Action, Adventure, Excitement, Part 9: Middle Earth / High Fantasy Chapter 4 Subject: AAE 9m: The Last Debate On Sat, 07 Aug 2004 00:26:03 -0700 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012202 In a meeting room, Roland sits alone at the head of a long oval table, his body seemingly shrunken in a large, impressive chair as he stares into space, hands steepled in front of him, eyes alive but distant. The Phoenix Claw, resting in its enchanted sheath, lies on the table before him. For a moment, he looks as if some enormous weight is on his shoulders. A few seconds later, he straightens, some difficult decision made. Without leaving the chair, he gestures at a rack holding tubes, three of which open. Parchments fly out, unrolling across the table to display exquisitely-drawn maps. He leans forward, 'coronet' glinting in the candlelight, to look them over intently. One hand takes his chin lightly between thumb and forefinger as the defender plans. "The role suits you, you know," Morgan quips as she enters the room. He looks up, briefly puzzled but relaxing and smiling at the sight of his love. "The whole King of Gondor thing. You look...regal." The druidess returns his smile. Roland's smile fades somewhat. "I..." he taps the table idly. "I am uncomfortable with monarchies," he explains slowly. "I may not show it often, but I love my country, the ideal it stands for, even if the reality falls short too often." After a pause, he continues. "And while I think I've made my peace with my role as leader of the Champions, and to a lesser extent the Army of Light, I have never been entirely satisfied with myself as a leader. The combination is...unsettling." "Well, _presidential_ then, if you lose the crown," Morgan replies lightly. Roland blinks, then laughs, stands, and squeezes her shoulders gently, kissing her briefly. "My practical beloved." He sighs. "I just wish the reality wasn't being so..._insistent,_" he explains, fingering a point on the crowned helm, though his good humor has returned. "And where have _you_ been?" he asks, wagging his finger in mock-serious (actually, downright silly) accusation. "Helping the realm's newest citizen arrive," she grins broadly. "Life goes on, even during times of war." Roland laughs and kisses her again. "L'Chiam!" bursts out of him. (OOC: That's Yiddish for "to life!" for anyone who didn't know. 8^) "Nass, I wish I had a drink so I could toast the happy parents!" Morgan thinks a moment, then holds up her hands. Two wooden cups appear, filled with mead. "Slainte!" She smiles, handing him a cup. "And ye'r changing the subject." He touches his cup to hers and drinks. "Well, I'm going to change the subject again for a moment -- this isn't living wood. I'm impressed." Roland drinks. He puts the cup down on the table, then stares at the maps again. "At least this realm plays fair. There's an...insight that comes with this role. I think I see what Sauron is doing." He taps the map of Britain along the eastern shore. "They've retreated to Essex County, so the invasion's stalled here. He could advance into Russia, but the Gaunt Man's got his stronghold there. The swashbucklers are to the south, west there's nothing but ocean, and north there's nothing but ice. Sauron _wants_ Britain, I'm sure of it. He must sense his cosm's connection to this island somehow. He's going to need more resources now, though. To, me, the choice is obvious. There's more possibility energy to be had in heavily-populated Germany and Poland, and the Gaunt Man is a much greater threat than this 'Caligari.'" He turns to the larger map of Northern Europe. "He doesn't have the overwhelming numerical advantage he did in his own universe, but he does have the reality storm advantage." He raps the center of Germany. "If he sets up Saruman in Germany, he can thrust into the heart of Caligari's empire, with enough soldiers and access to Saruman's clanking wizard-science to make a real mess. Still..." he pulls over the third map, this one of southern Norway and Sweden. "...I think we can use this to our advantage. We have to strike at the heart of Sauron's power, just as Aragorn did -- but we can't do it in the _manner_ Aragorn did it." Returning to the second map, he traces a route through western Russia with his fingers, into Poland, then Germany. "Denmark is probably too much of a bottleneck, plus Sauron's never had much luck with sea-based invasions. So Sauron's probably sent an invasion force here, near the border between Finland and Russia," he explained, tapping the area he mentioned. "By making it look like we're going to try to resist him there, We can probably force him to send reinforcements. Since he'll want to drop a stelae first, we can also keep some of his special forces busy there." Returning to the third map, he continued. "Then, we can make it look like we're going to invade here, on the southwest border of Norway." "That will require devoting a number of forces to both efforts," Sir Hoon cut in, as he and several advisors entered. (OOC: This would be a good point for others to come in and start offering their two bits worth, if they want. 8^) Roland nods. "I know. I'm asking a lot. But I think it's worth the risks. If I may explain?" "This," he continues, pointing out an area in the heart of southern Norway, "is Glittertinden. It trades places with a nearby mountain as the highest peak in Scandinavia, depending on how much ice has built up on the peak. It's grown again, thanks to the chill brought on by Sauron's presence there. He's built a tower to rival Minas Morgul itself." Roland's fist trembles and his voice quavers. "Glittertinden was a Changeling stronghold, rich in magic. I haven't heard what happened to the Fair Folk who lived there, but I can guess." He shakes his head, clearing it quickly. "He'll realize that the Finland/Russia defense is a feint, and hopefully send a large portion of his remaining forces to this area," he gestures at an area labeled Sogn og Fjordane, "where we can send a decoy force up this waterway." "That's the Sognefjord," Morgan explains. "The longest fjord, leading to the highest mountains...some of the Changelings in Ireland were refugees from that area," Morgan adds at the quizzical looks. Roland nods. "Exactly. It'll look like we're making an end run right up his major strategic weakness. The Enemy will have to bolster the defenses he has along the fjord." Prince William nodded, deep in thought, looking down at the map. Then he looked up at Roland. "Once you divide his forces, though, what's your _real_ strike?" The young Eternal grins dangerously. "I gather my friends, we teleport straight to Glittertinden, and knock on the door. Hard." A general's eyes bulge. "That's a suicide mission! Even if you can get _in_ to this...Minas Morgul redux, how will you defeat Sauron? To the best of my knowledge, there is no convenient Mount Doom to throw this black crown into!" Roland frowns. "There's a riddle. 'You must defeat the Crown to destroy Sauron, and you must destroy Sauron to defeat the Crown.'" "Rather circular," Gandalf says with a faint chuckle, unnoticed until then. Another general, recovering from the startlement, turns back to Roland, eyes narrowed. "Where are you getting all of your information, anyway? Your Lady's intelligence had an obvious origin, but yours seems rather cryptic." Roland gestures at the door. "Sauron is not the first to wear the Crown." Lady Ardinay, looking a touch more pale than usual, stands framed in the opening. "I can only glean so much information, but my link to the accursed thing remains. I may as well use it." "So. We send forces to eastern Finland and western Norway. Once the Eye's attention is divided, my team strikes." Roland sits. "Any questions?" OOC: And knowing this bunch, there are several. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9m: Aftermath On Sun, 08 Aug 2004 05:04:40 -0700 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012205 >On Fri, 6 Aug 2004 17:43:24 -0700 (PDT) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012198 >>On Fri, 06 Aug 2004 13:33:45 -0700 >>Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012195 >> >>*I meant not to embarrass thee, Milady. Consider it spinal-reflex >>gallantry, an thou wouldst: I see a beautiful woman, I compliment >>her...no real thought involved.* > > *Lord Harlock, there is always thought involved in a compliment, >by which I thank thee. But if a man can have his gallantry, cannot a >lady have her modesty? But fear not, I found it pleasing to lighten >your aspect, even if 'twere but for a moment alone.* *Forgive me, Milady, but I am weary and wit-wandering. Seeing thee shaken from thy eternal aplomb made me wonder if perhaps I had spoken out of turn.* >>"Ah'm no Lady," says Erin, and continues under her breath, "not that >>Ah haven't had offahs." She raises her voice once more. "Just call >>me Erin. As for Marivale, Ah really don't know. Evahbody in mah room >>was too worried abaht me to tell me how he was doin'...not that Ah >>asked. Geoffery would be the one to ask, if you see him." > > "Well... Erin, I am certain you are not a man, Erindrea's only comment is a slight broadening of her grin. >but if you prefer to go without formal titles, I shall strive to >follow your wishes in the matter. I shall certainly seek out Geoffery >- I would rather not leave another of our party in need unanswered." Erin sighs. "It's not that Ah _object_ to tahtles. It's just that the nobles of mah homeland ah almahty touchy abaht them, as a rule. Marivale puts up with mah infohmality because he knows ah'd frah him if he pushed me too hahd; and he accepts it from Veren because he's too bigoted to realahze how smaht Veren is, so he doesn't expect any bettah from an 'inhuman savage.' But even though he maht tease me abaht a roll in the hay, he knows Ah'm not fully human, so he would nevah, _evah_ even considah anything fohmal. And he's one of the _bettah_ ones. So Ah trah to avohd usin' tahtles at all." > Just then, a tall man with a staff and long beard emerges from a >turn directly in front of them. Erin feels Zia stiffen slightly, but >the old man merely looks in her eyes, chuckles once, and passes by >without a word. Zia looks strangely nonplussed by this brief event. "Someone you know?" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9m: The Last Debate On Sun, 08 Aug 2004 05:15:03 -0700 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012206 >On Sat, 07 Aug 2004 00:26:03 -0700 >Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012202 > > Prince William nodded, deep in thought, looking down at the map. >Then he looked up at Roland. "Once you divide his forces, though, >what's your _real_ strike?" > The young Eternal grins dangerously. "I gather my friends, we >teleport straight to Glittertinden, and knock on the door. Hard." "A point of order, Milord," says Marivale, still pale, but looking far more energetic than he has a right to be. "Should this Sauron fellow _not_ see us with the diversionary forces, would he not go to some pains to establish our whereabouts? And as a secondary point, if we _are_ with the diversionary forces prior to the teleport, who will defend those forces from Sauron's elite troops when we depart?" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9m: The Last Debate On Tue, 14 Sep 2004 20:29:07 -0700 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012222 OOC: The Last Recap -- Roland has a plan (doesn't he always?), in which the forces of Light will pull a double-feint on Sauron, striking at his advance forces on the Finnish/Russian border, then sending an army up the Sognefjord in an apparent run at his main power -- both of which will (hopefully) draw off his forces so Our Heroes will only have to face the Elite and a reserve garrison when they challenge him at the heart of his power. >On Sun, 08 Aug 2004 05:15:03 -0700 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012206 >>On Sat, 07 Aug 2004 00:26:03 -0700 >>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012202 >> >> Prince William nodded, deep in thought, looking down at the map. >>Then he looked up at Roland. "Once you divide his forces, though, >>what's your _real_ strike?" >> The young Eternal grins dangerously. "I gather my friends, we >>teleport straight to Glittertinden, and knock on the door. Hard." > >"A point of order, Milord," says Marivale, still pale, but looking >far more energetic than he has a right to be. "Should this Sauron >fellow _not_ see us with the diversionary forces, would he not go to >some pains to establish our whereabouts? Roland nods. "Indeed he will. That is why Lady Ardinay will be remaining behind." He gestures at the pale (yet still exquisite) woman framed in the doorway. Her eyes widen and she raises a finger, ready to object, when Roland continues, rolling right over her, metaphorically speaking anyway. "Others may have some chance of blinding the Eye, but you are our only hope of blocking the Crown. Besides, we are going to need Gandalf." Lady Ardinay sighs, lowering her arm. "You are too polite to note my condition, I see." Roland grins weakly. "Hardly, Great Lady. I simply held it in reserve." Morgan looks thoughtful. "But if Sauron _doesn't_ see us with either the mainland force or the 'sneak in the back way' force, won't he assume we have something else in mind and make sure his base is well defended, that being a likely objective?" Roland sighs and nods again. "It is a risk, I admit. The entire plan is fraught with risk. Nevertheless, I feel that the overall risk is minimized as best as it can be. There are several stelae that we could be targeting, we might intend to push Sauron out of Britain entirely, we could be hiding in one of the assault forces...he will suspect any number of deceptions. Sauron understands courage intellectually but not emotionally. He will plan for a direct assault but not expect it." "Then perhaps another diversion or two would be in order," Morgan comments, leaning over the maps. "We could ask the local Awakened to have a go at _this_ stelae." She points to a spot in Somerset. Roland leans over, blinks, and laughs. "Glastonbury Tor?" At her grin, he kisses her on the cheek. "You, my love, are a genius." After a pause, Morgan adds, "If there are enough willing an' able, they could go after this one in Scotland, too." Roland gazes thoughtfully at the map. "Hm. That might be one too many. If it becomes too obvious that we are trying to keep the Eye's attention split, the Enemy may suspect a direct assault more." "Then make one, or both, look like an attack of opportunity." She chuckles. "Hell, knowin' the Scottish, we may have trouble _keepin'_ 'em from tryin'." Roland smiles and nods. "The Glastonbury strike is more believable as direct coordination anyway. Besides, even if the main assault fails, we can free half -- or all -- of Britain, a major victory either way." "May I note," Sir Hoon replies calmly, "that I pray never to meet the pair of you on opposite sides of the field of battle?" Roland laughs, clapping Sir Hoon on the back. "High praise indeed, milord." The laughter and smile vanish within moments. "Make no mistake, my friends, whatever cleverness we bring to this adventure, those who go to face Sauron will confront the greatest danger of all, a power beyond reckoning, and a riddle I only have the faintest guess regarding a solution. Those whose capabilities or injuries preclude journeying to Glittertinden can serve elsewhere, whether here or with one of the other forces. No questions will be asked, and any who impugn your courage or honor will answer to me." (pause) "Are there any further questions?" (pause II -- the sequel) Once all other loose ends are tied up and left as sacrifices to dragons, Roland thumps his hands on the table with a nod and girds on his weaponry. "Let us begin, then. There is much to do, and the sooner it is done, the better. We will need gateways opened to Finland, and it would not go amiss to make a few troop transport planes reality-functional. Those regular forces travelling to Norway must be equipped and provided appropriate craft, which must needs be swift. Morgan, I will need you to contact those allies made in Erin during your stay there. Harlock, your wizardry in particular will be most beneficial, wherever you choose to wield it. Your companions..." he glances briefly at Marivale. "...I leave to their judgement, but recommend that the wounded remain to heal. Moonstone, your abilities are well suited to a variety of tasks, but wherever you choose to go, I suspect they will best be used to provide aerial support and cover. Rogias..." he considers. "...would best likely remain to heal as well. As if I could stop him should he choose to come," Roland adds in a mutter. [And Zia...appears where she pleases,] he thinks to himself with a mental grin. "I want those units on their way north five minutes ago. Gandalf, gather as many wielders of magic as you can herd together to open gateways or enchant vessels. The Russian defenders will wait on the Finnish border while the naval force moves up the Sognefjord, I want both units moving in two hours and in enemy territory in four. Those coming with me to Glittertinden are to meet on the field outside Minas London in five. It should be sunset there by then." He nods to those present. "Get some sleep if you can." With that, he strides out. *** Roland felt a bit guilty resting while so many others worked. Naturally, he helped with teleportals when they were gating forces out at the heaviest rate. With everyone working together, they had even managed to send a small fleet of ships out as a vanguard for the larger force. Still, while he hadn't been smacked around as thoroughly as some of the others, fighting Wotan and Uthorion in rapid succession, with some Nazgul thrown in for bad measure, had been draining on the leader. Morgan had provided him some energy already, but as she had reminded him, "all the magic in the world canna replace good honest sleep." Well, Roland hoped some good honest rest would suffice, since sleep was not coming easily or well. People would die this day. People he sent into battle would be killed. They would also kill. Gandalf's words of advice were small comfort, but better than none at all. As it was, he had a larger problem on his mind. The Obsidian Crown of Drakacanus. It was now the source of Sauron's power, as it had been Uthorion's. Pella, Light bless her, had done her best, but could only offer that she thought magic was somehow important. And, of course, the riddle. [A riddle. How appropriate for this realm,] Roland mused. ['Defeat the Crown to destroy Sauron, and destroy Sauron to defeat the Crown.' Nasty bit of tautology, that. Wholly aside from my unwillingness to 'destroy' anything sentient, I do not see any way through it, even discounting that I haven't the faintest idea how to 'defeat the Crown' in any sort of--] A light literally glowed above his head. The interiors of his crown's wings glowed, creating an almost divine-seeming shaft from the ceiling to his head. [There are all manner of ways to 'defeat' something, though, aren't there?] Roland rubbed his palms together and slumped from his sitting position to a deep lean. [So all we need to figure out is the method of defeating the Crown that will open up Sauron's flank...] That dilemma solved for the moment, without realizing it, Roland began to snore gently. * The descending sun casts Minas London in a brilliant halo of gold and red, as if Gryffindor had decorated the western walls with witchlight. In the field, Roland stands regally, left hand resting on Gryphoenix's feathery mane. Morgan is at his right hand, a lively Brightwind prancing nearby in anticipation. Gandalf rides up on Shadowfax, a curious smile on his face, as the rest of the force gathers. "Are you ready, my lord Roland?" "No," Roland replies quietly, eliciting a chuckle from the ancient wizard, "but that has never stopped me before," he adds with more strength. Tolwyn rides up as well, greeted by a puzzled look from the young immortal. (Though it bears noting that he is no longer young by mortal standards.) "I would have expected you to remain by Pella's side, old friend." "Were your situation less dire, I would be," Tolwyn admits, patting her magnificent steed on the neck. "Yet I can hardly imagine she could be safer than in yon magnificent city, whether I be with her or no, and I suspect I can make a true difference at your side." She smiles darkly. "An' beside, Uthorion has a body of mortal flesh now. No dragon hide to save him from Battlestar any longer. His nightmares have long told him I would be his end. I would aid you and make those dreams a reality in one...stroke." She fingers her hilt intently. Roland smiles, succumbing briefly to his own reality's thoughts and giving her a 'thumbs up.' "I am grateful for the help." Looking over those who have arrived, he draws his blade and holds it aloft. "Well met, my friends! Ride now! Where Theoden did cry, 'ride for ruin,' I say, 'ride for hope!' Where the Rohirrim fought for the world's ending, I tell you instead to fight for its _deliverance!_ AN APAIR !" (Translation: "TO/FOR VICTORY!" The gate opens. They ride. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9m: Aftermath On Wed, 15 Sep 2004 18:29:55 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012223 >Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012205 >>Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012198 >> >> Just then, a tall man with a staff and long beard emerges from a >>turn directly in front of them. Erin feels Zia stiffen slightly, but >>the old man merely looks in her eyes, chuckles once, and passes by >>without a word. Zia looks strangely nonplussed by this brief event. > >"Someone you know?" Zia starts slightly, then she half-grimaces. "No, but he resembles a certain relation of mine strongly. Startled me for a moment." She pauses as if listening to something else. "We'd best get you to the healers; Roland's formulated his plan." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9m: The Last Debate On Mon, 27 Sep 2004 21:51:13 -0700 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012227 >On Tue, 14 Sep 2004 20:29:07 -0700 >Morgan and Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012222 > >"Morgan, I will need you to contact those allies made in Erin during >your stay there. Harlock looks startled. [Allies in Erin? Did that wraith do aught e'en stranger than I knew?] >Harlock, your wizardry in particular will be most beneficial, >wherever you choose to wield it. The Bard merely nods. >Your companions..." he glances briefly at Marivale. "...I leave to >their judgement, but recommend that the wounded remain to heal." Marivale sniffs disdainfully. Erindrea is not present to comment. > "I want those units on their way north five minutes ago. Gandalf, >gather as many wielders of magic as you can herd together to open >gateways or enchant vessels. The Russian defenders will wait on the >Finnish border while the naval force moves up the Sognefjord, I want >both units moving in two hours and in enemy territory in four. Those >coming with me to Glittertinden are to meet on the field outside >Minas London in five. It should be sunset there by then." He nods to >those present. "Get some sleep if you can." With that, he strides >out. Harlock follows Gandalf out to help build teleport gates. Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to need gestures for this particular spell, simply whistling a melancholy tune with a Russian feel to it. The more musically inclined folks will probably recognize it and realize why he isn't singing the lyrics: "Far From the Home I Love" is meant to be sung by a female, after all. > Roland smiles, succumbing briefly to his own reality's thoughts >and giving her a 'thumbs up.' "I am grateful for the help." Looking >over those who have arrived, he draws his blade and holds it aloft. >"Well met, my friends! Ride now! Where Theoden did cry, 'ride for >ruin,' I say, 'ride for hope!' Where the Rohirrim fought for the >world's ending, I tell you instead to fight for its _deliverance!_ AN >APAIR !" (Translation: "TO/FOR VICTORY!" > The gate opens. They ride. Or at least most of them ride. Marivale and Geoffery run alongside, somehow keeping pace with the galloping warhorses. Harlock, riding Windrider, seems to be paying _very_ little attention to what Windrider is doing. In fact, his eyes are closed as he gestures and whispers a series of eldritch words. A spell of...not invisibility as such, but misleading scrying attempts. Everything within a 400 yard radius of The Bard appears to scrying as a thick forest, impossible to ride through. Well, almost everything. A perfectly circular forest would look rather suspicious, after all... =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9m: The Last Debate On Wed, 6 Oct 2004 19:42:18 -0400 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00012228 >> Roland smiles, succumbing briefly to his own reality's thoughts >>and giving her a 'thumbs up.' "I am grateful for the help." Looking >>over those who have arrived, he draws his blade and holds it aloft. >>"Well met, my friends! Ride now! Where Theoden did cry, 'ride for >>ruin,' I say, 'ride for hope!' Where the Rohirrim fought for the >>world's ending, I tell you instead to fight for its _deliverance!_ >>AN APAIR !" (Translation: "TO/FOR VICTORY!" >> The gate opens. They ride. Perhaps twenty minutes later, Rogias wanders into the now-empty conference room (having ducked out of the medical wing), and looks around with a mildly plaintive expression. "Was it perhaps something I said?" Looking wan but determined, he toddles out again, in search of his horse, his borrowed Host, and a stiff cup of restorative tea, not necessarily in that order... =========================== Subject: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Mon, 08 Nov 2004 19:33:26 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012242 Prologue: Uthorion strides through corridors of black stone, his mood darker than his surroundings. [An uruk-hai. A ONE-ARMED uruk-hai.] To call his current shell a step down would be an understatement. For years, he had been a dragon -- no, more than simply a dragon, a _draconis_teutonica,_ a creature of vast power, raw strength, and the chill of the grave. [I thought the Phoenix boy was bad -- but his woman--! They will pay dearly for this. Oh yes.] He looks at where the orc-thing's arm had been. To be fair, the replacement Saruman had crafted, now powered by Uthorion's own magic as well as the Ringwraith's, is impressive. Nearly as menacing as a Ringwraith's gauntlet, it is far stronger and has unpleasant surprises enchanted within. Still, the former High Lord looks on the Olog-Hai greedily. [Not dragons, but still tremendously strong, regenerative, and their fingers are dexterous enough that I need not sacrifice any magic.] Horns blow far closer than Uthorion would like. "What?! NO! Even Blaze would not -- even _he_ would not _dare_ to...!" Rushing past stunned orcs and goblins and practically vaulting onto a battlement, Uthorion looks out onto the vast fields atop Glittertinden. A hole in space yawns wide before the gates of the great fortress. With a ferocious cry, Roland and Gryphoenix burst through, followed by a small army of heroes. "Guess he would," a goblin retorts with a snarl. Uthorion crushes the creature's skull with a casual gesture, then turns on his heel and strides towards a stairway that will lead him to the battle. [Why wasn't Sauron prepared, curse him! This could ruin all!] Suddenly, the hideous face breaks into an equally hideous grin. [Ruin all for _Sauron,_ that is...] Part One: The Black Gate Opens "Hard and fast, team, don't give them time to think!" Roland roars, sword pointed levelly at the gate as the greatest heroes of several worlds attack. With that and a nudge of encouragement, he charges directly at the enormous double doors. The knight-champion focuses, gathering all his power... ...then reins Gryphoenix in suddenly. [What the devil?!] Concentrating, the hero is deeply disturbed to find that his energies are at less than a quarter his usual levels. [I know I felt strange during the transport, but...oh no.] A flicker of concentration confirms his sudden hunch. [Blaze, you idiot, play with Mobius on your own time!] ^Oh, re_lax,_ 'Rolessar.' You get bennies from the realm to make up for the power loss. Try it.^ [I hate you.] With that uncharitable thought, he focuses all his power on the Phoenix Claw and resumes his charge. Scattered resistance falls before his power, his intimidating presence, or Gryphoenix. With one mighty swing, he slashes at the door as he reaches it, pivoting at full speed. The Claw rips through the door as if it were paper, and it collapses. Morgan, who was cutting down uruk-hai too slow to evade the length of Aramegil, stops briefly at the sight. "Whoa." Rolessar smiles grimly as he assesses his handiwork. "Benefits, indeed." Gryphoenix rears, and both hero and steed are framed in the archway as he raises his blade. "Sauron's tyranny ends TODAY!" "You presume too much," a rich, deep voice replies resonantly from the shadows beyond. The now-familiar screech of Ringwraith steeds tears through the battlefield as eight of the undead monsters explode out from the tower. The ninth, Saruman, glides regally forward as Rolessar pulls Gryphoenix back. Following the Black Wizard are a phalanx of the super-trolls Uthorion had lusted after, and behind them, a terrible red glow. "By the Source," Rolessar breathes. As the olog-hai charge and Saruman wheels his wyvern confidently into the air, a Balrog steps into the archway, whip in one hand and sword in the other. It looks at the heroes and roars. Then, behind him, another red glow begins to move forward. This one is smaller, but given that, it should not be visible past the demon-thing at all. Grimly, Rolessar grips his blade and prepares to do battle. [Well, Phoenix, you wanted to force a confrontation...] =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Thu, 11 Nov 2004 15:48:38 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012246 >On Mon, 08 Nov 2004 19:33:26 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012242 > > Rolessar smiles grimly as he assesses his handiwork. "Benefits, >indeed." Gryphoenix rears, and both hero and steed are framed in the >archway as he raises his blade. "Sauron's tyranny ends TODAY!" > "You presume too much," a rich, deep voice replies resonantly from >the shadows beyond. "Indeed," quips Harlock, "'tis written into the Standard Hero Contract. There are standards to maintain, after all." > The now-familiar screech of Ringwraith steeds tears through the >battlefield as eight of the undead monsters explode out from the >tower. The ninth, Saruman, glides regally forward as Rolessar pulls >Gryphoenix back. Following the Black Wizard are a phalanx of the >super-trolls Uthorion had lusted after, and behind them, a terrible >red glow. [Methinks the standard Slow spell is a bit too obvious to pass, but an I modify it a bit...] The Bard starts humming softly, focusing his will on the Olog-hai in the rear. The trolls don't slow down noticably, but their reflexes have (hopefully) been dulled, and their hand-eye coordination is no longer what it was. > "By the Source," Rolessar breathes. > As the olog-hai charge and Saruman wheels his wyvern confidently >into the air, a Balrog steps into the archway, whip in one hand and >sword in the other. It looks at the heroes and roars. Marivale smiles savagely. His rapier crackles with heatless blue flames once more. A closer look reveals fog streaming off the blade before it dissipates in the heat of the hall. "I call the hell-spawn," he says as he advances confidently toward the Balrog, sword and dagger ready to parry. (OOC: Hmm...1d6 cold (+ an additional 1d10 cold on a crit) +2d6 holy +5d6 +14 per hit. Think that'll leave a mark? ^_^) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 21:32:23 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012256 >On Thu, 11 Nov 2004 15:48:38 -0800 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012246 > >"Indeed," quips Harlock, "'tis written into the Standard Hero >Contract. There are standards to maintain, after all." Rolessar glances over his shoulder at the bard, and begins to say something. Then he stops, returning his attention to the battle. [An' it were not him, it would be Driscoll, or Ziactrice, or Gods help me, ROGER. Why the Source deems it necessary to...'bless' me with such companions I know not, but it is my fate.] >Marivale smiles savagely. His rapier crackles with heatless blue >flames once more. A closer look reveals fog streaming off the blade >before it dissipates in the heat of the hall. "I call the >hell-spawn," he says as he advances confidently toward the Balrog, >sword and dagger ready to parry. "Not hell-spawn, but an older thing of the world," Rolessar explains, but gestures for Marivale to do what he does so well. Watching Tolwyn spot Uthorion and charge toward him with a fierce battle cry on her lips and Gandalf square off with Saruman, he refocuses on the incoming crimson glow marching out of the darkness of the hallway beyond. Even a Roland resonating to the archetype of Aragorn gasps in shock. From the neck down, it is Sauron as he was when facing the Last Alliance -- an epic and fearsome foe clad in black mail, wielding some terrible mace of power. The Obsidian Crown squats between the shoulders of this mockery of life, however, and hovering within and above the Crown...is the terrible Eye of flame, the hateful gaze of the Enemy himself. Recovering his presence of mind, Rolessar hefts the Phoenix Claw and flows into a ready stance, shield held protectively before him as he slides cautiously to his right. Morgan slides up on his left. ^You _do_ remember one of the first things Seosaidh taught me about combat, don't you? In modern terms, it translates roughly to...^ Roland's mental voice joins in unison with hers. ^Dinna leave yer wingman.^ He chuckles. ^Wouldn't dream of it, love.^ His mind becomes deadly serious an instant later. /Circle left. I'll circle right. We'll start by harrying him./ Another brief, dark chuckle. /Like wolves./ Those linked to Rolessar in that moment can feel a qualitative difference in his mental patterns from the unified Roland's. Part of him is Blaze now, and another part is Defender, somewhere else. While this leaves Rolessar rather weaker, in terms of raw power, it gives him other advantages, as mentioned...but it also creates a more singular form of thought. Roland Phoenix, the whole entity, is deeply, fundamentally opposed to killing. There is a part of him, however, capable of doing so. He's done it. His darkness is not (usually) evil, but is typically buried deep. In Rolessar, Light and Darkness are present in roughly equal measure. This Roland is The Leader, and he will do What He Must (within ethical limits, of course) to protect the innocent and those who follow him. As they circle, the Eye flickers from one to the other, quivering in its hateful fashion as it stares balefully at each hero in turn. *Eye...Will...Destroy...You.* "I have heard such threats before, villain," Rolessar snarls, "and from far worse than the likes of you. I am here. They are not. LAY ON, AN' YOU ARE NOT A COWARD!" he roars, sword thrust to the sky. Lightning flashes. Thunder explodes. Sauron pivots on one foot, swinging his terrible mace at the knight-champion. Rolessar blocks with both sword and shield...then smiles terribly. "Fool." Morgan, who has been assessing the armor, strikes under the extended arm. Against a mortal foe, death would have come in moments, even considering the armor; Aramegil finds its way through the few gaps where pieces of mail meet, and there is a fierce tearing sound. A fluid that glows redly (but is clear of itself) leaks slightly from the wound, and can also be seen glinting on the faerie claymore. Sauron does not laugh -- perhaps he cannot any more -- but there is a harsh dismissive 'sound' that is probably descended from a grunt. *More The Fool _You,_* he replies, mace whirling as he pivots fully around to face Morgan, then brings the weapon down in an overhead smash aimed at the Highlander. She dodges, the force wave of its blow blunted (barely) by a badly sweating Rolessar. *Eye Cannot Die.* "We will see," the leader replies, sounding more confident than he feels. [Defeat the Crown...defeat the Crown...think, Roland, think...two worlds depend on your riddling skills.] [I hate riddles.] =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Mon, 15 Nov 2004 00:18:57 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012257 >On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 21:32:23 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012256 > >>On Thu, 11 Nov 2004 15:48:38 -0800 >>Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012246 >> >>"Indeed," quips Harlock, "'tis written into the Standard Hero >>Contract. There are standards to maintain, after all." > > Rolessar glances over his shoulder at the bard, and begins to say >something. Then he stops, returning his attention to the battle. [An' >it were not him, it would be Driscoll, or Ziactrice, or Gods help me, >ROGER. Why the Source deems it necessary to...'bless' me with such >companions I know not, but it is my fate.] Harlock, reading the expression on Rolessar's face, grins and winks, then pulls a bastard sword and flows into a defensive stance, waiting for Olog-Hai. Extra-clumsy or not, they make fearsome foes, and yet somehow the Bard manages to block full-force blows with naught but his sword. Still, he is fighting little more than a holding action, and he knows it. >>Marivale smiles savagely. His rapier crackles with heatless blue >>flames once more. A closer look reveals fog streaming off the blade >>before it dissipates in the heat of the hall. "I call the >>hell-spawn," he says as he advances confidently toward the Balrog, >>sword and dagger ready to parry. > > "Not hell-spawn, but an older thing of the world," Rolessar >explains, but gestures for Marivale to do what he does so well. >Watching Tolwyn spot Uthorion and charge toward him with a fierce >battle cry on her lips and Gandalf square off with Saruman, he >refocuses on the incoming crimson glow marching out of the darkness >of the hallway beyond. Marivale grunts. "If it looks like a duck..." he mutters, as he feints a cut at the Balrog's belly, followed by a lightning stab to the foot. [Although how I'm going to manage to kill this thing without getting close enough to get burned is another matter. I wish Erindrea were here. Hells, I'd even take Veren at this point.] Somewhat surprisingly under the circumstances, he doesn't seem to be trying to disarm the fiery beast. Almost despite himself, Marivale seems to be holding his own. Even so, it appears that he is also simply fighting a holding action. [The last fight was not truly 'gainst the foes we thought we faced. Might that not be the case this time, as well?] He blinks at the turn his train of thought has taken. [Roland,] he thinks as "loudly" as he can, [what if the crown has different goals than Sauron? "Defeat the crown to destroy Sauron," after all... Can you contact Lady Ardinay and get some idea?] =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Tue, 16 Nov 2004 16:19:55 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00012265 >Roland X wrote on 11/15/2004, 12:41 AM: > Rolessar glances over his shoulder at the bard, and begins to say >something. Then he stops, returning his attention to the battle. [An' >it were not him, it would be Driscoll, or Ziactrice, or Gods help me, >ROGER. Why the Source deems it necessary to...'bless' me with such >companions I know not, but it is my fate.] Somewhere, quite distant but closing rapidly, Rogias clutches his chest at a sudden burst of pain. "...most strange," he wheezes. "Rather as if Father were suddenly pierced by a witticism most acute... and it was not mine." He straightens in his saddle and urges his translucent flying horse to greater speeds. "Onward, Tempest! I sense a great disturbance in the Farce." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Tue, 16 Nov 2004 21:36:23 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012268 >On Mon, 15 Nov 2004 00:18:57 -0800 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012257 > >Marivale grunts. "If it looks like a duck..." he mutters, as he >feints a cut at the Balrog's belly, followed by a lightning stab to >the foot. [Although how I'm going to manage to kill this thing >without getting close enough to get burned is another matter. I wish >Erindrea were here. Hells, I'd even take Veren at this point.] >Somewhat surprisingly under the circumstances, he doesn't seem to be >trying to disarm the fiery beast. The Balrog roars hatefully, and in spite of the dread power of its fiery whip, it doesn't seem to be trying to disarm Marivale either. The beast appears to be trying to entangle the smaller, quicker warrior with that weapon while attempting a quick, ugly end of him with the enormous sword. >Almost despite himself, Marivale seems to be holding his own. Even >so, it appears that he is also simply fighting a holding action. [The >last fight was not truly 'gainst the foes we thought we faced. Might >that not be the case this time, as well?] He blinks at the turn his >train of thought has taken. [Roland,] he thinks as "loudly" as he >can, [what if the crown has different goals than Sauron? "Defeat the >crown to destroy Sauron," after all... Can you contact Lady Ardinay >and get some idea?] Though Roland's telepathy is active -- he needs to be using it to 'hear' the thoughts of others -- the deeper and more subtle gifts of Numenor prove their worth now. *Hm. Darkness Devices typically serve the Abyss, providing universes -- entire planes of existence -- for it to consume.* Rolessar continues to harry Sauron in concert with Morgan as the deadly whistle of the Eye's mace comes far too close for comfort. *This means, in the long run, that a High Lord will be at odds with its Darkness Device. However, Devices are long-lived and incredibly patient, for the most part. I don't think we will be able to come between the Eye and the Crown...* Rolessar ducks and rolls from a blow that could have easily removed his head. *...within a short enough time span to be useful. Unless we can force some magical/metaphysical wedge between them, that is...* Rolessar smiles darkly behind his beard... =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Tue, 16 Nov 2004 22:21:53 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012269 >On Tue, 16 Nov 2004 21:36:23 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012268 > >>On Mon, 15 Nov 2004 00:18:57 -0800 >>Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012257 >> >>Marivale grunts. "If it looks like a duck..." he mutters, as he >>feints a cut at the Balrog's belly, followed by a lightning stab to >>the foot. [Although how I'm going to manage to kill this thing >>without getting close enough to get burned is another matter. I wish >>Erindrea were here. Hells, I'd even take Veren at this point.] >>Somewhat surprisingly under the circumstances, he doesn't seem to be >>trying to disarm the fiery beast. > > The Balrog roars hatefully, and in spite of the dread power of its >fiery whip, it doesn't seem to be trying to disarm Marivale either. >The beast appears to be trying to entangle the smaller, quicker >warrior with that weapon while attempting a quick, ugly end of him >with the enormous sword. [It attempts to entangle me? 'Twould almost be worth the burns to watch its expression when it failed.] Marivale ducks the next whipstrike by a hair's breadth. [Almost.] >>Almost despite himself, Marivale seems to be holding his own. Even >>so, it appears that he is also simply fighting a holding action. >>[The last fight was not truly 'gainst the foes we thought we faced. >>Might that not be the case this time, as well?] He blinks at the >>turn his train of thought has taken. [Roland,] he thinks as "loudly" >>as he can, [what if the crown has different goals than Sauron? >>"Defeat the crown to destroy Sauron," after all... Can you contact >>Lady Ardinay and get some idea?] On his next exchange with the Balrog, Marivale's eyes widen slightly. [An opening! ...of sorts, anyway. Lydia take it, but this is going to hurt.] The Balrog's next sword blow crashes into the floor where Marivale had been standing. Marivale, meanwhile, has taken the opportunity to tumble _between_ the Balrog's body and its partially furled wings. As he passes through the hottest area, his rapier licks out at the membrane of the great beast's left wing. He pops to his feet behind the Balrog, singed and sweaty, but still obviously ready for battle. > Though Roland's telepathy is active -- he needs to be using it to >'hear' the thoughts of others -- the deeper and more subtle gifts of >Numenor prove their worth now. *Hm. Darkness Devices typically serve >the Abyss, providing universes -- entire planes of existence -- for >it to consume.* Rolessar continues to harry Sauron in concert with >Morgan as the deadly whistle of the Eye's mace comes far too close >for comfort. *This means, in the long run, that a High Lord will be >at odds with its Darkness Device. However, Devices are long-lived and >incredibly patient, for the most part. I don't think we will be able >to come between the Eye and the Crown...* Rolessar ducks and rolls >from a blow that could have easily removed his head. *...within a >short enough time span to be useful. Unless we can force some >magical/metaphysical wedge between them, that is...* Rolessar smiles >darkly behind his beard... Harlock chimes in. *Did I hear somebody order a mindscrew with a twist?* Even as he fends off a pair of Olog-Hai, the Bard starts weaving whispers on the wind. As he does, Sauron begins hearing about the dark designs the Drakacanus Crown has on reality. About the fact that it is using him, rather than the other way around. About the fact that its ultimate goal is the annihilation of the multiverse, Sauron included. [Although one does wonder how sentient these darkness devices are. After all, the Void will ultimately consume _them_ if they are successful.] =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Thu, 25 Nov 2004 00:07:23 -0800 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012282 >On Tue, 16 Nov 2004 22:21:53 -0800 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012269 > >On his next exchange with the Balrog, Marivale's eyes widen slightly. >[An opening! ...of sorts, anyway. Lydia take it, but this is going to >hurt.] The Balrog's next sword blow crashes into the floor where >Marivale had been standing. Marivale, meanwhile, has taken the >opportunity to tumble _between_ the Balrog's body and its partially >furled wings. As he passes through the hottest area, his rapier licks >out at the membrane of the great beast's left wing. He pops to his >feet behind the Balrog, singed and sweaty, but still obviously ready >for battle. Its massive tail lashes the very moment Marivale's feet alight on the ground, attempting to knock him over (and crush him, if his body is vulnerable enough). Using this momentum, the Balrog spins, its speed impressive despite its size. Both whip and sword slash around at three and six feet high, respectively, using its momentum from the tail slap to strike. Apparently, that _hurt._ Equally apparent is that the Balrog is not _stupid,_ it has a lot of experience, and it is now taking Marivale quite seriously. As it spins, fire flares in its mouth... >Harlock chimes in. *Did I hear somebody order a mindscrew with a >twist?* Even as he fends off a pair of Olog-Hai, the Bard starts >weaving whispers on the wind. As he does, Sauron begins hearing about >the dark designs the Drakacanus Crown has on reality. About the fact >that it is using him, rather than the other way around. About the >fact that its ultimate goal is the annihilation of the multiverse, >Sauron included. [Although one does wonder how sentient these >darkness devices are. After all, the Void will ultimately consume >_them_ if they are successful.] Unfortunately for Harlock, the Darkness Devices are quite aware of this problem, and each approaches it in its own way. However, the impetus is magickal, and while Sauron and Drakacanus both possess enormously powerful mentalities, neither is particularly subtle. There Harlock has both beings beat by a wide margin. Rolessar grins. *My turn.* With that, he thrusts his sword skyward. Most of his true power lies elsewhere now. Again, however, he has the nature of the realm behind him, and all Storm Knights have some power over reality. He binds his old gifts, his new royal nature, and that Storm Knight talent together in one fantastic effect...and creates, for all intents and purposes, a null-magic field around himself, encompassing Sauron in it. The entire realm shudders. Sauron's power and control are linked to its magical nature, and Drakacanus' very reality is grounded in the magical. [Defeat the Crown...] Only their combined raw power keep the golem-like armor moving, though it is now sluggish. The mace sags in its arm. Immediately, the Eye turns with lightning speed on Rolessar, pinning him in its terrible gaze. *FOOL! NO LIVING MAN IS MORE POWERFUL THAN EYE!* Rolessar staggers. /NOW!/ he sends, slipping and falling to one knee, his face peeling as if from truly vicious sunburns. Morgan lunges, driving Aramegil between the Crown and the top of the body armor. The Eye snaps its attention again, quivering, "But," she chuckles, shifting her grip, "no living man am I." She pushes down the hilt of her greatsword, and the Crown flies into the air. "And I know how to leverage my power." The Crown flies end-over-end above the Highlander's head, landing with a distinct, metallic thunk on the ground behind her. [...to destroy Sauron...] The armor collapses. With that, Rolessar releases the null-field with a gasp of relief. [...and destroy Sauron to defeat the Crown. heh.] Morgan strides over and offers him a hand, which he gratefully accepts. /Aurora, Hydra, I need you,/ Rolessar sends. /If no one claims the Crown, the Middle-Earth Realm will vanish, taking its reality with it...and millions will die from Possibility loss, unless something restores that energy./ As she helps the knight-champion up, the druidess sends a wave of healing energy through his body, restoring new, healthy skin beneath the dead layer which quickly dissipates. */Keep...them away from it.../* Rolessar sends as the entire Realm shifts, almost as if it had been rung like a bell. What he means becomes readily apparent, as Saruman, the Balrog, and Uthorion (who once bore the Crown) all turn greedy eyes toward it. Uthorion, however, gasps in mid-spell as Battlestar thrusts through his chest. "Oh no you don't!" Tolwyn snaps, throwing her shield arm over his face as he flails wildly. "Shouldn't have turned your back, idiot, but you've jumped bodies for the last time!" Rolessar winces. *That's one.* They take up positions around the Crown, the Eye still dancing around powerlessly within its spikes, as Saruman wheels in mid-air with a hungry gleam in his dead eyes... (OOC: Time to slay the donuts. Go ahead and finish up -- er, off -- with what you're playing with at your leisure.) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Fri, 26 Nov 2004 03:15:17 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012287 >On Thu, 25 Nov 2004 00:07:23 -0800 >Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012282 > >>On his next exchange with the Balrog, Marivale's eyes widen >>slightly. [An opening! ...of sorts, anyway. Lydia take it, but this >>is going to hurt.] The Balrog's next sword blow crashes into the >>floor where Marivale had been standing. Marivale, meanwhile, has >>taken the opportunity to tumble _between_ the Balrog's body and its >>partially furled wings. As he passes through the hottest area, his >>rapier licks out at the membrane of the great beast's left wing. He >>pops to his feet behind the Balrog, singed and sweaty, but still >>obviously ready for battle. > > Its massive tail lashes the very moment Marivale's feet alight on >the ground, attempting to knock him over (and crush him, if his body >is vulnerable enough). Marivale *whoulf*s in surprise as the beast's tail catches him square in the gut, but he recovers with remarkable speed: he plants his dagger in said tail so that when it (and he) come to a halt, he doesn't get thrown to the side. >Using this momentum, the Balrog spins, its speed impressive despite >its size. Both whip and sword slash around at three and six feet >high, respectively, using its momentum from the tail slap to strike. An impressive display, to be sure, but since Marivale is now behind it again--having hitched an unexpected ride on the beast's tail--ultimately futile...well, save for the fact that the whip catches an Olog-Hai a glancing blow. Which is only fair, since the Olog-Hai in question was winding up for a swing at where Marivale had been before the tail-sweep. > Apparently, that _hurt._ Equally apparent is that the Balrog is not > _stupid,_ it has a lot of experience, and it is now taking Marivale quite > seriously. As it spins, fire flares in its mouth... [Not the most favorable of positions, methinks.] A rapid mental review of his options results in Marivale venting a heart-felt sigh. [Well, I hope I can retrieve my dagger later: blasted thing cost me a Duke's ransom to enchant.] With that, he lets go of the dagger, somersaulting frantically out of range of the Balrog while he unties a flask from his belt with one hand, pops the cork, and drinks it in one fluid motion. As he bounces back to his feet, he seems to be surrounded momentarily by a cool blue glow. He shakes his head somewhat groggily, then draws a second dagger and moves to close once more with the dread beast. [Should have drunk that _before_ engaging. I'd still be bruised, but at least I wouldn't be blistering in uncomfortable places.] > */Keep...them away from it.../* Rolessar sends as the entire Realm >shifts, almost as if it had been rung like a bell. > What he means becomes readily apparent, as Saruman, the Balrog, >and Uthorion (who once bore the Crown) all turn greedy eyes toward >it. [Harlock still has his hands full with trolls, Geoffery is fending off orcs, and our leaders look to be busy dealing with the wraith soon. Now would be a marvelous time for a Deus Ex...] Marivale's thought breaks off as a pair of arrows streaks over his head and bury themselves in the Balrog's chest. Glancing over his shoulder, he notices Erindrea and Veren letting fly once more. "Glad to see we didn't miss all the fun," says Erin with a wink, "you mahnd a bit of help with tall, flamin', and ugly, theh?" Even as she speaks, she and Veren are separating, both to give themselves better firing angles and to present the Balrog with a choice of targets if it should decide the archers are more of a threat than the swordsman. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Sat, 27 Nov 2004 14:31:40 -0800 Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012292 >On Thu, 25 Nov 2004 00:07:23 -0800 >Morgan and Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012282 > > The Crown flies end-over-end above the Highlander's head, landing >with a distinct, metallic thunk on the ground behind her. [...to >destroy Sauron...] The armor collapses. With that, Rolessar releases >the null-field with a gasp of relief. [...and destroy Sauron to >defeat the Crown. heh.] Morgan strides over and offers him a hand, >which he gratefully accepts. > /Aurora, Hydra, I need you,/ Rolessar sends. /If no one claims the >Crown, the Middle-Earth Realm will vanish, taking its reality with >it...and millions will die from Possibility loss, unless something >restores that energy./ > As she helps the knight-champion up, the druidess sends a wave of >healing energy through his body, restoring new, healthy skin beneath >the dead layer which quickly dissipates. > */Keep...them away from it.../* Rolessar sends as the entire Realm >shifts, almost as if it had been rung like a bell. /*"Have no fear, Rolessar, it shall not escape, and the beings in this realm shall survive, though SOME will not go unscathed."*/ Hydra replies. As he speaks, he wraps the crown in invisible forces that no being less powerful than Cerberus (OOC: ~5 times as powerful as Galactus) could break, leaving only one method of access even partially available. > What he means becomes readily apparent, as Saruman, the Balrog, >and Uthorion (who once bore the Crown) all turn greedy eyes toward >it. > Uthorion, however, gasps in mid-spell as Battlestar thrusts >through his chest. "Oh no you don't!" Tolwyn snaps, throwing her >shield arm over his face as he flails wildly. "Shouldn't have turned >your back, idiot, but you've jumped bodies for the last time!" > Rolessar winces. *That's one.* They take up positions around the >Crown, the Eye still dancing around powerlessly within its spikes, as >Saruman wheels in mid-air with a hungry gleam in his dead eyes... "Reaching" through the one method of access that Hydra left, Aurora wraps the crown in insulating and isolating spiritual energies, and "flings" it out of the Earth 9 Universe into a small "nearby" Universe. Both the Crown, and Sauron have just enough time to realize they are in DEEP trouble before The Stardragon's traps begin going off against "them". As the crown "exits" the Middle Earth realm, Hydra takes up the burden of maintaining the realm, until Aurora can join him in replacing the "lost" energies, and returning the entire realm to its condition BEFORE the invasion happened. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Mon, 29 Nov 2004 15:23:44 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00012294 L.J. Wolfe wrote on 11/25/2004, 3:14 AM: > The entire realm shudders. Sauron's power and control are linked >to its magical nature, and Drakacanus' very reality is grounded in >the magical. [Defeat the Crown...] Only their combined raw power keep >the golem-like armor moving, though it is now sluggish. The mace sags >in its arm. Immediately, the Eye turns with lightning speed on >Rolessar, pinning him in its terrible gaze. *FOOL! NO LIVING MAN IS >MORE POWERFUL THAN EYE!* > Rolessar staggers. /NOW!/ he sends, slipping and falling to one >knee, his face peeling as if from truly vicious sunburns. Rogias, arriving overhead in time to hear this great pronouncement, winces. "One could almost pity the poor Device -- is that a self-fulfilling prophecy in its pocket, or is it just glad to see me?" >Morgan lunges, driving Aramegil between the Crown and the top of the >body armor. The Eye snaps its attention again, quivering, "But," she >chuckles, shifting her grip, "no living man am I." She pushes down >the hilt of her greatsword, and the Crown flies into the air. "And I >know how to leverage my power." Rogias begins producing energy arrows with peanut-shaped tips and pegging them at various Lesser Nasties scattered around the battlefield. /Truly, Mother, that was a pun most painful. And you speak of *my* attempts at humor -- methinks the pot doth protest the kettle is black too much, forsooth!/ Rogias frowns, trying to untangle his own verbiage. /Grant me a moment, please... that did not come out quite the way I intended..../ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Tue, 30 Nov 2004 12:15:39 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012297 >On Fri, 26 Nov 2004 03:15:17 -0800 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012287 > >>On Thu, 25 Nov 2004 00:07:23 -0800 >>Morgan and Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012282 >> >> Using this momentum, the Balrog spins, its speed impressive >>despite its size. Both whip and sword slash around at three and six >>feet high, respectively, using its momentum from the tail slap to >>strike. > >An impressive display, to be sure, but since Marivale is now behind >it again--having hitched an unexpected ride on the beast's >tail--ultimately futile...well, save for the fact that the whip >catches an Olog-Hai a glancing blow. Which is only fair, since the >Olog-Hai in question was winding up for a swing at where Marivale had >been before the tail-sweep. The Balrog takes the obvious opening, flinging his tail up and slapping it down in a swift motion. (It looks remarkably like the reaction of an annoyed cat. From hell, admittedly, but still...) >> Apparently, that _hurt._ Equally apparent is that the Balrog is >>not _stupid,_ it has a lot of experience, and it is now taking >>Marivale quite seriously. As it spins, fire flares in its mouth... > >[Not the most favorable of positions, methinks.] A rapid mental >review of his options results in Marivale venting a heart-felt sigh. >[Well, I hope I can retrieve my dagger later: blasted thing cost me a >Duke's ransom to enchant.] With that, he lets go of the dagger, >somersaulting frantically out of range of the Balrog while he unties >a flask from his belt with one hand, pops the cork, and drinks it in >one fluid motion. As he bounces back to his feet, he seems to be >surrounded momentarily by a cool blue glow. He shakes his head >somewhat groggily, then draws a second dagger and moves to close once >more with the dread beast. [Should have drunk that _before_ engaging. >I'd still be bruised, but at least I wouldn't be blistering in >uncomfortable places.] The ancient thing roars, unnatural flames spiralling out of its mouth. It is enough to make a dragon wince, though at the wrongness of it rather than the heat... >> */Keep...them away from it.../* Rolessar sends as the entire >>Realm shifts, almost as if it had been rung like a bell. >> What he means becomes readily apparent, as Saruman, the Balrog, >>and Uthorion (who once bore the Crown) all turn greedy eyes toward >>it. > >[Harlock still has his hands full with trolls, Geoffery is fending >off orcs, and our leaders look to be busy dealing with the wraith >soon. Now would be a marvelous time for a Deus Ex...] Marivale's >thought breaks off as a pair of arrows streaks over his head and bury >themselves in the Balrog's chest. Glancing over his shoulder, he >notices Erindrea and Veren letting fly once more. The Balrog roars in pain and staggers back, looking at its new assailants with distressing craft in its eyes. >"Glad to see we didn't miss all the fun," says Erin with a wink, "you >mahnd a bit of help with tall, flamin', and ugly, theh?" Even as she >speaks, she and Veren are separating, both to give themselves better >firing angles and to present the Balrog with a choice of targets if >it should decide the archers are more of a threat than the swordsman. Their foe looks at the trio and at the staggering champion guarding the Crown, and makes the obvious choice. Fortunately for the multiverse (as even Evil GM-San isn't about to let High Lord Balrog loose on it, and I _am_ trying to wrap this up)... >On Sat, 27 Nov 2004 14:31:40 -0800 >Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012292 > >>On Thu, 25 Nov 2004 00:07:23 -0800 >>Morgan and Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012282 >> >> /Aurora, Hydra, I need you,/ Rolessar sends. /If no one claims >>the Crown, the Middle-Earth Realm will vanish, taking its reality >>with it...and millions will die from Possibility loss, unless >>something restores that energy./ ... >> */Keep...them away from it.../* Rolessar sends as the entire >>Realm shifts, almost as if it had been rung like a bell. > >/*"Have no fear, Rolessar, it shall not escape, and the beings in >this realm shall survive, though SOME will not go unscathed."*/ Hydra >replies. As he speaks, he wraps the crown in invisible forces that no >being less powerful than Cerberus (OOC: ~5 times as powerful as >Galactus) could break, leaving only one method of access even >partially available. Invisible, perhaps, but detectable to the truly gifted. Still, whatever one can say of Saruman, his power does not match even the least of the Starspawn, and with the Crown neutralized, the faux Nine Rings are already beginning to unravel. Both they and the Balrog come to a halt. Above the battle, a great stone bridge flickers into view, arching into the sky and vanishing into a dark gray cloud. The bricks are beginning to come apart. Saruman takes one look at the battle and wheels his wyvern around for it. "Another time, fools." The other wraiths follow suit, as does the (rather slower-flying) Balrog, abandoning their earth-bound minions. For a moment, Rolessar smiles with grim satisfaction. >"Reaching" through the one method of access that Hydra left, Aurora >wraps the crown in insulating and isolating spiritual energies, and >"flings" it out of the Earth 9 Universe into a small "nearby" >Universe. Both the Crown, and Sauron have just enough time to realize >they are in DEEP trouble before The Stardragon's traps begin going >off against "them". As the crown "exits" the Middle Earth realm, >Hydra takes up the burden of maintaining the realm, until Aurora can >join him in replacing the "lost" energies, and returning the entire >realm to its condition BEFORE the invasion happened. His smile vanishes as he watches the dread beings head for the crumbling arch. "I think not," Rolessar rumbles. */Those villains have wrought enough damage in two worlds. They make for the Maelstrom Bridge -- the passageway from their world to ours. Let us end it here./* With that, as the gigantic castle begins to waver in and out of existence, he lets out a raptor's cry, and Gryphoenix returns to his side. *"SARUMAN!"* he roars, mounting the great beast and holding his sword aloft. *"This is the end!"* "That's my boy," Tolwyn adds happily, tossing aside an arm of gears and iron. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Tue, 30 Nov 2004 22:13:08 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012300 >On Tue, 30 Nov 2004 12:15:39 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012297 > >>An impressive display, to be sure, but since Marivale is now behind >>it again--having hitched an unexpected ride on the beast's >>tail--ultimately futile...well, save for the fact that the whip >>catches an Olog-Hai a glancing blow. Which is only fair, since the >>Olog-Hai in question was winding up for a swing at where Marivale >>had been before the tail-sweep. > > The Balrog takes the obvious opening, flinging his tail up and >slapping it down in a swift motion. (It looks remarkably like the >reaction of an annoyed cat. From hell, admittedly, but still...) (OOC: Ooh! Retcon time...this is just too cool to pass up.) Marivale loses his grip on his dagger and flies back away from the Balrog, tucking and rolling at the last moment to land a two-footed kick square in the back of one of the Olog-Hai that was harassing Harlock. It, in turn, stumbles into the _other_ Olog-Hai that the Bard had been keeping at bay (or vice-versa) The trolls topple. _Marivale_ sticks his landing, yanks a potion off his belt, and drinks it. >>[Should have drunk that _before_ engaging. I'd still be bruised, but >>at least I wouldn't be blistering in uncomfortable places.] > > The ancient thing roars, unnatural flames spiralling out of its >mouth. It is enough to make a dragon wince, though at the wrongness >of it rather than the heat... (OOC: Not that Marivale's particularly worried about that. He has Evasion, the D&D 3.5 ability that occasionally goes by the nickname "mystic pretzel." Any time he gets hit with a "reflex save for half" effect, he takes no damage if he makes his save...and he has an obscenely good reflex save by this point (+28, if I'm doing the math right: good enough that most dragons can't touch him with a breath weapon) The nickname derives from the fact that a character standing ground zero for a fireball can potentially come out of it unscathed if he has the Evasion ability: he ties himself in a mystic pretzel and somehow the fireball passes right through him.) >>"Glad to see we didn't miss all the fun," says Erin with a wink, >>"you mahnd a bit of help with tall, flamin', and ugly, theh?" Even >>as she speaks, she and Veren are separating, both to give themselves >>better firing angles and to present the Balrog with a choice of >>targets if it should decide the archers are more of a threat than >>the swordsman. > > Their foe looks at the trio and at the staggering champion >guarding the Crown, and makes the obvious choice. (OOC: plow through Rolessar and grab the crown, yes?) > Both they and the Balrog come to a halt. Above the battle, a great >stone bridge flickers into view, arching into the sky and vanishing >into a dark gray cloud. The bricks are beginning to come apart. >Saruman takes one look at the battle and wheels his wyvern around for >it. "Another time, fools." The other wraiths follow suit, as does the >(rather slower-flying) Balrog, abandoning their earth-bound minions. As the Balrog turns to abandon the field of battle, Geoffery takes a moment to yank Marivale's dagger out of its tail by means of a telekinesis spell. Marivale nods in absent thanks as the dagger returns to him, then starts carving up trolls, having been denied his primary target. > "I think not," Rolessar rumbles. */Those villains have wrought >enough damage in two worlds. They make for the Maelstrom Bridge -- >the passageway from their world to ours. Let us end it here./* Veren and Erin glance at each other, shrug, and shift their aim to more lethal targets. Veren actually starts shooting ringwraiths, while Erin concentrates on shredding the Balrog's wings as much as she can. With enchanted frog-crotch arrows, she can shred a lot of wing in a little time. (OOC: Veren, meanwhile, is doing 1d8 +4d6 +37 minimum damage per shot, assuming that the Nazgul are both evil and undead. Once every 6 seconds, add another 5d6 as his Rancor Blow kicks in. I figure the lesser wraiths aren't going to survive that kind of punishment for long.) =========================== Subject: AAE9m: The Black Gate Closes On Wed, 08 Dec 2004 19:11:23 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012308 >On Tue, 30 Nov 2004 22:13:08 -0800 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012300 > >>On Tue, 30 Nov 2004 12:15:39 -0800 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012297 >> >> Their foe looks at the trio and at the staggering champion >>guarding the Crown, and makes the obvious choice. > >(OOC: plow through Rolessar and grab the crown, yes?) OOC: Bingo. >> "I think not," Rolessar rumbles. */Those villains have wrought >>enough damage in two worlds. They make for the Maelstrom Bridge >>the passageway from their world to ours. Let us end it here./* > >Veren and Erin glance at each other, shrug, and shift their aim to >more lethal targets. Veren actually starts shooting ringwraiths, >while Erin concentrates on shredding the Balrog's wings as much as >she can. With enchanted frog-crotch arrows, she can shred a lot of >wing in a little time. (OOC: Veren, meanwhile, is doing 1d8 +4d6 +37 >minimum damage per shot, assuming that the Nazgul are both evil and >undead. Once every 6 seconds, add another 5d6 as his Rancor Blow >kicks in. I figure the lesser wraiths aren't going to survive that >kind of punishment for long.) Normally, there would be very little that firing arrows at a Balrog's wings would do -- the monstrous things are already tattered and porous, and it's clear that only powerful magic allows the vile thing to fly at all. With the Crown's power leaking away, however, the Balrog's fearsome might is beginning to slowly fade. It is not much less of a combatant, but its ability to fly is fading fast. And Erin's arrows aren't helping its situation any. Realizing that it cannot escape by air, the Balrog lands with a frustrated roar/scream, turning to face the band of heroes that have tormented it. Glaring most hatefully at Marivale and Erindrea, it roars out flame...flame that spirals around it and sheathes the evil creature in ancient fire. Then it charges. (OOC: He's all yours. "Finish him!" ;^) -- Evil GM-San This was fun. But it's time for some different kinds of evil. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Black Gate Closes On Wed, 08 Dec 2004 22:23:23 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012310 >On Wed, 08 Dec 2004 19:11:23 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012308 > Realizing that it cannot escape by air, the Balrog lands with a >frustrated roar/scream, turning to face the band of heroes that have >tormented it. Glaring most hatefully at Marivale and Erindrea, it >roars out flame...flame that spirals around it and sheathes the evil >creature in ancient fire. > Then it charges. Marivale charges the feiry beast in turn, dropping prone under a sword slash at the last second and sliding hard into the monster's shins. Under ordinary circumstances, with an ordinary swordsman attempting this maneuver, the result would be a roasted, somewhat squashed swordsman. But the Balrog is charging, and Marivale is no ordinary swordsman: with a startled bellow, the dread beast face-plants as Marivale somehow manages to carom off its shins, between its legs, and pop back to his feet, much of the cool blue aura surrounding him gone. Marivale eyes the beast measuringly for a moment while it starts climbing back to its feet, noting where the tendons run. With almost surgical precision, he severs the main tendon supporting the tail, then the Balrog's equivalent of the Achilles Tendon on both sides. Dispassionately he works his way up the body, severing tendons as he goes, parrying a few desperate attempts to harm him in return. When he finally reaches the neck, he finally finds what he was truly searching for: a pulse point, fluttering rapidly. With one quick thrust, he punctures the vein, then dodges the flaming ichor that starts spewing out. Erindrea, meanwhile, watches calmly as Marivale trips the dread beast. Keeping one eye on that situation in case he needs help after all, she begins shooting trolls. In the eye. From across the crowded courtyard. With flaming arrows. Veren, for his part, has run out of lesser wraiths. He eyes Saruman with wary curiousity, restricting his target choice to the wizard-wraith's mount for the moment. He catches a glint of gold as the wizard's hand emerges from the tattered cloak. [If what Erin told me is true, these things get their power from their rings. I wonder what would happen...] he thinks, as he pulls an adamantine arrow from his quiver and fires at the impossibly tiny target, [if the ring were to break?] (OOC: Your call on that last question, boss-man. The Rings of Man were _not_ described as indestructible, IIRC. ) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Eye and The Crown On Sat, 11 Dec 2004 03:43:18 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012315 Moonstone had been becoming increasingly pensive after the initial battle in London, and she was at a loss for a reason why. She had merely nodded at Roland's suggestion that her aerial abilities would be of use wherever she chose to apply them, saying only she'd accompany the strike force on Sauron's own keep. The wait for the attack had seemed almost unbearable, not due to anxiety, but a pernicious and escalating viciousness she was at a loss to explain. Thankfully, she wasn't one of the truly lensed, but she did her part to avoid the empathic members of the CAoL, she did not wish to answer questions about something she herself could not explain. As the battle began in full, the dragoness tore through her aerial opponents at a monstrous pace, and with each vanquished opponent, her vicious nature seemed to grow. None of her kind was like this. They would defend their homes, but she prefered to avoid a fight unless her lair was being intruded upon by unwelcome visitors. This was wrong, it was unlike her, and a detached part of her found it morally repugnant. And something else inside her found it exhilirating and oh so right. [It's like, like I'm one of -them-,] Moonstone realized even as she bit an orc's head off as she tore its mount apart with her Superman-empowered claws, [Like I'm one of ... Tolkein's dragons! Oh NO!] >On Mon, 29 Nov 2004 20:49:44 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012302 >>On Fri, 26 Nov 2004 03:15:17 -0800 >>Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012287 >>>On Thu, 25 Nov 2004 00:07:23 -0800 >>>Morgan and Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012282 >>> >>> */Keep...them away from it.../* Rolessar sends as the entire >>>Realm shifts, almost as if it had been rung like a bell. >>> What he means becomes readily apparent, as Saruman, the Balrog, >>>and Uthorion (who once bore the Crown) all turn greedy eyes toward >>>it. /Like my soul depended on it,/ Moonstone replied solemnly, wheeling through the air toward the wraith Sauruman, /This world's been affecting me more than I realized, but I will not be another of Sauron's dragons./ > His smile vanishes as he watches the dread beings head for the >crumbling arch. > "I think not," Rolessar rumbles. */Those villains have wrought >enough damage in two worlds. They make for the Maelstrom Bridge >the passageway from their world to ours. Let us end it here./* With >that, as the gigantic castle begins to waver in and out of existence, >he lets out a raptor's cry, and Gryphoenix returns to his side. >*"SARUMAN!"* he roars, mounting the great beast and holding his sword >aloft. *"This is the end!"* > "That's my boy," Tolwyn adds happily, tossing aside an arm of >gears and iron. Moonstone had been using her own wings in the battle, but now she lets the amulat Fuzzy had given her to do the flying. With an explosion of sound, she moves at speed of sound beneath Sauruman's mount and digs her claws deeply into its flesh, tearing it apart with the viciousness this realm had imposed on her and her own added revulsion at the recognition of what it was trying to turn her into. "Hello, Sharky," she managed to articulate as her teeth sunk into the beast's throat adding to the gore covering the once pristine white dragoness as it's own teeth and claws scraped vainly against kryptonian-scale, well, scales. Staying on his 'horse' was going to prove difficult given his graceful flight had turned into an airborne cat-fight, and a rather one-sided one at that. (OOC: Unless, of course, the Enemy had prepared for this trick. I doubt Sauruman is going to fall, of course, but if "Sharky" only floats as fast as the other Ringwraiths, Veren's shot just got easier.) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Black Gate Closes On Sat, 11 Dec 2004 12:38:24 -0800 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012319 >On Sat, 11 Dec 2004 03:43:18 -0000 >Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012315 > > /Like my soul depended on it,/ Moonstone replied solemnly, >wheeling through the air toward the wraith Sauruman, /This world's >been affecting me more than I realized, but I will not be another of >Sauron's dragons./ Rolessar considers this. He is, of course, concerned for his teammate and friend. However, his thoughts are more...efficient...than usual. /If you must, depart the field and find safer axioms. If you can, remain and turn those instincts on the Enemy. I trust your judgement./ > Moonstone had been using her own wings in the battle, but now she >lets the amulat Fuzzy had given her to do the flying. With an >explosion of sound, she moves at speed of sound beneath Sauruman's >mount and digs her claws deeply into its flesh, tearing it apart with >the viciousness this realm had imposed on her and her own added >revulsion at the recognition of what it was trying to turn her into. > "Hello, Sharky," she managed to articulate as her teeth sunk into >the beast's throat adding to the gore covering the once pristine >white dragoness as it's own teeth and claws scraped vainly against >kryptonian-scale, well, scales. Staying on his 'horse' was going to >prove difficult given his graceful flight had turned into an airborne >cat-fight, and a rather one-sided one at that. "What--?!" Saruman flies/falls off as the battle becomes...heated. Floating slowly downward, the Ringwraith Wizard glares at his foes. "Wretched beast!" he snarls, pointing his staff at Moonstone. (OOC: So, anyone remember how effective Kryptonian defenses are against magic? ;^) However... >On Wed, 08 Dec 2004 22:23:23 -0800 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012310 >Veren, for his part, has run out of lesser wraiths. He eyes Saruman >with wary curiousity, restricting his target choice to the >wizard-wraith's mount for the moment. He catches a glint of gold as >the wizard's hand emerges from the tattered cloak. [If what Erin told >me is true, these things get their power from their rings. I wonder >what would happen...] he thinks, as he pulls an adamantine arrow from >his quiver and fires at the impossibly tiny target, [if the ring were >to break?] Saruman looks at Veren with casual contempt as he parries the arrow with his staff. The arrow explodes in a flash of light, though the Adamantine head is unharmed, and falls to the ground. (OOC: c.f. Legolas' attempt against what he thinks is Saruman in Two Towers. ;^) "Parry this," Rolessar hisses, rocketing straight for the Ringwraith. Saruman smiles contemptuously. Just before the Phoenix Claw comes into range, the Black Wizard begins to fall, and Gryphoenix is racing forward too quickly to compensate. The royal champion grunts in annoyance as the pair wheels around to make another pass. The remaining wraiths and wyverns (and thanks to the archers' efforts, there are more wyverns than wraiths) fly at Moonstone as Saruman lands, then looks at his foemen (and women) with regal arrogance. "Come, then," he intones, the Voice of Saruman echoing to make the bravest man quiver in terror. "Come at me, if you would face Saruman the Black." Gandalf pauses only briefly, though Rolessar and Gryphoenix tumble in the air for a few moments before regaining their balance. The royal champion leaps off the magical steed, landing across from the Black Wizard, sword at the ready and shield held up defensively. "Your Voice has no power over me, wizard," Rolessar replies, his own voice echoing powerfully (though not with a Voice of any sort). "Yours is not the first I have faced, nor will it be the last." "Oh, but it will," Saruman says with an oily smile. "You see, I know your...weakness." He thrusts his staff at the leader, who grunts and staggers back slightly despite being over ten feet away. The smile becomes vicious and predatory. "The power of the Shadow...burns you." Rolessar is shaking in pain, but looks up with a deadly fire in his eyes. "Not as...badly as...it usually does." He raises his blade. "NOW!" Gandalf thrusts his own staff forward, pinning the Black Wizard in a burst of light. "AAGH!" Saruman cries, recoiling. Suddenly, the Black Wizard's legs buckle. He glares around, and sees Morgan hovering behind him on Brightwind, saluting him with her blade. "There are other ways to hamstring one's prey than with one's teeth," she says cooly, "the more so when one has a variety of 'talents.'" The Wraith is aware that his hamstrings have not just been crippled, they're _gone._ ^He's all yours, my love.^ As Saruman points his staff at the Greywolf, determined to ensure that this is the last time he underestimates her, Rolessar decides to assist that goal, albeit in a way Saruman will no doubt dislike. He had begun charging forward from the moment Gandalf pointed his staff, and now he comes on the Black Wizard like a lion, hammering his ribs with the great shield. As Saruman collapses on to the shield, the royal champion drives his blade through the wrist holding the staff and pulls the arm taut with it. Saruman turns to face Rolessar, their noses mere inches apart. "And now what will you do, echo of Aragorn? You cannot defeat me with your sword in my arm." "Not alone," Rolessar replies, his own smile as sharp as Death's own scythe. ^Not necessary, my heart,^ he replies to his beloved. Almost as one, the hero and the wraith turn to look at the archers with Harlock. Roland nods. Saruman screams. "NO!" (OOC: And I'm betting that's the last sound he ever makes, what with his hand being a nice, unmoving target now... 8^) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Black Gate Closes On Sat, 11 Dec 2004 15:59:36 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012321 >On Sat, 11 Dec 2004 12:38:24 -0800 >Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012319 (OOC: *snicker* I asked for that one, didn't I?) > Saruman looks at Veren with casual contempt as he parries the >arrow with his staff. The arrow explodes in a flash of light, though >the Adamantine head is unharmed, and falls to the ground. (OOC: c.f. >Legolas' attempt against what he thinks is Saruman in Two Towers. ;^) > "Parry this," Rolessar hisses, rocketing straight for the >Ringwraith. > Saruman smiles contemptuously. Just before the Phoenix Claw comes >into range, the Black Wizard begins to fall, and Gryphoenix is racing >forward too quickly to compensate. The royal champion grunts in >annoyance as the pair wheels around to make another pass. > The remaining wraiths and wyverns (and thanks to the archers' >efforts, there are more wyverns than wraiths) fly at Moonstone as >Saruman lands, then looks at his foemen (and women) with regal >arrogance. "Come, then," he intones, the Voice of Saruman echoing to >make the bravest man quiver in terror. "Come at me, if you would face >Saruman the Black." Erin shudders nervously, but continues sniping at the Olog-Hai. Veren's habitual snarl, however, transforms for a moment into a sneer of contempt as the Voice washes over his magical defenses against the undead...without affecting him in the least. Harlock begins to Whistle a Happy Tune. Marivale interposes himself between a trio of Olog-Hai and Erin, quipping "thanks all the same, but I think I'll keep our archers alive long enough to do it for me. Be a waste of time to plow my way through the throng, don't you know." > As Saruman points his staff at the Greywolf, determined to ensure >that this is the last time he underestimates her, Rolessar decides to >assist that goal, albeit in a way Saruman will no doubt dislike. He >had begun charging forward from the moment Gandalf pointed his staff, >and now he comes on the Black Wizard like a lion, hammering his ribs >with the great shield. As Saruman collapses on to the shield, the >royal champion drives his blade through the wrist holding the staff >and pulls the arm taut with it. Saruman turns to face Rolessar, their >noses mere inches apart. "And now what will you do, echo of Aragorn? >You cannot defeat me with your sword in my arm." > "Not alone," Rolessar replies, his own smile as sharp as Death's >own scythe. ^Not necessary, my heart,^ he replies to his beloved. >Almost as one, the hero and the wraith turn to look at the archers >with Harlock. Roland nods. > Saruman screams. "NO!" Erindrea doesn't even pause between shots, but one of the arrows that she has been firing in a steady stream is not aimed at a troll. The arrow's adamantine head glints green in the light of the courtyard as it homes in on the ring that Saruman wears. Veren is...more direct this time, as his shot buzzes by Rolessar's ear like an oversized hornet to bury itself in Saruman's forehead. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Black Gate Closes On Wed, 22 Dec 2004 23:40:53 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012330 >On Sat, 11 Dec 2004 15:59:36 -0800 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012321 > >Erindrea doesn't even pause between shots, but one of the arrows that >she has been firing in a steady stream is not aimed at a troll. The >arrow's adamantine head glints green in the light of the courtyard as >it homes in on the ring that Saruman wears. Veren is...more direct >this time, as his shot buzzes by Rolessar's ear like an oversized >hornet to bury itself in Saruman's forehead. Veren's arrow buries itself quite neatly in Saruman's forehead. The Black Wizard doesn't seem to care, though whether or not he would have soon after the blow is a question scholars of the obscure still study on Middle-Earth. The question becomes entirely academic, however, as Erindrea's arrow neatly shatters the remaining Ring of Man. Saruman's scream grows. And grows. And grows. Olog-hai cover their ears and run, heedless of swords and arrows. Even the uruk-hai, whose language is so foul and dark that it can make ill some creatures of light and beauty, retch and scream and weep at the horror of it. /Perhaps I should move,/ Rolessar thinks dryly, his entire body shaking from the powerful foul emanation. Yanking his sword out of Saruman's slowly disintegrating arm, he retreats quickly (aka runs like hell) while the sound continues to grow. The Maelstrom Bridge and the castle disintegrate with greatly increasing alacrity, 'falling' up in a way most familiar to those who threw off another High Lord on the planet Krull. /Everybody out of the pool!/ he sends, grasping Morgan's hand. "Fall back!" Morgan shouts, using her magic to amplify her voice to be heard by all friendlies over the din. As she takes her husband's hand, she throws an anti-magic screen over him to protect him from the foul waves coming off the soon-to-be-former Ringwraith. "Anyone else need cover?" she adds as they all exit the courtyard for the snow-covered slopes. As the heroes reach a safe distance, they are witness to a strange, amazing explosion, as the darkness bursts from the top of the mountain like a rocket, following the remains of the Bridge like a reverse contrail and vanishing in a fashion similar to the apex of the construct. An instant later, the Callahanians and allies are treated to a sight that explains the mountain's name, as Glittertinden is crowned by the sun's light and spills every color of the rainbow about it in a brilliant display. For a moment, all present see (or at least think they see) another castle atop the mountain, a thing of ephemeral beauty and fairy tale spires, Glamour and fantasy made manifest. Then it vanishes to mundane sight, though mystical senses are still aware of the object. The war is over. Gandalf takes a long, deep, relieved breath as Tolwyn impulsively throws her arms around Marivale and kisses him on the cheek. "An end to it at last," the old wizard says, nodding to himself. Then, looking around, he smiles gently. "And, perhaps, a new beginning." Indeed, the castle is not the only thing those with arcane senses or deeper attunements can feel. The dark power of the Crown is gone, its life-sapping evil and nihilistic hunger for Possibility locked away by the Starspawn. Fantastically, however, much of the mystical infusion the realm's reality brought to the region remains, restoring much wonder that had once been lost. Most objects have returned to their previous states (Minas London is 'just' London once more), but a few relics remain, and other native elements have been...energized. Rolessar kisses Morgan. He doesn't bother with her cheek. As everyone prepares to gate back, Morgan walks over to Gandalf. "And what of you, now that your great Foe has been defeated?" Gandalf shakes his head, the smile growing (and growing more fond). "Ever the perceptive one, eh, my lady?" He leans back and closes his eyes. "I return home. Back to white shores and silver glass, emerald trees and old friends." He looks over at her from one slightly opened eye. "Any Fellowship begun in love and trust is eternal, you know. Oh, we might get lost along the way, but in the end, we always find our way...home." He touches his staff to the brim of his hat in an odd salute. "It has been good to know you, Morgan of the Grey Wolves." Somehow, he winks at her. "May we meet again, a long time from now, in a place where no Shadows fall." While Morgan is still trying to figure out what the White Wizard meant, he urges Shadowfax forward, and the pair ride through the gate. They do not, however, emerge from the other side. -- Roland, Morgan & Gandalf "Even the very wise cannot see all ends." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9m: The Black Gate Closes On Thu, 23 Dec 2004 02:55:12 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012332 >On Wed, 22 Dec 2004 23:40:53 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012330 > > Veren's arrow buries itself quite neatly in Saruman's forehead. >The Black Wizard doesn't seem to care, though whether or not he would >have soon after the blow is a question scholars of the obscure still >study on Middle-Earth. > The question becomes entirely academic, however, as Erindrea's >arrow neatly shatters the remaining Ring of Man. > Saruman's scream grows. And grows. And grows. > Olog-hai cover their ears and run, heedless of swords and arrows. >Even the uruk-hai, whose language is so foul and dark that it can >make ill some creatures of light and beauty, retch and scream and >weep at the horror of it. Harlock looks queasy, but steps toward Saruman's shrinking form. *All ashore what's going ashore! Methinks I can handle this, but the fewer distractions, the better.* > "Fall back!" Morgan shouts, using her magic to amplify her voice to >be heard by all friendlies over the din. As she takes her husband's >hand, she throws an anti-magic screen over him to protect him from >the foul waves coming off the soon-to-be-former Ringwraith. "Anyone >else need cover?" she adds as they all exit the courtyard for the >snow-covered slopes. As they exit the courtyard, the heroes notice that the dreadful sound has cut off, though waves of indescribable evil still wash over them at irregular intervals. Looking back, they see the Bard, now alone in the middle of the courtyard, his spine as rigid as an iron rod as he gestures with both hands. His hair is slick with sweat as he sends another message out. *Go! I can contain the storm within the courtyard for the nonce.* > As the heroes reach a safe distance, they are witness to a >strange, amazing explosion, as the darkness bursts from the top of >the mountain like a rocket, following the remains of the Bridge like >a reverse contrail and vanishing in a fashion similar to the apex of >the construct. An instant later, the Callahanians and allies are >treated to a sight that explains the mountain's name, as >Glittertinden is crowned by the sun's light and spills every color of >the rainbow about it in a brilliant display. Erindrea shrieks "daddy, NO!" Then, very faintly, as from a great distance: *Umph. Wasteland all around. Methinks this be other than Scandanavia. Keep a candle burning, good gentles, it might take me a while to get back...* > For a moment, all present see (or at least think they see) another >castle atop the mountain, a thing of ephemeral beauty and fairy tale >spires, Glamour and fantasy made manifest. Then it vanishes to >mundane sight, though mystical senses are still aware of the object. > The war is over. > Gandalf takes a long, deep, relieved breath as Tolwyn impulsively >throws her arms around Marivale and kisses him on the cheek. Marivale preens briefly, then takes Tolwyn's hand and kisses it gently. "A valiant warrior you may be, but I'm afraid it simply wouldn't do. Mumsy would have a fit." =========================== Subject: AAE9: A Reweaving of Loose Threads On Fri, 24 Dec 2004 23:08:06 -0800 Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012334 >On Thu, 23 Dec 2004 02:55:12 -0800 >Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012332 > >>On Wed, 22 Dec 2004 23:40:53 -0800 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012330 >> >> As the heroes reach a safe distance, they are witness to a >>strange, amazing explosion, as the darkness bursts from the top of >>the mountain like a rocket, following the remains of the Bridge like >>a reverse contrail and vanishing in a fashion similar to the apex of >>the construct. An instant later, the Callahanians and allies are >>treated to a sight that explains the mountain's name, as >>Glittertinden is crowned by the sun's light and spills every color >>of the rainbow about it in a brilliant display. > >Erindrea shrieks "daddy, NO!" > >Then, very faintly, as from a great distance: *Umph. Wasteland all >around. Methinks this be other than Scandanavia. Keep a candle >burning, good gentles, it might take me a while to get back...* *Will a dimensional transponder do?* Rolessar replies wryly. *We've got to head back to Champions Island, but we'll keep something lit for you to help you find your way back.* >> For a moment, all present see (or at least think they see) >>another castle atop the mountain, a thing of ephemeral beauty and >>fairy tale spires, Glamour and fantasy made manifest. Then it >>vanishes to mundane sight, though mystical senses are still aware of >>the object. >> The war is over. >> Gandalf takes a long, deep, relieved breath as Tolwyn impulsively >>throws her arms around Marivale and kisses him on the cheek. > >Marivale preens briefly, then takes Tolwyn's hand and kisses it >gently. > "A valiant warrior you may be, but I'm afraid it simply wouldn't >do. Mumsy would have a fit." Tolwyn rolls her eyes and sighs, but she's still smiling (albeit indulgently). "In every cosm I have ever visited, men are the same: their egos make them think a woman's affection is an invitation to commitment, and their fear sends them fleeing from the delusion." She winks at him. "You _are_ cute, though." [ed note: Post continues in Chapter 22, with the stuff that happens after the team returns to Champions Island.] =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9: A Reweaving of Loose Threads On Mon, 27 Dec 2004 01:23:51 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012336 >On Fri, 24 Dec 2004 23:08:06 -0800 >Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012334 > >>Erindrea shrieks "daddy, NO!" >> >>Then, very faintly, as from a great distance: *Umph. Wasteland all >>around. Methinks this be other than Scandanavia. Keep a candle >>burning, good gentles, it might take me a while to get back...* > > *Will a dimensional transponder do?* Rolessar replies wryly. >*We've got to head back to Champions Island, but we'll keep something >lit for you to help you find your way back.* *Umm...an I can find a dimension where technology works as it should, aye. Right now...I am having...a hard time...finding my way...back to...ah! Faerun at last! I'll need an hour or two to clear my inbox, as 'twere, but then I can find my own way to your Isle.* >>Marivale preens briefly, then takes Tolwyn's hand and kisses it >>gently. >> "A valiant warrior you may be, but I'm afraid it simply wouldn't >>do. Mumsy would have a fit." > > Tolwyn rolls her eyes and sighs, but she's still smiling (albeit >indulgently). "In every cosm I have ever visited, men are the same: >their egos make them think a woman's affection is an invitation to >commitment, and their fear sends them fleeing from the delusion." She >winks at him. "You _are_ cute, though." Marivale's smile turns wry. "You obviously haven't met Mumsy. 'Tis not fear of commitment that has kept me from the altar thus far, 'tis fear of her reaction." (OOC: well, that and the fact that he tends to be an arrogant son-of-a...snob. The attitude doesn't sit well with most people, female or otherwise. Of course, being as arrogant as he is, he totally dismisses that factor. ) ===========================