The twins looked at each other. The seriousness of the one and the confidence of the other balanced, weighed in the look. It was startling to Azi that there was the sense of communication without the need to speak and the decision was reached.


"We collect Toby and Coewyr, if they are up to it, and we ride. We'll need to call all who can to come," Crispian said in the wry tone he so often used when reaching enevible but unpleasant decisions. His mouth twisted in the line that was for him a scowl. "And then we see what can be done about Arcalan."


Jashen was fastening his cloak about his shoulders, the heavy broach closing to resemble a bishop's mitre, the adopted symbol of the Pontiff sons. "And if we can't deal with her, Cris?" His question was quiet, denoting his own seriousness. "What then?"


Crispian looked from Azi to Jashen, and lowered his eyes from his brother's gaze. "We kill her," he said quietly, all sardonicness gone from his tone.

 

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Azi swallowed, her jaw clenched defiantly. Everyone in the League knew there was no love lost between herself and Arcalan. Her eyes flashed from Crispian to Jashen.


"I pray with all of my faith it won't come to that." Her mother's blade glinted in the firelight of the dim hall as Azaeli drew it forth. She held it before them like a cross and said a quiet prayer for guidance and peace. Such ceremony still made her feel awkward and shy at times, though she was getting used to it. She moved a graceful hand over Crispian, then Jashen, crossing them and then herself with a gesture of blessing.


"Quickly, now, let's hurry." She nodded toward the door as she sheathed her sword.

The trio emerged from the hall and headed with a purpose across the city. Their sense of purpose and command radiated from them. People moved aside as they approached and guards found themselves saluting for no real reason.


They moved to the church, mounting the steps into the chapter house and were bowed in by the gate brother. Crispian only yield to comfortity by sweeping his arcanium arming cap off. His golden hair shown in the candle light of the entry area, almost swathing his head in a nimbus of sunlight.


"Please ask Fathers Tobyas and Ceowyr to attend us, good brother," he said in a firm voice that was at once commanding and respectful. The brother hustled off to comply and Crispian stood at parade rest watching everything.


Jashen smiled softly at Azi. "See? That's why he's the big leader guy." He chuckled softly, appreciating for the moment the man his brother had grown into during his own frequent absences.

 

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Traveling through the Ways was unlike anything that Toorc had ever experienced. One moment they were in a dense forest, the next a verdant plain, soon after that, a burnin desert. The colour of the sky shifted from a blue so brilliant that it hurt to look at it, to an emerald green, to a red the colour of blood. Ayslyn followed some unseen track, and Toorc followed him, ever mindful of the warning he had been given before stepping through the Gate.


Ancient and massive elementals of Earth and Air and Ice, the wisdom of Ages shining in their eyes came up and bowed low to him, calling out, "Safe journeys little brother." Turning to Ayslyn they called, "Safe journeys Champion." Ayslyn waved to them but didn't slow. Later a woman came up to them, her hair white as driven snow, delicately pointed ears peeking through it. Her skin was a dusky grey that Toorc had not seen before on an elf. She stode up to Ayslyn and walked beside him for a time. She whispered something to him, and he smiled wistfuly. "Soon, soon." he replied. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Falling back, she looked to Toorc, "Take care of him, please." she asked before falling away behind them.


"We're here," Ayslyn announced. There was a pair of trees standing before them, their branches entwined to form an archway. "From here we will come out near Humberton. We should get there right as we are Needed." He smiled as he began to trace the symbols on the trees to activate the Gate.

 

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"es, thank heaven for that." Azi smiled at Jashen and looked at Crispian. How did he manage to remain so collected and calm when it seemed the world was tumbling around him? Did she come across the same way? She laughed softly to herself.


"I'm so glad to see you Jashen," she whispered softly, suddenly realizing they hadn't properly greeted each other. "ou've been away for far too long." Her eyes flicked from time to time to the hallway as they waited.


"I pray we all come through this safely, perhaps we'll find out what life is like when one isn't being pommeled by epic events." She smiled as she peered again into the corridor to see the brother emerge from the darkness.

Tobyas was close on the heals of the monk, with Ceowyr in tow. Both looked a little worse for their ware, but seemed collected enough. Toby bowed a bit formally to Crispian in greeting. "Hail, Crispain, Azi! And Jash! I guess the end game must be near then?"


Crispian nodded slightly. "Aye, all too close I fear, and this could be ugly." His eyes took in Ceowyr, looking much changed, almost subdued compared to other times he had seen the cleric-knight in the League halls. "Hail Sir Ceowyr." His guard was immediately raised due to his association with Arcalan, but the cleric only bowed demurely.


"Cris, Toby, I know you two are big on talking, but we must act, a'right? So, without further ado, let's get this column mounted and ready to go," Jashen said, gesturing to the exit broadly. His smile indicated the jest implied, even as his action underscored the need to act.


With a self-mocking chuckle, Crispian turned on heel and led the way out of the church precincts and toward the North gate stables.

 

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As they passed Humberton Azi felt the cold wind blow down from the North. Chill and evil it was, and full of bitter whispers and maledictions. The light was gone from the sky.


____________________________


The water churned as the blue light rose steadily, and even now the dark shape could be seen at it's core.

"ASTAROTH!" Arcalan exclaimed "I am your flesh, your blood your soul, servant to your will as you command me. I am your hand, I am your eyes! I was blind, you made me see! I was deaf, you spoke to me! I was mute, you gave me voice, and I with it I speak of the glory of Astaroth!"


The sky above churned and heaved as clouds swirled together.


"Master, now it is time..."


The waves parted and the shimmering ethereal armor, three times as big as a man, broke the surface. The Vessel was prepared, it stood upright like a suit on display, awaiting it's lifeforce to enter into it.

Arcalan felt the lurch inside her as the entity she held in check burst forth and tore open the veil between worlds.


"BE REBORN!"


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In Hibernia the elves and lurikeen felt the Veil tremble and shudder, and Siabra let out a fearsome noise...


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In midgard the Spiritmasters looked to the stars and prayed in low voices, for the very fabric of the world trembled.


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In the Ways Toorc and Asylyn crouched low and held the ground beneath their feet. Wide golden waves rolled across the air above them and threatened to sweep them into oblivion. The pathway was obscured and a howling gale tore at them, but Ayslyn kept his wits and held firm. The golden energy flowed and churned and ebbed, dazzeling them with it's brightness and purity.


_____________________________


Aellona, long quiet in the guild hall since her soul was lost from it's body in her attempt at Astral Travel, flickered her eyes. A sigh escaped her lips, and her flesh moved once again.

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The Vessel glowed darkly.

Page 4 is a bad, bad place.


<bump>

It had been a limitless expanse of time since last he inhabited the earth. His posesson of Pompin has been but a small taste of this incarnation. With the Vessel, the true chance to store all his being in one place was realised.

As he drifted through the ether into the new host, the prison, his exile, collapsed and dispersed behind him. It's silver watery substance grew thin and vanished as he left it behind.


The Vessel glowed darkly.


Arcalan regarded the gigantic stature of her Master's new form, and thrilled to see it move with life imbued. The ancient writings upon it shed a dim red light, painful to the eye, yet she kept her face turned towards him.

Thinking quickly she dipped her hand into a pouch and felt the many cold metal rings she had there. She slipped a silver ring upon her hand, and passed one to Dandiar, telling him to do likewise. She also fetched out the relic, the remnant head of Astaroth's Staff, carved like a living serpent.


The Vessel moved, walking upon the water, and the last energies of Astaroth drained into it, filling it with immense power. In this body he would rule for ten thousand years, he looked upon the shimmering ethereal hand, half the strongest metal of earth, half the most potent soul ever to walk the land. It was the perfect combination. One task remained to place him even beyond the reach of God. The power that brought him across the worlds, the force that now returned to Arcalan, and rested deep inside her soul, this he would consume, that he might command the very fabric of reality.


"Arcalan" the first word from his new form. She was nearly overcome by the love and kindness, and that his first word in millenia was her name! Great and true was her master Astaroth!

"Hand me now my ancient staff, and together we will march upon the world, and rebuild it as our kingdom." Dandiar was in awe of that voice, for it spoke within him, stirred his passions, and he longed for it to speak again. Arcalan turned to Dandiar.


"Dandiar you have entered the service of the greatest of masters. Now bear him his rebirthright, and make yourself favoured among men." and smiling she gave Dandiar the box. Crispian, Azaeli, Tobyas, Tashtego, she would see them all vanquished. Dandiar she lent her grace to, for this simple offering the master would make him mighty indeed.


Dandiar stepped forward and took the staff-head from it's box, discarding the box into the sea. With both hands he reached up to his master, bearing aloft his gift.

Arcalan watched in utter horror. The pit of her stomache gave way to n endless emptiness, Her world fell apart.


Dandiar's corpse stood erect, the skin even now withering upon the bone, leatherlike and taught. The eyes bulged from their sockets and the hair clung to the scalp. His lips had been drawn back so that his teeth showed through in a deathly grin.


"Foolish Arcalan!" bellowed Astaroth "I told YOU to pass it to me!" a shimmering black hand plucked the staff head from the horrid remains of Dandiar and the air blazed as a blade of pure spirit formed in the hands of the Vessel. The staff head was fitted as a pommel, even as he spoke to her.

"I had meant it to be a painless affair, in light of your service, but power is diluted when it has a rival, and that soul of yours must be mine. What a shame you chose to make it hard on yourself..."


The black guantleted hand reached out for her screaming body. At the last second she threw heself backwards, down down beneath the waves, swimming with every once of strength. A bright light came from above, filling the surface of the lake, but she did not notice it...

Tashtego found himself in the thick of battle in the new lands, fellin Drakoran after Drakoran, collectin what they dropped and swiftly movin on ta the next. His mace foun its way an slew those thins tha stood against it. He kept this steady rhythmic motion up until he felt somethin callin him...


...an he answered the call, fer it came from his own Heart...his Gift, his Gift of Heart, beckoned him to a new place...a place tha required his presence...ta somethin tha should nae exist in this world, but did...He heard the voice...the Guardians voice...the One who stood at the Pillar of the Tree of Life, the one who held the Flame of God called him...Aleph, Yod, Uriel...He beckoned him an he obeyed without thought, fer he unnerstood tha this were the Will of God himself...


Tashtego rode hard fer Camelot, all the while feelin the thin tha should nae exist grow, but at the same time, feelin the Power of the Circle of All preparin him...fer wha? No matter tho, fer he would be there ta lend his power ta the fight for all the Good he could deliver...His steed led him ta the Gates of Camelot, an his feet carried him ta the Church where he felt them await...


Quickly enterin the Church, his eyes set with purpose, an his demeanor standin calmly on the edge o a knife, he glanced upon Crispian, an his fair Lady Azaeli and walked up ta them. "Good then, there ye two are...I assume we are jes about ready ta go? Time demands we move an act now, an I feel me services ar required in this."