From alt.pub.dragons-inn Thu Jun 16 21:29:00 1994 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:7412 Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!netcomsv!halsoft.com!news.hal.COM!olivea!spool.mu.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!news.uoregon.edu!gaia.ucs.orst.edu!flop.ENGR.ORST.EDU!viper.CS.ORST.EDU!foleye From: foleye@viper.CS.ORST.EDU (Stilt Man) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [DS][BBD] Check to Stalemate Date: 16 Jun 1994 05:34:21 GMT Organization: Computer Science Department, Oregon State University Lines: 472 Distribution: world Message-ID: <2too8tINNf4j@flop.ENGR.ORST.EDU> NNTP-Posting-Host: viper.cs.orst.edu [ADMIN: Well, I can pass the usual kudos to Corey Venour for critical help on this, as well as for helping brainstorm the story hooks for the future that take place in this story and later ones . . .] "Shouldn't we find some place to stay out of sight before one of them sees us?" asked Kaalzic. "They will not bother with us, so long as we do not threaten them. This temple is their goal, and Arcania needs as much of her daemons' strength as she can muster against those within," said Kryalla. The battle had not been a quick or easy one for Arcania and her daemons. Observing from a hill overlooking the ocean shore, Lancos, Myrnien, Kaalzic, and Tarkyn had seen the battle unfold. Arcania herself was down there, wielding her power against that of the mysterious Guardians who held the temple. The Balroqs' fury was nearly as daunting to behold as that of their mistress, as they crushed the stone constructs of the Guardians with their power. But the Guardians themselves offered little target, and their magic held the Balroqs back long ere Arcania herself finally managed to break through their protective veil of power. They turned their rage on the temple proper as the sun went down, but into the night, the sounds of the mystical war did not abate. In the darkness, one man below stood out. His arms and legs glowed with a blue and red light, the back of his neck with green. It seemed that the eyes of Kryalla Simuel seldom left this man, and slowly the others seemed to grasp what it was they had been brought here for, whom it was the Shrouded One sought. The others took to camp soon after dark, but Kryalla herself refused to leave her vigil. Myrnien took advantage of the distraction. "Okay, now it gets a little easier to figure why we're here, in her eyes," she began, breaking the long silence since Kryalla had mockingly suggested she join the battle if she wished. "So what makes this guy worth while? Why aren't we still chasing BBD?" Tarkyn eyed Lancos, as did Kaalzic. Lancos looked at them back, understanding the implication. "Okay, so all you've really got is my word that she's trustworthy. After all, she did help us against BBD before, didn't she? She did apparently kill the guy, right?" Myrnien did not allow the point. "Sure, but then left us to our own. How much sooner might you guys've freed me if she'd have stuck around? She could've been useful in rooting out the organization and freeing most of those BBD had enslaved if she'd really had an interest in taking him and his cronies out. Instead, she leaves us in the lurch." Tarkyn interjected, "We had no way of knowing he would've survived." Myrnien glared at him. "Velric did. He took control of the organization the moment BBD was gone. Which still left me and lots of other people stuck with the bracelets." She shook her head. "I still don't trust her. We don't know enough about her . . ." "Who does?" asked Kaalzic. " . . . she doesn't act at all straight-forward . . . " "That'd be the day," laughed Lancos. Lancos found himself forced to lean back to dodge a swing of her fist. "Damn it, this isn't funny!" she insisted. "If you'd been the one stuck with your mind under the control of a trinket on your wrist, you'd look at things a lot differently!" Lancos sat back up after carefully assessing that Myrnien would not take a second swing at him. She continued, "She's treating us all like pawns on a chess board." Lancos nodded as he saw the assent from the others. "We don't have to follow her blindly, after all," said Tarkyn. "As if we had a choice when she brought us here," muttered Myrnien. Lancos placed a hand on her shoulder, tried to express his sympathy for her feelings on his face. "I know she doesn't deal with us with much trust, by I think she's got a reason for bringing us here. And she's done good by me in the past. She can't have known you were still stuck under Velric's control with the others." "How much does she know?" persisted Myrnien. "The woman seems to have this uncanny awareness of what her enemies are doing. And she never tells us any more of it than she needs us to know to fulfill our moves around the chess board for her." "But has she done anything to us that we wouldn't have done ourselves if we knew what it was for?" suggested Tarkyn. "If that's the case, then why doesn't she tell us?" asked Myrnien. As Lancos opened his mouth to reply, she added, "And don't tell me `It's just her way.' I don't buy that." "Well, I tried asking `why' to her once," said Lancos with a helpless look on his face. "She just gave me a funny look." "I see," said Myrnien grimly. Kaalzic started to speak, but stifled it when he saw Kryalla walking up to them. "Wait here," she said. "I will return with Emrikol." She did not wait for an answer, simply turned and walked toward the shore. They exchanged glances a moment before getting up to have a look at the battle. The Balroqs had penetrated the gates of the temple. And the glowing man was nowhere to be found. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The eyes of the Guardian bulged as the tattooed hands closed around his neck. The fool had relied upon the power of the Amethyst, assuming it would destroy him with no problem. And against any other of his people, it might have worked. But Emrikol had another power assisting him, the power of hate, the power of the runes that had been placed upon him by one whom he was only vaguely aware was his enemy. But even if he was aware, he did not care. This enemy here in his hands was his prime concern. He did not even need the spurring of the runes on his neck to tell him this. He would have done it in any case. The breath of the man rattled in his throat, and still Emrikol squeezed. He did not even see the man whose neck he was crushing. He saw only an enemy who had built the hell in which much of his life had been spent within. He saw a dragon that had devoured the woman he had loved. He saw only an alleged member of humanity that needed to die. He heard the crunching sound, and only then did he let go. "You are not finished! The power source that enables them to resist is still within their control. You must break it loose of them, use it against them!" the voice in the back of his mind exhorted him. Emrikol strode up the halls, only hearing portions of the snarling and rending of the Balroqs behind him, the cries and chantings of the Guardians in their attempts to resist the might of Arcania. Slowly, he could hear them getting closer, but the Guardians still held. Emrikol looked about, making sure he was moving unseen through the dimly lit corridors, but he need not have worried, the runes told him. They were focused upon the Balroqs, focused upon the Dark One herself. They had no time for him. He saw the purple light, knew that this was what he sought. He walked into the room, and saw the purple gem on the pedestal whence the Guardians had ensconced it. He saw the man with his aura of light looking at him in shock and hatred. He saw the tracing of runes in the air, felt the possibilities shifting to encompass his doom. He reacted, the power of his runes mixing with that granted him to match that of the man before him. His opponent had tried to use the possibility that the ground might open up beneath him, causing him to fall. He had been more direct, enacting the possibility that the heart within the chest of his foe would seizure and burst. The other clutched his chest, horror and surprise warring on his face as he fell to the ground, taking the time to smile as Emrikol fell within the hole in the marble floor. Emrikol was light as a feather. Then his weight was less than nothing, allowing him to float freely back up to the floor level. He placed one foot forward, shifted himself to have his weight on solid ground once more, and reversed the possibility that had brought him here. He stepped forward, seeing the Amethyst before him. This was what had enabled Them to resist him. This was what had allowed them survival in a world such as this, with its Great Mothers and Dark Masters and BBDs and Velrics. The runes about it were simple. They left only the possibility that any force which broke through them would also destroy the Amethyst beneath. This was why she had needed him, his own mind grasped in an instant. She needed him to break this using the same methods as had been used to create it. Arcania herself could break it, but would destroy the Amethyst in the doing. She needed someone who knew the rune magic, who could unlock this without destroying the precious gem beneath. The hatred subsided a bit, the power of the beacon coursing through him, sending tendrils about his mind to cull from it the knowledge that would be needed to take this thing from its pedestal. The runes on his flesh lit up as they sensed the invasion of his mind. But they could do nothing; the threat was from within. They brightened and obeyed the commands of his mind. The reality was named. It was recognized, analyzed, defined. The shift was placed. A new reality was drawn, forced into being. The possibility had been there which would turn force unto the Amethyst, destroy it if any attempted to steal it. Emrikol now simply asked the magic to give it up, worked with it instead of against it. The magic seemed to stop and consider, then gave way to his will. He placed his hands upon the gem and drew it up off the pedestal, turning towards the door with it. He only was able to take a couple of steps ere the magic of the Amethyst began to work upon him. The magic of the runes on his neck had a clear course for him: to take the gem to Arcania and surrender it to her, that she might take it back with her to her home world. The Amethyst seemed to have other ideas. His hatred for his enemies came forth again, as the runes seemed to be confused as to which of their objectives should be brought about. Hatred burned through his mind, and a course of action presented itself. They had built the Labyrinth. Now let them taste their own hell. He held the Amethyst forth, called upon its energies. Having succumbed so long to the rune magic of his people and of his enemies, it yielded easily. He felt the energies bursting into him, adding itself to his magic, carrying the beacon runes along with it into one single purpose. Reality changed once more. The Guardians were no longer upon their isle off the coast. They were instead in the Labyrinth. A great violet light leapt from the gem, coursing outward into the corridors of the temple, and he heard the shrieks of the Guardians' horror as they vanished without a trace. A grim smile played over his lips as it happened. Then tears flowed freely down his cheeks. "That was for you, Syrelle." =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Arcania had one of them in her clasp, a glowing fist prepared to knock his head a little too far back for his neck not to snap. Then the purple glow rushed along them, took the limp form from her hand, and he vanished. The sapphire eyes of Arcania Dorval widened only for an instant, then she knew. Emrikol had completed his task. He was turning the Amethyst against its former users, either destroying them or sending them into exile. She had little doubts where that exile might wind up, from what she knew of him and his people. For a moment she was surprised as she saw how easily they went. Then her mind grasped the obvious: the Guardians had thrived for so long, had had no shortage of pride to begin with, and now were nearly consumed by arrogance. They felt unassailable, completely secure. It simply never could have occurred to them to bother with coming up with a defense against the Amethyst should it ever be turned against them. She watched with satisfaction as the purple glow finished what she had begun, taking the Guardians in its embrace and dispatching them one at a time. Some went quietly, accepting their fate. Others could not believe it, going either screaming or squirming as they disappeared. But all of them went. Arcania turned to the nearest of her Balroqs. The powerful crimson daemon listened intently as she drew the Necklace from around her neck, handing it to him. "Take this with you as you return to Thyaris. I shall follow shortly." The daemon nodded, bowing solemnly, then turned and barked her command to the others. In an orderly fashion, the creatures filed out of the temple, opening the portals that had been prepared for them to return to Thyaris. Arcania hopped along the corridor with barely contained excitement as she approached the room where she knew the Amethyst was being kept. She did not know exactly where it was, but all of the efforts of the Guardians had been concentrated on keeping her from moving inward in a certain direction, down a certain hallway. The runes controlling Emrikol, she reflected with satisfaction, had read this and sent him in precisely that direction, eluding their attention. Arcania had carefully kept them focused on herself and her minions, leaving Emrikol the time to do his task. She jumped over the hole in the doorway to the room where the purple glow had originated, saw the man with the tattoos clasping the Amethyst in his hands. She saw the hatred on his face as he looked up at her. That was not what she had planned. She barely had time to set her feet to avoid being knocked back into the hole when the blast of violet energy struck. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Look! Someone's coming out!" said Kaalzic, who was watching the scene below by himself. Myrnien was the first to his side, the others coming to the crest of the hill after her from their camp on the lee side from the coast. Balroqs were leaving the temple. One by one, they stepped from its shattered gateways and vanished. After a time, they stopped coming. Silence reigned below. Lancos had the idea about the same time as Tarkyn, from the look they each saw on the other's face. "You suppose there's some way we can get out there from here?" said Lancos. "We might be able to swim; the current coming in might not stop us from going out," said Tarkyn. Myrnien shook her head. "The cliffs on the edge of the isle are too sheer, and I don't see any beaches or flat coast. Even if we had a boat, we'd be broken on the rocks before we'd be able to get inside there." She turned to the others. "How does she intend to get in there?" Lancos shrugged. "She finds ways." Myrnien grunted. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Emrikol pressed his advantage, not allowing her to have a moment of rest. The hatred that drove him now drove him against her. Conscious thought was prevailing as time went on, but the runes still had sufficient influence to bring the old hatred forth, and the rest of his mind was left to find a vent for it. Arcania had conveniently presented herself. "You old bitch!" shouted Emrikol as the purple glow forced her to her knees. "It wasn't enough that you subdued me before, you had to enslave my mind and force me into this! Wasn't quite what you'd expected in the end, huh?" "No," she said through gritted teeth, as she rose up to one knee from two. "But the rest went quite well." "Right," he snorted, trying to keep her off her feet. "We showed up at the wrong spot. You didn't want us at Velric's Tower. Then even when you caught Kryalla, Velric couldn't hold her." "Of course I could have held her if I had wanted to, you fool!" she laughed, throwing the glow from her and standing unimpeded. "I planned for her to escape! Your showing up there was not what I had in mind, but I wanted her to escape! How do you think it was so easy to just walk in there and carry her out? Do you think I overlooked your return just for your convenience? No! She was meant to get away from him!" Emrikol was stunned. "Why?" "You do not learn fast, do you?" she said. "Velric was never my main plan! This was my goal, my ultimate design, all along! That gemstone in your hand was my quest. And now, you have it. But you never would have been willing to activate the runes yourself. You were too afraid of me! Kryalla had to be there, to convince you to do it, given the right bait. She had to think it would help you find me, to find the way to defeat Velric. That was never your purpose! That was never *his* purpose. He was a diversion all along, to draw the attention of the Mages' Guilds of the area away from this move!" Her eyes narrowed, bored into him. "Your escape from Dabar Roc, her escape from the Obsidian Tower, the attack on Velric by those who watch this temple from the hills overlooking the coast even now, the theft of the DarkSeed by BBD, all of it was designed with *this* in mind!" Emrikol wondered how much Kryalla had known. She had had inklings, and had shared some with him, but she could not have known all of this. She had known, though, that Velric was not the main objective of Arcania. She could not know what was, however. "And what now?" he asked. "I'm not going to just give this to you, and after fighting all the Guardians, can you really force it from me?" He did not even see the blinding blast of energy coming. It knocked him from his feet, knocked the Amethyst from his grasp. Spots danced before his eyes, and he shook his head, trying to find the Amethyst where it lay near him. Through the haze, he could make out its crimson glow. An idea occurred to him. He heard her walk towards him, towards it, and reached out to it, preparing the magic. His runes glowed, the magic came over him, and its power opened his mind to all the possibilities before him. He tried to focus his mind upon one, turned his own magic towards it, saw vaguely the light of his runes cry out with the strain. He fought to keep conscious, felt his mystical power unravelling under the force of what he was telling the Amethyst to do. It ended when her foot came down on his wrist. "Do not bother, Emrikol," she said. "It is over." She bent down to pick the Amethyst up in her hand. The power of it wrapped around her in an instant. She fought against it, tried to control it. But its magic had been called, and it sought a target. She felt it hold her in its violet hug, twisting around her power, changing but not halting as she tried to break it down to her will. Horror flooded her mind as she realized that the room around her was vanishing, pain wracking her body. The last expression Emrikol saw on her face was disgust, disgust with herself that she had been snared like this, as she vanished from the world of Nexus utterly. "Enjoy . . . " Emrikol murmurred, before his head slumped to the floor. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= She found him lying on the ground in the room. Concern touched her face when she saw the broken structure of the tattoos on his skin, the miasma of magic in the room. She felt at his neck for a pulse. It was very weak, but he was alive. An ebon-gloved hand turned him over onto his back, clasped his hands in her own. The circle was joined. The runes on his flesh, broken as they were, vanished entirely. His hair turned darker, became thicker, the lines faded from his face. She was confused, not understanding why the aging that had so broken his body before was only now fading. The broken runes were gone, their magic turned to heal the heart rune. It glowed brightly and strongly, and his eyes opened. "I have won. She is gone." "Where? Where has she gone?" asked Kryalla. "I sent her to the Labyrinth . . ." =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Arcania found herself lying flat on her belly. Her clothes were torn. It was unbearably hot. She was in sand, but it was far hotter than Nexus. She was no longer there, she knew instinctively. She looked up, the blur of the sand fading into a reddish brown just above the horizon, and then into a sickly gray sky. It was not the Labyrinth, as she might have expected from him, but it was hardly paradise, either. Shards, she had time to think, before she lost consciousness again. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Kaalzic half jumped out of his skin as Kryalla appeared abruptly in the middle of their campsite. She was alone. "So where is this Emrikol you mentioned?" asked Myrnien derisively. "Generica," answered Kryalla. "So why did you bother getting him out of that mess, bringing us here, taking us off BBD's trail, if you were just going to pack him away in Generica?" she demanded. "He is not well. I had hoped he could help us, but . . . " she closed her eyes, looked at the ground. She tried to hide the concern from her face, saw from the astonished looks on the faces of Lancos, Kaalzic and Tarkyn, astonished that she was actually showing emotion, that she was not succeeding. "We must go. Emrikol will need rest. We must find BBD and destroy the DarkSeed." "DarkSeed?" asked Lancos. The eyes of Myrnien narrowed. "I've heard that before. Velric's source of power, correct? Why do we have to find BBD to get it?" "BBD has stolen it," Kryalla replied. "He flees with it, hoping to use its power himself. It is the key to defeating Velric." Myrnien nodded, understanding a little now that Kryalla was actually explaining the rudiments of the situation. "I see," she started. "We find BBD, get the DarkSeed, mash it flat, Velric goes bye-bye." A few thoughts of how much pain they might inflict upon BBD himself in the process stole into her mind. Lancos read the expression in an instant, looked at Kryalla to make sure she was not going to say anything more, put an arm around Myrnien. "Now, don't do anything I wouldn't do, 'Nien," he said. "I don't want you taking any crazy risks just to get revenge." "Oh, don't worry, I won't do anything you wouldn't do," she said, then added, "if you'd been under his control the past few years." Lancos took his arm back, looking worried. Kaalzic looked at him questioningly. He had just found her; he did not want to lose her all over again. Tarkyn simply tried to start a fire to cook with. +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+ + Kryalla Simuel the Shrouded One + +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+ + . . . scribed by the Stilt Man, + + foleye@xanth.cs.orst.edu + +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+