Crispian nodded smartly to the guards in the square and set his finger to his lips, to let them know he wished no annoucement. He slipped into the small townhouse and crept with the skill of a scout up the stairs. Setting scarred hand to latch, he slowly lifted it. "Azi, dearest?" he whispered quietly.

 

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Tobyas read over the old and musty tomes, his head bent in concentration. He scanned pages after page at a speed most found disturbing, and what he remembered was astounding. He bent over and suddenly scowled. His eyes blazed with conviction and an other-worldliness that set some of the church hierarchs on edge. Here was what he had sought.


Among the Fallen, few were recorded of human origin, but some were committed. The text he read, ancient before the bones of Camelot were laid for the castle, spoke of Astaroth, Cabalist Omni Primus, All Prime Cabalist, first to harness the spirit and matter energies of the secret Cabal.


His seduction was complete, the lore recorded, when he opposed his will to the Almigthy's and was smote for his Pride. Some records, legend in origin, pitted Michael himself against the great and dread dragon riding Duke. As mortals fell away ill and failing of health from the very vapors of the man, the mighty guardian had stood, flaming sword high to strike at Drake and Duke alike.


It recorded how, in battle, he did oppose Michael with Stave and Serpent, although the language was confusing as to which was which, or were they the same? Tobyas was not sure.


His left hand flew over parchment making notes, two copies of each. As he tucked the tome back into the Black Cabinet, he handed the missives off to a monk, with instructions as to their dispatching.


With a brief goodbye to Crispian, he retired to the quarter he held beind the library for a brief rest before setting out on a greater work.

Azi jumped with a slight start as the latch was lifted then breathed a sigh of relief to see Crispian peek inside. Her light robes rustled slightly at her feet as she padded over to embrace him. A slight gasp escaped her lips at the pain in her still-unhealed shoulder. She let her arms drop and turned to look at Judan, still sleeping soundly and unmoving.


"The daylight is waning. Almost sunset and he hasn't woken, Crispian." She rubbed her shoulder without thinking and lowered herself to Pappa's side again, grasping his hand gently in hers.


"I'm so glad you came," she turned back to Crispian and rested her tired eyes on him. "So many things have come to pass." She motioned to a corner of the bed in the tiny room, indicating that he sit, for she wasn't about to leave Pappa's side for a moment.

ooc Argh, I dont know what I was thinking. I had first off, thought azi was in Judan's shop, and secondly thought it was late at night... <sighs> anyhow... to correct...


The guard looked at Lexi then smiled, which didn't make Lexi feel anymore comfortable. "I am sorry there lass, your father is not here. We recieved a report just recently that your father and sister are home... might I suggest you hurry off to meet them?"


Lexi smiled. "Thank you Sir... I'll do that now."


The guard nodded to her and she ran off down the street back down to her house. It was getting darker, the sunlight was almost completly gone from the sky. She was glad to find the door unlocked... and as she entered she immediatly called out. "Sis? Father? I'm home!" settling her cloak down she walked upstairs, to find crispian already there, with her sister and father in the corner.

Arcalan grimaced, setting her jaw like iron to face the still defiant Jashen. How could he? How could he refuse her, and the most generous offer?

She literally shook with anger.

"ou DARE to reject me?" her voice quivered almost breaking "I offer you godhood and you spit upon it? We could have been the most powerful rulers in existance! We could have lived an eternal life and rebuilt this world as it should be!" she was almost screeching with hysteria, but Jashen's face showed nothing but sadness. "I OFFERED YOU EVERYTHING! I would have been your Queen, and together we would have been unstoppable! But you and your good faith turn me aside!! Rrrragh!" with a gutteral scream of rage she unleashed a spell upon Jashen with preternatural speed.


Jashen felt the sudden rigidity of muscles, the staring dream-like feeling of mezmerization. But at the same time he recalled that Cabalists had no mastery of this kind of magic. Clearly powers not her own were being directedthrough her.. perhaps she really was partly posessed?

"I could kill you with a single spell, while you remain helpless!" she sneered. As the mesmerizm washed over him, he wondered if she was truely mad enough to kill him. "I could even take your own dagger and slit your throat from ear to ear!" she giggled, oddly, as if a torrent of conflicting emotions were cascading through her mad mind.

The giggle seemed to focus her again, to bring her back down from the giddy hights she'd been riding. She looked sad and serious once more.

"I won't though. Much as you deserve it for your stupidity, I cannot bear to slay you. I will return after the Rebirth Jashen, at the vanguard of my Master Astaroth!" the very name sent chill fear sweeping through Jashen.

"When you see me resplendant, immortal, all-powerful.. you will bend your knee and beg for my love. Until then, I can't have you interfering. The spell should wear off in a few hours..." she turned sharply and headed for the door.


In her heart of hearts she knew that he'd say no to her. But as she cast back a look at him before locking the door to the training room she wished he had not taken stance in opposition to her. He would come round to her way of thinking in the end though. It could be some time before anyone questioned why the training room was locked, but time was of the essence. She had to hurry.

She left through the East Gate and took the fastest horse she could to Snowdonia. A horse had been prepared at Swanton Keep to take her to Llyn Barfog, for she'd need a fresh horse. She travelled light, with no intention of stopping longer than she must. The Rebirth was at hand.


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Marrak reached into the box, and his greedy fingers curled around the Snake-shaped object. It was icy cold to the touch, and he suddenly felt an odd tugging sensation at his back.

Marrak looked around to see a strange landscape where he'd expected a wall. Silver clouds floated and mereged in a pale white sky, and the whole earth was a barren grey wasteland, peppered with black spindly trees. A man looked upon him.

The man's bald head reflected some of the pale light, it showed the wrinkles etched on the man's furrowed brow. It showed high cheekbones, and a cruel smile. His eyes were deepset into his head, but the eyes themselves were pale and devoid of colour, save the black hungry pupils. He wore maginificent robes, and carried in his left hand a staff, the same one marrak realised, as he had been holding the head of. What kind of glamour was this? Was he having a vision?

The man said softly "ou failed your task thief. Your soul is forfeit."

Even as Marrak's body in the room in Snowdonia station slumped lifeless to the floor, Marrak's soul was consumed by Astaroth, nevermore to be called home by Bindstones.

((Another in-game event to be played out here))


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Tobyas rested his eyes and fell into a light doze to refresh himself. He'd sifted through an enormous and complex amount of texts in order to reach the conclusions, and he hoped that he could stop this Cabalist Arcalan from sending anymore nightmares to Azi. He'd always known Arcalan worked in the power of some other master, but he'd hoped the two could work to mutually beneficial goals.

That thought was shattered, for she served a dread Fallen One. A man who's hubris had led him to battle the very angels of the Lord's Host!

As he reflected on this and slipped in and out of his doze, a sudden feeling of panic came upon him. He opened his eyes just in time, and flung himself sideways out of the chair.

Piece of wood flew through the air as the Needlemace slammed into the chair. Ceowyr stood directly in front of the chair, weapon at the ready, and looking like an arch-duke of Hell.

His eyes blazed with fury, and his flame red beard contrasted with his black armor, outlined like a shadow against the red lining of his cloak. Tobyas took a moment to gather why a League member was trying to smash his skull, and then recollected that Ceowyr had been Arcalan's confessor.. she had clearly corrupted him!

"Defiler! Heretic! You will pay the ultimate price!" bellowed Ceowyr. As Tobyas nimbly rolled to his feet a blast of lightning came from Ceowyr's hands. It struck Tobyas full on, knocking him backwards. But surely if this ex-cleric had abandoned God, his powers would have gone as well? Then it occured to Tobyas, the bolt had not come from the rightious wrath, but was a spell, drawing upon the hate inside Ceowyr himself. Likewise he had used other spells and powers to masquerade as a cleric, revealing his hand only now.. but for what purpose? Tobyas knew he must survive this encounter and find out what was afoot. His own mace found it's way to his hands.


<This marks an RP-event based in game. I'd ask that Ceowyr and Tobyas battle it out in Vestuva Abbey (was going to be the church but the last patch removed city-duels ) and the winner will decide how the story goes from this point. I have two outcomes, it depends who wins>

Slowly it dawned on the Friar. "Fighting in the church? Or in the Abbey?", he mutters

to himself. "Good lord, what is the world coming to? I must put a stop to this, at once!"


Quickly he puts down his mug of ale, reaches for his ever ready staff and walks

out of the pub, headed for the Abbey.


OOC: Sorry to barge in like this, but you might have a 3rd outcome forming here.

((Ah the ever infamous curve ball! ))

Azaeli looked at Lexi with a mixture of relief and disappointment. She was safe, at least, but Azi was not prepared in the least to talk to her. She was still furious at Lexi for running off when her family had needed her most. Azi glanced helplessly at Crispian, who still hadn't decided whether he felt like sitting or standing. She knew there was no love lost between he and Lexi, and for good reason, for her sister had disrespected him more times than she could count on two hands. Azaeli sighed.


"Lexi," she stood and opened her arms for a hug, and Lexi rushed to her with a smile and wrapped her arms around Azi, who returned the hug with half the usual warmth. "Pappa is safe." She nodded at Judan, still sleeping.


"But his orders are backed up. Could you go to the shop, please, so that he's not overwhelmed when he wakes?" She prayed that Lexi would agree and leave it at that, for she still had plenty to discuss with Crispian, preferably alone.

Watching Apolexia leave, Crispian settled on a chair in the sick room. The light chain he preferred while in town hissed softly under the linens he wore. He smiled at Azi with the natural smile of friendship, but his eyes were drawn, deeply shadowed by fatigue. "He will be well, Azi? And you?"

 

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