The Dark Crystal (Anyone)

OoC: I think we’ve made Drammor gag with all this cheese though.

BiC:
“Khaz, you are wonderful! So perfectly, incredibly wonderful!”

He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been expecting such a reaction from just a few words, but the girl nuzzled him now with lavish affection. Now that he was actually thinking again, he did remember how she seemed so tense around the subject of her species. Had she really been afraid he would dislike it? She had been clenched to him rather fearfully when her wings appeared. It must have been an accident that she let them show.

Her wings twitched when he touched them and they fluttered rapidly for a moment with her happiness. That was just cute. He smiled and squeezed her back a little, content in sharing this joy with her. But then his heart dropped.

This wasn’t real.

She thought he was perfect. Incredible. Wonderful. That was all a lie. He was just a klutzy, lecherous fool. All his supposed cleverness and usefulness had all been because of Takai. All a part of something that was … tainted. He was never sure whether to call Takai evil. What he did he would only do to very carefully selected persons. It still felt like there was a monster inside of him.

Just a monster that hunted other monsters.

It wasn’t just Takai though. Those times when he would get so angry … he wanted to release Takai upon his enemies. He wanted them to die in the worst ways imaginable. That was something they most often agreed on. Anger was what the two of them shared. When one felt the rage so did the other. Anger, pain, and fear were what connected them, like some grotesquely joined twins. That was when he couldn’t tell which were his feelings and which were Takai’s.

He wanted the same thing Takai did. So he was just as tainted as the monster inside him. They had once been the same person, so it was no surprise.

All of that, Leonna knew nothing of.

It was the same thing all over again. Malon and all those girls he had seduced. They all loved only certain pieces of him. The bright and shiny lie that masked all the ugliness underneath. And he had done it again. Unable to control his loneliness he kept luring them in, and then when they would get too close to the truth he’d run away.

But for now, he would just let it be. They had to get out of this place first before he could worry anymore about the future. He had to make sure there would be a future to worry about.

So he continued to smile and lie for her.

He finally told her that they had to go back now. So he led her back to the others with him. He announced that he was now ready to continue. So he grabbed his bag and marched on, leading them once more.

In all truth, it wasn’t just his weapon that made Rontu face death. Though Verta Sael was definitely important to him in a way that was difficult to describe. It was given to him by a man he had thought to be a noble at the time. A complete stranger had handed him this irreplaceable weapon and walked away. It had traveled with him through many strange phases of his life. But it wasn’t the only reason he was doing this anymore.

The more he thought about the drow and that crystal the more he found himself on Adurna’s side. He wanted to destroy it. This desire had crept upon him slowly as they had traveled through the passages. The longer he spent there the more he wanted to foil their plans. Who knows how many the drow could kill and harm with the crystal. How powerful it was supposed to be he wasn’t sure. He had a large debt to pay though. He had once been one of them. Though he knew he had never killed anyone he would term as innocent, he had once nearly assassinated a high elf princess. The only reason he hadn’t killed that girl was because he had been stopped.

He told himself that was why he was doing this, but at times he still wasn’t sure. He just knew he had to do it. The crystal was pulling him forward like some kind of magnet. It pulled at something buried deeply within. He was sure Ren and Takai and Khaz would all feel the same way. He had a feeling Kuldr Adurna was getting cold feet though, which was one of the reasons he hadn’t shared the truth with him. Leonna didn’t know what waited for them either, all she knew was that whatever weapon she had once was nearby it. If she knew what he was about to do to get them back she probably would not think it was worth risking her life.

He needed their magic though. Their light and fire magic was something he needed, and so he wasn’t going to tell them the whole truth. He was going to use them and they might die. In the end, he was just a drow. A conniving, deceitful dark elf.

Khaz led them through four more rooms until he warned them to fall back into the act again because they were coming up on the crystal chamber which would have guards around it. So he and Leonna followed behind him, Ren and Adurna followed them. They passed the guards up just as easily as before and entered the room.

It was massive. The crystal and the room. Rontu wasn’t really too terribly surprised. He was aware what he was about to attempt was incredibly stupid. He had no idea how he was to even destroy it yet. Despite this his mind was calm. No doubt or worry really stopped him from doing this. All that filled him was the desire and the strange feeling of faith. He knew that somehow it would work out. Perhaps the Elohim gods were with him today. All he had to do was act.

The show was to begin now.

He led them directly up toward the crystal, heading for its nearest face. Aware that his companions would start to get nervous and confused now. When he had crossed half the distance he stopped. He whipped around and grabbed Khaz, pulling him away from the others and drawing the stolen blade from his side. He held it up against Khaz’s throat and backed away from the rest of them.

“Rontu!” cried Khaz without thinking. “Wh-what are you doing?!”

“Use that brain of yours. What do you think he is doing?”

It seemed like … but no. Rontu would never—oh! Everything clicked into place. At least lying was actually really useful now. He didn’t know what Rontu planned to do with this, but he trusted him and would act along with it.

Rontu didn’t answer him. Instead he called out to the rest of the drow that surrounded them. “I have brought the escaped prisoners back to you! Now bring me a priestess and allow me to redeem myself!”

He turned his frosty cold eyes back to his companions. It was easy to do this. All he had to do was remember what it was like to be empty. To act like a shell of a person again. If his face before seemed impassive and cold, it was nothing like it was now. It was completely devoid of any emotion. His gold eyes were lifeless and blank. Before there was something to see in them. A personality that had made them alive.

“Surrender yourself or he dies,” he commanded calmly, and then spoke to the drow approaching them. “Bind them.”

(OOC: The cheese is finally eaten. And Drammor, you can stop PMing me to post. I can't post between 9:30 PM and 1:00 PM the next day in Atlantic time.)

I reluctantly followed Rontu into the next hallway, still pondering that we we're most likely headed to our graves. The dark pulse still messing with my mind. After some time we entered the crystal chamber itself. The dark crystal itself was even bigger than I imagined. It was about 20 feet wide and 32 feet high, with ledges and walkways surrounding it everywheres. The top of the crystal was flat, where a bloodstained altar stood watched over by a high priestess. An altar to Lolth.

Curious, I looked around trying to find the dead body of the maniac killer. There we're so many drow in the area though, I started to think they took his body away, but then in a small clearing infront of the crystal I saw a dead body which most likely wasn't drow. He was too far away to properly examine, but I could tell he was stabbed and had numerous siringes and drugs around him. I was about to pay attention to Rontu again when I noticed something odd. At the entrance to one of the tunnels stood the very same man. But he was alive. Moreover, he appeared to be looknig straight at us.

How is that possible? He's dead right there... So how can there be two of him? My mind must be playing tricks on me. Everythings part of that crystal's evil in here.

My thoughts we're interupted by Rontu drawing his stolen sword. He pulled Khaz away from the others and held the sword up to his throat.

“Rontu! Wh-what are you doing?!" cried Khaz.

I accesed the magic in my mind, even if using it without adequate resources could cripple me, it would be worth it to kill Rontu if he attacked Khaz.

Rontu didn't answer Khaz. Instead, he raised his voice so every drow nearby could hear.

“I have brought the escaped prisoners back to you! Now bring me a priestess and allow me to redeem myself!”

I was shocked. How could Rontu do this?

I knew it! He was playing with us the whole time. just like this particular clan of dark elves. Their all traitors. I was right!

“Surrender yourself or he dies,” he commanded, and then spoke to the drow approaching them. “Bind them.”

I couldn't stand this. I was not playfully falling into Rontu's scheme. Without warning I snatched Ren's sword before he could tighten his grip, and held it up straight.

"Rontu, what the hell are you doing?! After all your friends have done for you, you're just going to leave them to be sacrificed?! I'm not letting you do that. All the drow are the same. Backstabbing liars. It would be better if you all we're... Eradicated."

Then without warning I lunged at Rontu.


(OOC: Heh heh, Rontu's plan might be screwed up because Kuldr is too narrow minded on the subject of drow to realize Rontu's plan. )

Oh ****. Ren also knew exactly what Rontu was doing, but of course the stuck-up prick wouldn't know any better. Before he knew it, the high elf had snatched the blade from his side and was lunging at Rontu.

The half-dragon lunged after him, being faster than Adurna due to his blood, he tackled him to the ground. On top of him he hissed but loud enough for the drow to hear, "Stop it, you'll get Khaz killed!"

And then he looked up to glare with the upmost loathing. He just had to think of all the drow he did want to kill and put them in the place of Rontu. Soon the other dark elves were upon them, pulling him off Adurna and roughly binding them once more. They pulled the high elf off the ground, blades pointed at them all, and bound them.

OoC: Ren to the rescue.

OoC: Fuzzy wuzzies are an indangered species in this thread aren't they? Sorry, everyone X.X

BiC:

It seemed as if Khaz would never stop confusing me. He had given me so much more than I deserved, and yet...he was unhappy. I could feel it in his empty smile, how it did not quite reach his eyes. There was something hollow there, something that kept happiness from reaching it.

And that was wrong; so very, very wrong. I had wanted to comfort Khaz, and here I was, about to explode when he felt so empty. It stung horribly to think that I had done nothing for him when I felt like this. It was wrong. But then again, what had I been expecting? Never had I been able to make another human being happy...why would Khaz suddenly change that? Just because he was kind to me did not change the fact that I was entirely inept when it came to other people. He needed someone who really could make him happy, someone like...his Leita.

I wanted to talk to Khaz, really talk to him to see what was bothering him so much. That look on his face was the same one I had seen just before he left to aquire the noble's clothes, one that hid the truth that made him so hollow. But of course that could not be allowed. Khaz ran us back to the others before I could utter another word. I barely had time enough to pull my wings back in again.

It was a small relief to see that no one questioned us. Once again, it was if nothing at all had happened. Rontu led the front again, and I followed beside Khaz, trying hard not to think about all the things I wanted to say to him. The farther we went in, the more I felt it, the dark aura of the crystal. My whole body repelled the force, tensing the air around me. Despite all that had happened, there was still one thing I knew for certain. I would not allow it to consume us, no matter what I would have to do.

And then we were in the massive crystal chamber. We were only halfway there to the crystal when the unimaginable happened. Without warning, Rontu grabbed Khaz, placing his blade at Khaz's throat. He shouted to all of the other drow in the area, who were quick to surround us.

I do not...this does not...it cannot be real! Rontu! What is he doing? I was entirely at a loss. Sure, Rontu was a drow, but he was not a traitor. So why was he holding Khaz hostage like this?

“Khaz!” I reached out to him but moved no closer, knowing his life was in danger. Or was it? Would Rontu really do such a thing? His eyes said yes, but...even if that was so...Rontu was not...

And how should I know? I have known him less than a day! How would I know what is in his heart? Why did I assume that I knew Khaz's?

“Don’t make assumptions about them! Don’t act so high and mighty when you know nothing about who they are. You see their appearance and words and assume you can already judge the depth of their character? These are good people, though rough around the edges, or I wouldn’t have wasted my time on them! What Ren is really saying is that he wouldn’t kill someone innocent like you; and Rontu acts like he doesn’t care but if you were going die he’d save you—so shut up!” Khaz's words rang hard in my ears, almost as if he had spoken them aloud again. It violently shattered my doubts, refusing to let them exist.

I trust him...

Kuldr acted before I could do anything. He lunged at Rontu, trying to protect Khaz, and Ren tackled him to the ground.

What is going on? What is it that Rontu wants me to do? I stiffened as the drow came and bound me, staring helplessly at Rontu. What do you want me to do? Against all reason I give you my trust...just tell me, somehow...

OoC: Well...er...can't say I know what Rontu's plan is, either...

(OoC: Ohh, that explains so much. I was getting worried... thought you might have abandoned us.)

On time. There was the drow, the heretic, leading the group of escaped prisoners, toward the dark crystal. He stopped a ways from it, and called out to the room. Omen hadn't fully been paying attention at the moment, since he was safe under the ward of his Ignore Me spell. No one could notice him like this, without knowing specifically who to look for, so he was safe among the teeming numbers of the drow. He didn't have to pay attention to anything but the half-dragon.

All in all, Omentus thought this specimen looked rather scrawny. Obviously not an ideal hybrid, but it was still part dragon. He could hear the last half of what the heretic was saying. There was an awkward pause in the room, followed by some infighting with the prisoners, when they realized they'd been betrayed. As the half-dragon tackled the elf to the ground, the mountain shook with the sound of nearby thunder. Time was up; the entire room that once belonged the Lady of Malstra had exploded, taking a relatively sizable chunk of the mountain with it.

An entire room (belonging to an important dark elf, no less) and the all the wards in it that had been transformed into a magical time bomb was a powerful thing. A plume of smoke and dust rose up from the mountain when the blast hit, sounding throughout the area with a long-lasting thunderous peal. The shockwave rocked the tunnels in the mountain; gouts of fire and clouds of smoky dust exploded into the crystal chamber from four of the passages that led further into the mountain. A rolling ran through the ground, forcing to Omentus to relearn his sea legs to stay balanced, and two of the stony-web catwalks plummeted from above. Omentus was glad he didn't have to move for them... the dark elves in the room seemed rather upset about the literal tons of stone webbing plunging for their heads.

The seromancer pulled his eyes across the non-draconic escapees. A pale human hostage, a fair skinned elf with a bit of armor, and a pale skinned woman with bright eyes... a traveler, from the look of her clothing. Nope, nothing special here... I hope the mutt has something better to show me.

Rontu wasn’t surprised when Adurna thought his act was real. He didn’t need him to understand that this was a plan. He’d learn differently soon enough.

And then the explosion happened.

It felt as if it made the whole mountain shake. The blast came from the west by southwest side of the room a story up. Smoke, fire, and rocky debris flew out into the crystal chamber. They were about 500 feet from it so they avoided most of the damage and flying pieces of earth. Rontu and Khaz fell to the ground due to the unexpected thunderous boom and the sudden shaking roll of the mountain. Ren wobbled, barely managing to keep his footing.

The noise and unstable ground shook his mind for several moments. He hadn’t been expecting that. Why was there an explosion? They certainly had nothing to do with it—And then he remembered the intruder, though Khaz had told him he should be dead by now. Of course, he could have set it to go off after a certain amount of time whether or not he was alive.

Though he hadn’t expected it, he couldn’t have asked for anything better. His original plan was to ambush a priestess while Leonna and Adurna caused as much damage and chaos as they could with their light magic. But this was even better than that. In all this chaos it would be much easier to move about. Once most of the noise had passed, he sat up and shouted to Leonna and Kuldr Adurna.

“Leonna, fire!” And he prayed she’d remember what he had told them earlier.

Ren snapped his binds by ripping his hands apart. They fell from him like scraps of twisted wet paper. He grabbed the drow from behind him, bending his back forward he rolled and flipped the man over his shoulder and onto the floor, where he then stomped on his throat. He was closest to Adurna so he darted over to him. He thrust a fist into the drow who had bound him and it went right through the dark elf’s torso in a burst of blood and flesh. He reached over with his other hand and ripped the bindings off the high elf as the drow slid limply off his arm. He trusted Leonna would burn hers like she had before.

OoC: Post POST Post Post Post!!!

BiC:

The explosion caught me completely off gaurd. It was as if the mountain had suddenly awakened, finally moving from its dead state. Rock was craking everywhere as the ground shook, and fire was bursting from four different passages that led into the chamber. The noise was horrendous, like this dark world was about to collapse in on itself.

“Leonna, fire!” Rontu's voice rang out of the chaos, forcing me into action. The violent tearing of the earth had caused me to fall, but it was the same for just about everyone else. I stood back up again, willing my fire to manifest itself as an answer to Rontu's call.

He wanted me to fight, and this time, I was not going halfway. Capture was not an option this time...it was either victory or death. I let my energy flow freely now, feeling the surge of it as I released my wings again. The flame on my hands burned my bindings in seconds, and I turned to the drow around me, a determined smile on my face.

"This mountain was once ruled by flame, and its return will consume you!" My fire turned white hot as I shouted this, causing the drow to flinch from its intensity. I had been pulled away from the others when they bound me, giving me enough space to effectively use my flame, so I allowed the plasma dripping from my hands to grow much hotter than before. With a shout, I threw it into the nearest drow gaurds, lighting them aflame like candles. The metal armor they wore turned red hot, even melting onto their flesh...

Everyone wanted me to delete this. So here you go

(OoC: Imagine my surprise when I logged in and found that you had deleted the entire content of another post, Stick. After a little research, I found the conversation between you and Shrub about it, too. So please, since you seem to have some misconceptions, let me see if I can clear them up for you. And these elucidations aren't just for you; they're for everyone who is interested in having a character here.

First, most people like to play really awesome characters who are good at everything and always have an answer to any situation. Very few people like to play with folks that have those characters. Often, they're referred to as Mary Sues and they usually lack a certain creative trait referred to as "flaws" and "vulnerability to the world around them". Every time I make a character, I run it through two different Mary Sue litmus tests to make sure it probably doesn't fall under this category and then I run the entire character concept past no less than four other people, just to make sure that I'm not creating a character that is too powerful or unrealistic in some way.

Next is character power level. This is a relative and imprecise figure, but can generally be sorted into "low, medium and high". For this, it is important to know the qualifiers of high power, and to know that the more of them you have, the more powerful your character is. One of them is versatility. The more versatile a character, the more powerful the character. One is skill. The more skilled in each area that a character has at his disposal the character is, the more powerful he is. One is strength. The physically stronger a character is, the more powerful the character is. One is intelligence. The fewer clues a character needs to figure something out, the more powerful it is. One is limits. The fewer limits the character has, the more powerful it is. Next, are qualitative-quantitative words. These are things like "never", "always", "almost" and numbers like "one", "ten", "hundreds" and "thousands". The placement of these words is the most important thing, but it's important to remember that never and always are very strong words, which can have a significant impact on a character's abilities. Qualifying a "never" with "almost" is rarely a good fix, because saying that something "almost never" happens to a character is effectively the same thing as saying "never" happens to a character.

Now, there's experience. Maybe you've had a look at some of the existing characters on ZU and said to yourself, 'Hey... that character is really freaking powerful and awesome. So if I make my character only half as good as that one, I should get kudos for making a weaker character.'. The problem is this statement is that you could be looking at Rain, Zorlo or Cadenza. These characters are ridiculously powerful, and any character with even a tenth of the power of these monsters is not really fitting for a new character in ZU. Go look at Wisp Quill. See if you can find the original version, or just look at that one, or any of her other characters. For some bizarre reason, it seems like she’s been banned, but her characters are still top notch for their starting power level and the amount of detail she’s put into them. So here’s the deal. Start with a character, and it will become gradually more powerful as you play it in threads. That’s how the BA has worked since inception, as near as I can tell. Do some characters start more powerful than others? Yes, they do. Generally, however, new people in the EH do not start with exceptionally powerful characters. Like you Stick, I noticed that you said that your character can do “almost anything with magic”. Back on those q-qs, that’s effectively the same as saying “anything with magic” and since it’s magic, it could really boil down to saying “my character can do anything”. I’m sure that the councilor who approved your character is kicking theirself for overlooking that trait right about now, but on the other hand, you did a pretty good job of playing down the paragraph it was in. That was unintentional, I am certain.

Concept, power level experience aside, let’s talk about the councilors, their job, the aim of the EH. The councilors here are volunteers who have to apply for the job. None of them get paid for it, but they did have to put in hundreds to thousands of hours of work and dedication to the EH before they could be selected for the position. When a councilor talks to you about something that’s a problem, it’s not personal and it’s not because they want to, but because it is the job they were hired for and do out of nothing but the goodness in their hearts and the love of a good, fun roleplay. Now, as far as I’ve understood it, the goal of the EH is twofold. The first is to provide writers with fun, freeform and mature writing environment where they can interact with others in long or short term roleplays without fear of being degraded or disrespected by other players. The second is to help writers of all ages and experiences to improve their writing and roleplaying skills through interaction with other players, and especially the councilors.

So, when a councilor approaches you about something, you man up to it and if it hurts your pride somehow, then you swallow your pride. You certainly don’t give the councilors here grief about something they’ve said to you, not only because they aren’t getting paid for this, but because they are only trying to help you. I have personally had councilors talk to me about my own roleplay, but because I knew they were only trying to help, I didn’t look at it from a point of view with my head stuck in some orifice and I fixed it. Turns out, it created a better experience for everyone involved.

And then there’s the actual roleplay itself. Not what your character is doing, but the writing of it. Often, a writer will have difficulties on trying to think of what to do next. So what do they do? They network with each other, they plan events out in advance, and they work together on the gist of what will happen in the next few posts. There is no reason you should feel shy about asking another player in a roleplay for help on what to do, or feel frustrated because you don’t know what to do by yourself. The world knows I don’t. Don’t hesitate to plan something ahead with someone, or ask for help. We are all here to enjoy this experience; only very few people would not be willing to work with you on something. Heck, that’s just another reason that the councilors even exist.

So, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I’d like to address you more personally, Stick Link. I am having fun with this roleplay, and I don’t want anything to ruin the continuation of this thread. That’s exactly the reason I’ve decided to post this information and to level with you. But for goodness’ sake, stop deleting everything because you’re upset. Please.)

(Athis arguing us just getting pointless. I edited something out of Kuldr's profile that was causing confusion. Can we please just move on?)

Uh...I'm ready to post when you guys are...

(OoC: Since Sticky's character has now been disapproved, we shall continue on as he works to get it approved again. Because he obviously did not understand a word Drammor or I have said to him. Here we go.)

Rontu pulled Khaz up, still gripping the stolen sword in his sweaty grip. Leonna was now unleashed upon all the drow surrounding them. She really was his star of the ambush. There’s nothing like heated light to blind and burn a drow. Khaz pulled two swords from his bag and kept them for himself. Not actually his katanas but they would do. He slung the bag straps over his head to rest on the slop of his neck, the pack against the opposing hip. His eyes were shut tightly, trying to keep from seeing all the bloodshed Ren was probably causing around them. Lucky Takai didn’t have to see. Khaz gave him partial control, but he wouldn’t be as fast or strong as Takai normally would have been. He could still smell the blood, forcing his stomach to clench uncomfortably on him again. He gulped the need to puke down and breathed through his mouth instead. That would probably slow him down a bit too.

“Khaz, where are our weapons?!” Rontu shouted to him through all the chaos and mayhem. He could barely hear him through the screams and shrieks of those that Leonna burned and Ren crushed.

“Uh—they’re—I know that Ren’s is up there! At the top of the crystal by the altar!”

Between Ren and Leonna, they were keeping the drow at bay from Rontu and Khaz. It was only a matter of time before projectiles would start coming in at them. Only a matter of time before they started to get smarter about attacking them. Rontu knew it was truly mad that he did this, but he had to.

Ren looked up when he heard Khaz shout about his sword. His blood-red eyes gazed upward through the shadows that lingered around the hot glow of Leonna’s flames to the altar at which a high priestess stood.

OoC: Sorry to clutter up the thread and all, but I have NEWS! I did a radical update on Leonna's proflie (no core abilities changed, just A LOT more detail), and I was hoping you guys could take a look and tell me what you think. (I don't even know if it needs to be approved) It took a lot more work than I thought it would...

Oh, and I'll wait for Drammy to post a BiC post before I do another one. Then I'll post posthaste.

As could be expected, the heretic drow did not hesitate. As soon as the shock and fire from the blast in the Lady of Malstra's chamber hit the crystal chamber, he shouted an order to one of his comrades. Alright, so the girl's name is Leonna, Omentus thought to himself. Drow milled around him, mobilizing to take down the intruders. A dark elf some twenty-six feet to his left began to cock and load a heavy crossbow. The bolt he used was taken from a rolled leather case. Poison...

The half-dragon tore off his bondage and began a rampage. Though scrawny for a half breed, the boy seemed strong enough. His hands could tear through the fey-like flesh of the drow, though Omentus couldn't really tell how much effort the specimen was exerting.

The woman called Leonna burst with bright orange light, spreading wings from her back. She also lit with white hot flame. Omentus blinked, turning his eyes white. There was magic there, but it was pure and unworked. The girl was not casting magic. Omentus blinked again, turning his eyes red. A shining red flame burned inside the girl, with tongues leaping outward as she threw a stream of dripping fire toward the onrushing drow. This talent is natural... intrinsic... inborn. She is not human, the apothecary thought feverishly. He had seen this like before. He thought back, forcing himself into furthest depths of the fog.

***

Omentus stood on a dark, tropical island. Caves and tunnels riddled the deep jungle here, and flutterbys of dark colors flitted through the air. It was not nighttime here, and yet the sky above was filled with stars and obscured the brightness from the light beyond. The seromancer knelt down to the ground and ran his fingers over the soil. The grass was smooth, soft and feathery, but the colors were strange -- azure, violet and deep ocean blue. It felt serene here, but there was also a sense of alien danger. Exactly what he'd expected to find on the island.

Omentus walked slowly, entering into the jungle. Yet more flutterbys populated the trees and flowers, and though they were beautiful, he did not dare to touch them. Many were black with blue bands, others pink with black bands. The trees overhead blocked out the remaining light from beyond the island. He blinked, turning his eyes black - no whites, no irises, just black. Color disappeared to him, but he could otherwise see as if he stood in a brightly lit room. Quietly, he walked through the jungle. Curious, he overturned a broad leaf or peeked inside a stone crevice here or there, finding colorful trinkets or pure, shining waters. He did not partake of the trinkets, nor did he drink of the water. Instead, he approached the island's center. Its heart.

He walked for nearly half an hour, finding the serenity of the island somehow unnerving. There were no obvious threats to avoid, but he knew there would be threats here. He had to stay vigilant, or they would catch him. At last, he saw a clearing. Above it, the night sky sparkled with beautiful stars, the tiny wings of each one flapping slowly. There was a presence here, it thrummed in the ground.

At first, Omentus knelt, and then he nearly laid on the ground. He set his ear against the earth, and felt a joy in the rhythm he heard. Deep within the island's mantle, a great heart was pumping. Thump... thump thump... thump. It was a slow rhythm, with almost a quarter minute between beats. Relieved to have made it this far, he looked up past the island's sky.

The infinite, black and silvery expanse of the astral plane shone beautifully - perfectly - as it always did. Far away, pools of light and color swirled endlessly, leading to not other worlds, but worlds. The astral plane was a between place, one which existed in a place which was everywhere, but not truly connected anywhere. Overhead, a creature streaked by, moved by the power of its spirit and mind. In most of the plane, there was no gravity, neither objective nor subjective, just like time did not flow here either. To move, one willed themselves in a direction by wishing to move. Contrary to the sound of it, it was not completely easy to do. Newcomers to the plane found it disorienting and frustrating.

Omentus, however, was not just on the astral plane. He was on one of its rare islands; an island which in the reaches of the astral could be called remote, and it was likely that there was no one that would disagree. These islands were indeed rare, and did simply not exist where traffic was heavier.

The creature, far above him, shone like a sort of star in the plane. Light and fire leapt from its body, from its glowing orange wings as it darted by.

***

The wave of heat from the woman's flame struck him in the face. So strange was the experience that it jolted him straight out of the fog. He was lucid again, though not fully there yet. He looked over at the drow to his left. He was pointing the crossbow down into the pit of the chamber, and carefully adjusting his aim. Omentus followed the line of the bolt... it was pointed at the traveler girl. Rapid biogenesis of astral matter... spontaneous invocation of flame... he mused, starting to slip back into the haze again. If he fires that bolt... his musings stopped. That sole thought was all it took, and he was with the conscious again. No, he was livid.

His legs moved him faster than he willed them to, and he was still being ignored. When the blade over Omentus' right hand punctured the drow's brain, his poor victim had no idea what had struck him. Ignore Me was probably gone now; killing a drow in such a way was an obvious thing to do. He was certain that at least three people would have noticed a marksman drow with a heavy crossbow being killed so brutally, but it didn't matter. He didn't intend on standing still for this anyway.

A dark elf, some fifteen feet away, turned to look at him. He began to mouth a word, probably something like "How?" but the necromancer didn't have time for the elf's shock. He moved past him, the single blade of his nekode aimed for his throat. He was not slow on the uptake. The drow raised his arm to block, taking the edge of Omen's weapon there. Valiau punctured his body from the other side, only a single milliliter of drug was administered, but the shot went straight to the elf's kidney. The pain of the shot - the instantly dying, necrotizing organ - was overwhelming. He went down slowly, kneeling to his right. His attention waned just a moment too long; the nekode slammed into the front of his head, through, and cutting a deep wedge through his right parietal region, all the way down. Cerebrospinal fluid sloshed onto the floor as Omentus stalked forward.

A second drow raised a spiked mace, and swung it down toward Omen's left shoulder. In a flash, he raised Valiau to block. There was a flash of sparks from the syringe's guard, but it held. He twisted the syringe counterclockwise, as if parrying, to slide the drow's weapon arm out of the way. The nekode followed in the wake of the flourish, cutting through the soldier's chain mail and piercing his diaphragm and trachea. Blood gushed from the wound as he moved on down the walkway, wasting no time. The half-dragon could wait, the girl was far more interesting... more useful.

This was bad. This was very bad. My chest was already heaving, my hands shaking. Such rays took so much concentration and power to use, and my energy was waning fast. It was apparent that I would not be able to continue like this...not while hundreds of drow teemed around every shadowy corner of the room. We were hopelessly outnumbered, entirely outpowered...it would only be a matter of time before sheer exhaustion overtook us all.

So why had Rontu chosen this? Why had he drawn the attention of every single dark creature in this room to us? Out of all of us, he was the most logical, the one least inclined towards emotion...so what was he hoping to accomplish? Death?

The forces of darkness were overwhelming. There was no place I could look where there was not an enemy, nor was there any source of energy I could use. It was hopeless, completely and utterly hopeless...

But Khaz, Rontu, Ren...I promised I would not let them die, not in this awful dark hole...

What could I do? Already, the drow were recovering from my attack, coming towards me with their swords at the ready. They moved cautiously this time, spreading themselves out to minimize the effect of my fire should I hit them. It was time to change things up a bit.

Just a few yards away, I could see the body of one of the gaurds that Ren had crushed. The dead creature still held its weapon, a long black pike. I ran over to it as quickly as I could, tearing the weapon from the corpse. It was definately much heavier than I was used to, being made out of blackened iron, and its length was uncomfortably long. The weapon was not balanced either, its twisted pike end significantly heavier than the butt of it. Still, if this was all I had to work with, it would have to do.

The drow seemed heartened when I ran to pick up the pike, their smiles mocking. Combat was something they had mastered, and a weak woman would not appear to be much of a threat. But I still had one more advantage. I allowed my flame to seep into my hand again, a bright orange flame leaping from it. Before charging into the attackers, I threw my flame at them, distracting the warriors before I even came upon them.

Then it was metallic bliss. My pike whizzed into the drow as I struck them with the heavy metal, severely bruising any flesh that came in contact with it. When a gaurd raised his sword to block a blow, I spun around him, stabbing the unfortunate drow in the back with the sharp end of the pike.

I continued to pepper my enemies with fire, striking them with the pike at every opportunity. It was an effective way to fight, but I knew there was no hope even in this. For every drow I killed, another sprung up in its place, and the sharp edges of their swords were everywhere. It was only a matter of time before one of them found an opportunity to run me through, and it came.

As I spun to strike another drow, a slash cut through my open side. Before I even had time to react, I was knocked to the ground, the pike flying out of my grasp. I moved to get back up, but a foot came crashing down onto my ribs. I gasped as the air rushed out of me, my ribs painfully cracking under the pressure.

"Fool." A tall drow stood over me, his red eyes gleaming ferociously down at me. The gleaming metal of his sword was at my throat, but the drow seemed to hesitate before striking me. He smiled cruelly down at me, enjoying my fear and pain as he slowly crushed my lungs.

So this is how I am going to die...

OoC: In case this is confusing, Leonna was weilding the pike like she would a quarterstaff.

Omentus sheathed away Valiau, making greater haste to the woman's side. He was still far from her, though, and without the benefit of an Ignore Me spell to keep the dark elves off him, it would be an agonizing span of time before he arrived at her aid. A drow came up on him with a longsword, thrusting for his heart. Omentus did not move from the strike, instead choosing to let it slide between his left arm and his chest. He grabbed the blade near its guard, and took advantage of the drow's surprise. His nekode blade punctured the drow's chest, first, then its throat and neck.

The girl was doing well, however. By now, she'd managed to pick up a weapon. A spear or polearm of some kind; Omentus could not entirely tell from so far away. She wielded it deftly, striking a drow here and there between bursts of orange fire.

Two drow closed on Omentus, their movements synchronized with one another. It was strange to see such teamwork among the drow, but the necromancer supposed it must have been necessary for their survival. One had a rapier, the other had an thin axe of sorts. The axe-wielding elf closed first, swinging the weapon overhandedly. It was an easy block. Omentus raised his right hand and locked his nekode with it, forcing the drow into an awkward stance. The second drow struck at him from where the first's body obscured his view. The tip of the rapier pierced deep into his living armor, and continued through into his gut, before withdrawing as suddenly as is struck him. The seromancer fought the urge to vomit, and wasted no further time. Completing the motion, he threw the first drow, bodily, off the stone walk. The rapier-wielding drow was already lunging again. This time, he aimed for Omen's head; Omentus ducked to the side, but the blade cut his cheek deeply. The wound burned, hissing like drops of water on a hot grill.

In a flash, Omentus grabbed the rapier's blade with his left hand, and pulled himself forward, an action the drow fought, unsure of where this maneuver was going. The blade's tip thrust through Omen's chest, impaling him completely, at the same time as his nekode did the same for the drow's lung and a part of its heart. The nekode was the far shorter of the weapons, however, allowing the apothecary to withdraw it slam his fist against the back of the drow's head. The was a jerking motion, and the drow suddenly fell from consciousness. Omentus stumbled back, pulling the rapier out of his body. He cast it onto the ground, and knelt down beside the unconscious drow. He set a hand against his victim's shoulder, and then intoned the wound transfer spell. His wounds did not close... they moved, sliding along his body and across his arm, until they ultimately came to rest on the drow, in the same places the dark elf's rapier had harmed him. He moved everything there, and suddenly felt refreshed. The very quiet sounds of elven footsteps alerted him to another enemy.

Omen's eyes shot up, followed by the rest of him in a lunge. A spear came across his shoulder, skittering on the chitinous plates of his armor. His nekode blade slammed through the man's head, and with a ripping motion, he tossed this one from the walkway as well.

Chancing it now, Omentus glanced over toward the fiery girl. A warrior was poised beside her, his sword sliding through her soft mortal skin. That was all Omentus needed to see. There was no way he'd lose this specimen. He looked at the dozen drow on his left, climbing the walkway, on their way to kill him. Too many. Too far.

Omentus dove into a forward sprint as he reached into his many-pocketed cloak. He reached the edge of the walkway and began to go over, but leapt with every ounce of strength he could muster, bounding out into the air of the chamber. His right hand swung toward his left arm, twisting a strip of leaves around the arm. His left hand palmed the leaves and they took hold against his skin. Thousands, or tens of thousands, of autumn leaves appeared from the air around him, each clinging to him sequentially as they formed an enormous pair of wings. His left arm was covered in them, unable to move except to direct the leafy wings. Air caught beneath him, bringing his plunge into a sweeping dive. The drow was standing over Leonna now, crushing the life from her lungs. He flexed the autumn wings, speeding toward the duo. As he neared them, a crossbow bolt bit into Omen's leg, but the pain would be as nothing if he could save the girl.

Turning the attitude of each wing, he flipped himself about in the air, impaling the ring wing of leaves on the drow's sword. That wing buffeted the girl assailant heavily, knocking him aside as if he'd been tackled from the side. Omentus released his grip on the chain of autumn leaves. Fiery-colored leaved burst everywhere around them as the wings discorporated and Omentus thrust his left hand inside his cloak. His nekode blade raked across the leaf-blinded drow's neck and face, bidding a rush of blood from the wound. Another drow began to close on Omen's left while the first stood in shock of the pain. Omen's hand darted out from under the cloak, tightly clutching two wells of blood in it. "Incotio sang," he incanted.

A roaring stream of sparkling golden fire jetted from his outstretched fist. Its light blinded the drow around them in a flash, then struck its target. The drow screamed as his hair and flesh melted. The stream of fire swam around the drow, searing him on all sides before moving on to the next drow that had closed on Leonna. "Incotio sang," Omentus spoke again. A second streamer of glittering golden flame leapt from his fist, this one headed on to a third dark elf. Omen's eyes glimmered brightly in their light, making them seem to blossom with green-gold flame. "Incotio sang," he said a third time. From the air before him, and shrieking dart formed from the void, and bolted into a fourth drow's chest, ripping it open with a spray of blood. A fifth assailant came from behind Omentus; the necromancer's ear twitched. The nape of his neck opened, revealing an eye of bright lime green color with a white pupil. The gold in it shone more brightly than his other two. The seromancer shifted his feet, and struck the drow in the throat as the demonic apothecary reached back with his nekode.

Streams of roaring golden fire and a streak of howling void raged around the girl and Omentus, keeping the rest of the drow at bay. He looked down at her; at the blood pouring from her side, and dropped, parting his legs so that he knelt over her body. He spoke to her, his voice deep and smooth, "You shall not be harmed." He set his right hand against her body, at the bottom of her chest. "Tinsu mael fara," he spoke. His voice was different, it rang against the ears like a faraway echo lost in memory. The girl's wounds moved, sliding along the necromancer's arm. They broke apart, and spread across Omen's body, reducing their gravity into more than two dozen deep scratches across his skin.

The drow’s red eyes turned from me suddenly, his focus going to something above him. Obviously, that action came too late, as he was suddenly knocked down by a flurry of leaves. I watched as a red cloaked figure landed from out of nowhere, the autumn leaves entwined onto his arm dissapearing in a huge flash of flame. The red cloaked creature immediately struck out upon landing, slicing one drow in the face and neck. With a mix of horror and relief, I watched as the figure set flame to the surrounding drow, their screams filling the vast cavern. I could have sworn I heard him mutter some sort of spell, but the chaos of everything going on drowned his voice out.

Before I knew it, the red cloaked figure was kneeling directly over me. In the bright orange glow of its fire, I could see that my rescuer was a man…mostly. The creature had the strangest eyes I had ever seen, not only having an unaturally dark blue-green color, but also vertically slitted pupils like that of a cat’s. On his chest was the ugliest fabric I had ever set my eyes upon; grayish green with tiny bony spikes sticking out of it like a spiny reptile’s skin. His coal black hair had been tied in multiple strands around his head, and his arms appeared to be quite muscular, but all these details became irrelavant when I saw what was gleaming on the leather harness on his thigh.

Syringes! Oh Goddesses, have mercy! I had seen metallic instruments like these before, back when I had lived with Hemanais. He had said they were used for medicinal purposes, to inject medicine directly into the body. It was impossible to forget how I had shuddered when he showed me one, pointing out its long, sharp needle that was supposed to sink into one’s flesh. It made me sick just thinking about how that nasty thing could poke around my innards.

And here this strange man was kneeling over me with a whole set of the awful things just within his reach. He had a dark aura stronger than any I had ever felt before, as if darkness flowed from his very skin. I wanted to scream, to get out from under him, but my ribs hurt terribly just trying to breathe.

"You shall not be harmed." The man’s voice was strangely smooth, utterly calm despite the fact that we were surrounded by drow. I stared back at him with confused terror, not understanding his words. He was trying to help me?

I flinched as the man touched me, a cold shock shooting into my chest. He spoke something in a strange language, his voice somehow completely different. For some odd reason, his words sounded almost famliar, his new voice tickling the recesses of my memory. To my horror, I felt the burning pain in my chest and side shift around, moving towards the dark man’s hand at the bottom end of my chest. Then, in a moment, the pain suddenly dissapeared, as if I had never been hurt.

What manner of dark magic is this? Why did he help me? Could it be that this is the intruder the drow spoke of? But they said he was dead…

With the pain gone, I could actually breathe, though I still could not move. I was at a loss at whether or not I should attack the dark creature, or thank him for his help. At any rate, I was not going to remain lying here while he had those awful needles. I slid out from under him, taking my eyes off of him to look for my pike. It had rolled a few feet away, right in the middle of the enormous flames the stranger had created…

OoC: Syringes? Oh no! He must be a DENTIST! Run for your LIVES!

Ren’s eyes found the female drow on top of the altar, crying orders; the katana in her hand was unsheathed pointing and directing with it. Only it wasn’t hers. It was Ren’s katana. Akane Ryuu Masaru, the Nevisu clan’s sword. The sword his grandfather had entrusted to him the very last day he ever saw him.

In the hands of that spider’s whore.

His eyes narrowed, lips pulling back against his teeth into an animalistic snarl. He didn’t even need to think about it. The hot burning energy inside him leapt up and spread through his entire being like wild fire. White energy burst out of his back, tearing holes through his shirt and coat. The two streams of white burning light extended out like new limbs. They took the form of a pair of dragon wings. When the light faded, two pearly white and hard scaled dragon wings flexed. His skin flushed back into that milk white of before. The canines of his exposed teeth grew and sharpened. His nails grew several centimeters longer and curved slightly into pointed claws. The black pupils of his crimson glare escaped the confines of their circular shape and became distorted blots of ink.

The flash of his wings sprouting had blinded several drow around him for a moment. Even after, some hesitated for at least a few seconds before closing in on the half-dragon. But Ren paid them no mind. He was already focused on one thing. He crouched low, bending his knees; his head still tilted upward, eyes still locked on his target far up above.

The flash of Ren’s transformation caught Rontu’s eye and he turned to see him preparing to launch.

“Ren—no! WAIT!” he yelled, but it was too late.

The dragon spawn bolted straight up into the air, leaving his attackers and friends behind on the ground below him. Now that Ren had escaped their range, the other dark elves came swarming in at them. Rontu and Khaz spun around, back to back, pacing in a circular motion. All the light they had now was the still burning flames on the bodies that Leonna had torched and the bursts of fire she was exerting at random. Rontu dearly wanted Verta Sael back. He fought best with his long katana. It gave him a lot more range than his current broad sword. The short swords Khaz gripped were heavier than what he was used to. The Hylian panted out his mouth, not daring to breath in the smell of blood through his nose. His eyes were still tightly shut.

“Khaz, we need Takai and we need him now!” called Rontu.

A drow lunged in at him with a rapier. A second followed closely behind him and the third rushing in on him to his left. Rontu side-stepped the thrust, then rushed forward, grabbing the hand that gripped the blade, and slid his sword through the gap between his arm and side into the torso of the dark elf coming behind him. The one coming in on the side with a spiked mace slammed it downward at him. Rontu released his weapon, still stuck in the other drow, to grab the rapier drow’s clothing. His right leg hooked around the elf’s leg and loosened his foot so that he could twist him around. The mace smashed down on the back of the drow’s head and neck. Blood splattered out, raining on Rontu. Blood trickled all down the dead man’s hanging face.

He then twisted the rapier from his now limp grip and let him drop. The other drow ripped his mace from the other’s head, flinging more red drops into the air. The mace was much heavier than the rapier, so Rontu was much faster. The drow swung his mace horizontally, forcing Rontu to jump back from it as he tossed the rapier from his left hand into his right. He then rushed back in, leaping over the dead body and taking advantage of the sluggish movement. When drow tried to meet him with another horizontal swing back, Rontu spun, grabbing the handle with his left hand and turning in to the right to slash horizontally with the rapier, cutting open his neck. They continued to spin for a moment with the momentum of the swing. The drow’s hand slipped from the mace handle and toppled to the ground, bleeding out.

Khaz saw nothing but the blackness of his eyelids, but Takai moved his body around for him. The short sword he held in his left pointed back and the one in his right was held forward. He heard the clangs of metal as he blocked and then the feeling of his blades cutting through flesh and bodies as he parried. He found his left hand stabbing backward into a body that approached from behind, and then spun around, whipping the other blade horizontally to take off a head. Takai used his body hard and fast and Khaz wasn’t allowed to breathe right, attempting to keep smells from his nose. He was losing steam and losing it fast.

How long could they last like this anyway? There were hundreds of drow pouring in at them, trapped in this swarm. He had heard Rontu’s cry for Takai to come to their aid. Even with him, how long could he keep them all at bay? They would last a lot longer for sure, and Takai was in his element. Darkness was everywhere. He could practically swallow the drow with his shadows. But …

Leonna.

She was in here. There wasn’t anyway she wouldn’t notice.

(OoC: Sorry if my fight scenes blow. I'm really not good at them.)

Qilintha Do'rret had always been her Goddess' favored. Born of a noble house and blessed with especially good looks, she was selected for advance training into the clergy months before the other girls. In Lloth's own way, she had looked down on her and selected Qilintha to be her chosen since before even her birth. She was unusually determined, curious and reserved even at a very young age; she learned Lloth's way quickly, by paying attention not only to the presbyters and wizards in her classes, but to her classmates. The sluggish and the inattentive ones were punished the most, and the girls were subtly rewarded when they took advantage of or played tricks on others.

By the end of Qilintha's first semester in school, three of the other girls were already dead, and she'd only been caught with being involved with one of the murders. Her mother, the fifth woman in line for the position of matron mother of the house, walked in on her while she was dumping the body in the otyugh's hole, when there was no one else around. It didn't take long for her mother to figure out what had happened, and chastise Qilintha for not being more discreet with her business. She told the young girl that she deserved to be beaten for that, and directed her to turn around. A harsh spanking would follow. Her mother looked through the silken bag on her belt, and when she located the flat lash for her daughter's beating, the girl's palmed dagger punctured her skull.

Not only was she the next corpse down the otyugh hole, but Qilintha suddenly found herself in the possession of many pieces of fine jewelry. Her favorite among them was a fancy hairpin with four gold and black feathers and tiny, faceted sunstone gems. Of course, it wasn't the color that made it her favorite, but the fact that on its first feather and two gemstones was the small handle to its hidden needle dagger. The hairpin would look stunning on her, and she would wear it every day.

As the drow girl of only eight years turned around to leave, however, she found herself standing before an impossibly tall drow woman with strong features and a beautiful rod of gleaming black jewels, white bone and whiter spidersilk in her right hand. All the hairs on the back of Qilintha's neck stood up, and she dropped down on both knees and began to lower her head, almost as if it were the only natural reaction. When her eyes met with the floor, however, a warm hand touched her cheek, and pulled her gaze higher, until she looked on the face of the goddess herself. "Beautiful Qilintha, favored among my children," the deity began, "you are so young, and yet already doing my work. You deserve this." Lloth bent down, and then kissed her on the forehead. From that spot, the red-tinted shadow of a widow spider blossomed, marking her forever as a Lloth-touched drow. The goddess vanished as quickly as she'd come, leaving the girl with gifts to remember her by. The subtle mark on her brow, and a beautiful ebonsilk piwafwi. She became swiftly stronger then, an advantage she would use over the next seven years until she would be accepted into the clergy. By then, she was the fourth in line for matron mother.

Now quite accomplished, the four hundred fifty-seven year old Qilintha looked on as chaos erupted into the chamber around her. She held the scabbard of a fine katana in her right hand like her rod of ruler's right while she shouted and signed commands to the myriad drow filling the chamber. So far, all of the intruders were on the other side of the unseen wall, so she had nothing to fear but the other drow from behind her. One of the prisoners, the dragonchild, was fast approaching her. Qilintha couldn't help but grin maliciously when she looked him in the eye. "Canduth, Auauthia, Vamet," she hissed. She hadn't spoken the names loudly, but she knew her addressees could hear her plainly. "Get to work. Auauthia, Vamet; begin sealing the chamber. Canduth, swat this fly for me," the priestess commanded, indicating the first two toward the passages leading out of the crystal chamber, and the third one toward Ren. Thirty, perhaps thirty-five feet above her, the spider-like demons leapt from the undersides of the spidersilk walkways.

The largest of spider-like demons, a creature the size of a draft horse with deep purple, chitinous plates thicker and stronger than steel platemail barding covering its body, eight burning red eyes and forelimbs ending with spear-like spikes launched itself toward Ren. Canduth handled the leap expertly, though it should have been a very difficult lunge for any mortal creature. He moved like a tiger pouncing at an oncoming impala, with his abdomen thrust forward enough to point at the half-dragon when he shot a thick stream of sticky webbing at his quarry.

Qilintha wasted no time with her next move. She set her hands on either side of the crystal altar, and brought forth the sleeping vim from deep inside the dark crystal. Before Canduth could get that far, a flash of dull green light erupted from around the unseen wall and rushed across the chamber in all directions. In its wake, thin clouds formed and sprayed down their short-lived storm - a dozen thin bolts of black lightning and a sheet of frigidly cold, acidic green gel.

The spell was mostly simple in nature, but effective. The lightning was dark, and therefore would not harm drow eyes. The bolts were weak but should manage to moderately injure any normal person. The jelly, on the other hand, was supernaturally cold and strongly acidic. The acid would hiss and burn, and perhaps even cause bleeding with a few seconds of exposure, and its cold meant that it would nearly freeze itself to skin, making it hard to wash off or wipe away.

***

Omentus was drained. Of all his personal store of mana, he didn't even have enough left to cast a bloodstar, and he still had things he needed from this group of escapees. He desperately needed his mana back, but the only way he knew to acquire it would be to touch the crystal again. Even if he could manage, he would still need to get away with Leonna and find a way to touch the drow heretic before the pandemonium in the crystal chamber became too much for him to handle. He would need to do this in steps, he decided. If it got too bad in here, he'd just have run for it with the fae specimen, and find another way to scout on the half-dragon.

The apothecary counted quickly the drow that were closing on he and Leonna as he put away his wells of blood. Four from behind him, and one in front of him, but a little to the left. Far out in front of him, but also a bit on his right, there were two drow, apparently in the process of waiting for order or deciding which group to attack. Omentus traced a sparse dotted line of drow between he and the crystal in this way, then glanced up. Drow were beginning to line the walkways, armed with bows and crossbows. Moving fast might be the only way to stay alive, now. Leonna was distracted, looking for the pike she'd used to fend off the drow before. Omentus grabbed Beli from its holster and reached forward in a flash, to give the girl a shot of its powerful sedative drug. The apothecary administered an 8 milliliter dose just to be certain she'd go out; enough to keep a normal human down for almost twelve hours. He dove forward suddenly, just after he'd pulled the needle from her skin, and scooped the girl up with his other arm.

Under his mental direction, the shining fires and the screaming dart of black void flew about him to suppress the drow, one or two connecting just a bit every second and a half or so. He holstered Beli again, and switched his hold on the already sleepy Leonna, cradling her instead in his left arm. Her wings made it difficult to handle her properly, but the seromancer managed. From within the cloak, he withdrew the chain of autumn leaves and the snarecaster. The former he strapped to his left arm, securing the girl in firmer place as the tens of thousands of leaves appeared from out of nowhere and formed the foliage wings. The latter he held almost awkwardly, with its casting end pointing out on the pinky side of his right hand. He fired two shots almost simultaneously. The tethers anchored themselves onto the two drow who were still waiting for their orders, and he pulled viciously on the line. His wings flexed and he managed a long leap under the combined power of the autumn wings and his pull on the snarecaster's line, pulling the pair of drow onto the ground at the same time.

Just as he landed at the far side of that leap, green light flashed overhead, a thin arc of lightning struck nearby, and he heard the sound of rain pattering from in front of him. The charge of the lightning disoriented the seromancer, but he managed to throw up his hood and turn around, hiding both he and Leonna under his cloak's folds as the sheet of dangerous rain washed over both of them. His darts went out in sequence - first the two golden flames, and then the black void dart vanished.

I reached for my pike, knowing the heat of the flame would do nothing to harm me. To my surprise, the stranger that had saved me suddenly attacked as my arm was outstreched, a long and colorful syringe in his hand. I did not even have time to flinch before the needle punctured the skin of my arm, biting into me with a sharp pinch. That pain, however, died almost instantly as a warm sensation overtook it, spreading throughout my body as fluidly as water.

As the red cloaked man pulled me to him, I tried to fight back, but my limbs had turned to lead as the strange warmth spread into them. My strength had been so reduced that I could have been pushing against a mountain for all the good it did. My sight became fuzzy even as the dark haired man took me in his arm, the din of cave around us turning to a soft murmur. All I could see was the dark forms of the drow, looking like dancing shadows in the glimmer of the stranger's fire.

I should have been panicing, but for one reason or another, my mind had become too lazy to care. The world around me was fading; this chaotic, horrible place and all that was in it was slowly slipping away, turning into an endlessly warm, black abyss. Faintly, I could feel that the person holding me was moving, but my mind was far too gone to even start to think about where he was going or how. My head finally fell against his shoulder, the last of my strength sapped by the nearness of unconsiousness.

The only thing that kept me in the cave now was a tiny string of thought, a pang of guilt for leaving everything behind. There was someone who needed me, but I could not quite recall who that was, or why. Danger...yes, there was danger, but it was all slipping away...

And then the string snapped, and I sank into the pleasant darkness without another thought.

OoC: Leonna is officially out of the ballpark! Now I just have to decide what kind of pleasant, lucid dream she's gonna have. And Shrub, your combat scene was cool to read ^^ I didn't know Khaz could fight with his eyes closed...