The Labyrinth

[Wamphyri]

Ones not of words, but of calculated actions, The Wamphyri carefully navigated the maze, using their most envied mind clouding techniques to mask themselves from the adventurers and the chances. All of whom at a most oppurtune moment will find themselves slain, enslaved or otherwise removed as an obstacle.

The four Wamphyri Warriors kept careful gaurd of both front and rear of Zek and Shaithis who loathe to admit their distrust of one another, hence both their attendance. The canine being, with its dark purple fur, and yellowed eyes quitly growls to itself, knowing this was not its original form nor function, but found itself bound to its new masters.

However, upon the entering of the Labrynth, they had smelt The Evil Angel, his presence of evil made them remember his rude and unabashed introduction to them not long after they had arrived. Upon turning a corner, there, in front of a mage, stood The Evil Angel in front of a pedestal.

The mage, powerful as he was, is at the moment inconsequential to their ultimate purpose. However, The Evil Angel, was there, bold and unabashed. As so far, none knew of their presence, and it is time to reveal their presence, their enquiring minds extending outwards, dropping the mask that had hidden them so far.

Their enquiring minds prod and poke, twist and turn, writhe and wriggle through others minds. They attempt to tear open old scars and learn what they can, exude a little influence in favour of themselves. Shaithis speaks first, "What issss it that you have come for?" He stares, as if to already be imaging the demise of the two standing before him.

[Panther385]

Panther had come as soon as WhiteOak called her. She froze in midstep behind him when she laid eyes upon The Evil Angel. The thing of myth... she'd heard about it from some of her fellow councilmen. She was overwhelmed by mixed feelings; hatred, awe, curiosity. The pedestal caught her eye next.
"What is this...?" She said, a blank expression donning her feline mug.

[Falhado]

((My question has gone unanswered. I shall assume that this story is before Corporate Developments 2. If anyone disagrees with this, I am open to suggestion, but none have placed it anywhere within the Dojo's timeline.

Many thanks dear Brotha's and Sista's))

Blackfoot had been unable to contact Father Mac, but instead had informed one of his many of his flock, one of the Gargoyle's perched atop The Sanctuary. As soon as Father Mac had heard that the dojo was in danger, as was its moon, he found himself compelled to help in the betterment of all of its inhabitants.

He had had one of the Gargoyles do an extremely high arial sweep, taking into account that he would eventually fall out of the sky above the Labrynth. Relaying the images back to Father Mac, the Gargoyle eventually flew out of the airspace, collapsing, feeling overly exhausted. Several others assisted in his recovery.

Father Mac had not yet created Omen, but had been slowly becoming influenced by the gas that had leaked into The Sanctuary. Right now, his mind is on a balance between purity of mind, and unecesary self-involvement.

Approaching the Labrynth, he knew most of the directions, and following them, he came across Kazamaru sleeping in a bush to one side. Kneeling, he gently shakes Kazamaru's shoulder, attempting to awaken him. "Come now pilgrim, now is no time for sleep, but to put oneself through trial and self-improvement. Wake young one." Father Mac is polite enough not to intrude upon another's mind, and as such did not know that Kazamaru was indeed a Spirit.

[alakin1]

Syui arrived a few seconds after Panther, he saw her and Whiteoak ahead, he opened his mouth to speak,
"What i..." he stopped in mid-sentence, in front of him was a on of the last things he had ever expected to see, an angel. As his initial suprise subsided he asked in an awed voice,
"Is he an enemy or ally?"

[Shine]

Whiteoak's mental shielding alerts him to the Wamphyri's attempts to infilitrate his mind. They do not get in!, but he is now aware of their presence, they are not hiding it.

His thoughts reach out,.... down through the soles of his feet, into the earth beneath him, and out into the earth all around the area and down into the rock beneath them,..... enough can be found or transmuted for his purposes.

Without even turning to face them, Whiteoak draws from the earth and casts into the air (behind himself and his comrads, and infront of the Wamphyri) a veritable mist of fine silver particles. It is held firmly but flexibly in place by magical energy, which will allow small items to pass through it, and wind to blow through it, without removing it, and to fill in gaps when any opening are attempted to be made in it. It is actually very little silver, but as fine particles spread out over an area, it would pose a barrier to vampyre type beings.

Again addessing the Evil Angel, Whiteoak says

"I ask again esteemed one, are you with us or against us, It might be good to know this soon, as you see another party has arrived, who I would guess are desireous of that which I believe may be on the basolith behind you. So, how say you?"

[TheEvilAngel]

The furred figure is frightened of me / sensitive to my true nature. A wise way to feel. So many condemn/shun/hate fear. I would not be so frivolous, could I feel it.

Fear exists for a reason, to preserve existence.
Without fear death comes quickly.
This furred one has fear; Death does not make a visitation yet.

His aura flares brilliantly. His protective measures are primed. Possibly I could still inflict spiritual harm upon him

I could also possibly fly skywards and hold back the falling moon

within the realm of the possible but far from the kingdom of the believable

"Hello good companion,” it says. It has a friendly voice and an inviting smile. It radiates warmth and friendship. A sensation touches me then, I think is called revulsion. It mild - not like hunger or pain – a fluttering at most - present nonetheless.

Warmth, love. Such things are not meant for those like me.


“Have we something here with which we can stay the moon and saved this world of ours?"
Extended finger, pointing hand, an object behind me I have not noted is targeted.

Our world. Not ours. Yours. I am not a place here. No deed in my hand entitles me to the land above. It is below where I rule, a chthonic court, king of subterranea, arbiter of cold stone and wet earth. The Cave. Before the squatters came. My resting place, my cell, my home.

And still I am bound to live or die here, if those are the right terms.

A feline follows up to the rear of the furry man. The stink of the squatters. Evil Council. New this one is. My nostrils flare. It views me with fear and ire and reverence and so many other things, for I can smell it react so. The acrid broth of aromas strikes hard at my nostrils. Exhale, driving the impeding foreign scents from the sanctity of my form. The invaders are conquered by my breath.

Another followed the felid, species and gender barely perceptible to the broiling broth of my frenzied reasoning. It too reacts with awe, but not fear. I am unknown to it as it is unknown to me. This tabula rasa shall have yet to be writ upon by the quill of my bloody feather.

Another presence is there. It does not arrive, but rather reveals itself. A mist burning away in the light of a dark sun, or a veil ripped away from some ghastly secret. Their forms are varied, with a yellow eyed lupid glaring angrily beside a hominid magus, accompanied by four protectors.

scuttle scuttle scuttle

along the auras and minds of the Furry One and I do they go scuttle scuttle scuttle

Try my hunters. You will not find what you seek. My wings are wide and I bask in mine own glory. I radiate my self and repel that which enters the range of my mind and psyche. I glean tastes, touches, smells, glimpses of that which tries to touch me – inconsequential flakes of that which is my allies and my probers – just as I am certain they can do the same with me. They are aggravated with me for I am unsociable and rude to their mannerisms and in their contexts. I politely shirk such accusations away as I smile.

"What issss it that you have come for?" It croaks in their awkward speech. They are not knowledgeable of the truth. Strange. Why are they here. Never mind. That is not for the moment.

The furred man performs a rite or spell or act which I cannot name or understand. Silver spurts into the air. My allies cannot touch the furred man and his companions now”

"I ask again esteemed one, are you with us or against us, It might be good to know this soon, as you see another party has arrived, who I would guess are desireous of that which I believe may be on the basolith behind you. So, how say you?"

“Greetings, all that are present.” The silk of my voice, androgynous and mellifluous, caresses the ears of the observers.

The newly unrobed ones, hissing at the silver plume, now face my attention. “I know not what is for certain. These here seek a gauntlet and a blade to end the moon’s fall. Extinction is to be avoided. This is what is done to do so.”

To the furry man’s my strange eyes are locked.

“I am not certain of the item which is behind me, if it is al all.” I crane my neck at an angle I am told is impossible and observe the unnoticed object coldly. “Stone of ancient berth. It feels strange, newly old. An unknown quantity with an unknown aura.” I return to facing furred-man. “I am aware of the other’s presence. I am aware of your uncertainty and fear. I am aware of the dying moon. Allies and enemies are irrelevant. Survival is all. I will aid all within this maze, to preserve all without it.”

My eyes as dark as dead stars, I watch for a reply from the cloud of Others around me..

[Wamphyri]

Seeing and knowing silver, all but the canine show no fear. Hissing and barking unlike that of any known canine, its hackles raise at the sliver floating merrily in the air. Shaithis grinning back at the angelic being full of impurity through the cloud of silver.

The enlightened beings lock their minds from them, make it impossible for them to pry. This magic that is used, these skills must be theirs, when they find their chance, this is what shall be, the enthrallment of these two beings. Unafraid of them.

Shaithis body moves awrkawrdly for a few seconds as he seems to convulse, and yet take no step forwards nor backwards. Snapping out of his back emerge two incredible wings. Wide and high, yet tattered and torn in places, as if this was the design chosen for them as well as a few battle scars.

As they snapped out, his upper body lunged forward from the strength of their emergence. Zek takes a step behind him as do the gaurding Wamphyri warriors and Wamphyri wolf. At first he tenatively flaps them, as if for the first time. Then, the beats pick up pace, as if to start a wind. Quietly chanting to himself, a wind charges forwards as if from nowhere in particular. A wind of spine tingling chill, or a hair raising fear, a goose pimpling effect.

"UN nor de argint butuc meu patetic ,
mãreþ nouã this patimã ,
Pentru puternic is înãuntru our iarbã ,
A permite weaklings fail la spre oprire nouã ,
Petrecere ºmecherie unknown ,
ªi încã nothing la spre fear ,
A trimite un wind de rece ,
clar art.hot. liber peisaj ,
Gustare de dimineaþã gît this faþadã,
Împingere nouã towards viaþã patetic"

The cloud of silver begins blow away, creating a visibility yet again, the piercing yellow eyes staring through, more determined and far less detered than before. Little games of a tricker at parties, and it wears a suit of metal much like the fabled knight.

All fabled knights have eventually found an untimely end, this would perhaps be the case. Zek steps towards Shaithis, "An answer is sssought for which you ask of nothing in return? None would be here were it not for an ultimate gain.

Alliances made here mean nothiong beyond a dagger gently ssswaying behind each of one owns back. Deceit and treachery of an obvious kind. Take action, gain the prize and finish is the goal of all. You even prepare a death of those not known to you before you ssspeak. This ssshows a motive of all your own.

Threatening words unssspoken and unthought. Only minds like children tiptoe across minds for a feast of knowledge. Yet unsssaid, but you think us unpleasant. For whrn action is made, then judge. Unpleasant is irony o which befalls your own assumed judgements.

Sssshall we?" She gestures towards the be-gestured monument of stone. Fresh and ancient, curious scent upon the air dancing on buds of sweet and sour, salty and bitter buds. Not tantilising, but pugnant. Lowering her arm, her eyes pierce the impure angel whilst Shaithis stare burns into the back of the norn and companion. Each of the four remain alert, swords drawn.

Purple canine, which has now calmed, remains alert. It sniffs the staff within Zeks grasp once, and makes towards the monument, ignoring those around it, or perhaps performing an unspoken task.

[Kazumaru]

((Sorry for the slow response... got dragged out of the city for the weekend...))

Kazumaru rolled over and looked at the figure above him, his eyes adjusting to the light. "I'd really love to do the whole 'self-improvment' thing." he said, mildly annoyed "If I was still... Oh sweet Technico, you don't recognize me." A spark flew across his left eye. "Well, I shouldn't be too surprised. Do you have a first aid kit by any chance? My leg's kinda broken..."

[Panther385]

"HAH! Fat chance, Wamphyri. " Panther snarled as she went towards the monument also. "If anyone is to save the Dojo, it'd be the Evil Council. Not that we're nice or anything, we just know that if we do this, the entire Dojo and all its inhabitants will be in debt to us."

[alakin1]

"Fat chance to you too, Panther" growled Syui, pushing in front of her, "I'm not going to be in debt to you or any of the EC! It might get in the way of me ripping your innards out after this mess has been sorted out."

[TheEvilAngel]

Faat chance fat chance. So they spit insults and bile forrth and back. My allies have ended the Silver Storm, that hissing miasma of the metal of the moon.

Moon.
Like a slow blade she still pluunges, an angry hawk keening down on a helpless mmouse of aa world. Extinction and extinguuishment frrom a fabled bearer of cheese. So the moon will kiill us all.

“You are all incredibly stupid and know nothing at all.” MMy voice carries no venom, no anger. It remains only object and declarative. “Look uupward.”

My eyess serenely tturn skyward, something they have not done for so long. Without hunger or anger burning behind them it is strange to me. The moon is broader now. Closer. The sun –burning white brand of day and papain and cleansing- starts to lose the battle for visibilityy in the sky.Ane An eternityy off equilibrium shattered by a God’s boredom.

Though in reality oonly months have passed since the Insane God sculpted this space

The God. Arru’Mauri. I faaced himom once, then when he was a spirit and a roogue agennt of Fire. Whenhe he wass a part of the Council that invaded by chapeel and cathededralss of ccold stone and abyssal darkness. I recall it now. I loathhed such impunity aand stupidity and shoort-ssightedness then. II loathe it now.

“Do you all see the samme sight as my eyes have in their sphere? Do youu see where the moon plungess, itts tethers or order ccut and divororced from the slow ballet of grravity and motion? Do you seee where it intends to make a painful embracce of impactts and devasttation and nothii]hi[/i]ngness?”

I pause. The effect of it is like the silence that falls in the dark heart of an eclipse.

“I know you can. Yet why do you still see the egos and petty schemes of each other? I could care less if this world is worth saving. From such behaviours, I would find that there is little worth in doing so. I can always retreat to my world below and wait among its calcified spires, knowing full well that I would remain there untouched by the fatal rumblings above. Still I persist.”

Bold lie.
This cataclysm is not something one can escape from.
As above, so below.
Impact.
Rain of stone.
Rain of Dust.
Nothingness.

“This stone which you have noted, furred one.” I gesture to the one whose aura Shines like a diamond, and who is served by and serves angels. “What do you sense of it? Is it a door or a key?”

I can smell my allies’ willingness to betray me. Rancid meat and old tombs reeking. I note it and file it away within my bibliotheca of a mind. I have seen stars wither and die. They cannot harm me as easily as they think.
Besides, there is another enemy to contend with.

[Shine]

The canine moves forward, and as it moves into the space where the silver had hung suspended on the magical force field

remember

[Wamphyri]

((You would create a barrier that one could not pass, and so when we use a magic ancient only to ourselves, correctly using a language rarely spoken, you refuse to yeild as if to say you are more powerful than ourselves.

As undesired by others as we are, we still find it somewhat rude for you to blatantly ignore fair play and responding to anothers actions. For beings of peace and fairness, you show none. Perchance this persists in the future, we may find ourselves withdrawing. As carriers of a Dojodian Relic, perhaps you should consider the dojo's survival as well as this roleplay.

I shall explain what you failed to read as an understanding of basic prose. The wind in itself was conjured up by ourselves. A mere party trick one would say. But therein lies the slight of hand. The important factor is what was carried in the wind. This in itself was a spell. A spell of removal. We would have expected you to have had the intelligence to read this from our post, even without our language of ancient times.

Perchance your skills are not to be so revered by many after all.
We shall respond yet again, remember, all are here for fun, and all are to share an experience. Whether it be dark, or light. We shall not take kindly next time. Consider this, a warning, weakling.))

The canine, purple in colour, unpleasant in nature of both kinds, had reached the monument, speed and agility both strengths of all Wamphyri, a canine already having these natural abilities, maybe even more so. The cloud of silver rippled and moved towards the canine. Scents, odd odd scents rising from the monument confused both its masters and itself.

Unpeturbed by this weak magic of the small being enshrouded in a light of purity, and a soul clean and easy for all to see. Between the yellow eyed canine and the cloud of silver time begins to slow, almost becoming a block of time, frozen solid, unable to go back, unable to go forth, however, now it a block of the past, and not the present.

Zek and Shaithis both grin and sneer, perchance if the canine could, it would, however, it continues its business, inspecting the monument, unafraid of the angel with an impure soul, unafraid of the pair with a conscience. Zek looks on towards Panther, her abilities waken something inside her. An honourable kill in her prescence, a new technique to be learnt through arts of darkness, actions of pleasure and pain.

Speaking to only Panther's mind, harsh and tinged with darkness, ~Come young one. We have much to teach.~ She shares nothing but those few words. These words carry a hidden compulsion, an attempt to draw her to them. Zek's eyes watch her, coldly, calculating. He thoughts attempting to squirm through Panther's mind like a worm covered in spines of razor sharpness, wanting to know all about her.

Shaithis looks upon Alakin, even younger. Brash and impolite. He would soon find himself dead, and of no use. He would keep him in check. Nothing, from him, was there to offer, interest lies elsewhere. His wings slowly and quietly retract into him, snapping only to fold back into him. No pain crosses either his face nor mind. Only desires unspeakable and undescribable to mere mortals.

[Shine]

((Your "spell" was encanted in an unknown language, so how was I to know what it did and did not do. You posted that a wind blew the silver away, a wind brought about, one would suppose, by the spell, yes, and there was magic to it. That was obvious, but I had previously posted that should the silver be removed it would return to fill in any gaps that anyone would make. ?Who is to say that your magic is inherently stronger that mine? You say so, but that does not make it so. Your post is cryptic. Cryptic does not mean better, it means confusing. As far as I could read, you dealt with the silver, but to remove it permanently you should have dealt with the magic controling the silver. You feel that you did that, but I do not see that clearly stated in your post. I do not disregard your attempt, I just say that in my opinion, you did not deal with the right thing and the silver came back as it was designed to do. I can not deal with what you are intending, or what you think I should be smart enough to presume. I deal with what I see posted, and when you blew the silver away, it was something that I had anticipated and planned for and had a plausible response established. I feel you needed to deal with the sources of the magic and not the effect. I am sorry that you perceive this as a powerplay, I do not agree with you. I can think of ways to remove the silver or neutralize its effect, but what I could read in your post did not clearly indicate to me that you had done this, unless I presuppose your inherent superiority, and I don't choose to presuppose that. I prefer to game as equals, each trying to match wits with the other and have fun in the process.))

[Panther385]

~I know all I need to know to survive. That's good enough for me.~ Panther replied, with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. She shook her head, quickly, briefly, and bared her fangs at the creature. ~What are you trying to do?! My mind, thoughts, and past are my own, I tell no one but myself!~ She growled and backed away, trying to push her out of her mind by raising as many barriers as she could think of.