Skatha

As Skatha mounted her trusty steed, the raven spirit settled on her shoulder and dropped a parchment in her hand........ its gentleness pleased her, since she had been the instrument of its death. Her memory would forever be haunted -- she had wrongly assumed it was messenger of a dark rider. And, in the end. it had turned out to be just that.

Scanning quickly for pertinent content, she read of Marcius' plight. At last she had something definite to work with. Although not as well known for her magic and Eowyna, she knew the mixing or herbs and reagents to make soothing salves and liquids, and carried with her the bandages that carried the waters of the fountain of life.

Skatha determined that she must, for the present, abandon the search for Eowyna and the Bandit King, and proceed at once to the temple of his goddess. Time being of the utmost importance, she packed a few supplies that would be needed, a bit of food and water, and began her journey.

The horse was fresh, the air crisp and cool in the pre-dawn mist, the ride a welcome relief from the stress of the past few days.

"Athiyk, lead uns'aa ulu dosst jabbuk, Usstan beg d' tau, tlu hasty," she whispered, "nindol z'hind xal determine l' dro, xor l' elghinn, d' dosst jabbuk."

The spirit of the raven penetrated the very being of the horse, the hooves obeying, a turn here, a cutoff through the woods there, complying fully with the directions given by the spirit raven.

The journey continued for hours (or was it days; Skatha knew not) , stopping only occasionally to feed and water the horse, to share bread with the raven, wine and cheese for Skatha. The three of them skirted the mountains, fought bandits and monsters alike, and finally passed through the gates, coming closer to the ruined temple.

Skatha dismounted, bowed low before the entrance, silently seeking the permission of his Goddess, Kiaransalee, that she might enter and tend to him. The spirit raven had accomplished his mission -- to bring help to his master. He was no longer visisible to her.

Miacus

Grumble incoherently and makes a general pain of himself in utter boredom. "I cant stand this form, its worse then being alone on that quest with no one to talk to but the damned dead walking the halls" hovers over his physical form "and my body looks fine, except for the blood, but I'm a vampire or so you said I was" shakes his head and continues to wait for the help he needs.

Skatha

With the reins tied securely to a post, Skatha took the saddle bag and entered the temple. Darkness engulfed her, adjusting her sight to this was not easy, and after a few moments she saw once again the spirit of the raven, glowing softly as it led her through passages and hallways, some lighted with the soft flicker of a candle flame, others seemed to plunge her into total darkness. Yet she continued.

At long last, the spirit raven passed through a doorway. She opened the door......... and saw in the center of the large room, what appeared to be a sacrificial altar; upon it... the still, cold body of Maicus.

Kneeling next, she bowed her head, closing her eyes........... the long, slender elven fingers splayed, moving a few inches above the body, seeking the life force within, asking all the gods to grant her the serenity, the wisdom, and the power needed.

It was still there, though nearly extinguished. Her lips met his, passing breath from her body into his time and again..... A tremor, ever so slight, passed through his body.. "Yes," she whispered, "Ye can be healed, dear drow, let the spirit remain here with us."

drawing forth the reagents and other resources needed, Skatha carefully blended them to a smooth paste, and with a touch so light he did not feel it, she applied the ointment to his wounds.. covering them ever so carefully with bandages, she sat back.

She sung the healing until her throat burned, and continued thustly for hours. As she felt the life force begin to flourish, she knelt back against her heels, eyes closing, she toppled forward, her head against his chest.

"It has begun, the healing" she whispered. She slept then..... her head upon his chest, one hand over his heart, kneeling beside him, she slept...........

The spirit of the raven sat upon his shoulder, not moving... simply waiting.

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Haterade: A trace vitamin that restores your ability to continue hating long after most people would give it up.

Eowyna Rohanna

Eowyna stood once again on the balcony of the house in Yew looking out across the forest. Were they out there? She didn't think so. The black riders had been scattered, and hopefully it would take them a little time to regroup. She had sent a message off to Miacus by way of Flynn, but the bird had returned with the message tube still intact. This was worrisome indeed.

It seemed Miacus had bought them some time--valuable healing time. Eowyna glanced back over her shoulder and through the arch into the bedroom and at the man lying in the bed covered in soft furs. He drifted in and out of consiousness, occassionally speaking a few meaningless phrases--something about calming elixirs, weddings,diamonds, and some ratman general. She had done what she could, consulted the Heartwood healers, sung the healing songs that she knew. And he was better--his skin now cool to the touch, the magic assisting the knitting of broken bones and torn muscles. The alchemist in Heartwood had mixed a small supply of potions to releive pain, so he rested easier. Tomorrow should see some improvement. At least she hoped so--for the Drow riders would be back, that was certain. And they knew this area; they had tracked her here before and would know where to look.

Absently she fingered the things he's had stowed away on his person..some poisoned throwing stars, several small blades, smelly smoke bombs and a few trinkets of unknown origin or purpose--whatever was this small octagonal object with a threaded hole in the center? Eowyna smiled a little--the odd things males collected and seemed to think valuable! The parchment was another matter--the phrase made sense, but lacked any reference. She had no idea what it pertained to or how he'd come by it, but something told her this small clue was important. She wrote a cover letter to Skatha expressing her concern over Miacus and enclosed her original message to him, along with a copy of the words on the parchment scrap, explaining that she felt it might be important enough to follow up on. Then she sent Flynn on his way to carry what little information she had to the Enclave. She'd not mentioned where they were, just in case the message was intercepted.

Then she turned her attention back to Maddux. Bandages were changed, healing herbs and salves applied. Then she sat on the floor beside the bed and watched him. More than anything she wished to see him open his eyes and look upon her with recognition of where he was and what had happened. She laid her head upon the edge of the fur covering and waited.

Eowyna Rohanna

She must have slept, although she hadn't meant to, for the dream was what wakened her. Such a startling dream!

She checked quickly on Maddux. He seemed to be resting more comfortably now, but he still hadn't fully regained consiousness.

The nature of the dream disturbed her, for she knew it was a true dream. She hadn't totally forgotten that she should be on the trail of the Armageddon spell. So she set quill to parchment and wrote out the details to send to the Justicars. Perhaps they would follow this lead. She had seen the spirit of the freed demon deep in Hythloth--and he was speaking to those who made the effort to find him. Perhaps valuable information could be obtained.

As she release the bird to carry the message to the Enclave, she scanned the nearby forest for signs of the black riders...so far nothing. She wasn't sure if that was good, or bad. If they were trailing her, then the Justicars had time to visit the demon spirit... On the other hand, Maddux wasn't close to being able to travel. A dilema.

Miacus

Eye lids fluttered open slightly before closing again, raspy gasp of breath as air began to fill his lungs. Breath escaped his lips as he spoke in a dry raspy voice whispered incoherent words before silence once more. Eyes open to reveil the milky whites of blindness.

And still the spirit hovered over his physical form and that of Skatha's sleeping form. "why wont you let me go back? what do I have to accomplish as a spirit Kiaransalee?" frown deepened on that wraith like face. He reached out a transparent hand to brush a stray strand of hair from Skatha's face. "so kind to help one you distrusted only moments ago" pulls away as he sees the emblem on his hand glow through the gloves. "they've come here, Skatha you must awaken now and leave here" He send a silent message to Eowyna across this spiritual plane. "the riders are in the temple and Skatha is unconcious, send help here"

Eowyna Rohanna

Quite suddenly, there were words in her head--urgent words! Kiaransalee's Temple--so that's where they were, and help was urgently needed. And once again messenger birds winged their way to the Enclave informing whomever might be there of the need to mount an armed expedition to the ruined temple. Perhaps Ann.......

Miacus

in despiration he spread his mind to the undead that inhabited the halls of the temple, calling on them to protect the alter room from the riders who have entered. Silent whispers and moans where his answer to request. He could feel the very walls come to life, the only door into the alter room slammed shut and locked them within. "thank you my goddess, once she has finished the healing I will take them out of here and keep this room safe from them once more"

He glanced down at the still silent form of Skatha, watched as her chest raised and lowered with each breath. Asmall smile crept across his physical forms lips and a hand layed itself gently on her head. "Rest easy Justicar, help comes"

Miacus

His eyes flared open wide and alert to his surroundings. "How did I come to be in my goddess's temple" H had no clear knowledge of anything that had transpired after he helped Eowyna and Maddox escape the riders at the shrine. He looked around a comfused look on his face.

"I hear the dead speaking, Thank you Kiaransalee for this gift" he looked down and saw the sleeping form of Skatha, her head on his chest. "why is she here?" he saw the dried blood that stained both the floor and his armor. And the soft glow of the symbol on his hand. "they are here, and nearby. Whats is that? you are protecting the temple on my orders??" strange as it seemed to him he didnt argue with the dead, just laid there and rested, absently running his fingers through Skatha's hair. "Anh Mi Sah Ko" he used his own meager energies to finish the healing that had been started and slipped into fitful rest, his fingers still absently running through her hair.

Eowyna Rohanna

FOR ANNWFN GWYDDEN:

Ann read the message that had just arrived with some trepidation. This Drow was in some trouble in the temple of his own goddess? And Eowyna wanted someone to send him assistance? Ann shook her head in exasperation. There was important work to be done here, and everyone seemed to be missing the point! The knowledge of the great spell of Armageddon was out there to be had by the first person to unravel the mystery. The Elves wanted it; the Drow wanted it; even the edan probably wanted it, although she doubted very much they had much more intelligence when it came to magic than orcs. For all she knew perhaps the orcs wanted it too!

She tossed the message on the table. Skatha didn't seem to be about. She wasn't able to locate the warlord, Izual. Marzan, Beetle, and Honor Frost were likewise no where to be found. With all the senior leadership of the Justicars absent, that left--herself! She'd spent her day trying to locate the cook in Zento who might have valuable clues about the nature of Armageddon. Was she the only one who cared? Eowyna seemed to have lost her path and was off playing nursemaid to the Bandit King, who had always proved well able to fend for himself. Miacus, lost on his own holy ground--well, who would trust someone who followed a Drow goddess anyway? And now, Skatha, usually a clear-thinking competent commander, gone and away without a word! Alright then. There was no one else to carry out this misguided request, so she must do it herself.
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She entered the outer halls of the ruined Temple to the goddess Kiaransalee. The atmosphere was close and oppressive, filled with the restless spirits of many dead. Ann couldn't actually see them, but she felt them press all around her. Either her own imagination was running rampant, or the undead were abnormally active. Then, from deep within the temple, she heard the loud rumble of stone doors sealing with an echoing thud--the vibration could be felt throughout the building. There followed a silence--but it was not an empty silence. Her horse shied, reared, and it took her just a moment to bring him back under control. He continued a restive dance, the hooves echoing on stone. She didn't want to admit that she felt almost as spooked as the animal.

Just when she thought she had control of her own fear and that of the horse, a rushing sound of wind swooped through the abandoned hallways coming toward her with great speed. She felt herself and her mount borne up upon the wind and wisked backward and unceremoniously dumped outside the entrance, the great stone doors of the entrance sealing themselves with yet another resounding thud. The horse bolted, and as she picked herself up off the ground, and retrieved her bow, she heard voices. Voices upon the wind itself, and they simply said "unworthy". She pounded on the stone doors but they stood silent and unyielding. It would be a long walk home....

--------Ann