeless. Haynuus, his gentle, simple spirit could be coming to an end, but he faced death with honour. Ameena, the pacifist, was using her skill to help a soul in distress. Petal, his old friend, and Falkor, both ready to make the undead pay dearly for every inch of ground they wanted. Helm, the changed man. And Passin. Westian had helped turn him from the dark paths; the quick, easy gain, he could not now abandon him.

Thank you for your offer. But I have a counter offer he whispered. How about my friends and I destroy these jumbled corpses, just like how we destroyed Dolo? Funny how the only servants you have are broken vessels. Maybe it is something you are doing wrong?

Knowing that the end was near, one way or the other, Westian did something he had been taught since his earliest days never to attempt. Forgetting the natural order of magic, forgetting his own safety he clambered onto the bulging beams of the door. Neta! he shouted out at the top of his voice through a gap in the wood, filling it with all the anger, shame, guilt and hate he felt for all those who had fallen, and would yet fall, this day.
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by beowuuf »

Oooooooh, sick burn! Nice :D And raw rune use? That will be fun to pay off!
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by ian_scho »

OOC - Ouch - Feel the rune. Become the rune.
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by beowuuf »

Theron reacted with a start to the gentle hand. Karnadee looked up at him, smiling a childish and impish smile. "You're an archmaster now. If you can't save me with all your powers, why do you think you could have saved me when we were young?" The girl's words had a childish tone to match her appearance, although the words themselves were far more adult.

Theron staggered back, pulling away from the girl. His face showed the strains of the emotions he had been put though. "You...you did that on purpose? Why would you do that?" he said, defensiveness and hurt evident.

"And now you've let me go..." she said with a richer, more adult voice. Karnadee dissolved like a mist.

"Wait, no!" said Theron, darting forwards. "I didn't mean to!" His hands stretched forth in to a mist that wafted to nothing. He was left, for a moment, to stand in the circle of sight as it faded.



While Falkor had been observing the final words between Theron and his sister, Ameena had been trying to pontificate one last time towards the raven. Again, the bird seemed to be acting as if it was taking in each word. Further distracted, Falkor was even less able to keep up with Ameena's words and was only able to throw out some halting sentences to it.

The raven tapped the soulstone again. "We seek Balance in all we do," the raven intoned, in a croaky impression of Theron, rather than the Grey Lord. And then the raven alighted with a powerful push up to the roof to fly around. The soulstone slipped fom Ameena's grasp, and shattered on the floor...


Haynuus stood up to face the powerful Gholst one last time. He picked up the circlet, and put it on his head. There had been two of them, just liek there were two of everything else now. And even though he held it in his hand, it seemd to be on the Low King's head too. That made four of them. Haynuus made a few attempts to put the circlet on his head, realising it didn't hurt when he missed. Satisfied it was probably there, he waited for its wisdom for the perfecvt final, defiant line...

To Gholst's view, Haynuus was patting his head, ignoring his foe. Gholst, enraged, moved towards the fighter...that then fell down to the ground. Gholst was caught wrong footed, his foe not where he expected. And then, Gholst's world exploded in to a multi-coloured explosion of pain and emptiness.


Westian stood up, focusing on the doorway before him. He could feel the connection to Aurek and Deephold. Both, in their way, seemed ot be more worthy vessels of Larethina than he. But then, wasn't that the point of NETA? The runes of alignment captured the essense of man's affect on the natural order. Their strength, their greed, their inquisitiveness, and their faith. Westian was in many ways not a perfect person, but was that the point. A perfect person had no need of faith. Faith was only tested when one had flaws and faults to fight again. When one had strengths and skills that required checking.

Lolth's rage in Westian's answers was great, and for a moment she lost her hold on Westian and the grak-graks. It was the singlemoment that Westian needed. He stretched forth his mind, one connected to everyone and everythign aroudn him, and sought for the perfect moment of divinity, offering up his own understanding of its nobility.. Asking for the world to reward him with one, small sign in return.

And then Westian needed to rest his staggered body on his staff. For a weight came to his shoulders. Usually, one High Lord would not touch the domanin of another. However, the Grey Lord was gone. Westian needed to thrust the understanding of what was happening throughout the room, allow the full import of it to touch everyone there, lest he go mad. Westian could feel Larethian's prescesne, the High Lord's mind acting through his cleric. Westian stretched forth a hand and uttered the rune he had in his mind. The echo of it worked through Aurek and Deephold, the two pushing the doors backwards as if they were cardboard. What had once been grak-graks - hideous and twisted forms now - looked for a moment with multi-facetted eyes widened in fear before they exploded in a maelstrom of wood and ice and air. Soorec was dead, and the will of Lolth that had kept these things bound was shattered. Black ichor was thrown to paint the walls of the corridor beyond.

Around Westian, there was an echoing, receeding scream in his mind. One filled with an infinite anger at Westian and his actions. However, his head was cushioned from it. Just as is body was cushioned from toppling forward, by some divine hand slowly letting him fall to a kneee to rest. And then, the presence was gone. For one High Lord did not intrude upon the domain of another.


Ameena was left staring at the shattered soul stone, the parts glowing still. Just as she was about to act, however, a gentle yet calloused hand placed itself upon her to stop her. Despite the strangeness of it, she did not feel feear. A figure bent down at her side, and reached forth its other hand. It traced the broken areas in between with its finger, and the stones dances and came together again to be whole. A hand reached out to pick the stone up, and the man handed the stone back to Ameena.

Ameena face face to face with an imposingly larger old man, trimmed grey hair and beard, and infinitely deep, blue eyes. They seemed to sparkle with mischief, and compassion, ad inquisitiveness. "Please, keep this safe for me, gentle murafu," he said, with a smile. Then his face fell to great sadness as he looked across to Theron.

Theron stood, his hands uplifted, the elements of DES and ZO falling from his hands as he pulled away the spirits Gholst had trapped, and then assaulted Gholst himself with the emptiness of the void. "Theron. Enough," said the Grey Lord, placing a hand on Theron's shoulders. Theron stiffen immediately at the voice, turning to face his master.

"My, my Lord-"

"No one's Lord"

"I..I..." Theron crumpled before his master, tears in his eyes. The Grey Lord bent down to pat Theron on the shoudler, though his face was balanced and impassive. The Grey Lord then stood up, and looked around the room. "I had thoguht I would come back to find my champions." The Grey Lord then nodded his head to those in the room. "Perhaps I did."



Ok guys! You've now officially done it :D Karnadee rested and Theron free. Check. Gholst defeated. Check. Lolth banished once more. Check. Bad guys wiped out? Check. Grey Lord caled back? Check. WELL DONE!

React as you wish, and then I shall move us in to epilogue mode for the next day or so :D Tiem to write out your final posts in your head on what you think your characters will actually do from here on out!
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by Ameena »

Ameena looks up at the Grey One. Finally he's here! Now he can help! Though on glancing around, it seems that there isn't much help to be needed any more - there are no further cries of battle from off to the side so it would seem that her friends have won over after all. She isn't sure she wants to look, though - what might she see?
She watches the interaction between Theron and the Grey One. Well, at least that's going better than last time.
"Murafu aren't champions." she says, this time resting the Soulstone on the ground so that she can't accidentally drop it again. "We just...are. Um..."
She glances at the Soulstone and then back to the Grey One.
"I don't know if I can keep this safe. It's a bit big for me to carry, and murafu don't really keep things. I mean, one murafu never keeps anything for very long - things get passed around between us. But I could make sure it gets stashed away somewhere, if that's what you mean."

OOC - Note that I do intend to ask about Ardur but it would seem like a bit of a random and abrupt subject-change, so I'll see how the Grey Lord is gonna respond to this bit first and then probably remember ;).
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by oh_brother »

Yaaayy! We did it! I have a mental image of a Grey Lord sprite appearing before us and giving the standard post-victory hug a la DM and CSB!

Westian could not help but be impressed by the intrusion of Larethian himself – for who else could it be? – into this domain. He had never felt the physical presence of his High Lord before, and laughed with joy and relief as the hordes of undead were blown away like dust. His fatigue now forgotten, he whispered some words – too low to be overheard – while on his knees, before getting to his feet.

He clasped Aurek and Deephold closely in turn, still laughing with delight. “We did it, my brothers!”

Not forgetting his Trolin allies he grabbed them too. “Your exploits, and the sacrifice of your brethren and your king, will not be forgotten, I promise you. The stories of this day will be told and retold by our children and their children!”

He looked around to the rest of his party, and at the sight of the Grey Lord began to make his way towards him. But then he noticed Haynuus, bleeding, battered, and barely standing. He hurriedly created a VI potion and moved towards the half-orc. He palmed the flask off to him, and clasped him happily, if somewhat gingerly to avoid opening any half-healed wounds.

“You stood toe-to-toe with that monster, Haynuus, not many other here could have done that” vigorously shaking his hand while simultaneously slapping him on the back. “You have fulfilled all that was asked of you and more, and I release you from your commitments. Also I will see to it that the Church of Larethian rewards you for all you have done. If there is something you want – and it is within my power to deliver it – I will make sure you get it.”

Will pop over to say goodbye to the rest of the room next post!
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by Lord_BoNes »

Aurek nearly fell over as the pressure on the door suddenly eased. The undead grak-graks had been defeated. It was then that he got the chance to glance around the room... Gholst had fallen, Karnadee was gone, and a strange grey-haired man had appeared... a man that could only be the Grey Lord himself.

"Westian! We did it!" he cried out in joy, watching the cleric run across the room to the aid of Haynuus.
"Haynuus my friend, you can't give in just yet. Not when we've finally succeeded." said the paladin, running to help the fallen half-orc.

The paladin looked around the room. "We beat them for you, my brother. You can rest in peace." he thought to himself.
 
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by ian_scho »

"Ouch", "Ouch", "Ahghhh". Murmurred Haynuus into the empty VI flask while receiving the slapping. The ecstatic cleric was indeedly most happy from smiting evil and purging the wrongness in the world. He appreciated his kind words and especially his 'release' from his bonds. To be perfectly honest Haynuus didn't appreciate just how gleeful the half-elf could be when up to his waist in violence against the forces of darkness. He'd assumed that his work was going to be more of a 'don't mug the funny dressed dude' type task with the obligatory sour faced look a retainer should wear. He recalled back at the inn when Westian had made his cash-free offer. He would have picked up the work with the fat merchant's wife gutting swine for the rest of his life... But a life rendering animal carcasses was not for him. And now at least he had a 'business opportunity' with screamers.

He appreciated the help up from Aurek. "I still remember..." said Haynuus in a tired voice "...you fencing with that undead grak-grak in Soorec's room. Never seen swordplay like that." he sniffed. "It was as if you could carry it off for weeks. Huzzah! Take thaaat fiend! You even scared the screamer away with all of the theatre." he chuckled to himself. Truth be told. The paladin looked a little less intense than before. Maybe he could even corrupt him with a little ale later on when they get out.

He cast a glance around him. Some unassuming grey dude was helping Theron the archmaster-wotsit with Ameena. Jeez, he hoped the new guy with a beard won't turn out to be another psychopath like the gnome. Haynuus recalled at first glance it was Soorec who appeared to be the only sane one in the dungeon.

He hobbled over to Ameena. "Hey..." There wasn't much to be said, but he knew that she had saved his little world by her antics. "Thanks for doin' some of the clever-thinky stuff for me. Not sure what you were supposed to be doing this last half hour but I wreckon things turned out just swimmingly due to your actions. Truly the meek shall one day rule the earth..." he said quoting for someone's pamphlet he was given "...and especially those with beards." he chuckled to himself. He reckoned Ameena possessed sufficient facial hair to be the first in the queue.

OOC - Will poke Theron in the eye later. Give a slap on the back to Petal and some trolins as well!
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by beowuuf »

The Grey Lord looks backwards at Ameena's words. "Oh, just for a moment longer," he says regarding the soul stone. "I would not impose myself upon you more than has been done already. A champion is not just one who fights for a cause. A champion can be one who carries that which is right and true in to the heart of darkess, a beacon and example to others." He then looks to Theron. "No, you will not have to keep the stone for more than a moment longer. I am not looking to rid myself of it. I think recent events have shown its presence is more than necessary."

As the Grey Lord ensured the man was recovered, Theron tried to explain, however the Grey Lord cut him off. "I think I understand well enough, Theron. Please, the stone. Go place it where it once was." Theron looked confused, but moved as the Grey Lord commanded. "I...you both...I am so sorry," he said to Falkor and Ameena, recovering the stone from Ameena's possession. "I...thank you. For your words." Clearly Theron was still in emotional pain as he looked ot the blank spot his sister had once stood, but clearly the earlier words to him were coming clear. He sighed, and moved across to the plinth where the stone had once rested.

Petal, Helm and Passin came from the other door where they had been as the Grey Lord moved off. The fact that whatever Westian had done had spread across thew whole room and destoyed the grak-graks there was still something all three were processing. Helm moved across to where Ameena and Falkor were. He gave an embarrassed nod to the halfling mage, and then knelt down to Ameena. "Are you alright?" He looked around, shocked. "Did...did we do it?" He looked to the retreating archmages. "Those are Theron and the Grey Lord, aren't they?" he asked wit ha breathless whisper to the two smallfigures. His eyes were widened. "Did...did he call us champions?"

Petal flittered around. She moved over to where the three were, and gave a quick wave and smile to them, however she seemed to want to go to where Westian and the rest where, to discover what power had been unleashed.

Passin stood awkwardly at the edge of the raised dias, looking aroudn the room. It was clear fro mthe look on his face that he had felt, deeply, the echoes of the power of Larethian. And now he could see the Grey Lord, it was hard not to feel that quiet power there too. The Grey Lord had been moving to the altar in the centre of the room, but stopped and turned to face the once blackskull. PAssin's eyes widened as he obviously met the inquisitive gaze of the Grey Lord. "And you, you lost something in the times of Lord Chaos," said the Grey Lord.

"Someone," said Passin, with bitterness, his hand going to his pocket.

The Grey Lord had a look of infinite sadness. "That was not what I meant, but I am sorry for your loss. That loss...that loss can never be recovered, only honoured." The Grey Lord then raised an eyebrow. "I speak of something else you seem to have regained." The Grey Lord turned aay from Passin, leaving the man looking confused and thoughtful. The Grey Lord's sad face then faded, and anger creased his features as he saw the bodies of the blackskulls around the central RA Altar. He gestured to the armour Passin had rejected, and ity began to heat up and crumble, the Grey Lord's rage at seeing an artifact of those that had destroyed Ya-Brodin. Words came from the Grey Lord, they sounded arcane as they rolled around the chamber. Only Aurek would recognise them as words of petition, to the elements of air and water than had begun to gather at Kakaluka's command. The blood that had soiled the altar was washed clean by the power of VI. Air elementals replaced the lid of the altar, and began to lift up the bodies of the blackskulls. Their armour was stripped away, crushed to nothing but metallic dust in the air as the bodies were carried up to the emerald dome of this place.

And vanished.

The Grey Lord then sighed, dismissing his rage. With a powerful gesture, the RA altar was dismissed back to where it should have been. Satisfied, the Grey Lord whispered thanks to the elements for their aid, and a request to send work to the Great Elements that he would visit them soon in person.

The Grey Lord then continued his walk forwards, towards where Westian and Aurek had moved across to the half-orc, with Deephold, Uumack and Guree in tow. He gave them a moment together, taking the time to tidy up the body of Dargat. The Tazan armour the Grey Lord removed and gathered in an ordered pile, as if a knight were lying on the ground. Dargat's body,for some reason, filled the Grey Lord with great sadness. The Grey Lord whispered words of magic, and the tattooes and blood were removed from the orc's body. There seemed to be a hesitation, but then the Grey Lord used his magics to lift the orc upwards to the emerald dome,where he too vanished.

The Grey Lord then cast an orb of sight, bringing back in to focus the spirits that were gathered around. Kakaluka, The Trolin King and Umgold. Deephold took the opportunity of giving a wary bow to the Grey Lord, and moved to where Umgold was. The Grey Lord returned the bow to Deephold's surprise, and let the dwarf move on. Umgold did not say anything, merely gave Deephold the greatsword and then smiled. The ghost vanished, and Deephold brushed something from his eye and looked ot the weapon.

The Trolin King looked defiantly to the Grey Lord as the High Lord passed. The Grey Lord paused. "The name of Grrlagalarr will be remembered as a champion, just the same as those still living." The King nodded in arrogance, as if it was expected, but there was a movement as if a weight had been lifted fro mthe Troliin. He drifted tothe edge of the circle of sight, where Uumack was standing. The King gave his own club to Uumack, and then he, too, faded.

The Grey Lord himself stood before Kakaluca. "I am sorry my own powers alone could not return you to your rest, old friend," he said to the man. Kakaluca merely placed his hand over his heart, and bowed low to the Grey Lord. Kakaluca then growed as he noticed his signet rin on Westian's finger. Then he, too, bowed to Westian. The circlet was removed from his head, and the broken falchion and it were given to the Grey Lord. The Grey Lord seemed to understand, and with a sad smile watched the Low King disappear.

The High Lord turned to Haynuus. The Grey Lord glanced to the greatsword in Deephold's hand, and the banded mail on the half-orc's body. He them looked ot the circlet and falchion in his own had, and with a gesture also brought the squashed bag back of Haynuus to the half-orc's feet. "You seem to have two choices of destiny," the Grey Lord intoned with a smile. "One where a blade blessed by VI and OH becomes a ploughshare greater than any weapon forged. And the wisdom of kings is put to a use far greater than conquest and battle." The Grey Lord gave the items to Haynuus. "You are the child of two words though. Perhaps you can balance two destinies as well as one."

The Grey Lord then looked to Aurek. "I can feel a powerful soul, tempered by knowledge in you," he said. The Grey Lord looked to the Tazan armour, now glowing once more. "I fear this armour requires a guardian, for it has once more felt the touch of the Cult of Death." The Grey Lord looked to Aurek. "Would you accept the burden of the seven symbols of the brave? Shield Defiant, the Soul Cage, the Regulator, and the four pieces of the Tazan Armour? The world would be a safer place if you would. And it has powers that might gift you a peace of mind you have not known before."

The Grey Lord left on that enegmatic note to look to Westian. "I am not sure what I can say to you," he says to the half-elf. "Not for any reason of ill, simply that I feel the mark of my Brother strongly upon you. You are a champion of Larethian, and as such have acted no less than any other of his champions in history. You have my respect, and my thanks, but I can offer no other words of wisdom that are not His right to impart." The Grey Lord seemed to reconsider. "There is perhaps one thing I can do for you." The Grey Lord reached forth his gnarled hand, and placed it gently on Westian's brow. All at once, the echoing of each others thoughts that had been in the minds of those gathered slowly receeded until each was alone in their own heads again. Westian himself could still feel, somewhere, the slight chatter of it though. "You, you will not be fully rid of the mark my own domain has placed upon you, I am afraid," said the Grey Lord. "That is perhaps not a bad thing." The Grey Lord then looked to Westian's finger, and the signet ring there. "That was the mark of the royal line of Viborg. Those who wore it swore to protect Viborg from Mount Anaias to the outer village of Bibogu. Keep that in mind if you keep it." The Grey Lord said it with a smile.

It was then that Deephold moved forwards. He wore a frown on his face. Westian recognised the look. It was look when he was trying to phrase a lecture to an elder of the church.


Ok, I will leave that epic update there. I'll let you all react to it, add any more reactions and interactions, and then over the weekend I'll have the Grey Lord speak his last words. After that, we can work on a further epilogue, and you guys can be free to chat IC, but I think it's probably a good place to end on.

Whew!
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by Ameena »

Ameena hands the Soulstone up to Theron as the human comes to take it, and gives a friendly whisker-twitch to acknowledge his words. When Helm comes over, she eagerly brushes her whiskers against him and puts her forepaws on his leg as he kneels down.
"He said we were champions, yes." she replies. "But that's just a word. I suppose there are some people in the world who would think we weren't. i'm still just a murafu - I don't feel any different except that I'm so relieved this is over. It's all done - the Soulstone got fixed. All the undead things seem to have gone. And..."
She looks around the room, quickly taking in all who stand there.
"All my friends are still here. Well, nearly all..."
She movs away from Helm across the room, pausing near Passin for a moment and looking up at him, the Grey One having already spoken to the apparently-bewildered human.
"Now it's all over." she says brightly. "I don't think there'll be any more Blackskull people trying to get you to join them. You can go outside into the rest of the world, if you want, and live a life which has less death in it."
She moves on a little more, looking over to the Grey One as he makes his way around the rest of the group, giving them each their own words and letting them keep some of the things they've found throughout the dungeon. On this thought, Ameena divests herself of everything she herself had found - she removes everything from the pouches first, laying them in a tidy pile on the floor - two empty potion flasks, one smaller flask which still contians water (Ameena drinks some before placing this on the floor), the wand, the piece of black cloth, the strange stones who use she had never quite figured out, the knife she doesn't intent to keep any longer because of where it came from, and a piece of rather tattered string. Finally, she even removes the makeshift belt with its assorted pouches and leaves this on the floor beside the other items. Since she hopes to be leaving here soon, she has decided that things she found here should stay there. She doesn't want to accidentally take something magical and have it cause problems elsewhere in the world, after all.
Meanwhile, the Grey One seems to have finished addressing Westian. Ameena moves forward a little more, now several human-steps behind the Grey One, and raises herself upright to speak.
"Umm...excuse me, Grey One." she says. "There's still someone else missing - his name is Ardur. His friend SerFarel is dead now but after he was killed he came and asked me to make sure Ardur is safe. I would have done anyway. Serfarrel said the Elements were keeping him safe - could you, maybe, use magic to ask them to bring him up here? Or show me how to reach him myself? Even though he's with the Elements he still might be scared, and he's probably sad because Serfarrel is dead."
Then, because she doesn't really know how this sort of thing works, these people with their strange rules, she quickly adds...
"Um...is there something I have to give you in return for that, if you help him? I mean, for doing something, do people have to do something for you? I've heard more than once that you follow some kind of...balance, so that everything is equal, that's all..."
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by oh_brother »

Westian was somewhat awe-struck when the Grey Lord – the GREY LORD – walked over to the group. His laughter and babbling words, caused in equal parts by joy and relief, deserted him as he listened open-mouthed to the Grey Lord addressing the group in turn. When he made it Westian the half-elf was standing wide-eyed, with his mouth still hanging slightly open.

He stuttered out a thank you at the gift, and nodded enthusiastically at mention of defending Viborg. “I will do whatever I can to defend these lands” he gushed, even though he had never had even the slightest intention of doing that before.

“Viborg will be safe with me” he continued without thinking. Then, realising that that was quite a boast, he clarified. “Um...I don’t mean that I will be able to protect the lands as well as I should, but I will certainly do all in my power to attempt to protect them. Um...yes. And I will do my best to see good relationships restored between the surface races and those who dwell below” he added with a sudden flash of inspiration, glancing around to Guree and Uumack.

He nervously eyed Deephold as it began to dawn on him that a lecture was about to ensue. Unable to tear himself away yet, he just looked around to Ameena while the Grey Lord was dealing with someone else. “Well done Ameena!” he whispered happily, the smile returning to his face. "I am not fully sure what you did, but it seemed to have worked. I am sure we will have a lot of time to discuss it once we have left this mountain!" He approached with the plan of embracing her as he had the others, but then realised that it was not comfortable given the size difference. He drew back uncertainly, and then awkwardly patted her on the head, hoping that would not be interpreted as patronising.
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by Ameena »

As she waits to see how the Grey One will respond to her inquiry, Ameena looks happily up at Westian as he approaches her, for some reason looking a little awkward. She rubs her side against him and twitches her whiskers at him.

OOC - Basically if you want to pick Ameena up/give her a hug, she won't object - remember that physical contact is an important part of everyday life among the Murafu so she won't have any problem with anything like that so long as you don't squish her too hard ;). Assume that she returns the gesture as best she can, and with enthusiasm. And that you get a faceful of tickly whiskers in the process :).
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by ian_scho »

Ah so it was the Grey Lord. Of course Haynuus was familiar with him after hearing so many tales from both the humans and indeed a few orcs. "Thanks." was all he could muster, however. He was never very good in the presence of nobles, lords, giants or gods. He was just Haynuus after all. He appreciated The Grey Lord's kindness, and especially the shiny things that he was given. He really needed to give this banded mail armour a bit of a wash as well as the previous occupant was both proud and a zombie. He would do his utmost to look after them all... And promised himself to not resort to using them too often.

He spied Helm and smiled at the young human's awe of being called a 'champion'. He had seen him change so much over the course of their travels that he did indeed deserver the title. "Well done, Helm. I shall always remember our discrete exchange of gifts while being marched by the Black Skulls. You have the mark of the rogue! However, there is one other mark that remains. I felt it before... And I believe that I possess an antidote to your ailment." With that he produced his Anti Venom flask from his back pack. Gholst had stepped on it to squash the that most important screamer mulch stashed away in there but they had also protected the precious liquid from the unnatural weight of a deceased orc and it's possessed spirit.

He then returned to the trolins. They were what remained of a proud army but their sacrifice will be remembered. "Uumack. Obviously I release you from your own promise that you made to me. It would not be right as you are now the wielder of the weapon of kings." As Haynuus had tried and failed to wield it then he knew what a difficult task that would be! He patted Guree on the shoulder, and whispered "He'll probably need a little help from someone with a reputation such as yourself."

Finally it was Petal. Big hugz for the pixie ensued, and only because he knew that she was clean out of mana reserves otherwise he would never have been so forward! "I hope you find your friend..." was all he said.

Haynuus looked at the falchion in his hand and popped the circlet on his head. Both would be eminently useful as he thought to himself. Now where were those screamers again?
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by beowuuf »

The Grey Lord left the babbling Westian hanging, not indicating if such a need for protection of the region was serious or not. Perhaps that was not a question the Grey Lord could answer, for he was outside of the bounds of Viborg politics. Deephold instead placed a restraining hand on his fellow cleric, nodding to indicate that the dwarf approved of Westian's declarations. MEanwhile, the Grey Lord was already looking to Deephold, one bushy eyebrow raised in gentle query. However, the murafu moved quicker, and her swift words seemed to diffuse the tension, or rather seemed to puncture the moment that Deephold was about to use to create it, it seemed.

Helm had stayed close to Ameena, apparently as happy as she was that all the others seemed alive - aside from the Trolin King, whom obviously Helm did not fully understand. Helm also seemed to agree with Ameena regarding not feeling liek a champion, despite it being announced. Or soundign as if it had. None of the heroes had means to know for sure anymore, because each - aside from Westian - was now alone with their thoughts once more. Helm took the offered potion from Haynuus, recalling their first strange interactions and giving a shy smile. His eyes widened as the anti-toxin worked its effects, and he rubbed his chest with wonder. The light pressure that had still been there seemed to have lifted, a pressure he had not even still been aware of until it had disappeared.

Passin, too, seemed to walk slowly forwards towards where the others were gathering. He looked around at the scene, so compeltely different from the one that he had first been a part of, and just as different from the aftermath of that a moment before. The blackskulls, their leaders, the altar he was to swear fealty upon and even the armour of his once-sergeant were all gone. He apparently had no reply for the murafu's words, if he had even understood them. Passin's life had just been changed in a way that bordered on miraculous, his old life swept away as if had never been. Only the blood on his sword - Petal's - and the dusty black ichor of the now gone grak-graks were hints any dark deeds had occurred. The physical and mental wounds the man had suffered not likely to be forgotten soon, either.

Meanwhile, of course, Ameena had left those two behind and was addressing the Grey Lord. The Grey Lord once more look down - quite far down to her, even though Ameena was standing up. He nodded, thoguh did not address her until she mentioned balance and payments. His eyes saddened. He looked across to Theron. "You are quite right, Balance must always be restored. However, events of the past and now the present ensure that the Balance is already tipped one way. Such boons - if they are even boons and not necessary recompence - are freely granted to clear a debt I owe the Balance. And now my apprentice owes, too." There was a hardness to the voice, and Theron - over by the plinth, hung his head without further word.

The Grey Lord stepped across to the plinth, and rested his hand gently upon the soultone. It flared in to brightness, though as Ameena, Petal and Falkor had found out already, the brightness did not blind, and all could look towards it.

"Brother Darcow Deephold," said the Grey Lord to the dwarf, "I fear that in the recent past I have chided against the gift from your order, resenting the underlying use to which you undoubtedly use it. I am sorry it has taken recent events to remind me that the world has every right to not only ask for my aid, but for my restraint in going where I will to deliver it." The Grey Lord then looked to Theron. "Theron, place your hand upon the stone." Theron did as he was big, not knowing exactly what was being asked.

The Grey Lord's face did not change, nor did his focus, but by the odd colours and flares of the soul stone, it was clear that his further words were coloured by his link to the stone. A stone that indimately linked the Grey Lord to his domain. "Gentle murafu, the one you call 'Serferrl" is no longer under my domain. Many spirits that were restless here, I feel, have now found a rest I could not provide." The Grey Lord nodded to the group, eyes flicking to Falkor and Westian's staff in particular. He then looked to Aurek and the Tazan armour as if considering something. The moment broke, and he moved on. "The one you call Ardur is indeed with the elementals in the cave. It is a simple matter for you to get to him as you take your leave. THe is in safe hands for now. The boy can find a home here, if one is required, but I assume he already has a path. Or that one of you would provide more suitable guidance on that path." The Grey Lord quickly looked ot Passin aswell. Whether the Grey Lord thought to join thoe two, or was logically thinking of Passin as another soul that now needed guidance in the world, he did not immediately make clear. "I do know the Duke of Banville, if it will help matters," said the Grey Lord, before moving on.

The Grey Lord carried on looking to Passin, and had apparently heard Ameena's previous comments to the man. "The Cult of Death is no longer in Mount Anaias." There was an undertone of anger in the Grey Lord's voice. Theron's eyes widened at the unexpcted show of anger, anger that was not apologised for after. "It seems that in the tunnels of the Great Wyrms, the pain rats have made a move there to remove the last of the expeditionary forces. The remaining bulk of their forces - those not slain by their own creations - was was dispatched by a Trolin army. The Trolins have suffered heavy losses, their most...violent...leaders have fallen. Only Morpoor seems to remain as a strong leader." The Grey Lord looked across to Uumack, who was stadning beside Haynuus and Westian. Despite Haynuus's assurances that Uumack was freed from his promise, there seemed to be some debate on the Trolin's face regarding taking up leadership. Guree had looked to Haynuus oddly, but did seem more inclined to push her fellow Trolin on his way to power. Westian's words of course suggested a reason Uumack had not considered to take the reins. The Trolins that had come hear under Chaos's rein had never been a welcome addition to the region. Was that about to change?

"The chambers that were taken by the leaders of the Cult are free of their creations, and will be reclaimed when I walk my halls once more." The Grey Lord's face crinkled, and he looked to Falkor. "It seems that one or two of Chaos's twisted creations feel...different. Perhaps they are not as lost as I once feared they were." The Grey Lord's face then actally lost focus, and he seemed to feel something else. He looked to Petal, who was still trying to make sure she had all her bones intact from the enthusiasm of Haynuus's greeting. "And it seemes that an area that was a blight to my mind had been untwisted. I feel the links to your handiwork?" Petal still had, to her surprise, her satchel with her carefully gathered scraps and samples. She had planned to present them to other elders, but perhaps the Grey Lord could help study them and discover a way to destroy the twisted magics. The Grey Lord looked at Petal for a moment longer, seemingly realising other thigns about Petal that - for the moment - he kept to himself. Clearly he would have further words with her in private, regardign the method of her escape, and the place from which she had come. A place it seemed the Grey Lord had not remembered existed.

The Grey Lord turned back to regard the group as a whole. "I can feel your passage through the dungeon by the changes you have left. Some I would not have consdiered possible. I fear Lord Chaos's works are not mine to undo, even if Balance demands. However, perhaps by the bravery and actions of others, much that should be undone or untwisted can be made whole."

Deephold shiftyed at that, but before the dwarf could say anything, the Grey Lord spoke more. The Grey Lord actually removed his hand from the soul stone, but motioned for Theron to keep his own hand upon it for the moment. "Brother Deephold, you organisation seems to have taken it upon itself to be my overseer. I would not presume, given what has occurred now, to stand on pride. Instead, let me simply say that I am sure Theron - now his heart is focused on the future of this world, not the past - will allow himself to be open to all the effects of the stone. And perhaps rather than resent your peripheral presence, I should be more honest with the concerns brought to me. Including that which distracted my attention this time." There seemed to be an undertow to that, a weight that obviously piqued deephold's curiosity as much as made him nervous. Where had the Grey Lord been all this time? What had focued the High Lord so tightly that he had been unaware of ths state of his own home until Ameena's actions had drawn his eye back again.

"My Lord, what do you ask of me?" asked Theron, hand on the stone and looking to his master, and the stone, in equal measure.

"I think you have already given it, Theron," said the Grey Lord, indicating the stone. "I can feel that you are ready for responsibilities now. Some of your own making, and some I am willing to give to you."

Theron looked shocked, his head bowed. "Afetr..after what has occured?" he said quietly.

"Because of it, Theron. You have a heavy burden or responsibilty, now. Your own actions - understandable in your mind even if not in your heart of hearts - have shifted the Balance. I would be remiss to not give you the means to readjst that Balance. Treat you as more of an equal, now I think your wisdom has grown, alas through this event."

The Grey Lord finally turned to the rest of the group. "Thank you my friends. You have banished a great evil frm this world, one that has plagued history and destroyed some of the greatest civilisations. One even I could not fully disband, depsite my efforts in my younger days. And you have also closed the door to an even greater evil, one older than the Great Thaw, and one that could corrupt the Cult of Death. The doors to this place are open to you to leave. And they will remain open to you, whenever you should you wish to return. Theron and I are in your debt."


The champions stood, not knowing to ask if the way were really open, if the disturbance that Ameena had found - the rift in tiem - were really gone. The flaring white of the soulstone had stripped - without any of those affected beign aware - the last of the false stream of consciousness. The white crack had disappeared from the cavern, and the upper levels, as if it had never been. In a way, it had not. The rift at the doorway was gone, the Hall of Champions whole once more. And soon to have more protraits to honour those who had aided the mountain, Viborg, and the world.

When the Grey Lord had finally touched Westian, the last, destructive magics the Grey Lord had invoked in a previous life had faded and died. The Grey Lord sadly realised what had happened, feeling that alternative life in the blink of an eye. He knew that the five that had been affected woud be fine. Those alternative experiences lost forever. Perhaps they would dimly recall meetings that - if anyone were to push further - seemed to be impossible. And perhaps Ameena, upon seeing depictuons of Lord Chaos or hearing tales of him, might think she had hear the stoies once, but no longer would her nights be plagued by visions, no longer would she feel the fear of them. Westian's order would be at a loss to explain how Aurek and Westian had managed to travel such great distances to find Deephold, and be forced to drop the matter of their leaving withour orders. Especially given Westian and Aureks assurances of such orders being gven.

These were little mysteries that would fade from the minds of everyone, and the world would never know what truly happened - save perhaps the Gret elementals, and the Grey Lord himself. Whenever any of the group came back to Mount Anaias, the Grey Lord would always ensure he paid full honour to those who had been Time's Champions.


Whew, managed to work the title in their clunkily. Which ,of course, means it's THE END!

Ok, not really, cause you guys can still react to each other and then generate an epilogue post about where your character ends up later. But *sniff* that's my last game update :of the game :( *sniff*
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by Ameena »

OOC - Oh yeah, I forgot Farel asked Ameena to make sue Ardur got somewhere, didn't he? Was taht the Duke of Banville, then? I mean, was she supposed to make sure Ardur was brought to him? I can't remember now...

BIC - "I'm glad this place is safe now." says Ameena. "Maybe I'll come back and explore it some more one day - the Murafu will want to meet the rat-creatures, if they'll be friendly. I think I made friends with one, anyway. There are so many interesting things down here, I think...they just seemed rather less intersting because so many things were trying to kill us all the time, or make our minds collapse. But I want to find Ardur and make sure he's alright. And then go outside and feel the Bright Eye once again..."
She looks around at those gathered.
"I'm glad you're feeling better now." she says to Theron. "I'm glad you didn't die."

Ameena the murafu departed Mount Anaias in the company of those who chose to travel back by the same route as she, via the cave of the elementals to retrieve Ardur and happily greet him and those who had protected him. She then made her way out of the cave. Her enthusiastic thanks were given to all those she'd befriended during her time in the dungeon and she made sure she stayed with Ardur until he'd got to wherever he was supposed to go, fulfilling the request Farel had made of her. As for her other friends, at the time they parted ways she bid each of them farewell in her usual manner, all whiskers and fur-rubbing. She told them that she'd pass on their story to other murafu, and that perhaps if others of her kind saw them in future they might recognise them and approach to say hello. Ameena herself was happy to be outside once again, though now knowing that Mount Anaias was safe she made a mental note to perhaps travel back there one day, in the company of some of her own kind. After her business with her dungeon companions was done, after Ardur had been safely dropped off and after the last of her friends had gone their own way, she made her way to the first murafu community she could find and spent several days there, telling her tale and starting its spread across the lands, at least among her kind. If any of her friends had wished it, she would have gladly let them join her in meeting her fellow murafu, happily introducing them and explaining their part(s) in the events that took place beneath the mountain.

OOC - Aaww waaah it's all over :(. It was great fun though! Even if I did end up RPing myself into a bit of a self-nerf situation and hardly ever backstabbing anything ;).
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by beowuuf »

You managed to put aside all that namby-pamby pacifism to backstab Dargat at one point (or Garax) in the final battle, and that the real moral of the story :D

And lol, you could have found out what the others were doing first OOC before your epilgoue, but woohoo - Ameena managed to get back to her fuzzles. And maybe one day she can go back to Anaia, and find out that the Grey Lord - thanks to Falkor's example and Ameena's befriending of small small - can actually talk ot the Pain Rats, who are a little less evil and vicious :D
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by Ameena »

OOC - Lol cool...maybe then, some murafu will end up living down there too ;).
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by ian_scho »

Our half-orc spent a few tentative moments thinking about his future. In his mind his plan was to leave this place with an abducted screamer under each arm and find somewhere quiet to propagate them, then sell the bits on. Just like cattle really, only noisier with less manure to step in. With Westian obviously sticking around the area and the Grey Lord maybe in need of his services as he will walk my halls once more to tidy up this place Haynuus had changed his mind as to the leaving part. He boldly approached the Grey Lord once more.

"Mister Grey Lordy. I will be more than proud to help you santize your realm here in the dungeon, performing both brute and menial tasks for your lordship. Your domain shall be returned to it's former state..." was that a good thing his circlet interceded? "...and both you and Theron now have someone at your disposal to aid in shaping this place to your own needs."

That of course would be Haynuus's day job. Haynuus knew that both the Grey Lord and Theron weren't going to spend all of their time worrying about what was going on inside Mount Anias and would have far more interesting things to do. The half-orc would have weeks if not months of free time not having to whip monster ass nor push some boulders around to clear an old path. Yes, Haynuus had time to investigate and propagate his idea of farming his screamers.

He told of his intentions to Westian as he would be in the area, and then left with Ameena and a few of the others to the surface. A quick trip to Viborg with some tearful goodbyes to his companions he had then bought enough 'stuff' that he thought might be useful for coralling screamers in a confined area. Upon his returned to the dungeon he ungainedly punched an oitu in the face until it fell over and tethered it via a long piece of rope to one of the more damp dungeon walls and started on the screamers.

--------

Years passed by with Haynuus offering a helping hand for a wide range of chors that the Lords of the dungeon required. They were varied and demanding at times. The most memorable chors had Theron basically telling Haynuus's circlet what to do, and the circlet infused Haynuus with the right action to undertake and at the right time. He even learnt to use a wand. Well only one wand. It was inevitable that he would learn a few basic tricks by mere asociation with these great and powerful wizards. The advantage of having Haynuus around is that he was completely trustworthy (what would he do with a Serpent Staff or a Vorpal Blade?) and lacked the imagination as to divine the intentions of the Arch Masters. He regularly caught up with the trolins on his travels through the dungeon and lived to see at least five trolin king coronations. It was tough being a politician, he presumed. He also whupped some undead ass, including his own if it was a dopple-ganging-grak-grak in his own form.

One of the advantages of being a force of nature with lots of local knowledge was that Theron would occasionally inform the half-orc that a team of novice adventurers had entered the dungeon for whatever reason. Holding a sense of fair-play Haynuus would tie off a screamer on a rope and tie it around his waist. Racing through the dungeon at full speed with the screamer bobbing around behind him it was Haynuus who would have positioned the first monster that the adventurers encountered. A somewhat bruised one at that, but a useful easy encounter to prepare what was coming. Occasionally he even had to break a few skeleton ribs or comically hold back a couple of mummies so as to not inundate the novices too quickly on those early levels. He would then leave them to their fate, happy in the knowledge they possessed a few of his screamer slices in their backpacks which would make death a little easier to bare.

His screamer business predictably went badly. There was very little demand for screamer consumption and he had a disasterous day when after selling a rather large screamer slice to a young couple in Viborg as it then developed a sense of 'me' while in the food cupboard and attacked the cheese sitting next to it. All hell let loose in the village with Haynuus having to rush around and calm everyone down that Lord Chaos had NOT returned and that the local cheese maker was not in league with the cult of death. Were it not for his work with the Grey Lord he would have gone destitute and survived on a diet of pure screamer. However his luck turned a 180º when a young wizard visited him to document the historical events of the champions. His entusiasm for screamers nearly rivalled that of Haynuus and soon he had opened up new markets (the wizards guild) and new ways of cultivating them safely. Haynuus would wander around the dungeon with a gauze over his mouth and some fast-on ear muffs making him impervious to all but their most physical attacks. He learnt about 'artificial insemination' from the apprentice and was to practically automate the process that before would take months... Incidentally the wizards liked screamer slices not for the taste but because the screamers had absorbed magic from Mount Anias. The screamer slices, when reduced properly, would emit a rather nice blue hue to light up apprentice dorms at night. They were also the thaumaturgical equivalent to Viagra. Haynuus never knew.
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Re: TIME'S CHAMPIONS: THE FINALE (STORY THREAD)

Post by oh_brother »

Westian said his goodbyes to the people in the room with him, wandering around to each in turn, then clasping and congratulating them. The goodbyes were perhaps slightly premature, as most of the group were moving out of the mountain in the same direction. After travelling to Viborg with the few people from the group who had not yet dissipated, ultimately Westian, Aurek and Deephold returned to the monastery.

The welcome back was a happy time for Westian, and he revelled in the new-found respect he received from the order, especially after Deephold spoke so highly of his actions in stopping Gholst and the Cult of Death. But happiness was brief as Westian found the rigid structures of the monastery even more suffocating than before. After travelling so freely and being treated as a leader he could no longer cope with a hierarchical organisation where he was still a long way from power. Bitterness set in as his superiors, whose achievements were overshadowed by his own, still assumed all authority. His requests to visit his former companions were ignored, and his suggestion to build closer links with the subterranean races was ridiculed. While he remained close to Deephold and Aurek divisions, arguments and isolation were now part of his daily routine.

It was at this point that he revisited his commitments to the Grey Lord, and his promise to help protect Viborg. Against the wishes of his superiors he announced that his duty was in the outside world, and unilaterally decided to travel through Viborg and the surrounding lands helping others. He put his healing skills to use, curing those sick and injured as he moved around the towns and farmlands. In a short time he developed a reputation as a holy man, and when visiting towns he would be welcomed and given food and shelter for as long as he wished. Happily this allowed him a higher quality of life than that normally afforded to travelling preachers, and he took it with both hands. While he cultivated an image of wise detachment, in his heart he loved the attention and respect he encountered.

He also travelled extensively in the non-human lands, spending time with Ameena and her murafu friends, encouraging more acceptance between the local farmers and the misunderstood creatures. Of course he returned to the sylvan lands, and in particular his old friend Petal, enjoying the role of unofficial diplomat between the races. He never formally left his church, and if pressed would tell people that he found he could reach Lord Larethian better without going through intermediaries. Indeed his actions ultimately increased awareness and respect for Larethian throughout the land, and increased the number of pilgrims and new entrants for the order. For their part the church supported his actions, officially at least, largely due to the popularity he had with the common people.

Over the years he returned more and more often to Mount Anaias, taking the Grey Lord’s invitation very literally. He watched Haynuus’s screamer-farming antics with interest, occasionally helping out in a well-meaning but ineffectual fashion. And despite his support for Haynuus’s project his interest never would reach the point where he would actually eat any of the screamer slices. There was another reason why he frequented Mount Anaias, and that was because he found the world-view of the Grey Lord to be far more enlightened than that of the leaders of the Church of Larethian. He dealt with the Trolins, with more or less success depending on the leader of the day. While he never managed to generate acceptance between them and the surface races he did prevent many conflicts with a discrete and well-chosen intervention at an appropriate time.

He would always look back on the time under the mountain as the defining experience of his life, and enjoyed relieving those days when possible with his fellow champions - a title that he, unlike Ameena or Helm, took to immediately. As for future adventures, well, that belongs to another story.

And that ends it! With an opening in case Westian ever appears again. Thanks beo, it was a blast!
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