Arcalan rode hard the first day, wanting to cover as much ground as possible. Far behind her in the night the Feast day of St. Crispin would be moving into it's night-time revels as she slowed the horse. Unable to travel further by night she stopped and made camp at a tower in the mountains, not far from Tepok's mine.

A quick supper was had, before she slipped up into the goblin's vantage point and made for the mine. Overseer Tepok would have a visitor tonight. If all was well, he may even see tommorow.

Her mind wandered to the simple amnesia stone she had created and Hecathia's adventures, for she was certain that rogue may take much attention onto herself, and away from Arcalan. Yes, this time was best, and she could be sure Jashen wouldn't be trailing her up to the mine. The amnesia really wasn't that hard to do.. her Master knew sorcery as well as any alive today, and surpassed any in cabbalah. She yearned for his vast knowledge, and took delight in his instruction, yet practicing amnesia herself she'd met with little success.


She entered the goblin camp above the mine with open contempt for them. They carried word to their master Grillik, but none would confront her openly. Suddenly one broke off and made it's way out to her, strutting and working itself up for a confrontation. A welsh hobgoblin, stronger by far than it's kinfolk here.

In broken English it yelled "Starp! Wha' be your biz-ness" it's hand was reaching for a scimitar by it's side, and it's gruesome face clearly showed it had treachery in mind.

With a word Arcalan dropped it to the ground, mystic threads wrapping around the creature, tangling it's moement. Five other goblins rushed forward but stopped as she looked up at them, and kept a defensive stance with their spears. Arcalan motioned and filled the night with blazing energies, which formed into the shape of a huge man, immense but crudely shapen. Sappy the golem stood over the snarling Welsh Hobgoblin and then stamped one heavy foot down upon it. A glowing mist streamed from the goblin as it's yell was stifled, and Sappy soaked up it's revitalizing life energy.

Arcalan flashed a smile at the goblins still watching her warily. Tepok would know she was coming. She hoped he wouldn't try to cross her, but if he did... well, that could turn out to be a lot of fun too...


She descended into the mine. Llyn Barfog would be her destination tommorow.

As dawn graced the new day Arcalan Hemlos rode back towards Camelot. That foolish gremlin-spawn Tepok was short on the Arcanium he needed to extract from the mines, and Arcalan would have to see to it thatsome could be diverted from the amiths of Camelot. Her journey to Barfog would have to be postponed again, and this soured her mood further.

Returning to the Legaue Halls at early next eve she found Tashtego and Kanna, Azi's cousine, deep in conversation. She pulled a chair along side them, to see how the Feast day had gone.

They regaled her with tales of merriment, and the wedding of Rhizzia and Dracarn of the League, and again the merrymaking to be had there. Tashtego all the while looked worried. Arcalan pried to find out what ailed him, and at last he spoke of his short recent journey to save Azaeli from the clutches of trolls. His face darkened with anger as he spoke of the invaders, and it was clear it had been a hard fought battle. His own power had been called upon, for though he was an armsman, his tribe posessed ancient magics now lost to the Academy. His was among the rarest gifts, the gift of Heart, a power to heal others.

His power had been sorely tested in helping Azi, and Arcalan overdid the feigned horror to mask her anger that Tashtego had saved this meddling wench. It seems young Apolexia had been in trouble again too. The feast had been a lively day, and left a lot in it's wake...


Finally Tashtego moved onto the tale of Hecathia, whom he'd found broken and bleeding, floating downstream. When he told her of this Arcalan asked to see her immeadiately.

"e ha'e my permission, she's restin' in my room, but to be hon'st I know not if she e'en lives" he said bluntly.

Kanna was still merry from the mead she'd consumed, but she accompanied Arcalan and Tashtego to see the resting Hecathia.


Her wounds were severe. She lay stretched on the table Tashtego and Sergen had carried up to Tash's room, and her blood was clotted in sticky lumps on her forehead. After much examination of her wounds Arcalan decided to gamble by telling them she'd live, but may ntot awaken. It was true her head was badly hurt, and bones had begun to heal at odd angles. It'd take a healer to ensure that she would ever walk again. Her back had been near snapped in half above the pelvis, and Arcalan was no stranger to beatings and their effects. Battle and her own childhood had taught her a little.


A heavy burden lay on Tashtego. He desperately wanted to call on his gift of Heart again, but feared the strain it's invokation would cause so soon. Eventually Arcalan and Kanna persuaded him to rest a day.

"Aye verra well, I'llget tae ma tent then" he agreed

"ou'll do no such thing" countered Arcalan seeing an oppertunity "ou'll sleep in my chamber, I'll watch over Hecathia"

As they argued over this she began to bath hecathia's wounds. She knew that the reason the prayers of Christian clerics did her no good was because she was a child of another religion, a priestess no less. Eventually Tashtego gave in.


((More to follow but it's 2am! More tommorow))

Arcalan tidied a few things out of sight in her room. She paused over taking down the massive and ancient banner on one wall, and decided to leave it. It was only a mere hint of her Master's presence after all, and she didn't credit Tashtego as that much of a scholar.

Before she left the room she set a small cone of incense bruning in a small brass holder in the corner. It would give off a pleasing oder, but would also drug the sleep of Tashtego. It'd take hours to burn completely, and those hours wold be well spent by Arcalan.


She moved out of her room and called to Tashtego that all was ready for him, before she moved into his own chamber. He'd recently moved Apolexia's things into this room, to watch over her. Now Arcalan would have a whole night to rifle through both his posessions and Lexi's. Hecathia had unwittingly aided Arcalan much more than she would have conscious.

A glance at the comatose body assured Arcalan that short of Tashtego's powers that girl wouldn't be waking up. Her mind was deep down in the pits of sleep, where no normal traveller reaches in their nightly wanderings. It was a sleep that rest alone would not break.


The eve passed on, and Arcalan secured the door just in case. Tashtego would be the only one to come into his private chambers, but she was sure he would be sound asleep by now, and wouldn't wake till late next morn.


The moonlight streamed in through the window, and the League Hall was silent save for a crackling fire in the grate. The subdued night air of Camelot drifted gently through the rooms, and the League were all abed or else far from home.


She began methodically searching the posessions of Apolexia one by one, seeking more about her Grandfather. This would surely turn up something...

As her hand closed around a leather pouch hidden in a deep recess of Lexi's clothes chest, Arcalan smiled. She knew she'd found what she was looking for, and tipped out the contents of the pouch into her hand.

/sad widdle self bump

(( sorry arc =) ))


Lexi wandered the streets of the city for a bit, thinking about the past few days. When Tashtego and her sister azaeli said they thought the best thing for her was to leave her alone and not see her, she fell into a huge depression... actually trying to kill herself twice, and even murdering an old woman named Bethsaida, though she had been called back. She feared being alone... but now she realized she wasn't left alone, she was just given the chance to be more independant. Even still... she realized that she still had to tend to the cleric Rhizzia for another few weeks, so she walked up to Tash's room to move her stuff.


Grabbing her stuff, she realized something seemed wrong. Reaching into her clothes, she knew what it was. She had been learning how to write just recently, her sister tutoring her closely. Once she had learned how to write, she had decided to first put into writing what's led her to these moments. Her life as she knew it, drawing on the information that her cousin Anikka had told her, the information her grandfather Basaia had told her, the information she had gotten while talking to the citizens of Caer Ulfwych... but the small book she kept in one of her pouches was gone...


Lexi then sighed in relief, she knew it was a good idea to lock her book up. The key was something she knew she would never lose. She had fashioned the pendant Azaeli had given her into a small key, which she always wore around her neck. Just to make sure, Lexi checked her neck... but her neck was bare. Panicing, she looked around the floor, but nothing... she looked all over the room, nothing... Then she remembered...


The night Tash was attacked she was told to change robes by Crispian. The small necklace could have gotten tangled in the robe. She looked to the sky, it was getting dark. 'Who else could know?' she asked herself, looking to the girl on the table. 'Wow, you do look alot like Ilara, if you weren't unconscious, I could've swore you had taken it.' Lexi giggled. 'Nah, just in those other robes. I'll get it back in the morning.' Grabbing her stuff, Lexi left the room, closing the door behind her.

'Ilara... Ilara... Ilara...' the name echoed through her mind. She saw nothing but darkness, but the voice seemed to call on her... 'Ilara... Ilara... Ilara...' she knew that voice... that was that girl Apolexia that had caused her so much trouble, the one that had alerted the guild about her and her murder attempt on the one named Silkhands...


She tried to open her eyes, but she couldn't. She found herself not even breathing, she was just existing. Then she saw something, the moon. She was on it, looking around, seeing a figure in a cloak. 'ou are not done yet my servant, and although your wounds may never heal right, you can still do much...' The voice was colder than the snow of Snowdonia. The voice was high-pitched, as a banshee's. Ilara froze in terror at the figure. 'W, who are you?' finally finding the words. 'I am that which you seek. I am one that has power, and is willing to give it. You have proven to be faithful, and I shall restore you.' Ilara gathered her wits about her, smiling to the figure, knowing that she was in the presence of her Goddess Hecate. 'Let it be done, and I shall not fail you my Goddess.' The goddess of the moon, witchcraft, and the underworld looked at her. Ilara felt as if she was seeing through her, but said nothing. 'Remember child, if you do fail me, you shall regret it for all eternity... now GO!' speaking go Ilara felt the vision dissipate. She could hear Apolexia speaking to her, but she kept her eyes closed, saying nothing, and then Apolexia left the room.


Ilara opened her eyes, and went to stand on the table, but the pain in her head forced her back. The pain was horrendous, she could barely stay awake. She looked over across the table to a small desk, Tash's writing area. She had to get a message to Arcalan somehow. She forced herself off the table, getting to her feet she fell forward, her leg giving no support. She had to bite her lip hard, causing blood to come off it, in order to not scream in agony. She held her leg with both her hands, she could not feel it at all. It felt as if it wasn't even there, possibly shattered in pieces. She was surprised she could even move at all, it appears her back had healed, but the pain in her head was giving her problems. Crawling over to the desk, she pulled out a scroll and wrote:


'Arcalan. That which you seek is in the folds of her old robes, that Crispian has, I heard Apolexia mention it to me.'


Rolling up the scroll, she crawled to the door of the room and looked out. No one was around, the hall was quiet. Crawling downstairs, and over to Arcalan's room seemed to have taken hours, but she was able to deliver the scroll to Arcalan's room. Noticing Tash in the corner she panic'd, but then seeing him out like a light, she sighed in relief. Crawling over to Arcalan's study, she had a bad feeling. She looked around, then saw Arcalan bending her knee's looking directly at her.


"Hm... you awoke. Now that is interesting. More interesting is that you are crawling about my room in the middle of the night... would you care to tell me why?" her eyes looking as cold as the eyes of her goddess. Looking over, she saw the small book that Apolexia must've referred to. Arcalan had apparently not found a way to open it yet. The lock being made from pieces of the pendant, the pendant given to Azaeli when she first entered the church... the holy powers hidden inside it must be preventing her from breaking the lock. "Th.. th... oll..." she tried to speak, but her head not letting the words come to her, passing out in front of Arcalan due to weariness and extreme pain, the scroll in her hand falling loose on the floor...

A stone hand swiftly caught the limp form of Hecathia, even as a flesh hand wrapped around the scroll.

The golem servant moved with amazing agility for it's form and bulk, and scooped Hecathia up into it's arms. Arcalan meanwhile unfurled the scroll and read it.

A long time seemed to pass before she decided what must be done. Hecathia was proving too faithful to let her die, and besides, Arcalan had promised to watch over her. Tashtego's powers would seemingly be unneeded since Hecathia was awake, but the damage seemed irreperable by the priests of the Nailed One. Arcalan smiled, knowing that friars and clerics were not the only ones who could mend flesh and bone.


Taking Hectahia back to Tashtego's chamber she lay her again on the master table. She was too intent to notice the removal of some of Apolexia's objects from the room. Her mind worked furiously at her most recently acquired skill, and she drew deep from within herself. Arcalan felt pain and weakness flood her body as her life force ebbed away from her. She almost swooned at the strain, but she was stronger than Hecathia, and the process wasn't as long as she feared.

On the table Hecathia's body twitched as wounds knit together, and bones realigned in the shape they once held. The life-force of Arcalan was transferred to cure her, in a process much the same as a lifetap stealing vitality to heal the caster. Arcalan had studied well, and her teacher was the greatest in the world. Hecathia's eyes fluttered open as Arcaln sunk into a chair, temporarily exhausted by the effort. Her Golem servant stood close by, for even in this moment Arcalan feared treachery in her weak state.


Her mind was bent upon Crispian Pontiff, who had been almost avoiding her of late. She hadn't laid eyes on him since he slew D'Vean, and she could not help but think that was deliberate. She was still pondering how to get that key from him when Hecathia sat upright, her eyes blazing with renewed vigour.

Surely, thought Hecathia, the goddess has led me to this woman for a reason.

Crispian surveyed the dispatches and reports his agents had placed in his hands. So many thought they could do so much without observation, without detection. He tapped a rolled scroll against his lips as he frowned.


The League was his first concern. Always. His first love, his passion, even beyond Albion, but not by much there. He considered all he was learning and smirked. Some people had so much to learn that a campaign or two could teach, but petty little back alley politics and deciets never could.


He sat down at his desk and issued forth replies he would deliver himself later. The hardest one would take him somewhere he needed to go anyhow, Emain Macha.


Slinging his cloak over his shoulders and fastening it to the heavy metal rings on his breastplate, he slipped down the back stairwell of the League hall and out into the brisk Camelot day.

 

-----signature-----

Deep in the heart of the earth Toorc sighed.

The demonic babble around him was driving him to the brink of madness, yet it seemed the Grand Summoner Govannon listened to them and by their hideous noises could make out what was happening in the world above him.

Daily it seemd his army of the dead grew stronger, and it was only a matter of time before the surface world would be his to control. Toorc was certain he'd have to escape but he'd not seen any penetrate this far into the Summoner's Hall before.


He swung from the ceiling in a cage his magics could not bend to his will, and thought hard upon the League. the feast day of the saint must be approaching, by his reckoning of time, though it was hard to say how long he'd been a captive. He assumed he was thought to be dead. No, no rescuer would come to his aid.


His eyes turned back upon the demonic cohort of Govannon, and he watched as the bulk of them left the hall. It was surely his imagination that as they slipped out he saw a small thin figure run across the edge of the wall, wasn't it? Or was this elf he swore he saw, a messenger to the Summoner? he looked hard again but could see nothing in the darkness. Wailing chattering noises filled the chamber again, and he slumped back against his bars, delerious from starvation and thirst.


___________________________________


Arcalan had left Hecathia to recouperate fully on her own. She had enough to worry abot before the girl begged anymore favours from her. This good deed would impress the League too she hoped, for already Kanna had let it slip how kind she thought Arcalan was, and added accidently "I wonder why Azi says..."

Arcalan smiled at it. She recalled telling her that Azaeli had every reason to distrust her, afterall bad feelings from that time were bound to remain with Azi. Little did that foolish Paladin and her adopted sister know what was in store for their precious household. Every evil act Arcalan had commited had been neatly within D'Vena's time, and since then she'd been a shining example of the League in word and deed.


Thinking of deeds she double checked that the shipment of metals was being sent to Llyn Barfog, in time for Tepok to hijack it. All was in preperation wih the merchant when she saw Crispian stride through the street. She was certain that was his cloak!

She began to push through the crowded streets and yelled out to him.

"Lord Crispian! Lord Crispian! Please.. I would speak with you Sir!"

/bump just because =)