ACTION, ADVENTURE, EXCITEMENT PART I - Ch. 3 Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/09/24 On Fri, 20 Sep 1996, grammarfascist wrote: > Silence notes, surprised, that the telepathy >can now extend for some distance. we've been using is so much. I'll have to take a look at our >bracelets and figure that out when we hit a hiatus.> >Silence switches to speaking out loud as well, pushing her bracelet >up over her sleeve. "Xzerrion, how long will that strength I gave you >last? I can add another jolt before we head down, but I don't think >I'll be able to spare too much, and from the looks of him Shadow has >been doing some heavy-duty materialization and is about worn down." >The K'therr nods wearily. She pauses, takes a handful of white powder >out of yet another pouch and a collapsable bowl from a pocket, and >raises her voice in a moment of song; the note is indescribable, the >sort that can't be written down. When she stops, enough water has >responded to the vibration of her voice through the air to thicken >the powdered milk into liquid. She adds a pinch of a somewhat magical >medication and holds the bowl up to her shoulder for Shadow, who >drinks thirstily. Suddenly his eyes fly open. Xzerrion ties one end to the fortress, and drops the other over the edge. >Xzerrion blinks. "Can't you give me some of that too? I could use it. >And so could you, for that matter." > >Silence shakes her head. "A human being who ingested any of that >would be extremely ill for several days. I've no idea what it would >do to me, but I'm much closer to human than I am to K'therr, and I >never use any drug of any sort if I can help it. Shadow, will you be >able to keep track of time well enough to know when to take yourself >out of the fight? That powder wears off without very much warning." >Shadow nods and finishes the milk, shaking himself over once and >smoothing down a patch of ruffled fur. "Well then," he says, >glancing down to the courtyard. "Let's go clean up." After Silence reaches the courtyard, Xzerrion disappears again, unties the rope, and carefully climbs down the side of the wall. Then he reappears to distract the opposing troops from Silence, Shadow, and Stranger. 'Hey, you morons! I'm over here!' He fires two shots at the troops, sees he has there attention, turns, and runs like hell. =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: andral1@ro.com (AJ) Date: 1996/09/24 rolandx@ix.netcom.com says... > *Calling all Callahans...caling all Callahans...we've got the bad >guys on the run, but we have to find the new avatar...we need to >close ranks...anyone having trouble call out and we will form on your >position.* > "That ought to do it." AJ looks up from his suit diagnostic. "That's odd. I seem to be receiving a message from Lady Cheron. The others are just east of here. Let's go." He then picks up another of the Manhunter suits and turns towards the stairs. -- AJ (I thought only Southern _women_ were telepathic.) =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement (fwd) From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/24 "Joseph H. Greene" wrote: >Seosaidh laughs, and coughs a bit of blood. "Damn... yon man's gonna >furious at me for certain." > >"Ah, well... it was... a damn good fight, though." > >His head falls back on the ground... and his eyes close. Roland, scanning telepathically, stiffens in shock. "Mother of Light...Seosaidh..." "Stranger, you're going to have to give us that explanation on the way!" *I need a healer to join me on Seosaidh's position! We're LOSING him!* =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: Sasquatch Date: 1996/09/24 Gareth L Owen wrote: >He hefts his shotgun. > >"Enough talk. Lets find Seosaidh, Pixel and Lady C and go and kick >some butt, cos I'm all out of gum." The Sasquatch says, "Awright! About time. One of these idiots was stupid enough to fall in front of me and I stubbed a toe. Do you know how serious that coulda been? I got really agravated let me tell you. BTW, nice shotgun. Do you like mine?" Sasquatch takes a HUGE firearm from where it rests on a boulder beside him. " A friend was kind enough to toss this through an x-window from the bar when he saw how things were going. It's a one-gauge shot gun, also called a punt gun(long story). An old friend of mine gave it to me. Jim something... it was a construction ... house, no... dam, uh-uh... Jim Bridger that's it. Great guy, haven't seen him in a while though..." The Sasquatch loads his weapon then glances around, "I'm ready!"... =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: Lady Cheron Date: 1996/09/25 AJ wrote: >AJ looks up from his suit diagnostic. "That's odd. I seem to be >receiving a message from Lady Cheron. The others are just east of >here. Let's go." He then picks up another of the Manhunter suits and >turns towards the stairs. * * * * * * Lady Cheron is kneeling over Seosaidh's prostrate form. She has bandaged and sutured, and run in a litre of blood replacement, and he is still not coming around. She's puzzled, because the wounds weren't that deep, and most of the blood covering him was the Klingon's. "Pixel," she cries if frustration. "What am I doing wrong?" Pixel shrugs. "Looks right to me." Lady Cheron pauses, and thinks for a moment. Running through her mind all of the procecures she was taught, she's hit with a sudden realization. "I'm an idiot! This is a _Scotsman_!" She rummages frantically in the bottom of the first aid kit. Producing a silver flask with a label reading "MEDICINAL PURPOSES ONLY", she uncorks it and waves it under the fallen hero's nose. "What's that, smelling salts?" asks Pixel. "Better than that," she replies, watching Seosaidh's eyelids begin to flutter. "Single malt whiskey, the 'water of life'." As Seosaidh begins to come around, she holds the flask to his lips. Seosaidh whsipers... "Aye, weel, I'll hae a wee dram, if ye insist..." The taste of the uisgebagh on his togue seems to rouse him further. A swallow, and his eyes open. "Is it heaven I be in? A fair lady givin' me whiskey, where else could I be?" He laughs weakly, then holds a hand to his head. "Whooo... somethin' hit me hard. Where's that damn Klingon? I dinna think I finished 'im... and I dinna like tae leave a job half done." "He's dead. It seems he tangled with my shotgun shortly after your blade." reassures Lady Cheron. "But he'd have died of the throat wound within the hour, anyway." "Yon man's gaein' tae be right pissed at me..." As this is going on, AJ drops in (literally, from above). AJ is carrying another set of Manhunter armor. "This one is low on ammo but the medical supplies are full. Let's get him out of his outfit and into this." So saying, AJ begins to cut the highlander's clothing away from his body. "NO!" exclaims Lady Cheron. "No need to cut the cloth. Just unpin it like this" (suiting actions to words) "and it unwraps easily." AJ notes, "So _that's_ what's beneath the kilt! Lady Cheron, help me slip Seosaidh into this. At the least, it should give him basic life support." Very modestly NOT looking at what's 'neath the kilt (she IS a lady, after all), Lady C. assists Seosaidh into the armor. She lets AJ help him with hookup and such, while she gathers up her scattered medical equipment and repacks it. "I'm not going to leave any of this behind. You never can tell what you'll need, or when." She shakes out the kilt material, notes only one or two cuts, and begins folding it compactly for carrying. Into the bundle she puts skean dubh, kilt pins, and any other little accessories that have fallen on the ground. "Lass... if ye'll hold that... and give me ma swords. I should be right enough soon. AJ, how long do I have ta stay in this bloody tin can tell it fixes me up again? I feel like a bloody Sassenach knight..." Lady Cheron stows the bundle in one of the pockets of her motorcycle jacket - the same one that produced the shotgun and the block of thermite. (Interdimensional pockets, remember?) Pixel passes Seosaidh his swords, and all stand ready for action. =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement (fwd) From: Wolfestead Date: 1996/09/25 Roland X wrote: >"Joseph H. Greene" wrote: > >>Okay, so it took me a while to end this one. But here we go. >> >>Seosaidh and Kalenn fight on, out amongst the tanks, blades flashing >>in the light. No one dares approach... to step into that whilring >>maelstrom of blades would be suicide. >> >>Suddenly, the fuel truck explodes (thanks, Stranger!), with a >>staggering concussion. The shockwave nearly topples Seosiadh, who >>manges to retain his feet... but misses a critical block. Two points >>of the bat'leth slide into his body. Seosaidh gasps in pain... and >>falls. Morgan, who has been watching the proceedings through an X-window, gasps in shock and dismay as she sees her Chief go down. >>His head falls back on the ground... and his eyes close. > > Roland, scanning telepathically, stiffens in shock. "Mother of >Light...Seosaidh..." > "Stranger, you're going to have to give us that explanation on the >way!" > *I need a healer to join me on Seosaidh's position! We're LOSING >him!* The calls for a medic snap Morgan into action. She is, among other things, the Clan's healer. She grabs her belt pouch and her sword (just in case), and dives through the X-window to where Seosaidh lies near the dead Klingon. "Ye silly, brave man," she says and she start pulling herbs and other supplies from her pouch. "Now why on earth did you go and let that petaQ ruin a perfectly good kilt?" Pulling the kilt sash aside, Morgan tears open what's left of the shirt to get a better look at the wounds. She takes a deep breath, then smiles and continues the light-hearted banter, not wanting to let her patient see how worried she really is. "Ye fought well, cousin. Kalenn son of Kodor never had a chance." She mixes some herbs into a poultice for the wicked looking wounds. "It's te bad none o' the rest of your kin were here t' see it." Although she's too much of a professional to let it show in her voice, her eyes are starting to glisten with tears as she fears the worst. She sends a silent prayer to her Gods, and to any others who might care to lend a hand. -- Morgan O'Daire /|\ Lady of House Wolfestead Cornet-at-Large serving Clann Fhaoilcheire Warrior of the Black Storm =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: glo@io.com (Gareth L Owen) Date: 1996/09/25 Sasquatch wrote: >The Sasquatch says, "Awright! About time. One of these idiots was >stupid enough to fall in front of me and I stubbed a toe. Do you know >how serious that coulda been? I got really agravated let me tell you. >BTW, nice shotgun. Do you like mine?" Sasquatch takes a HUGE firearm >from where it rests on a boulder beside him. " A friend was kind >enough to toss this through an x-window from the bar when he saw how >things were going. It's a one-gauge shot gun, also called a punt >gun(long story). An old friend of mine gave it to me. Jim >something... it was a construction ... house, no... dam, uh-uh... Jim >Bridger that's it. Great guy, haven't seen him in a while though..." > >The Sasquatch loads his weapon then glances around, "I'm ready!"... The Stranger looks at his 12 gauge and then at the Sasquatch's one gauge. "Punt gun huh? that must have given the ducks a helluva shock." Suddenly he gets a sight of Lady Cheron attending to Seosaidh. "Seosaidh!" He starts running for the fallen warrior. A ragged line of Aztec wolf warriors seems to forma ahead of him. The Stranger slings his shotgun and draws his blades. It goes hard on the Aztecs and the Stranger carries on for his fallen comrade. =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/25 rwp200@is5.nyu.edu (grammarfascist) wrote: >The door flies open. Just in time, Xzerrion catches himself and holds >his fire as the Stranger's familar form dives out and rolls behind >the turret gun. Silence ducks as Roland literally flies out, AJ >running behind him, and then starts throwing daggers into the >soldiers who have been chasing her friends. There's no contest; the >good guys have the advantage of high ground and numbers, and anyone >coming up the stairs is dead two or three different ways before he >hits the ground. Roland sighs; whole once more, he has been trying to avoid any further killing. (Of course, now that his _powers_ are whole once more as well, he certainly has less need to...) "Well, that's one way to get the group together..." he says with a smile, as he gathers his PK powers and unleashes them... >Finally, the last body rolls back down into the tower. There's a >moment of startled realization, and then everyone is gasping with >relief. The greetings and catching-up only take a few minutes, and >soon everyone is calm again. Silence checks everyone over and heals >up a few incidental cuts--"You're damn lucky you didn't break any >ribs, Stranger. Get me some of that armor when you have a chance." >--and then does a head count. "Seems to me," she says finally, "we're >only missing Pixel and Lady Cheron. Has anyone seen them? And I'd >appreciate it if you--" indicating Roland and the Stranger "--could >catch us up on the Adversary and his avatar (avatars?) and what we're >going to be facing once we clean the vermin out of this castle and >establish a base." "Okay, the story thus far:" Roland says with a lopsided grin. "The Adversary's first choice for an avatar was, well, me." Roland looks vaguely ill as he says this, but it passes. "I imagine he wanted a true immortal as his first choice-Jung's synchronicity and all-and since I had lost a piece of myself somewhere along the line, it thought to take that as an advantage." Roland frowns. "My hunger-or 'Roland-Z,' was convinced that the Adversary believed that ploy had little chance of working. (It came pretty damn close, but that's another story)...regardless." Roland straightens. "The Stranger's nemesis seems to be its second choice. Of course, that could be a ruse, but given what we've seen, I wouldn't count on it. The Adversary is old on a scale most of us can't imagine. 'Cleaning out the vermin' means we get to face the monsters. The Adversary's lackeys are fond of wearing down enemies with waves of foot soldiers, only to break them with the true force. Mortals mean nothing to the Adversary; they're as expendable to it as ants." Roland looks truly grim at the last statement. "Which is why it prefers to work through servants with a smaller focus; being treated like insects grates on most humanoids." Roland looks askance at Stranger. "Which reminds me...would a healer or medic look Stranger over? His ficton line seems to be worn. I haven't been able to get a response about his nemesis from him...and if the Adversary really wants to use him, then denying us information is the obvious ploy." =========================== Subject: RE: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: Wolfestead Date: 1996/09/26 Well, folx, I've been talking with Lady C. and Seosaidh, straightening out some problems that developed because of various servers taking their time showing our posts. We mentioned that someone maybe should coordinate this thread. So, I'm going to put my big foot in and volunteer (St. Broday, be with me ) (I'll explain that to anyone who asks). I've created a mailing list with everyone who's posted to this thread the past week or so (sorry if I forgot anyone), and I'm cc-ing all of you on this response to what I see as the latest addition to the story line. If we all cc each other when we post, we should be able to keep things together, at least for us. The lurkers may get confused but, hey, there's only so much me can do, right :-)? If anyone has a better idea, I'm open to suggestions. So, without further ado, my attempt to knit all the loose ends together.... Silence contributed the following to our saga: Acting partly on the urge to get back into the fight and partly on Seosaidh's cry for help, everyone gets down to the ground and surrounds Lady Cheron and her patient. Silence drops to her knees besides the Scotsman, going pale at the sight of the wounds from the Klingon's weapon, and immediately pulls out her painstone. Lady Cheron has the IV in now, but the big man is tossing and turning in a delirious haze of pain and the needle is in danger of coming out. Quickly, Silence applies the painstone to the most serious of his injuries, and slowly he relaxes and slips further into unconsciousness. Meanwhile, the rest of the company have formed a ring around their fallen comrade, keeping the last of the enemy from disturbing the healers. Shadow darts among the flying bullets and energy blasts with nasty swipes of his claws until the poison has worn off of them; then he settles down quietly beside the medical supplies. Barely pausing to acknowledge him, Silence tosses over a small bottle of salve. "I need about a gallon of that," she says briefly. "Solid enough to last for a week, at least." He nods, sniffs the salve (wrinkling his nose at the odor of the medicine), and concentrates. A bowl begins to form in front of him... but slowly, too slowly. Silence takes the bottle back and applies generous amounts to the two gaping wounds in Seosaidh's torso as Lady Cheron finishes bandaging the smaller but still serious cuts elsewhere. "Shadow, I can't wait any longer. Give me what you have." He nods, pours a last burst of solidifying energy into the salve, and carries the bowl over to her. She pours it over and into the gashes; even unconscious, the Scotsman gasps in pain. Ignoring her patient's reaction, Silence closes her eyes and reaches into the reserves she had hoped she wouldn't need to use. Hands open just above the wounds, she begins to sing, a single piercing note that she holds for longer than anyone would think possible. The salve absorbs the sound and carries it downward into Seosaidh's body, and slowly the torn blood vessels respond to the sound and begin to heal. Once the accelerated healing has reached the point where it will continue on its own at the tripled pace, she takes a breath and changes to a different note. Some of the salve has been absorbed, and through it one can see muscles beginning to knit together. Seosaidh groans, his eyes fluttering open--usually, healing itches. When someone heals at this speed, the itching is magnified to the point of pain and beyond--and once the major work is done, Silence draws all the pain she can into her painstone. The rough-edged chunk of rose quartz has long ago lost its hungry look and now begins to look almost bloated; a tiny fracture appears along one side. When it's full to capacity, Silence carefully returns it to its leadlined pouch and seals it inside. Hoarsely, she whispers, "He's all yours, Lady." And then, with a surprised look on her face, Silence passes out. --Silence and Shadow Morgan, who had relinquished her place at Seosaidh's side to the more experienced healers, rushes to Silence's side. "She's just about exhausted herself. My healing skills are limited to humans, though." She looks at the assembled Callahanians. "Shadow, you know her better than we. Any ideas? Lady Cheron? AJ, do you think one of those red suits might help? She saved my Chief, damn it, we've got to do _something_!" =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/26 glo@io.com (Gareth L Owen) wrote: >The Stranger slings his shotgun and draws his blades. > >It goes hard on the Aztecs and the Stranger carries on for his fallen >comrade. Roland watches, incredulous, as Stranger takes off into a pile of Aztecs. "Bloody Nass. What am I missing?" Roland paces furiously, flickers of PK lashing out at hapless soldiers trying to reclaim their leader. "If Stranger's enemy was our man, he'd be trying to tell us something...he'd be able to break through the interference with a HINT, at least. Maybe-" "Ah, Roland," a voice at once strange and familiar echoes, "Hal told me about your faith in heroes. Foolish." Roland whirls, his face as pale as ice. "Light, no..." "Wrong," a man with jet black hair, blood red skin, and eyes without souls, says as he appears in the air. "No light. It appears that this Adversary's force works as well as a Power Ring." "SINESTROOOO!" Roland roars, charging into the air, covered in energy and rage. "You did this! YOU killed Hal-desecrated his memory-" "I tried," Sinestro says, bouncing Roland almost casually. The effort becomes obvious by the sweat on his forehead-but Roland probably sees little beyond his own rage right now. "His nobility was too strong, alas. But his sacrifice freed me. And now..." A hand that kills light lashes down at Roland. Roland screams, and a blast of light and power tears it to shreds. "...hmm. Oh dear. You _do_ seem to be quite angered." "You used me, struck at my friends, and framed a childhood hero for atrocities even _you_ were never accused of." Roland's eyes blaze with St. Elmo's Fire, and he thinks he feels something on his arms. "You're going _down._" "Fool," Sinestro says, and begins to fade. "I have only the slightest dram of the power of your 'Adversary,' and I am nearly at the height of the power I once wielded. Once I merge more... fully...with it, you, your friends, and your pathetic dreams of truth and justice will die." Sinestro is almost gone now. "NO-" Roland begins to fly up. "ROLAND!" he hears. And he stops. His friends, his fellow Callahanians, are holding on to him. "It's a trap, lad! Dinnae fall for it!" "He wants you to follow! Hold on!" Roland's tears stream down...but he holds his ground. Sinestro sighs. "Later for you, then...for all of you..." ...and vanishes. "Damn..." Roland sinks to his knees for a moment. Then he feels the hands that were on his arms move to his shoulders, and body. They UNDERSTAND. Roland smiles, at last, and rises. "Thanks. Um, sorry about that." "Not a problem. But, those monsters-?" Roland concentrates. The rage he's held seems to coalese into something almost solid. The entire interior of the castle collapses. "Not a problem," Roland says quietly. "Well then. Now that we're all here, I guess we have to decide what to do next." "But he vanished-" "I know where he went," Roland said with a smile. "I know where we ARE. "Oa. the home of the Guardians of the Universe. Or at least a version of it. Sinestro won't leave until he's certain of his power." Roland smiles grimly. Let's nail the bastard." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/27 Wolfestead wrote: >Morgan, who had relinquished her place at Seosaidh's side to the more >experienced healers, rushes to Silence's side. > >"She's just about exhausted herself. My healing skills are limited to >humans, though." She looks at the assembled Callahanians. > >"Shadow, you know her better than we. Any ideas? Lady Cheron? AJ, do >you think one of those red suits might help? She saved my Chief, damn >it, we've got to do _something_!" Roland looks down. He's tired to his bones. /All I want is to sleep for a week. Sinestro...Hal...my friends... the Manhunters...my lady love...damn./ "Get back," Roland says, throwing up a wide forcefield around the group for protection. Then he opens his hand, and light and darkness pour out together. Into Silence. "She will know...what she needs." /I hope./ The energy flows... slows to a trickle...stops. All present and accounted for are breathing steadily. Roland, paler than ever, sits down with a hard 'thump.' "There are times I am truly glad I'm immortal. Okay, folks. Let's go get that bas-" Roland tries to stand. It's almost a humorous attempt. "Um...maybe we should rest up for a bit before continuing the chase. Sinestro's going to need more time that we are." /I hope./ =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: dion.marshall@pobox.com (Dion P. Marshall) Date: 1996/09/27 Roland X (rolandx@ix.netcom.com) wrote: : "Not a problem," Roland says quietly. "Well then. Now that we're :all here, I guess we have to decide what to do next." : "But he vanished-" : "I know where he went," Roland said with a smile. "I know where we :ARE. : "Oa. the home of the Guardians of the Universe. Or at least a :version of it. Sinestro won't leave until he's certain of his power." :Roland smiles grimly. Let's nail the bastard." A casually dressed man wearing a beat up leather bush hat and with a lion headed meerschaum pipe in his mouth strolls up with a boston terrier on a leash. "Is this a...", the terrier is is straining at the leash in the direction of a small group of assorted monsters about 500 yards away and wimpering. "Excuse me," he reaches down and unhooks the leash, "go play, Nellie!" The terrier bound off towards the monsters. As she runs, you notice that perspective is having no effect on her, in other words, the closer she gets to the monsters, the bigger she seems in relation. The startled monsters scatter, but the terrier catches a few and begins flipping them in the air. "As I was saying, is this a private party or can anybody join?" The monsters run off, the terrier returns with one in her mouth. When she gets back, she is normal size and the monster is about the size of a pet toy and looks a little ragged. Dion -- "There's nothing there in the dark that isn't there in the light." Why is that supposed to be a comforting thought? =========================== Subject: RE: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: andral1@ro.com (AJ) Date: 1996/09/27 lj153734@eee.org says... >Morgan, who had relinquished her place at Seosaidh's side to the more >experienced healers, rushes to Silence's side. > >"She's just about exhausted herself. My healing skills are limited to >humans, though." She looks at the assembled Callahanians. > >"Shadow, you know her better than we. Any ideas? Lady Cheron? AJ, do >you think one of those red suits might help? She saved my Chief, damn >it, we've got to do _something_!" "With Seosaidh stable, we can take him out of the armor. It looks like Silence needs it more just now. Shadow, do you need anything she's carrying? Silence looks to be out of things for a while." AJ begins to remove the red armor that the highland chief is wearing. Asking Lady Cheron for a blanket, (ain't them pockets wonderful?) he begins to wrap Seosaidh in it. "Shadow, how far off the human norm is Silence biologically? The goon wearing this suit _seemed_ to be homo sapiens and mine hasn't hurt me yet. I don't know how it'll adapt to someone with a different chemistry." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/28 glo@io.com (Gareth L Owen) wrote: >"I am cursed with immortality. I dont age, but I can be killed, >however, I get better. Normally I 'wake up' fully grown in another >parallel, memories and skills intact. Oh and my swords are always >with me, but usually I lose my other equipment." "Grife," Roland mutters. "Lousy way to live forever..." >"My crime was to guess the truth. I come from a part of the >multiverse where the Lords of Chaos and the Lords of Law are locked >in an unending struggle for supremacy. I saws through the lies and >saw the struggle. Whats more I saw it for what it was, pointless >conflict between equally tyrranic forces. Prince Arioch of Chaos >didn't like this, so he cursed me. But there are compensations." Roland nods... >"He decided to use me, being thrifty and not wanting to waste a >resource. He granted me with a body that developed to optimum human >potential and the ability to learn, really, really fast. For a while >he manipulated me and I fought for him. Trouble seems to find me. >Eventually I saw through that as well. I slew one of his avatars. He >tried to kill me then. However, MolloM Lord of Law decided he too >needed a warrior. He placed exactly the same curse on me. Now neither >of them can remove the curse, and I now they'll never co-operate." "Ugh. The immortals of my ficton often search for ways to remove the Halo that empowers us; I'm told some have succeeded. If you ever tire of your Eternal war, look them up." >"Why the Adversary has chosen him, I dont know. But I guess if you >want a human vessel, he's as good as any." Roland swallows hard. "Of course...it would _never_ choose a mortal...and an immortal whose Halo, or whatever, could not be stolen, would be the ultimate avatar...we can't let the Adversary take this guy." Roland frowns. "Eventually, the Adversary begins to take over the host's mind, so maybe self-interest will work..." >"Beware, though. He's fast, skillful, tough and ruthless. If you get >the chance, kill him. I have a feeling its him or us." Roland sighs. "Not that it'll make any difference to an immortal, but I've been trying to avoid outright killing. Bludgeoning, slicing, and bone-breaking, sure, but not killing..." 8^) >"My swords, by the way, are special. They took me a year and a day to >make, each. they contain a small part of me. The longsword is my >noble side, the ninja-to my cynical side. They tend to come back to >me, if I ever lose them. That has its uses." Roland looks at the ninja-to (very much like his own) and smiles. "Nice blade." >He hefts his shotgun. > >"Enough talk. Lets find Seosaidh, Pixel and Lady C and go and kick >some butt, cos I'm all out of gum." "Let's rock. I still owe Sinestro a few licks for that final shot he took at me..." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/28 andral1@ro.com (AJ) wrote: >"With Seosaidh stable, we can take him out of the armor. It looks >like Silence needs it more just now. Shadow, do you need anything >she's carrying? Silence looks to be out of things for a while." AJ >begins to remove the red armor that the highland chief is wearing. >Asking Lady Cheron for a blanket, (ain't them pockets wonderful?) he >begins to wrap Seosaidh in it. "Shadow, how far off the human norm >is Silence biologically? The goon wearing this suit _seemed_ to be >homo sapiens and mine hasn't hurt me yet. I don't know how it'll >adapt to someone with a different chemistry." OOC: My news program can't cc. Anyone who can, please forward this post to the appropriate parties. Roland looks up from where the Cybermen are helping him stand. "Many thanks, KnightShift. AJ, the intended wearers of that armor are _androids._ The functions of the suits are designed to work for anything even _remotely_ humanoid. I am unaware of non-humanoid Manhunter armor, but that hardly rules it out. The Manhunters are like Men in Black, or cockroaches-they're everywhere and damn near impossible to eliminate completely. They can adapt to almost anything." Roland smiles faintly. "Hmm..." A hand lashes out, and the fallen android members of the Manhunters glow oddly. Various forms of energy shoot out of them, and into Roland's hand. "ohh..." Roland stands on his own. "Much better. What a difference a day makes. Heh." "Okay, people, strategy time. Sinestro is a greedy, power-hungry SOB, but he's not stupid, and I want him in a science-cell as soon as possible. Any ideas?" Roland X, wondering why Oa's sand is red instead of yellow, but not why there's a medieval castle on it... =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/30 andral1@ro.com (AJ) wrote: >AJ looks up from his suit diagnostic. "That's odd. I seem to be >receiving a message from Lady Cheron. The others are just east of >here. Let's go." He then picks up another of the Manhunter suits and >turns towards the stairs. Roland nods and begins to fly down. *All Callahanians, please report to Lady Cheron's location. We'll meet at the ship.* "Oh, and AJ, FWIW, the armor seems to enhance strength and sped, as well as providing a martial tactics database to its user. It also provides an impressive arsenal, and I'm quite sure it's EMP shielded. Other than that, I'm not sure." Roland suddenly smiles, realizing he's about to get to see Oa from orbit... =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/09/30 [At last, a new post to this thread! I was wondering if everyone had gone ABEND.... [Quick note: this post contains a great deal of biographical information, which people may or may not be interested in. It's also fairly long, since I felt like being detailed. If you'd rather catch up on this kind of fluff at some other point, skip down to the keywords 'glass of water.'] Once everyone has gotten safely aboard the Exeter, the pressing matter is one of sustenance and rest. Soon everyone is well-fed, with many compliments passed on to Captain Gray's excellent cook, and all retire to surprisingly comfortable quarters. The next afternoon--the ship's clock has been set to the time zone of the citadel, where some of the KnightShift's converted mechanical men stand watch--everyone gathers in a large conference room. Shadow looks around the table from his accustomed perch on Silence's shoulder, noting familiar faces as well as relative newcomers. Everyone looks _much_ better after a night's rest, and the mood is generally a cheerful one. "If you'll excuse me," he says politely, and people turn to look at him as the room fall silent. Not everyone is used to the talking winged cat, but he ignores the occasional raised eyebrow and continues. "Silence and I talked a bit last night before we went to bed, and we decided that we ought to let you know who we are. Since she's much more eloquent than I am, I'll let her tell the story--provided, of course, that there's time to do so." He glances at Roland X. "You know the Adversary and his avatar best," he says. "Do we need to focus on battle plans and see if we have any time left over?" Roland considers and finally shakes his head. "Go ahead," he says. "We've got a few days, I think." 'I hope' is written on his face, but he says nothing more. "Well then," Shadow says, glancing at the set face of his companion, "I'll turn the floor over to Silence." The diminutive elf stirs slightly, and a wry smile crosses her face. "It's been a long, long time since I've told a story in the proper style," she says, "but I think the occasion deserves it." She sits up very straight, her crosslegged stance looking odd against her swivel chair, and her customary plain black clothes take on a suddenly formal appearance. Then she closes her eyes for a moment, opens them again, looks for a moment at each of her companions, and begins. "I have two names. In some ways I am two people, though over the years one of the two has become the one I refer to as myself. My name, then, is Cala'abria Swordsmith of the Fifth Generation of my house, daughter of Chiela the Caller daughter of Adeya Wisewoman and of Rema'an son of Sara'athi and Liya of the Rainbow, direct descendant from the eight gods and the Twins above them, born to the plane of Tameria. "This body belongs to a woman who once called herself Calabria Greenleaf of the Eighth Generation of her house, daughter of Alanna Silverhand daughter of Calerra Ironeyes and of Dacorran son of Corran, descendant of Sareyith the Leader (may his soul live on forever), wife of Lucas Daggerfist and mother to Arik and Kira, born to the Realm of the Elders." The word 'wife' startles a couple of people, and the word 'mother' sends a surprised murmur around the table. "I have the memories of both of these people; both are part of me. I speak now as Cala'abria Swordsmith, for her memories are the strongest for me and it is her name which comes to mind when I think of myself. "I was the third child in a family which only had twins. This may seem unremarkable, but perhaps you do not understand the weight of the word 'only'. The plane of Tameria was created by Kiya and Kail of the Rainbow, and they decreed that their descendants would bear only twins. And so it was, for many generations. Liya of the Rainbow, my father's mother, was (and perhaps still is) Kail's great-great-great-granddaughter; she was a twin, and her children were twins, and thus her grandchildren were twins: my older siblings, Da'arin and Ka'aiya. (The double A is a legacy from my father's father's family, a tradition started by a genealogist who wished his children to have an easy way of tracing their ancestry.) Their births were unremarkable, and they obediently followed the paths set for them before they were born. Ka'aiya, when she was old enough, began her training to become the next Wisewoman of Cantril, and Da'arin followed his natural abilities and trained to be a mage. All was simple and peaceful. "Then my mother got pregnant again. It was certainly no choice of hers; she was a wild woman, more at home with animals than with elves, and never stopped moving. When she discovered her condition, my father's family was shocked, and she was quite dismayed. Her mother, however, told her to curb her immediate impulse and carry me to term; and one does not disobey the medical and foreseeing advice of one's mother when she has been the sixth Wisewoman of Cantril for slightly more than four hundred years. "So I was born in the year 1159 by our reckoning, a scant twenty-seven years younger than my siblings. I knew from the first that I made people nervous; I shouldn't have existed. In fact, my existence went against the direct will of the gods--and ours was a young world, our gods still very present and their words taken very much to heart. The daughter of the Wisewoman became the next Wisewoman... but Ka'aiya was the one destined for that position, and she began her training early, even before I was born. My mother, you see, was in no hurry to settle down to the placid life of a healer and augurer, and as Ka'aiya advanced in her studies, it became clear that the title would likely skip a generation and go to her as soon as she reached her majority at the age of 150. She was always very superior towards me; we disliked each other a great deal, and happily avoided each other sa much as possible. My mother was rarely there, and my father was, I think, rather frightened by me, so I was raised by my brother." A sad smile crosses Silence's face. "Da'arin... how well I remember him. I loved him with all my heart. When I was little, I was sure that someday he would leave and take me with him; he was always a wanderer. He did leave, just after my hundredth birthday, and I understood then why I had to stay behind. His magical talents weren't much, but he could get by, and he wanted to see the world. I remember saying goodbye to him...." Her voice cracks slightly. "And then we got word, no more than two or three weeks later, that somehow he'd been provoked into a magical duel and gotten his damn fool self killed." She swallows hard and tersely wipes her eyes. "I had no reason to live after that; I disassociated myself from my family, going off to live on my own. I retreated to Elvenhame, in the middle of the Mairsen Woods, where no one would bother me and I would bother no one. I had begun training as a fighter some time before, and now I threw myself into it in earnest. "And then one morning, four years and three months past my hundredth birthday, I woke up and was in someone else's body, with someone else's memories crowding into my mind. The air tasted different, and I knew that I was no longer in Tameria. The best explanation that I can come up with is that I was simply born in the wrong plane, and when the planes forced themseves back into their correct course, I was snapped back to the one that should have been my birthplace. "That was a very strange day. I spent most of it sifting through my new memories, learning who I was and what I could do. I was as you see me now, though my hair was pure black and I was not yet affluent enough to wear satin; black cotton served as well. I was apprenticed to one of the master thieves of the town, a place called Windsend." She smiles. "I had a number of names there; some called me Larionar, thinking I was a boy, and a friend and I often pretended to be twins named L'sana and L'sara. Only my master knew my real name, and only he used it. There were friends here and there in the guild: Luna and Zair, short for Melenna and Zairali, and of course L'sara. I had a passing acquaintance with a cleric named Enunciata, who preferred to be called Ginger and told wonderful stories when she had had too much wine. And there was a journeyman who was about to become the guild's youngest master thief. His name was Lucas, and I was in love with him. "Learning this, having this feeling become my feeling, was not unlike falling in love at first sight. As Cala'abria examined Calabria's memories, she realized that this young man was in some ways exactly like Da'arin... and it was easy to fall in love with him. It was equally easy to have my apprenticeship transferred to him after he reached master level, and soon--too soon, I think--we were married. "I'll never know whether it was coincidence that Calabria's body followed Cala'abria's heritage and gave birth to twins. All I know is that I will never be pregnant again. What a dreadful experience! But I loved Arik and Kira with all my heart--Arik III, actually, and Kira because Lucas always did love palindromes--and my life was a happy one for many years. Lucas had a number of friends who occasionally came through Windsend, most of whom liked me and most of whom I liked, and soon I had passed my own tests and become a master thief in my own right. The fighting skills I had gained in Tameria served me well too, and I made sure to practice them whenever I could, eventually going so far as to take an unheard-of second apprenticeship in the fighters' guild. It was a good life, and Lucas and I had no problems supporting ourselves in a comfortable place on the outskirts of town. "One evening, all of his friends appeared at the door at once. They locked themselves and Lucas into his study, and stayed in there for nearly two days. Arik and Kira were nearly grown at this point, and looking nothing like twins; Arik, tall and thin, was moving very quickly through the ranks of the fighters' guild, while Kira, short and not underweight, was making steady progress in her clerical training (which meant that I got to see a great deal of Ginger, the only childhood friend I had really stayed in touch with). They were both better cooks than I, but I did my best to help them feed this dozen of inexplicably tense men. "When they came out, Lucas explained everything to me. Within the week, I was gone. Essentially, the twelve of them were planning to open a gate into another plane and go adventuring in it. It was such an insane proposition, and I was still so wary of magic--because of Da'arin, of course--that I simply packed up one night, kissed my children goodbye, and left. If anything could keep him there, it would be the children, and without him the plans would fall apart. Lucas had awoken my own latent magic, but I refused to admit it until much later; perhaps if I had trained it then, I could have helped them at least open the gate safely. As it was, I had no choice but to leave. "I wandered for a time under my brother's name, speaking to few people and living off of what I could steal from the unwary. One day, I came across a man lying half-dead next to the road, and a strange feeling came over me. It wasn't an unfamiliar one, though I had tried to ignore it whenever it occurred because it made my vision blur and my fingertips tingle, which rather impaired my pickpocketing. The blurring was worse than ever, this time, and as I stumbled towards him, my mind grew foggier as well. I have a vague memory of touching him and of letting out a sound that was half song and half wordless cry. Then I fell unconscious. "When I awoke, I was in a small round room in what was obviously a tower. A man was sitting next to the bed, looking at me calmly. He was my teacher for the next forty years. In that tower, I found my voice and lost it again and then found it for real; I learned the healing secrets of plants and animals; and I found out a few things about myself that don't really bear repeating. It was a fascinating forty years, but not really a time to tell stories about, and I've gone on too long as it is. "One morning I woke up to what sounded like a kitten meowing. I ran outside, and there was this bedraggled little K'therr, not more than two weeks old, with a broken wing and no mother in sight. I brought him inside and nursed him back to health, and in a fit of nostalgia named him Lucas. He had Lucas's coloring, too--brown and black, just like Lucas's skin and hair, in gorgeous tiger stripes." She smiles affectionately at Shadow. "Do you remember that, my friend?" "I do indeed," he says. "And you taught me to talk--" "And you tried to teach me to purr!" Silence laughs. "We were soon inseperable, and before long the wing had healed and we would go out together, running and flying as fast as we could. He would help me carry back the herbs I gathered, and in return I would give him some catnip. It was lovely, and it lasted all of two weeks. "Lucas--or Shadow, as you know him--was the first to find out about the war. It wasn't really a war, I suppose; a small skirmish between neighboring towns, nothing unusual. But people were getting hurt and killed, and before long I couldn't fight the pull towards the battlefield. Neither could my teacher, no matter how much he wanted to stay in his tower. We all went together, and I healed more people than I could possibly remember. That was the first time anyone ever died in my arms; I felt his heart stop even as I tried desperately to stem the bleeding, and I watched the wound close up long after I had spoken the words to send his soul on its way." Her voice is not quite steady. "My teacher had gone to negotiate with the leaders of the armies, having healed and helped me heal the most badly hurt, and I was left to heal the rest. When I had done the last one, I collapsed. "When I woke up a day later, my teacher very gently told me that I had passed a greater test than he had ever hoped to face me with and that it was time for me to go on. I packed, and Lucas settled himself into my hood, and we left. Just before I walked out the door of the tower for the last time, my teacher gave me the gift of my silencing abilities; in gratitude, I took Silence as my name and have used it ever since. "There's little to tell past that. Lucas did a favor for a mage who gave him his illusory powers in return, and for a long while we made much of our money as entertainers. There were many adventures, but none worth the time they would take to tell. And one evening, we wandered into a small bar which seemed... more _real_ than most of the taverns we'd encountered--a bar called Callahan's Place. All of you, of course, know the rest." Silence stretches and takes a sip from her glass of water. "So now you know. I'm a rusty fighter and rustier thief who relies on her few magical powers to get her out of trouble; a woman who abandoned her husband and children because of her irrational fears of magic; a healer who fought her healing instincts for three hundred years before reluctantly admitting their existence, and who went through twenty years of training before bringing herself to think of them as a gift rather than a liability. Now, perhaps, you understand a little of the bloodthirstiness that's underneath everything I do; I've become very cold over the centuries. "I made an implied promise when I joined this group and this fight, and I will say it out loud now and as myself: I will fight to the death against this Adversary. I will do everything within my capabilities to protect the lives of my companions, and ask nothing in return but a share in the rations--and, if there are any, the profits. I will stay with you until the end of either our enemy or myself, and pledge my faith to this group and this cause upon my sword and my soul. "Having said that, perhaps we should discuss plans for facing the latest avatar. I know I've been talking for far too long, and I apologize, but I didn't think it was right for me to be here under a psedonym any longer. Thank you all for being so kind as to not interrupt; this was a much-needed catharsis. "So: any suggestions for keeping the Adversary from forming any more avatars? No point in cutting off the Hydra's head if two more grow back in its place." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: glo@io.com (Gareth Owen) Date: 1996/09/30 From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) > Roland nods and begins to fly down. *All Callahanians, please >report to Lady Cheron's location. We'll meet at the ship.* The Stranger covers the approach of any remaining Callahanians, once he's established that Seosaidh is stable. There are few enemies left in the open, however. Which is just as well, as he's starting to run out of ammo. > "Oh, and AJ, FWIW, the armor seems to enhance strength and sped, >as well as providing a martial tactics database to its user. It also >provides an impressive arsenal, and I'm quite sure it's EMP shielded. >Other than that, I'm not sure." > Roland suddenly smiles, realizing he's about to get to see Oa >from orbit... The Callahanians are dropping back to the ship, taking their wounded with them. The Stranger stands and looks towards the Citadel. He looks towards the ship. He walks over to a wounded stormtrooper and grabs him by the collar. "Tell the Adversary that I'm not running. Tell him I'm not giving up. Tell him I'm going with the first friends I've found in a five centuries. Tell him I'll be back. Tell him we'll be back!" He turns and heads for the ship, reloading as he goes. >Then Silence posted: >The next afternoon--the ship's clock has been set to the time zone of >the citadel, where some of the KnightShift's converted mechanical men >stand watch--everyone gathers in a large conference room. Shadow >looks around the table from his accustomed perch on Silence's >shoulder, noting familiar faces as well as relative newcomers. >Everyone looks _much_ better after a night's rest, and the mood is >generally a cheerful one. "Roland! You look, well, you look wholer than when we started on this affair. Suits you." >"If you'll excuse me," he says politely, and people turn to look at >him as the room fall silent. Not everyone is used to the talking >winged cat, but he ignores the occasional raised eyebrow and >continues. The Stranger pays strict attention. >"This body belongs to a woman who once called herself Calabria >Greenleaf of the Eighth Generation of her house, daughter of Alanna >Silverhand daughter of Calerra Ironeyes and of Dacorran son of >Corran, descendant of Sareyith the Leader (may his soul live on >forever), wife of Lucas Daggerfist and mother to Arik and Kira, born >to the Realm of the Elders." The word 'wife' startles a couple of >people, and the word 'mother' sends a surprised murmur around the >table. "I have the memories of both of these people; both are part >of me. I speak now as Cala'abria Swordsmith, for her memories are >the strongest for me and it is her name which comes to mind when I >think of myself. The Stranger looks like he understands, he knows how one soul can see many lives. The Stranger, a doctor and warrior, but no healer, has seen more than his fair share of death, understands. >Silence stretches and takes a sip from her glass of water. "So now >you know. I'm a rusty fighter and rustier thief who relies on her >few magical powers to get her out of trouble; a woman who abandoned >her husband and children because of her irrational fears of magic; a >healer who fought her healing instincts for three hundred years >before reluctantly admitting their existence, and who went through >twenty years of training before bringing herself to think of them as >a gift rather than a liability. Now, perhaps, you understand a little >of the bloodthirstiness that's underneath everything I do; I've >become very cold over the centuries. "The centuries will do that to you. Especially with no one to share them with." >"I made an implied promise when I joined this group and this fight, >and I will say it out loud now and as myself: I will fight to the >death against this Adversary. I will do everything within my >capabilities to protect the lives of my companions, and ask nothing >in return but a share in the rations--and, if there are any, the >profits. I will stay with you until the end of either our enemy or >myself, and pledge my faith to this group and this cause upon my >sword and my soul. "Likewise. We have passion, loyalty and honour, and that is why we'll win." >"Having said that, perhaps we should discuss plans for facing the >latest avatar. I know I've been talking for far too long, and I >apologize, but I didn't think it was right for me to be here under a >psedonym any longer. Thank you all for being so kind as to not >interrupt; this was a much-needed catharsis. >"So: any suggestions for keeping the Adversary from forming any more >avatars? No point in cutting off the Hydra's head if two more grow >back in its place." "Firstly, can we open a portal to Callahans? I could do with some kit from my vehicle, I left in rather a hurry. I might be able to get another warrior, if I can wake her up." "Otherwise, what weapons are available, I've got my swords, one dagger, some grenades and mines, my backup gun and my lawgivers, but they are really low on ammunition, no high explosive or grenade rounds left, three rounds of armour piercing, a couple of mags each of general purpose and incendiary and loads of rubber snecking ricochet. Oh and the Beretta and Striker I picked up, but they each have less than a whole magazine." "I'm not sure what is happening down there. Perhaps Roland can elaborate, as I understand it the Adversary is trying to create an avatar for himself. Roland Z was his first choice, but Roland X thwarted him there. My nemesis was his second choice. He was caught in the blast from the petrol tanks I know, but I didn't see the body, so he's still alive, I'm sure. Although he must be hurt." "How long will it take to create this avatar Roland? Any ideas? Can Gruber stop him if we can convince him to join us?" "Also, where does Sinestro fit in?" The Strangers eyes suddenly sparkle with realisation. He grins evily. "This is OA. Does that mean we could find some Rings down there somewhere?" =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/10/02 glo@io.com wrote: >The Stranger stands and looks towards the Citadel. > >He looks towards the ship. > >He walks over to a wounded stormtrooper and grabs him by the collar. > >"Tell the Adversary that I'm not running. Tell him I'm not giving up. >Tell him I'm going with the first friends I've found in a five >centuries. Tell him I'll be back. Tell him we'll be back!" "Maybe the first," Roland notes, "but not the last." >"Roland! You look, well, you look wholer than when we started on >this affair. Suits you." Roland smiles and nods. "Thanks, Stranger. I _feel_ more whole. More bad news for the bad guys, IMO." His smile tightens. "Power comes more easily when you _want_ it." The smile fades. "The trick is using it for the right things, of course..." >>Then Silence posted: >>"Silence and I talked a bit last night before we went to bed, and we >>decided that we ought to let you know who we are. Since she's much >>more eloquent than I am, I'll let her tell the story --provided, of >>course, that there's time to do so." He glances at Roland X. "You >>know the Adversary and his avatar best," he says. "Do we need to >>focus on battle plans and see if we have any time left over?" >> >>Roland considers and finally shakes his head. "Go ahead," he says. >>"We've got a few days, I think." 'I hope' is written on his face, >>but he says nothing more. /Oh Light, they're expecting ME to predict the Adversary's next move. Better not mess this one up, Roland me boyo.../ >>"Well then," Shadow says, glancing at the set face of his companion, >>"I'll turn the floor over to Silence." >> >>The diminutive elf stirs slightly, and a wry smile crosses her face. >>"It's been a long, long time since I've told a story in the proper >>style," she says, "but I think the occasion deserves it." She sits >>up very straight, her crosslegged stance looking odd against her >>swivel chair, and her customary plain black clothes take on a >>suddenly formal appearance. Then she closes her eyes for a moment, >>opens them again, looks for a moment at each of her companions, and >>begins. Roland sits upright; he _loves_ a good story. >>The word 'wife' startles a couple of people, and the word 'mother' >>sends a surprised murmur around the table. "I have the memories of >>both of these people; both are part of me. I speak now as >>Cala'abria Swordsmith, for her memories are the strongest for me and >>it is her name which comes to mind when I think of myself. Roland's jaw falls slack; now THAT is how to start a story. >>Silence stretches and takes a sip from her glass of water. "So now >>you know. I'm a rusty fighter and rustier thief who relies on her >>few magical powers to get her out of trouble; a woman who abandoned >>her husband and children because of her irrational fears of magic; a >>healer who fought her healing instincts for three hundred years >>before reluctantly admitting their existence, and who went through >>twenty years of training before bringing herself to think of them as >>a gift rather than a liability. Now, perhaps, you understand a >>little of the bloodthirstiness that's underneath everything I do; >>I've become very cold over the centuries. > >"The centuries will do that to you. Especially with no one to share >them with." Roland, a very young immortal, pays close attention here... >>"I made an implied promise when I joined this group and this fight, >>and I will say it out loud now and as myself: I will fight to the >>death against this Adversary. I will do everything within my >>capabilities to protect the lives of my companions, and ask nothing >>in return but a share in the rations--and, if there are any, the >>profits. I will stay with you until the end of either our enemy or >>myself, and pledge my faith to this group and this cause upon my >>sword and my soul. > >"Likewise. We have passion, loyalty and honour, and that is why we'll >win." Roland nods again. "I wouldn't count on much in the way of spoils, not after what Sinestro did to Oa, but that's not why we're here. The loyalty and honor, though, those are rewards enough." >>"Having said that, perhaps we should discuss plans for facing the >>latest avatar. I know I've been talking for far too long, and I >>apologize, but I didn't think it was right for me to be here under >>a psedonym any longer. Thank you all for being so kind as to not >>interrupt; this was a much-needed catharsis. Roland sighs happily; after his experience on Oa, he understands the need all too well... >>"So: any suggestions for keeping the Adversary from forming any more >>avatars? No point in cutting off the Hydra's head if two more grow >>back in its place." Roland shakes his head. "No fear on that. (Thank the Light.) The Adversary can't just say, 'hey you, want to be my avatar, wink wink?' >ahem< there has to be...well, an emptiness within...and he never chooses mortals. I feared that Sinestro had become immortal, and thus an option, but that seems to no longer be the case." >"Firstly, can we open a portal to Callahans? I could do with some kit >from my vehicle, I left in rather a hurry. I might be able to get >another warrior, if I can wake her up." >"I'm not sure what is happening down there. Perhaps Roland can >elaborate, as I understand it the Adversary is trying to create an >avatar for himself. Roland Z was his first choice, but Roland X >thwarted him there. My nemesis was his second choice. He was caught >in the blast from the petrol tanks I know, but I didn't see the body, >so he's still alive, I'm sure. Although he must be hurt." Roland frowns. "Remember that chainsaw I caught with my stomach? Even the pseudo-Halo that your 'friend' Gruber has will give him regenerative capabilities. Fortunately, my guess is that enough damage will cause his cursed spirit to jump fictons before the Halo can restore the body." >"How long will it take to create this avatar Roland? Any ideas? Can >Gruber stop him if we can convince him to join us?" "FWIW, the legends I've heard hint that the transformation, though it begins immediately, requires several weeks before the true power of the Adversary begins to leak through." >"Also, where does Sinestro fit in?" "Um, that 'power' thing would be the place, IMO. That dark energy may well be something other than the Adversary." >The Strangers eyes suddenly sparkle with realisation. He grins evily. > >"This is OA. Does that mean we could find some Rings down there >somewhere?" Roland almost sobs. "Sinestro took the form of Earth's GL and destroyed the Corps, the bastich. The only remaining ring is being used." Then he grows thoughtful. "Maybe...maybe there's something left of the Great Battery...that might be why they're here. If the Adversary could corrupt that-" Roland's spine feels frozen over. "...mother of Light...if he could corrupt that... "Hmmph." Roland stands, and stretches. "No point in worrying what they _might_ be able to do. If we can destroy Gruber, or convince him to relinquish the power, then it won't matter. I suggest we rearm, re-up, and respond to the Adversary's feint in kind. It thought bringing me in would ensure its victory. I'm not too pleased with that assessment. "Let's go nail the son of a slug." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: dion.marshall@pobox.com (Dion P. Marshall) Date: 1996/10/02 Following up to Roland X because the Stranger's post has not arrived: Roland X (rolandx@ix.netcom.com) wrote: > Roland shakes his head. "No fear on that. (Thank the Light.) The >Adversary can't just say, 'hey you, want to be my avatar, wink wink?' >>ahem< there has to be...well, an emptiness within...and he never >chooses mortals. I feared that Sinestro had become immortal, and thus >an option, but that seems to no longer be the case." Dion lifts his head and grins, "I have a plan and 'it's so cunning you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel,' but it may get me killed. If I can get the cooperation of some Others, and if I'm right about the Adversary, it will work. If he is in close enough proximity to a suitable avatar, can he avoid bonding? Obviously, he is restricted to some degree to the abilities of the avatar, or he could use any old joe. If he has to bond, I can arrange a long frustrating vacation for him." >>"Otherwise, what weapons are available, I've got my swords, one >>dagger, some grenades and mines, my backup gun and my lawgivers, but >>they are really low on ammunition, no high explosive or grenade >>rounds left, three rounds of armour piercing, a couple of mags each >>of general purpose and incendiary and loads of rubber snecking >>ricochet. Oh and the Beretta and Striker I picked up, but they each >>have less than a whole magazine." "I can get you to the Place, with some minor restrictions. Leave your cold iron here." Spreading his left hand, Dion causes the shadowy form of a nematon to appear. Stepping through, the companions find themselves on a path through a sparse woodland. Although the sky is clear, the sunlight is wan and hesitant. Looking back through the now solid nematon, the Stranger sees the others watching after for a moment and then the view fades. Nellie barks and whines. Turning the Stranger sees Dion confronted by a tall, elegant, haughty woman. Beautiful and flawless as she is, there is no attraction, she might as well be a statue. "Milady," says Dion worriedly, "is it your intent to bar our passage?" "No," she says, although it is obvious that she would wish to, "Fionbharr has given you full freedom of the path, even to allowing you to carry the vile metal, for the time being. I am here to oversee the shortening of the path and the building of walls so that what you pass through here may not wander off." "He'll allow cold iron?", an astonished Dion exclaims, "what can be the price I'll pay for that boon?" "No price," she answers, "Fionbharr fears that what you fight will not be content with mortal lands, and so the fighting will be price enow." The lady fades. Continuing on, the companions shortly reach another nematon. Passing through, they arrive in the Place. "If cold iron will be allowed," Dion remarks, "I have some things to get, myself. I'll return here within an hour and we can go back the way we came." . True to his word, Dion returns before the clock above the bar chimes, in one hand a short, double-bitted war axe, in the other a shopping bag labeled "Stewarts'". =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/10/02 On 2 Oct 1996, Roland X wrote: > Roland's jaw falls slack; now THAT is how to start a story. Silence blushes and grins. "It _is_ fun to be able to rattle those names off like that," she admits. "Amazing that I haven't forgotten them, even after all these years; family is--even now--very important to me. Thanks for the compliment. It's been a _long_ time." >>>everything I do; I've become very cold over the centuries. >> >>"The centuries will do that to you. Especially with no one to share >>them with." > > Roland, a very young immortal, pays close attention here... "Not much new there, really." She shrugs. "I'm not immortal by any stretch of the imagination, by the way. Simply possessed of a lifespan perhaps ten times that of the average human being. I learned once how old I would be when I died (of natural causes, that is) and promptly forgot it. It's much more a function of being alone than being old or long-lived, and as long as you surround yourself with companions like these, you'll never feel frost on your soul." Her smile is sad. "Until, of course, you lose them." > Roland nods again. "I wouldn't count on much in the way of spoils, >not after what Sinestro did to Oa, but that's not why we're here. The >loyalty and honor, though, those are rewards enough." "As long as Mike keeps serving them up at a dollar each, that is!" > Roland shakes his head. "No fear on that. (Thank the Light.) The >Adversary can't just say, 'hey you, want to be my avatar, wink wink?' >>ahem< there has to be...well, an emptiness within...and he never >chooses mortals. I feared that Sinestro had become immortal, and thus >an option, but that seems to no longer be the case." "Any idea who is the current avatar, then? Or rather, who will be?" > Then he grows thoughtful. "Maybe...maybe there's something left of >the Great Battery...that might be why they're here. If the Adversary >could corrupt that-" Roland's spine feels frozen over. "...mother of >Light...if he could corrupt that... "Okay, this I _really_ could use an explanation of, please!" > "Let's go nail the son of a slug." Silence nods once, firmly, in silent and absolute agreement. And then Shadow asks the question that no one wants to hear: "How?" =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/10/03 grammarfascist wrote: >On 2 Oct 1996, Roland X wrote: >"Not much new there, really." She shrugs. "I'm not immortal by any >stretch of the imagination, by the way. Simply possessed of a >lifespan perhaps ten times that of the average human being. I learned >once how old I would be when I died (of natural causes, that is) and >promptly forgot it. It's much more a function of being alone than >being old or long-lived, and as long as you surround yourself with >companions like these, you'll never feel frost on your soul." Her >smile is sad. "Until, of course, you lose them." Roland opens an X-Window quickly. "To the ones who burn out too young." A glass appears in his hand, and he flings it into the fireplace with surprising vehemence. "Sorry. Please continue." >> Roland shakes his head. "No fear on that. (Thank the Light.) The >>Adversary can't just say, 'hey you, want to be my avatar, wink >>wink?' >ahem< there has to be...well, an emptiness within...and he >>never chooses mortals. I feared that Sinestro had become immortal, >>and thus an option, but that seems to no longer be the case." > >"Any idea who is the current avatar, then? Or rather, who will be?" "This Gruber character of Stranger's, apparently. We take him out of the picture, and the Adversary's work in this ficton will be undone." >> Then he grows thoughtful. "Maybe...maybe there's something left >>of the Great Battery...that might be why they're here. If the >>Adversary could corrupt that-" Roland's spine feels frozen over. >>"...mother of Light...if he could corrupt that... > >"Okay, this I _really_ could use an explanation of, please!" Roland sits. "Short version of a long story. For approximately three and a half billion years, the Green Lantern Corps defended their universe from all manner of cosmic threats. Their weapons were rings forged by the ancient Oans, powered by Green Lanterns, which in turn were linked to the Great Battery of Oa. Then the greatest of the GLC, Hal Jordan, apparently lost control due to the destruction of his home city and stole the Great Battery's power to resurrect the city and its people. Sinestro as much as admitted to me, however, that he took Hal's form...and maybe a piece of his soul...and did the deed himself. When the bit of Hal he stole took control of the new being known as 'Parallax' and sacrificed himself for his Earth, Sinestro became himself again, but greatly reduced in power. Which means the power of the Great Battery may have been expended...or may be free for the taking." >> "Let's go nail the son of a slug." > >Silence nods once, firmly, in silent and absolute agreement. > >And then Shadow asks the question that no one wants to hear: "How?" Roland smiles. "Teamwork. This time, we don't go in as a group of individuals (my fault really, for leaving in the first place) but as family-as Callahanians-and once we find their new base of operations, our combined skills will surely win the day. "The trick now is finding them. Now that I am no longer a potential asset, they won't be trying to lure me, or anyone else, in..." Roland suddenly looks uncomfortable. "You have an idea, Roland," he hears. "Gruber has a hate-on for Stranger," Roland says grudgingly. "If that hate is strong enough, it might be possible to exploit it. But that's too dangerous-" "If you were the one facing this, would you be saying that?" "That's different," Roland snaps. "I can't be killed." "That's not necessarily a good thing against men like Gruber and Sinestro." Roland frowns. "Stranger, it's your call. But I'm going on record as saying I don't like it one bit..." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/10/03 On 2 Oct 1996, Dion P. Marshall wrote: >Dion lifts his head and grins, "I have a plan and 'it's so cunning >you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel,' but it may get me >killed. If I can get the cooperation of some Others, and if I'm right >about the Adversary, it will work. If he is in close enough proximity >to a suitable avatar, can he avoid bonding? Obviously, he is >restricted to some degree to the abilities of the avatar, or he could >use any old joe. If he has to bond, I can arrange a long frustrating >vacation for him." Silence looks up. "Please explain, Dion," she says. "I'd like to know all the details of this one before we walk in." >"I can get you to the Place, with some minor restrictions. Leave your >cold iron here." Spreading his left hand, Dion causes the shadowy >form of a nematon to appear. Stepping through, the companions find >themselves on a path through a sparse woodland. Although the sky is >clear, the sunlight is wan and hesitant. Looking back through the now >solid nematon, the Stranger sees the others watching after for a >moment and then the view fades. Nellie barks and whines. Silence watches the nemeton's appearance and disappearance with longing, but doesn't let herself follow. Shadow, on the other hand, suddenly slips off her shoulder and darts into the circle of stones before they can vanish. >Turning the Stranger sees Dion confronted by a tall, elegant, haughty >woman. Beautiful and flawless as she is, there is no attraction, she >might as well be a statue. "Milady," says Dion worriedly, "is it your >intent to bar our passage?" "No," she says, although it is obvious >that she would wish to, "Fionbharr has given you full freedom of the >path, even to allowing you to carry the vile metal, for the time >being. I am here to oversee the shortening of the path and the >building of walls so that what you pass through here may not wander >off." "He'll allow cold iron?", an astonished Dion exclaims, "what >can be the price I'll pay for that boon?" "No price," she answers, >"Fionbharr fears that what you fight will not be content with mortal >lands, and so the fighting will be price enow." The lady fades. Shadow coughs quietly, and the lady pauses in her disappearance as she sees him. Her eyes light up and she seems a little less like a statue as she suddenly becomes solid again and catches up the K'therr--who has reverted to his natural coloring--with both of her delicate hands. "Old friend!" she cries. "I was wondering when the occasion would come to see thee again. Is all well with thee, aside from these recent mishaps?" Shadow nods, his voice slipping easily into the archaic style. "All is indeed well; I have happened upon a most true and steadfast companion, and she and I--" "She?" The lady smiles. "Art thou wed, then? And I not invited to the handfasting?" Shadow blushes. "Wed I am not, indeed! She is not of my kind. Indeed, I have yet to see another of the K'therr since I left thy much longed-for hearth, lady. Is my mother well?" Sorrow crosses the lady's face. "She made her passing not long after you left, my sorrow to say. She went in peace and with grace, and asked me to convey her love and well-wishes when next I saw thee. Thy sibs are well, though, full-grown now and near as rambunctious as thou wert at their age!" Shadow nods in acceptance of both good news and bad; mourning can wait until later. "How is Barraun?" he asks. "Is all well under the Hill?" "Aye, the songs and dancing continue as they e'er have. Few speak of fear as yet, though it does encroach more than any will admit. That which thou and thy companions fight, which I will not name while I have breath to more describe its foulness and strength to raise arms against it, has looked with despicable greed more than once upon our home. I should not let thee tarry long with me here, my friend. Thou hast much to do, and little time to do it in." She kisses his brow gently and then sets him once more on the ground. "Hurry, little one. Fight well, and may Fionn himself lend thee strength." "My thanks, lady," Shadow replies. "Fionnasa passed with gracious augaries, and I have less fear now than I might have with thy good wishes to warm my heart. My love to my sibs and Barraun!" And he takes flight after Dion and the Stranger, refusing to let himself look back. >Continuing on, the companions shortly reach another nematon. Passing >through, they arrive in the Place. "If cold iron will be allowed," >Dion remarks, "I have some things to get, myself. I'll return here >within an hour and we can go back the way we came." Shadow rummages quietly in a dark corner, collecting this and that. His packing is done well before the allotted time is up, and he busies himself writing a note, pen held delicately between his front paws. >True to his word, Dion returns before the clock above the bar chimes, >in one hand a short, double-bitted war axe, in the other a shopping >bag labeled "Stewarts'". Shadow meets the two at the part of the Place which is also within the nemeton. He is struggling with two large bags, one a serviceable leather sack and another which seems to have been made from the whole skin of a good-sized beaver. He unceremoniously drops them on the floor/ground and waits for someone to relieve him of his burdens. =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/10/03 On Thu, 3 Oct 1996, grammarfascist wrote: >Shadow meets the two at the part of the Place which is also within >the nemeton. He is struggling with two large bags, one a serviceable >leather sack and another which seems to have been made from the whole >skin of a good-sized beaver. He unceremoniously drops them on the >floor/ground and waits for someone to relieve him of his burdens. Xzerrion retrieves but one item, old and dusty from lack of use. It appears to be an amulet of some kind, though the sensitive can tell it radiates trong, ancient magic. Brushing back a tear, he explains : 'As the last surviving member of House Ril'lynttar, this is rightfully mine, though I have, until now, never found a use for it. This is our house sigil, used to identify other members of the family and to amplify any magic its users have. I have long known the spell for creating more as needed, but I have had no true family for decades. However, the power is needed now. Companions, if you are willing, I can form each of you a like medallion. Be warned, those weak of will can be currupted by this power, for it is drawn out of darkness. It is my belief, though, that dark power can be harnessed and used to serve the light, if the will using it has the strength. Will you each accept the gift? =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/10/03 On 3 Oct 1996, Roland X wrote: > Roland frowns. "Stranger, it's your call. But I'm going on record >as saying I don't like it one bit..." Xzerrion speaks up. 'Though it will cost me a bit in terms of power, I can give Stranger a few defenses, if they are needed. First of all, I *can*, with difficulty, make others non-corporeal as I do with myself sometimes, at least for short periods of time. Also, it is relatively simple for me to created illusionary mirrors of someone, to make it more difficult to find the correct one to shoot at. Thoughts on this idea?' =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/10/03 Paul Campbell wrote: >On Thu, 3 Oct 1996, grammarfascist wrote: >>>True to his word, Dion returns before the clock above the bar >>>chimes, in one hand a short, double-bitted war axe, in the other a >>>shopping bag labeled "Stewarts'". Roland laughs. "Nothing for me, thanks, I'm driving." >>Shadow meets the two at the part of the Place which is also within >>the nemeton. He is struggling with two large bags, one a serviceable >>leather sack and another which seems to have been made from the >>whole skin of a good-sized beaver. He unceremoniously drops them on >>the floor/ground and waits for someone to relieve him of his >>burdens. Roland sighs and helps distribute... "Um...what _is_ this stuff, Shadow?" >Xzerrion retrieves but one item, old and dusty from lack of use. It >appears to be an amulet of some kind, though the sensitive can tell >it radiates trong, ancient magic. Brushing back a tear, he explains: >'As the last surviving member of House Ril'lynttar, this is >rightfully mine, though I have, until now, never found a use for it. >This is our house sigil, used to identify other members of the family >and to amplify any magic its users have. I have long known the spell >for creating more as needed, but I have had no true family for >decades. However, the power is needed now. Companions, if you are >willing, I can form each of you a like medallion. Be warned, those >weak of will can be currupted by this power, for it is drawn out of >darkness. It is my belief, though, that dark power can be harnessed >and used to serve the light, if the will using it has the strength. >Will you each accept the gift? Roland swallows. Hard. His hunger, his greed, is near the surface after so recent a reclamation, but if such a talisman can help his friends... "No. I'm sorry. I'll rely on spellcasting if necessary, but I swore off enchanted items long ago." >Xzerrion speaks up. 'Though it will cost me a bit in terms of power, >I can give Stranger a few defenses, if they are needed. First of all, >I *can*, with difficulty, make others non-corporeal as I do with >myself sometimes, at least for short periods of time. Also, it is >relatively simple for me to created illusionary mirrors of someone, >to make it more difficult to find the correct one to shoot at. >Thoughts on this idea?' Then Roland perks up, smiling darkly. "I don't suppose," he says, "that you can cover someone else in such a 'mirror' to make, say, me look like Stranger?" Roland's smile broadens, imagining Gruber's face when he pulls his sword out of Roland's chest-and the wound heals... =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/10/03 On Thu, 3 Oct 1996, Paul Campbell wrote: >Xzerrion retrieves but one item, old and dusty from lack of use. It >appears to be an amulet of some kind, though the sensitive can tell >it radiates trong, ancient magic. Brushing back a tear, he explains: >'As the last surviving member of House Ril'lynttar, this is >rightfully mine, though I have, until now, never found a use for it. >This is our house sigil, used to identify other members of the family >and to amplify any magic its users have. I have long known the spell >for creating more as needed, but I have had no true family for >decades. However, the power is needed now. Companions, if you are >willing, I can form each of you a like medallion. Be warned, those >weak of will can be currupted by this power, for it is drawn out of >darkness. It is my belief, though, that dark power can be harnessed >and used to serve the light, if the will using it has the strength. >Will you each accept the gift? Silence glances down at the ring on her left hand, which bears an oddly blurred crest; one moment it seems to be a sword, the next a leaf, the next a mailed fist. "I have my own family medallions," she says quietly, looking up, "but I would be honored to be considered a member of your family, Xzerrion. I have just enough fear of the dark to be careful; I harnessed the rest of both the fear and the darkness long ago." Shadow's voice is equally soft, but there is now a hard edge to it that no one there has ever heard him speak with before. "I'll take you up on that one too, Xzerrion," he says. "I think we should all take a couple of days to get used to the augmentation, though; we don't want _anything_ in this battle that we don't know exactly how to use." He turns to Silence, indicating the second of the two bags he brought with him. "Jean sent that for you," he says. "She recommends you split it with Lady Cheron and any other healers in the party." Silence's eyes go wide, and she kneels down to untie the leather drawstring holding the bag closed. Then she reaches inside, her eyes closed and an expression of concentration on her face. The concentration is soon overcome by astonishment, and at last she completes her inventory and closes the bag again. "This is a priceless gift," she says, awe in her voice. "Lady Cheron, you and I had better go over these medicines together in case I'm taken out of the action again, especially if you're not familiar with the knot system of marking them. Are there any other healers here? Even those who aren't healers but have good memories should listen in, just in case." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: "Joseph H. Greene" Date: 1996/10/03 On 3 Oct 1996, Roland X wrote: > "Gruber has a hate-on for Stranger," Roland says grudgingly. "If >that hate is strong enough, it might be possible to exploit it. But >that's too dangerous-" > "If you were the one facing this, would you be saying that?" > "That's different," Roland snaps. "I can't be killed." > "That's not necessarily a good thing against men like Gruber and >Sinestro." > Roland frowns. "Stranger, it's your call. But I'm going on record >as saying I don't like it one bit..." A voice in the midst of the assembled company says, "Perhaps I can be of assistance?" Be seeing you, ? P.S.- No, it's _not_ Seosaidh... =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: dion.marshall@pobox.com (Dion P. Marshall) Date: 1996/10/04 grammarfascist (mickle@kestrel.scs.uiuc.edu) wrote: :On 2 Oct 1996, Dion P. Marshall wrote: :>Dion lifts his head and grins, "I have a plan and 'it's so cunning :>you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel,' but it may get me. : :Silence looks up. "Please explain, Dion," she says. "I'd like to know :all the details of this one before we walk in." "I have some talent with opening gates and setting wards. What I had in mind was to lead the adversary into a magic circle and seal it. The danger comes from my having to be sealed in with it. Within the circle I will open a gate to the center of a Black Hole. Every place imaginable exists somewhere, and I can open a gate from a place I can see to anyplace I can imagine. Ordinarily there are restrictions on what I can allow to pass through, so I'm going to have to get permission and probably pay a heavy price to allow either a Black Hole's influence or the Adversary to pass through one of my gates. If the Adversary gets sucked in, well and good, but my actual intention, and I think a better solution, is to open an "escape" gate for myself. When the Adversary overcomes me and passes through the gate, he'll be near a suitable avatar in a universe where the local laws disallow any kind of permanent success on the part of that avatar. Please don't ask me where, I have to keep some secrets. You'll find out if it comes off. I suppose that if everyone insists I could whisper it to one of you, but they'll have to keep it secret." :Shadow meets the two at the part of the Place which is also within :the nemeton. He is struggling with two large bags, one a serviceable :leather sack and another which seems to have been made from the whole :skin of a good-sized beaver. He unceremoniously drops them on the :floor/ground and waits for someone to relieve him of his burdens. Dion picks up Shadow's burdens. "How long have you known my sister?", he asks. At Shadow's startled look he says, "Fionbharr is my father. She's embarassed by that, she doesn't much like halflings. I come and go as I please, and can do one or two things she can't, but there's really no place for me at court, and I have little love for their games. At heart I'm a mortal man. She might even kill me, but she's not sure what will become of me after I die. If only the mortal part died, I'ld be eligible as heir. The Sidhe have little concern for legitimacy but much for propriety. By the way, do you like ice-cream? Look in this bag." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: Lady Cheron Date: 1996/10/04 Paul Campbell wrote: >Xzerrion retrieves but one item, old and dusty from lack of use. It >appears to be an amulet of some kind, though the sensitive can tell >it radiates trong, ancient magic. Brushing back a tear, he explains: >'As the last surviving member of House Ril'lynttar, this is >rightfully mine, though I have, until now, never found a use for it. >This is our house sigil, used to identify other members of the family >and to amplify any magic its users have. I have long known the spell >for creating more as needed, but I have had no true family for >decades. However, the power is needed now. Companions, if you are >willing, I can form each of you a like medallion. Be warned, those >weak of will can be currupted by this power, for it is drawn out of >darkness. It is my belief, though, that dark power can be harnessed >and used to serve the light, if the will using it has the strength. >Will you each accept the gift? Lady Cheron bows her head at the magnitude of the offer. "I must decline, Xzerrion. A medallion that amplifies magic is no good when one has no magic. And I do not care to risk the dark side for an identity beacon alone. But I thank you for the offer, indeed." She busies herself with an inventory of her medical kit. "I need to restock a few basics. And now is the time--if any of the non-humans have anything they would like me to add to the kit--salves, potions, and the like, pass it to me." She hands Mike a silver flask inscribed with the words MEDICINAL PURPOSES ONLY. "Mike, be a dear and refill this, will you. The usual." Medical kit restowed, she looks at the rest of the party. "Well, what is it to be this time? Do I grab ammunition, or sharpen my blade? Or both?" =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: dion.marshall@pobox.com (Dion P. Marshall) Date: 1996/10/04 Paul Campbell (xzerrion@u.washington.edu) wrote: :Be warned, those weak of will can be currupted by this power, for it :is drawn out of darkness. It is my belief, though, that dark power :can be harnessed and used to serve the light, if the will using it :has the strength. Will you each accept the gift? "Thank you, my friend, I accept the honor of brotherhood with you, but I can't accept the item you offer. Most of the magics I control are limited not by ability, but by the whims of others. Currently those restrictions are lifted. We are like family to each other, all of us." Dion hands the shopping bag to a ship's steward, "dish this out,if you please." The steward hands around dishes containing an unusual ice-cream. "This is one of my favorite flavors, it's called 'Box of Chocolates'. It's a light chocolate ice-cream with cherry cordial marbling and tiny chocolate cups similar to Reese's peanut butter cups except that they contain various fillings. I wanted us to share at least one really good thing before we went on to share something hard, difficult and nasty. Steward, don't give any to Nellie, chocolate isn't good for dogs, that small whitish cup of ice-cream is for her." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx9@aol.com (Roland X9) Date: 1996/10/04 Arrgh. Netcom has chosen to put the thumbscrews to me, so I am posting this from my AOHell account. (Yes, I have AOHell. I'm only still with them because of my ladylove, but that's a long story...) Roland smiles at Stranger. "No worries, friend. I've got this one covered. When we return to Oa, Gruber will have the surprise of his life. Xzerrion?" With a nod, Xzerrion's magic flows around Roland...and Stranger's image can be seen over Roland's own. "Just how much does Gruber hate you, Stranger?" Roland asks with a smile. "Anyway, here's my plan. We draw out Gruber with this little ruse. He'll surely bring Sinestro and a good number of grunts, as well as his elite Manhunters. (Ghouls...looting Oa's remains...) We can handle them. The trick will be either killing Gruber or separating the Halo from him. If you want Gruber man-to-man, Stranger, I'll do what I can about his position as avatar. But either way, we have to nail him and Sinestro. Once that's done, Oa, and this area of the ficton-verse, should be relatively safe again." Roland remembers to breathe again with a slight grin. "Any questions, team?" =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/10/04 On Thu, 3 Oct 1996, grammarfascist wrote: >Silence glances down at the ring on her left hand, which bears an >oddly blurred crest; one moment it seems to be a sword, the next a >leaf, the next a mailed fist. "I have my own family medallions," she >says quietly, looking up, "but I would be honored to be considered a >member of your family, Xzerrion. I have just enough fear of the dark >to be careful; I harnessed the rest of both the fear and the darkness >long ago." > >Shadow's voice is equally soft, but there is now a hard edge to it >that no one there has ever heard him speak with before. "I'll take >you up on that one too, Xzerrion," he says. "I think we should all >take a couple of days to get used to the augmentation, though; we >don't want _anything_ in this battle that we don't know exactly how >to use." Xzerrion nods, and steps back, holding the medallion in both hands, muttering incantations in a language perhaps never before heard here. Afterwards, he sits down. Hard. His face going momentarily pale, he opens his hands, now holding three medallions, and places the original around his neck. =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/10/04 On 3 Oct 1996, Roland X wrote: > Roland swallows. Hard. His hunger, his greed, is near the surface >after so recent a reclamation, but if such a talisman can help his >friends... > "No. I'm sorry. I'll rely on spellcasting if necessary, but I >swore off enchanted items long ago." Understood. > Then Roland perks up, smiling darkly. "I don't suppose," he says, >"that you can cover someone else in such a 'mirror' to make, say, me >look like Stranger?" > Roland's smile broadens, imagining Gruber's face when he pulls his >sword out of Roland's chest-and the wound heals... *chuckle* Actually, yes, I can make you like like Stranger's own twin brother. *evil grin* =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/10/05 dion.marshall@pobox.com (Dion P. Marshall) wrote: >"I have some talent with opening gates and setting wards. What I had >in mind was to lead the adversary into a magic circle and seal it. >The danger comes from my having to be sealed in with it. Within the >circle I will open a gate to the center of a Black Hole. Every place >imaginable exists somewhere, and I can open a gate from a place I can >see to anyplace I can imagine. Ordinarily there are restrictions on >what I can allow to pass through, so I'm going to have to get >permission and probably pay a heavy price to allow either a Black >Hole's influence or the Adversary to pass through one of my gates. If >the Adversary gets sucked in, well and good, but my actual intention, >and I think a better solution, is to open an "escape" gate for >myself. When the Adversary overcomes me and passes through the gate, >he'll be near a suitable avatar in a universe where the local laws >disallow any kind of permanent success on the part of that avatar. Roland weighs this carefully. "The Adversary does not exist in realspace as we understand it. At the moment, it is a being of dreamstuff. This cripples its true power, but makes directly confronting it problematic at best. Which is just as well, as it could probably stand up to anyone/thing presently at Callahan's, including Nyartholep. It is his chosen avatar we need to deal with for now." Roland smiles weakly. "Besides, considering how much time and 'energy' it has invested in this little escapade, it will be licking its wounds for a long time to come if we defeat it here. "Besides, just the _thought_ of the Adversary with access to a black hole freezes my blood." >Dion picks up Shadow's burdens. "How long have you known my sister?", >he asks. At Shadow's startled look he says, "Fionbharr is my father. >She's embarassed by that, she doesn't much like halflings. I come and >go as I please, and can do one or two things she can't, but there's >really no place for me at court, and I have little love for their >games. At heart I'm a mortal man. She might even kill me, but she's >not sure what will become of me after I die. If only the mortal part >died, I'ld be eligible as heir. The Sidhe have little concern for >legitimacy but much for propriety. By the way, do you like ice-cream? >Look in this bag." "Oog. My condolences. Pride Nimrod of my own people is much like that. Thank the Light I am of Pride Phoenix." Roland smiles suddenly. "Hmm...maybe we could gate _Gruber_ into something nasty, like a blue giant or such...any thoughts, folx?" Wondering what the heart of a blue-white would do to Sinestro... =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: andral1@ro.com (AJ) Date: 1996/10/05 wargamer@patriot.net says... >Lady Cheron bows her head at the magnitude of the offer. "I must >decline, Xzerrion. A medallion that amplifies magic is no good when >one has no magic. And I do not care to risk the dark side for an >identity beacon alone. But I thank you for the offer, indeed." AJ nods. "That's an honor I hate to decline, but Lady C is right." >Medical kit restowed, she looks at the rest of the party. "Well, what >is it to be this time? Do I grab ammunition, or sharpen my blade? Or >both?" "I don't think that you can be over gunned on this one. I've restocked my ammo bags for the Thompson and laid on a new supply of grenades. Does anyone else need some 20th century firearms repair? I'm no master gunsmith, but I can make most modern guns go bang from the proper end." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/10/05 On Fri, 4 Oct 1996, Paul Campbell wrote: >Xzerrion nods, and steps back, holding the medallion in both hands, >muttering incantations in a language perhaps never before heard here. >Afterwards, he sits down. Hard. His face going momentarily pale, he >opens his hands, now holding three medallions, and places the >original around his neck. Silence pauses before putting hers on. "These _can_ be removed, yes?" she asks. "Because if not, that effort was sadly wasted, Xzerrion... I don nothing that I cannot remove." Shadow nods his agreement, and they wait for an answer. ===========================