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 Posted: Thu Aug 16, 2007 7:24 pm
Deep in an underground cavern, embedded into the Northernmost wall there is a cathedral wrought from Onyx that sits nestled between the stony wall. A great steel portal stands twenty feet above the white polished stone of the large balcony that sits outside. The balcony overlooks a dark plain, what lays below is uncertain.
Access by permission only, or if you are given a Visiting Locket,
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Posted: Thu Aug 16, 2007 7:54 pm
The sound of ringing metal echoed throughout the cramped forge room. The Craftsman, shirtless, hammered at the hot piece of metal that lay before him on the massive anvil. He stopped hammering, seemingly content with the work, and dipped the orange-glowing blade into the water. The action was met with an angry hiss and tendrils of white steam.
The blade was flung back into the fire, and the Craftsman resumed his work on the simple longsword.
He made many weapons and tools when he was alone. Watching the metal shape itself was like watching a child come into the world. He could always see the personality of the metal, he could tell what it wanted him to do without a thought. He would hammer until he hit that right note, and the blade would sing and tell him that it was ready.
He lay the blade on a nearby table and scanned his humble shop. The walls were lined with an array of weaponry, all of it glinted maliciously in the fires from the huge round forge that sat squat in the far corner of the room. The Craftsman moved towards a particular weapon that had been set aside on the wall. Wordlessly he wrapped his hand around the simple hilt of the blade.
The pommel was a large Iron ball that served as a nice counterweight, and the hilt was wrought of a simple red wood, worn down smooth by the thousands of years that a hand had grasped it. There was a decorative Lion's head that made up the end of the handle. The lion stared serenely upwards, emotionless. Two simple crossguards flared out behind its ears. The scabbard was cracked black leather. The only decoration was the worn steel inlay that wove itself mechanically around the edges of the scabbard.
He grasped the scabbard in one hand, the handle in the other, and pulled. The blade cleared the hilt with the rasp of metal against leather and a deep ring that seemed to make the very air tingle.
The blade itself was a relatively simple affair. The blade was almost four feet long and about three inches wide. A simply blood channel ran up the entire length. The shape was unremarkable, save for one thing. The blade itself was wrought of the familiar white mirrored metal that was seen on so many of the weapons, however the actual blade was midnight black. There was no one else who could have wrought or even wielded such a weapon. The sword was constantly fighting against itself, it was almost impossible to control, but in his hands it combined the fortitude of white ore with the raw aggressive power of black ore.
He lifted the blade close to his face, the screams of those that the blade had slaughtered echoed from a great distance. He could still hear them, though. Thousands of humans. Perhaps hundreds of thousands.
Mythee was coming soon, he anxiously awaited her.
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Posted: Wed Aug 22, 2007 7:42 am
He drew his door in the blood of some random stranger anawaited for the Craftsman's answer. He knocked softly and in a coy voice he teasing asked for entrance to the other side.
"Oooh Craftsman, Oooh Big brother...please oh please let me in we have things to discuss, and questions to answer.." he laughed at the end of hsi statement on turning and sitting down against the door. His back to it he listened as there was a shrill scream from down the hallway as it seemed to echo throught the entire mountain.
Yet he needed the screams, he knew that much if he could train himself with the screams of the suffering. He looked up to the ceiling and tilted his head, his hand ran over his face, it went back to shaggy unkept black locks, and his eyes turned silver. His face smoothed out and all wrinkles that had been apparent vanished, his true face.
"I figure that it is only polite to show the one I call mt older brother my true face, lest I anger him.." he stood and started to brush some dirt off of him. "For who else do we have except for our familiy?" he asked himself as he knocked once more, and waited.
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Posted: Wed Aug 22, 2007 11:03 am
The Craftsman was lovingly polishing the pure white blade, admiring the thin black edge that traced the smooth and relatively simple weapon. He tested its balance as he waited impatiently for Mythee. Apparently his precognition had been incorrect today. There was a knock from the wall, the wall of all places, and the Craftsman turned to calmly greet the intruder's voice. He made a motion and the invading portal opened, he made another motion and the exile was pulled violently into the room by an invisible force.
"Hmmm." He said in answer to the Exile's statement, "Is it common for people to intrude upon their family's private residences without invitation? We are not family, you and I are without family. All of our kin are dead and gone." He slid his blade into it's sheath. "What is so important that it requires this intrusion? I warn you to choose your next words carefully, as I do not look kindly upon people who interfere where they are not wanted." His voice was cold and deep, his mouth almost impossible to see from behind his thick mustaches.
He stepped forward towards the exile. Irked at the disrespect that had been shown to him. He briefly considered releasing Karon on the boy, then decided against it. If he decided to kill this man then he wanted the satisfaction of sinking his blade into the intruder himself. He stopped just short of the exile.
"I haven't met you before." He said finally while looking the man up and down. "Ever." He finished, telling the exile that he hadn't seen him in the old world without saying it. "Out with it, what's your purpose here? Be quick."
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Posted: Wed Aug 22, 2007 9:09 pm
He looked at the man before him and narrowed his eyes. He was annoyed at the apparent tone of anger. He had asked nicely to gain entry into the Craftsman's home. He never wished to disturb him and if there was in any way an act of rudeness, it was the old one in front of him. He looked at the man as his body slouched. It would have been polite for him to stand to attention but the situation had changed so dramatically from his imagined way that he cared little about manners.
"I go to the trouble to show you my actual face, out of respect and this is how I am rewarded." he scoffed at the remark and turned, beginning to walk to the walls covered in blades.
"To think I wake up in this odd place, your voice ringing in my head. Was it not you or some force of your doing that has brought me here?" His hand ran up and down the wall avoiding the blades, not wishing to leave any fingerprints or marks.
His head turned to look at the man. "And was it not you who pulled me in here? Ironic how I am the one intruding on you, it seems that several events have happend to moi that seem to have happened without invitation, or my own consent..." his hand came to rest at his side and he looked back to his reflection in one of the blades.
"You are right. We are not family in any way, we are only that of acquitances. So they may be dead but what does that matter? I live and all that is matters now..." he put a foot on the wall and with an act that defied gravity, began to slowly walk up it between the blades.
"And you have seen me before, maybe under another face, but you have seen me, I am Khoui the face stealer, The shifter." He looked at the Craftsman with a cold gaze. "So, dear being, answer me this: the Prison Box, is one of us allowed to poses it?"
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Posted: Wed Aug 22, 2007 9:51 pm
The Craftsman watched the man strut about his forge arrogantly, his distaste growing with every passing moment. "I can see through your faces with ease, Khoui. I don't remember you from the old place, there might be some other anomaly to explain that. It doesn't concern me much. What concerns me is your apparent ability to enter into this place that I had designed so that only those who I granted access to could enter."
He stayed on the floor, walking calmly besides Khoui. He drew the four foot blade from its leather scabbard, twirling it expertly in his hand as he regarded the man coolly. "Don't act so hurt, Khoui, We all have our private areas where we seek only solitude. I find it disturbing that you can knock on my door at all, I find even that an intrusion. You'll find that I'm a very private person, and you are continuing to show an utter lack of humility in front of me."
His mustaches lifted for a moment, "You're obviously arrogant, but you're brave. I admire that. And you're practicing temperance, though you are offended by my actions. To answer your earlier question, I did not bring you here but had I not created this place you would be dead by now."
He reached up and grabbed Khoui by his leg and pulled him from the wall. "Stay away from my wares, if you please." He said as he placed him roughly on the floor. "Now to answer your earlier question, Yes, an exile could most likely possess the Prison Box."
He walked towards a door in the corner of the room. "Come, let us eat and drink as equals. We got off on the wrong foot." He said as he opened the door. Just on the other side was a large kitchen with an even larger wooden table set in the middle of it. Bread, Cheese, Meat, and Wine were all laid out neatly. He took a seat and offered a chair to Khoui.
"I should warn you, that the souls possessed in that box have been exposed to Chaos for a very long time. I suspect that if you know what the Box is then you certainly know about the laws of Chaos. They will be hard to control, a wild pack of savages that, if they escape without vessels to latch onto, will terrorize everyone and everything in this world. It will be a horrible nightmare." He placed the sword point against the rough stone floor of the kitchen and grinned. "So, tell me, what would you want with this artifact?"
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Posted: Wed Aug 22, 2007 10:22 pm
After being yanked from the wall he landed rather easily as he was not forced to the ground he was just moved. The invitation to eat like equals was what caught him surprised him, yet since they seemed to be moving in a direction of more civilized conversation he felt he woudl go along. The mans words rang out in his head, it was uncanny how they seemed to just echo through him.
"Do you know what I have been up to my friend?" he said as he waited for the Craftsman to take a seat, it would have been rude to sit before his host. "The box may only be found by one who is listening for it, one who listens for the screams of the tourtered, the sufferes" he turned to look at his hand as a face seemed to form in it. It was silent and its mouth curved and wavered as it if were screaming out in pain.
"Those screams are all that I have know for the past few days, and even without them constantly filling my head with thier music...I hear them" he whispered sharply. His hand moved and crushed the face in his palm forcing back inside of him. The thought of more things ran through his mind, vessels the empty dead faceless shells of the dead that littered his halls. They might just do, he may have his army. He would need many more bodies though, he was to have plenty not one sould was to be let free. A nightmare was all he did not want, it was just getting fun.
"I do not absorb the force from death, it is one force that I do not tamper with, a force so unpredictable so chaotic, no?" he said looking at the older one.
"As for the door, I am still just as curious as to how it opened the door way to you also" he paused and thought a moment. "I only thought you would be able to hear me as I hear you and thus seek out a meeting not pull me to you. hmm odd" as he enjoyed the aroma of food around him, diffrent from teh smell of rot and blood. He held back the question of another item he read about , best maybe till another time or best suited for another person.
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Posted: Thu Aug 23, 2007 8:25 am
The Craftsman looked at Khoui coolly and without emotion. He didn't say anything for several moments, his emotionless eyes just stared emptily in all directions at once. Finally, he leaned back in the chair, pulling a strip of meat from the array on the table and chewing thoughtfully.
"I have no doubt that you hear the screams of the suffering, however from the look of you it's not you who suffers with them. Go to the stone council, and leave yourself succeptable to its charms. When you are there beside them in mind then the box will most likely guide your way, or come for you itself."
He stopped, "I don't know exactly how the artifact works, I've only seen it once before."
There was a ringing from a small bell on his worktables in the other room. He glanced up sharply, then looked back at Khoui. "Apologies but you have to go. I've told you all I can." He said as he listened to the ring of the bell as it echoed throughout the hall. He lifted his hands and waved dismissively.
Khoui was forced violently upwards through miles of solid stone. The vague awareness of black chains beside him, ushering him rapidly upwards, was present until he stood in the middle of Amelia's forest, where everything was quiet.
Down in the forge, the Craftsman made sure to put in some safeguards so that what just happened could never happen again. Ever.
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Posted: Fri Aug 24, 2007 6:51 pm
Turn, turn, click. After she turned the small wheel, everything grayed, and a numbness came over her body- it took awhile before her new surroundings, which she recognized as the Craftsman’s forge, started to appear before her. The room was very dark- the enormous fire only deepened and accentuated the shadows in the room, making it somewhat ominous, what with the seemingly glowing blades scattered about on the walls. The Craftsman wasn’t there- doubtlessly he had just walked out. She felt his presence nearby, as well as that of another that she did not recognize. Odd, he doesn’t usually welcome visitors. When fully materialized, she opened and closed her armored fingers around the gold pendant experimentally, finding that feeling was returned to them much sooner than before. She was getting used to the odd manner of travel that the Craftsman used. It was uncomfortable at first, but much faster than running and leaping. Unlike most of the other Exiles, Mythee was not entirely fond of changing shape- the reason why escaped her memory, but the odd preference remained.
She whistled a calming signal as the elegant birds on her shoulders suddenly started to squawk and flap their wings frantically. It was a pair of Sorings, small stork-like things with the most interesting of plumage. Their feathers were white, shining with rich cyan and green iridescence, and their long wing and tail feathers faded into transparency, dotted by gray and dark blue. Their beaks were long, white and pointed, and their eyes were a deep wine red. They seemed almost a cross between a bird and a butterfly, delicate as they were.
She walked into the other room after briefly admiring the Craftsman's new works, and was surprised to find that the unknown guest's presence had completely vanished from the place. "Huh. Is this the right time?" She suddenly asked, seeing as her old friend was rather irritated at the moment. She knew his response, but said so anyways for the sake of humor. 
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Posted: Mon Aug 27, 2007 7:09 pm
To say that the Craftsman was agitated would have been to say that the ocean was damp. He had just been dealing with an exile who had intruded upon him but who he liked despite himself and had helped Roet by mentally delivering him the True Containers so that he could amass his own unnatural army.
He sighed heavily, seeking respite in the solitude when Mythee walked into the room. He almost started, but instead stood and spread his arms wide in greeting. Finally the one who he had been waiting for had come. He laughed heartily.
"You've managed to do something that nobody else ever has since we moved to this desolate rock. You surprised me!" He laughed out loud and motioned to the food on the table. "I'm glad that you came, though. It seems I've been dealing with nothing but undesirables ever since I came to my forge." He sighed. "I see that Heimdall is growing with rapidity. Very nice work. It will be nice to see how much tension is in the air as your borders continue to creep towards one another." He smiled with an airy glance at nothing.
He seemed to remember himself, and he shook his head. "I drone on like a fool. Come, there is food if you want it." He said casually motioning to the array of food. His long sword glittered brightly on the table top. Its four foot blade gleamed even under the low torchlight.
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Posted: Thu Aug 30, 2007 6:07 pm
Mythee grinned. "My, what an achievement. I must say I am proud. Now I'm going to brag about this to all of the other Exiles." She said as she wrapped her arms around him in a friendly embrace. When she released him, she was surprised to find that there had, in fact, been more than one unwanted visitor in the place.
"No kidding?" She answered him, furrowing her brow. "It surprises me that some people can actually get past your defenses. You are too lenient, my friend. But I see that you have reinforced them." When he spoke of her country, her expression instantly relaxed and she nodded in thanks. "Yes, I know. Heiman women are, how to say... surprisingly productive. You know what I mean?" (Nudge nudge, wink wink, said her face.)
She knew well that the Craftsman had occasionally questionable tastes- you wouldn't call it a hobby of war, exactly, but his almost looking forwards to it was clear. But Mythee was understanding- she only smiled, and added before heading for the table:
"Oh, food already? What a pity. I like to hear you droning on, it makes me feel privileged." She chuckled, removing her cloak so that it would not get in the way. The two fascinating birds flew off, then landed on her shoulders again.
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