Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: tkelly@unix2.tcd.ie (Mithrandir-the-Love-Stricken-and-happy) Subject: [Sorc] The Final Frontier ... Message-ID: Date: Mon, 13 Sep 1993 12:08:20 GMT ADMIN: OK, It's been a long-ish time to get it together, but it was worth it eventually. To you newbies who don't know what I'm on about, I can dredge up the other eighteen chapters if you REALLY want me to. Anyway, on with the final chapter ... -------------------------------------------------------------- Silken. Saoirse. Talon. Three people at the castle wall now. The further they got to the castle, the deeper the mist had gotten until they were right up at the wall itself. At the wall, the air was suprisingly clear and fresh. There was even a small breeze blowing. Silken was feeling less somber and depressed than when they'd first got here. He was happy that he was now getting somewhere. The air creature had been a tough nut to crack, but he was alright. Not as well fed as he'd like to have been, though. The healing processes tended to leave him hungry. But he ignored it for the moment. "Talon ", he whispered ," I doubt we're going to be able to just walk in uninvited. Are the others planning a unified blast or something?" Talon glanced at him. " I presume so, Silken. By the way, is it true that vampires can't enter uninvited?" Silken cocked him an eye back and just smirked. Eventually it bubbled up to a giggle. "Shhhh! I only asked ," Talon was looking a little embarassed now. They waited against the wall in silence. Saoirse was surreptitiously testing the wall, seeing what sort of shield was surrounding it. It was a primal shield, of that much she was sure. She hadn't had very much time to research primal since their first encounter with Darmal, but she did know that it was suspected that a great deal of magical force could wear down a small shield. She hoped so, at any rate. In the clearing where they had been, she observed that the others had formed a defensive posture and were preparing for battle. Daemel and Jarakh were at the center of a circle of mages. They were weaving a highly poweful attack spell, well beyond her own capabilities. They raised their voices in chant and both spellcasters at once directed their hands and shouted the final command words. A piercing blue-white pulse of energy, scintillating and corruscating with power, flew immediately from the two of them and crashed against the castle walls. There was a deep explosion and all shielded their eyes. When the retinal after images began to clear, Silken was the first to see that there was no damage done whatsoever. High above them, some silvery figure wrapped in black robes merely quietly laughed and, by himself, effortlessly tossed the same spell back at them. Except his energy bolt was larger. There was another explosion. Saoirse gripped Talon's arm for fear of what might have happened and squeezed. Talon instinctively put his arm around her, to comfort her. But the Magirans held their ground, if only barely. They looked visibly weakened by the blast. Saoirse breathed a sigh of relief and once again checked the shielding on the castle wall. Still there, but not quite as strong. Once again, Jarakh and Daemel, and also Master Lothaer combined their efforts. They began to weave a formula that she knew which conjured an elemental storm. The spell was quickly finished. The storm quickly surrounded the castle walls, lancing at the shield with lightning. The three at the wall kep their heads down and tried fairly vainly to shield themselves from the rain suddenly whipping down on them. It was biting cold, like a thousand tiny icicles and soon soaked each of them right through. "This is idiotic ", mumbled the elf to himself, but he kept down. The storm winked out just as quickly as it had started. "Somebody's got to notice the ammount of magic running through here", Talon observed, hoping that it would be somebody he'd rather see. The Silvery figure above was not so cock sure of himself, suddenly. Saoirse knew why. 'Talon, look, his shield, it's breaking at the edges. He's worried about what might happen. Now's our chance' She went to raise a blast against the shield herself, but stopped. Darmal's shield had just failed completely. Up on the battlements, Darmal thought to himself. -I've spent too much energy on rebuilding this heap of a castle. Well, sorry Sorceror, but guess my lot is done here. maybe we'll do business again sometime. He was aware that Sorceror was completely taken up with the casting and controlling of the portal. His Master would not be pleased but right now, Darmal didn't fancy his chances of survival. - Adios, Master. Darmal quickly disappeared off the plane with a few simple gestures. He was a bit angry, but this demon thing wasn't worth getting killed over. It was Silken who first moved over the castle wall, vertically, carrying the other two deftly in one arm a-piece. "He's down below the castle" said the elf simply, impatiently. He'd had it up to his eyeteeth with magical duels, battles for supremacy and all the rest of it. Visions of the dream which sent him out after Kron still haunted him. They were even nearer to the surface now than they had been before. He positively anticipated an ending to the whole affair for once and for all, regardless of the outcome. At once, without a second glance back at the other two, he went into the main keep, searching for a way down. 'What the hell is wrong with him, Talon. Is he crazy' Saoirse watched the elf, the look in his eyes was something approaching fanatic. "No, Saoirse, I think he's just tired. So very very tired. He wants to finish whatver he perceives to be his role in all this. His curse wears at him, as it does with all of his immortal kind, wearing at his soul. They are creatures of great passion, vampires. Most are inhuman slaves to those passions, but a few, like this elf we've met only a short time ago, try to retain their sanity." Talon looked sad, pitying of Silken. Then Silken found the stairs down into the bowels of the Keep. He didn't stop for a second, going down the stairs. He could feel it. The Power. The dark power of Inferno was there, awaiting him, almost inviting him. Behind a door. That door, the door in front of him, with it's deep oak and old hinges. He placed his hand on that door, and paused. Behind this door, he thought to himself, it ends. No more after this. No more pain. No more torture. No more. He turned the door handle, and opened the door. The light hit him like a club in the temple. A brilliant corruscating radiance, shining with power and glory. It was all that he could do, mustering his full vampiric strength, to simply hold his own ground and not sink to his his knees. Gradually, details began to emerge from the brilliance. The form of a man. Undoubtedly his enemy, the Sorceror. Or was it just Sorceror? Didn't matter. The figure was dressed in golden robes, in the same style as Saoirse, the deaf woman, but these looked so much grander. The light was searing his eyes. He stood back, puting his hand in front of his face to block out some of the light, trying to think frantically what to do. That same sense of confusion that he had always known. Not knowing quite what to do. The figure turned towards him, and the light winked out somewhat. Silken could see only an after-image, spotty and not altogether clear. He shook his head to clear it. A melodious voice called him. "Ah, my servant, you have arrived" What did he mean servant? The man was siting at a desk, now that Silken could see clearly. He still positively sparkled with some sort of inner light, as though he was more real than reality. Everything else paled in comparison. Silken looked around, unsure. His eyes settled upon a corpse ... "Iglyarch ..." he whispered, surprised and yet seeing it all. So Iglyarch DID have Sorceror for backing. "Exactly ", spoke the figure. He's reading my mind!! "Yes, I am. Such a terrible mess it's in, also. I must apologise, vampire, for my ... tricks upon you ", the golden figure positively beamed a smile. "You have been such a worthy servant, Silken, such a worthy servant indeed. A deity couldn't ask for better" It hit Silken, the realisation that he was here having a pleasant converstaion with a god. A god. His enemy, a god. He wanted to slay a god. Not possible. He should worship this god. Yes, absolutely worship .. The vision of himself tearing into Kron came at him forcefully, bringing back reality. What had he been thinking. All his efforts were but the will of somebody else?? Damn no way. He was his own elf, not some puppet, and now was the time to end it all. His hand flew to his sword, heated , angry, don't think about it. The sword was drawn. His hand lifted high in the air, to smite his enemy. The sword came down, a thunderous blow, strength of himself, the Beast within, all focussing upon it. The chair crumbled, the floor crumbled, the sword crumbled. Sorceror stood beside him. Nighthawk, his sword, his last link to his elven nature lay there, shattered into hundreds of little pieces. Like his soul, shattered, destroyed. Tears sprang to his eyes. He fell on the ground, slumped in a heap and buried his face in his hands. Blood, tears of blood welling down his hands. He looked at those tears. Blood. He was creature of blood. Doomed, eternal, like a shadow of himself. One thought crystalised through his weeping for himself and his lot. You have done this. You, pathetic god that you are. Sorceror's outrage could be felt. "Pathetic?", he whispered ," Pathetic." Silken felt himself lifted off the ground, dashed against the ceiling, thrown against a wall. The impact would have killed a mortal. It stunned him. "Do you have any idea, vampire, of how long I have slaved, worked, toiled to get to where I am? Can you comprehend the millenia that I've lived, building my power beyond all your imaginings" Silken coughed up blood in pain. His ribs were healing. "No ", he rasped " and I don't care. You're a sad bastard." Across the room he flew, head-butting the wall. Back gain, he flew, his spine hitting another wall, shattering. He couldn't see, the pain exploding around him. The battering stopped. He concentrated on healing. BUt something else was there. Rage. Anger. Hatred. Loathing. The Beast. It called. It sang for a chance, any chance. Silken greeted the Beast like and old friend. Come on in. Let's party together. He had a strange sense of understanding at that moment. The Beast was a part of him. He needed Harmony, not constant struggle. Yes!! His eyes opened, healed, hungry. His skull healed. His arms were movable again. Blood. He needed blood. Where could he find blood? He closed his mind off and looked at the god. Sorceror's expression was of disdain. He regarded this elf with the same interest level of a maggot. "Pah! And all your grand dreams founder on the rock, elf - me, your obstacle. The portal is opened. You can do nothing. Your life is ruined. Again, you can do nothing. You ARE nothing. I pity you". Silken made no answer. The Harmony within was encompassing him. Be one with who you are, not strive against what is only natural for you. -But I'm NOT natural, I'm a vampire! -And who are you to say what is natural and what isn't? -True, but it's wrong. -No there is no wrong. There is no right. There is just self. Who you are. That is all the wrong and right that ever was. -Yes!! He looked down at his own hands. They were streaked with his blood. His skin was paler than he had ever seen before. I am natural. I am what I am. Yes. Finally, his eyes were drawn to the mage Sorceror, the god Sorceror, the immortal Sorceror. He took a step towards the shining body. Sorceror continued to look with disdain upon him. "I am protected, vampire. You could not even begin to defeat me" "I don't think so", said Silken quietly. Sorceror laughed quietly, derisively. "I know you now, deity, I know your face. I know that you are the root of all my woes. I know that you are the cause of my struggle within and without. I know that you are the one who caused me to fight with and nearly slay my friend Kron. And I know that your power weakens as we speak. This world, my world, does not take kindly to strangers, to gods. Your energies are weakened here." All of this was said levelly, calmly, with that special undertone of cold rage. Behind Sorceror, Silken saw Saoirse and Talon appear, spells at the ready. Sorceror turned and the spells were released. A lightning bolt dashed off his robes, a swarm of hornets died even as they approached him. The attacks were that easy to fend off, but he was distracted. The castle foundations shook with a terrible roar. Sorceror's gaze became uncertain, shifting from side to side. "What is this?" he shrieked. "Reinforcements, I'd say", called the elf from behind ,"Old Magiran friends in something of a nasty mood because of you. Always because of you." Sorceror turned to the Portal. In an instant he was beside it. So was Silken. "You aren't escaping that easily, you bastard" he lunged. Grabbing Sorceror by the collar of his golden robe, Silken moved to wrench his neck out. The blast that greeted him sent him across the room, into the wall behind. He slid down slowly, his back in pain once again. "Enough is enough elf. Your friends can be the ones to tell of your demise" His hand raised ... Silken stared dully for a second ... A word of power was spoken ... The elf stood beside the god again. Sorceror stared in shock. "You can't "Kill " me, I'm already dead" his teeth extended, a blur of movement and a cry. Saoirse looked in horror as Silken sank his teeth into Sorceror's neck and began to drink. The elf was standing, his mind swimming. I'm dreaming, he thought. Rapture and pain all at once, The blood of an immortal flowing into his veins, into his soul, and images passing through his mind so very quickly. He saw Magira in the ancient times, the young mortal Sorceror in his element. He saw the finger of the Mother, the Great Mother, upon the mage's mind. Death and destruction, planning an eternal revenge, a quest for power far exceeding any of his previous mad plans. The equal of the Mother, but unable to last in his world. Ah, the terrible tragedy and loss. This figure had not known peace in how long? The visions ceased suddenly, the deity had Silken by the throat, as the blood coursed hotly through Silken's veins. They stood stock still beside each other. The Portal, thought Silken. Another explosion rocked the castle to it's very bones. The Sounds of approaching feet. The Smell of enchantments so strong. It ends now, the elf thought. The buck stops here. Saoirse turned to the approaching Scholars. 'Get Out, Quickly, before it's too late!!' With that, she teleported up to the outside world, taking Talon with her. The others, seeing the fear and hearing the message followed suit. Outside, she saw the Keep cracking, crumbling, exploding under the intense pressure of forces all around. Saelex Keep was not holding it's new shape. Inside, the battle accelerated. Silken was clawing at his enemy's throat. He was full of power, unbelievable power. Sorceror cast a dark bolt of energy at him, he was surrounded by dark fire. But he kept on coming. Sorceror increased the power into his fire. Silken fell to one knee, then stood again, and kept on coming. Claws at the ready, he bdoily picked up Sorceror, whose face was one of total panic. "I .. send you where you BELONG!!!" cried the elf and with a mighty heave, his flesh burning with the dark corruscating fire, he threw Sorceror toward a portal. The Portal to Inferno. Time slowed as the gleaming golden robed body arched and fell into the portal, it's fire still withering Silken. Then ... From the outside the rumbling began in the depths , the bowels of the Earth. The Mages ran in various directions away from the Keep. Then ... There was a white blinding light and a cloud . A Roar of an explosion titanic in size thundered through their ears. The blinding white light nearly burned through their eyelids. The castle totally consumed in this awesome celestial fireball. In truth, it was beautiful, truly beautiful. Inside ... -A City where a young elf makes his home "I don't think so Cassandra!! ", screams an elf and plunges his sword into a young mage's body ... "Iglyarch, you bastard !!!", he screams as his quarry escapes ... A young elf dives to the side as a crossbowblot thunks into the door of the Dragon's Inn. It was intended for him ... "Well, SERGEANT ", he smiles at the recently unemployed Kron ... A hole in the warp into which he falls, screaming ... Darkness, the depths of Inferno, the Demons. He is a slave, mind and body ... A blue light on a street in Generica, a guard named Terl scared out of his wits. Where am I? asks the elf ... A vision. A robed man calling down death and demons to Nexus ... "KRON ", he screams as his dark nature shreds his friend ... The time streams, he is knocked out of his travels into the wrong stream ... The Hunters as they laugh, a battle in the storm ... A square in Generica where a darkened elf runs from demons he has known ... A Keep, dark and menacing, a silvery figure in defence ... Robed god , laughing at him ... Peace, harmony in himself, the struggle he appeases, the blood of the god ... The Body of Sorceror enetering inferno, the blinding white light ... Standing on the deck of a ship, a bright sunny day, Elvarian who called himself Silken looks out to his home. The laughing sailor about their tasks, the seas singing of joys and wonders untold, he gazes at the bright noon sun and gazes at the armour he wears, he, Lord of the Silver Knights, returning Home at last. I'm going home, he thinks, to new horizons, and my MOther. Mother, I missed you so. I'm coming back now. All is at peace. I'm coming home. And into the shining seas of the West the ship travels, up and beyond the mortal coil. He's going home. He's going to meet his family again. To the lands of the sun and eternal beauty. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The End. Silken, Rest in Peace, A tortured soul finally goes where he wants to be ... Home. -- The Four Basic Personality Types (by Gary Larson), "The Glass is half full!!", "The Glass is half empty", "The Glass is half full... I mean half empty ... I mean" , "Hey!! I ordered a Cheeseburger!!!!" ... Mithrandir [tkelly@unix2.tcd.ie]