"Battle at Blue Mountain" (I) Log Date: 10/10/04 Log Cast: Savah, Winnowill, Eveshka, Ktai, Ryriel, Imriel, Moonshade, Savith, Yeyeen, Viresse, Ryriel, Joth, Flashfire, Strongbow, Tsoran, Kintae, Kahvi, Kureel & Suntop Log Intro: The twins Imriel and Ryriel converge on Blue Mountain for a final battle--with a gathering of elves of many tribes who have cast aside their own differences to unite against this common enemy. Winnowill, Lord of Blue Mountain, joins forces with Savah and Suntop to confront Imriel in the astral plane while her Chosen and other elves fight with the attackers outside the Mountain. When Imriel and Ryriel are defeated at last and slain, Suntop intercepts the souls of both twins--but while he allows the childish soul of Ryriel to be reunited with the soul of the twins' mother, the mystic forces the soul of Imriel into himself rather than risk turning him loose within the Palace's walls. [NOTE: This is a companion log to "Battle on the Astral Plane" and "Battle at Blue Mountain II", from Winnowill's and Ma'at's points of view, respectively.] ---------- Side Hall - Palace The appearance of this chamber is much different than the rest of the Palace. The walls are made of the same pale purplish-pink stone. Like the rest of the Palace, the ceiling is high and arched, and the walls are covered in beautiful filigree. The thing that seperates this from the rest of the Palace is that there are piles of pelts layed upon the floor. It has a much more earthy feel about it and smells the wolves that have stayed here in the past. In a locksend to Savah, Winnowills mind is urgent, intense and yet oddly calming now that it has begun, **Sister, it is time. To the Aerie.** In a locksend to Winnowill, Savah is not panicked, but she is worried, ** I am in the Palace, I can not get to the Aerie. ** Winnowill locksends, to Eveshka, Savah: ** Eveshka, the time has come to make yourself truly useful, get Savah here.. now. ** Savah has moved outside the Palace, her eyes flickering with worry which is ripe through her whole being. She actually paces back and forth, hands wriniging. She had hoped for more time, more of a chance, but it will not be. With a burst of speed, the doors to the Palace go flying open, and the fragile glideress who has been in charge of Suntop's rest comes flying quite literally out. ** Savah, Savah, they're here! The Twins. ** She alights not too far from the revered Mother of Memory, and were times different, she might have recalled some semblance of manners. But now is not the time to stand remotely close to ceremony. ** We must go. ** Sensed in a locksend to Winnowill, Savah: Eveshka spares a moment before replying, but her send flashes back with accuracy and crystalline clarity: ** At once, my Lord. ** Savah nods to the waif of a glider, her brows furrowing with worry. Then, her minds open slightly, her own inner strength offered to the younger elfess, so that she may fly the pair, swift and sure, where they need to be. Those violet eyes widen for a moment, and then turn sharply crystalline themselves, a glitter of the palest lavender scintillating about her as she gathers her thoughts and begins the mental descent to pull her magic from slumber and spin it like a glittering cocoon about both to carry them towards Blue Mountain... towards the Twins. Ktai locksends, to Winnowill, Savah: ** They've just burned Tsoran. Set fire to him just like that... ** Sensed in a locksend to Ktai, Savah: Winnowill is busy, Her mind bent on the twins from a distance, but sends an acknowledgement regardless **I know, I felt it. Put it from your mind or others will be hurt, Tsoran will be tended to, once these Twins are.** (and of Eveshka and Savah go, continued in Winnowill’s log. Time fast forwards at the Palace for the astral battle.) In a locksend, to Winnowill, Ryriel, Savah: Imriel reaches blindly through the pain, escape. How do you escape pain, you leave your body of course! Astral he goes, he needs escape, yet the pain follows him. He can feel that soul searing locksend of blackened anger and agony. Its then, he sees those that work to thwart him, and not for the one he came for, does he dart - but the other, The one, blazing like the daystar, adding power to the moth like one. Moonshade scans the field for elves needing assistance, aside from the obvious two she will never help. No. This is not happening. The living elf that she sees first is Kureel. A very brief battle of hatred versus need to preserve elf lives ensues. In the end, she decides to help her mate's arch-enemy. Oh, that hurts in a way that wounds do not. She maneuvers carefully around the sharp, stone death spikes to Kureel. Ack! He's on fire! She uses her body to put out the majority of the flames. She screams in pain as she does so. This hurts physically now as well as emotionally. Once he is fully extinguished, she reaches underneath his shoulder and grabs the portion of the arrow that is sticking through. "Don't move!" she screams at him. She pulls with all of her strength and the arrow slides all the way through. Ouch. Finally free of enough of the wrapstuff to move, Savith gets to his feet just in time to see Kureel drop. Puckernuts! Reaching out with as much of his gifts as he can muster, one Chosen rescues the other. Hey look! It's a game of tug of war, and Kureel's the thing being tugged on. With his eyes closed, Savith can't tell what's got him, only that something does. Not good! Sensed in a locksend to Imriel, Savah: Winnowill meets your mind in that space between worlds, where the surroundings are as black as her own soul. This, is Her domain, a place where no, one, can best Her. And you are now simply just One. She floats her spirit between yours and Savah, Arms outstretched, a final warning. Behind her trailing tendrils of inky dark hair swirl, threads tracing off, black eldritch energy forming into a criss-crossed pattern. This pattern is reinforced, layered over again and again, then trust around Her astral form, a growing shield.. and net. The elfess's charge stops as the preserver moves to interfear. A quick though of pulling Kureel's trick of holding it still with magic and taking a swing crosses Yeyeen's mind before her Lords orders come echoing through her memories. A deft change of tatics, and a mentel hold on the little bug as Yeyeen lands in front of Imerial, shielding him with her body from the others. **BACK OFF** she mentally screams at the encroaching elves before glancing at the preserver in her grasp and pointing at the elf under her feet. "Preserver....do." she commands, releasing the butterfly bug to work. Unaware of the battle raging before the slopes of Blue Mountain, a tall willowy figure appears from the south, carrying a brace of ravvits. Viresse drops her catch, her colourless eyes widening in dismay and shock at the grim, bitter conflict. To one side, Moonshade is busily extinguishing Kureel. She espies Ktai lifting a body... it looks like Tsoran... and glides quickly to her side, avoiding the fight as much as possible. A quick send to the other glider as she holds out her hands, offering to take him, ** Ktai... give him to me. I will take him into the Mountain. ** One from the left, a troll of an elf. One from the right, a wolf of an elf. And in the middle: Ryriel. The two get to Ryriel before the mass of gobacks could, and the frail elf staggers under the weight of it and stumbles down to the ground and onto those nasty spikes he had shaped but mere moments ago. There's a flare of magic, which can be felt by all that have even the tiniest touch of Magic Feeling. Fire. Fire mingles with stone which mingles with fleah shaping which mingles with a sending the likes of which only Strongbow is known for. **NO! Not like this! Not like this! BROTHER,** does Ryriel cry out as he feels the claws and fangs of the Black Snake, sharpened by the heat of the Daystar itself, tear and pierce his very soul. With the cry, the last of his magic escapes him in a firey explosion, sending tiny shards of splittered rock, shattering from their bases by the force of his magic, flying in all directions. These bits of shrapnel are heated to smoldering. And those nearest to him? Those actually touching his flesh? Well, healing gone twisted, and fleshshaping being flailed about in a vain attempt to lend a hand (pun intended), the feeling of which rips and cracks across their flesh. But the real target? Well, is that very same elf that causes it, for part of his magic works to try to sustain the flesh. It makes his skin, his sinew, his muscle, and his bone into the consistancy of a nice thick tapioca pudding, thus allowing the weight of anything pressing down upon him to... um.. well... sink in, as it were. Flashfire oofs at first, when Ryriel doesn't go down quite as expected thanks to Jorm's own charge. It at least gives them all a moment of..closeness, and with a snarl Flashfire slashes at Ryriel's midsection with a hand as they tumble. ** Stop..this..NOW! ** he sends with as much force as he can muster, but he's far from the strongest sender in the entire group. That's the least of his worries, though. As the three tumble he gets a spike in his left shoulder, enough to draw a yelp of pain. That's only the start of it. As he claws at Ryriel again, the explosion of magic erupts and he howls out in pain when the molten rock rips through him, close enough without warning that there's nothing he can do to avoid it, dozens of wounds beginning to ooze blood that stains his already reddish fur. He does what he can to roll away and separate himself from the elf, but worse things follow when the painful fleshshaping and twisted healing take effect. Still leaning partially on Ryriel, the best he can do with all the other hurts already sapping his strength is whimper when he feels a hand and arm trying to meld together with Ryriel's flesh, sending further, stronger pain all the way to his head. Finally, he scrabbles off of him in a last-ditch attempt to get away, but with all the blood lose from the heated shrapnel his body goes into arrest. He pants openly, eyes glazing over as his breathing begins to slow. He's losing the fight to live, body failing him. With his arrows going wide, as he was expecting, and now having far too many in close quarters with the twins, Strongbow lowers his bow and stops loosing arrows into the fray. As Ryriel's magic shatters the the rock, Strongbow recoils, bringing an arm up to protect his face even as Kindle whines, turning to one side. Tiny bits of hot rock sink into both elf and wolf, dotting Strongbow with the stinging stones. Fortunately, the archer was just far enough away to not get hit with a lethal amount of it. But how about those at ground zero? Pain, pain, pain! Joth's world erupts into a fiery red as the elf beneath him erupts into a fountain of magical energies. His own flesh and sinew betray him as the wild shaping magic takes form beneath him. Fire, pain, rip, tear, exploding stones, red hot shrapnel, peircing, hurting, oh high ones make it stop!.........'Kahvi....failed....I wasn't strong..enough....Forgive....Palace calling...' blacknes. Blessed darkness and release as Joth flees from the conscious world. Ktai gratefully offers up the limp form of the unconscious glider to Viresse, for she has no desire to truly assist Tsoran, but she'd do what she had to do. Even if that means helping those that she does not care for. The magic expenditure catches her attention, and for a moment, Tsoran's figure falters in the air, but she catches him and sends him up towards Viresse, considering her options. Does she dare risk getting closer...? Standing in the middle of the field of rocks, Kintae's magic feeling screams at him as the rocks begin to viberate just before they explode. Kahvi! His eyes snap to his chieftess. With all the shards, she's too near, and he knows, in her heart, this would most likely kill her. If only he were close enough to be her shield... A shield! She needs her shield! Brows draw up, and his hand reaches out to his chieftess. "Kahvi," he shouts, wishing he could just appear before her, his shield between her and harm. And that's when it happens, the first true glimmer of controlled magic from a go-back. It takes the shape of Kintae's round brightmetal shield, appearing and hovering before Kahvi. The shield glitters brightly, glinting like ice-metal each time a new piece of stone slams against it. Sadly, this leaves Kintae with absolutely no protection against the shrapnel at his own feet. The three Gobacks approaching Ryriel can't protect themselves early enough against the flying shards, and are damaged by them before they can raise their shields to protect them against more of those, but just one of them falls to the ground for a moment, yet their rage is so carrying, that they are not unable to continue fighting. Even if bleeding horrible, they continue their way towards Ryriel, and it seems as if there is one thought on their mind: Not this time, even if they have to crawl towards Ryriel, they will try to hurt and kill him. But, they hold back as they see what is happening to Flashfire and Joth, not knowing what to do. The other two GoBacks which had been launching for Imriel are being damaged from the back, and both go to the ground, unconscious and bleeding heavily. The chieftess' green eyes shoot with fire as she sees the shards flying into the other GoBacks, automatically expecting pain, but then there is this shield, Kintae's magical shield protecting her from damage. Her eyes turn to Kintae, but she appears to be paralyzed, ignoring everything else around her, turning back to watch the so hated enemy drop to the ground. She couldn't have stopped her movements anyway, even if she wanted to, all of her very being focused on this final step -- and so the cold metal cuts right into the twin's heart. But, Kahvi's expression is not that of a triumphing victor. While the rage calms down, there comes a bitter expression to her as she turns the spear's blade around in the elf's body, making sure Imriel is dead. Moonshade drops to the ground in agonizing pain as molten rock pummels her skin. The damage is fairly minimal compared to that of the elves closer to the blast, but the feeling of flesh burnt by unexpected molten rock is not lessened. She lies on the ground prone, face contorted by the bloodcurdling scream of severe pain. After the initial moment of pain passes, her scream dies away, but she continues to lie with her face down. Unconscious. Imriel is utterly still, though he is not dead as the slow rise and fall of chest indicate. Kahvi rushes forward, Yeyeen drops down, blocking the charge, but Kahvi, the adept warrior, changes hold on sword, and moves to swipe and thrust from the side in a moving charge, landing a blow on Imriel. A long gash opens up on his side, just as the little preserver squeees and rushes to begin spooting goo all over Imriel. The preserver's webbing, just beginning, and the rock surrounding Ryriel and Imriel, explodes in heated bits. An inert elf, unconscious, unprotected and bleeding can not hope to escape. The heated rocks bore into his own flesh, sizzling and singeing muscle below. He falls to the side, breath ragged, and slowing fast. Kureel is unconscious, and is pretty sure he *isnt* bleeding, due to the flames he recalls being all over him. His spirit stubbornly clings to this place, he must protect his Lord, cannot let these murderers destroy everything he holds so dear. Savith was so not expecting flying bits of rock! Cringing, Savith lifts from the ground and flies backward, getting hit with a few pieces of the stone. Shaking it off, and working past the burns, the Chosen surveys the area quickly. Brother down, and near that wolfess. But she's someone's soulmate, isn't she? He glances at Strongbow. That one's. Flying above the carnage, Savith hovers above the pair, and reaches down to collect them, gripping Moonshade's wrist in one hand and Kureel's belt with the other. **Up, Brother. Up, cousin,** he sends to those he collects. In a locksend, to Winnowill, Savah: Imriel's hisses inwardly, he knows what that netting is, he know all to well. And then, another net comes to the fore, one of his own crafting, one made to hold another. Yet, this one is different. It glitters brightly, the trapped soul inside held tightly, begging to be set free. Stranger still, in the Void, all have somehting which holds them to the physical, something that can be felt: but not the trapped elf held by Imriel, what tugs at her, is the Palace. ** If you stop me, I will do worse to her, than you can imagine. ** Its a threat, one he is not certain of, but one he will try none the less. Still, he moves to the fore, heading towards Savah. Yeyeen sneers as Kahvi sidesteps her and starts to bring her magic to bear on the goback as the ground all around explodes into a world of flying sharpnel. Ever been at ground zero when a grenade went off? Well, Yeyeen now has. Tiny bits of heated stone rip into her unprotected back and cause the elfess to lurch forward a moment. She looks dazed, her magics failing her, as she sinks to her knees. 'I failed.' she thinks to herself as blood starts to stream down her body. A cough, a bit of blood bubbling to her lips as she blankly stares at Kahvi. Sensed in a locksend to Imriel, Savah: Winnowill scoffs, so he has an elf trapped? If he is stopped they will be released, if they are already dead.. then they will be freed. **You will do nothing, and then more of those strands strike out from behind her, black tendrils of astral hair acting as striking snakes, the shield only a diversion, for now. The ropes seek to ensnare legs, arms, spirit and soul. Then comes in the net for the final blow. Sensed in a locksend to Winnowill, Imriel, Savah: Suntop has only been awake for a few moments, but somehow he has rested enough for his strength to return. It is only a moment after the locksend from Savah before he sends his spirit darting into the Astral Plane, following and searching for tht other spirits that are so familiar. Viresse accepts Tsoran's limp form from Ktai, her attention momentarily diverted by the explosion and spray of debris falling over the field. Wincing, she staggers momentarily under Tsoran's weight before she regains her balance, rising into the air as she carries him up towards the summit of the Mountain. She doesn't look back, concentrating only on getting the Chosen away from the battle. Viresse pushes the air away and lifts higher... and higher... In a locksend, to Winnowill, Suntop, Savah: Imriel can feel his body going week, he can feel the life flowing from him, even here, he can feel that bit of his soul, slipping, desiring to run to the Palace, but HE CAN'T DO that. He MUST succeed. The weak one, a last charge, a last barrage of mental power, sent and barreling towards the Mother of Memory: for she has been docile thus far, only assisting, not doing. Skywise has stayed on the outskirts of the battle, not for cowardice, but more to preserve himself for dodging into the thick of things and dragging the wounded and unconscious (and some dead?) out of the battle and out of the immediate range of the onslaugt of magic and burning shards of rock and the like. This is one of those times it's wise to dodge in and grab everyone he possibly can. Though his body is smaller than many of the victims of the heated shrapnel attack, Skywise is strong and dives into ground zero and scoops up some of his fallen kin. Seeing the little cluster of three GoBacks crawling painfully from ground zero, Skywise scopps one under his arm and a second over his shoulder, then offers a hand to the third in the hopes he or she will be able to help drag themself. The going is slow - probably too slow, but Skywise can't bear to leave one behind. The sharp and still heated stone shards under their feet crackle and punch holes in their shoes and feet, though this isn't a time to stop moving. They move as fast as they can out of harms way, hoping with every breath that they can move more quickly than the twins can recover and attack again. Ryriel's spirit flees his body, making its way toward the Palace of the High Ones. Flashfire's eyes flutter, focusing on nothing as his head rolls to one side, a trail of blood running down from the edge of his mouth. Somehow, he landed on his back and the shrapnel missed his heart, his eyes, his brain. Wounds mar the rest of his body, blood beginning to pool around him. He still breathes, but it fluctuates between that of someone struggling to hang on vs. someone ready to let go of his damaged body. Lying on his side, he quivers a couple times and curls up a bit, closing his eyes. If he lets 'sleep' take over, he will not awaken. Would Cutter, his adoptive father, give up so easily? He would not..perhaps that thought helps him hold on as long as he can, wanting to see the face of Bearclaw's son again. Flashfire is not of their blood, but that doesn't matter now. However, time is running out. The Palace is close. Would his soul go there? Would it just roam the lands instead? Skywise is barely noticed, helping the trio of GoBacks. It might be too dangerous to move the wolfelf, though. Strongbow feels his mate get hit by the shrapnel, and sends out for her, spurring Kindle to run the circumference of the still trecherous rock pit and toward ...wait? Is that a glider.... helping Moonshade up? Whoa. The large Goback lays still, his weight still upon the empty shell of Ryriel's body. Blood pools beneath Joth, as his frame shudders, struggling to breath as his systems start to shut down. With Kahvi saved and nothing protecting himself, Kintae's bare and unprotected flesh gets swiss-cheesed by the flying rock that struck him. The last thing his eyes ever saw was that glimmering shield appearing before Kahvi, and then... he sees with a new set of eyes. Having left Kintae's shield in order to try to kill Imriel, shards flew right into Kahvi's legs, three of them and leaving her bleeding. Actually, upon closer examination, there are many little scratches, yet less than on others that were standing so near by. Her right leg seems to be hurt most, the grey leather turning on a much darker and red shade as the blood seeps through. Yet, Kahvi doesn't seem to notice. There is a cold fire starting to burn behind her eyes as she turns to Yeyeen, almost growling at her, "Trollshit and rotten fish guts, what the bloody palace do you think you ARE? They must be killed, BOTH of them!" She doesn't care for Yeyeen's statement, and she doesn't care for the preserver that wraps Imriel in its web now. "Curse you." Leaning down to her, there is an unamused smirk as she spits to the ground next to Yeyeen before she turns around to Ryriel, walking up to him and hoping to be able to kill at least him, not noticing that his spirit has left his body. Ktai pauses, those onyx eyes looking over the area, taking in the scene, and decides that if there was ever a time for any of the High Ones and Firstborn that were supposedly in her lineage to be paying attention, now's that time. She rises into the air, drawing on magics that normally stay quiet, darting quickly through and across to the fallen wolf-elf that she's been desperately sending to stay focused. ** Don't you give up on me, don't you dare give up on me. ** Granted, when she ultimately discovers who he is, she'll likely have a good bout of amusement, given that he once shot her in the arm with an arrow. What a way to return the favor. Magic snakes out, she's reaching for him with her arms, even as her magics pull him ever so slowly from the pull of the world. Is she too late? She can't know until she has him safely back by the tents. Moonshade dangles from Savith's magical hold. She looks around the battlefield from her higher vantage. It's a gruesome scene and she takes it all in. The image is just more than she is used to despite everything she has done in her life. This is war and no matter how necessary, war is not the Way. The burnt survivors and mangled casualties are unbearable. Tears stream down her cheeks. She looks down again and her eyes rest on Strongbow. Sensed in a locksend to Winnowill, Imriel, Savah: Suntop arrives just in time for the release of that mental energy. ** NO!** is shouted as Suntop's spirit moves in to block that wave of energy from harming the Mother of Memory. Something catches his attention for a moment, but he then returns his full attention to the elf and task at hand. As the ragged breathing slows, the spooting of the Preserver slows. And then Leafdrop, the spooting preserver, looks rather sad as it perches on Imriel's shoulder. "Aww, highthing all gone," it states rather despondently. It then looks up with big, sad, plaintive eyes, wondering what to do now. HoneyGold, the Preserver smacked over into a tree trunk, finally make sit to its feet. Its little wings all crumpled and torn. Frustrated, it mutters in high pitched preserver speak, wanting its nut-cap back. Sensed in a locksend to Suntop, Imriel, Savah: Winnowill is surprised by Suntop's entrance, but with all her attention focused here, the surprise doe not dull her might. Those tendrils of power tighten about the elfs form, constricting, retracting, and the net looms closer. Then, she begins to send, her power, and pride at being attacked here again, funneling her blacksending into the remaining twins mind. Numbing it, driving into remission, even as her trap tightens around him. In a locksend to Savah: Imriel does not assault, nor does he batter and bash or blacksend the one aiding the dark-haired blacksender. Instead, he throws at Savah, a wash of everything he believes is true, the joy of purging and cleansing the elves on this rock that they do not call home, the joy of ordering his brother to cause pain, when he himself does not have the power to do so. The anger at the Underworld for ousting them, the desire for revenge full and complete with the annihilation of their entire tribe and home. The need to see that all with impure blood or thought, be stricken from life, and placed into the Palace where they can be then used as powerful tools, all at his discretion. His way is the right way, his mind batters into Savah’s. Death is on his hands, and now, she can feel it through him, feel a soul screaming helplessly in his mind, seeking freedom. But Imriel is master and holds to her, forcing Savah to ‘taste’ what I is like to truly control. It is elation and joy: for him. Sensed in a locksend to Winnowill, Suntop, Imriel: Savah's spirit draws back, surprised as well by the seeming assault of the other. Its then, that the mind of the other, touches on her own, he sends, and what he sends, leaves the Mother in shock. But Suntop, Winnowill: the pair, together, such a strange combination, but effective one as well. Her spirit moves to flee, away, must get away. In a locksend, to Winnowill, Suntop, Savah: Imriel's mind barrels into Savah's, not blacksending, not snaring: just sending. But his charge is thwarted, his sending halting, his mental barrage coming to a halt as Winnwoill snares his soul. The soul he holds, at least, screams, its joys of freedom, and Verlaan's soul goes where it should: to the Palace. To Suntop, Imriel turns his attention, ** No! Not you TOO!! ** He thought that one understood. They'd talked only a couple times, but, certainly he understood, he seemed to... And then, a look of stark terror ripples across his astral image, and his mind screams in fear and rage, ** NO!!! ** A tug then felt on the soul of the elf. Will Winnowill hold on to a soul, darting to the Palace? Can she? Would she? Would Suntop let her? Sensed in a locksend to Suntop, Imriel, Savah: Winnowill chuckles in the Astral plane, reading the fear, the recognition, understanding suddenly what that other soul was as it flew to its joy. As the soul is constrained she seeks to hold, it even if only for a breath. **How does it feel, Lost one, to be held, to know that if you are loosed, you will suffer the same fate that you inflicted on so many others. Which I wonder would you prefer.** She pauses, smiles gravely. **For what you have done to me and to mine, no, to our people, I should hold you here for an eternity, tormenting your soul for ages. But I am not you. Go, and know the peace you do not deserve.** She releases, and returns hurriedly to the real world. Healing is required, and she can waste no more time on these Twins. Sensed in a locksend to Winnowill, Imriel, Savah: Suntop turns to watch Savah flee...perhaps it is best. But turning back, his spirit frowns at Winnowill, ** Do not kill him! ** He reaches out to stop the Glideress...to stand between them if he must. He has come late to the battle...he is still trying to catch up to all that he has come upon. There is no more life in Kintae, for he is dead. (Imriel gets pulled to the Palace now that his lifeblood has bled out) Side Hall - Palace The appearance of this chamber is much different than the rest of the Palace. The walls are made of the same pale purplish-pink stone. Like the rest of the Palace, the ceiling is high and arched, and the walls are covered in beautiful filigree. The thing that seperates this from the rest of the Palace is that there are piles of pelts layed upon the floor. It has a much more earthy feel about it and smells the wolves that have stayed here in the past. With Winnowill's releasing of Imriel, he fights tooth and nail so to speak, against the draw to the palace, he does not want to give up, or give in, ** NO! Not yet! Not like this! ** His mind screams, an echo of his brother's cry as well, when his life was extinguished. And even as Winnowill lets Imriel's spirit free, Suntop makes a split-second decision and goes hurtling back towards his own body. Once safely ensconced in familiar flash, his blue eyes snap open and he jumps to his feet to try and pull that spirit into himself rather than let it settle into the Palace where it could do harm. He has never done such a thing...he doesn't know if he can, but he will try for all of elvenkind. Ryriel's soul was rushing to the Palace long before his brother's was, calling for the High One mother that had 30 years before arrived within the palace. Such joy at being free, such joy at being home. How did he die? Why did he die? It does not matter. Someone calls to him, and desperately, Imriel tries to cling towards that one, going to the Palace, means failure, means he has lost, he can feel the freedom of death trying to seep over the senses of his soul: it is not what he wants, he wants life and form: and he will try and get it, through Suntop, if he is allowed. Another spirit? It feels familiar as well...as familiar as his spirit would be to Ember's. A look of fear enters the Mystic's eyes as he recognizes the twin and attempts to pull it towards him as well. "High Ones, help me..." is whispered as he closes his eyes and awaits impact...if it works. Closing his eyes tightly, Suntop opens himself up to the spirits, calling them to him and hoping that his call is stronger than that of the Palace. What? What? What's this? Someone... pulling on.. no! I want my mommy! I want my mommy!!! and my brother too! Cause I have one of those, you know. Ryriel's soul struggles against the pull, wanting to be withhis family here in the Palace The spirit of Imriel continues struggling against te pull of the Palace. He doesn't want that, he wants to cleanse and clean the elves off of this cursed planet. He needs to be in corporeal form to do this. Somewhere, he hears his brother, his mother, and he doesn't want them right now! While Ryriel wants his mommy and struggles against Suntop to follow the pull of the Palace. Opposites even in death, these twins are. His eyes still closed, Suntop focuses to the two spirits, speaking to them, ** This is the Palace of the High Ones. It is the source of all elvenkind and I will -not- see it harmed. ** He has learned to keep things simple with spirits lest they forget the question, ** Do you mean elvenkind Harm? ** **I want my mommy,** Ryriel's soul replies, childishly. And the longer and longer he stays held here, the more and more aggitated the soul becomes. **I want my mommy! I want my mommy! I want my mommy! I want my mommy! I want my mommy! I want my mommy! I want my mommy! I want my mommy!** repeat ad nusium. ** Cleanse! ** Imriel's soul blazes, ** They must be destroyed! ** And there is no doubt, he will use Suntop to do it. But there is fear too, fear, that if he loses this battle now, if he doe snot convince this one, to hold to him, so he can hold in return, that all will be lost, and he will not be able to clean. He scowls at the notions of his brother, and fears that they will be his, if he gives in to the pull. Eveshka walks through the archway from the Entry Hall. ** Go...** is offered gently to Ryriel. The pull is eased on that one twin and he is allowed to join his family. It is to Imriel that Suntop turns his attention next. He is standing in the hall, his eyes closed and his body both relaxed and almost expectant of...something. ** Do you mean to harm the Palace? ** is sent, seemingly to no one at all. In a locksend, to Suntop, Ryriel: Imriel's soul blazes, fearfully, ** I DO NOT want the Palace! ** He can not succeed in the Paalce, he will be lost in the Palace, his plans, gone to hades in a handbasket. ** You want me to be with you! I will stay with you! ** It's his only hope, somehow, Verlaan sometimes controlled him, maybe he could do the same. Its his hope, his last hope. Into the hall slips a wisp of an elfess, hair windblown, new skirts bedraggled. So much for Daia's clothing. Eveshka pauses, violet eyes taking in the scene, head canting to one side as she watches. Well, at least Suntop's on his feet, she supposes that it could be worse. Granted, if he even acknowledges her, that will be a minor miracle. Sensed in a locksend to Suntop, Imriel: Ryriel's soul completes its journey back to the Palace, back to his mother. There's only one thing missing! His brother! Settling into the souls within these halls, Ryriel's soul notes the missing family member. But the joy of being home and being with his mother... it's blessfully overwhelming, and it echoes back to Suntop like a soft sigh, like the soft sigh of a child who's mind is being sheltered by a mother's, by a mother whom sends to him to cover over the lingering fear of a waking nightmare. Sensed in a locksend to Imriel, Ryriel: Suntop cannot help a sympathetic sigh as Ryriel finds his peace. His attention turns back to Imriel once again, ** The Palace is where we are all from and where we will all return to... ** But there is so much anger in this one...so much fear. There is a great sigh that seems to echo through the elf, ** I cannot let you go yet. ** Suntop bows his yead even as he sends, a tear slipping from his closed lashes to slide down a sun-brown cheek. In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel continues to struggle against the pull of the Palace, elation, with this one, he will succeed, he WILL!!! ** Don't let me go! Don't ever let me go!! ** Joy sings through him, this one is strong, he can use that, he will use that, at the first opportunity. In a locksend to Imiel, Suntop braces himself for whatever he just did, ** I will let you go when I know you will not harm anymore. ** If he can. In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel's sending remains elated, ** HOld me! Hold me so I can cleanse! With you I will cleanse! No.. No, WE will cleanse! Together, we will cleanse I can do it, with you! You are strong, brother weak! With you, we can crush them all!!! ** In a locksend to Imriel, Suntop's send is strong and determined...in this he will not be budged, ** NO! You will be held by me. You will NOT be given freedom until you understand. No elf will be cleansed. None! You must -learn-! ** She waits, a silent figure in white, to see what will happen, noting, listening, watching with those strange violet eyes still aglitter. She never did have the ability to see those spirits within the Palace, nor does she particularly desire it. She isn't one for fanciful thoughts and spirit dreams any longer. In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel does not cower, his soul is strong, but it moves, like a cloying heavy scent on a damp night, suffocating in its thickness and desires, ** You will learn! I will teach you, I will show you! We will cleanse them all together. Hold me, and we will do it! We will crush them all! ** Suntop remains fairly motionless, his head lifting up rather determinedly. Eveshka cannot for certain say that Suntop is ignoring her, so she will settle upon the floor, a puff of glitter and dirty silks, waiting to see what comes of things before she makes her ultimate decision. There are things that he should know, things that she will tell him of her own accord, but everything in its time. All as it must be. In a locksend to Imriel, Suntop again, offers firm opposition, ** NO! There will be no teaching. You will learn from ME! You will learn tolerance and acceptance. NO ONE will be crushed. You will be held a prisoner until you learn! ** He then pulls at the spirit, tugging it into what he hope will be a prison inside himself. In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel does not resist the pull into Suntop's self, though, the Palace continues to exert its pull on Imriel's soul - how long Suntop can keep the spirit out is unknown. But, a prison? Imriel does not see this as such, this is chance, this is a 'new home'. And the first attempt is made, his mind exerting pressure against Suntop's own, demanding that they move, that they leave, he wants to walk, to get back to the Mountain, ** Come brother of spirit! We must go!! ** In a locksend to Imriel, Suntop quickly seals his innermost mind off from the new spirit, but he also asserts his own desires, ** No. We are remaining here. I do not wish to go to the Mountain. ** For now, at least. Suntop lets out a heavy sigh and opens his eyes. Blue eyes turn to Eveshka as he senses her presence, "Where did you come from?" His voice is still a little thick with unshed tears and emotion...it is the realization of what he just did and what it could mean. In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel continues sending, ** OH, yes, you wish to go to the Mountain! You wish to stop the dark haired one! We can do it! Together, we can! And the heated one, the docile one! We can stop her too, together! We can!!!! ** "I came from the field that is at the foot of the Mountain." Her voice is quiet, a strange weight giving it a depth that she does not generally have within that light little lilt. She is real, if that is what he is asking, for even though she is yet as pale as a Shaping, she is living, breathing, a thing of form and substance very much attached to the world as it is. "Oh..." is offered softly to Eveshka before Suntop sends a sharp, ** No! You will not touch Savah! ** Winnowill, though...a possible weakness has been found. Not that he wants to destroy her, but he wants her to understand the harm she has caused and for her to feel remorse. Eveshka raises a silvery eyebrow, but says nothing, understanding that Suntop sees the spirits, hears their whispers. She's working hard to forget the ones that she saw. And she doesn't even believe in them. She'll just sit here and wait. Call it... resting. Imriel locksends ** ALl of them! We can cleanse them all!!! ** and by cleanse, he means kill, ther eis no doubt about that. ** The dark haired, I almost, my brother was weak. You and I! We are not weak, we are STRONG! We can do it. Now, together! We can stop her! We can cleanse her, purify her through fire! ... You can, work fire? ** to Suntop. ** No! ** is sent again and Suntop moves away, as if trying to escape the other spirit in his mind. But that is impossible. Turning to Eveshka, he offers, "You should ask Rayek if he wants the Palace. I do not know that I can have it any longer..." Suntop locksends ** -I- am strong! You are dead. You will listen to ME! ** Suntop then takes a moment before insisting, ** There will be no cleaning of any. And I do not have the magics of your brother. ** ** to Imriel. "Talk to me later, Suntop. I will be here." She is patient, she can wait. She cannot know how it feels to have another's will imposed upon hers in the fashion that he seems to be, but she has a decent enough imagination. And she's seen it in other elves. "For now, take care of yourself." Suntop flicks a gaze to Eveshka, "Please, Eveshka...ask him for me if you see him. I do not wish to leave it here..." He gives another sigh before offering, "I have taken care of too much..." In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel cries, whimpers and begs, but does not shut up, ** No, you listen to me! We listen to we! We are one now, you and me. We are together, closer than brothers... ** But then something strikes him. The answer is no, no to the brothers magic, ** How will we cleanse?! We must cleanse! ** Eveshka relents with a sigh, getting the impression that he, as stubborn as she, will not let it rest until she tells him that she will. "I will try, Suntop. I do not know that he will see me, but I will try. When it is safe for you to do so, I suggest that you rest again. I am, as ever, here to help." Like she did before, or... not. ** How will we cleanse?! We must cleanse! ** is sent, but it is a voice that is Suntop's...but not Suntop's. Bright blue eyes widen and he scowls, ** There will be no cleansing. And there is no 'we'. You are not me! ** Rest? The question should be, will Suntop find rest ever again? Well, now the other eyebrow rises. That's never a good sign... Two sendvoices and talk of cleansing... she wasn't privy to any of the sends from the Twins while turning the Scroll of Colors, so she doesn't put the two together that way. Instead, she puts it together that a spirit is making headway against Suntop... but she doesn't know which one. Not good is putting it mildly, and while Eveshka isn't too sweet to swear, she can't come up with a phrase pithy enough to illustrate her thoughts on the matter, so she remains silent. In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel laughs maniacally, what kept Imriel hinged, was his brother, and now that link to his brother is utterly gone, the madness of his magics bursting forth so young, with no quality teacher, shows forth brightly, ** There is no I for we are We! We are only together! And we WILL cleanse! We MUST cleanse! ** There is a moment, he goes quiet, then brightly sparks up, ** The child! We will get the child, clenase by beat! Let the beast eat each other alive! We can! We will! ** ** The child! We will get the child...** bleeds through, before Suntop vehemently hisses, "No! You shall not touch anyone!" He tries to push the spirit back, push his consciousness down and gain control of all of himself. "Eveshka..." is offered for a moment before he sits down on his pile of furs. "Is Savah well? I don't know if she was harmed by this one...but it is ended, yes?" "It..." Eveshka begins, pondering what she is hearing both in send and in voice. Odd... "Some is over, and some has begun. Some have died... others..." She pulls a name from the air, perhaps a bit of concern coloring her voice. "One that I just met... Flashfire... may yet die." She settles somewhat more, thoughts glittering from one thing to the other, finally to rest upon another thought entirely. "Flashfire?" Suntop looks up, his bright brows creasing, "Can he be healed?" The wolfrider may not remember him, but the mystic remembers the younger elf. Getting back to his feet, he scowls briefly at nothing before he turns back to the Glideress, "Can I see him?" In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel continues on, urging, he can feel the Mystic rising, ** Walk! Yes! We go now! To the Mountain! We go, we will get the dark one, we can finish the docile one! ** He laughs gleefully, yay! His work will continue! Suntop locksends ** You be quiet. I am going for me. I am not going for you. Go to sleep. ** to Imriel. In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel seems to find that notion intensely funny, ** No sleep is needed! Ever! No more! ** Those silvery eyebrows shoot up quickly, and she shakes her head. "Ktai had him when I got there." For a moment, she can see, the sight burned into her mind's eye: the wolf-elf, fur and flesh burned, blood everywhere... it was quite possibly the worst thing that she had ever seen. In a flicker, she wraps her mind about the sight and stuffs it well out of memory's easy reach and shakes her head. "He is in Wrapstuff, if nothing else to keep him alive. Winnowill did what she could then and there while Ktai held him..." Her voice trails off. She saw his frame ease, she saw Ktai's look of relief. "He will need time to recover." As will they all. Blue eyes turn to Eveshka, "I need you to use your magic on me. I need you to put Imriel to sleep in my mind. Please..." So that he can have some peace and quiet and so that he can best figure out the firstborn's prison. (Suntop pose) Violet eyes widen, and she looks to Suntop for a long moment before replying. "Suntop... I..." She falls silent for a moment, looking to her hands as she replies. "I can try." There is, after all, no guarantee that she will succeed. Yes, she is older, yes, she has the talent... but that talent has more downfalls than not... and she isn't precisely all in one piece herself, you know. "Please, Eveshka..." Suntop is all but pleading. "Try." He will even reach forward to take her hands, his eyes looking up into hers to help with the contact. "Just put him to sleep..." She stills, gathering the threads of fragile magic, feeling her way down the mental descent... no, that's wrong... that thread is far too weak. Go down that path and that which is stable will break. Shift, refocus, descend again. Those violet eyes rise, flickering crystal for a moment, then faltering back to violet. Her thoughts scatter, sweeping about like crystal goblet breaking into a thousand little shards, and then those eyes snap to crystal, the descent catching and pulling her down into that last reserve of magic. She is reluctant, her heart is heavy, but he has asked and she will try. Sleep, she all but whispers. Let him have some measure of peace. For now... for others... spin the world a different story, let your thoughts fly free within the endless abyss that forms the Dreaming, walking in memory and dancing in the shadow of thought... In a locksend to Suntop, Imriel is oblivious to the magic wrought towards him, after all, those with the gift of hypnotism, must have line of sight, but, on some level, he senses something, somewhere directed towards his being. And Imriel grows angry, ** OH nono! We! It is WE that are here together! No one else!!! ** A struggle ensues, how did Verlaan do this? HOw did she force her plant shaping through his fingers when she gathered control enough. He struggles to push consciousness of Suntop away, wanting to fight magic with magic. It seems for a moment that the magic would help...but then something starts to fight back. "No..." is murmured, before Suntop reaches to his temples, "Stop...stop!" Goosebumps rise on his skin, his 'Magic Sense' tingling something fierce. The suggestion is too much...the suggestion from both sides, and he goes limp, falling asleep as per the hypnotic suggestion. Those eyes shatter to violet again, a gasp involuntarily taking away her breath. Oh no... Oh, Voll, what has she done? The descent was wrong, it didn't feel right, she shouldn't have done it... "Suntop?" She whispers, almost afraid of the answer that might come. What if she's put Suntop to sleep... only for the other to awaken... like what happened with... oh, High Ones, anything but that. Though Suntop's mind is asleep, he is awake, but the mind that replies, is one angry and outraged, and distinctly not Suntop, no, it is Imriel ** We must move! We must go! Cleanse them all! With fire and pain!!! ** But the body does not respond to the orders of the only mind awake in there, probably a good thing too. She blinks. This is... different. He's asleep... but... An eyebrow quirks. This isn't at all akin to Mysia and Alorn... at least, she thinks not. Then again, that was a simple case of split persona, and not at all as complex as this, not that Eveshka truly knows the difference. But a comment has been made, heated and angered, and she finds herself hard pressed to ignore it. After some contemplation, she leans back against the wall and returns a send that is cool, mostly emotionless, and matter-of-fact: ** Why bother? ** ** YOu dirty, muddled up half breed! ** Imriel screams at Eveshka from Suntop's body. How disconcerting is that, really? Not just a separate persona, but a seperate soul, the magic, the feel of sending, so different. ** You can not even begin to understand! We will cleanse them all from this world! ** Now, if only he could make the body move, will it, ok, pinky finger first... nothing. She laughs softly. It's a bell-like tone, a gentle sound that ripples like a child's dance in the damp grasses of morning. ** I, a half-breed? Oh, there's a thought. You're right. I'm not a half-breed, so I cannot understand. It seems to me a great deal of trouble to end up all alone. ** Now Alone, that she understands. That she comprehends entirely too well. And it echoes in that send, the ripple, the feeling. Empty. Nothing. Alone. Alone. Inwardly Imriel flinches, but he has so little control, that there is not even a twitch of muscle on Suntop's cheek. His souls sends, ** No! Not alone! We are one now! We will cleanse, we will right it all! ** The ravings of a lunatic. If Gliders could spell, Eveshka might spell it. ** So tell me. What happens when everything is gone? When only you remain? What happens then? What is the one? ** All the while, she sits there, watching Suntop's form. Eventually, she will likely move and gather some furs to settle around him, make him somewhat more comfortable. ** One. So lonely. ** Offhand, that little send, laced with that echo once more. Oh yes, she's been there, done that, and built the walls around her after putting up the warning signs. ** We are not alone. We are together! ** Imriel sends defiantly. And then, he goes silent, concentrating on moving limbs, growing more and more frustrated as it completely and utterly fails. ** Together? You and...? ** She glances about and sees no-one else. ** I certainly don't see anyone else. So... I guess that means you'd end up alone. Besides, if you cleansed them all... ** She pauses, looking idly back at the still figure with decided bemusement. ** And what sort of action is 'cleanse'? Sounds like you're headed for the river for a good dunking, if you ask me. And where does that get you but with a head full of water, and ears full of sand? ** Maddening yet? She hasn't even started. After all, she has a little brother, and the most stubborn Sorrow's Ender for a father. But neither of them are insane, dead, and stuck in someone else's body, and having to share the location to boot! Imriel utterly ignores the female, not worth his time, besides, he HATES sending to the lesser elves, thats what his brother was for: weak fool he turned out to be, crying out for Mommy! Ugh, how disgusting can you get! Move pinky finger, move! And nothing. She laughs softly, perhaps to him, perhaps to herself, and rises to her feet, calling furs with weary magic, and settling them about Suntop. She's not worried anymore. That one's good and trapped where he can only be an irritant. At least, as far as she's concerned, that is.