[Jonzey]

Name: Versaata Vahntiela Keltan
Age: 16
Group: Pureblood rebel
Aspect: Apprentice of Salis’nai, Ice. also has Nas'eln, Death, as a secondary aspect.
Appearance: Shabby, lean, short, black hair.
Personality: Obedient to the point of obsession, like many, but still obstinately independent at heart. Tends to be objective, always pushing her luck. Moody. Doesn’t trust anyone. Is loud and boisterous. Lies easily.
Strengths: Is cunningly intelligent, and has a witty sense of humour. May look skinny, but is lightning fast.
Weaknesses: Tends to speak before thinking sometimes, doesn’t know when to shut up. Is too arrogant for her own good. Impatient.

-----------------------------


[This message was edited by Jonzey on 04 July 2003 at 11:22 PM.]

[Lady Atheilen]

OOC: Now, if the comp freezes while I am trying to do this post, I shall become seriously pissed.

IC: "Well, if it isn't the little Faydian brat?"
Lairelle gasped. She knew that voice. She did her best to keep her own voice light as she responded.
"Sardes. You're moving up in the world. Soon, the Selind might just let you care for her dogs."
Master! she wailed in her mind. She didn't know if Daemon heard her, but if he did, he chose not to turn.
Sardes and a woman named Geselle Andis had been her guardians after her mother had died. As one of the High Bloodlines, Lairelle had not been outcast. She had had a place, although not a very high one. Until she was thirteen, she had lived at the palace as less than a slave, existing only to serve and to bear children of coveted Faydian blood.
Geselle and Sardes had raised her out of the goodness of their hearts. Lairelle had always wanted to know just what exactly was meant by goodness and hearts. Her own definition seemed to differ from theirs.
As a result of their tender upbringing, Lairelle had earned herself a not entirely undeserved reputation as a disobedient, lying, ungrateful thief.
Although, it seemed to her like they overreacted just a little. So she snuck out at night. So what?
Daemon had spared her that life. He had taken her away from Geselle's verbal abuse and Sardes' drunken cuffs, and made her into something of value, someone of status.
I'm probably the only person who ever really wanted a collar, thought Lairelle ruefully.
"Daemon Aturin seeks to leave the city," Sardes mused. "Why would he put you here?"
"It is not for me to question my Master's commands," said Lairelle, evading.
"Were you disobedient, Lairelle?"
She hadn't been, but there was no need for Sardes to know that. "Yes, my lord Sardes. I sought to leave when I was told to stay, and for that I must be punished."
Please let me play this right.
"Why does Daemon Aturin seek to leave the city?"
"To visit his sister, Queen Karisia."
"Rael Tele'men is also leaving the city."
Lairelle shrugged. "So?"
"So Telissin Raelia mentioned seeing you to someone loyal to the Selind. In the Core. What I want to know is, why were you both in the Core, at a time when so many are under suspicion? And why are your Masters leaving the city now? The Selind thinks that there is a plot against her life, and I think your Masters, and therefore you, are involved."
Well, he may be drunk, but he's not stupid. Lairelle did her best to look shocked. "A plot? Against our lady?"
"Yes."
"My lord Sardes, there must be some mistake. My Master is loyal to the Selind, as am I."
"What were you doing in the Core, then? And why did Daemon Aturin bring you here? Was he afraid for his dear irrith amin's safety?"
"He had a vision," Lairelle said. It was the truth. Lairelle had found, in situations like this, it was best to tell the truth as often as you could. Lies turned too complicated too fast.
"I disobeyed his orders," she clarified.
"And the Core?" he asked. Not even Sardes would be fool enough to trifle with the Aturin gift.
"I was angry at my Master, so I escaped because I knew he wouldn't like it." That was something her old guardian would believe, and had the advantage of being part of the truth.
I should have obeyed, I should have sworn, I should have.
"I believe you, Lairelle. Unfortunately, that is not enough." He took her arm. Lairelle thought he was going to lead her up into one of the cells, but he didn't.
He led her down.
Down past hell.
Down into the black dungeon, where dwelt those girls forsaken by their Masters and renounced.
If they could even be called girls anymore.
"We will see," said Sardes, and slammed the door.
Blackness.
Terrified screams.
Whimpers.
Blood.
Past hell indeed...
Lairelle heard another voice pleading near her. Looking around for a cell-mate, she realized that the girl lying on the straw was much too far gone to plead.
The voice was her own.
How long had she been there? Hours? Minutes? Years?
However long it was, she knew she wouldn't last.

There is no death in light

[Anomander]

I had originally wondered about the names of light, shadow and dark, but I don't think there should be need for change. If, like you say, it will not be over emphasized then I don't see a problem. In my opinion those three aspects are always linked because they in part created one another.

And so the First denied their Mother,
in their fury, and so were cast out,
doomed children of Mother Dark.

[Lady Atheilen]

OOC: Since whoever Brood wanted to post isn't responding...

IC: Mesaina Day dawned bright and clear. As she woke up, Lairelle found herself being infected with the good mood that pervaded the palace walls. She almost forgot her guilt of the night before.
She got dressed and raced down to the front room. Daemon was sitting, staring into space, deep in thought- again.
"Master, I'm going out, bye," she said.
He didn't so much as look up.
Anger flashed through Lairelle. "Fine, I'll just go to the Core and participate in a treasonous plot to overthrow the Selind. Obviously you won't care."
Daemon glanced at her sharply.
"Kidding, kidding."
"Please do not bother me this morning, Lairelle, I am working on something."
"It's Mesaina, which means I can bother you any time I bloody well want!" Her irritation was mounting. She didn't know why she was suddenly so angry with him, but her good mood of a moment before had completely evaporated. She made for the door.
"Lairelle Daemona Faydian," came his voice, soft but dangerous, "Come back here this instant or I will-"
She slammed the door.
Gods, but that felt good.
Hopefully Daskin would be there. They had been trying to set up a meeting for months, without success.

"All that breaks must be discarded, even as the thunder of faith returns ever fading echoes."-Anomandaris-Fisher Kel'Tath

[caladanbrood]

Daskin jumped up as soon as Lairelle had hurried out.
"Versaata, we must follow her. I did not expect this!"
"No. You've never been very good at judging things like that, have you." said a quiet voice from the corner.
Daskin whirled. He knew that voice, from days and nights of long familiarity.

Ailsa?

He was stunned. What was happening? He could see her. There, standing quiet and still in the corner of the room. He could see her. But... but she was dead. How could this happen.
They say you see the dead when you are dying.
The thought poppped into his head so suddenly that he knew it wasn't his. He looked around. Ailsa was everywhere. Wherever he looked he could see nothing else. The image of Lairelle.

Lairelle!

Where did she go, after she had run out? He knew know that it wasn't Ailsa staring at him, it was Lairelle. What is she going to do? Something awful, he knew.

Then she was gone. He was still in his shabby, nondescript rooms at Deamon's sister's palace. Now he thought about it, he couldn't understand why he had been given these rooms. A slight? As a sort of subtle revenge for spoiling Deamon's hopes for Versaata? Or something else?
He had been to the palace only once before. With Ailsa. He had been in these rooms. Or had she? He couldn't remember. They ended up in the same rooms anyway, so it made little difference. That was why he had heard Ailsa's voice. She had said the same words, he now remembered.
He had shown her a newly captured spy-demon. Gods knew why. He had let the demon come through to far. It had nearly burned down the wing of the palace. That was why the rooms were shabby. She had told him he couldnt judge how far to bring them. That he took to many risks.
So why had he seen Lairelle?
"Umm, Master? Vahntiel?"
He looked up. He was kneeling on the floor half way to the door. Versaata was standing over him, and Deamon was standing just inside the door. He tried to shake of his shock.
"Vahntiel? You call me by my name?" he shouted at Versaata, hoping she would understand. "Stupid girl! Fetch my reports, there must be more by now!"
As Versaata scurried out, she cast a quick glance at Deamon, maybe thinking what it would have been like to be his Irrith Amin, and not have to carry paper for Daskin all day.
He stood up properly, eyeing Deamon.
"If you will excuse me, I must go and discipline my Irrith Amin. If I were you, I would find yours before it its too late. She is up to something."
He strode past Deamon, head held high, and after Versaata.

*************
O xein angellein Lakedaimoniois hoti tede,
keimentha tois keinon rhemasi peithomenoi.
Unaligned - Obelisk - Friend of Asterisk.

[Lady Atheilen]

OOC: And yet another pointless character-abuse post!
Jesus Christ, I think I must have either sadistic or masochistic tendencies somewhere. I hope you can suffer through the lameness of this.
Although, since the plot isn't advancing in any other way...

IC: Callire, girl, pull yourself together!
She was Lairelle Daemona In'Aturin Faydian, daughter of Ailsaran, Lady Faydian, and servant of Prince Daemon of Erethal and Vesci, and she did not plead like an animal.
Yet.
Yet the curse of the dark cells haunted her, voices whispering to her, calling her to madness.
You failed your Master...
Worthless little slut...
Insolent...
Little fool, you thought you could be better, didn't you? Well, you can't. You'll never be anything other than a stupid little whore! Sardes' own special pet.
"STOP IT!" Lairelle screamed.
She had to get out of here. She had to, or she would go mad.
Master...by all the gods, help me!
The door to the cell opened.
Lairelle's heart leapt. Had he come for her?
But it was Sardes.
Lairelle crossed the cell, falling to her knees in front of him.
"Please, my lord Sardes, let me out. Please, I promise, I won't implicate you."
"What would you give me for it, girl?"
There was only one thing Sardes ever wanted of her.
Filthy little whore...
She took a deep breath. "Anything you want."
Master, forgive me. I have shamed you.
"Anything?" He wet his lips. He was so ugly, she thought.
Lairelle wept. "Yes!"
And then she gave herself to him.
He had always had to take her before, forcing every bit of what he had. Not this time. This time Lairelle offered herself, steeped in loathing.
She was a spy. She had done it before.
She had hoped never to do it again.
When he had finished, he turned his back on her.
"You said you would let me go free!" she said, a rising note of panic in her voice.
"Vahntiel Daskin's orders," he said, gloating.
Lairelle's screams followed him out.
Whore. Fool.
"NO!"
Yes.

There is no death in light

[Lady Atheilen]

Ok, let's get this started. Since we don't have very many characters, I give you permission to make up secondary ones (not for roleplaying though, and everyone can use them.) Like, SL, you may want an irrith amin.

I had permission from Anomander to use his character.

IC: Lairelle ate in silence, barely tasting anything. She fidgeted slightly, knowing Daemon would notice.
But if he did, he did not seem to care. He was staring out into space, seemingly deep in thought.
If he knew what I was doing tonight, he would bring me in chains before the Selind. Best not to think of that. She just wished she could tell him. She hated lying.
But she had no choice.
"Master?" she ventured once.
"What?" Daemon responded. "Not now, Lairelle, I'm busy."
It didn't look like he was doing anything, but as her instructors had reminded her often enough, it was not her place to question.
"I'm going out," he said after a while. "I'll be late, so you'll not have any lessons tonight. Please clean this up." He strode out their door without a backward glance.
Lairelle stared after him. Never once had he let her miss a teaching. What had gotten into that man?
This made her plan much easier, though. She cleared away the dishes, noticing that Daemon had eaten even less than she had, and then went up to her room to get her knife.
No one went into the Core unarmed after dark. No one from the palace usually went into the Core at all, but Lairelle was different.
Her hands were shaking, but she could not permit herself any nervousness. She stepped out into the cold night.

"All that breaks must be discarded, even as the thunder of faith returns ever fading echoes."-Anomandaris-Fisher Kel'Tath

[Apsalar]

Name: Telissin Raelia In'Tele'men Jarghin
Aspect: Daini'calren
Age: 15
Group: Unsure
Personality: Prefers indoors to out. Not exactly street-smart. May spend hours studying if left in her room. People find her hard to get along with and she tends to get very lonely. Very subservient to her Master.
Appearance: Pale complexion. A little below average height. Face conveys innocence.
Weapons: Carries only a small dagger.
Strengths: Very agile.
Weaknesses: A bit naïve and trusting.

* * *
None but a coward dares to boast that he has never known fear.
Ferdinand Foch (1851 - 1929)

[Anomander]

Deep in thought, Daemon was startled by his irrith amin's gentle voice.
"Master?" she ventured once.
"What?" he responded. "Not now, Lairelle, I'm busy."
Things come to a head tonight, and with any luck by this time tomorrow I will be one step closer to acheiving my goal....
Giving his instructions to Lairelle for the rest of the evening, Daemon walked out of the room into the dark corridor beyond, paying little heed of the people walking by him.
Preparations are now complete, and thus I must put my powers to the test. A demon of great power will be needed, and it shall be summoned on this night, the Eve of Mesaina.
After a few short minutes, Daemon reached the large, ornate doors to his temple, closing them with relative ease once inside.
Ascending the steps of the raised dias, he knelt down next to the alter and began the chant. A swirling, virulent globe began to form in a circle drawn at the base of the platform, wafting waves of sulfure to his nostrils. Ignoring the pungent odur, Daemon finished his chanting and turned, watching as a form began to materialize in the growing cloud smoke, seeing at first the beady red eyes, and finally the growing form of a body.
"Creature of fire, hear me! It was I who summoned you here, I who am in need of your service! Will you aid me or fight against me?"
In a slow, drawling voice the creature responded, "I bow to no one, and you sorceror are no exception."
Without further warning it attacked, spewing globs of molten fire at the hapeless mage. Narrowly avoiding the balls of fire, Daemon never the less landed in a painful heap at the base of the stairs. Rising he dusted himself off in time to be hit with a searing wall of heat. A scream pierced the air as he felt his clothes and skin beginning to sear. Rising a quick ward, the mage responded with his own punishment, a collar. He watched as it fastened itself to the demon's neck with a snap, and smiled inwardly at the feeling of control now coursing through his body.
"Never say never beast, for you are mine now."
With a snap of his finger, the creature disappeared, leaving him there all alone. Striking a quick pace, Daemon returned to his quarters with haste, and slipped in undetected.
"Damn," he muttered, "any closer and I would be a smouldering heap right now."
He changed slowly, fully examining his body for any damage he might have sustained. Once satisfied, he went to seek out Lairelle, feeling in need of her company.
The poor girl, I know this must be hard on her, and my being short with her earlier does not help matters. After all, she's a gentle soul, and I don't think she is capable of deception.

And so the First denied their Mother,
in their fury, and so were cast out,
doomed children of Mother Dark.

[Lady Atheilen]

The man never slept. Lairelle smiled as he turned to regard her.
"Vahntiel." It was hard to believe he was a half-demon, he looked so harmless. An illusion, she knew. His anger was a terrible thing. She had experienced the full force of it several times.
And she was likely to experience it tonight.
"Lairelle. What are you doing here? You should be in bed, or with your Master...or something. You're still weak."
Lairelle snorted. "You sound like Daemon."
"Do I? The bastard."
"He's not a bastard. He has been kind to me."
"Kinder than I ever was, is that what you mean?"
"Vahntiel..."
"Daemon never forced you...never used you...the way I did."
Lairelle laughed. "What do you think it means to be someone's 'servant,' Vahntiel?"
He was silent.
"Vahntiel, you never once told me to do something I did not do voluntarily." A lie, but one he needed.
"Never?"
"Never." She shuddered as she said it. She knew what he wanted of her, would ask of her, and wasn’t sure she was ready to give it.
He changed the subject. "I still have not heard from Sardes. I was going to ask him to look for Versaata."
Lairelle bit back a snarky remark about his continued idiocy in trusting Sardes with important tasks. Luckily, a problem she wasn’t going to have to deal with anymore.
“Sardes is dead,� she stated flatly.
Daskin stared at her in shock. “You must be mistaken, Lairelle. You have to be. He would have armed himself…�
“He was a fool and a monster. He got what he deserved. That is the end of it.�
She had thought hard about how to play this, and had decided on casual nonchalance, as befit a spy. Vahntiel was not overly fond of begging.
“How would you know about this?�
“I killed him. I should have done it years ago.�
He rounded on her. “Of all the stupid, traitorous acts you could have done…you KNEW of his use to me, child. Now you have lost me my best spy.�
no no please don’t hurt me… “Spymaster,� she said, her voice calm, “do you deny my claim to his blood?�
“By that same token, you have a claim on my blood as well,� he scoffed.
“Perhaps I do!�
Part of her wanted to cry. The other part was cool and unconcerned. Until Vahntiel advanced upon her, pinning her against a wall.
“Think very long and hard, Lady Faydian,� he said, eyes flashing menacingly, “before you act upon it.�
Lairelle cried out. “Don’t hurt me!�
Vahntiel let go of her. “Oh, Lairelle…Lairelle, I’m sorry, forgive me, I should have known better.�
Would he, Lairelle wondered, have done that for his own irrith amin?
“I return to Andorel Phai in the morning,� he said. “Will you come with me?�
I am a soldier, and this a war.
She did not want to return. She wanted to remain in the safe haven Daemon offered, where she didn’t have to worry about anything but her own healing. She wanted to be protected, taken care of, loved.
“Yes,� she told him.

-------------------------
The Poor Me Story- Autobiographical piece in which the male viewpoint character complains that he is ugly and can't get laid.

[caladanbrood]

Can i have Nas'decryn?
although ill have to read your stuff, which i still ahvn't got round to

*************
... ™
High Lord of the Triple Dots

[Lady Atheilen]

Lairelle changed into the dress she had bought for this occasion and went downstairs, heading for the great ballroom. She could hear the faint strains of music.
"Excuse me, m'lady?"
With a start, Lairelle realized the voice was addressing her. She turned, and realized it was the boy who had called out to Daemon earlier that day.
"Yes?" she asked.
"I-I saw you earlier today, and I wondered if you were all right."
She smiled at the young man, who looked to be about her own age, with dark hair and eyes. "It's a long story, but yes, I believe I am. I am all right..." she repeated, still not completely believing it. There will be no trial...no punishment, no chains, no torture, and, most importantly, no execution. She laughed gaily.
He looked at her quizzically. "Well...okay then." He made to move away.
"Wait," cried Lairelle. "What's your name?"
"Oh...Barent Asillen. Yours?"
He was of a Bloodline, too. Not so great as Lairelle's, but still... "Lairelle Faydian."
"I see. Well, will you dance, Lady Faydian?"
"I would be delighted, Lord Asillen."
They walked into the ballroom. As soon as she got there, Lairelle spotted Telis.
"Sister Lairelle," said the girl, using the outdated custom of referring to her fellow irrith amin as a sister. Lairelle had always hated this, and Telis knew it.
"Excuse me a minute," she said to her companion, and turned to Telis.
"Sister Telissin!" said Lairelle, faking her delight. As happened so often, the dislike between their two Masters had spread to their irrith amin, and Telis was not one of Lairelle's favourite people.
"Joyful Mesaina to you, sister," said Telis.
"And to you, sister," replied Lairelle, spitting out the last word.
"I've not seen you in so long," began Telis, "and I was wondering what you'd been up to."
"Oh, you know, the usual. Been keeping busy. You probably have just missed me, that's all." Like last night, sister.
"My Master sends his regards to you," Telis said with a smile of contempt.
"That is very kind of him." What game is Tele'men playing? This one would never have the spunk to approach me on her own.
"Well, I'd best be off," said Telis. "Joyful Mesaina."
"Joyful Mesaina," Lairelle echoed.
Barent Asillen came up to her. "Still want that dance?"
"Oh...of course," said Lairelle. She let him lead her around the floor, trying not to worry.

OOC: Sorry if you consider that an improper use of character, SL. And no, I have no plans of turning this into a cheesy romance.

"All that breaks must be discarded, even as the thunder of faith returns ever fading echoes."-Anomandaris-Fisher Kel'Tath

[caladanbrood]

Daskin wandered down to his favorite tavern. He was felling good. His meeting last night had been enjoyable, in a way, and very informative. He was sure that he had managed to scare Rael off for a little longer. He hoped that Lairelle would be there this time.
Most Masters, he knew, felt lonely and depressed on Mesaina, but not Vahntiel Daskin. No. Irrith Amin may be allowed to do whatever they wanted, but spies never rest, not even when they were Irrith Amin themselves.
Content and looking forward to the next day, he strode in to the bar, and ordered a drink.
Ahh, time to work...

*************
"Blessed by the peacemakers."
Hmm, and I thought it was "God bless Dubya"
Oh well...

[Calot]

quote:

---

Originally posted by Fortrip:
my comp wont let me download some stories

---

That may be bacause the moderation's not completely up do date. I'm working on it.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
Well, What Can I Say?
Nothing like smell of a BFG in the morning...
The Eternally Wise Calto, High Lord of One-Liners

[Lady Atheilen]

OOC: Thought you were a loyalist SL? :S

"All that breaks must be discarded, even as the thunder of faith returns ever fading echoes."-Anomandaris-Fisher Kel'Tath