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   Author  Topic: Prisoner in Tears (Open)  (Read 4573 times)
Silverwizard
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #80 on: 02/19/04 at 04:39:47 »
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"WAIT," Silverwizard yells, "FIRE, that is it. I did not see it, obvious, of course tongues of flame, water kills it, why did I not think of it."
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Mip
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  steven_huynh53   FlamingMoron69
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #81 on: 02/20/04 at 00:24:22 »
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The door, just like its predecessor, moaned loudly as it swung open for the adventurers.
 
The hallway behind it, though, was not even vaguely lit. It was pitch black except for the glowing runes at the end. The runes glowed a deep crimson and almost pulsated.
 
It can't be bought,  
It can be won.
It is much sought,
Sometimes a con.
 
And here is how the real you tell,  
It has a flame no cold can quell.  
Worth more than pearls and gems and wealth  
It's real even when you forget yourself.

 
((Shaoli, if you're reading this, same drill. XD PM me to have it removed!))
« Last Edit: 02/20/04 at 02:25:41 by Mip » IP Logged

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Silverwizard
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #82 on: 02/20/04 at 02:02:04 »
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Silverwizard looks at the riddle for a minute then he thinks for another, "Hmm, I am thinking 'fame' might be the word I seek."
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Silverwizard
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #83 on: 02/20/04 at 02:05:32 »
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"The flame leads me to think along the lines of 'Love'," the pacifist says back to Silverwizard.
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #84 on: 02/20/04 at 15:48:28 »
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Adrian’s lips curl into a smile as Zanith’s words have struck him as funny.  Before it can be stopped, Adrian lets out a soft chuckle. Then he quickly stifles the laugh.  “I am amazed at such arrogance and lack of utter truth. How can ye claim to be infinite?  Have ye truly fell prey to this self-delusion of yours?  Yes, ye currently hold the power of the weave captive and have achieved a form of godhood.  But ye have not considered one possibility.  Not many of the gods are truly eternal and self dependant.  In other words, the majority of the gods can be lost or forgotten and yes, they can even die.  So as for ye being infinite, do nae be so naive.”
 
As Adrian and Zanith continue to talk, Lokey continues to watch, but has shifted some of his attention to Squee.  He gently and soothingly talks with him in whispered tones so as to not allow Zanith to hear him.  “Tell me small one, what can ye tell me of this book that Zanith guards. We’re going to need your help.  Ye’ve the most experience with him and I fear he may be right.  Can ye read the book that they have spoken about?”
 
Adrian steps towards the window on the opposite wall and looks out as he continues to talk with Zanith.  “But ye did say something very intriguing.  Ye believe the weave to be the ‘Alpha and Omega?’  What idiocy gave ye that idea?  The weave is nae anything more than the stitch work which holds the fabric of the realms together.  It is nae the ultimate power.  Nor is it eternal.  I witnessed its birth and I have witnessed its destruction in some planes.  The mana stream is nothing more than a mystical energy and courses through all the planes and allows them to interact in some ways, yet remain separate, all fitting into place of the puzzle.”
 
“Much like the way people fit into a family.”  Adrian turns to Zanith and forces a memory to emerge.  Everyone watches as Zanith falls into somewhat of a trace and relives several memories of his time with his parents that were long forgotten, all relived as if they were happening now for him, but only a fraction of a second of time passes and Adrian turns his attention back out the window, allowing Zanith to recover.  “Ye see what I mean?  Just as ye are a part of the family your parents started, so the weave is to the planes, a part. But unlike ye, the weave holds things together, where ye have divided your family.  What would your parents think if I was to take ye back as ye are now to them as they were in that memory?  Would they continue to cradle the little child within their arms?  Or know that it spells disaster and try to prevent this day from ever coming?”
 
Adrian smirks at Zanith.  Without anyone’s knowledge the chess pieces have moved on their own, both sides have a strong defense, but it appears as if Adrian’s pieces currently have lodged in a hole in Zanith’s defenses and a weakness is now exposed.  The funny thing is, neither of them have been at the chess board to anyone’s recollection.
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  steven_huynh53   FlamingMoron69
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #85 on: 02/20/04 at 21:13:30 »
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Zanith just smiled as he continued to play his little game of chess.
 
"Heh...I should have known. It's no use arguing with the God of Truth. I can't win..."
 
Just then, however, the memories of Zanith's past flashed before his eyes. He quickly stood up, almost tumbling the stunning table to the ground. However, the images stopped soon enough and Zanith found himself sitting down, clearing his throat just a tad bit.
 
"Adrian, I'd advise you not to do that again. It would be a shame if this entire spire came tumbling to the ground. And I've yet to reinforce the foundation..." he said slyly as the spire began to tremble. Several blocks shook out of the walls and clattered to the ground. However, the tremors stopped soon enough and all was still again.
 
"...But worst of all, this game of ours would go unfinished...Check."
 
***

 
"...B-Book...? ...Book! No! B-Book! Hurt! I-I...c-can't! No! No! Book! No book! B-Book is...Book hurts! No! NO!" cried out Squee as his eyes shot open. He squirmed and struggled in Lokey's arms while beads of sweat traced strange patterns on his face. His tail whipped around violently and his eyes refused to blink.
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Mip
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  steven_huynh53   FlamingMoron69
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #86 on: 02/21/04 at 05:36:42 »
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The word "love" made the entire room illuminate itself from an unknown source. The light was warm and inviting. It made one feel calm and peaceful inside.
 
However, if one simply looked ahead instead of marvelling at the lights, one would see their holy grail.
 
The room was made of stone, just like all the other rooms in Zanith's spire. However, a single beam of light shone down from above. The light hit a golden alter placed in the direct centre of the room, giving the air around it a twinkling and mystic glow. Atop the alter, sat a book. Twas nothing special. The book was covered in leather and the spine looked almost as if it had only been opened once or twice.
 
To the touch, the book felt warm and strange. Almost as if something was entering the soul; tainting the soul.
 
Inside, the book was filled with countless runes. Impossible to translate, the runes simply laid upon their pages. They did not glow nor did they shimmer like their deceptive riddle-brothers. They simply were.
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dragon lordd
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #87 on: 02/21/04 at 05:51:31 »
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Draco stood, gathering himself after his little skirmish. He examined some of his more potent magiks and cirlced around behind Zanith. He knew he alone could not down the neo-god, but perhaps he could provide a distraction long enough for the others to finish... In case Zanith tired of his little game.
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Where all think alike, no one thinks very much.
Walter Lippmann (1889 - 1974)
Silverwizard
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #88 on: 02/21/04 at 18:50:24 »
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Silverwizard looks at the runes. He casts a spell to read languages trying and hoping to be able to decipher the runes. He sends a mental message to Trekkie who is still guarding the passage way that he has the book.
 
Trekkie looks at Draco and whispers, "If you have any knowledge of the book or the runes if you could please join Silverwizard down the throne's stair."
 
EDIT: (( oops sorry will move this to other forum))
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dragon lordd
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Re: Prisoner in Tears (Open)
« Reply #89 on: 02/22/04 at 17:52:09 »
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Tis a dead language... So I can offer little assistence, but to buy you some time. Get down there and help them... I shall watch your backs... That is if Zanith grows bored of his game and tries to finnish us off. He shant take me down without a fight.
*Draco grinned and wedged a few small crystals between his fingers, and twisted the gems on a few of his rings so they began to glow.*
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Where all think alike, no one thinks very much.
Walter Lippmann (1889 - 1974)
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