Action, Adventure, Excitement, Part 2 Chapter 8 - Finale (NOTE: all posts either to or cc ) {Another note: While these are (mostly) in posted order, there's some back-tracking as far as the story line is concerned. I thought about trying to fix that, but IMHO it would have been far more trouble than it was worth.} From: gamer@mail.hvs.com Date: Tue, 1 Apr 1997 06:22:24 -0500 Subject: Aae-Return of old Gods Eventually, Roscoe and Squee show up again, and the bloodlust and anger in Roscoe's mind seems to have been replaced by mere fatigue. Morgan looks around at everyone and noticed with some irritation, Driss has wandered off yet again. Before she can make any queries as to his whereabouts, several explosions can be heard from the bottom of the stairwell. After leaving the gift of a handful of Grenadoes to the creatures outside, it was a simple matter for Driss to step through the high security blast door and into the chamber behind it. Inside was a huge chamber, looking at least a quarter mile in length and two stories tall. Because of the spiral nature of the stairs, Driss hadn't even noticed the lack of doors for a floor above the bottom one. Dominating the middle of the room was the battery. A huge, disgusting thing, it seemed to be made from body parts of various creatures sewn together. Tubes entering and leaving it carried blood and other fluids, keeping it alive, though not much more. A large Dish-like antenna was set up near a large window. From it came a sparkling beam, but Driss's attentions moved away quickly. The battery was not his prey. A shot rang out. Driss jumped, and his seven league boots took him up about ten feet, then brought him down again gently. Then a voice called out from somewhere in the room, "I see my failed weapon has returned in an ironic attempt to finish me. This too had been planned on." Driss reached out with his mind, seeing the swirls of Chaos around everything, and noticed 5 tell-tale forms that lacked it. Of them, only one breathed. Driss raised his ring, and ink-like blackness filled the room. Another shot ripped through his wrist, sending flesh and bits of bone everywhere. As he screamed, Driss thought to himself, "Damn, those robots must have radar or infrared or something." The darkness disappeared, and so did Driss as he stepped backwards into his cloak. The piece of cloth floated to the ground gently, and three more shots rang out, though none of them punctured the cloak. The controller moved cautiously to the cloak, puzzled. Then the cloak began to move. Finally Driss leapt out of it. He looked to be dressed the same, but now he wore a harlequin mask and his wrist was fine. "Chaos didn't notice I did take a bit of him away earlier. Enough that the Harlequin God of Thieves of Quaren is reborn." =========================== Subject: Re: Aae-Return of old Gods Date: Tue, 1 Apr 97 19:33:03 -0000 From: Roland X Quoth the Gamer aka Driscoll: > A shot rang out. Driss jumped, and his seven legue boots took him up >about ten feet, then brought him down again gently. > Then a voice called out from somewhere in the room, "I see my failed >weapon has returned in an ironic attempt to finish me. This too had >been planned on." Roland snarls. "Did you plan on this, you bastard?" He takes out the sigil of Order and prepares to throw. One of the robots grabs his hand. "Of course," the Controller says. "Grife," Roland sighs... > Driss reached out with his mind, seeing the swirls of Chaos around >everything, and noticed 5 tell-tale forms that lacked it. Of them, >only one breathed. Driss raised his ring, and ink-like blackness >filled the room. Another shot ripped through his wrist, sending flesh >and bits of bone everywhere. As he screamed, Driss thought to >himself, "Damn, those robots must have radar or infrared or >something." "Driscoll!" Roland turns, draws his sword, and plunges it into the robot all in one motion, spinning on the axis of his wrist. Several thousand volts of electricity pass through the machine's 'body.' The robot lets go and falls. > The darkness disappeared, and so did Driss as he stepped backwards >into his cloak. The peice of cloth floated to the ground gently, and >three more shots rang out, though none of them punctured the cloak. > The controller moved cautiously to the cloak, puzzled. Then the >cloak began to move. Finally Driss lept out of it. He loooked to be >dressed the same, but now he wore a harlequin mask and his wrist was >fine. > "Chaos didn't notice I did take a bit of him away earlier. Enough >that the Harlequin God of Theives of Quaren is reborn." "As if things weren't interesting enough..." Roland sighs, cutting off the robot's head (as it tries to get up) without even turning. =========================== Date: Tue, 1 Apr 1997 17:50:02 -0800 (PST) From: Paul Campbell Subject: Re: Aae-Return of old Gods On Tue, 1 Apr 1997, Roland X wrote: > "Driscoll!" Roland turns, draws his sword, and plunges > it into the robot all in one motion, spinning on the axis > of his wrist. Several thousand volts of electricity pass > through the machine's 'body.' The robot lets go and falls. Xzerrion, in full demonic form, charges into the room, snarling ferociously. The only familiar part of this appearance is his two blades, though they now appear to be held by two long, tentacled arms. `I have come for you, Controller. It is time for you and your minions to take their righful place in Hell.' Immediately, several shots ring out, penetrating the reptilian hide of the (apparent) demon in several places, though it does not bleed. `Fool, your puny weapons cannot harm me.' Xzerrion, enjoying his demon impersonation far too much, strides forward slowly, cleaving the limbs of multiple robots with his enchanted blades, as none of them managed to find his real body through the illusion yet. >> "Chaos didn't notice I did take a bit of him away earlier. Enough >>that the Harlequin God of Theives of Quaren is reborn." > > "As if things weren't interesting enough..." Roland sighs, > cutting off the robot's head (as it tries to get up) without > even turning. =========================== Date: Tue, 01 Apr 1997 18:53:09 From: "L.J. Wolfe" Subject: AAE: Getting down to the wire At 06:22 AM 4/1/97 -0500, Driscoll wrote: > Dominating the middle of the room was the battery. A huge, >disgusting thing, it seemed to be made from body parts of various >creatures sewn together. Tubes entering and leaving it carried blood >and other fluids, keeping it alive, though not much more. > A large Dish-like antenna was set up near a large window. From it >came a sparkling beam, but Driss's attentions moved away quickly. The >battery was not his prey. But it _was_ hers. Morgan took note of this set-up through the link, along with the apparent number of their adversaries, the abilities they've exhibited, and everything else the Callahanians in the room were aware of. >Another shot ripped through his wrist, sending flesh and bits of bone >everywhere. As he screamed, Driss thought to himself, "Damn, those >robots must have radar or infrared or something." Wincing as the pain traveled through the link, Morgan sends to her comrades. <*Everyone, we can't afford to be doing a Corsican Brothers here.*> A sense of leafy greenness permeates the psi-web. <*This is from something I use for strength and protection. We are as a grove of trees, and though we will be aware of injuries to our brethren we will not feel the pain ourselves.*> And then at 05:50 PM 4/1/97 -0800, Xzerrion wrote: >On Tue, 1 Apr 1997, Roland X wrote: >> "Driscoll!" Roland turns, draws his sword, and plunges >> it into the robot all in one motion, spinning on the axis >> of his wrist. Several thousand volts of electricity pass >> through the machine's 'body.' The robot lets go and falls. Morgan thinks, <*Three.*> >Xzerrion, enjoying his demon impersonation far too much, strides >forward slowly, cleaving the limbs of multiple robots with his >enchanted blades, as none of them managed to find his real body >through the illusion yet. <*Two? One? Much better odds, although I'm sure the creep has _something_ else up his sleeve.*> >>> "Chaos didn't notice I did take a bit of him away earlier. Enough >that the Harlequin God of Thieves of Quaren is reborn." If Morgan wanted someone to keep enemy attention off her, she now had it in spades (or at least Jokers. Sorry, Driss, couldn't pass that one up ;-).) Using every once of training at her disposal, she edged into the room and around toward the battery. Training also helped to keep her stomach from going into full revolt at the sight of the abomination. In sharp contrast, the beam of light from the antenna was a jewel-like, sparkling green. Morgan looked out the window, her gaze tracking along the beam. In the distance sat fair Arcadia, the deceptively beautiful beam from the battery's transmitter already beginning to distort and reform things at the forest border. As she watched, a flight of Oberon's warriors on dragon-back mounted an attack. The mountain was apparently shielded, because they would come only so close and then suddenly turn away. One flew through the path of the beam, and rider and mount were suddenly transformed into a young boy and a large dog, who both plummeted to their death. In Arcadia, Titania and Oberon looked at each other in dismay. Their realm was being reshaped and they appeared powerless to stop it. Any magic they used only gave more power to their enemy. Morgan felt a surge of energy back through the beam. <*Xzerrion, Roscoe, all of you sidhe, stay clear of that beam. It's got a feedback set up to drain the faerie energy from any magical being it contacts. The immortal or superhero types should be reasonably safe, but it'd be fatal to any fae.*> She crouched near the window, mentally feeling out the battery/transmitter mechanism, and a plan of attack began forming in her mind..... Morgan /|\ =========================== From: gamer@mail.hvs.com Date: Tue, 1 Apr 1997 20:29:16 -0500 Subject: Aae-Driss's turn Driss looks at his companion's attacks and shakes his head, and the black-lined grin on his mask moves as he speaks, "Tut Tut Tut, have you no style? No poetic soul? Must you act like a mugger in an alley, bashing the brain out of your victim?" Then he disappears in a wisp of smoke, to re-appear directly in front of the last Executioner, knocking it over. Driss bows and helps the robot back to its feet, brushing it off, then pumping the mechanical hand vigorously. Turning his back on the machine, he opens his hand to reveal a dozen or so assorted nuts, bolts and screws as the robot behind him litterally falls to pieces. The Controller makes a break for it past the battery as turrent mounted machineguns and lasers pop out of the floor and ceiling. They open fire, and red, green, yellow and white begin to cover the walls and floors around the party as the machineguns fire gumdrops and the lasers fire licorice. Driss appears in front of The Controller, rapier drawn. One of The Controller's mechanical arms raises up a small black box. "Let me go, or I will press this button and reverse the poles on the battery's charging unit. That battery currently has aproxomately 10% of the energy of Arcadia in it. Ever charge a car battery with the cables on the wrong terminals? Imagine what a battery that size will do." Driss shakes his head slowly, but then a panel opens on the Controller's body and a missle fires out, striking Driss. Not enough to hurt a God, but enough to knock him off balance and into the beam. Driss's form begins to change. The mask disappears and he grows a few inches to stand 6'6". His long blonde hair turns brown, and a red beard sprouts. His thin wirey frame becomes large and more muscular, and the emerald green eyes become blue. The Controller smiles as he sees what he has done, but it fades as Richard starts walking towards him, rapier still in his hand, though it is now just steel rather than mithril. "Driss may have just vanished, but I'm still here. Calahan's doesn't make Driss what he is. _I_ make him what he is." The Controller's eyes narrow to slits. "You fool. I can't fight you all, but I can kill us all together." And he presses the button on the remote control. Somewhere, a garage door opens. Richard smiles as he swings the rapier expertly and whispers, "goodbye" as the Controller's human head leaves his mechanical body. An alarm klaxon sounds and hidden doors open up with robots of all shapes and esigns pouring out of them looking to kill. In the main Control Room on the top floor, another door opens, and a small robot rolls out. It moves over to a bank of computers and removes a large section, securing it in a compartment in it's torso. Then it moves to a control panel and opens an X-window, vanishing through it to god only knows where. The window closes again, and the Control Room is silent. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE: Getting down to the wire Date: Wed, 2 Apr 97 00:32:34 -0000 From: Roland X Sayeth the Lady Morgan: >Morgan felt a surge of energy back through the beam. <*Xzerrion, >Roscoe, all of you sidhe, stay clear of that beam. It's got a >feedback set up to drain the faerie energy from any magical being it >contacts. The immortal or superhero types should be reasonably safe, >but it'd be fatal to any fae.*> > >She crouched near the window, mentally feeling out the battery / >transmitter mechanism, and a plan of attack began forming in her >mind..... Roland smiled ferally. "That's me on both counts. Here." He offers the sigil of Order to Morgan. "I have a debt to pay the Controller, and he's too... orderly... to hurt with this." Then, to quote Driscoll: > Driss looks at his companion's attacks and shakes his head, and the >black-lined grin on his mask moves as he speaks, "Tut Tut Tut, have >you no style? No poetic soul? Must you act like a mugger in an alley, >bashing the brain out of your victim?" "You've got a lot of mouth for someone who was trying to kill me an hour ago," Roland cracks, his voice even but his mouth twisted into a smile. > The Controller smiles as he sees what he has done, but it fades as >Richard starts walking towards him, rapier still in his hand, though >it is now just steel rather than mithril. "Driss may have just >vanished, but I'm still here. Calahan's doesn't make Driss what he >is. _I_ make him what he is." > The Controller's eyes narrow to slits. "You fool. I can't fight you >all, but I can kill us all together." and he presses the button on >the remote control. Roland throws up forcefields everywhere, and braces himself. > Somewhere, a garage door opens. ROFLMAO! > Ricahrd smiles as he swings the rapier expertly and whispers, >"goodbye" as the Controller's human head leaves his mechanical body. > An alarm klaxon sounds and hidden doors open up with robots of all >shapes and esigns pouring out of them looking to kill. "Okay, that still doesn't explain why I had to die-" One of the robots is a Manhunter. Armed to the teeth with cold iron and other various and sundry magic-killing devices. "Oy. Me and my big mouth..." The Manhunter leaps into the air gracefully, doing a somersault and landing next to- "MORGAN!" "No man escapes the Manhunters," the golden Grandmaster duplicate intones emotionlessly. Roland slams into it at relativistic speed. The two are firmly imbedded in a wall for a moment, until a golden fist slams Roland several feet away. "No man escapes the Manhunters," the robot repeats, "not even an immortal man." It draws its combat baton. "You want duelling catchphrases? Fine. 'There can be only one.'" Roland draws his sword. "Any time you're ready, you glorified bucket of bolts." The duel begins... =========================== Date: Tue, 01 Apr 1997 21:39:31 From: "L.J. Wolfe" Subject: AAE-Morgan's turn At 08:29 PM 4/1/97 -0500, Driscoll wrote: > An alarm klaxon sounds and hidden doors open up with robots of all >shapes and esigns pouring out of them looking to kill. From her hiding place near the battery, Morgan watches as battle is joined. Her friends are grossly outnumbered by the bots, who seem to be appearing faster than the Army of Light can take them out. Before she can join them, however, she becomes aware of a bigger threat. The battery was starting to hum. The output was increasing, and in Arcadia the energy beam was starting to destroy instead of reform. Whole sections of forest were being turned to blackened nothingness. Morgan looked over the mechanism. <*This thing has got to be stopped _now_, or there won't be any of Arcadia left. I think I know how to do this. Give me a perimeter, friends - I'm not going to have any concentration to spare on combat.*> Before anyone can stop her, she steps into the beam. Both hands raised, the Greywolf makes herself a diffractor, dispersing the energy as widely as possible. What hits her as a beam becomes a green mist, spreading harmlessly through space-time. All but one, small, tight beam, which is focused back on the mechanism's control panel. A low hum escalates into a whine, and the others in the psi-web feel Morgan fighting to retain her concentration. The pitch of the whine increases, and the battery begins to vibrate. The wolves at her side lend what help they can, but even with their boost she knew she was nearing her limits. Out of nowhere a Manhunter lands next to her, .> and is suddenly whisked away, causing her focus to slip. The force of the beam pushes her back a step. Taking a deep breath, she regains control and focuses even more of the stolen Arcadian energy back into the control panel. The whine rises above the audible level, and Morgan spares a shred of concentration to shout through the link, <*Incoming!*> As the Callahanians dive for cover, the battery explodes in a blinding flash. *** Later, months later, in several dimensions that, unbeknownst to their occupants, bordered Arcadia, people were heard to comment on what a bountiful Spring it had been. The fruit was sweeter and more plentiful, roses perfumed the air more beautifully, than anyone could remember. *** In Arcadia, Titania and Oberon breathed a sigh of relief as the attack on their realm came to a sudden stop. They sensed, however, that the battle was still being fought. Oberon called his troops to form up, and he and his queen headed for the source of the energy beam. As they approached the mountain, a blast of green-tinged smoke burst from a hole in the side of the peak. *** The smoke cleared in the battery chamber. None of the robots were standing - apparently they had either been powered by the battery, or the blast had disrupted their circuitry to the point of shut-down. Callahanians began picking themselves up, dusting off, checking themselves and their comrades for injuries. As the psi-web came back on line, an absence was apparent. Across from the wreck of the battery, two furry figures detached from a heap that lay against the wall. Cutter and Leetah nuzzled each other, then turned their attention to the still unmoving grey-clad form. First one, then the other, started to whimper, and their confusion could be felt even without the link. One of the Callahanians {perhaps if one of you guys was thinking about maybe going beyond a little flirtatious banter, you could write yourself in here ;-)} approaches Morgan, gently pressing fingers to the side of her throat, then slowly sitting back, eyes on the floor. The Army of Light stood in silence, each in their own way assimilating the loss. The wolves began to howl, but the sound suddenly cut off. The wolves took a step back as the grey form moved, and, groggily, Morgan sat up. "Calm down, guys, I'm OK." She moved a bit to make sure everything worked, and looked around. "Is everyone ok? I wasn't sure if that warning was in time for everyone to.... What are you all staring at?" She looked at their faces, then down at her own charred clothing, the blood on the floor that was apparently hers, and the rather impressive dent in the wall behind her. Her eyes grew wide as she looked from Roland, to Stranger, to... is that Driscoll? "Um, I... Was I....?" "Yes, Morgan." All eyes turn to Titania, standing inside the window, Oberon at her side and their guard on dragon back hovering outside. "You were willing to give yourself to save our land, even though you're not of the fae. An ally like that is too valuable to loose." She smiled, and at a wave of her hand a mithril torc glowed at Morgan's throat. "If you think this too great a gift, consider it as restoring a balance. One immortal was lost," she indicated Driscoll, "so another is created." At a rare loss for words, Morgan stared at the royal couple. Such a gift warranted gratitude, but she'd spent too much time around immortals to see it as anything but a mixed blessing at best. And she was a Highlander. If they'd kept that model.... Oberon saw the hesitancy in her eyes. "Not to worry, Morgan of the Oaks. This is meant to be a gift, not a curse. The torc you wear can only be removed in two ways. One is by your own hand, and at your own free will. Should you ever weary of immortality, remove that torc and you will be restored to the body you had before this day's adventures, to live out life as fate decrees." Morgan's hand crept to the torc as she considered this. "You said two ways. The other?" Titania's laugh sparkled through the room. "Well, you _are_ a Highlander. If you no longer have a neck.... No, don't worry!" She hurried to reassure Morgan as an unpleasant though sprang to mind. "That's the only part of the Highlander paradigm we used. There _can_ be more than one." The Greywolf's eyes moved from one comrade to another as her new state gradually sank in. Her wandering gaze ended at the royal couple, and in an instant she was on one knee before them. Her wolves, as always, were at her side. "Majesties," her voice was choked with emotion. "There are no adequate thanks for such a gift. I cannot even offer you unconditional fealty, for my ties to my Clan supersede any other loyalties. But I can give this: whenever it doesn't conflict with my obligations to my kin, my skills and my blade are at your service," She smiled as a phrase heard many times at Society events came to mind. "'Til you depart your thrones, death take me or the world end." =========================== From: Martin Gerster Subject: Re: AAE: Getting down to the wire, etc. Date: Wed, 02 Apr 97 01:31:33 PST To Quote Roland X (rolandx@ix.netcom.com): > "Oy. Me and my big mouth..." > The Manhunter leaps into the air gracefully, doing a > somersault and landing next to- > "MORGAN!" > "No man escapes the Manhunters," the golden Grandmaster > duplicate intones emotionlessly. "Yeah you idiotic robot, but she's a WOMAN!" chimes in Dhyrclhanc the Sentinel-Lensdragon. > Roland slams into it at relativistic speed. > The two are firmly imbedded in a wall for a moment, > until a golden fist slams Roland several feet away. > "No man escapes the Manhunters," the robot repeats, > "not even an immortal man." It draws its combat baton. > "You want duelling catchphrases? Fine. 'There can be > only one.'" Roland draws his sword. "Any time you're ready, > you glorified bucket of bolts." > The duel begins... And before that (The scene with this Sentinel-Lensdragon is doing his ring-thing sniped) >> "Storm-Breaker," says the adolecent Ruby Fire Dragon, "I knew that >> this would eventually come in handy. Dhyrclhanc then faces the Drow >> in the room, wondering what to do next. > > Roland swallows. "That is a _bad_ idea, Dhyrclhanc. Gaunt > boasted that it was 'consecrated'-if that's the word-in a > slave pit, made from the bones of the sacrificed. IOW, it's > charged with _major_ bad karma." "Eep!" rejoinders the adolecent Ruby Fire Dragon to the Freelance Immortal. and the "ivory scimitar" returns to its previous form. "Actually, I might still be able to get some use out of this thing, yet!" considers Dhyrclhanc, as he incases the accursed artafact in a ring generated containment field. He then manipulates the field around so that the Bone Brand is pointing twards the bio-battery. /Hey/ mentally shouts the draconian Lensman, through the Psi-web,/Who here hasn't seen "the Serpent and the Rainbow?"/ then to the bio-battery ?I want to hear you Screem!/ and launches the Bone Blade straight into the 'heart' of the goulish bio-battery. Then Morgan O'Daire (L.J. Wolf, ljwolf@eee.org) said: >The battery was starting to hum. The output was increasing, and in >Arcadia the energy beam was starting to destroy instead of reform. >Whole sections of forest were being turned to blackened nothingness. "Oops!" > Morgan looked over the mechanism. <*This thing has got to be stopped >_now_, or there won't be any of Arcadia left. I think I know how to >do this. Give me a perimeter, friends - I'm not going to have any >concentration to spare on combat.*> Before anyone can stop her, she >steps into the beam. "Whew, well now that this is over with, back to the Place everybody. Everyone get on the dragon-bus. I'm buying for everyone, once we're back in Callahan's" In so saying, the Sentnel-Lensdragon uses his Sentinel/GL's ring to both open a B-5 style jump-point back to the Place *and* creates a huge, jade-colored, school bus, big enough to fit all of the assembled Callahanian Army of Light. The draconian Lensman begins counting heads in the celebratory throng and realizes we're missing a couple. "I'm not gonna go through this whole mess again so that we bring back another 'lost lambs.'" he groans, "Hey everybody, we gotta find Lightlord and Stardragon before we can leave!" (Sigh!) =========================== Date: Wed, 2 Apr 1997 01:37:26 -0600 From: Michael Jon Knight Subject: AAE - Sorry, got lost...be right there... From: gamer@mail.hvs.com > in the main Control Room on the top floor, another door opens, and a >small robot rolls out. It moves over to a bank of computers and >removes a large section, securing it in a compartment in it's torso. >Then it moves to a control panel and opens an X-window, vanishing >through it to god only knows where. The window closes again, and the >Control Room is silent. A distinctly malevolent laugh echoes around the room...From the Shadows two cat eyes stare at the space where the X-window was before...The black cloaked figure of Knytt steps out of the shadows where he had been standing and across the control room where the computer banks were. A black-gloved hand reachs out and picks up a small black cube. "Electromagnet. Works every time. Whatever was on those computer banks is gone. Wiped clean." Cutter and Leetah appear behind Knytt, nudging him towards the door. "Okay, we can go. Glad I followed that feeling up here.........I *was not* lost!.....Alright, a little.....Let's get back to the group." As the trio enter the stairwell, they suddenly get an image of the rest of the group under attack. Leetah and Cutter tear down the stairs at full speed, Knytt following as quickly as he can. Cutter hit the basement first, leaping towards the nearest robot, knocking it into a fuse box. The Bot promptly exploded. Cutter, unharmed, looked for a second target as Leetah ran through the doorway. They both saw a large robot, moving towards Morgan, blaster aimed squarely at her. Both wolves leapt simultaniously, hitting the thing solidly in the chest. The bot lost his balance, tripping over a smaller bot behind it. The large droid's blaster fired into the roof, sending a large mass of stones, burying it. Knytt dashes through the doorway to see the Callahanians and their metallic foes. "Great. More droids. Let's see how they stand up to my pistol - Where are my guns? For that matter, where did my costume go?" Knytt finally notices he is no longer in the cloak and slouch hat of the Shadow, but dressed in robes and a head scarf, as if he was just coming from a caravan in the Sahara. A large schimitar hangs from his waist. "Very Sheik..." A tall thin robot turns towards Knytt. Two swords jut from its wrists and the machine starts whirling them around it's body, slowly moving towards Knytt. <<>> Knytt looks at the blaster that materialized in his hand. "Funny, was just thinking of that Raiders of the Lost Ark scene..." From: "L.J. Wolfe" >Morgan looked over the mechanism. <*This thing has got to be stopped >_now_, or there won't be any of Arcadia left. I think I know how to >do this. Give me a perimeter, friends - I'm not going to have any >concentration to spare on combat.*> Before anyone can stop her, she >steps into the beam. "Morgan, WAIT!" >The smoke cleared in the battery chamber. None of the robots were >standing - apparently they had either been powered by the battery, or >the blast had disrupted their circuitry to the point of shut-down. >Callahanians began picking themselves up, dusting off, checking >themselves and their comrades for injuries. As the psi-web came back >on line, an absence was apparent. Knytt coughed and struggled to his feet. As the regenerative proccess kicked in, he looked around... "Morgan? Morgan!?!" >Across from the wreck of the battery, two furry figures detached from >a heap that lay against the wall. Cutter and Leetah nuzzled each >other, then turned their attention to the still unmoving grey-clad >form. First one, then the other, started to whimper, and their >confusion could be felt even without the link. Knytt ran from the chamber to the eerily still body of Morgan. >One of the Callahanians {perhaps if one of you guys was >thinking about maybe going beyond a little flirtatious banter, you >could write yourself in here ;-)} approaches Morgan, gently pressing >fingers to the side of her throat, then slowly sitting back, eyes on >the floor. Knytt leant his head over Morgan's...no breathing. He placed a hand against Morgan's neck, fingers trying to find a nonexistant pulse. Knytt went into auto pilot, administering CPR without thinking. Later, he wouldn't remember doing it, or what he said. "*Morgan!* *You* *can't* *go!* *We* *need* *you* *here!* *No* *one* *said* *you* *could* *leave!* *Morgan!* *Come* *back* *to* *us* *Morgan!* ... He continued this pattern, alternately pleading and demanding Morgan return to the Land of the Living. Finally, exhausted from the battles, mental fatigue, and emotional drain, Knytt collapsed backwards against a tree, half-sitting/half-lying on the ground. Knytt then whispered "I'm sorry Morgan..." Staring at his Lens on the left wrist, it shattered and vanished. Mental barriers slammed down tight as Knytt yanked himself from the group mind. He then turned and staggered into the woods. Pyewackett, unmerged when their connection to the Psi-Web crashed, followed Knytt, close, but respectfully so. He knew mourning when he saw it. =========================== Date: Wed, 2 Apr 1997 03:22:37 -0800 (PST) From: fuzzy Subject: Re: AAE-Morgan's turn On Tue, 1 Apr 1997, L.J. Wolfe wrote: [snip] > If we find one and no body object to me or my character, I'm Up for it. :) > From her hiding place near the battery, Morgan watches as battle is > joined. Her friends are grossly outnumbered by the ‘bots, who seem > to be appearing faster than the Army of Light can take them out. > Before she can join them, however, she becomes aware of a bigger > threat. While she is taking care of that Fuzzy is showing the bots about a cat underfoot compleate with a blue glowing metal staff, as they go down he stuffs a small shaped charge where it will do the most good, then on to the next bot. When he encounters any dark magics he bashes them good with the Staff. Disrupting them in a flare of conficting energies... > The whine rises above the audible level, and Morgan spares a shred > of concentration to shout through the link, <*Incoming!*> As the > Callahanians dive for cover, the battery explodes in a blinding > flash. Fuzzy Crawled under his last opponent. [snip] > Across from the wreck of the battery, two furry figures detached > from a heap that lay against the wall. Cutter and Leetah nuzzled > each other, then turned their attention to the still unmoving > grey-clad form. First one, then the other, started to whimper, and > their confusion could be felt even without the link. One of the > Callahanians {perhaps if one of you guys was thinking about maybe > going beyond a little flirtatious banter, you could write yourself > in here ;-)} approaches Morgan, gently pressing fingers to the side > of her throat, then slowly sitting back, eyes on the floor. The Army > of Light stood in silence, each in their own way assimilating the > loss. The wolves began to howl, but the sound suddenly cut off. Fuzzy stops looking for spell components, and mumbleing "If her soul hasn't gone too far yet... maybe just maybe" To watch happily as... > The wolves took a step back as the grey form moved, and, groggily, > Morgan sat up. =========================== Date: Wed, 02 Apr 1997 09:53:47 -0500 From: Caprice Subject: ADMIN: Sorry and who is doing what Due to things that have happened (See the RL tragedy post on alt.callahans) it will be a day or more before I would actually have the time to read through my mail from this list, and post responses. Caprice is in there, weilding her sword, cutting a path through the enemy hordes, and occasionally teasing the other Callahans. She'll go back to the bar with the others. Mischief is clinging to Caprice's head, and occasionally fluttering off to bound between ankles and cause confusion among the enemy. She also returns to Callahans. Mayhem continues to grow larger the more distruction that is done. Somehow her lens vanishes during the conflict, and she does not return to Callahans. Sorry about doing it this way, Caprice =========================== Subject: Re: AAE-Morgan's turn Date: Wed, 2 Apr 97 21:19:47 -0000 From: Roland X >Driscoll's post eliminated our main adversary, it looks like we're >into wind-down. So, if I'm going to do this, it's now or never. :-) > >Feel free to add any desired battle adventures into the parts where >there's still someone to fight ;-). > (OOC: Now that you mention it, I never _did_ describe my duel with the Supreme Manhunter...) >Morgan looked over the mechanism. <*This thing has got to be stopped >_now_, or there won't be any of Arcadia left. I think I know how to >do this. Give me a perimeter, friends - I'm not going to have any >concentration to spare on combat.*> Before anyone can stop her, she >steps into the beam. "Morgan?" Roland asks, confused, as another robot becomes scrap metal. >Out of nowhere a Manhunter lands next to her, Roland, but this was pretty much written. Consider the rest of this >to give you just enough time to take him down .> and is suddenly >whisked away, causing her focus to slip. The force of the beam pushes >her back a step. Taking a deep breath, she regains control and >focuses even more of the stolen Arcadian energy back into the control >panel. "Nass!" Roland curses, sword meeting baton. With speed beyond anything human, the Freelance Immortal and the Manhunter trade blows, blocking and parrying faster than most can follow. The Manhunter points at other Callahanians twice; once at a fey (and an iron arrow appears) and the other time at Dhyrclhanc, and a yellow, wooden stake forms. Both times the materialized weapon is reduced to char by pyrokinetic blasts from Roland's 'third eye.' "This is between us, machine!" "I only concern myself with my mission. Your duels mean nothing to me." "You really aren't sentient, are you?" "Self-awareness would interfere with my-" "Shut up," Roland said, plowing into the Manhunter at full speed-and charging his form with every form of energy he can get his mental grasp on... >The smoke cleared in the battery chamber. None of the robots were >standing - apparently they had either been powered by the battery, or >the blast had disrupted their circuitry to the point of shut-down. >Callahanians began picking themselves up, dusting off, checking >themselves and their comrades for injuries. As the psi-web came back >on line, an absence was apparent. Roland shakes his head, regains his bearings, and rises. He looks down at the wreck that was the Manhunter. Scrap metal. *Spot check, everyone-* "Light...Morgan?" >Across from the wreck of the battery, two furry figures detached from >a heap that lay against the wall. Cutter and Leetah nuzzled each >other, then turned their attention to the still unmoving grey-clad >form. First one, then the other, started to whimper, and their >confusion could be felt even without the link. One of the >Callahanians {perhaps if one of you guys was thinking about maybe >going beyond a little flirtatious banter, you could write yourself in >here ;-)} approaches Morgan, gently pressing fingers to the side of >her throat, then slowly sitting back, eyes on the floor. The Army of >Light stood in silence, each in their own way assimilating the loss. >The wolves began to howl, but the sound suddenly cut off. Power crackles around Roland's form. "My kind are made immortal by a field that holds our consciousness together, and restores our bodies even if it is reduced to its component molecules. We call it the Halo." Roland's Halo-much like the legendary 'aura,' but charged with veins of light and darkness-becomes visible around him, and extends towards Morgan. >The wolves took a step back as the grey form moved, and, groggily, >Morgan sat up. Roland stares in shock. His Halo snaps back into place. >"Yes, Morgan." All eyes turn to Titania, standing inside the window, >Oberon at her side and their guard on dragon back hovering outside. > >"You were willing to give yourself to save our land, even though >you're not of the fae. An ally like that is too valuable to loose." >She smiled, and at a wave of her hand a mithril torc glowed at >Morgan's throat. "If you think this too great a gift, consider it as >restoring a balance. One immortal was lost," she indicated Driscoll, >"so another is created." Roland smiles. His Halo returns to its normal state, i.e. invisible and largely undetectable. He sighs in relief. "You folx don't believe _too_ much in last-minute recues around her do you-" A small figure slams into Roland's chest, and Psyche's arms wrap around his neck. Roland blushes. "Touche." >Titania's laugh sparkled through the room. "Well, you _are_ a >Highlander. If you no longer have a neck.... No, don't worry!" She >hurried to reassure Morgan as an unpleasant though sprang to mind. >"That's the only part of the Highlander paradigm we used. There _can_ >be more than one." Roland nods. There's always a price... >"Majesties," her voice was choked with emotion. "There are no >adequate thanks for such a gift. I cannot even offer you >unconditional fealty, for my ties to my Clan supersede any other >loyalties. But I can give this: whenever it doesn't conflict with my >obligations to my kin, my skills and my blade are at your service," >She smiled as a phrase heard many times at Society events came to >mind. "'Til you depart your thrones, death take me or the world end." > > (OOC: If we can have ours! ) *Hah! I feel like I'm attending the award ceremony at the end of Star Wars,* Roland laughs through the psiweb. Psyche cranes her head from her perch on his shoulder, trying to get a better look at Morgan's new 'bauble.' "It's pretty, isn't it, Uncle Roland?" "Sure is-now wait a minute-" Roland sputters as the child laughs and vaults into her mother's arms. "YOU," Oberon says, pointing at the Freelance Immortal, "on the other hand, brought that tower into our realm, alerted that Shadow to our existence, consorted with OUR WIFE, and-" Oberon laughs and lowers his hand as Roland's eyes grow wide. "And saved our daughter and helped save our realm. Calm yourself; we know that none of the harm done here was your doing." Roland sighs in relief. "I wasn't so sure of that myself..." "Your reward is simple." Titania smiles. "You shall always be welcome in the Shining Realm. You all are." "Wow." Roland regains his composure and bows. "My eternal thanks." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE: Getting down to the wire, etc. Date: Wed, 2 Apr 97 21:27:32 -0000 From: Roland X >At 01:31 AM 4/2/97 PST, Dhyrclhanc wrote: > >>> Roland swallows. "That is a _bad_ idea, Dhyrclhanc. Gaunt >>> boasted that it was 'consecrated'-if that's the word-in a >>> slave pit, made from the bones of the sacrificed. IOW, it's >>> charged with _major_ bad karma." >> >>"Eep!" rejoinders the adolecent Ruby Fire Dragon to the Freelance >>Immortal. and the "ivory scimitar" returns to its previous form. "Whew!" >Somewhere in space/time Morgan giggles, picturing a 16' tall >adolecent Ruby Fire Sentinel-Lensdragon saying, "Eep!" :-) LOL! > >>"I'm not gonna go through this whole mess again so that we bring >>back another 'lost lambs.'" he groans, "He everybody, we gotta find >>Lightlord and Stardragon before we can leave!" >> >>(Sigh!) "Well, last _I_ saw Lightlord, he was chatting with my co-located form at the Place. About cats. "He's fine. As for Stardragon, he fought the Adversary. And won. I don't think _anything_ in the Controller's arsenal could harm _him._ "As for you, you overgrown lizard..." Roland smiles. "I owe you one. And besides, Flashes and Green Lanterns have been friends since the beginning. If you ever need me, the ring will know how to find me." >wants to post what adventures _they_ were having as this whole thing >went down. > >Then we can go back to the Place (maybe by way of partying in >Arcadia?) and plot AAE3 :-).> OOC: How about AAE III-The AAE Revenge Squad? I already have an arch-nemesis in Gaunt, Xzerrion is very unpopular with certain Unseelie elements, Driscoll apparently has enough enemies to fill my hard drive with the list, Morgan can't be popular with those who stood to gain with Arcadia's fall, and anyone else who cares to join in can easily add to the list. Be careful what you wish for... (Anyhoo, all this to take place after a well-deserved victory party. Let's rock!) =========================== Date: Wed, 02 Apr 1997 18:34:14 From: "L.J. Wolfe" Subject: She's baaack :-) (was Re: AAE - Sorry....) At 01:37 AM 4/2/97 -0600, KnightShift wrote: > Electromagnet. Works every time. Whatever was on those computer >banks is gone. Wiped clean." > >"*Morgan!* *You* *can't* *go!* *We* *need* *you* *here!* > *No* *one* *said* *you* *could* *leave!* >*Morgan!* *Come* *back* *to* *us* *Morgan!* ... > >He continued this pattern, alternately pleading and demanding Morgan >return to the Land of the Living. Finally, exhausted from the >battles, mental fatigue, and emotional drain, Knytt collapsed >backwards against a tree, half-sitting/half-lying on the ground. >Knytt then whispered "I'm sorry Morgan..." Staring at his Lens on the >left wrist, it shattered and vanished. Mental barriers slammed down >tight as Knytt yanked himself from the group mind. He then turned and >staggered into the woods. Pyewackett, unmerged when their connection >to the Psi-Web crashed, followed Knytt, close, but respectfully so. >He knew mourning when he saw it. > >down the mountain. As far as Knytt knows, Morgan is dead...though I >figure the cheering for joy will be a good clue. ;-)> As the companions of the Army of Light continue their celebrating, telling their respective "No s**t, there I was" stories, it's Morgan's turn to notice an absence in the link. She reaches out. <*Knytt?*> Several of the others fill her in on what happened while she was dead, and she flushes at the images of Knytt desperately trying to revive her. <*I'll meet you folx in Arcadia. I imagine we'll want to go by there before heading back to the Place.*> She takes off down the side of the mountain, Cutter and Leetah bounding ahead. Without the mini-lens the KnightShift is a little harder to track down, but, as she had once reminded him after the Time Lords and Vorlons stripped him of their gifts, they had all grown too close to ever be completely separated. She finally spots him, sitting slumped against a tree at the base of the mountain. Pyewackett looks up at the scent of the approaching wolves, and exhibits a break in his feline reserve at the sight of the Greywolf. She smiles, shakes her head, and presses a finger to her lips. The cat-God resumes his outward composure, and his companion never notices the difference. The wolves reach the KnightShift first, and nuzzle at his hands. He absently scratches their ears, mumbling something to the effect of, "Yeah, I miss her, too." Morgan stands out of his line of sight, watching this. His grief is evident, even without the enhancement of the psi-web. Tears begin forming in the corners of her eyes at the thought that her death could affect someone so deeply. Finally she can stand it no longer. "Knight?" He looks up, shakes his head in an apparent assumption that he's hearing things, and resumes staring at his hands. . . . Only to see one clasped by another hand as he hears, again, "Knight." He looks up in disbelief, into the smiling green eyes of the Greywolf. Morgan /|\ =========================== From: gamer@mail.hvs.com Date: Wed, 2 Apr 1997 22:01:24 -0500 Subject: Aae-Shot in the dark. Richard stands shocked for a moment looking at the fallen head of the Controller, and then at the hundreds of robots flooding the room. Driss had killed a thousand times. Richard, never before now. But his shock did nothing to difuse his common sense. Competent with a rapier against a surprised target a few feet away. Trying it against hundreds of heavily armed ones is suicidal! So he ran for cover. He watched from there as Morgan blew the battery, and felt the power surging back into him after the battery was destroyed, only it was different. The knowledges and speed and dexterity of Driss returned, but the face and physique stayed that of Richard. Confusion over this distracted him for a few moments, thus it was only a momentary leap of his heart into his throat at the sight of the dead form of Morgan before she arose again like a pheonix. Everyone was busy dealing with her and Titania and Oberon, no one noticed Driss slip out a nearby door and down a hallway, to be alone and to think. Much had happened in the past couple days. He came to be a hero, and was turned into a villian again. He came as an immortal, but that too become lost. Now even his appearence had changed. What was Driscoll of Braxton anymore? Who was he? Lost in his thoughts, he never heard the sound of a rifle bolt being pulled back. He never saw the dark figure step out of a doorway behind him. And never heard the shot, until it was too late. Roscoe felt the pain first. Changing into a Cheetah, he followed Driss's fading mind down the hallway. Shapechanging in mid-pounce, several hundred pounds of Hellhound came crashing down on the Exterminator droid, smashing it to bits. [Knightshift! We need...] Roscoe sends frantically as he sees Driss/Richard laying there in a huge pool of his own blood, a fist sized hole torn into the center of his torso. Driss raised a hand to quiet Roscoe. "It's no use. When I drew the power from Chaos earlier, I knew Driss would die tonight. When I changed into this, I thought that was what he meant. I guess... I guess I was wrong. After a thousand years..." he paused to cough up a bubble of blood that splattered in his face, covering it in tiny droplets of blood. "After a thousand years, the rest will do me good. Save my table for me Roscoe. You know I'll be there again soon enough." And with that, Driss coughed again, moaned, and died. Roscoe stood there for what seemed like hours, but was only a minute or two. Then he changed into his humanoid form and walked back out to the Battery room carrying Driss's Rapier. On the way back he sent [nevermind Knightshift. nevermind.] When he returned, there was little he had to say. The others felt the gap in the group mind, and saw the rapier in his hand. Roscoe looked at the rapier, then over at Squee. Then taking a deep breath, "I'm not going back with you. This dimention is my home. And it's Squee's home too. Our village was destroyed. But we can re-build it. And hopefully, word will travel fast though all the worlds, and those who fled will return. And maybe Squee's parents will be among them. I'm not saying I'll never return, in fact I know Driss and I will be back there soon, but right now, there's work to be done." With that, and without another word to anyone, he grabbed the head of the Executioner Driss had disassembed, and walked away down the mountain, with Squee behind him. Eventually, with the help of the dwarves, a momument was erected on the mountainside. It was very simple really. A large boulder with some writing upon it, and the head of the droid pinned to the top of the stone with Driss's Mithril Rapier. The words said this: IN MEMORY OF THE FIRST INVASION OF ARCADIA BY THE CONTROLLER AND OF ALL WHO DIED IN THE DEFENSE OF THEIR HOME. MAY THEY NOT HAVE DIED IN VAIN, NOR THEIR MEMORIES EVER BE FORGOTTEN. In another dimention, a small robot arrives at it's destination, a large laberatory. Removing the black computer console, it presses a series of buttons on the box, and it snaps open, to reveal a brain attached to several electrodes. The robot takes the brain, and moves to a dark form on a table. Placing the brain in an opening, the body immediately makes the needed connections, and seals itself up. A large humanoid robot rises up off the table and the eyes glow red as it looks around its surroundings. The body may be strange, but the voice is very familiar, that of the Controller's. "Did they really think I would not plan for the eventuality of my own death? Arcadia may be safe now that my armies are lost, but I am not without my resources, and the Army of Light shall feel my wrath. Beginning, with Driscoll of Braxton." =========================== Subject: Re: Aae-Shot in the dark. Date: Thu, 3 Apr 97 00:55:50 -0000 From: Roland X Quoth Driscoll: > Confusion over this distracted him for a few moments, thus it was >only a momentary leap of his heart into his throat at the sight of >the dead form of Morgan before she arose again like a pheonix. >Everyone was busy dealing with her and Titania and Oberon, no one >noticed Driss slip out a nearby door and down a hallway, to be alone >and to think. The Sidhe knight who had 'greeted' Roland upon his arrival in Arcadia approached him. Roland was intently examining the helmet of the Manhunter he'd faced, as if trying to divine how the Controller had found one after Oa. "What happened?" the knight asked. Roland smiled. "He lost his head." > Much had happened in the past couple days. He came to be a hero, and >was turned into a villian again. He came as an immortal, but that too >become lost. Now even his appearence had changed. What was Driscoll >of Braxton anymore? Who was he? > Lost in his thoughts, he never heard the sound of a rifle bolt being >pulled back. He never saw the dark figure step out of a doorway >behind him. And never heard the shot, until it was too late. "Does anyone feel...cold?" Roland asked suddenly. > And with that, Driss coughed again, moaned, and died. Roscoe stood >there for what seemed like hours, but was only a minute or two. Then >he changed into his humanoid form and walked back out to the Battery >room carrying Driss's Rapier. On the way back he sent {nevermind >Knightshift. nevermind.] "What..." Roland turned around-and gasped. > When he returned, there was little he had to say. The others felt >the gap in the group mind, and saw the rapier in his hand. Roscoe >looked at the rapier, then over at Squee. Then taking a deep breath, >"I'm not going back with you. This dimention is my home. And it's >Squee's home too. Our village was destroyed. But we can re-build it. >And hopefully, word will travel fast though all the worlds, and those >who fled will return. And maybe Squee's parents will be among them. >I'm not saying I'll never return, in fact I know Driss and I will be >back there soon, but right now, there's work to be done." > With that, and without another word to anyone, he grabbed the head >of the Executioner Driss had disassembed, and walked away down the >mountain, with Squee behind him. "No." Roland stared at the rapier as Roscoe carried it away. "No... "He fought to avenge me. Then he died to save me. I... it's not right. It's-this isn't right. It's not." Roland glared at the Controller's monitor room, his eyes filled with St. Elmo's fire that burned away his tears. "Has anyone ever seen Scanners? Everyone out of that room. Now." A spark jumped from one terminal to another. Then electricity began to arc through the room. Then chain lightning. Raw electromagnetic force. The entire room melted down. "A fitting pyre," Roland said, wiping his eyes, "for a hero." (OOC: Way to bring down a crowd, Dris. ) =========================== Date: Thu, 3 Apr 1997 03:13:59 -0600 From: Michael Jon Knight Subject: Re: She's baaack :-) (was Re: AAE - Sorry....) At 06:34 PM 4/2/97, Morgan wrote: >At 01:37 AM 4/2/97 -0600, KnightShift wrote: >> Electromagnet. Works every time. Whatever was on those computer >>banks is gone. Wiped clean." > >for AAE-III. I'll be interested to see how he deal with this. :-)> >> >>"*Morgan!* *You* *can't* *go!* *We* *need* *you* *here!* >> *No* *one* *said* *you* *could* *leave!* >>*Morgan!* *Come* *back* *to* *us* *Morgan!* ... > > > >Pyewackett looks up at the scent of the approaching wolves, and >exhibits a break in his feline reserve at the sight of the Greywolf. >She smiles, shakes her head, and presses a finger to her lips. The >cat-God resumes his outward composure, and his companion never >notices the difference. *I thought only CATS had nine lives.* Pyewackett sends, purring slightly. >Finally she can stand it no longer. "Knight?" He looks up, shakes his >head in an apparent assumption that he's hearing things, and resumes >staring at his hands. . . . > >Only to see one clasped by another hand as he hears, again, "Knight." >He looks up in disbelief, into the smiling green eyes of the >Greywolf. > > "Morgan? Morgan!" KnightShift says, rising and hugging her. He coughs and regains his composure. "I...uh...how...er...you're alive!" *Master of the obvious*, Pyewackett sends, teasingly. "Well, uh..." KnightShift stammers off, blushing again. Suddenly, the TARDIS roars into existence behind him. KnightSHift looks at it. "I have to go. I still have some loose ends to tie up. I noticed through the link a few events I haven't done yet, but are important to prevent a paradox...you know, can't have the universe go 'boom' now that we've won. I'll see you at the party!" KnightShift waves, scurrying into the TARDIS. Pyewackett looks at him, sends a quick *I'll catch up with you later* then turns to Morgan. *Don't mind him, he is just shy. Cats, however, are not. Scratch my ear. Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrfect... Let's go to the party. I can't dance very well, but I know a great Spanish-Celtic band. Their music is sorta like a salsa, sorta like a reel.* Elsewhere/elsewhen: A haggard old man dug in the Arcadian soil. He dug deep. An Elven Palace guard wandered over to investigate what he was doing. "Nothing, Mi'lord. Digging for roots for my medicines." "That's awful deep for roots..." "Yes, Mi'lord, the best roots grow deep." "What are these two other holes then?" "Uh..." the old man stammered, "...more roots?" "Nevermind...just fill them back in when you are done...And make sure the grass looks undisturbed. This is Royal ground, after all. I don't want to haul an old man before the King for stealing roots." "Yes, mi'lord." The guard walked away, muttering about dirty Menrace and how low-class they were. --------- Medeival Spain, in the village of Toledo, a european man haggled with a local swordsmith over a small dagger of exquisite workmanship. He had a finely woven fishing net full of glass vials with various herbs. --------- Chicago, 1930. In the backroom of a small tailor, a tall man bought a suit and a Tommygun. He paid in gold coins. Enough to ensure the happy tailor an easy ride through WWII. On the way out, he said "Say hello, to 'Big Al' Capone for me." Back in Arcadia... Pyewackett sits with Fuzzy, chatting. "I do not recommend merging minds with a human. It is too small and crowded. And, it is more due to a bond we share anyway. Not as much a technique as it is familiarity. There may be a technique, but I don't know it." KnightShift weaves through a crowd of party goers to Morgan. Loud music and cheering fill the evening air. Even the TARDIS gets into the spirit of things, producing a dazzling light show in the Arcadian sky. "I am sorry for running off like that. I needed to sort things out." Taking Morgan's hand, he looks at her and smiles. "When you set out to destroy the Battery, I panicked, imagining the worst. The worst happened. You've quietly been the center of our little band of adventurers. The one that reminds us who we are and why we do this. We..._I_ couldn't stand the thought of losing that...of losing you. I hope I haven't embarrassed you too badly. I just don't accept loss very well. I consider you a good friend, Morgan. And for me, that is a Rare and Special Thing." As Pyewackett's band starts a new song, the KnightShift rises. Taking Morgan's hand again, he smiles. "Shall we dance?" As Morgan and KnightShift join the crowd around the makeshift bandstand, the KnightShift remarks "You know, I've gotten rather attached to the name 'Knytt'...Its distinct, but not as cumbersome to the tongue." =========================== Date: Thu, 03 Apr 1997 01:23:19 From: "L.J. Wolfe" Subject: Re: Aae-Shot in the dark. At 02:47 AM 4/3/97 -0600, you wrote: >*Don't mind him, he is just shy. Cats, however, are not. Scratch my >ear. Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrfect... Let's go to the party. I can't dance >very well, but I know a great Spanish-Celtic band. Their music is >sorta like a salsa, sorta like a reel.* Morgan looks briefly after the departing TARDIS, then turns to the cat-God. "Sounds interesting. Are...." She stops as she picks up through the link: > lost in his thoughts, he never heard the sound of a rifle bolt being >pulled back. He never saw the dark figure step out of a doorway >behind him. And never heard the shot, until it was too late. Her eyes close, and she says softly, "Oh, Gods, not again." > And with that, Driss coughed again, moaned, and died. Roscoe stood >there for what seemed like hours, but was only a minute or two. Then >he changed into his humanoid form and walked back out to the Battery >room carrying Driss's Rapier. On the way back he sent {nevermind >Knightshift. nevermind.] Morgan has been with them through all this, mentally if not physically. She manages to get a good-bye in to Driss before she feels him slip from the link, then turns her attention to Roscoe. In his head she's being strong and supportive. Outside, she sits quietly with tears running down her cheeks. > When he returned, there was little he had to say. the others felt >the gap in the group mind, and saw the rapier in his hand. Roscoe >looked at the rapier, then over at Squee. Then taking a deep breath, >"I'm not going back with you. This dimention is my home. And it's >Squee's home too. Our village was destroyed. But we can re-build it. >And hopefully, word will travel fast though all the worlds, and those >who fled will return. And maybe Squee's parents will be among them. >I'm not saying I'll never return, in fact I know Driss and I will be >back there soon, but right now, there's work to be done." > With that, and without another word to anyone, he grabbed the head >of the Executioner Driss had disassembed, and walked away down the >mountain, with Squee behind him. Part way down the mountain Morgan meets them. They look into each other's eyes for a few moments, both knowing there's really not much more to be said. They exchange hugs and trade "if you ever need me you know how to find me"s, then Roscoe and Squee head for the village and Morgan slowly bends her steps toward Arcadia. She takes her time - so much has happened so fast, joy, and loss, and all the ramifications of the torc that now graces her throat. Then, again from Knytt: >Back in Arcadia... >KnightShift weaves through a crowd of party goers to Morgan. Loud >music and cheering fill the evening air. Even the TARDIS gets into >the spirit of things, producing a dazzling light show in the Arcadian >sky. Morgan looks up from where she sits off to one side of the merriment, and smiles. Any loss of composure resulting from the emotional roller-coaster she's been on has been soundly dealt with. The only lasting effect is in her eyes - a certain agelessness, colored by the losses already felt, and the realization that, as an immortal, there will be many more. >"I am sorry for running off like that. I needed to sort things out." "Yeah," her hand moves to the still unfamiliar torc, "I know how that can be." >Taking Morgan's hand, he looks at her and smiles. > >"When you set out to destroy the Battery, I panicked, imagining the >worst. The worst happened. You've quietly been the center of our >little band of adventurers. The one that reminds us who we are and >why we do this. We..._I_ couldn't stand the thought of losing >that...of losing you. I hope I haven't embarrassed you too badly. I >just don't accept loss very well. I consider you a good friend, >Morgan. And for me, that is a Rare and Special Thing." At his words about loss, she starts to think of Driss... and quickly shoves those thoughts aside. She smiles and squeezes his hand. "Thank you. You, all of you, have become very special to me, too." >"Shall we dance?" "Sure, why not?" >As Morgan and KnightShift join the crowd around the makeshift >bandstand, the KnightShift remarks "You know, I've gotten rather >attached to the name 'Knytt'...Its distinct, but not as cumbersome to >the tongue." "Yeah, and it won't bring to mind a certain Michael Keaton movie." ;-) Eventually even Arcadian parties wind down. As the Warriors of Light start drifting back to the Place, Morgan hangs back. "Folx, I think I need to hang out here for a while. My life has just taken a major turn, and I'm still not sure what I'm going to do about it. I may pop into the Place now and again to lurk a bit, but hanging around Callahan's doesn't feel right for me just now." She hugs everyone, making it plain that these are _not_ good-bye hugs. Life being what it is, she's sure they'll all be seeing each other again fairly soon. ;-) Morgan /|\ =========================== Date: Thu, 3 Apr 1997 02:04:05 -0800 (PST) From: fuzzy Subject: Party Time On Thu, 3 Apr 1997, Michael Jon Knight wrote: [siiiinp] > Back in Arcadia... > Pyewackett sits with Fuzzy, chatting. > > "I do not recommend merging minds with a human. It is too small and > crowded. And, it is more due to a bond we share anyway. Not as much > a technique as it is familiarity. There may be a technique, but I > don't know it." " I can understand that; Lord, these human minds bother me some-what, I fear looseing myself if they reach to deeply, especially here in arcadia where Cat-Changelings have a few special hazards if they lose their mental balance" " Ohh well, it's not as if I needed the ability anytime soon" [snip] > As Morgan and KnightShift join the crowd around the makeshift > bandstand, the KnightShift remarks "You know, I've gotten rather > attached to the name 'Knytt'...Its distinct, but not as cumbersome > to the tongue." '%Lord do you understand Human Dance?, at least the fae make some sense.%' [snip] > a character sheet for Knytt. (Good idea, Fuzzy.) Besides, Fuzzy and > Caprice (sorta) just got here.> ttfn Fuzzy =========================== Date: Thu, 3 Apr 1997 16:27:58 -0800 (PST) From: Paul Campbell Subject: Re: AAE-Morgan's turn On Wed, 2 Apr 1997, Roland X wrote: >>Morgan looked over the mechanism. <*This thing has got to be >>stopped _now_, or there won't be any of Arcadia left. I think I >>know how to do this. Give me a perimeter, friends - I'm not going >>to have any concentration to spare on combat.*> Before anyone can >>stop her, she steps into the beam. > > "Morgan?" Roland asks, confused, as another robot > becomes scrap metal. < Dammit, I *knew I should have passed this to her while there was still time. I just hope she's strong enough without it ... > Xzerrion fingers his house emblem, remembering it's abilities of increasing magical talents. > "Nass!" Roland curses, sword meeting baton. With speed > beyond anything human, the Freelance Immortal and the > Manhunter trade blows, blocking and parrying faster than > most can follow. The Manhunter points at other Callahanians > twice; once at a fey (and an iron arrow appears) Xzerrion chuckles. `If that arrow was intended for me, machine, it isn't likely to do much good. Wrong fiction.' >>The whine rises above the audible level, and Morgan spares a shred >>of concentration to shout through the link, <*Incoming!*> As the >>Callahanians dive for cover, the battery explodes in a blinding >>flash. The resulting blast shatters Xzerrion's concentration, and the demonic image he had been holding shatters. Two huge robots which intended to take the head off the supposed demon are unable to stop their swings in time to avoid decapitating each other. However, the force of the explosion bounces the drow elf *hard* off the far wall. `Hmm? Roland? Lensdragon? Why are there three of each of you?' >>Across from the wreck of the battery, two furry figures detached >>from a heap that lay against the wall. Cutter and Leetah nuzzled >>each other, then turned their attention to the still unmoving >>grey-clad form. First one, then the other, started to whimper, and >>their confusion could be felt even without the link. One of the >>Callahanians {perhaps if one of you guys was thinking about maybe >>going beyond a little flirtatious banter, you could write yourself >>in here ;-)} approaches Morgan, gently pressing fingers to the side >>of her throat, then slowly sitting back, eyes on the floor. The >>Army of Light stood in silence, each in their own way assimilating >>the loss. The wolves began to howl, but the sound suddenly cut off. Xzerrion just sits back and shakes his head. Having seen the cold-blooded extermination of his family, he had become far too used to tragedy to grieve much over one more loss. Or so he tells himself. > "Your reward is simple." Titania smiles. "You shall > always be welcome in the Shining Realm. You all are." > "Wow." Roland regains his composure and bows. "My > eternal thanks." In what may be a first, Xzerrion drops to one knee before the royal couple. `My thanks as well. What remains of House Ril'lynttar is forever at your service.' =========================== Date: Thu, 3 Apr 1997 19:49:20 -0600 (CST) From: grammarfascist Subject: Re: AAE-Morgan's turn From somewhere far away--telepathic links can only stretch so far--the heros hear an almost-familiar voice say... "Awwwwww." Both the amusement and the pride in that voice are extremely evident. And it can't quite manage to disguise the genuine happy-tears sniffle that follows. "Good job, friends," Silence sends quietly. "Very, very well done." Her words are echoed by a supremely contented purr from Shadow as he curls up on her shoulder, including a slight extra nod toward Pyewackett and Mischief[1]. --Rose, Silence, and Shadow [1] Of course he's flirting. Shadow is _always_ flirting. Her wings are just an added bonus. And where they left footprints in the snow, flowers bloomed. "Find what you want. I will find you." =========================== Date: Fri, 04 Apr 1997 00:27:22 From: "L.J. Wolfe" Subject: Thanks (was Re: Character Sheets....)(Long!) At 01:25 AM 4/4/97 PST, Dhyrclhanc wrote: >P.S.: My sincerest thanks to our Newest Resident Immortal, Lady >Morgan O'Daire, for always beeing there and acting as the, >self-apointed, heart and mind(?) of our CAoL group. Morgan, I still >owe you a drink and a dance, at the very least. Consider me to have been wined and whisked around the dance floor at the party in Arcadia. You're most welcome, and thanks to all of _you_ for the appreciation. Now if only I could meet someone in RL.... :-) Morgan /|\ =========================== Date: Sun, 06 Apr 1997 15:29:42 -0700 From: Gareth L Owen Subject: AAE: The Strangers Perspective L.J. Wolfe wrote: > Feel free to add any desired battle adventures into the parts where > there's still someone to fight ;-). > [OOC: Sorry it's late RL is a busy place and my new computer still aint configured how I want (if your interested I want to get linux onto it and do all my email using elm, whereas I'm forced to use netscape mail at the moment, bleargh)] The Stranger tumbled into the chamber, he'd sheathed his swords and was hacking around him with his dayglo lightsaber, it seemed more effective than the blades against robots. Occasionally he'd level one with a blast of unrestrained chaos energy, but that had unpredictable effects, so he tried not to. > Morgan looked over the mechanism. <*This thing has got to be stopped > _now_, or there won't be any of Arcadia left. I think I know how to > do this. Give me a perimeter, friends - I'm not going to have any > concentration to spare on combat.*> Before anyone can stop her, she > steps into the beam. The Stranger closed in on her, hacking down anything between them, moving in to form her perimeter. Looking up he saw the Manhunter arcing towards her, he raised his hand and a DeLameter started to coalesce in it, but at that second a voice behind him made him turn. It was Gruber. "Hello Stranger, are you ready to cease to be?" He stood with a sword in one hand and a small sack in the other. "Hmmph. What's in the bag, Gruber?" Gruber shifted his grip slightly and the sack fell away, exposing the severed head of a gorgon, with snakes for hair. The Stranger cursed and shut his eyes, lashing out literally blindly with the lightsaber. He retreated, dodging the swishing of Grubers blows and lashing out in the hope of landing a lucky strike. "Give it up Stranger, just open your eyes and end it all." The Stranger fell back, thinking desperately, how could he fight blind? He could still hear though, he could hear the swishing of Grubers blade and stood some chance of avoiding it. He could hear the hissing of the snakes. He could hear a fearsome release of energy, dammit, he needed to end this. The snakes. That was it. He dropped the lightsaber and lunged, executing a perfect iajutsu draw of his ninjato, aiming for the sound of the snakes. The blade sliced cleanly through flesh. Gruber screamed. The Stranger opened his eyes. The gorgon head was bouncing away, with Grubers hand still attached. The Stranger dropped his blade and stepped under Grubers guard, deflecting his sword wrist. Gruber struck out with his stump for The Strangers eyes, blood spurted into his face, almost blinding him again. "Time to die Gruber!" "Do you no good, I'll be back!" Standing face to face The Stranger delivered a lightning fast series of blows, forearm smashes to the neck, knee strikes to the groin and stomach. Gruber reeled, weak from the punishment he'd taken. The Stranger grabbed his collar and drew back with his other hand, putting all his strength and fury into a heel of the hand strike to Gruber's nose. There was a sick snapping noise and Gruber fell, limp. The Stranger turned and left him. > The whine rises above the audible level, and Morgan spares a shred > of concentration to shout through the link, <*Incoming!*> As the > Callahanians dive for cover, the battery explodes in a blinding > flash. "Oh shit" The blast caught the Stranger and threw him across the room, he twisted, riding it and focussing on the chaos energy still ambient, he hoped this was gonna work. > The smoke cleared in the battery chamber. None of the robots were > standing - apparently they had either been powered by the battery, > or the blast had disrupted their circuitry to the point of > shut-down. Callahanians began picking themselves up, dusting off, > checking themselves and their comrades for injuries. As the psi-web > came back on line, an absence was apparent. The Stranger heaved himself out of the wall, made no longer of brick but of marshmallow. > Across from the wreck of the battery, two furry figures detached > from a heap that lay against the wall. Cutter and Leetah nuzzled > each other, then turned their attention to the still unmoving > grey-clad form. First one, then the other, started to whimper, and > their confusion could be felt even without the link. One of the > Callahanians {perhaps if one of you guys was thinking about maybe > going beyond a little flirtatious banter, you could write yourself > in here ;-)} approaches Morgan, gently pressing fingers to the side > of her throat, then slowly sitting back, eyes on the floor. The Army > of Light stood in silence, each in their own way assimilating the > loss. The wolves began to howl, but the sound suddenly cut off. "Aw heck no!" > "Majesties," her voice was choked with emotion. "There are no > adequate thanks for such a gift. I cannot even offer you > unconditional fealty, for my ties to my Clan supersede any other > loyalties. But I can give this: whenever it doesn't conflict with my > obligations to my kin, my skills and my blade are at your service," > She smiled as a phrase heard many times at Society events came to > mind. "'Til you depart your thrones, death take me or the world > end." > > [OOC: Hey, whatever, this is meant to be fun!] The Stranger, still garbed as a knight retires slightly, watching the proceedings. **** At the party The Stranger watched for a while and then sought out Morgan. He was now dressed in a dinner jacket and white bow tie. "Milady, you have been given a gift and a curse, which is, I guess, the way of the Fae. You are not like normal people anymore, still, you are not exactly alone as I was for so long, take it easy and remember you can always choose to be mortal." Looking up they saw the Knightshift moving through the crowd and when Morgan looked back, the Stranger was gone. Back at the edge of the party the Stranger nursed a drink and watched, when he heard a voice behind him. "Why so glum, milord?" He turned and faced an elven princess with long golden hair and laughing eyes. He shook his head "It's not for me. The eter.." The interrupted him "Oh tish! Dance with me and be happy." They danced, and for a while the Stranger was happy, and for a while he forgot. **** > Eventually, with the help of the dwarves, a momument was erected on >the mountainside. it was very simple really. A large boulder with >some writing upon it, and the head of hte droid pinned to the top of >the stone with Driss's Mithril Rapier. The words said this: > >IN MEMORY OF THE FIRST INVASION OF ARCADIA BY THE CONTROLLER >AND OF ALL WHO DIED IN THE DEFENSE OF THEIR HOME. >MAY THEY NOT HAVE DIED IN VAIN, NOR THEIR MEMORIES EVER BE FORGOTTEN. Months later, in that pale time between night and day, a figure appears from the forest, it wears a long dark coat and a broad brimmed hat. It carries a wreath which it lays beneath the memorial. "Here's to you, Driscoll. We never really knew each other, but you carried the same burden as I, and you fought for what you believed in. I hope you find peace." The figure turned, and was gone. The Stranger =========================== Fin