==========oOo========== NEVERWINTER NEWS Issue # 148 Week Ending 8-26-96 ==========oOo========== *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* FRONT PAGE *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Congratulations to SOM Talia for winning last week's News of the Realm contest for her story entitled "Fireside Chat with Talia". SOM Talia has earned the choice of 4 Pearls or Access to the GOH (Guild of Heroes). Keep up the good work! ;D <><><><><> <><><><><> Congratulations to the teams of: Abzzcesse & SK Rustic Sagx & Vet Vic Who each were able to assist Lord Nasher today by discovering the Oracle and listening to his vision of the future. Check the STORMBRINGERS! folder for his tale and perhaps theirs! For their quick wits and assistance, they each win 15 pearls and 2 free hours! Also.. congratulations to ITB Onyx and to S0l Shugar who each win 5 pearls for their excellent roleplaying during the quest! Well done all ;D Regards, NW Events <><><><><> <><><><><> WWAI AUGUST FINALS First---Darkthane---25 pearls and 4 free hours Second--Gherkin II---20 pearls and 3 free hours Third--Sylphee--15 pearls ane 2 free hours Lou Welch1---5 pearl roll off winner -- NW Ulfius <><><><><> <><><><><> Location Hunt - 8/19 The results from the location hunt held on the 19th of August. The winner is: DemonL0rd who wins 4 pearls for finding the location as per the clue given. -Ulfy <><><><><> <><><><><> Magic Missle Booth Results - 8/22 9pm est Participants/individual scores: Lrd Raz0r / 24 30 21 LDT Razer / 22 19 20 Kh0lari / 22 17 21 LoveUnholy / 18 30 22 K1ng K0bra / 21 22 16 Qataclysm / 19 22 26 SOL Trance / 21 18 25 Vilanne / 22 24 21 Abzzcesse / 19 26 20 Aurela / 16 18 21 Delrond / 20 18 22 Sara Sedai / 26 25 26 *winner Jonah Tyr / 18 18 20 Delracnid / 20 20 25 Westwind28 / 18 20 22 Overall winner: Sara Sedai with 77 hp total Prize: 4 pearls and 1 hr online time There ya'll go.. :) Hobbsie <><><><><> <><><><><> *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* NEVERWINTER CALENDAR *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Keep an eye peeled for those Mini-Booths because they will appear when you least expect in different areas of the Realms! Can you be at the right place at the right time when the NW calls for a location? Keep your eyes and ears open for these events! Watch for the banners! <><><><><> <><><><><> New Player Tours: Join the following staff members for a tour of the Realm: August 25th Sunday 6:00 PM EDT - with NW Oberon. August 28th Wednesday 11:00 PM EDT - with NW Icarus. August 31st Saturday 3:00 PM EDT - with NW Triel. Those interested in any of these tours should keep an eye out for the banner telling where to meet! ;D <><><><><> <><><><><> The Dance Contest - Part 2 (submitted by: Thorn Hawk) He walked into the tavern to find the place full of people. A drow, her body moving slowly, provocatively, danced half-clad in the center of the room, but what caught the ranger's eye or precisely his ear was the hauntingly seductive music being played and the woman who played it, Luthyen. Thorn Hawk moved to join his sister Lady Ellyn while he watched the drow dance as did every other person in the tavern. He sat drinking a frenzy Cyane had poured for him thinking of whether Luthyen would dance this eve. He had hoped she would, but knew that she rarely danced for others. She danced when her emotions drove her and for no other reason. As the song and dance ended to the drow doing the splits and a feverish round of applause from the many men in the tavern, Luthyen approached Thorn Hawk and found a chair next to him. "Who's next?" called Cyane sitting on the bar. "I am," replied Luthyen taking a drink of Thorn Hawk's frenzy. Shocked, surprised and delighted, Thorn Hawk watched as Luthyen moved to the center of the floor. She stood there motionless for many minutes until the crowd could hear her humming and still she didn't move. Suddenly, her overbodice disappeared revealing a sleeveless blouse as she began to sway to the time of music that sprang to life around the tavern. The lights of the tavern had dimmed and changed color while she stood there. As she danced around the room slowly at first, Thorn Hawk found his eyes drawn to hers and the room faded from view, the voices dwindled to a mere whisper. His world revolved around her dance and nothing else. She moved through the room sometimes slowly, often at a quick pace, her legs flashing as her shimmering green skirt rose each time she spun or kicked out with a leg. Finally, she came to rest in front of the ranger her hands placed on his shoulders as she looked deep within his eyes. Grabbing her around the waist, he tossed her high into the air gazing at her spinning form until she came to rest at his feet, kneeling. Reaching out with his hand, he marveled at her beauty and grace. Coming into his arms smelling of roses and summer rain, he whispered in her ear, " melamin, I love thee." "And I you, milord," she replied breathlessly. As he kissed her, the sounds of clapping and calls for less clothing intruded into his thoughts again. Her hand in his, he sat content knowing the dance was for him and none other. Thorn Hawk, Luthyen's ranger. Brotherhood of PathfindersThe Dance Contest - Part 3 (submitted by: Luthyen) Luthyen shook out her arms, tingling from playing the music for Dhaunae's dance at Cyane's Dance competition. She could still feel the sensual beat of the Drow music, making her heart beat fast and her mouth dry. She took a deep drink of the Frenzy and looked around at the audience. Spedlestor and Delracnid were frantically scribbling on their parchment, to hold up their ratings of Dha's dance. High numbers..but Luthyen wasnt dancing for numbers, or to compete, really. She was dancing because Thorn wanted her to. And she wanted to dance for him. Stepping to the center of the cleared space, she smiled at Cyane as the lighting changed. Then she began to hum and then sing wordlessly. As she danced, those present saw the images her movements and music expressed. She started with a Drow tune. Heavy with the Tones of the Underdark, it brought Gambit to mind. The Elfstone flashed ruby as she danced her sorrow at his loss. The Ruby glow faded, and she danced grief for a few measures. She danced aloneness.. Then her melody changed, and she danced a lighter tune..for forests, and streams, and mountains. The tune of a Ranger of Meilikki, slightly martial, honorable, filled with wonder at the wild places of the world. Her movements became lighter, and quick, reflecting her joy at her new friend. The Elfstone sparkled with tones of blue and green. Her green gown shimmered as she moved. Luthyen looked at Thorn, and her tune changed once again. The watchers could see springtime and blosseming trees, and the faint scent of apple blossems filled the tavern. Cyane breathed deep and smiled. Spedlestor beat on the table and called for more skin, but Luthyen was oblivious. Her eyes were for Thorn, and her movements quickened now, reflecting her deepening feelings. Sensations of a breeze from a lake passed thru the tavern, reflected in her flashing limbs, and images of a single white lilly came to mind. She whirled about, and her skirt flared above her slender knees. Her bare arms and shoulders brought whistles from the onlookers. She heard them not. Smiling at Thorn Hawk, she danced to him and leaped up, hands light on his shoulders. He caught her, and lifted her up, whirled around, bringing her down then throwing her high in the air. Eyes only on each other, they danced together with movements that bespoke an end to lonliness and finding a kindred spirit. She whirled around him, hips and shoulders swaying, then finished with a graceful curtsey to the floor, looking up at the final note to see him looking at her, eyes full of love. He gently lifted her from the floor and seated her at the table, holding the mug of Frenzy for her to drink deeply. Gathering her in his arm, he whispered softly in her ear. Across the tavern, the audience were holding up their rankings. Not as high as Dha's ...but Luthyen didn't care. She had danced her heart. It was what she had come to do.Top Ten (submitted by: Wgbt) Yes, another Lateshow with Wagebolt of the Winterguard! Ah yes, the NW Tours, a good way for Neverwinter's young folk to find out more and more about the world before them! But wouldn't it be nice if things were made a little more interesting by the guides? Yes, Today! From the home-office in the house of the Lost Hills is... TOP TEN SIGNS YOU TOUR GUIDE IS NUTS ARE IF HE/SHE: 10)Carries Hedge-Clippers + 3 9)Wears a monicle, Pointed Helmet, and carries a riding crop. Then Goosesteps while leading the tour. 8)Claims to have found proof of alien life in Red Larch 7)Forces everybody to wash their hands before they leave 6)Insists that, at the Dracs, doing the "Hustle" helps your saves against drac stares. 5)Holds the tour in Neverwinter city 4)Has seen Elvis' ghost at the X-Gate Dracs 3)Ties the showlases of Newbies together, to keep them alert. 2)Eats an Arch-deluxe in place of drinking a Potion of Strength 1)Insists on touring the sewers wearing *only* your badges ::Throws blue index card out the window:: (WorldWide Plate) "Wherefore art thou Platemail?" A Rose for the Earl - Part 3 (submitted by: Ldy Graye) ......As the night worn on, Johan cast spell upon spell, trying to keep Melody and his child alive. Yet, each spell seemed to run out faster and faster and with it, the Earl's strength. Melody seemed to ebb from unconscious slumber to fitful awareness. The birthing already began to take its toll. She was as pale white as the Kindred and her veins pulsated through her translucent skin. Her lips were cracked and bloody. She already sweat through three bed changes. Johan kept watch as his wife struggle with their child. Between spells he changed wet sheets or covered her shaking body, with supplies the servants brought him. Rhinard would appear every so often to check the progress, but it was early into the next day and still the baby had not moved. Soon the Council members began to arrive. CzJ was the first one in and made preparations for the others. "It won't be long 'til ye have relief. They come as far as their wings will carry them... some faster than that..." CzJ's was still troubled. "I would be honored if ye would allow me to cast the next set of incantations ." Johan nodded, gratefull for the aid. Melody began to rustle in the bed. The Earl stood as it was time CzJ cast again. Their approach towards the bed caused CzJ to gasped loudly. He could not help himself. "My Lord, is she still alive?" Coldly, the Earl replied. "Aye. Just cast." CzJ could not believe what he saw; never had he seen such a look of death in a living person. It was hard to believe just hours before they were walking outside. CzJ cast and, once again he gasped, but it was not for what he saw but what he felt. As he cast upon Mel, it was like the spell was actually drawn out of him--pulled from his very core of his strength. "Io's Blood!" he exclaimed to the Earl. "How did you manage like that, for so long?" The Earl just shrugged, too tired to answer. Should the bronze had found himself in such a position, he would know the answer... Meenman was the first to arrive; the Council rushed in, soon after. The dragons entered in their human forms. Red Rianna was first, the most familar with the route to Castle Graye, her red gown dusting over the floor. Shiver Hel raced in quickly thereafter, matched by LunarSword. The dark elf form worn by Shiver was a study of disconcern. Perhaps his stories of lacking a soul were true. Lunar, in contrast, was a both fitful and worried. Wht Leopard, the talented brass warrior, Lord Jim and his new wife Ariel, Lady Kaylen, Reklaive the Golden, Fang dragon Arlon Tri, Grandlord of the Chromatics Gold Fire, Odinsun and Santee, and even Bloodeyes--in clean clothes--poured into the Castle. Santee, the big ranger,whispered to Shiver... "Sad to meet thee again, under these terms... How does she fare?" Shiver, grinning a bit, squinted his violet eyes. "Her daughter shall be the most extraordinary dragon this plane has ever known... Ask Odin. He'll know I speak the truth." "And the Lady?" "I wouldn't let her die any more than the Earl would. Trust me, I have some experience in death, Santee." The dark elf turned back to his friend, the Lady Graye, looking assured of the outcome. It wasn't hope, but knowledge. They even tried casting onto the baby to make it rotate but to no avail. The baby just took the magic and made no effort to move. They relieved the Earl from casting, each in their turn. He still sat there as the night wore on, just holding her hand, praying to every god he knew or ever met. They found that with every spell they cast the drain became more and the spell wore off quicker. Rhinard felt this was a sign that the babe was getting stronger and, if anything, it was a good sign for the child but not so good for his struggling mother. By dawn Melody had deteriorated to the point of unconscious. She had not opened her eyes in over two hours. Rhinard finished examining her in the light of the new day. "The baby has rotated enough. It is in the birth canal, but it has taken too long and Melody is too weak to deliver". The Earl smiled weakly, holding Melody's slack hand. "Leave it to a child of hers to be so stubborn." The weary Council members smiled in their agreement. Meenman walked up and placed his hand on the Earl's shoulders. "I feel we need to take drastic measures and quickly to save both Mel and the child. We have no choice. Mel is too weak and the babe too young. You all will have to work together with everything you have in one shot. The new day brings new power for most of you so upon the morn you should select your spells quickly, memorize what Rhinard tells you and return here." Rhinard began to tell each of them what they needed to memorize... invocations like strength and enlarge, to necromantic healing magics. When she was done, she explained the plan. They were to divide into four groups. One group would be for the babe when it was born; CzJ found himself in that group. The next group was to support Melody during delivery, the third group was to bring forth the child, and the last group was to support Mel after the birth. Rhinard ended with one note of warning... "The most important thing you have to do is cast together, full strength. Anything less will not do." (TBC)The Tale of Injurd Man (submitted by: Injurd Man) Vendui' ;> For I am InjuredMan; The Keeper of the EverLasting FEEB ;> An outcast, a lone adventurer, and a crippled mutant of my race..... As a young elven male I was teased and taunted by my fellow clan members. Elders whispered about me in gatherings.... outcast him...for he is not one of us. Masters, in the different Arts, would have students attack me whenever I was caught peering into the Temples, trying to catch an eye of what they were doing. Children would laugh and throw rocks as I passed. Even my own family could not deal with the embarrassment I was bringing upon them...... My darkest nightmare then came true....The Clan gathered....The Elders went into the High Temple.... and my fate was made......no ceremony....no feast...nothing. Stripped of all my belongings, I was bound, blindfolded, and gagged. A group of warriors were mounted and packed, ready to take me to my final resting place...... I still have the vision of that day embedded in my mind, for I saw no sorrow in anyone's eyes, It was more of a devillish gleam. A happiness of killing a creature that the Gods had sent upon them in anger. As I was dragged out of the village..... They chanted......words that I no longer remember.... and in a language that I have long forgotten...... In a painless state; cold, numb, and kind of a floating feeling.......I tried to open my eyes. Not having any strength ...I could only open one eye. The vision was foggy and very dimlit. But above me stood a paleskined figure...a creature that I had faintly heard tales of, A Human. It knelt down beside me and uttered words that I could not understand. In fear I tried to move....but only trembles went thru my limbs. I tried to speak out....but only a gargling sound came out. I was lifeless....Dead to my clan....My fate had been finished out...Sacrificed to please the angried Gods..... and the light went black....... In a shudder, my body started to jerk.......my weakened muscles tensed and sprang me upwards. Ahhhh... the Human spoke out from across the room. You have awoken. Its pale figure came towards me....holding food and beverage. I reached my hands towards the delights, not yet knowing what my 'eye' would see. My skin! The pigment was more of a blackish shade, much darker than my deepest memories could remember. My fingers! No longer having ten, but that did not matter. They were mangled, unabled to straighten them....In shock I looked up at the Human.... Speaking to Him in a language that I had never learned........"What has happened to me"......I cried, with burning tears and flames in my throat. My people had made me worse than I was. For now, not only did I have one leg, but also crippled arms with fingers that would not bend open, one eye that teared a liqiud that could melt thru platinum. The only blessing that I could see in the shiny piece of glass, was that the growth on my back that I was born with had been, what seemed removed, was no longer there. I sitting up straight with no problem. I lifted my head upwards, gazed at the Human. " Sir, who are you? and why did you bring me here?" He spoke....his voice more calming now. "I am Lord Nasher. Mayor of NeverWinter, a town that lies in the center of the Realms Of NeverWinter. My assistants found your body on the edge of my most Northern boundry. They sent word for me to come and look at you. Seeing that you were near death, but young and with a strong aura about you. I had them carry you back here to my Palace. With the powers and magic of my greatest priests and magicans, they were able to bring you back to life and mend your wounds. I have some of my finest tradesmen working on armor and devices to help and aid you with your impairments." But why Sir?.... I was meant to die........The Gods of my clan destined my fate for me.....How can you do this? Alter what I was born with. "You are needed in My Realms!.....And this is part of your fate! If it was not, You would not have been left near My Realms alive!" His voice was stern, yet comforting. He clapped his hands and motioned to the guards at the door of the room. The doors opened, standing there with a wooden chair that had wheels, were two short, stocky, bearded figures."Come foward" Lord Nasher said to them. They picked up my body as if I were a feather and placed me in the chair. Showing me that with my arms and hands I could make the chair move kinda like a horse drawn wagon. From their backs, they remove a pack each and placed them within reach of my hands on the back of the chair. Lord Nasher walked throw the doorway......I heard his voice call out. Then before my eye stood two brightly clothed females carrying clothing and armors. They stood me up and aided in my dressing. The clothes were smoother than a gentle breeze and the armor just as light. I was seated back into the chair and pushed down a long hallway into a wonderfully decorated throne room. Sitting in a shining jeweled covered throne was Lord Nasher. "My child" Lord Nasher said unto me. "From this day fourth I give you a new name... You will be called Injurd Man". "And I offer to you a new clan, One of the finest Guilds in My Realms, Bregan D'Aerth. Come foward InjurdMan"...... I pushed myself towards him in the chair. As I approached him, I noticed four dark skined figures with white hair, approaching Lord Nasher also. They peered at my weakened body and then turned to Lord Nasher.... "Vendui' " they spoke. Lord Nasher replied back to them and bowed his head slightly "Vendui'. " He than started to introduce me to the men. Begining with the most powerful looking one. "Kh0lari......Jabbuk del Bregan D'Aerth, Sylverion......Streeka Velve del Jabbuk, Abzzsta1n......Ultrin Zhaunil, Delrachnid.....Kabal Abbil." He then stepped down from his throne and walked in front of the four men. "I called for you and offer unto your Guild InjurdMan. A men with deep strength and powers, look beyond his flesh and into his Soul. For he has overcome a journey that only a few have taken and he is the only to survive. My assistants have prepared him for the journey he must start now and my tradesmen have outfitted him with the tools and armor he will need. Watch over him if you must, but take my word in time this man will help in your quests and carry out the Honor of your Guild name 'Bregan D'Aerth'." The four figures turned towards, and with sneered smiles on thier faces said... "Vendui' Bro' ." A feeling of warmth ran thru my body and thoughts thru my head.... "Bro' " A word that I never dreamed I would ever hear or ever know, but at that moment I knew the meaning and the powerful feeling that it had...........Enter Syn (submitted by: ITB Synah) The ITB initiate known as Synah had been observing the OGS camp for some time now, hiding well within the shadows, overhearing the frightened conversations and arguments. Her assignment was to get information for the Grandmaster of Bondage, and return within two weeks. Synah's time was now almost up, and she knew she must take a more direct approach to get anything usefull. Hiding within the shadows lurking outside the camp had provided some mildly usefull information, but nothing of any real importance. Synah needed - wanted - to impress Skorp and Myst, proving to them her worth. She now moved to impliment her plan B. Synah reached into her pack, and pulled out a long blue velvet dress, the fanciest lace trimming the bodice, covering just enough to be decent. Synah worked quickly, braiding and pinning up her long blonde hair, curling some tendrils of hair to frame her face, doing her best to look the part of a "lady." The thought was, in itself, rather foreign to Synah, but for ITB, she must try. Looking into a mirror she had brought along, Synah sighed at her reflection. She did look the part of a "goodie." Now, if only she could convince her target. Synah had watched the camp for weeks now, and knew their routine perfectly. When the dinner bells chimed, the guards would always gather to decide who was to eat first, and who would be required to wait. This evening, when the bells chimed, Synah slipped into the camp, acting like she belonged there. People glanced at her, some thinking she was a visiting TP, some thinking she was a visiting SOL (heaven forbid!), but none really showed much concern. Her plan was working flawlessly and she set out to find her "target", the young paladin she had seen going in and out of PolarOrbit's tent. Synah approached him shyly, asking with her eyes cast downward if he would accompany her to dinner. Synah knew he would say yes, for the man she had watched had wooed many a woman in the camp over the last few days. Men such as this were always so predictable. The two had a tolerable dinner as far as Synah was concerned, the man spent more time looking at her cleavage than at his dinner plate. After their evening meal, Synah suggested a walk in the nearby woods, and she cringed as she took his arm and allowed him to walk with her. She had to bite her lip when the bold man slipped his arm around her waist. She needed information!! She could endure this goodie's touch as long as she got the needed information!! Synah casually turned the conversation to recent events, inquiring as to what he thought would happen, and what he thought the leaders next moves would be. The paladin, totally blinded by what he thought was an admiring young woman hanging on his every word, started to talk about how he was a trusted advisor, and how he saw many of the messages from the network of spies throughout the realms, and even showed her one message he had to deliver to a spy later that night. In his own way he was trying to calm the fears of what he thought was a concerned lady. He was wrong - and Synah smiled. Her mission would be a success. The paladin suddenly pulled Synah close to him, kissing her softly and gently touching her hair with one hand, while his other hand moved to her bodice. Synah smiled at the paladin, and mischieveously pulled up her dress a bit and then pressed herself against the man, enduring more of his passionate kisses. She broke her lips off of his, and whispered into his ear "I want your heart my dear. Such lust is a sin, and I must have your heart first." The paladin, willing to give the woman anything to have his way with her, horsely whispered "You already have it my love!" Synah then withdrew the dagger she had strapped to her upper thigh, and held it to the man's throat. The paladin stumbled back in fear, but Synah was too quick for him as she deftly sliced off his left hand - the hand that had once tried to undo her bodice now laid in a pool of blood, the nerves still firing causing the fingers to curl and uncurl before it finally fell motionless. The man fell back on the ground, holding his arm in pain, when Synah kicked the man in the face. Now helpless, he could now only look up at Synah, imploring her for mercy. Synah stood above the man, her hair fell around her shoulders wildly. The woman stradled the man, and ran her dagger across his throat, not deep enough to kill him, just deep enough to cause severe pain. Synah then smiled seductively at the man as she undid the buttons on his shirt. Running the dagger down his chest, leaving a trail of blood behind, she whispered only loud enough for the doomed paladin to hear. "I must have your heart, we must be one." She then drug her dagger deeper into the mans chest, shoving his shirt into his mouth to gag his pleas for mercy, only stopping her incision when she reached the waist of his pants. Synah then reached into the warm body, quickly grabbed the beating heart, and ripped it free just in time to display it to the paladin before he closed his eyes for all eternity. Synah could feel the shadows close in on her, but she welcomed them. Shadows could be helpfull, especially if they were helping in the destruction of ITB's enemies. Synah could feel the power in the darkness. Quickly Synah made her way to her camp, stopping along the way to jump into the river to scrub off the blood that had earlier bathed her. She enjoyed the way the red fluid felt upon her body, but feared such an appearance would shock her new brothers and sisters. Synah swiftly dressed, and went to the pot she had on the fire. Synah ate her evening snack, and smiled wickedly as she downed the last morsel of food. It was amusing to her - even the goodie's hearts tasted sweet. Synah and the paladin's heart were now one - it had provided a wonderful meal to the young ITB. Laughing, Synah raced through the dark woods, back to the ITB compound to deliver the information she had gathered. She hoped Skorp and Myst would be pleased. Synah -the one your mother warned you about-~Domestic Arts~ (submitted by: Veridienne) Veridienne ran to her room, holding her skirt together. She called a banshee and snarled at her, "those cursed males... why will they insist on ripping my skirt and peeking?" as she held up her arms and waited for it to remove her dress. "M'lllllady?" the banshee replied, pulling the dress over her head, ripping it slightly as she drew it over her shoulders. She spun and slapped the banshee hard, bringing a shriek from it. "At least they didn't do it in front of mortals.. or did they? I have enough trouble with them as it is. And stop that wailing." Once it was off she sat examining the dress, a patchwork of black rags and tatters, faded finery, rips and shreds, barely held together by her careful needlework. Sorting through an old case in the corner, she found more shreds of material and patched the large new hole, and the parts where the material was growing transparent with wear. "This will hardly last much longer," she muttered to the banshee. "Now put it back on me, and don't rip it this time!" The banshee nodded and carefully dressed her. "What shall I do for a new dress?" she asked the banshee, and opened her bag. The banshee was gone for a moment, and returned holding a white garment. "Oh, very good... I do have another dress, don't I?" Veri said, as she took the wedding dress from her. This dress, too, was all tattered, but it was all antique lace and chiffon rather than velvet and silk like the other dress. She held the dress up and examined the way she had put it together, the uneven hem, low neckline, its faint mildewy scent. "Yes I suppose I could wear this one, for awhile, if it doesn't get too ripped," she said to the banshee, "but I don't really like wearing white..." "Dyyyyyyyye..." the banshee whispered. "Well I'm certainly not going to go out picking berries," she frowned at the banshee. The banshee went to Veri's pack and pulled out the slight form of Mmme Feline, dead just a few hours, and made a cutting notion across the neck. Veri brightened and took the pretty young girl's body from the banshee. "Yes, the blood will do nicely I think, if this one has not enough, there is always that drow male as well ... find me a large container then, big enough to hold this dress and enough blood to cover it." She set the corpse in a chair quickly before her hands had enough time to impart a chill to it. The banshee flew from the room and she smiled at the corpse in the chair. "Would you like some tea, dear?" she said to it, and started giggling. "Maybe Litmia's right, I am twisted..." she took out the male, whose name she didn't even remember, and sat him on the bed. "Sorry you didn't get the torture you asked for," she smiled at him, "I'm afraid your death was mercifully quick," she giggled as she remembered being screamed at for slaying a squire's meat, and the ensuing argument about whether the squire should feeb her or not. The banshee came back with a large cherrywood tub, encrusted with fungus. "Where did you get this?" Veri asked her, looking at it. It was slightly damp, as if it had just been washed out after a recent use. The banshee smiled and shook her head. "You're not going to tell me? Oh well, just make sure you clean it out WELL after... or find someone else who can if you can't handle it." The banshee nodded and indicated the bodies. "Morrrrrrre?" "No, I'm afraid I ate the others," Veri shrugged as she picked up the dress and put it in the tub, placing it under a large hook in the ceiling. "I was awfully hungry. Would you get that chain out of my bag?" The banshee brought the chain and floated up to attach one end to the hook on the ceiling. "Good," Veri nodded at her. "Hmm, let's do the girl first." The banshee brought her the corpse, fastening the chain around the ankles so it hung upside down above the tub. Veri took out a razor blade made careful incisions at the neck, wrists and behind the knees, watching the blood begin to drip on her dress. She frowned at the slowness of it. "Should we do both at once?" she said to the banshee, looking at the male, larger and fresher. With a clanking and rattling, the banshee was at her side with another chain, fastening it to the same hook. Together, they hung the drow up and made similar incisions. The bodies hung against each other, rotating in a slight breeze from the dark window, slowly dripping the blood into the tub. Veridienne looked at the bodies and the dripping, trying to determine the time it would take, and floated to the door to go out hunting for the night. It was several days before she returned to the castle, dragging her kills behind her. The business of collecting souls had been going very well until she made that awful mistake, and since then she had barely been able to focus on anything but her punishments. She wondered if she would ever be able to clear her name. She made her sacrifices at the altar, feeling slightly guilty, she felt she didn't really belong, and kept wondering when she would be told to leave, that she didn't deserve her knighthood. She drifted slowly, sadly up the stairs. Still no word from Wraithy. And she searched for him, sent messages with no response. He had promised to make her suffer, but what he could do to her was nothing compared to the way she felt not knowing if he was hers. Once in her room, she checked on the progress of her wedding dress. The bodies had stopped dripping, and it seemed as if the blood had soaked well into the material. She hung it up by the window to dry, and turned her attention once again to her old black dress. She had to remove this accursed scarlet letter, it irritated her to no end. Carefully picking out the threads with a razor blade, she reflected on what she had done, and having to explain this letter to everyone who asked. She could understand those who asked if she was sorry for doing it, but those who insisted on exclaiming to her over the unfairness of her punishments mystified her. Of course she would take any punishment her husband deemed necessary if it meant absolution. And whether there truly was dishonor in kissing another, of this she had no doubt, or she would not have burst into tears at the moment the kiss was over. As for her reasons... people looked at her, not understanding that she had just barely become a woman when she died, and that her passions still raged within her, almost uncontrollably at times. The hatred she felt, the desire to destroy the flesh, this was the strongest, but there were also other passions that she usually contained. She knew where she had made the mistake, in allowing the vampire to touch her in the first place. Perhaps she should not even have been alone with him. Coming out of her reverie, she finished removing the careful, tight stitches which held the letter, and turned the dress over to fix the back. The longest strips, which tickled her back when she moved, had already been sliced off. She had decided there was no point in wearing dresses with a back; they always got torn into pieces when she was whipped. She carefully cut the rest of the material there out and hemmed around it. As always, there were places where the threads were decaying or the fabric was wearing thin, so she did some more patching, using the clothes of her victims. Hopefully it would hold out until the other dress dried off. Veridienne UDL Eternal SuffererUpstarts with Odd Parts - Part 2 (submitted by: SOL Bard) Just what is a MECH, there are some who might ask Is it an automaton to run a simple quaint task? Or might it just be, there is oh-so-much more For a cyborg related to a refrigerator door Perhaps it may be they could work in a bar To pour out a drink, if it isn't too far For their rubbery tracks often get caught on wood And they frequently fall from where they formerly stood It could just be they might gather up trash But even that move may yet prove to be rash For they might weep and could rust as they collect the cans And discover a bod from one of their robotic clans Diswashing is out, for they rust much too easy And serving food's tough, for they're often too greasy I guess we could use them as slot machines Or as worthy attendants in the public latrines There are many more uses for this robotic breed Especially when one looks at their upspoken creed They say, "we will not run from a guild or a clan" Unless they hold firm a church key in either hand..." Well my SOL brothers have asked I help start a war With the clunky MECH guild like I did once before As they take aim with their lasers at my body and soul I can say least ways I'm not piecemeal, I'm human, I'm whole!! Now one MECH is mouthy of which I find odd For how can he speak with an aluminum bod He claims he can ration and reason without verse But his LOGIC is flawed, tis a fact it's much worse The name you have chosen is a misnomer friend And the reasoning you use has no rational end It is easy to see you've a circuit or two That perhaps needs some solder or at least needs some glue You say weak and emotional as your gears click and whirr But I put it to you you're a mechanical cur Whose lack of good taste is a mechanical fault And of whose bio-tech bod I will bring a quick halt As your nuts and your bolts do spill out on the ground While your pepsi can head is rotating around Your functions will cease with this one final thought That this one final last battle that you shouldn't have fought Could it be that the IQ of our metal head friends Is quite a bit lower than their iron shod ends? Or did my coarse verse cause them to freeze up their gears And set them right down on their rust bucket rears? "To War" they did cry, but what a sorry response Is it true that your brains fit in an extra small sconse? I do offer forth boards from old 386 That might boost your IQ's so SOL can get it's war kicks Our WAR CRY is clear as you see in these posts But will you reply or are you bionic ghosts? Perhaps we did choose off the wrong group from the start Or maybe your guild is refitting at the local "Pick-a-Part" SOL Bard Warrior Poet Scrap dealer The Story of Cyrana (submitted by: V L1ly) A young woman sat near the fire, her sapphire eyes sparkling and reflecting the warm orange glow of the hearth. Her skin was a creamy alabaster, her hair black as night, and even though she looked young, everyone around her knew that she was far older than her appearance let on. Liah came and sat down in the chair next to her, letting out a long sigh, mumbling about how chaotic this night had been. The young woman looked up at her, her eyes piercing straight to the soul. She spoke to Liah, her voice soft and melodic, almost entrancing in its beauty, "Would you like to hear a story?" Liah smiled slightly, and nodded, wondering why this woman was talking to her. "Would you like to hear a story of a green dragon... An undead writer... Or a beautiful, yet cursed, songstress?" Liah grinned, and responded quickly, "The green dragon." The young woman nodded, and folded her hands in her lap. She paused for a moment, gazing into the fire, and then looked back up at Liah, and her story began. "In a place whose name is not important, and yet was very like this, a dragon broke free of the shell that had kept it captive for so long. It peeked its small head out, and found itself in a clearing, soft dewy grass beneath her, and tall, majestic trees all around her. And yet, she was alone in the clearing. Instincts demanded that there be others like her around, and she wandered off in search of them. She pressed through the forest, and heard a faint tinkling, and laughter, and music. She headed towards the sounds, and found a ring of wagons, encircling a fire. Men, women, and children gathered around the fire, all of them had amazing eyes, dark hair, and dark skin... The women dressed in colorful skirts, and moved with an entrancing grace. The men were handsome, and some played instruments, providing a beat for this exotic dance. Cyrana watched entranced, as the people continued to dance around and around the fire, but the reverie was broken when she heard a sound behind her, and turned to find a young boy, his eyes filled with wonder and amazement. She glanced back at the people dancing, and noticed all of them were showing their teeth, and they seemed to be happy... So Cyrana, tried to smile, baring her razor sharp teeth. The boy screamed, terror replacing the wonder in his eyes. The dance and the music stopped abruptly and people ran to see what was wrong. They started throwing stones at her, yelling at her in a tongue she didn't understand, she ran away from them, confused and hurt. She returned to the clearing where she was born, and began to look around, not knowing what she was searching for. She searched in trees, and under them, in the grass, until in a hollow beneath an ancient oak tree, she found a collection of books. Delicately, she opened the cover on one of them, and found that she could understand what was written within. As she grew older, and had commited everything in those books to her memory, she took to the skies, leaving behind the clearing that she had called home for so long. She saw a city, surrounded by high walls of gray stone. She landed outside the city, making sure that no one spotted her. With the mastery of magic those books had given her, it was a simple task to change form, and that is what she did. She became one of the women from her memory, so many years ago. She walked into the city, and was surprised that all the males were turning their heads, watching her as she walked past. With another swiftly uttered spell, she began to comprehend what these strange people were saying, and found that she felt at home here, like she belonged. Cyrana spent many years among humans, learning their ways, learning to love the things they did. But she also learned that people called her a witch, when she never aged a day, and they would grow old and die. So she took to the habit of spending nary a decade in each place, moving from here to there, in what she felt was a blink of the eye, because dragons are so long lived. In one town, as she walked through the open market, a thief ran up to take her purse. As he reached for the purse, their eyes met, and both stood, dumbfounded. Cyrana was filled with something that she had never felt before, and it kept her rooted to the ground, too confused and filled with this strange emotion to act, and, it appeared, so was the would-be thief. But, he broke from the strange reverie, and seized her purse, disappearing into the crowd. She gasped for air, unsure of what she was feeling, or why she was feeling it. As she watched the place where he had gone, she knew exactly what she was feeling - the emotion called love. Cyrana returned to the market, day after day, hoping to find a glimpse of the man who had stolen not only her purse, but her heart. One, fine sunshiney day, she was given her wish, as he approached her, and asked her to lunch. The two of them sat and talked, and talked, and talked. They conversed through lunch, and well into the next morning. She learned his name was Darin, and that he had to leave the town at once, because he was wanted for a number of crimes. She took him to the clearing that she had called home, once, that she had prepared in case she ever needed to escape on that day, so long ago, when she had left for the lands of humans. She and Darin lived together in happiness, and love, until one day he asked for her to join him in a handfasting, or a wedding. She could do nothing but agree, and he told her that he would return as soon as he had a ring that was worthy of her beauty. She waited for a week, and then Darin returned. He showed her the ring, a beautifully crafted ring of white gold, set with deep forest green emeralds. As she leaned to kiss him, he cast two spells in quick succession, worry clouding his features. Cyrana disappeared from sight, and found herself unable to move. She watched in confusion, as a glimmering portal appeared at one end of the clearing, and three men stepped out. One of them bore a long, dangerous looking sword, one was dressed in the robes of a mage, and the third was obviously the leader, he was dressed in clothes of red, blue, and black. The leader spoke to Darin, told him that he had stolen from the wrong person. The leader then made a motion with his hand, and the man with the sword stepped forward, and in a swift, smooth motion, beheaded Darin. The leader reached over, and took the ring Darin's hand. He looked to the man in robes, who cast a spell, and the portal reopened. As they left, Darin's magic wore off, and she found herself able to move once more. She gathered her books, and her treasure, and using her magic, followed the traces their spell had left behind. Cyrana found herself here, in Neverwinter, and she began her search for the identity of Darin's killer. Cyrana recruited a friend of hers, Lily, a woman who knew much about prying secrets from their keepers. Lily vowed that she would help Cyrana find the name of the one who had killed Darin. Lily and Cyrana searched high and low, long and hard. Their search was fruitless, until one night, as Lily sat in Mancuso's speaking with the sidhe Kerrg0n, and man she come to hate with the very core of her being, she touched his mind, and ran through his memories. She found, there, the identity of Darin's killer, but knew that his name could never get out. As much as Cyrana was her friend... Lily could not give up the life of one she loved. And so ends the story of Cyrana, and ancient green dragon." The young woman spoke softly, her eyes filled with anguish and sadness. "My name is Lily, that story... is entirely true. Cyrana is a dear friend of mine... but I can't.. _can't_ tell her who killed him." Lily turned to look the fire, her expression becoming distant. Liah rose, speaking softly. "Thank you for that, Lily. It was truly wonderful."To the Surface... (submitted by: Xenobea) For months Xenobea had been at home alone. Her mother had been missing for so long, her sisters were dead, her brothers seemed, for the most part, to be away from the house, her only friend had disappeared. She wasn't even sure what she should be doing. She worked on her clerical studies, did research in the library, and performed daily devotions to Lloth for Xorlarrin. She had a vague feeling she should be doing more, but she was unused to travelling alone, unsure whether it was right to do so at her age, and with things the way they were, she did not want to take any of the house's soldiers with her, so she stayed inside. She received occasional invitations. She had learned not to trust anyone, especially those of other houses, and she was unsure of whether she could behave well enough, so she always refused the invitations, and after a time, they stopped coming. But finally she had had enough of the loneliness. How long could she wait for her family to return? She wanted her mother. She had left no word when she left as to where she was going or when she would be back. Xeno considered sending one of her brothers to look, but she wanted to go somewhere herself. She had tried quietly contacting some in other houses, to discover that no one seemed to know where her mother had gone, so she decided to travel to the surface. In her chamber she put on a new dress. She tucked some magic items and her cloak into a bag. She stood just in front of the obsidian-framed mirror, looked at herself critically in it. She quickly took a last look around her room before she spoke the magic words that would activate the mirror, and teleport her outside the house. Xenobea Xorlarrin Malla Yathrin d'Xorlarrin Dalharil d'LdyMidnigtHow I Met Ernie (submitted by: Talgar) It happened a long time ago. The details of why I was there and what I was looking for is vague and shrouded in the mists of my memory. I remember that I had been nosing around the town of Longsaddle all day. Lord Nasher had asked that I check into some rumors that were floating around. The rumors hinted that Zhentarim had been seen lurking about. Or was it Evil Clerics? I don't recall exactly whom. The hordes of evil-doers, all trying to destroy Neverwinter, tend to blend together after so many years of fighting them. I do remember that I had questioned the folks in the local inn, and some of the shopkeepers, but they all seemed very close-mouthed about any subject except for the quality of the local brew. I even had a few doors slammed in my face, without even a chance to say hello. But, because I was a Paladin of the Protectorate, or because I was just plain pig-headed, I continued to search out clues. It was getting dark, and I was poking around in a section of town that consisted, it seemed, of nothing but abandoned buildings, when I finally stumbled upon something. And stumble I did. Right through the floor of an abandoned building into the basement. Kaphoom!. I lay there in the rubble, and tried to catch my a breath. If you have ever had the breath knocked out of you, by falling flat on your back from one story up, you know how I felt. I gasped and choked and wished that I had worn my armor. Maybe that would have softened the blow. That wish was quickly abandoned when I looked up and saw some creatures moving through the gloom towards me. Driders! And further back, just through a doorway, I could see a Remorahaz! Ugh! They were moving towards me, so I quickly cast a Cloudkill on the closest Driders, to give me time to stand up, and get situated. Good thing, I hadn't worn my armor. I would not have been able to cast so quickly and would just as quickly have been dinner! I lurched to my feet and noticed that the cloud had done better than I thought it would. The first three Driders were poisoned by the cloud and quickly fell over dead. I then cast a Lightning Bolt at the other two monsters and drew my sword to help finish them off, but the sword wasn't needed. Whew. What did I fall into this time, I wondered. For the 50th time that week, I mumbled to myself, "I am getting to old for this kind of excitement". After double-checking that there weren't any more nasty surprises lurking in a dark corner, I looked up at the ruined ceiling and determined, rather quickly, that I wasn't going back out the way I came in. The exit was going to be through the door that the monster's had come in. Oh, well. No one ever said a Paladin's life would be easy. I cast a couple of quick preparation spells, just in case, and moved cautiously through the door. This 'cellar' turned out to be more than just a cellar. I entered a large room dominated by a set of huge doors. I moved to the doors and found that they were not locked. I quietly opened one of the doors and quickly moved inside, closing it behind me. I was in some kind of temple. Rows and rows of wooden pews, stood like soldiers, facing an altar at the far end. I don't know what kind of god they worshipped here, but from the looks of the altar, I was sure I wouldn't like him. After a quick search of the room, I peeked through a door to the left of the altar.This door led to a long hallway. On the other side of the altar was another door, and peeking through that one showed that it also lead down a long hall. Mentally flipping a coin, I moved through the door on the left and walked cautiously down the hall, with my sword out and my senses tuned for any sound or movement or smell. I came to another door, and I heard a nasty slithering sound on the other side. I am sure that prudence would have told me to go back and check out the other door in the temple for a way out, but Paladin's have never been known for their prudence. Through the door I went, right into a pack of waiting Carrion Crawlers. And just to make things a tiny bit more interesting,there were a few Basilisks waiting in the wings. Oh what fun. Here is where it all tends to bled together. I remember rooms upon rooms, filled with monsters, and fights that strained my skills to the limits. And moving deeper and deeper into this unending dungeon. As I paused and listened at a door in a room that smelled like Drac dung, I heard sounds coming from the other side. "Oh joy, another fight", I sighed to myself. I cast a few more preparation spells and checked that my cloak would not hinder my swordarm. I took a deep breath, and lunged through the door shouting at the top of my lungs,"Protectorate!!" I pulled up short and the yell faded almost before it was finished. Oops, I was in some deep kimchee now. On the other side of the room was a HUGE brass dragon! I started to rapidly back up in preparation for fleeing as fast as I could. This time prudence was gaining the upper hand. But before I could make good my exit, the dragon looked in my direction,and in a deep rumbling voice, he spoke. "Hello human", he rumbled. "Don't be in such a hurry to leave, we have yet to be introduced." I stopped my flight, (remember a Paladin's lack of prudence?), and quickly bowed to the dragon. "Talgar, Knight Paladin of the Protectorate, at your service. I must beg your leave, as I have pressing matters elsewhere." Honor fulfilled, I again made motions to leave. The dragon made no move to stop me. I backed up towards the door, eyes on the dragon. He merely watched without moving. I was almost to the door,when I became curious as to why the dragon hadn't already blasted me into tiny little Talgar parts. What a Paladin may lack in prudence,is more than made up in curiosity. So I ,again, stopped my flight and lowered my sword. "Why haven't you blasted me into tiny little Talgar parts?", I asked the motionless dragon. The dragon stirred and rumbled in what, I supposed, was a dragon's way of chuckling, and he said, "Oh, that I could have done easily, little Talgar-person. But, that would not have helped with my problem." He lifted one of his sleek scaled forefeet, and revealed that massive chains shackled him to the stone wall behind him. After a quick flick of his long sharp claws he lowered his foot and rustled his wings. "A problem, that I am hoping you might can assist in rectifying". "So, you want me to set you free, I take it?" I asked brilliantly. "You humans have such a way of speaking the obvious.", he rumbled as he shifted his position for one more comfortable. I leaned on my sword, and pointed with my chin at the shackles, 'What is to prevent you from just blowing me into little tiny Talgar pieces after I set you free?", I challenged. We, Paladin's, may speak the obvious at times, but we ain't dumb. "Why nothing of course, except for my word. You human paladin's are not the only ones that have a code of honor you know.", he coughed. "You set me free, and I shall let you live." I pondered his words as I scratched an itch on the back of my neck. I pulled loose a splinter that had been working it's way into my skin. a souvenir from my crash into the basement. "Don't I get a wish or something first?, I finally asked. He snorted a blast that almost knocked me off my feet. "I am not a Genie, you dolt!", he snarled. "But, I will return the favor with a slight boon. I know how to get to what you seek. Release me, and I shall tell you." "How do you know what I seek, or for that matter that I seek anything?", I rejoined. "You are just out for a stroll, human? Quickly,you silly man, before my guards return for more of their incessant bantering!" I argued with myself for a moment more, and then with a shrug, mumbled "Well, you can only get eaten by a dragon once, I guess." I sheathed my sword and dug into my backpack. I pulled out a set of lockpicks. "Good thing, Jecele left these here the other day.", I told him. "She is an Elf, with some less than desirable qualities about her," I said, waving the lockpicks. "But she is my lady even in spite of them." I moved up to the dragon, who courteously shifted his bulk so that I might pick the locks upon his shackles. "She umm...showed me a few tricks, one night." I finished, not wanting to elaborate further, and I started to pick at the the locks in the shackles. After a few moments of fumbling, the shackles fell free. Instantly, the dragon surged up with a deep rumbling cry, 'I am free!". I stumbled back against the wall, thinking I was about to be dragon dinner. The dragon surged towards the door calling out over his shoulder, "what you seek is through the other door in the temple!", he rumbled loudly. "It figures," I mumbled, thinking back on my coin toss. "Hey,wait!", I called to him as he rushed through the door into the next room. "We still haven't been fully introduced! You didn't tell me YOUR name!" I rushed to the door and looked out, but he was gone. I turned and retrieved my fallen lockpicks. "Don't be in such a hurry to leave, we have not been introduced.", I said,mimicking the dragon facetiously into an empty room. "Dragon's don't have names that you would recognize.", a voice suddenly spoke. Startled, I whipped around looking for the source of the voice. There was nothing there! The voice was in my head! "But you can call me Ernie, if you insist on a name.", the silent voice in my head continued. "And dragon's don't eat humans! Much too stringy!" The voice faded slowly, with what I could only guess, to be dragon laughter...... To be continued...Requiem of a Song Bird (submitted by: Illysianna) The thick, grey fog hovered over the city of Nightsedge, hiding the happenings on the ground from the curious green eyes of the woman. She hid within her castle, locking herself up to protect her from the pain that society caused. Now, the only interaction that she had with anyone, was watching from a distance while she sat in the large bay window, hugging her knees to her chest, waiting for the day when the pain subsided. She ran her fingers through her long, red hair and tucked the lock behind her ear. Silently, she cursed this time of day. Something that held so much beauty, but beauty that was always just out of her grasp. 'Twenty seven minutes until sunrise.', she told herself. After just short of five centuries of living, she came to trust her inner clock more than any man made timing apparatus. Twenty seven minutes until she faces that horrid decision once again. The decision to stay and see the sun once more, or to flee and hide within the darkness of her chambers, and to face yet another day of pain. The choice was beginning to get more difficult with the passing of each moon overhead. Nitengale kenw that the time was near for her to end her existance and allow her soul to face the consequences for five hundred years of death. Her pale, slender hands stretched out and lifted the glass sheet. A sudden cacophony of noise slammed into her, temporarily deafening her from its power. Of course she realized that the noise was eminating from over a hundred feet down. However, she had not heard the once soothing voice of a mortal in over six months, and the sudden remembrance of a voice's power caused her head to spin. Her heightened sences were picking up over eight different conversations. She slumped forward, trying to catch her breath and calm herself. She had not heard anyones voice in so long, including her own. The beauty of the sounds she now heard stuck a familiar chord within her soul. Yes, she vaguely remembered this. The power of the voice. The beauty of the timbre. The refreshing innocence of the mortals. This was why she had continued to exist for all those years. With twenty three minutes left, she jumped to her feet and ran down the stairs of her haven. She paused infront of the main doors, her hands fumbling with the ackward locks that barred her escape. Finally, she had them all undone and she grasped the golden doorhandle. With a deep breath, she pulled the huge oak doors open and breathed in the fresh air. A smile crossed her lips and blood tears trickled from the corner of her eyes. Twenty two minutes... she had to find someone. She had to touch a mortal again. She had to speak with someone again, find the peace that it used to give her. She tilted her delicate head, red hair cascading down infront of her shoulder, until her hearing detected someone fairly near. She ran towards them, ignoring the door she left wide open. Twenty one minutes...she had to make it. The light laughter toyed with her emotions as it grew louder and louder. The gorgeous coloratura voice dancing with each word. She longed to see the face of the woman who had such a devine voice. As she ran, the blood tears streaked down her cheeks. She knew she would probably scare this mortal, however, Nitengale cared not. She had made up her mind, and if there was one thing she was known for, it was her determination, or stubborness, whichever one they preferred to call it. Finally, she stopped and crouched close to the ground. Before her was the woman, one of which Nitengale had never seen the equal to her beauty. The woman was about Nitengale's height, but had more toned muscles on a smaller frame. She was extremely pale, the darkness of her hair adding to the lightness of her skin. The womans hair was very long and thick, and so dark that it appeared to shine different shades of blue and violet. And her eyes... a bright violet with silver flecks in them that reflected the light of the moon. This woman always had a sparkle in her eyes. Atop of her head laid a crown, one made from varying bright wildflowers. Within her arms she held a fair haired child with a matching crown. The pair giggled together as the woman swung the child around and around. Nitengale watched from the shadows, her heart sinking the longer she stood and stared. A child. A mother. A life she had never and would never be able to know. Her life, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, was filled with darkness. Her music was the only thing that had ever been able to truely make her feel like she meant something. Her childer were important to her.. but they had died, or given up, or changed so very much. Her clan once meant something to her, and she was a good leader, but she did not have the patience or tolerance to attempt to make everyone happy. She lost that long ago. And she also lost the desire to make things right. There were others that fit into that world of political intrigue much more than she did. And so she had left it up to them. Let them listen to the unhappy kindred who are so selfish as to blame everything on the Elders. Let them deal with it. Nitengale had had enough of that life... and enough of this one. She scanned the woman's aura and found that she was some kind of creature of magic. Yes... she had heard of this woman. The spider web cloak that hung about her shoulders gave away her identity. Nitengale emmerged from the shadows and stood behind the Queen. "Ilysianna, I hate to interupt, but I have a request of you." The Queen turned around quickly, her arms wrapped protectively around the child. The violet eyes scanned Nitengale, looking her up and down in silence. Finally, the Queen moved, putting the child down and whispering softly, trying to hide the sound from Nitengale, but the Antediluvian picking it up easily... "Jaliycia, run off now. Go back to the Freehold and mommy will return shortly. I have to speak with this pretty lady." The young girl looked up at her mother with bright, innocent eyes, then over to Nitengale. She smiles politely and curtsied towards the stranger. "Please don't keep my mommy long. She has to help me make plans for a Tea party. Would you like to come?" Nitengale could not speak, lest the tears fall. This girl was so innocent, so charming, so beautiful. She shook her head and returned the curtsey. The child kissed her mother goodbye and ran off. Ilysianna's full attention was placed on the figure before her. "I am sorry, I do not know you, kindred. If you need my help, I suggest we start with an introduction." "Please, forgive my manners, I was overwhelmed by your daughter. She is amazing. I am known as Lady Nitengale, it is a pleasure your majesty." The two shook hands. Nitengale placed her arm behind Ilysianna's back and started to usher her towards the city. She took a quick glance upwards, then looked back to the raven haired Queen. "Please, forgive me, but I have to make this short. I have eighteen minutes more until I die. Correction, until you aid me in killing myself." Ilysianna stopped in her tracks, fighting the power of the Nitengale's arm on her back. "How dare you think I would ever do something like that? Are you assuming that I would gladly take the life of an undead, just because of what you are?" "No, Ilysianna, I assume after you hear my plea, that you will take pity on me and end my misery. I have lived for a very long time, as I am sure you can tell. In my time, I have seen people I love grow old and die. Those that I tried to save, by cursing them as I am have turned on me, or have gone their own way. There is one left who I give myself to, a man named Deth. However, I do not wish an existance where I live only for someone else. I have lost my passion. I have lost my desire... and I have lost my will to continue. "You probably can not understand what I am saying. And I really wasnt sure I meant it until I saw you with your child. I am a woman, Ilysianna. I had a mother and a father. But I can never have a child. I will never feel a being kicking inside my womb. Instead, I feel someone dying in my arms. That is not a child. Even though I give them my blood, it was I who killed them. I was the one that cursed them, and they will always know that. "For centuries, the only thing that I had to live for was my music. The beauty and power I found within the mysteries of blending notes together fastinated me, and moved me. IT was my will, IT was my desire... and now, I do not even have that. I have not sung in over half a year. I have nothing to sing about. No one to sing to. And frankly, I am tired. "I am hurting, Ilysianna. I feel pain so deep I doubt anyone can know what it is like. This pain, unlike a mortals, grows each day. The hatred I feel for what I am burns my soul and there is only one escape from it. I ask you this, keep me on the surface. Do not allow my body to descend when the sun comes up. Please, do this for me. That is all I ask of you." Ilysianna stared at the red headed woman. She remembered this woman from her link with Randym. This was his sire. She shook her head, trying to deny the presence of the Kindred. Trying to wake from the dream. Trying to ignore the woman's request. She looked up at Nitengale, the words of refusal already on her lips. She looked into her eyes, and only nodded her head. She could not refuse the woman she looked upon now. Nitengale sat there, the tears of red ceasless. She had found a solid white rose and was staring into it. One by one, her tears dropped into the center of the rose, staining the petals red. Her shoulders slumped, ber back bent by fatigue so great, she could no longer fight it. She looked up and saw the Queen, saw pity in her eyes. "Please, do not pity me. I have lived more in my lifetime than ten other people combined. I have loved, and I have been loved. I have witnessed wonders that you can not begin to comprehend. I have been a part of history, making it, effecting the world to make life better for those that come after, those like your little Jaliycia. Here, take this rose and this ring, and take it to a man named Deth. Please..." Nitengale handed over the rose that was half white, and half red from her tears. Her hands lifted her hair off the back of her neck as her fingers played with the clasp of her nacklace. On the chain rested a platnum wedding band, one sized for a man. She removed a matching engagement ring from her left ring finger and kissed it, then added it to the chain. She reclasped it and handed it to Ilysianna. "Tell him, I have always and will always love him. That I shall be watching over him, and with him always, if I have to tear down the gates of heaven and hell to do so. And Ilysianna..." Nitengale paused, trying to calm the sobs and searched for the words she wished to say. "...thank you. This means everything to me." Ilysianna took Nitengale's hand and squeezed it tightly. Then, she wrapped her arms around the Kindred's neck and hugged her tighty. "I only wish I could have gotten to know you better. I will do as you ask, and I will make sure your memory never dies." Nitengale looked up at the sky... three minutes. She walked over to the town square in Nightsedge. Ilysianna watched her, amazed at the courage and strength the woman possessed during her final few moments. The once Toreador Elder had straightened herself, walking with her head held high, with the regal stature that so many of the other Kindred admired her for. She had a spark in her eyes again... a purpose. She stopped and looked up at the sky. "Sun, shine once again upon this creature of darkness!! Fill me with your radiance, let me bask in your warmth and bathe in your beauty! Light, the creator... cleanse me of the darkness that has dwelt within my soul for so long!!!" Nitengale's hands shot up over her head, outstretched, as if waiting for someone to return an embrace. Her face shone, a smile so bright that Ilysianna could not fathom how she could have been so miserable. How she could be so happy to have her final moment at hand. How? Her thoughts were interupted by Nitengale's voice filling the silence. She sang, more beautifully than anyone she had even heard. She even outshone the bird she was named after. She sang no words, just let the beauty of her voice ressonate throughout the square. She needed no words, for her voice said it all... the emotions within it telling of her life, of the happiness, of the pain... and of her love. Ilysianna quickly mustered all the glamour in the area and magnified the Toreador's voice. People everywhere throughout the realms could now be a part of Nitengale's requiem. Then, a single ray of sunlight came across the horizon. It breeched the barrier of the trees in Nightsedge and landed on Nitengale's copper hair. The color shone in the sunlight like gold. Ilysianna watched through the tears blurring her vision. This creature of the night, so beautiful in the darkness, radiated now. Her beauty growing ten fold in the nuturing embrace of the sun. The ray grew and grew, highlighting her hair more and more each second. But it was the look on Nitengale's face that caused the Queen of the Kithain to fall to her knees. Instead of pulling back, away from the light, Nitengale lifted her hands, cupped together as if she was drinking in the sunlight. She stared into the bright ray that now touched her forhead and eyes. Slowly, her skin began to smoke. There was no scream of agony, no tears of pain or loss... Only, a smile of relief. She looked over at Ilysianna with the eyes of one who had reached nirvana. "Thank you... friend." Then, there was a burning inferno where once the Toreador Antediluvian stood. Ilysianna stood, watching the flames until the last one died. Lifting her hands, she summoned a great breeze and watches at the ashes flew into the sky and began drifting in every direction. She stood, staring at the scorch marks on the ground for easily an hour. Finally, she wiggled her hand and turned to walk off, insearch of this Deth character, and anyone else who might have known Nitengale. Behind her, in the spot of Nitengale's final death, small green sprouts began to rise out of the dirt. Being encouraged by the Queen's glamour, they grew and grew until a huge rose bush sat in the middle of the square, white roses blooming all over it. At the top of the bush sat a chimerical creature, one that is living, yet created by a Kithain's magic. A nightengale sat amongst the highest branch. It looked around, and slowly began to sing the song everyone in Neverwinter heard... Nitengale's Requiem. Ilysianna de Ravenmane Sidhe Queen of the Kith House Fiona Kithain GM <><><><><> <><><><><> Gimme a Scoop! Enter the weekly News of the Realm contest by submitting text for publishing. If your Announcement, Article, Helpful Hint, NW Abby Question, Poem, Fiction, or Tidbit wins, you'll have won your choice of 4 Pearls or Access to the GOH (Guild of Heroes)! Submit all text to screenname: NW NEWS. <><><><><> <><><><><> MONTHLY CONTEST!! Win Pearls for your Guild! Participate in the monthly News of the Realms "Newsworthy" contest. Each month, 4 pearls will be awarded to the account of the Guild with the most "newsworthy" articles for that month! We're looking for works of art, articles of fine literature, helpful hints of extraordinary brilliance, poetic works which stir the soul, etc. The key word here is "newsworthy"... only articles with substance will be counted in the contest! To participate you need to: - Indicate with your submission the name of your SANCTIONED guild. Only Sanctioned Guilds are presently eligible to receive pearls for a Guild pearl account. - Write something!