i got the 200th post!! hehe

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666. The number of the beast. 665. The neighbor of the beast. 673. Lives down the street from the beast.
THE SKY IS FALLING! THE SKY IS FALL- SPLAT!
Guns dont kill people... o wait, they do.

(NSP: Good for you Mr. Happy. Now I best finish my tiny little part to keep this thread up so in the slim chance that nobody posts before I finish my graduation-hoopla after Tuesday (snickering in the background), it'll still be up here for me to help out. Yeah yeah, I shouldn't be talking. Anywhos, here it is.)

Space Orca was preparing to gather the allies he would need to unravel his plans involving the battling Forces. It would be hard to locate the remaining dragons left in this world. He even had his doubts as to whether they all had left in the times of Bazaal. He was cofident though in his instincts that a few remained.

In the forest that Space Orca was contimplating his plans within, he began to hear voices. Immediately he stood up and held his blade out in a defensive position. He couldn't tell what the voices were saying at first, but after a few moments, they began to form words. The voices were simply getting his attention, repeating "Orca, call to us". Naturally, as the voices appeared to be non-threatining, Orca resonded to them, saying "I am here. Who am I speaking to?"

"We are messangers from the order of Nature," the voices responded. "We come with an urgent request that you go immediately to the rift in the center of the continent where your people fled after the times of Bazaal."

"They weren't my people," Orca grumbled. In a clearer voice, he continued, " I'm sorry, but I have other matters to attend to. If you will pardon me--"

"PLEASE!" the voices cried, "You're our only hope for the cause of Nature. The order of Nature could easily make your journeys elsewhere difficult at the least, but they'd rather you go willingly."

Space Orca looked suspiciously around, trying to find the voices, and knowing that it would be futile, such as the forces of nature were a stealthy kind.

"I will go," Orca said, "but mind you that I am not getting involved in this upcoming battle between the Powers. You understand? I'm not wasting my time and effort for the benefit of Nature afterwards."

"We understand," the voices said, and began to dissapate into the ambient noises of the forest. Space Orca was serious when he told them he would not spend any effort towards their benefit, and therefore began to walk on his own power, leaving behind the power of Nature tocarry him through air or it's swiftness by foot.

(NSP: I only have him walking so that he arrives at hte place at the same times at the others. Of course, if he's on a different continent, well, I suppose he could ignore the last part Anywhos, feel free to go into some inner/mental talking within your character, Orca. And for the rest of you, post while I'm gone hehe)

------------------
~Geb

(Note: The scene I'm about to construct will hopefully be satisfactory for whatever you guys had in mind for it, bearing in mind just about all of you will visit there sooner rather than later.)

Kronaemix and Semievil left the portal, which shimmered out of existence with an actnic glare.

Feeling more than slightly disoriented, Kronaemix turned-

And gasped.

They were standing on the edge of a massive volcano crater. Beneath them, white-hot liquid magma stirred and bubbled ominously, while above them the gigantic enclosed chamber stood, complete with intricate natural walkways, stalactites and stalagmites, in a magnificent display of esoteric beauty.

Semievil stood next to him, brushing off his skull-staff and muttering.

"Master Judge, why are we here?"

Semievil considered for a moment.

"I suppose I can tell you now. Kronaemix, an H-sighting is when we receive word of an Immortal Force breaking or violating the Codes of Conduct and Rules of Engagement set by the Tome of Justice. We must investigate."

"What was reported?"

Semievil shot him a worried glance. "You'll know if you see them..."

Them-?

For a while, Kronaemix stood motionless, as Semievil occupied himself with the cavern. Then, he turned to the Judge.

"Judge, in an H-sighting..."

"Yes?"

"...what does the H stand for?"

Semievil shrugged. "I don't make these things up-"

Then suddenly, he snatched his staff up and threw it straight at Kronaemix.

The angel recoiled, struggling to dodge-

The skull-cap scraped past Kronaemix's shoulder, flying beyond him. All of a sudden, there was a ghastly squeal, and a splash of warmth on Kronaemix's back.

He spun. A mass of gore lay on the floor in front of him-

And behind that was a sight that frightened even Kronaemix.

Nightmarish black animals-creatures, dozens upon dozens of them-with large pincer jaws, ferocious claws and spiny black armoured skin, stared viciously at Semievil and Kronaemix.

Or at least, they would stare, if they had eyes. Neither Semievil nor Kronaemix could see any on them.

Semievil extended his hand, and the staff flew back into his hand as the snap-hiss of Kronaemix's ignited lightsaber echoed through the cavern. They backed up to the lip of the crater, each sparing a quick glance at the certain death below.

Then, they both tensed as the fearsome beasts, uttering a primal screech, advanced on them....

Ok some of you know me as voodoosnowflakes, I have Merlin to thank for introducing me to things like this.

Ok still attempting to figure out just how to introduce Krystal....

[This message has been edited by Krystal (edited May 26, 2001).]

Ima dummy and double posted

[This message has been edited by Krystal (edited May 21, 2001).]

NSP: Sure Krystal, we always appreciate new writers. And your character definately sounds like it could be aligned with Nature (Nature is best for non-divine believer characters as Nature is most rooted with "reality") If you decide-decide (how technical I'm getting now) to join, e-mail me (it's available) and I'll send you the immediate plans we have for the story. And I tried to e-mail you, Shadowlord, but when I sent it via reply, it came back saying the address didn't work. If you want, I can post what I was going to e-mail you here on the boards. Hope you decide to continue And for both, I highly suggest reading the previous two stories found in the Interactive Story Board's archives (Saga of the 3rd War and The Shadows of Darkness) to get a feel of what kind of story it has been.

~Geb

If anyone wishes to email me try this one: heyuover@yahoo.com

I dunno why it doesnt work but u can just say it on here.

NSP: OK, sorry about that. I'm not sure why the e-mail thing didn't work, but anyways, I jsut basically wanted to tell you Shadowlord that your idea I think is a little too extreme, even for some of our more liberal writers who I consider to powerplay such as Nature Palidin. I would suggest that if you have the slightest doubt in my opinion that you should send your ideas to the other writers to see what they have to say about it. I really hope you will think of some other good character ideas for teh side of evil, and I'm sure if you have trouble, any of us, myself included, would be glad to give you ideas. When we get that all straightened out, I'll try to e-mail you again the immediate plans for the story. And I have to talk to some of the base writers (synonymous with "old", hehe) such as Orca, Krig and Semievil (he's directly involved b/c of his character) about what I just read in an old post of SoD. Meanwhile, Krystal, feel free to introduce your character--it sounds good to me. In fact, if you want to write it as part of the first part of Stanin, Saatch, Noddo, and Amry's journey to the rift, by all means do so. None of us (including myself) seem to want to do so (and it does kind of need at leasta small journey--a few posts or something). I'll e-mail you the immediate plans. Until then, all of you talk to all the other writers as possible to exchange ideas and so on.

~Geb

Jirverak grew fustrated as he felt he was making little progress. It had been what seemed hours after last seeing the short man called Krig, and he still had not found the stairs to the next level. Just a lot of doors. Locked doors. And each key guarded by those stone knights Jirverak began to dislike so much. "What kind of castle was this place?" Jirverak thought. "What purpose was there to it all?"

Having just defeated another stone knight, he took the key and walked up to the locked door, praying that it was his last. Jirverak unlocked the door and opened it to find, to his delight, a set of stairs. At last, he would be free of this floor with keys to locked doors. "And no more of those wierd scribblings on the walls either" Jirverak thought, as he ascended the stairs.

As he finished running up the flight of stairs, Jirverak looked around to find the new floor, which looked far less structured and dreary than where he had been. The walls were colorful and curved, and the whole place seemed to give the impression that it was...reborn. Jirverak pondered for a mement why he felt this way, then shrugged it off and moved on.

Jirverak soon found that the floor was hard to walk on though. It moved randomly, as if the floor was made of a gellatine substance. Struggling to simply walk, Jirverak soon wished that he was back where he was, where the floors were stable and the colors of the floor didn't confuse him. He then looked up to see slug-like worms, somewhat blending with the colors, slowly advancing towards him.

"I hate worms," Jirverak muttered, and prepared to defend himself.
-----------------------------------------
"You know," Amry said, "it's been so long since I've just walked with the warm sun and the shade of the trees. It's one of the few things I love,"

"I don't like it at all," Noddo said. "All this walking kills my feet."

"You lack stamina, young one," Saatch said. Despite his advanced age, he seemed to be keeping pace with hsi walking stick.

"We still have a while to go before we reach the Rift," Stanin said.

"What fun," Noddo muttered.

"Maybe I should have let you fall in that pit of spikes," Jim said. "All your complaining won't help you. I remember in the Years of Darkness. Those people walked from shore to shore in days..."

"Watch out!" Stanin yelled. He immediately ignited his blade of pure magic and swung at swung to deflect the magic beam.

"What the hell was that?" Amry asked.

The five looked over where the magic beam had originated. The sight of the source stunned the mortals in the group.

(NSP: I leave it to the others to decide what it may be, so be creative)

------------------
~Geb

An explosion of white spray broke the glassy stillness of the small, inky black pool of water, causing waves to lap at the rocky shore as if trying to escape. The dark water tossed and churned as something thrashed about in the middle of the pool. Slowly, the thrashing figure made its way to the shallow edges of the pool and pulled itself out, collapsing half out of the water.

After a few moments, Krig rolled his sopping body over onto his back and sat up. Grumbling things that might have been words, he unclasped his cloak and let flop to the smooth stone floor by the pool, the weight of the water it held causing it to hit the ground like a rock. Krig began to wring out his clothing and beard, shaking the water from his hands afterwards.

Krig retrieved his horned helmet from the shallows and tipped the water out of it, looking around to get his bearings. He seemed to be in a cave of some kind. Directly above the small pool was a hole in the rock ceiling through which a weak trickle of light, apparently the cavern's only light source, filtered in. The cave was damp, breathing the air was almost like breathing water. Around the pool grew various plants, mostly big leafy fern-like plants of a type Krig had not seen before. In the distance, drops of water echoed throughout the cave.

Krig slid the damp helmet over his scraggly wet hair. He picked up his cloak, rang the water out of it, and flipped it around his back once more. Hefting his axe, he stumped into the ferns, leaving a trail of drips behind him.

After almost an hour of hacking his way through the dense foliage, Krig found himself finding the surrounding area familiar. He must have been this way before. Krig let a sigh of frustration rustle his beard, and threw his axe to the stone floor. This whole place was unnerving him, it wasn't natural for such thick foliage to grow with no light and no soil. The damp air was beginning to feel strangling in its oppressive warmth. Krig began to bend to sit down, when he suddenly stopped dead. Something had moved, and it wasn't him.

Krig stayed in the awkward, half bent position, listening as hard as he could. Behind him, he heard the noise again, a deep rumble like a growl and a rustle. It was getting closer. In a sudden burst of action, Krig threw himself to the ground, just as something reptilian and frighteningly fast flashed through the space he'd just occupied. Krig came to his feet in a roll, holding his axe at the ready.

(Ooh, a suspenseful ending. That's all I'm gonna write for now, be thankful for what little it is.)

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"The wicked flee when no man pursueth" --Proverbs 28:1

Semievil smiled quazi-sadistically as he watched the drake toy with Krig. Sometimes working within the bounds of the rules was more fun than breaking them. Krig actually took very little modification (so little Krig hadn't noticed) to make him smell like raw meat. The silver-gold scaled beast flattened Krig easily, but was no match once Krig recovered himself. Other predators would come however, and quickly. For now, Krig could enjoy his triumph.

Meanwhile

Kronaemix looked around, surrounded by inky darkness, rushing in to within a few feet of his lightsaber. "Judge?" He said nervously. Suddenly Sem was back at his side.

"Don't worry about these things" Sem said. Kronaemix watched, horrified as Sem tore each of the dark creatures to bits, slowly, amid screams of tortured anguish.

It's not the creatures I'm worried about... thought Kronaemix nervously.

------------------
The early bird may get the worm-
but it's the second mouse who gets the cheeze.

Omnia quae specto dominavi, et tantam magnus sum, ut non specto!

Kronaemix put away his lightsaber slowly, never taking his eyes of Judge Semievil. His Master seemed to be enjoying battle's thrall.

"What were they?"

"I don't know." Thoughtfully, Semievil prodded one of the corpses with his skull-capped staff. "Someone could have sent them after us. Or..."

"Or?"

"Or we just stepped into a trap someone set."

"Too bad for them." Kronaemix changed tack. "Master Judge, what are we doing here?"

The Judge turned to him, acknowledged the question with a nod, then beckoned for Kronaemix to follow him. The two started across one of the natural walkways directly over the magma pit. Kronaemix glanced over the narrow bridge, cautiously. Semievil paid no heed.

"We're here to watch, Kronaemix, and also to participate. Very soon, many great warriors and participants in this War will visit this chamber, and it is to become a focal point for several important battles."

"Such as what, Judge?"

"In time, that will be revealed. For now, all you need to know is this-"

And with that, Semievil turned and swung his skull-staff at Kronaemix's head. The move was completely unexpected, and Kronaemix staggered backwards a few steps, before falling to the narrow stone floor. The bridge groaned ominously at this.

"Judge, what are you-"

Semievil leaped at Kronaemix again, and this time, the angel sprang to his feet, sidestepping the thrust and pushing the Judge past him, clearing his lightsaber in one move.

Semievil turned to face the bewildered Kronaemix, eyes gleaming. "Excellent! You are indeed ready for this test, Kronaemix, but are you strong enough to pass it?"

The staff whistled through the air again, and clashed with Kronaemix's lightsaber, glowing as it bounced against the beam weapon. Kronaemix grimaced, then spared a final glance at the magma pit before meeting the Judge's skilled strike...

(NSP: Pardon if this is less than coherent: I'm typing this at o'dark-thirty, why I don't know. So unless it's just downright horrible, just smile and nod It's just a little something I hadn't gotten into for a while.)

(Don't worry now, I'm not going to post. Not for the story anywhos. I'll edit this later and do it, or just post seperately. Consider this a B.U.M.P. or something of the sorts. So you know, I was just going to do a short thing on Diaszu starting to travel towards the rift--his thoughts and reflections and such. Hopefully someone will post before I do though.)

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~Geb

" to stream, to stream"

The next sparrow sings "Krystal look like, look like"

"go to stream, to stream."

Krystal had heard the two sparrows chirping away wile she was gathering some herbs that only seemed to grow at this time of year.

"Haven't paid attention to those two for awhile, sounds like there may be some people nearby. If it's a group of hunters I'll!..." Krystal being somewhat by herself in the forest has made talking to herself a habit.

Krystal goes back to her little home near a dead tree. She gathers a few things up including her flute, bow and quiver full of arrows. She talks to her bow,
" Hope I don't have to actually use you. "

It didn't take much effort to find where they had been. A trail of broken branches and disturbed plants on the forest floor. Kyrstal thought she could even smell them.

Suddenly the shot of magical energy Stanin had deflected flew right past Krystal's head. She found them alright.
"Look's like I need you" she was talking to the bow again.

(and now I run out of creative power at this hour)

Hullo! anybody there?

has story died?

(NSP: I sure hope not. I myself plan to write a rough draft of a real long post-thingy and hope to put it up soon. I hear Highemp and Darklancer will both be busy, so they might not be able to post as much as before, I dunno. I'll try not to keep you all waiting too long)

~Geb

(NSP to TLTE: Where are you going w/ Sem and Kron? I don't think it's the same place I'm going, and I'd like to get our ideas going the same way. Drop me an e-mail at: robisonpatrick@netscape.net
if you find time. That goes for the rest of you all too if you have any ideas for Sem's character.

------------------
The early bird may get the worm-
but it's the second mouse who gets the cheeze.

Omnia quae specto dominavi, et tantam magnus sum, ut non specto!

(NSP: Yeees, communication is good between all of us. E-mail is a powerful ally, hehehe. Er...guess this is a rather short post, eh? But I haven't finished the rough draft yet. But I will, soon, yes, sooon...Mwahahahaha.)

~Geb

Until that time, me and Geb are just going to play volley-ball w/ the story, keeping it in the top few days, hoping to guilt some of you guys into posting =D

------------------
The early bird may get the worm-
but it's the second mouse who gets the cheeze.

Omnia quae specto dominavi, et tantam magnus sum, ut non specto!

Krig wiped the steaming hot blood off of his axe onto the thick nearby grass. The drake lay in a slightly twitching pile of scales and ripped flesh nearby, several of its extremities seperated from its body. The battle had been short but furious.

Krig examined the blade of his axe, puffing in annoyance. One of the double-sided axe's blades sported a rather large nick in it now, a result of the creature's tough, scaly hide. Rubbing the nick with his thumb, Krig slid the axe back into his belt. Krig also sported several cuts and scrapes on his back and arms, but those would heal. His axe wouldn't.

Nudging the putrid pile of flesh with his foot one last time, Krig set out into the dark, wild undergrowth once more. The smothering humidity, forgotten in the heat of battle, returned once more.

After only a few minutes of pushing his way through the dripping foliage, Krig stumbled to his knees over something hidden in the thick grass. A reddish gleam catching his eye, he pulled the grass away from the object he'd tripped over. It was a large red gem, almost three inches in diameter, and surprisingly untouched by moss or mildew. It looked out of place in the dark greenery of this musty cave, and when Krig didn't look directly at it, it seemed to glow slightly. Krig picked it up and put it in his pocket, promtly forgetting about it.

Krig stood to his feet, glanced around momentarily for danger, then continued smashing his way through the underbrush.

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The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he wasn't real.

**Note: the following post is a joint venture between Gebohq and I. Mostly Gebohq.**

The monstrous being that stood before Stanin,
Noddo, Amry, and Saatch made no other immediate attack on them after having shot its beam of white magic. The four stared at the monster, just as immobile as the monster itself. It looked like a creature of death, an undead, but the being seemed to be much more imposing than what any of them had been told an undead would be. This monster, for one, wasn't nearly as decayed as it should have been, as if the dead parts were left that way for more pragmatic reasons. It was also incredibly tall and appeared as if it should have commanded an army of undead. The monster's eyes were the worst though, empty sockets swirling with hate -- that was what kept the four petrified as they couldn't help but fear for their lives.

"Would someone tell me what the hell that thing is!" Amry demanded.

"I think it's a Daemon Lord," Noddo said in a rather hushed voice. "I thought those things were just tall tales made to make the heroes from the Years of Darkness sound good."

"Why isn't it doing anything...?" Stanin said to himself.

"It looks most unusual for an undead creature," Saatch stated.

"And how would you know?" Amry asked.

"Well, for example, an undead creature should look more dead than alive," Jim interjected. Jim seemed to be the only one not fixated on the sight of the Daemon Lord. "That thing was a Daemon Lord, from the Years of Darkness. I think this one has somehow melded with a dark cleric."

"Excuse me," Amry said to Jim, "but 'melded'?
Wouldn't it just be better then if--"

"Why is it staring at you?" Stanin suddenly asked Jim.

"It's not often, even for undead, to see an...angel..." Jim said, as he began to study the Daemon Lord. Just then, the dark creature began to summon a whiteness around its upraised hand.

"You actually think you can take me down, eh?" Jim asked it. "Messing with an angel, honestly..." he began to say as he advanced toward the Daemon Lord. Jim reached to his side as if to pull out a weapon, only to realize he had none. He looked down in obvious confusion, then looked up to see the Daemon Lord's hand throw the swirling whiteness toward Jim in the form of a beam, which slammed into his upper thigh.

Jim grabbed his leg as he fell over on one knee. He then fell completely as the other leg gave, and then his body and arms started to slump in the same fashion. Jim grumbled about the "stupid twisted uses of white magic" and "paralysis is such a pain"
before becoming completely immobile. The Daemon Lord then cocked his head toward the four.

Stanin lifted his saber of pure magic and prepared himself to attack when the Daemon Lord flicked something like white dust towards Stanin. As it had caught Jim unprepared, so did the new attack catch Stanin in the same manner. The dust gravitated towards Stanin's eyes, and Stanin held his blade in front of him for several seconds, unmoving.

"I can't see anymore," Stanin said in a low, calm voice to the other three. "I don't want to risk hitting any of you."

The Daemon Lord then began advancing toward the three, closing in to an arm's length away. Saatch looked over at Noddo and Amry, who returned looks of confusion and fear. Amry had never wanted to run away more in her life, but she seemed to be rooted to the ground in fear. The Daemon Lord raised a clawed hand to strike -- just as an arrow flew out of nowhere and pierced its head!

Annoyed, the Daemon Lord turned to see a small female figure, with a bow and arrow in her hands, already drawing a second arrow from her quiver. Losing interest in the three, the Daemon Lord turned and began to stalk towards the new person, with a cat-like fluidness that seemed out of place in an undead creature.

"NO!" Amry shouted at the Daemon Lord, as if it would listen. When she had thrown her arms out to say that, however, the Daemon Lord halted in mid-stride. The Daemon Lord attempted to continue walking again, only to find itself rooted to the spot it was on. Its feet dug deep trenches in the earth, but it seemed held in place by an invisible force. Both Amry and Noddo were now more confused than they had been before.

"Get Stanin's blade and cut its head off," Saatch commanded briskly. As Noddo realized that Saatch was giving him a game plan and headed towards Stanin, Amry ran towards the new female, skirting the undead beast. The Daemon Lord, now enraged at its immobility, held one hand up above its head, and with the other hand seemed to scoop the whiteness that emanated from its body into the hand held high.

"You should get lost, girl," Amry told the
stranger as she came close. "Don't get involved and hurt yourself in our own problems."

"Sorry, can't do that now," the stranger said, nocking another arrow. As the white energy ball was growing larger in the Daemon Lord's hand, and it appeared to be ready to throw it at Amry and the newcomer, the stranger shot the arrow. Amry watched intently as the arrow whizzed towards the Daemon Lord's hand. As Amry looked on, the arrow suddenly sparkled, and when it made contact with the Daemon Lord's hand, the arrow severed the hand from the arm. The hand, with the white magic still held to it, flew backwards, away from the mysterious archer, hitting a tree and exploding in a flash of white light, ripping a large chunk of the tree's trunk away.

The Daemon Lord gazed at where its hand had been, and then shot a cold stare at Amry and the new person. Before it could do any more, Stanin's blade sliced down from behind on the Daemon Lord from shoulder to hip. The top half of the torso slowly slid away, revealing Noddo holding Stanin's sword. He quickly reversed his direction and chopped off the beastly head before the torso could even hit the ground. Not content with a decapitation, Noddo continued to hack at the torso on the ground. The legs took a few steps, and fell over. Both Jim the angel and Stanin recovered suddenly from their afflictions.

"So who might you be, young lady?" Saatch asked the newcomer, making his way towards her. Digging her foot into the ground and looking down, she said with a low voice "I'm Krystal. I uh...live in these woods, and um...saw you guys were in a bit of a situation."

Noddo finished hacking at the remains of the Daemon Lord and glanced up at Krystal as she spoke. His mouth slowly opened and hung limp, as if he was trying to say something but had forgotten to speak. When she finished talking, he dropped Stanin's blade on the ground and marched over to her, offering her his hand.

"I'm Noddo, Miss," he said. "And I'm eternally delighted to be fortunate enough to set eyes on such a fair lady as yourself." Amry rolled her eyes, and Krystal, hesitatingly, extended her own arm. Noddo caught her hand and kissed it, which immediately caught Amry's attention. If Noddo had been looking, he would have noticed that Amry's glare was not unlike the one the Daemon Lord had given her.

"Thank you for helping us," Stanin was saying to Krystal, "but we all must really be going now. If you wish to join us, I don't think anyone would have any objections." Amry bit her lip from screaming at Stanin and strangling him right there.

After looking over the group, and at Noddo in
two or three times, Krystal said "Sure, why not?"

Amry was beginning to seriously resent ever having bothered to chase Noddo down for the money he owed her back when she was a prostitute.


------------------
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he wasn't real.

I'd really love to post on this but I can't find the time to read everything up to here, when will you start a new one?

------------------
I created the most popular toilet 3do ever!
http://files.massassi.net/3do/toilet2.zip

NSP: Pengun: If we do start another story right after finishing this one, I would imagine that it would still be some time before the new one started (looking at this most optomistically, the shortest time for this story to end would be the end of the summer). More realistically (and as it has happened to do so for the past 2 stories) this one will probabbly be finished at the end of this year/beginning of next year.

I would highly suggest reading what there is of the story right now and join in (if I remember correctly, didn't you want to join "The Shadows of Darkness" when that was in the making?)--we still need our share of evil possible-champions in this story (I'll be making two new ones shortly). If you really don't have the time to read it though, I just want to say I'm glad the story has its share of people who are interested in it

And Krig, thanks for posting/editing what I sent you. Though I have to ask you: Why didn't you post the other part I sent you with it? I'm sure you have good reason, I just wanted to know.

~Geb

Yes, I suppose, I'm only on page 2 though. And it's likely there will be more by the time I catch up. I'm considering starting my own.

------------------
I created the most popular toilet 3do ever!
http://files.massassi.net/3do/toilet2.zip

(NSP: I didn't post the second part 'cause I was gonna save it for later. But you're back now, so you can post it yourself, yes?)

------------------
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he wasn't real.

NSP: Acutally, I can't (stupid file saved elsewhere...), and the next non-Rift related bit (which doesn't effect anyone else, so feel free to post... hehe) I don't want to post until Krig puts the second bit up, so hopefully that'll be soon.

And yes, it's sad. I've been teh cause of yet another (basically) B.U.M.P. on this story. Shame on me

~Geb

(The following post is also a joint venture between myself and Geb, but mostly Geb. Geb, here's your second part. Now get to work on more stuff. )

Diaszu Xenophent hiked through the woods with his staff in hand. He was making much progress for the day, he thought, and would reach the Rift soon enough. He tuned himself in to his surroundings: the birds chirping and whistling, the rustling in the leaves, the smell of the woods, the warm air, the vibrant variety of life around him. He began to ponder, as he often did, about his reality and the reality around him.

He remembered back when he was a student at the Wizard's Academy. The teachers there taught him about how in the Years of Darkness, those that fell did not fall only because of their actions, but rather; because of how they perceived their realities. For the most feared, Bazaal, his reality was that only power dictated what was truth. For Carnid, reality was simply a series of cause and effects strung together. For Jaccik, it was being right, and for Raivus, it was what you made of it, and for Apathis, there was no truth that dictated reality. Each of them, and the others, fell because they held strongly to their realities and used them to their advantage, and ultimately to their downfall. So Diaszu had been told at the Academy at least.

After leaving the Academy, one of the things that Diaszu always thought to himself was that these terrible men didn't fall because they held to their realities, but that they all could not hold on to them. Each was too illogical and wrapped up in themselves to be able to firmly think and decide on what grounds they stood on. Diaszu had seen it too many times, in the people around him, who were hypocritical in how they viewed reality and life: like those who would voice to save a baby that is still in the womb yet at the same time voice for the death of a living person for committing a
crime, or would want to save an endangered species but also throw away excess food wastefully that they had picked from a market.

Diaszu broke his train of thought as he sensed a presence near him. He looked around to find, a bit behind him, a mysterious figure who seemed to have been following him. The figure was garbed in similar clothing as Diaszu himself, only with the dark colors of the deep woods instead of the fall colors of his own. Unlike his own robes, the mysterious figure had a hood over its head, which hid most of its face. At the moment, now, the mysterious being was sitting down cross-legged, apparently meditating.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Diaszu began to walk again, returning to his previous thoughts, when he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, the mysterious figure following him. Diaszu wondered to himself who this figure could be. Were they connected in some way to the place where he was headed?

Before he had anymore time to ponder more, Diaszu nearly walked right into the mysterious figure, who now somehow was in front of him. Even standing right in front of the person, Diaszu could not make out the face underneath the hood. The mysterious person pulled their left hand in a fist up to their chest, grasped Diaszu's arm with their other hand, and lowered their left fist down to Diaszu's hand. Diaszu thought it odd that he didn't notice what the hands looked like, or even really feel them, though he'd admit that he was trying to look under the hood most of the time. Diaszu felt the person place a rock of some sort in his hand before backing up and exiting to the side, quickly disappearing into the woods.

Regaining his concentration again, Diaszu looked now into his hand. It was indeed, as he thought, a rock about the size of his palm, and as he examined it, noticed that it was in the shape of an equilateral triangle. He remembered from his days at the Academy that this shape was often used to symbolize a divine force (which he also remembered rather bitterly that almost all the teachers assumed the divine power could only be God). Was this strange person trying to convince him that they were the divine force, and if so, what did they want with him?

Diaszu quickly looked to where the figure had dissapeared to. Stretching his senses to the limits, Diaszu tried to locate the figure. To his surprise, there was no sign of the stranger. Not even a trace to show that there had been anyone there.

Diaszu's expression darkened. He'd encountered people who were mentally ill before, but never any that could hold him in a trance and then dissapear without a trace. Diaszu glanced around once more, then began walking again. He'd have to be more watchful from now on, but other than that, there was nothing more that he could do. With a final puff of annoyance, Diaszu glanced at the triagular rock once more, then stowed it away under his robes.

------------------
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he wasn't real.

[This message has been edited by Krig_the_Viking (edited June 28, 2001).]

(NSP: This is a joint venture between myself and Sem.)

Stanin, Noddo, Krystal, Saatch, Amry, and Jim wadded through the marsh, the thick stench of sulfur heavily wafting around them. The heat was oppressive, the insects vicious, and the water scummy, and each was taking its toll. Ahead of them, the thunderous crash of moving earth both encouraged them, being so near their journey’s end, and made them want to turn back.

“So where are we going?” Krystal asked, after one particularly fearsome blast.

“Well,” Jim began, “there are an infinite number of possibilities. Each and every choice, of every kind we make, creates a new dimension. Each of those dimensions in turn make more, and so on and so on. In each of those dimensions, existence heads on towards a direction. You can have free will to thank for such complications, Krystal. Complications such as “Does each ‘me’ in one of those dimensions have a soul, separate from my own, or are all are part of me?” So to answer your question in short, each of us is going everywhere at once, or rather, could be, if you believe in what I just said. If you want to be a pessimist about it, you could say that we’re going nowhere, and that everyone simply wanders aimlessly towards a non-existent endpoint. Ashes to ashes; dust to dust; the beginning and the end, all are One!”

The others stare at Jim with dumbstruck faces, stopping momentarily in their trek.

“Uh…” Krystal said, “I just wanted to know where we were going. Now.”

“Oh,” Jim said. “Guess nobody told you. The lot of us are going to the Rift, which lies just beyond those volcanoes. Saatch and I believe that the forces of Evil are plotting to rig the Decimillienial Battle.”

“What’s a Decimillienial Battle?” Krystal asked.

“We aren’t exactly sure, we just know we’re supposed to go that way.” Noddo piped up, pointing vaguely towards the source of the ambient thundering.

The water in front of them suddenly began to churn, and a ghostly figure rose up. It grabbed Krystal and disappeared.

Noddo stared at the spot where Krystal had been. “Why didn’t you stop it!?!?” Noddo shouted at Jim, smacking him on the back of the head.

“That was my superior, I’m not allowed to do anything.” Jim said in a disappointed voice.

“Your superior?” Amry asked. “Like God or something?”

“Hell no!” Jim said. “He is a higher-up angel who goes by the name Kronaemix. Or was, rather; I hear he works for the side of Justice now. He was the one who carried God’s orders to punish me.”

“I didn’t think angels were punished…” Stanin began, when Jim interrupted him.

“When you break the code you do. I had hindered the free will of a mortal, and for that, my punishment was to follow and protect the two of you,” Jim said, pointing at Noddo and Amry. “It seems that they also limited my powers and decided to let me know, the hard way. I can still do things like transporting myself anywhere in an instant and shield you all from attacks from most things, but to an angel, that’s pretty limiting.”

“Riiiight,” Amry muttered.

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

“Who the hell are you, where the hell am I, and why did you do that?!?”

“A simple ‘hello’ would be good for starters. I am Kronaemix, this is the top floor of a very unusual castle and I brought you here because I’m an angel and I can. Further explanations will have to wait a few moments.”

“Can you at least tell me who that is over there?” Krystal asked.

“The cat?”

“No, the crazy-looking lady.”

“Never met her, but I’ve heard she’s violent, don’t want to go near her. Have a seat.”

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

Krig looked around. It was not what he expected to find. Instead of the typical castle-look of stone walls and dank dungeons, he found an open courtyard-like area. Many simplistic yet grand pillars stood on this floor, supporting the ceiling it would seem. Apart from the wide open spaces, the pillars, and the pit in the middle of the courtyard, Krig could spot a sparse number of walls that indicated rooms along the wall. They gave the floor a feel of an ancient marketplace, devoid of any people, Krig noticed. He wasn’t sure if he should be comforted or frightened by this prospect. In one of the market stalls there was a display with a rather large, carved-wood box, on top of which sat two stone tablets that Krig took to be copies of whatever was inside. Feeling curious, he went over to the box and cracked the lid open.

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

Suddenly one of the stones in the floor near Krystal burst upwards, followed by an immense column of fire. It was followed moments later by a smallish, slightly charred man who shot, screaming, up into the air a few hundred feet.

“I brought you here,” Kronaemix said “to catch that. Take this.” He handed her one end of a large sheet of tightly-woven material, and stepped backwards a few feet. A very much annoyed Krig landed in the center, almost ripping through.

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

Jirverak stood stunned as he witnessed the slug like creatures, having nearly reached him, been incinerated by an explosion from the floor, followed by a column of fire and what looked like the small Viking man he had been with earlier. Regaining his composure, he managed to venture to the other side of the brightly-colored floor and reach the next flight of stairs without encountering any more of the slug-creatures.

After climbing the new flight of stairs, Jirverak found himself in a plain, wood-paneled room, with two doors. In impatience, Jirverak simply went to the door in front of him, and walked through it. What he found was very odd—the floor, walls, and ceiling were all covered with mirrors, every inch of it. When he went to turn back though, he found he could not open the door he came through, for it had no handle on the side where he was, and no crack to pry his fingers in. Everywhere he looked, he could see images of himself, and he soon found that it was very difficult to figure out where he was, for the walls seemed to form a maze. Jirverak began to grope the walls in search of an exit.

------------------
~Geb

Deep within the darkest bowels of Hell, past a civilisation composed of agony and suffering beyond human comprehension, in Satan's chambers, Beelzebub, Lucifer's second in charge, sat on a throne of carved minerals and bone.

Watching.

Waiting.

An underling of his advanced respectfully, presenting his Lord with a red crystal. Beezlebub eyed it, thoughtfully, then dismissed his minion absently.

The demon dropped the crystal to the floor, and crushed it beneath his foot. A dark red gas seeped out of the broken jewel, swirling and hissing before him. Satan watched on, bemused. The gas was forming, albeit slowly, into a humanoid form. Almost distantly, a scream filled the chamber, gaining strength in sync with the gas, which was beginning to solidify. Finally, with a protesting shriek, the gas shifted itself around in reality with an indescribable sound, becoming at once a demon.

"So'liq...you have failed Satan once again."

The Prince glanced around, bewildered, then realised his place and dropped to his knee. "My liege..."

Beezlebub waved an unamused hand. "I have resurrected you, So'liq, I have brought back your very being from the edge of reality itself, from where the warrior Highemperor scattered it. Consider yourself very lucky...such gratitude is unheard of in this place."

So'liq nodded with undisguised nervousness. "What would you have me do, my Lord?"

Beezlebub leaned forward on his throne. "Satan has re-entered you into the competition on a technicality. A...clause, if you like." A grin formed on Beezlebub's nightmarish features. "It will be explained later. Go there, and aid Hell's forces. You know of them, yes? Dark Lancer?"

So'liq nodded numbly. He knew of him only as a near-invulnerable demon that was not to be trifled with. Personal details of the being itself were few and far between.

"He will be there. I have no doubt that the forces of Good will be no match for him, but Satan wishes you to help, regardless. Before you do, though...an old friend of yours will be there. You remember Kronaemix?"

In response, Beezlebub received nothing but a burning glare and barely-concealed rage within So'liq.

"He will be there also. Satan will reinforce your powers. Kill him first."

So'liq nodded. "With pleasure."

"Now go. And So'liq..." Beezlebub narrowed his eyes until they were slits. "If you fail this time..."

The unspoken promise rang in the air. So'liq tried not to blanch.

"I will not fail Satan again."

[This message has been edited by The Last True Evil (edited July 04, 2001).]

(NSP: Oops, forgot some very important details, like how Kron was in a middle of a fight with Sem, and that Kron could figure out it was a test (of what yet, he's not quite sure, I'm thinking). But that's ok, I can fix it! Hehe)

Above the shifting, glowing molten rock, Kronaemix was striving to keep himself merlely alive as his new superior, Semievil, the keeper of the Plane of Power and the deity of Justice, was delievering blow after blow with his skull-capped staff. "What chance would I have against the Lord of Justice?" Kronaemix thoguht to himself. "He is, after all, one of the most powerful deities. How can I possibly pass this test, and what is it testing me for?" Then Semievil broke his train of thought.

"Excellent progress, Kronaemix," Semievil said casually, still attacking Kronaemix witht eh same speed and strength. "I think you're ready for the next step,"

Kronaemix was too busy defending himself to pay attention to what the Judge had said, but after the Judge spoke, Kronaemix felt a revelation hit him; from where or why, he hadn't a clue. Kronaemix realized that he had the power to be in two places at once. Before he could think of using it in his aid though, the Judge spoke again.

"I think you're ready to multitask now. A very important skill for beings such as ourselves." Stopping the fight, Semievil continued, now with Kronaemix's full attention. "With your new skill, I want you to do the following:", Semievil said, as Kronaemix began to visualize transporting a woman named Krystal from a nearby swamp, and transporting her to a far castle to save a man's life.

Kronaemix began to concentrate on his other self, almost forgetting where he was. Semievil, however, would'nt give him the chance to do so, as he began to attack Kronaemix once more.

"I have to...fight you...and...do this...other thing," Kronaemix said, obviously having difficulty concentrating. "At the...same time?"

"Don't worry," Semievil said with teh saem casual voice, "This will prepare you well,"

"For what?" Kronaemix pleaded with him. But the Judge gave no response, other than a violent outburst of something that looked like a fireball from the jaws of the skull-capped staff, aimed at Kronaemix.
---------------------------------------------
Jirverak was beginning to grow rather sick of seeing images of himself everywhere he looked. They didn't seem to be helping him maneuver through the mirror maze any, as well. It seemed as if there would be no end to this maze to Jirverak, or that he owuld starve to death before finding his way out. "At least there doesn't seem to be any monsters to face," Jirverak said to himself as he groped the corner of a wall.

He had spoke too soon though, as he bagen to notice that the reflections of himself began to eye him in ways he was fairly certain he wasn't doing himself. He then began to notice that each reflection was different from him, and the farther the reflection, the more difference he could see between them and himself. A few of the ones closest to him appeared as if they were stepping outside of the mirrors, and advancing towards him.

"Why can't all these things just leave me alone?" Jirverak said to himself, as he began to abandon groping the walls in favor of runnign wildly through the hallways. In his rushing, he nearly fell into the giant pit that he had noticed on the other levels. Oddly enough, as with the other floors, he could not seem to see anything past his own floor, up or down. He had little time to ponder the abnormality over though, as he noticed one of the versions of himself draw very close to him.

"You don't look so tough," Jirverak said to the reflection. True enough, the version of himself didn't look as strong as himself, or seem to be carrying any weapons on him for that matter. Yet the way he moved those hands in front of him disturbed Jirverak, especially when it began to form sparkling swirls around its fingers...

Acting on instinct, he ducked, just in time, as the other Jirverak had summoned a stream of vines and wood to shoot straight towards him. The summoned plantlife had missed its intended target though, and had instead continued to fly over the pit. The plantlife landed on the other side, forming a makeshift bridge. Taking advantage of the new bridge, Jirverak scuttled quickly over it. Taking no time to find out if the other vesion of himself was following him, he began to run once more, hoping that no other reflections would stop him.

Many hands had stretched out from the mirrors in attept to stop him, but Jirverak managed to avoid their clutches and find a wall that was semi-transparent. Assuming it was the door, Jirverak barreled through, pushing the wall open and through the other side. It had been indeed a door, as he assumed, and a one way one, as was the one he entered the maze through. He noticed a set of stairs leading upward, and to his right, walls and shelves of books, all with the same wood look that he first noticed on this floor. Not wishing to find any other horrors, and hoping to be able to grab the damsel in distress and go, Jirverak raced up the last flight of stairs.

------------------
~Geb

(A very interesting-and useful-talent you've developed in Kronaemix, Geb. I'll try to follow your trend...)

A savage swing, then another, as Kronaemix backs away from Semievil, who closes the gap between them in a moment-

Kronaemix's brow was knotted in concentration. Krystal eyed him and the dazed man on the floor cautiously, with equal parts wonderment and wariness.

"Are you all right?"

The Judge spins the skull-capped staff in a blur of motion, then tosses it at the angel. Kronaemix doesn't even have to guess that the impact will be fatal-

"I'm...fine. Why do....you ask?"

Krystal bit her lip.

Too late to bring his lightsaber up. Kronaemix pulls back in parallel with the staff, grabbing it out of the air and facing its owner with his weapon and the other in his hand-

"You seem a little...preoccupied, that's all."

Through the concentration, Kronaemix grinned. "You're...very perceptive-"

He has the advantage, but Semievil just smiles, as if he were in complete control of the situation. With barely-disguised rage, Kronaemix throws the staff back at Semievil, which whistles through the air toward its owner-

Krystal nodded. "Where are you taking me?"

A shrug from the angel. "Nowhere now...you just saved...that man's life. That's it..."

With blistering speed, Semievil spins, landing a roundhouse kick on the body of the staff just as it reaches him. Its trajectory defeated, the staff spins vertically up in the air, landing in the Judge's hands just as he completes the spin. The smile never leaves Semievil's face.

"I...thank you. Now...I must go..."

Krystal shrugged. "Suit yourself..."

Kronaemix, shaking with fury, advances on the laughing Judge again...

[This message has been edited by The Last True Evil (edited July 04, 2001).]

(NSP: To Dark Lancer--hope you don't mind me continually using the name Saatch instead of your other suggested one, it's just hard to switch over now (hard to remember, hehe), and I do promise I won't use teh name Saatch if I get to publishing this. For any prospecitve writers that may be reading this, if you're interested in joining, please read this story beforehand (also, reading "Saga of the 3rd War" and "The Shadows of Darkness" would be nice, but not required) and then e-mail me or one of the other writers. My e-mail is gebohq@hotmail.com for convinience. On with za story then!)

Jim, Stanin, Noddo, Amry, and Saatch had been scaling the rocky side of one of the mountainous volcanoes, the sulfur air thicker than before. The thunderous explosions were so loud now they shook the ground from the mere sound. The group also was cautious now of any flowing lava that came nearby them.

"So could someone remind me why we're going to this place?" Amry asked. "The er..."

"The Rift," Saatch said. He added "And we're going to it because it might very well be the place where the forces of Evil plan to disrupt the upcoming battle between the eternal powers."

"So why doesn't Jim just tell his other angel friends about it and let them deal with it?" Amry questioned, pointing to Jim.

"First off," Jim noted, ignoring the fact that Amry had not addressed him, "the situation to come will most likely be a good test for the lot of you in the contest to come. Secondly, besides having stripped me of any power to attack, my 'angel friends' as you so accurately put it Amry, also have appeared to sever all contact from me, leaving me with no way to tell them what I know."

Amry touched her temple in a way to show that a grand revalation struck her, rolling her eyes at the same time. Noddo at the time seemed eager to speak what was on his mind, and after hearing what Jim had to say, decided he could do so.

"Tell me though," Noddo began, "why it is that the almighty God doesn't inform his angels about the situation. Surely God would be concerned in a battle that directly involved him, and would know about whatever plans the forces of Evil have, being omniscient and all. Right?"

Having struck a chord with the others, everybody turns their attention to Jim for an answer. Stanin in particular seems most interested in how Jim would respond. Jim shook his finger at them as if to point out some error.

"You're absolutely right about God being omniscient, Noddo," Jim said. "as are all the eternal powers. I'm thinking I should explain to you what exactly omniscience covers. You see, being omniscient doesn't mean you know for certain what's going to happen. As I explained before, time doesn't work in linear matters, but branches into an infinite numbers of realities or dimensions. Now, to mortals, and even for us angels, the eternal powers know what is going to happen without question, because they can, in all their power, figure out which is most likely to happen. To each of them, though, any future has a possibility. In their omniscience, they can even see their own destruction."

Jim stopped for a moment as he notice the others looked very confused. He added "It's a concept mysterious and grand. Most mortals aren't expected to understand it in its entirety."

"Now," Jim continued, "I'd have to say that God is the exception to this, and that He is beyond everything. In my wisdom though, I have to realize that my perceptive is bias towards God, since I work and worship him. I also have to realize that, as humans have seen themselves as messengers between deities and those that they saw as below them, angels could very well be delusional to think so ask well."

"Are you saying that their might not be a God?" Stanin asked in disbelief. "Yet you...work for Him, and...you must have...seen Him..."

"Nobody can see God as He is," Jim said. "Or any of the other eternal powers for that matter," Jim added, sweeping his hand as he said so.

The air between them still felt stiff with many questions still to be answered, or perhaps it was just the sulfuric air that was dense where they were.

"Let's just continue climbing," Amry said. "I'm getting sick of all this." With that, the others decided to follow her advice and left the debate where it was, climbing the rocky side in silence.

------------------
~Geb

Slowly, Krig's eyes peeled open, then slammed shut again as the blazing light of the sun burned into his dark-adjusted eyes.

A few moments later, after the world had stopped rolling like a ship in a thunderstorm, Krig slowly sat up and peered around. He was on what appeared to be the top of a partially constructed stone tower, approximately fifty feet accross. Surrounding the rooftop was a low wall that looked like a crew of stonemasons had left off building it before it was halfway finished. In the centre of the floor, as on all the other floors, a large pit descended far below. Above, the noonday sun shone brightly down, having just revealed itself from behind a cloud.

There were other people here on the top of the tower as well, Krig realized. Closest to him, holding a sheet of white material as though she had forgotten it was there, stood a small, thin woman, looking around with a slightly confused look in her eyes. Almost immediately, however, Krig's attention was caught by a figure further away.

In the shadow of one of the partially constructed stone walls crouched the most beautiful woman Krig had ever seen in his life. Her hair was raven black, and reached to her shoulder blades. Creamy smooth skin and beautiful, doe-like eyes were combined in a such a way that the only word that came to an observer's mind was "perfection". Krig sat, unmoving, awestruck.

Krig's reverie was broken by a loud crashing clatter. He leapt to his feet and scanned for the origin of the noise, his axe suddenly in his hands. The sudden movement caused a small cloud of charred dust to puff from Krig's clothes.

Suddenly, on the other side of the pit in the centre of the floor, a trap door in the floor slammed open. A man in white armour, trimmed with gold, emerged from the stairs, sword in hand. Upon emerging from the trapdoor, he turned and looked down the stairs behind himself, apparently looking for pursuers. Satisfied he was not followed, the knight straightened and took in his surroundings.

When the man's eyes fell on Krig, they widened in unbelieving anger.

"YOU!" Jiverak's expression slowly changed from one of anger to one of anger mixed with confusion. "How did you... you're dead! I saw you die! No one could have survived that!"

"Krig not dead. Krig alive." Krig held his axe before him still, as this man seemed liable to attack.

Jiverak stood silently, his eyes shut, attempting to reason with himself. Suddenly, he seemed to realize that he and Krig were not the only ones present. He turned to Krystal, and gave his most formal bow.

"I apologize for my rudeness, my lady. I am Sir Jiverak Ironhands, of the Order of the Knights of Reyuan. I am on a mission to rescue a damsel who is said to be held captive in this fortress."
Jiverak glanced at the other woman, then back at Krystal. "Ah, if I may ask, are either of you two being held captive?"

"I am afraid you are mistaken, Sir Knight. There is no-one being held captive in this fortress. All who are here stay of their own free will."

It was the raven-haired woman who had spoken, rising from a crouched position and beginning to walk towards Krig, Jiverak, and Krystal. Her walk, though, could hardly be described as "walking", it was more a graceful glide, a movement so flowing and sensuous that it was difficult to look elsewhere. She was dressed in a filmy, ankle length dress of some sort that seemed to both cover and reveal at the same time. At her side, a sleek black and white cat walked with her.

She approached Jiverak, looking deep into his eyes. Jiverak started and began to stumble for words.

"I--ah--my name--er--I am Jiverak Ironhands, of the...the..."

She laughed, a sound like the clear tinkling of a crystal bell. "You need say no more. 'Jiverak' will do." A coy turning of her head and a flicker of her eyelashes gave her words deeper connotations.

Jiverak desperately tried to collect his thoughts. He was behaving like a school-child.

"What is a beautiful maiden like yourself doing in a dangerous place like this, if you are not held captive? Do you not fear the traps and horrors below that I have just conquered?"

She laughed again. "Of course I do not fear them! They were built to protect me! Each level below represents a different period in the history of this world, from the beginning of time until the present. To reach me, an intruder must best all of the most dangerous things ever created in all of history. No mean feat, but you have performed it." She smiled at Jiverak.

Krig glanced over at Krystal. They two had seemingly been forgotten about by everyone but the cat, who was purring around Krig's legs. Krig wondered what he was doing here.

The raven haired woman raised her hand and stroked the side of Jiverak's face.

"You know, there hasn't been a handsome young man such as you up here for almost five hundred years. It's a pity you must be leaving this plane."

"Leaving this plane?" Jiverak reached up and grasped the woman's hand, pulling it away from his face. If there was one thing that could disqualify him from being the Champion of Good, adultery was probably it.

"Yes" the woman's red lips turned down in a pout. "You see, if you were to leave here, you would undoubtedly tell all of your friends that the most beautiful woman in the world lives in this castle. We couldn't have hundreds of men storming the castle, now could we?" She sighed and, after a last glance over Jiverak's body, stepped back.

"Syc~jal, please rid me of these intruders." She turned her back on the little group.

Krig, Krystal, and Jiverak glanced around, slightly confused. Who was she talking to?

Suddenly, the cat that had been rubbing around Krig's legs meowed, a meow that became a deep, rumbling roar, unlike any earthly beast. The cat abrubtly dissolved into a greenish blue vapour. The cloud of blue vapour swirled up into the air, seeming to gain mass, and began swirling about in a vaguely man-sized tornado shape. Krig and the others took a few surprised steps back, away.

Where the cat had been before now stood a man of approximately nine feet in height. He was bare-chested, bald headed, and rippling with muscle. He glowered down at the small group, a malicious sneer on his face.

"As Lyana commands, so shall I do!"

------------------
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he wasn't real.

(NSP: Sem, I want to tell you this over the story because I want everyone else to hear it as well. Krig, myself, and Krystal (one of us anywhos, hehe) will have a very good psychological and phisiological reason why a servent of Justice, who is equal to angels, demons, and fairies (my official term for servents of Nature), would be bound by a small group of young, inexperienced first-generation magic users (the history of the whole ordeal will come to ye faithful readers soon enough). So I'd appreciate it if you would edit your previous post to either involve some other part of the story or delete it, because the involvement of the second djinn will complicate things as well as go against the flow of what was "planned" for the sidequest. I don't mean this as a cutdown either, but as angels, demons, or fairies aren't any more "powerful" in their animal forms (angel-bird/dove, demon-serpent, fairy-bug) but instead just perfer them for their more subtle advantages, I would think a djinn would only be in cat form for the same reasons, and wouldn't be bound by such petty things as "fingers' to cast what mortals know as magic.

Also, in your post, you mentione dthe appearance of Kronaemix. If you remember, Kron zipped away afetr saving Krig, so he shouldn't be there. I know djinns, as they fall under Justice, should be influenced somewhat by you, I was hoping, as the writers have with the other eternal forces, to try and stick with mainstream "mythology" (for a lack of better words). Again, I hope you'll take all this into consideration, and honestly, we'll have a GOOD reason why a powerful djinn (though most likely low on the rung of djinns, liek Jim is for angels) would be in the situation he's in. Thank you, and hope the story's development will come to a rising poitn soon with the destination to the Rift finally ending Hehehe.)

------------------
~Geb

NSP:

=P your the boss, Geb, it's your quest.

What I was thinking though, is that for answering the call of the punk-kids, he kind of got stripped of his privalages(like Jim).

As for being more powerful in kitty form- I though that might be kind of a thing w/ justice; it's more powerful in it's passive form, because too much interferance is inheritly unjust, and would create a paradox.
Just aims acomplished w/out interferance would be the most fair, and secure the power of justice. (no-one feels cheated, there's no need for revenge, et cetera.) And that is a point that I really want to stick to.

It also helps distinguish justice from good, and helps explain why Sem isn't choosing his own champion. All-in-all it's a symbolic thing, and if you have other ways to show that in the djinns, I'm open to suggestion.

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The early bird may get the worm-
but it's the second mouse who gets the cheeze.

Omnia quae specto dominavi, et tantam magnus sum, ut non specto!

[This message has been edited by Semievil333 (edited July 13, 2001).]

(NSP: After about 3 hours (spread out...not all at once) of squinting my eyes trying to adjust to the writing on the screen (which is hard for me to read) I finally caught up! (Well....I didn't read like the last 3 posts because my eyes really hurt..) So..for the sake of reading this story, I sacraficed my eye-sight...and now...when I go to the eye doctor at the end of August, I will need an even stronger prescription :-) Yeah! (Ok..not really...but I'm trying to sound optimistic about the whole fact that I'm going to need glasses) So...all I have to say...is the story is great...SO FAR...so keep going. It seems like you guys have lost a few people (posting wise) That's too bad. If only I could take their place...although that wouldn't work. :-) But I'll still support the story by reading it. :-) Keep up the grrrrrrr-eeeattt work (As "Tony the Tiger" would say)

(NSP: This post was written in collaberation with Semievil.)

Standing on the western edge of the Rift, Diaszu Xenophent spotted two figures at the opposite edge. He watched as they lowered ropes and made their way down into the depths of the Rift. Sensing that the two were involved in his mission somehow, Diaszu decided to follow their lead. Descending the steep obsidian slope, he glanced down occasionally. He thought he noticed a faint violent glow emanating from the depths of the Rift. “Fascinating,” he thought, as he continued his descent.
--------------------------------------------
Gasped for air, Noddo collaped, his head peered over the edge of the Rift. As his vision came into focus, he noticed Amry standing above him.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones here,” she said, pointing at the ropes across the Rift and a rope to their far right.

“I’m not tired!” Noddo gasped. Standing up too quickly, the blood rushed out of Noddo’s head and he lost his balance and fell down the side of the Rift. Saatch stepped up to Amry, and looked over the edge.

“That better have been an accident,” Saatch said to Amry. She shot Saatch a sarcastic look.

“I suppose we better go after him,” she said, getting a rope out and throwing it down the side of the Rift.

(To be continued...*by Geb and Sem*)

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~Geb

(I wonder if Gebohq's referral to a 'faint violent glow' was indicative of the magma, or the glow of Kronaemix's and Semievil's weapons. Either way, a nice touch, Geb All right, I've procrastinated enough. Time to finish this God-forsaken fight...)

It had ended as quickly as it had started.

Kronaemix, ducking a strong blow from Semievil, had let his blade linger for a moment too long. The Judge, with no apparent fatigue, had brought the skull-staff up and, with a crack, had knocked the lightsaber from Kronaemix's hand, sending it clattering along the narrow bridge with no small degree of luck.

Semievil had pressed the advantage, and brought the staff down again in a killing blow, but Kronaemix grabbed the handle, and the two dropped to the surface of the narrow stone bridge, Kronaemix's head sticking out over the edge, not twenty feet above the molten lava of the Rift. The angel was struggling hard, indeed, but Semievil had all the leverage, and inch by inch, the hideous skull came closer and closer to his face.

Insanely, at that moment, Kronaemix was well aware of faint voices high above them in the chamber.

"Surely now you must see...Kronaemix."

"See...what?" The angel struggled vainly agains the powerful Judge.

"To fight me...is to fight inevitability...itself. An exercise...in futility."

"I've fought inevitability before, Judge."

Kronaemix pulled his face close to Semievil's, so they were nose to nose.

"And won."

And with that, he pulled down-violently-on Semievil's staff, but diagonally, past his head by mere inches-

The skull-capped staff sparked against the stone bridge, and suddenly, it snapped. The two halves of the bridge split, and arced down rapidly toward the lava, just as Kronaemix kicked free of Semievil and grasped the sides of the bridge for support.

The Judge rolled head-over-heel downwards, and then, just as he hit the magma, there was a huge explosion, that further destroyed the two bridge-halves and loosened Kronaemix's grip. Now, holding on with only one hand, Kronaemix struggled to pull himself up, but his grip...

Was...

Slipping...

And then, he lost his grip entirely, and was falling-

His outstretched hand was suddenly caught, and he was being pulled up by-

The Judge.

Semievil offered no explanations, but only smiled, as he pulled the astounded Kronaemix out of danger, to the safety of the cavernous floor of the Rift.

"How-"

"Shh." Semievil indicated for him to be silent, and grinned.

"We have company."

(NSP: Epp! LTE, can you do me a huge favor? Go back and edit your post so that Sem's staff doesn't break. I know it's kind of a wierd request, but I was kind of saving that image for the last few posts. I don't mind if Kron gets in a few good hits (even if Sem is on the divine level, Kron is an angel) , but I was kind of hoping to break the staff later on in a symbolic sort of scene. Also, please note it's violet[/b], not violent, and Geb and me should be posting in the next 2 hours or so to clarify that... =D cheers, and happy writing)

------------------
The early bird may get the worm-
but it's the second mouse who gets the cheeze.

Omnia quae specto dominavi, et tantam magnus sum, ut non specto!