tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75799841392839328662024-03-05T15:00:27.510-06:00ExtonMortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.comBlogger3157125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-61704709047975586552016-10-17T20:20:00.001-05:002016-10-25T21:10:07.668-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilV6ONzlZintI_Vok8WOAMhCefuzSQ5a8A_p8p3ypWU7JcGIUetWhH1jaFA1WpI-8hIdBJccGHXalDJdldibOaOFkfSiE49udU4xmhmL10v6UzKrGBmZmd37f1q8Un83-0y-_uagTdmxvK/s1600/Ramji.gif" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilV6ONzlZintI_Vok8WOAMhCefuzSQ5a8A_p8p3ypWU7JcGIUetWhH1jaFA1WpI-8hIdBJccGHXalDJdldibOaOFkfSiE49udU4xmhmL10v6UzKrGBmZmd37f1q8Un83-0y-_uagTdmxvK/s320/Ramji.gif" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
Ramji stretches. He is stiff and in pain, but that is better than the
alternative. Guunnar's tripping was the best thing that happened.
At least his head is still attached. The Croatian moves slowly, not just
to avoid more pain, but mostly to avoid waking the woman cuddled against
his side. Breathing deeply, Ramji rises quietly from the bed.<i> Basil and
Mint. </i>He struggles one handed, trying to slip into his jeans. He
mutters under his breath to keep from cursing out loud.<br />
<br />
"What are you doing?"<br />
<br />
The Rider stills instantly. Looking over his shoulder he whispers, "Going to get coffee...?"<br />
<br />
"I'm awake Ramji. I've been awake for the last half hour. I just didn't
want to wake you." Laila shakes her head. "Sit down. I will help you."<br />
<br />
Ramji drops onto the edge of the bed, knowing not to argue with her when
she is using that tone. He smiles at the top of her head as Laila
kneels before him to ease the pants over his lower legs.<br />
<br />
"Stand up.... and just WHAT are you smiling at?"<br />
<br />
"Nothing. I missed you." She raises a brow at him. He stands and she
helps him pull up the jeans, buttoning his fly. Her fingers linger over
the fabric, gently stroking. He captures her hand in his good one.
Bringing them to his lips, he kisses the tips. "Do your hands still
hurt?"<br />
<br />
"Sometimes. Weather like this," She glances out the window at the gently
falling snow. "Oh yes. Star keeps me supplied with the ointment." She
touches his cheek, just below a wicked scratch. "I was thinking, maybe
you could use some..."<br />
<br />
He grins, his eyes dancing. "As you wish." At her frown, he chuckles. "I
am not blonde and handsome." She opens her mouth to speak and he
touches her lips, shaking his head. "Laila, I am well aware I am a
forbidding looking man with my tattooed face and grim expressions. Dmitri
tells me that often. He really is amazed that you did not run screaming
from me."<br />
<br />
The corners of her eyes crinkle as she covers her mouth with her hand to
keep from laughing, "Why would you want to be blonde? You are dark and
dangerous." She kisses him lightly. "Besides, I prefer Inigo to
Westley." She grabs a robe as she darts from the room, Ramji on her
heels.<br />
<br />
"Laila! when did you see the movie? And, WHERE are you going?"<br />
<br />
She laughs, pulling her robe over her flannel nightgown as she reaches
the top of the stairs. " I am Nanny to Alise and Stoney's children.
Movies are a given, especially movies with swords, princesses, and
warriors. And... I thought you wanted coffee, My Inigo." <br />
<br />
Ramji laughs, a sound that has become more common the longer he is with Laila.<br />
<br />
The sound of a clearing throat interrupts the couple before they can
head down the stairs. They turn to see Guunnar leaning against the
doorframe of his room.The giant is holding his head looking pained.<br />
<br />
*"<i>Ach, nicht so laut. Mein kopf</i> feels as if Andvari's smitheries are
recreating Valhalla's armory." He holds a finger to his lips. "Shhhh.
Kvietly. I tink I might... explode."<br />
<br />
Laila giggles, and murmurs to Ramji. "Ala mode."<br />
<br />
Guunnar peers blearily at the couple. "Vat?"<br />
<br />
"Ever see 'The Princess Bride', Guun?"<br />
<br />
Guunnar sighs. "Ramji, Ich hast known many princesses who haff become brides. Vat does dat haff to do mit ice cream?"<br />
<br />
The Rider shakes his head. "No Guunnar, a movie. Come ^<i>moj prijatelj</i>, let's get some coffee and we will tell you about it."<br />
<br />
Guunnar pushes away from the door frame and lumbers toward the couple.
"Ja, Koffee ist gut idea. Ramji, du needs shirt. Might be chill in bar."
Guunnar drops his robe over Ramji's shoulders. The smaller man looks
like a toddler playing dressup. "~<i>Ja, ist gut genug</i>. Come tell me of dis
movie... and <i>vy Ich bin Fezzik</i>." The Viking lumbers down the stairs
followed by Lalia and Ramji.<br />
<br />
Laila looks at her lover in surprise. Ramji shrugs. "Guunn?"<br />
<br />
"<i>Ja?</i>"<br />
<br />
"I thought you didn't know the movie."<br />
<br />
Guunnar just smiles and continues down the stairs. <br />
<br />
<br />
*"Ah, not so loud. My head feels as if Andarvi's smitheries are recreating Valhalla's armory."<br />
<br />
^my friend.<br />
<br />
~Yes, is good enough.
Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-70489474299788510952015-10-18T18:56:00.003-05:002015-10-18T19:03:38.527-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_bVcFWnrr0NA-TOroT9Pgqy37pOkVwDlAN5uVyufrLf686ZeP0Hu1pZXtzfxGIMCNIPY9no9L8QVswqjeAlTyLsKx2F2nqoVwGPulVqNVe_8sIX4zc1AEu7QgBFFUpIVg2f5BWZtpcdaN/s1600/Stoney.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_bVcFWnrr0NA-TOroT9Pgqy37pOkVwDlAN5uVyufrLf686ZeP0Hu1pZXtzfxGIMCNIPY9no9L8QVswqjeAlTyLsKx2F2nqoVwGPulVqNVe_8sIX4zc1AEu7QgBFFUpIVg2f5BWZtpcdaN/s320/Stoney.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Stoney watches his wife as she moves among their friends and family. His mind touches hers gently and he asks her to come sit beside him at the keyboard. She smiles and moves in his direction. The sight of her takes away his breath. His long fingers stroke over the ivories, picking out notes.<br />
<br />
Alise smiles at him as he shakes his hair forward. She knows that move. He is hiding his face so she doesn't see, or perhaps others won't see, the emotions he can't hide.<br /><br />
What would I do without your smart mouth<br />
Drawing me in, and you kicking me out<br />
Got my head spinning, no kidding, I can’t pin you down<br />
What’s going on in that beautiful mind<br />
<br />
I’m on your magical mystery ride<br />
And I’m so dizzy, don’t know what hit me, but I’ll be alright<br />
My head’s under water<br />
But I’m breathing fine<br />
You’re crazy and I’m out of my mind<br />
<br />
Tori smiles as Tannr draws her into his lap. He whispers in her ear. <br />
"I heard Stoney working on this a few weeks ago. It fits us too."<br />
<br />
Stoney turns his head slightly, looking at Alise through a fall of his hair. She smiles and tucks it out of the way so she can kiss his cheek.<br />
<br />
'Cause all of me<br />
Loves all of you<br />
Love your curves and all your edges<br />
All your perfect imperfections<br />
<br />
Give your all to me<br />
I’ll give my all to you<br />
You’re my end and my beginning<br />
Even when I lose I’m winning<br />
<br />
'Cause I give you all of me<br />
And you give me all of you oh.<br />
<br />
Tannr's hand follows Tori's spare curves, teasing along her ribs. He hums in her ear, nipping it gently. "I do loves those curves and edges."<br />
<br />
She moves back, glaring at him. "Whose curves?"<br />
<br />
He pulls her back against his chest. "Yours, Red. Every muscular, limber..." She raises a fist and he laughs. "My feisty wench..." As she swings, he moves forward, suddenly kissing her. With a sigh, her arm drapes around hisshoulders. "All of me... Red.. all of" She shuts him up with another kiss.<br />
<br />
How many times do I have to tell you<br />
Even when you’re crying you’re beautiful too<br />
The world is beating you down, I’m around through every move<br />
You’re my downfall, you’re my muse<br />
<br />
My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues<br />
I can’t stop singing, it’s ringing, in my head for you<br />
<br />
Laila watches the couple on the stage. She glances toward the back hall. Still no Ramji. Worry weighs heavy as she thinks over what Guunnar said. He didn't see him. What did that mean?<br />
<br />
My head’s under water<br />
But I’m breathing fine<br />
You’re crazy and I’m out of my mind<br />
<br />
Keon leans close to Eite, summarizing Stoney and Alise' trials for their love. He tells her of the decades spent believing she was not lost to Stoney, of his faith he would find her one day, and when he finally did it was to find she was a ghost. They had found a spell, bringing her back among the living.Then they nearly lost each other again. Laila had heard the stories, but hearing them again as the man spills his love into a song for his beloved has her bowing her head to wipe away tears.<br />
<br />
'Cause all of me<br />
Loves all of you<br />
Love your curves and all your edges<br />
All your perfect imperfections<br />
<br />
Give your all to me<br />
I’ll give my all to you<br />
You’re my end and my beginning<br />
Even when I lose I’m winning<br />
<br />
'Cause I give you all of me<br />
And you give me all of you<br />
Give me all of you oh<br />
<br />
Cards on the table, we’re both showing hearts<br />
Risking it all, though it’s hard<br />
'Cause all of me<br />
Loves all of you<br />
<br />
Voices join Stoney's. Alise looks around, seeing so many holding others close. Theirs is not an easy life, so many dangers being just who, what, they were.Yet.... She turns back to her husband. Her mind strokes his gently, letting him feel the strength of her love.<br />
<br />
Love your curves and all your edges<br />
All your perfect imperfections<br />
Give your all to me<br />
I’ll give my all to you<br />
You’re my end and my beginning<br />
Even when I lose I’m winning<br />
<br />
'Cause I give you all of me<br />
And you give me all of you<br />
<br />
I give you all, all of me<br />
And you give me all of you oh<br />
<br />
The last of the notes drift away in a gentle silence. Laila opens her eyes, having closed them to better listen to the song. The soft stroke of fingers in her hair startles her and Laila jerks away from the unexpected touch. She nearly knocks Ramji over with her chair as she tries to stand. She grabs his arm, to keep herself from falling and flinches away when he curses. It is only then her mind registers the sling and bandages on his neck and face.<br />
<br />
"I am sorry I am late, *moja slatka janjetina. Can you forgive..." He never finishes his sentence. Ramji finds himself pushed into her chair as Laila tries to inspect the bruises on his face. He captures her hands in his one good hand. He raises them to his lips. <br />
<br />
"I am fine. Laila.. I am fine. Bruised and a few broken bones. But if Guunnar hadn't tripped over me, we'd both be worse." She tries to free her hands. Ramji holds on a little longer, pressing them to his cheek. He breathes deep, a peaceful smile dispelling some of his lines of pain. "^Bosiljak i menta, You are still using the lotion..."<br />
<br />
<br />
*my sweet lamb<br />
<br />
^Basil and mintMortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-4359465540708411122015-10-18T18:38:00.007-05:002015-10-18T18:39:28.672-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3Tap0hKEeG4g0wI-BKDkiLsfWAkuL56S4gJK08yvqD-RKWUWv3K8uUi0c2xhwhmjHkVObZw1E7YF7AWuLJZqxjuxdiaQkTOJfQ4h37LD2G2NHrwdL8Xt70Ofua9nLYREiiK2tOJU34ij/s1600/Delphine.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3Tap0hKEeG4g0wI-BKDkiLsfWAkuL56S4gJK08yvqD-RKWUWv3K8uUi0c2xhwhmjHkVObZw1E7YF7AWuLJZqxjuxdiaQkTOJfQ4h37LD2G2NHrwdL8Xt70Ofua9nLYREiiK2tOJU34ij/s320/Delphine.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Delphine watches her submissives mingle with the Taverners. She
smiles to herself. Nothing is regular about these people, even the
Humsns are more, definitely not your average everyday mortal. She,
Herself, may be the only "non-gifted one here. Then again, considering
this is Exton, should she be surprised?<br />
<br />
The atmosphere is
relaxed. There is no air of discomfort, and she knows she would be able
to tell if there was, afterall reading levels of discomfort is all part
of her business. She watches the snow fall through the magical wall.
Two men mount the porch steps, both shrouded in dark cloaks and scarves.
Behind them comes a motley crew. The cloaked men move, stepping aside
to watch the night as the group passes between them. The cold blast from
the open door turns heads.<br />
<br />
The werewolf bouncer is suddenly
there, holding a crate. Delphine blinks. She never saw the man move. His
appearance is not unexpected though. The group moves aside to allow
their last members inside as they divest themselves of weapons and
outerwear. The two cloaked men wait until everyone else has moved to the
bar before they place their own weapons in the crate and push back
their hoods. Only then is one revealed to be a woman. Cloaks hung by the
door, the pair makes their way to where the Dark Elf sits with a large
man, his fair-haired Fae wife, and a striking woman with blue tinged
hair.<br />
<br />
The Dark Elf rises from his chair, only to instantly drop to
one knee. Delphine watches with interest as the woman murrmurrs a few
words and the Elf rises to his full height. He kisses the woman's hand
and motions to two others who are getting ready to head out into the
storm. There is a short conversation and the newy cloaked pair joins a
group heading out into the storm. The Dark Elf holds a chair for the
woman and her companion heads to the bar for refreshments. The woman
says something to the people at her table and Pandora's husband is
quickly on his feet, laughing as he offers the woman his hand. She shoos
him away, calling him a fool, and the gargoyle drops into his chair
with a grin.<br />
<br />
Maxwell bows before his Mistress, holding a pot of coffee. She nods and he fills her mug.<br />
<br />
"Maxwell."<br />
<br />
She watches him lower his eyes and she smiles, turning her attention to the group at the <i>family</i> table.<br />
<br />
"The
dark haired woman with the exotic eyes is Lady Silk, or to the warriors
here, Mistress Leather. She is..." He presses his lips together,
thinking for a moment. "She is a cousin Mistress Pandora's husband, but
not a Gargoyle. She is a respected fighter and extremely skilled. The
people where we are sitting say she is Domme, but plays with few. She
has deep ties to Lord Keon of the Unseelie Courts and her chosen mate
whom they would only call "The Good Doctor".<br />
<br />
Delphine raises an
eyebrow slightly. "Hmmmmm. So the dark elf is a true Sidhe, interesting
that he bows to one not of his race." Maxwell glances up at his Mistress
and she frowns. He quickly lowers his eyes. "Thanks you Maxwell. That
will be all for now. You may go... socialize."<br />
<br />
As he turns to go,
she calls his name. "Maxwell, one more thing." The young man bows
slightly in her direction, eyes averted but listening intently. "The
group of people who just left, and the group that came in earlier....
what is that about?"<br />
<br />
The young man swallows hard before answering. "A patrol of some type Mistress. I.. I did not think to ask..."<br />
<br />
"You know how best to ask, Maxwell. I really do not like unanswered questions you know."<br />
<br />
"Yes Mistress."<br />
<br />
She
makes a small shooing motion with her fingers and the man disappears
among the patrons. Feeling eyes on her, Delphine glances up, meeting the
gaze of the woman. The appraise each other and Lady Silk nods and
raises her mug. Delphine does the same. Only one word comes to mind as
Delphine turns back to her list of phone numbers.<br />
<br />
<i>Dangerous.</i>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-17573158996764932832015-10-18T18:36:00.001-05:002015-10-18T18:36:40.070-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGatqsJ_Zyq-Kh6Yc1ByGnGViC1uNc7-4g-dlu3zis01EbWxAJPsDzq39-_YqJJ7Vw4xsYcVKwHA4GEE7HmWv3fYJwheldO1afvcqB0jGlLqrMMuG0UrhXbiJNd7XbVOILWrInlYvA4Ea/s1600/Delphine.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGatqsJ_Zyq-Kh6Yc1ByGnGViC1uNc7-4g-dlu3zis01EbWxAJPsDzq39-_YqJJ7Vw4xsYcVKwHA4GEE7HmWv3fYJwheldO1afvcqB0jGlLqrMMuG0UrhXbiJNd7XbVOILWrInlYvA4Ea/s320/Delphine.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Quiet time.<br /><br />At least... quieter than the Tavern usually is at this hour. Technically the place is closed, but a few intrepid souls, <i>or perhaps idiots?</i>
have ventured out in the storm. Stoney picks out the notes of a half
forgotten song as he listens to the sound of soft conversations. A cold
blast washes across his back as Jeb opens the door. Feet stomp and there
is the rustle of coats as they are removed and hung on the rack.<br /><br />The
awed “WOW… Cool effect!” brings a smile to his lips. He knows that
voice. Ron. The Fox calls a hello to Stoney as he and his friends grab a
table. “Pandora’s doing?” Stoney nods. Monty stops by their table to
direct the guys to the bar. He also offers the shivering Ty a blanket.
The Tiger accepts gratefully.<br /><br />Monty had set up platters of food
and carafes of hot drinks after a discussion with Pandora and Ob. More
people had ventured out in the storm than expected, and so many were
ending up on their doorstep. The Tavern was fast becoming a welcome stop
before people ventured on to their destination.<br /><br />The crisp click
of heels draws eyes to the back hallway. A petite woman strides to a
booth, a long red nailed finger tapping the bluetooth in her left ear as
she scrolls through an electronic appointment book. It isn't until she
slides into the end of a privacy booth that anyone notices the couple
who follow her, quiet as shadows. When she motions to the other bench,
the pair slips onto the seat. They fold their hands and keep their eyes
downcast as she speaks to them. Pandora touches Ob's hand and leaves the
family table. The woman smiles at the Witch's approach and rises to
shake hands.<br /><br />Ob grins and raises a glass in the woman's
direction. She nods back and speaks to the young man when Pandora points
at the layout on the bar. As the couple glides to the food, Pandora
brings the woman to meet the others at the table. <br /><br />"Mistress, You
remember my husband from our visit to Your Domain. You also know Ike,
Patti, and Monty. Everyone else here is Kith and Kin, as my husband
says. This lovely Lady is Mistress Delphine, our downstairs tenant. Her
domain is the Dungeon. Maxwell and Julia are her inhouse submissives." <br /><br />After
a round of introductions, Delphine and her people are invited to sit
with the family. With a small smile the woman declines. "I am afraid I
have client calls to return, but after W/we eat, I will allow the <i>children</i>
to socialize." She bows her head and returns to the booth where Maxwell
and Julia have laid out food and drink. They wait until she is seated
and then serve their Mistress before sitting down to their own plates.<br /><br />Tori
had stared after the petite woman as she walked away. She sighs. At
glances from the others she shrugs. "What? I mean look at her. So self
possessed, straight dark brown hair pulled back tight in a bun. The
perfect "vampire" widow's peak. Perfect bow shaped mouth. Short stature,
but a full figure with a narrow waist." She grins. "Is it just me, or
does she remind anyone else of a modern Lily Munster?"</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-18175724490580550802015-10-18T18:33:00.002-05:002015-10-18T18:33:27.675-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxntfQX7ysSRrU4dORKXskxErNYhDHwR05Eoj2lvRw79MLcU95AdF-67JFsYQFb3xujbhWZn3D3qAuU4QjLBOMpWIWBv5fDR_aR0j73j2kJ2Lzu10jmp4-mVFCsoAry-O3A-L6XUdNI4V/s1600/Guunnar2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxntfQX7ysSRrU4dORKXskxErNYhDHwR05Eoj2lvRw79MLcU95AdF-67JFsYQFb3xujbhWZn3D3qAuU4QjLBOMpWIWBv5fDR_aR0j73j2kJ2Lzu10jmp4-mVFCsoAry-O3A-L6XUdNI4V/s320/Guunnar2.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Dinner was done, plates cleared away, and surprisingly, Monty was free
to have time with Kith and Kin of the Tavern. Tori's street kids had
insisted on cleaning up in return for warm rooms. As warm as the
Warehouse was, it was still chilly when the temperatures dipped below
freezing. He sat with Ike, chatting with Family as they watched the snow
fall.<br /><br />Sometime during the meal, the fine snow had turned into
large fluffy clusters of snowflakes. Pandora had cast a spell to turn a
small portion of the front wall into a one way mirror. It worked, but
not quite as expected. The group was discussing what made the spell turn
the whole front wall into a window and not just a small section. The
most probable reason seemed to be the possible inadvertent channeling of
the casting by all four Gargoyles and their offspring. <br /><br />Ob rests
his arm across the back of Pandora's chair. "Mi amor, Bruha. Stop. All
it has done is given us a beautiful view of the storm. It is... It is
like watching a giant snowball."<br /><br />Pandora frowns. He shakes his head and looks at the others. "Por favor... someone tell her."<br /><br />Tori
leans back laughing. "Good Lord and Lady! Pandora, look around you.
People are fascinated and that isn't part of the spell. Look at the
kids. Hell, look at Keon."<br /><br />Keon had flipped a table on its side
and piled pillows against it. More pillows were scattered on the blanket
on which he sat. Leaning against the tabletop, Keon talks quietly with
Eite. The woman had finally relaxed, helped by the fact that they could
see out, but no one could see in. Mera lay beside her, cuddled between
the pair with her head on her father's leg. The Dark Lord strokes his
daughter's blueblack curls as she dozes. Gracie, Ru, and Teri are curled
among the pillows, eyes nearly closed as they watched the drifting
snow.<br /><br />Laila sighs as she looks to the back hallway. Still no
Ramji. She rises from her seat and speaks quietly to Tara and Chloe,
suggesting bedtime. The girls pout, but their mothers agree and send the
girls to the Nursery. <br /><br />Tomas and Ryan were last seen listening
to stories from Guunnar and Dmitri. Both the boys and Guunnar are
missing, at least until Dmitri points out the giant's feet sticking out
from behind Keon's tipped table. Laughter and smiles are difficult to
suppress when they find all three fast asleep under another blanket. As
the boys are lifted, Guunnar surges awake, fists raised. <br /><br />Dmitri hushes the Viking. "SSSSHHHHH, *Parakaló_, Guunnar. The boys are sleeping. They are only being taken to bed."<br /><br />The giant blinks several times, finally focusing on his friend. "Ach... gut... Ja, gut. I tink.. I tink must geh alzo." <br /><br />"Yes
my friend. You need to go to bed as well. Come, leave the boys to there
family. I will get you settled for the night." Dmitri smiles at the
others. "He has not slept much since..." Dmitri shakes his head. "The
children have been good for him tonight." He leads the big man toward
the stairs. <br /><br />Guunnar follows, obviously asleep on his feet.
"Dmi... tell Ram... am sorry... ^mir lied... didn't see him..." His
words were mumbled but loud enough to stir worry in Laila's mind.<br /><br />The
children are gathered and tucked in their beds in the nursery. Nanny
settles in the glider with Nadia. Star kisses the baby's nose and she
smiles. When Nadia reaches for Erik, he kisses one of her small hands
and tells her it is time to sleep. The baby sniffles and Erik leans
close to kiss her forehead. He whispers something and the baby yawns.
The adults slip from the room as Nanny sings softly to Nadia. <br /><br /><br />*Please<br /><br />^am sorry</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-12193845231783012472015-10-18T18:30:00.001-05:002015-10-18T18:30:48.848-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3AYhr5Ik1XuWFIQRyMR6Zih2AqqAR41L7IJhhx5Ehy4W41kX_dhuI4tUp0fr4BAHWUvutBIJrBE_F2xB46xMrCZYEoIaNn5fONHHOutd_9FLXOqxN_zUENqRdaSt006wxRq6N4g47oK3/s1600/Eite2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3AYhr5Ik1XuWFIQRyMR6Zih2AqqAR41L7IJhhx5Ehy4W41kX_dhuI4tUp0fr4BAHWUvutBIJrBE_F2xB46xMrCZYEoIaNn5fONHHOutd_9FLXOqxN_zUENqRdaSt006wxRq6N4g47oK3/s320/Eite2.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The snow is a curtain of small furious flakes. The houseboat rocks
gently, safely moored in place. There is no fear of damage thanks to Ron
and his friends. The four Weres had spent a great amount of time
readying the boat for Winter. The dock itself had been buffered to keep
the hull safe. Of course it wasn't for nothing, Keon had paid the boys
well for their efforts. Eite sighs, Wondering how long the storm would
last. She sips from the steaming mug she holds cupped in her hands. Tao
raises his grizzled head and cocks an ear. When she merely sips her tea,
the HellHound drops his head on his paws and closes his eyes.<br /><br />Moments
later Tao slips from the couch and pads to through the kitchen. The
sound of his nails clicking on the pale blue tile floor suddenly stops.
Eite sets her mug on the small side table and slips her feet into a pair
of fluffy slippers. Her steps are quiet as she moves into the kitchen.
She glances back at the couch once, regretting the fact she had not
grabbed the knife hidden under the throw pillow. Keeping out of sight,
Eite eases a knife from the block on the counter. She watches Tao,
readying the blade. She hears voices, but the sounds are muffled. Tao
cocks his ears forward. But it isn't until the HellHound's tail begins a
slow sweep of the floor that the Half-Drow Siren breathes easier. Knife
still held at ready, she moves door, crouching next to a cabinet.<br /><br />Tao
huffs, raising his head to turn it into a full throated howl. He is
answered in kind. A familiar voice calls out, "*Dia duit an bád! Tao,
Eite! Dinner at the Tavern?"<br /><br />Keon. Tao moves back from the door
letting it open. Trooper greets his packmate as the Dark Lord slips
inside, Mera in his arms. Keon quickly closes the door, leaning against
it with a merry laugh. "'Tis a right frigid blast out there. Star says
to pack a bag, we'll be staying for a few days." He helps Mera take off
her coat."Monty says dinner is soon. So hurry, less ye want ta stay
here." He turns at her silence. A puzzled expression meets his gaze.
"Ach lass... I dinna think ye might... Eite, what is wrong?"<br /><br />She
stares at him, then looks out the window, then back at the Unseelie
Sidhe. "You want to... You brought Mera out in..." She glances at the
pair of HellHounds. Both had lain down, waiting patiently. She hesitates
a moment more.<br /><br />His voice is gentle as he takes the knife from
Eite's hand. "'Tis safe enow here, but twill be safer among others.
Between the Mer and me own spells, naught will befall what is left here.
Pack a bag lass. an we'll be off. Will take but a wee bit ta get ta the
Tavern, so dress warmly. I promise ye, an ye know We nae make promises
easily... Come with us ta the tavern." Mera takes her hand, tugging
until Eite looks down. "Please Eite? <i>Everyone</i> will be there."<br /><br />Eite smile hesitantly at the little girl. "There's lots of room."<br /><br />The
woman sighs and lets the little girl follow her to her room. Mera
chatters away the whole time Eite puts clothes in a bag. Keon pops his
head in the door to see if she is ready. She has almost no time to
breathe as he whisks her out the door to a waiting sleigh. As he tosses
her bag in, Eite turns back to the houseboat. He helps her onto the
bench seat beside Mera and tucks a blanket around their legs. He smiles
at her as he climbs in and takes up the reigns.<br /><br />"Relax Eite. Yer
mug was rinsed and is in ta sink. Lights are on a timer. Windows and
doors are warded. Trooper and Tao are coming w' us, Twillon and Weebit
are waiting on ta Path." <br /><br />As Eite settles back against the
cushions, Keon nods to the Hounds. With a flick of his wrists, the group
is off. As they pass through the Veil, Eite glances back one last time,
sure she felt someone watching. They are on the Shadow Path in the next
moment.<br /><br />Hood back, Twillon stands next to his mount, laughing up
at Weebit and Tork. As Keon's sleigh slides onto Path, the Blonde Sidhe
surges up into his saddle. "About time!" He calls. "Monty said dinner
would be soon? Well, let's get there before Guunnar eats it all!"<br /><br />In
no time at all, the group gallops through a Gate into the back lot of
the Twisted Tit Tavern. Weebit flits to Twillon's shoulder, burying
herself beneath his hair against the warmth of her lover's neck. Tork
lands on the Sidhe's other shoulder. Keon unharnesses the horse, covers
the sleigh with a tarp from the and ushers everyone through the backdoor
of the Tavern. He turns back once, casting a spell to protect the
sleigh and to watch the horses slip back through the Gate. As the door
closes behind him, the comfort of the Tavern settles around him. He
inhales deeply and smiles. The aromas of Monty's cooking, the sound of
music and happy voices help him drop the protective air that he kept in
place on the ride here. He too had felt as if the boat were being
watched.<br /><br /><br />*Hello the boat!Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-24520070548818897022015-10-18T18:27:00.002-05:002015-10-18T18:28:21.528-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxntfQX7ysSRrU4dORKXskxErNYhDHwR05Eoj2lvRw79MLcU95AdF-67JFsYQFb3xujbhWZn3D3qAuU4QjLBOMpWIWBv5fDR_aR0j73j2kJ2Lzu10jmp4-mVFCsoAry-O3A-L6XUdNI4V/s1600/Guunnar2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgxntfQX7ysSRrU4dORKXskxErNYhDHwR05Eoj2lvRw79MLcU95AdF-67JFsYQFb3xujbhWZn3D3qAuU4QjLBOMpWIWBv5fDR_aR0j73j2kJ2Lzu10jmp4-mVFCsoAry-O3A-L6XUdNI4V/s320/Guunnar2.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;">An hour later Monty announces dinner will be served in a little bit.
Parents corral their offspring, getting them to settle a bit before
making them sit down. Stoney promises them more music after dinner, but
only if they are good. Gracie pulls herself up straight and looks
solemnly at her father. "Papa', you told Mama' we are always good. That
it is... rel-uh-tif."<br /><br />A booming voice echoes up the hallway. "Ja, Kinder sind alvays gut. Eben ven nicht so gut. Ist chust deir vay."<br /><br />"UNCLE
GUNNAR!" The children rush enmass to the giant as he hangs up his dark
cloak. Mera wraps her arms around a leg and hugs him, but peers past him
down the hall. The Viking lays a hand on her head, tousling her blue
black curls.<br /><br />"He ist coming little vone. He hast missed his
*kleine monde. Ach, vho ist diss strapping jung man!" He raises Ryan up
to his shoulder, settling the little fae on the broad perch. "Kviet
Ryan. OY, Du hast grown little varrior!." He slaps a large hand to his
forehead and huffs through his bushy moustache. "Nein, nicht kinder! Ist
such a handsome band uf Varrior Lads and Shield Maidens." He leans
down, balancing Ryan easily, and whispers loudly, knowing all the
parents will hear him. "Vat say du. Ve pester deine parents und you
feast mit Oncle Gunnar tonight?" <br /><br />The children put hands over
their mouths and nod ecstatically, all except Mera who watches down the
back hall. A cloaked figure emerges and the little girl's eyes light up,
only to sadden when Dmitri pushes back his hood. The Greek smiles at
her and winks. Mera sighs and Graci takes her hand, tugging her along
with the others to ask their parents' permission. Gunnar commandeers a
table and gets Monty's attention. <br /><br />"A round uf chiuce und milch for my Varriors, mein gut man!"<br /><br />Mera
climbs into a chair and bites her lip, eyes still on the hallway.
Gracie touches Mera's hand and tara's voice murrmurrs softly in the
little halffae's mind. <i>Oncle Gunnar said he's coming. Don't cry Merri.</i> She nods and takes a sip of her juice. <br /><br />Large hands cup her shoulders and a soft voice whispers in her ear."Did ye miss yer old Da, Little Moon?"<br /><br />Mera
scrambles out of the chair, nearly spilling her cup. Keon scoops her up
in his arms, wincing slightly under the force of her hug. "I'll take
that as an Aye."</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-85570066278592102512015-10-18T18:24:00.004-05:002015-10-18T18:25:37.573-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJZPWVLGIuwaQrprslHNZCnTUiSGFN6iXCAGAStraKSwoqP_h5Ij-GRUu0mUUPME0atURrV5ShOgozAeYCU_lyXC3e1Ix-NKCavXi6vgn7arzkqgX3jkhSn8Lad4K12GO7Nr1w646zUMJ/s1600/Tori2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJZPWVLGIuwaQrprslHNZCnTUiSGFN6iXCAGAStraKSwoqP_h5Ij-GRUu0mUUPME0atURrV5ShOgozAeYCU_lyXC3e1Ix-NKCavXi6vgn7arzkqgX3jkhSn8Lad4K12GO7Nr1w646zUMJ/s320/Tori2.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">With the kids occupied, Stoney and Tori pull the draping covers from
their keyboards.They turn on switches, checking over the long neglected
instruments. The electricity hums bringing alive lights. Their eyes
gleam as keys easily move and notes echo over the sounds of playing
children. It isn't until they hit the rythem switches that the little
ones come running.<br /><br />Stoney pulls the tie from his hair, shaking
the mane loose around his shoulders. He grins at his sister from under
his long dark bangs.<br /><br />"Beethoven."<br /><br />She grimaces, wrinkling her nose. "Dead Mau5."<br /><br />He sticks his tongue out at her. "Tech Jukebox."<br /><br />A shudder and sigh. "Beethoven would be better, anything but TJ."<br /><br />The dark haired gargoyle bends under his keyboard, checking a connection. "T.S.O."<br /><br />The redhead laughs, green eyes flashing. "Ok, Trans Siberian Orchestra. But I get to pick the first song."<br /><br />She flicks a few switches, setting the beat and tone. "Flight of the Bumblebee."<br /><br />Stoney laughs. "Fine, then Lauper's She Bops."<br /><br />Tori frowns. "Lauper is not techno."<br /><br />Stoney winks, "Will be when we play her stuff."</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-5089400001000859962015-10-18T18:23:00.003-05:002015-10-18T18:23:36.618-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforz1Zv0-NsLX_lvXonWDjEIu4nXAlcmOA3Wjq_VEJWfu_Cdcz3u6mjxgQen7IM7Kx4rNCNRR9-e7Pt_3DQE04DKtuKzHk5bDcEPsbhUtuFVfAX1PY3QqxiWMQEGzbxSZgl0UYlIMMKvE/s1600/Obsidian.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="99" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforz1Zv0-NsLX_lvXonWDjEIu4nXAlcmOA3Wjq_VEJWfu_Cdcz3u6mjxgQen7IM7Kx4rNCNRR9-e7Pt_3DQE04DKtuKzHk5bDcEPsbhUtuFVfAX1PY3QqxiWMQEGzbxSZgl0UYlIMMKvE/s320/Obsidian.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The sudden draft of frigid air heralds the opening of the Tavern door.
Heads turn to the figures in the door. The squeals of excitement send
Demifae flying for cover as the children converge on the new arrivals.
Tannr finds himself tugged toward the makeshift fort before he can even
take off his coat. He laughs, and sends Tori a rueful smile. <br /><br /><i>I warned you. The boys couldn't wait for you to get here.</i><br /><br />He
winks at his wife and lets the little ones wrestle him to the ground,
as he clasps hands in greeting with Drai. Tori grins, holding her laptop
high above young hands as the girls escort her to the family table.
They babble, telling her in high pitched tones about all the plans. Tori
looks over the young ones heads and grimaces at Pandora. "Now I know
why the Demifae took to the rafters." <br /><br />At her words, Gracie
covers her mouth, eyes wide. She touches Mera's arm and the other girl
falls quiet as well. Chloe turns to Gracie as Tara looks up, closing her
eyes as she sends feelings of remorse toward the hiding Fae. The little
one nods and chirps a few times. Miko and Rachel drift slowly downward,
followed by Mya. Landing on the family table, they listen and nod
slowly. Their words are rapid, and even though Miko is frowning and Mya
stands with hands on her hips, the tone is not angry. Rachel looks back
and forth, worry obvious in her stance. After a few moments Gracie nods
and Rachel relaxes. Her usual smile returns and Rachel flits to
Pandora's shoulder. Miko returns to the rafters as Mya gives her wings a
final flick before walking over to settle on the edge of a cookie
plate. She swings her feet as she picks up a crumb and nibbles at the
sweet tidbit. <br /><br />Chloe looks up at her parents, aunts and uncles.
The self appointed spokesman presses her lips together for a few
moments. It is obvious that all the girls are talking through their
link, Mera using Gracie's touch to hear and talk to the others. It is
only a few moments before Chloe nods and tells the adults they are
sorry. "Miko reminded us we is inside and sounds are different for their
ears." She looks at the petite warrior as he settles on the table top.
He nods as she continues. "We can be loud, scream, laugh... but no
screeching." She looks down at him and he nods. "We..." she pauses a
moment, trying to remember the words he told Gracie. "We are little
girls, not shrieking banshees or..." she makes a face trying to say a
word, "chit..." She looks quickly at her father, then lowers her eyes.
"demons." <br /><br />Ob laughs, quickly choking it back and failing
miserably. "*Si Gitanilla, mis piedras preciosas. If you get too... If
you reach "demonic" tones again, I will have Miko chase you all down for
punishment." The warrior salutes him with the tip of his sword,
flourishing a dramatic bow. When the winged man turns to the girls, they
glance at Ob, then run screaming for the private room where Pandora has
laid out paper and every crafting supply she could find. Laughter
erupts as the children vanish behind closed doors. Miko zips into the
air and winks at Ob before flying off to watch over the girls. Pandora
shakes her head and Mya looks up curiously. <br /><br />Alise leans close to
Pandora. "Does Miko know about the demon blood?" Pandora grins. "Yes. I
don't know what creature he called them, but at least it wasn't
Chupacabra." At the confused expression on Alise and Star's faces,
Monty, who was setting a pot of coffee and mugs on the table, coughed
and explained. "Teri and Chloe were using Tori's laptop to look for my
race in Spanish myths and came across that. Teri thought it was a
gargoyle and wanted to know if it was related. When Ob told him it
wasn't, he wanted to know if it was demon and when we could invite one
to dinner. I said it wasn't a very good idea." Monty rolls his eyes.
"Then he wanted to know if they were good to eat."<br /><br />Pandora crosses her arms, cocks her head at her husband and heaves a dramatic sigh. "He is <i>definitely</i> his father's son."<br /><br /><br />*Yes Little Gypsy, my precious gemsMortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-40971907653420930112015-10-18T18:20:00.004-05:002015-10-18T18:20:52.574-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5iK0lxKOewG7Hy263YHP96gl_8OBREKrwPmTACP40eL5ufum0LSNieOhwgkgEXB555EsCpIbSdqJZse__3o4wQhoOSQpgsQBx5UuOg-1axfNd0iSaNrMFzLjRtrj6cBEEn76rBQMUM2J/s1600/Alise3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5iK0lxKOewG7Hy263YHP96gl_8OBREKrwPmTACP40eL5ufum0LSNieOhwgkgEXB555EsCpIbSdqJZse__3o4wQhoOSQpgsQBx5UuOg-1axfNd0iSaNrMFzLjRtrj6cBEEn76rBQMUM2J/s320/Alise3.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Smiling as she packed things Star turns to Wish and asks
if her and Pike would be able to watch the animals until the family
returns.<br /><br />“It's only for the weekend Princess. Wont the animals be
fine....?” Erik asks only to kick himself mentally, knowing his wife
would just “know' what was needed.<br /><br />“The weather is going to change....” Stars words are interrupted by Meras shriek of “Da!” <br /><br />Star gives Erik a saucy grin, “I hope we can have our old room again, the one with that big cushy chair...”<br /><br />Erik
returns the grin and pulls Star into his arms. As he buries his face in
her silver blond tresses and breathes deep of her woodsy scent, he
thinks to himself for the thousandth time how lucky he is.<br /><br />Had
they known Pandora was busy making plans there would be no question as
to what room they were in. Pan made sure everyone had “their old room”
and had planned activities for the kids, stocked up on food and drink
and agreed to book the new band that Ob had thought everyone would
enjoy. She was in her element, planning for her guests when Rowan comes
in the front door. Chloe and Teri race to see their grandma Rowan,
excitedly telling her of the families plan for a weekend get together at
the Tavern.<br /><br />Laughing Rowan takes a seat and pulls Teri onto her lap as Chloe climbs onto the stool next to her.<br /><br />“Mama says all the kids are coming to stay and we gets a sled ride with a horse!”<br /><br />“ohh what fun!” Rowan grins at the childrens excitement. “A sleigh ride.. I cant remember the last time I did that....”<br /><br />The
sudden squeals of delight and Teri slipping off her lap has Rowan
laughing at the children. Alise and Stoney have arrived with their brood
and Laila just as Drai arrives from the back escorting Chiara and Ryan.
The boys are immediately off to make a fort under one of the tables,
Ryan scooping up Teri, much to the little ones delight. The girls
congregate at the family table, as Chloe excitedly tells them all her
mother has planned. <br /><br />Alise grins and joins Rowan while Stoney
takes their bags upstairs to the rooms the family will occupy during
their stay. She sighs loudly, feeling relaxed and happy to be among
friends. “This will be so nice for all of us I think. The little ones
have not seen each other for so long.... Rowan, have you heard about the
weather? Star seems to think we will be here longer than just the
weekend....”<br /><br />Rowan nods, “Well, she might be right. A possibility
of blizzard conditions late Sunday afternoon. I have spent my day
making rounds of all my patients, just in case.”<br /><br />As the women
talk Laila glances around the Tavern. Only the families and a few
patrons at the bar. Drai notices the sigh and the look of disappointment
and joins her. <br /><br />“The one you are looking for... he will be here
shortly... “ Drai smiles at the light that comes to Lailas eyes and
turns to join the boys in their game. He leaps onto the table supporting
the fort with a battle cry that startles the entire room but had the
boys laughing like hyenas and running out from under the blanket walls,
toy swords in hand, ready to do battle with the demon attacking their
fort.</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-44277916972614704462015-10-18T18:19:00.003-05:002015-10-18T18:19:49.072-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74rlNz1NSM9F3pn4qJxPJG1AZKGyTvSBVwyjb4DjKesSwGdYAaiDJO7ZFXbbGLZFJ9d_r_Ggf4gg2f_2dVELTkArhOyI-VoG_3fPNnsMLoqDhHMvUtis8strw2A7zapmmCCdZDtP-xKVT/s1600/Monty.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74rlNz1NSM9F3pn4qJxPJG1AZKGyTvSBVwyjb4DjKesSwGdYAaiDJO7ZFXbbGLZFJ9d_r_Ggf4gg2f_2dVELTkArhOyI-VoG_3fPNnsMLoqDhHMvUtis8strw2A7zapmmCCdZDtP-xKVT/s320/Monty.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The Twisted Tit Tavern was a whirl of activity. The smells from the
kitchen proved Monty had been up from early on creating culinary treats
in preperation for the influx of people, especially the children. He
always made treats for Chloe and Teri, but now he had the rest coming,
as soon as Stoney rose in the late afternoon.<br />
<br />
He looks over the
list of things he needs and speaks to the teen now helping him in the
kitchen. As the kid disappears Patti swings through the door and grins
at him. She boosts herself up on the island and swings her booted feet
back and forth.<br />
<br />
"So. This should be a documentary... the Marmurr in its natural habitat."<br />
<br />
He
gives he a raised brow and bows his head slightly. "No offense Mistress
Patti, but..." He flips her off and returns to measuring out cocoa
powder.<br />
<br />
Patti points her nose in the air and sniffs. "I am hurt
Monty." He watches her from the corner of his eye. "And to think I came
in here to talk to you about a way of freeing yourself..." Monty nearly
drops the measuring cup into the bowl of batter.<br />
<br />
He carefully
places everything on the counter and turns to face her. "Mistress, a
Marmurr is bound to a family, a bloodline. We can't be freed." he
frowns. "Unless you plan to kill...me..."<br />
<br />
Patti laughs. "And have
Ike out for my hide? Hell no! But don't you want to make choices for
yourself without having to worry? I know I did. I hated being under
someone else's control." She waves a hand at him, multi colored nails
sparkling under the bright light. "No. I mean free you. I was thinking
of asking Silk and Dr. M. if they have any ideas. Keon too." She hops
off the countertop, snagging a sweetroll from where Monty wouldn't see.
"And I ain't talking about tying you to someone else." She looks up and
around the room, "Or somewhere. Think about it." She pushes open the
kitchen door and sashays out to Monty's murrmurred. "I know you took
one."<br />
<br />
Alone, Monty opens the door to the far pantry and looks at
the crawl space he used to call home. A blanket and several pillows are
still tucked under the bottom shelf, along with the few treasures he had
accumulated before Patti had claimed rightful ownership. He looks at
his hands, large capable hands, and smiles, remembering the small
childlike form he had for so many centuries. Patti had given him leave
to take the form he wanted. He picks up the bowl and absently folds in
the cocoa powder. A small smile curls his lips. Now she offered to find a
way to free him, truly free him. He begins to whistle a lively tune,
already forgiving the pilfered sweet.Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-60471090182823038702015-10-18T18:17:00.003-05:002015-10-18T18:17:46.771-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDdQkX7-wh6OF_6EZyUesxtkd2z6yzDihlsGC4VLefwoZx9JNfmlZYwwGil_Vp0BMbztgAqaNsTGHXeSijwQzdivaklUBLct2T_d5w6DrTpFtPoLbJm1iUYI8kKXCqwuXCudAP_uuKn3Y/s1600/Meanwhile.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDdQkX7-wh6OF_6EZyUesxtkd2z6yzDihlsGC4VLefwoZx9JNfmlZYwwGil_Vp0BMbztgAqaNsTGHXeSijwQzdivaklUBLct2T_d5w6DrTpFtPoLbJm1iUYI8kKXCqwuXCudAP_uuKn3Y/s320/Meanwhile.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The
winter hit Exton with a vengeance that year leaving little time for any
celebration of the Drows defeat. Even holiday celebrations had been
quiet family affairs, travel made difficult by the piles of snow,
dangerous icy roads and bitter cold. The gars had no trouble getting
around when they changed but the cold made carrying any of the children
almost impossible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Star
didnt mind all the snow and cold. She took Ru and Mera out often to
play in the snow. Mera loved the cold weather and seemed to burst with
energy in it, often leaving her hat and mittens to lay in the snow. The
wolves also were enjoying the snowy weather as was Tannrs small fox who
blended in perfectly with the white landscape. To Tannrs amazement Fox
would allow Star to pick her up and carry her, rubbing her head against
the faes shoulder. Erik was not surprised however, having seen Star
befriend any creature she came across except for the goblins. Nadia was
growing and thriving under Stars and Eriks care although she didnt like
the cold and preferred to stay with her father near the fire when the
rest of the family was outside. Erik didnt mind staying inside with his
adopted daughter and a special bond began to form between them. On
these days Mya would venture out with Star but would return to the
warmth of the cabin long before anyone else was ready to come in.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">At
the cottage Stoney and Alises children were constantly in and out of
the house, cabin fever in full swing. Plans for the school and Chiaras
move had to be postponed until the weather was calmer but there wasnt
much left to do to get the school ready for the children. Tomas had been
frustrated at playing with his sisters and longed for Ryan to be able
to join him in his games. Alise thought she would lose her mind long
before spring arrived but a sudden January thaw and temperatures rising
to 35 degrees for the first time since winter had hit had her on the
phone with family and friends planning a weekend at the Tavern. When the
kids heard of their mothers plan and realized they would be seeing
Chloe, Teri, Ryan, Ru and Mera their joyful screams had Alise laughing
and covering her ears.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Mon Dieu! I think Mortuis can hear this at the Manse.... </i><span style="font-style: normal;">Alise
sends her thoughts to her resting husband.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Stoney laughs softly,<i> I think we all need a little break, even Laila is looking worn out....</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Alise
nods, her thoughts moving to how long all the Riders had been gone.
They seemed to disappear after the attack on the Drow. Rowan seemed to
think that Marc would visit any day now and Star would only say the
Riders would be back soon. Alise hoped so, she knew Laila missed Ramji
more than she would let on. </span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-20116406151584496132015-10-18T18:15:00.003-05:002015-10-18T18:15:42.444-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforz1Zv0-NsLX_lvXonWDjEIu4nXAlcmOA3Wjq_VEJWfu_Cdcz3u6mjxgQen7IM7Kx4rNCNRR9-e7Pt_3DQE04DKtuKzHk5bDcEPsbhUtuFVfAX1PY3QqxiWMQEGzbxSZgl0UYlIMMKvE/s1600/Obsidian.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="99" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforz1Zv0-NsLX_lvXonWDjEIu4nXAlcmOA3Wjq_VEJWfu_Cdcz3u6mjxgQen7IM7Kx4rNCNRR9-e7Pt_3DQE04DKtuKzHk5bDcEPsbhUtuFVfAX1PY3QqxiWMQEGzbxSZgl0UYlIMMKvE/s320/Obsidian.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Ob stands on the balcony, watching his wife sleep. She moves slightly,
shifting into a shaft of moonlight. The dark hued Deamon catches his
breath. His pale blue eyes gleam, the jewelled tones of his rigid mane
glow from within as desire rushes through him. Even after almost a
decade together, she still arouses him.<br /><br />A soft stroke along his thoughts brings a smile to his scaled visage. <i>I assume you are enjoying the view?</i>
The purr in her words rumbles through him, setting fire to his groin.
Already made of rigid, Ob swallows a groan as his cock hardens even
more. <i>Will you be staying out there all night? Or shall I entice you inside?</i><br /><br />Her
hands begin a slowly carressing slide from breasts to thighs, pushing
the blanket from her nude form. A slow growl escapes his lips. His
forked tongue flicks out, tasting the pheromones filling the bedroom. Ob
closes his eyes, concentrating on changing his form and not the erotic
show of his wife's fingers dancing along her mound and teasing the dark
curls framing her now glistening folds. His form ripples, shrinking in
on itself as he releases the excess elements of his Deamon form. His
mane softens, becoming his normal shoulder length messy waves. His hand
finds his cock, seeking the spines that grace his Deamonic cock. A
relieve breath escapes when he feels nothing but flesh.<br /><br /><i>Playing with yourself... soo sexy...</i><br /><br />Ob
steps through the open balcony doors, still shedding his Deamonic
persona. He says nothing, eyes glued to her naked form. Her fingers
slide along her slit. Raising her hips, Pandora spreads her slick folds
and begins to stroke over her clit. Her fingers dance, sometimes dipping
in and out, moaning softly. Ob stll says nothing, keeping his thoughts
hidden as well. Pandora begins to thrust her hips, moaning as she
watches him come closer. She adds another finger and begins to thrust
harder. Ob reaches out and captures her wrist. He leans over her and
sucks her wet fingers into his mouth. Still forked, his tongue wraps
around the fingers, stroking them clean. Pandora moans softly. <br /><br />Grasping
her legs, Ob tugs, sliding her to the bottom of the bed. Dropping to
his knees, he pulls her legs over his shoulder and presses his mouth to
her wet snatch. His tongue dances over her clit, then thrusts deep. The
forked tip flutters inside, making her squirm. She moans and tries to
buck against his mouth. He nips at her clit and she yelps. He growls
softly. Pandora moans, raising her hips. His tongue slides along her
slit. As his tongue presses against the tight pucker of her ass she
trembles. When his tongue slips inside, Pandora tries to lift higher.
She whimpers as he slips from between her legs.<br /><br />"Bruha..." His
voice is low, a gravelly rumble, heavily accented, r's rolling in his
need. "I have two tails rrright now." He mounts the bed, knees
straddling her chest. His throbbing cock nudges her lips. Pandora
eagerly sucks him deep into her mouth. Her tongue strokes along the
underside of the head and he shudders. A moan of pleasure shivers
through him from cock to tail tip, vibrating along her clit as he rubs
the soft pointed tip of his tail through her moist heat. She moans
louder as he flexes the tip, then pushes into her tight cunt. He growls,
reigning in the urge to thrust both cock and tail deep.<br /><br />"Arren't
ye glad my tail is flexible?" He slides his tail, thrusting slowly. Her
moans vibrate along his rigid length. Ob grits his teeth, fighting for
control. He slowly pulls away, groaning as her teeth scrape his shaft.
"Nay Bruha... I'm not cumming that way."<br /><br />He helps her up, moving to lay back. "Strrraddle me. Fuck me, Bitch."<br /><br />Pandora
slides over him, grasping his cock to position it at her opening. He
braces to push up into her, but instead shudders as she slides the broad
head over her clit. She smiles down at him, black hair tumbling around
her moonlit form. The contrast of his own earth toned hands cupping her
full white breasts makes his cock jump, bring a soft sound from her.<br /><br />"Now
Brrruha. Orrr I will not be rrresponsible forrr what hole I fuck. And I
WILL fuck you ha" His words are cut off as Pandora rocks over him,
forcing his cock deep into her tight channel. She shudders and moves
slightly, adjusting to his thick hard length. Ob growls. His large hands
grip her hips and he bucks, sinking his length deep. Pandora squeals,
breath coming in harsh pants. His hands slide up her back, forcing her
foreward. <br /><br />"Hold still. Do not move, mi amorrr, bésame...kiss
me." His lips slide over hers, teeth nibbling, pulling her deeper into
their kiss. He feels her relax and pulls out slightly. As she shivers in
pleasure he thrusts into hard. Her groan deepens as he lifta his knees,
spreading her legs wider. The tip of his tail strokes along her tight
pucker. Pandora trembles, groaning into his mouth. <br /><br />He breaks the
kiss, lips barely touching as he breathes in her pants. His tail
presses harder and she rolls her hips. "Si orr no?"<br /><br />Pandora
whimpers. "Yes, si... gently?" Ob kisses her and presses harder, feeling
her open slowly. With a quick thrust, he sinks the flanges tip just
inside the tight grasp of her muscled ring. Pandora whimpers into his
mouth, and he waits, letting her adjust. He feels her relax slightly and
flexes his hips. When she moans, Ob begins a slow thrust in and out of
her body. Pandora presses her hands into his chest, nails scraping.
Pushing up, Pandora watches his face. She digs her nails into his chest,
and smiles as his eyes slit and his chest vibrates with an unreleased
groan. She begins to slide, fucking herself on his cock and tail. She
rolls her hips, moaning softly as he flicks his tail deep inside her.
She closes her eyes at the feeling of the pressure of her double
penetration.<br /><br />Ob rolls, trapping her beneath him. He rises up,
pulling her legs over his shoulders. Pandora gasps as Ob takes control,
raising her hips and deepening the thrusts in both her cunt and ass.
Pandora writhes, tossing her head as Ob plunges in and out. A wicked
grin curls his lips and Ob maneuvers a hand over her mound. His fingers
find her clit and he begins to rub, pinch, and tug. <br /><br />Pandora
begins to thrash, bucking hard on each thrust, whimpering on each
outward stroke. His mind slips into hers, stroking along her arousal,
building her even higher. He can feel her on the edge, both mind and
body close to shattering. He pinches her clit, rolling it between his
finger and thumb as he lets her feel his own impending explosion.<br /><br />"NOW mi amorr... Now!"<br /><br />Pandora
arches as her orgasm explodes, implodes, shatters her entire being.
Just as the world begins to come back into focus, Ob thrusts deep,
filling her with himself and his scalding hot need. She screams, echoing
the shout that explodes from his deep chest.<br /><br />Minutes later, he
lets her legs slowly slide from his shoulders. He carefully pulls his
tail from her and eases off her. Brushing damp hair from her face, he
stretches out beside her.<br /><br />"Wow... So this is what happens when you play with death magic..."<br /><br />Ob's eyes widen."How..?"<br /><br />"I'm a Witch. I can smell it." Pandora smirks. "and I can read your mind, butt head."</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-49904459950082446402015-10-18T18:13:00.001-05:002015-10-18T18:14:38.140-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSPoN8UsN6Oex4WlbKMooDEn8DwoUBnE756U5eK9oUazxYEm3Eu6idIaHQcCemVpYcX9klEJzec2iKrSO4VWdpb7e_sNGpbD6xZIyps-Vq-y6POO7y9N456GNMAq1MWu01BGhojG5yhEti/s1600/Gareth4.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSPoN8UsN6Oex4WlbKMooDEn8DwoUBnE756U5eK9oUazxYEm3Eu6idIaHQcCemVpYcX9klEJzec2iKrSO4VWdpb7e_sNGpbD6xZIyps-Vq-y6POO7y9N456GNMAq1MWu01BGhojG5yhEti/s320/Gareth4.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">When the sorcerer approached me with what I regarded as a
near-impossible task - to force-grow a hawthorn hedge to a height of
six feet or more, in an area glutted with Cold Iron, all within the
space of three days - I very nearly laughed in his face. Fortunately for
my continued good health, I managed to stifle the impulse. I did
manage, I think, to convey a sense of how difficult such an undertaking
would be, whereupon the mage assured me that he was counting on just
those factors to come into play when the Drow stepped into our trap. The
presence of so much iron would weaken and destabilize their Gate; the
hawthorne - a notoriously difficult plant to work with - would inhibit
if not actually negate their magic. He listened to me very patiently and
then nodded once. "Do your best." That was all he said.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">Thus
began three days in Hell, three days during which I battled the
debilitating effects of Cold Iron to force an unnaturally rapid growth
of a plant whose very nature disrupts and warps magic. I began at dawn
and wended my way home at dusk, too exhausted to do more than snatch a
quick meal and reel to bed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />By the end of the third day, I looked
like I had been on a week-long hunger strike; but by the gods, the
hedge was ready, and you have read already of the yeoman's service it
gave us in our fight against the Dark Ones.<br /><br />Ah, but I crave your
pardon. I forget that not all are familiar with the ways of magic. Know,
then, that hawthorn has for centuries been known as a spellbreaker, a
protection against dark magic. A hawthorn flower carried on one's person
renders that person proof against all but the most potent curses - and
even these are apt to go strangely and subtly awry in the immediate
neighborhood of hawthorn. Fashion a wax doll - a poppet, as we call them
- in the likeness of your enemy and pierce it with a thorn from the
hawthorn and your enemy will suffer injury or pain where the poppet has
been pierced.<br /><br />But I digress. The hedge protected our folk from
the Drow's magic and the iron shot provided by Sieur Jack was more than
they could withstand. (Mem. - Strive to stay on Jack's good side.)<br /><br />A
very little more remains to be said. In recompense for the three nights
that I was incapable of even self-gratification, each of my lovers
chose one night and pleasured me into near-unconsciousness - and when I
recovered, they began again. Thus it is that once again I am
exhausted... but in a much more pleasurable fashion.</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-60343460704241770922015-10-18T18:11:00.002-05:002015-10-18T18:11:51.031-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4OIeMR4OQ-gOdypG46chdjFySw7MEu8_iO4O2SKOr4Jm9vf-LU9rUSx6q9XaUnU6lhX2P9l_md-5cPU-giAVI1xV8Z2-Wm8H-MF7r9rrEBsUvj7cWfj29DjosdvxbxGYONFJFSS6dnqvD/s1600/Nathlyn.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4OIeMR4OQ-gOdypG46chdjFySw7MEu8_iO4O2SKOr4Jm9vf-LU9rUSx6q9XaUnU6lhX2P9l_md-5cPU-giAVI1xV8Z2-Wm8H-MF7r9rrEBsUvj7cWfj29DjosdvxbxGYONFJFSS6dnqvD/s320/Nathlyn.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Nathlyn comes to with a heartfelt groan, hissing with
pain as he tries to sit up. For a moment he sits motionless, assessing
his injuries. His collarbone is broken, as is his left arm between the
shoulder and elbow. He has managed to acquire a fine collection of
bruises on his trip through the Gate and he stands before he can stiffen
up any further.<br /><br />There! Some twenty yards away lies the unmoving
form of the Priestess. Nathlyn takes a step in that direction; as little
love as he has for the damned woman, his duty is clear. He has taken no
more than three steps when he is hammered to the ground by an
irresistible force; his teeth click together and he shrieks as the
broken ends of his collarbone grind together.<br /><br />When the pain
becomes bearable, he looks to see what felled him - and looks into the
glazed, unseeing eyes of one of his soldiers. The face is a mask of
blood; Nathlyn stares, frozen - then inches out from under the corpse.
The maneuver raises his eyes skyward; in an instant they widen in shock
and Nathlyn throws himself face down, covering his head with his sound
arm. Suddenly it's raining corpses, the bodies of his men falling to
earth, landing in twisted, unnatural poses. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The
grisly bombardmemt ends as quickly as it began. Nathlyn swears
fervently as he recognizes one face, then another. With sudden resolve
he turns and reaches the Priestess' side. He examines her quickly and
dispassionately. A broken hip, a broken forearm and wrist and what feels
like a cracked skull. For just a second he considers if it might not be
more merciful to end her suffering - but only for a second. She's still
a priestess of Lolth and to kill her - even as an act of mercy - would
be the most horrible blasphemy. They would never stop coming for him.<br /><br />With
the last of his fading strength, Nathlyn sends out a Call to the
nearest Temple; then, thoroughly drained, he falls unconscious next to
Ardara.</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-82970163466803997642015-10-18T18:10:00.003-05:002015-10-18T18:10:29.410-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforz1Zv0-NsLX_lvXonWDjEIu4nXAlcmOA3Wjq_VEJWfu_Cdcz3u6mjxgQen7IM7Kx4rNCNRR9-e7Pt_3DQE04DKtuKzHk5bDcEPsbhUtuFVfAX1PY3QqxiWMQEGzbxSZgl0UYlIMMKvE/s1600/Obsidian.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="99" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforz1Zv0-NsLX_lvXonWDjEIu4nXAlcmOA3Wjq_VEJWfu_Cdcz3u6mjxgQen7IM7Kx4rNCNRR9-e7Pt_3DQE04DKtuKzHk5bDcEPsbhUtuFVfAX1PY3QqxiWMQEGzbxSZgl0UYlIMMKvE/s320/Obsidian.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The Fae Lord raises another Gate, this one with less vibrant colors.
The green and yellow swirling within slowly darkens. Shapes appear.
Trees sway, leaves shivering in an unfelt breeze. Bodies rise, shuffling
at first, then moving in a macabre dance toward the pulsing gate. They
tumble through, disappearing from sight. <br /><br /><br />A trickle of bits
and pieces follows the bodies, mixed with dead leaves and dry twigs. The
trickle becomes a stream, flowing around the dancing Deamon and falling
through the Gate. A breeze sweeps through the clearing, pushing the
last fragments of torn flesh into the Gate. As the wind dies, so does
the echo of Mortuis' chanted spell. Keon lets the Gate snap shut and the
men turn tired eyes on each other.<br /><br />Ob breathes deep. moaning
softly. He drops to the ground and takes another deep breath. A groan
escapes as he exhales. His great horned head hangs slowly. He looks up
at the others with a crooked grin. "That felt good."<br /><br />Lumbering to
his feet, the Deamon concentrates. His body shivers, condensing until
horns softens into a flowing jewel-toned mane and the large frame
reduces to human proportions. He shivers again, a shuddering that
ripples through him like a contented hound.Ob stretches, joints emitting
loud pops. He breathes deep again.<br /><br />"I can still scent blood, but the smell of sweet earth and leaf decay nearly covers it." He grins at the other two men. "Anymore evidence we get to destroy?"</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-35558219050541968742015-10-18T18:08:00.007-05:002015-10-18T18:09:34.445-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforz1Zv0-NsLX_lvXonWDjEIu4nXAlcmOA3Wjq_VEJWfu_Cdcz3u6mjxgQen7IM7Kx4rNCNRR9-e7Pt_3DQE04DKtuKzHk5bDcEPsbhUtuFVfAX1PY3QqxiWMQEGzbxSZgl0UYlIMMKvE/s1600/Obsidian.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="99" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforz1Zv0-NsLX_lvXonWDjEIu4nXAlcmOA3Wjq_VEJWfu_Cdcz3u6mjxgQen7IM7Kx4rNCNRR9-e7Pt_3DQE04DKtuKzHk5bDcEPsbhUtuFVfAX1PY3QqxiWMQEGzbxSZgl0UYlIMMKvE/s320/Obsidian.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Obsidian lands just outside the fight zone. He breathes deep and
shudders. A surge of energy rushes through him and he feels the Deamon
inside take notice of all the carnage. He growls softly, grinding his
teeth. The pair within the zone turn their eyes on the gargoyle. His
voice is gravelly due to his still stone form.<br /><br />"I came," he clears his throat, the sound a harsh grinding,"I came to see if you needed any help." He licks his lips as his eyes softly glow. He flexes dark granite wings and breathes deeply. "Allah... That feels sooo good."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />His
skin ripples, a liquid movement of flesh. Blue infuses the dark granite
and he shakes like a large dog. Scales form, shading the stone to even
more shades of blue. The Gargoyle raises his head and shakes it,
horntips catching, and reflecting, the light of the rising moon. He
blinks Deamon slitted eyes and smiles a mouth full of pointed teeth. <br /><br />"*Vamos chicos ... me deja jugar también?" A worried look crosses the Deamon's face. "Just..um... Let's not tell the wife?" <br /><br />Keon looks at Mortuis and quirks an eyebrow. The Sorcerer laughs, the sound both surprised and chilling. <br /><br />"No
fears on that point Obsidian Heart. I believe none of us would wish
your wife to know of this. Keon, are you ready to open another Gate?"
When the Dark Fae nods, the Sorcerer smiles even though it only shows
with the glinting of his eyes. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"I believe these warriors would best rest at Home."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">*Come on guys... let me play too?</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-13896144742248994582015-10-18T18:06:00.003-05:002015-10-18T18:06:18.569-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0glgh57613jen_D0NGJWRxdNDRDDqsF0jCrGstTZT-LyvQXevAlRLULZfnzsB2TC0ZO3FQjJOmFT73MEK2GkgQPaFBSmK1JkujlKGBZqvRUdk_X67sM1xH9spbEngsqT8crt9mQbdx1D/s1600/Keon3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0glgh57613jen_D0NGJWRxdNDRDDqsF0jCrGstTZT-LyvQXevAlRLULZfnzsB2TC0ZO3FQjJOmFT73MEK2GkgQPaFBSmK1JkujlKGBZqvRUdk_X67sM1xH9spbEngsqT8crt9mQbdx1D/s320/Keon3.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">After a few moments, Keon raises his head. His breathing has returned to
a steady rythm and he wipes the sweat from his brow with a steady hand.
The eyes he turns on his friend are still emotionless, although small
lights seem to glitter in their depths. He surveys the hacked remains of
their foes and shakes his head slowly.<br /><br />"She wastes her people as if they are nothing but meat."<br /><br />The Sorcerer nods in agreement. "To her, they are."</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-159027424545113982015-10-18T18:05:00.001-05:002015-10-18T18:05:33.014-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0glgh57613jen_D0NGJWRxdNDRDDqsF0jCrGstTZT-LyvQXevAlRLULZfnzsB2TC0ZO3FQjJOmFT73MEK2GkgQPaFBSmK1JkujlKGBZqvRUdk_X67sM1xH9spbEngsqT8crt9mQbdx1D/s1600/Keon3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0glgh57613jen_D0NGJWRxdNDRDDqsF0jCrGstTZT-LyvQXevAlRLULZfnzsB2TC0ZO3FQjJOmFT73MEK2GkgQPaFBSmK1JkujlKGBZqvRUdk_X67sM1xH9spbEngsqT8crt9mQbdx1D/s320/Keon3.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Aftermath:<br /><br />The view is not unlike any other battlefield the Dark
Lord had ever seen before. The smell on the other hand... The difference
is the stench of Cold Iron and the burning bite of Steel. Keon closes
his eyes, fighting past the pain eating through his personal magik to
the blank plain deep within. A small breath of relief escapes his lips
when the familiar nothingness envelopes his mind. A cold smile touches
his lips, curving them slightly. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />He stretches his neck, feeling
tight muscles pop. Magik floods over him in a sheen of sickly green. He
opens his eyes and turns to Mortuis. Gone is the Merry Minstrel,the Boon
Companion. What stands before the Good Doctor is someone few have seen
and even fewer have survived. The timbre of his voice is as dead as the dark depths of the Dark Lord's eyes.<br /><br />"Is all in readiness, Master Sorcerer?"<br /><br />Mortuis
assesses the Fae Lord. Haloed in a whirlwind of yellow-green eldritch
energies, the man's flesh resembles an oily spill. His eyes are shrunken
to pinpoints, upper lip curled back in a feral smile. the Minstrel is
overlaid - perhaps overwhelmed? - by the Assassin, Mab's own Right Hand
of Death. But, because of the bond between them, Mortuis can <i>Feel</i> that Keon is not utterly lost to them. He's still there, just subsumed for the moment in the rising tide of dark magic.<br /><br />"The
engine was backed up the tracks a good mile." He adjusts his gloves,
tugging the cuffs to snug the leather encasing his hands. "Wish assured me it will not interfere with your own casting." Keon nods once. "I have
picked my spot to send most of the iron. Much of it, but not all. Can
you open a Gate to these coordinates?"<br /><br />Mortuis rattles off
longitude and latitude. Keon takes a deep breath and holds his hands
outward. He moves them slowly, gracefully. The Gate that forms is unlike
any the Sorcerer has seen before. An eerie mist swirls upwards. It
dances, a demented flame of yellow and green, shot through with black,
purple, and blood red. Keon turns his dead gaze to his companion.<br /><br />"Naught and None await beyond. 'Tis clear for the nonce."<br /><br />Words
are muttered, head bows, arms stretch wide, and hands beckon. Loose
shrapnel gathers, rising into a trembling cloud. It slowly drifts away,
drawn to the swirling Gate. As the first bits of iron and steel
disappear into the flames, the Magicks merge. A wind rages through the
haze of metal, twisting and tugging it into a whirlwind. The metal
shards disappear nearly as fast as Mortuis can collect it. Within twenty
minutes only bits and pieces flash through the gate. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />The men drop their castings simultaniously. Both breathe deep, regathering their strength before the next stage.</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-49089642170340551752015-10-18T18:02:00.002-05:002015-10-18T18:02:19.675-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdKG1ee2wPuZ5jjQVXzZI7NYVZNxIekckBfl7g_CtJIJp-hjheFG2TNCUhvLBM_0TcCuOBZbla19quNIZxHHHfDv7kt57XtcwnQdl6HZ4PNzbqqHgLGv562wddBYYjJbwUPOJfM_UaMYA/s1600/jackstone.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdKG1ee2wPuZ5jjQVXzZI7NYVZNxIekckBfl7g_CtJIJp-hjheFG2TNCUhvLBM_0TcCuOBZbla19quNIZxHHHfDv7kt57XtcwnQdl6HZ4PNzbqqHgLGv562wddBYYjJbwUPOJfM_UaMYA/s320/jackstone.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The Gate went down after the shooting started - even I could feel it - leaving the Drow with no option but to stand and die.<br /><br />Sorry, I don't feel up to quips just now. Maybe another time.<br /><br />What
we're doing is necessary. I keep telling myself that as I fire and fire
and fire again. Inside, I understand it to be true; but I feel sick at
heart as I do what I have to. I swallow it down, keep targeting, keep
firing.<br /><br />From the corner of one eye, I see the priestess edging
toward the defunct Gate - and it starts to glow. I snap a shot in that
direction, but i'm too hasty; it misses.<br /><br />"Doc!"<br /><br />The hooded
man raises his blade high - and lightning slashes out of the sky as the
ground suddenly rumbles, thrumming with the deep-toned scream of a
locomotive.<br /><br />It's going to be close.<br /><br />The Gate blossoms into
full manifestation as the train bursts into the clearing, screaming
like a banshee - tons and tons of steel, rushing right at the priestess.
She throws herself at the glowing opening, but one of her men suddenly
tackles her, wrapping his arms around her slender waist and hanging on
for dear life.<br /><br />Literally.<br /><br />It's anything but graceful, but
somehow the pair stumble, stagger and fall through the Gate just before
the train hits. The Gate winks out of existence, and we're left standing
knee-deep in dead bodies.</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-53531517348613345612015-10-18T18:01:00.002-05:002015-10-18T18:01:25.613-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Qi9zZsUlhN5PH9I7sQEOVMvL6JCxebgSmnAiAIyIA_7U6c_qHWwuTbMdMYG2cliBOUn3g3cYh59ljih-0HAxof2JywZk7_ilHQsbeuLTbPloh4zj1ASUvABZdlZv4aeiOVTtVtx8mfdC/s1600/Nekron.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Qi9zZsUlhN5PH9I7sQEOVMvL6JCxebgSmnAiAIyIA_7U6c_qHWwuTbMdMYG2cliBOUn3g3cYh59ljih-0HAxof2JywZk7_ilHQsbeuLTbPloh4zj1ASUvABZdlZv4aeiOVTtVtx8mfdC/s320/Nekron.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The Drow die like anyone else.<br /><br />Their situation was
hopeless from the beginning. The hedge prevents escape on three sides -
hawthorne is major magic-bane, I'm told - and our fire is concentrated
on keeping them away from the Gate. Boxed in like they are, they can't
even rush us; they'd be cut to pieces.<br /><br />They die bravely, if that
counts for anything after you're dead. Not one man retreats; a few tried
to bring their bows into play early on, but all that meant was that we
targeted the bowmen first. I'm going for mercy shots, one-hit kills;
beside me, Raina is doing the same thing. Jack is like the fuckin'
Terminator, but without the Schwarzeneggerian muscles. For all the
emotion he displays, he might as well be playing eighteen holes of golf.<br /><br />A
very few of the remaining Drow make a break for it. Dragon burns two of
them down in their tracks and Phoenix swoops down to snatch up a third,
carries him high into the sky and ignites like a supernova.</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-41849495700804457912015-10-18T18:00:00.001-05:002015-10-18T18:00:10.055-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglxkFeS4kC1A1lRIYZPL_SVMGaQFxnkV4KdwC5fyV-NDyC56FnIuFr21_3m_dncKf_OfhG0ji8KHhkfRBpN0XmFlk-DOkM967jmEB_FnJm2qlyoqNOIBREXijV-ItOgsemJ1dAzGOypGlG/s1600/Erik.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="113" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglxkFeS4kC1A1lRIYZPL_SVMGaQFxnkV4KdwC5fyV-NDyC56FnIuFr21_3m_dncKf_OfhG0ji8KHhkfRBpN0XmFlk-DOkM967jmEB_FnJm2qlyoqNOIBREXijV-ItOgsemJ1dAzGOypGlG/s320/Erik.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Fire!"<br /><br />With that single
word, the glamour that kept us hidden shimmers out of existence - but
it's too late, our arms are leveled and we're firing as fast as we can
pull the trigger.<br /><br />I would serve under Mortuis in any army. He
directed the location, the tactics and the weaponry - shotguns, mostly
the pump variety, with a few double-barreled shotguns in case pumps
aren't fast enough. Jack ordered thousands of rounds of ammo - shells
loaded with steel shot, as lethal to the Drow as their own Bal-Char.
More so; even a graze begins to decay as if touched by acid.<br /><br />This isn't a battle, not really. The Drow don't have a chance.<br /><br />This is a massacre.<br /><br />I can't find it in my heart to feel bad about it. We didn't seek them out, they came to us. Now they pay the price.<br /><br />The
air is full of the deadly steel shot and men die as it rips past their
armor as through wet cardboard; it tears into their flesh and begins
devouring them from the inside out. Nick and Raina stand side by side,
firing almost as one, but it's Jack that surprises me. His face is a
mask, his eyes cold and bleak and empty; he lines up each shot with care
and is lining up the next before his man falls. There's no humanity in
his face, no pity - no emotion of any kind. He's like a killing machine,
no less than one of Lily's Claymores.<br /><br />We keep pouring it on. "No survivors" is the order of the day.</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-17002637990175987082015-10-18T17:58:00.002-05:002015-10-18T17:58:48.985-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGvfZtUfKFdCH7uNLiDEj5ag6Rv_VO09kF7LPXyMKjpXWPFUjMv3YUjVPlEPpnpMvoJD0FCevnB98fNExuiK7asyTf4wQH8oSOFjHLWncv1D5Him33gx_lGDZN0BOzfsmP6KTR_klXhHwJ/s1600/Dragon.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGvfZtUfKFdCH7uNLiDEj5ag6Rv_VO09kF7LPXyMKjpXWPFUjMv3YUjVPlEPpnpMvoJD0FCevnB98fNExuiK7asyTf4wQH8oSOFjHLWncv1D5Him33gx_lGDZN0BOzfsmP6KTR_klXhHwJ/s320/Dragon.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Dragon swoops over the treetops and the few remaining fae pile on the
cocoon. Mortuis' voice rings clearly through the commotion at the base
of the tree.<br /><br /><i>Fire!</i><br /><br />Dragon does just that. A burst
of flame sweeps the Drow trying to reach the boys. Their screams are
enough to cover the audible POP of Wish's bubble as it whisks her
charges out of the fray. Star and Alise open the cocoon and gather their
boys close as Stoney blocks the battle from their minds.</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-85835305733569557882015-10-18T17:56:00.004-05:002015-10-18T17:56:55.097-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQ4hK9IK3SuVO3Byfe8XmjwlokCiB5av18YVd1sR5uI_dySG1kkO7tERkslEySsXJI_B0hVENaMcDKpZcBxydX_vGUuB-XymS875n3qFEetscntxMIgDEBd6StxFgNNX5wR1ZFVcDSqEq/s1600/Mortuis4.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQ4hK9IK3SuVO3Byfe8XmjwlokCiB5av18YVd1sR5uI_dySG1kkO7tERkslEySsXJI_B0hVENaMcDKpZcBxydX_vGUuB-XymS875n3qFEetscntxMIgDEBd6StxFgNNX5wR1ZFVcDSqEq/s320/Mortuis4.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I am myself again.<br /><br />It has been long since a
necessary adjustment to a battle plan caused me such anxiety. Perhaps it
was overdue. I should have remembered the maxim, "No battle plan
survives the first engagement."<br /><br />I strain my eyes, but Dragon,
Phoenix and Raven are too high for my vision to follow. Fox serves as
our eyes on the ground. Dragon and Phoenix serve as a second wave if
such is needed, or they can pick off stragglers if necessary. All is in
readiness. I repeat it to myself like a mantra and after a time I even
begin to believe it.<br /><br />There is an upper limit to how many troops
can be Gated in, and I think Ardara must be very near that limit. I have
counted some forty-five soldiers, three officers, one toady, and Ardara
herself. These figures agree with those provided by our other scouts.
They have formed up in orderly ranks, awaiting orders - all the better
for our plan.<br /><br />The clearing they have chosen - though at our
instigation, did they but know it - is bounded on three sides by a
hawthorne hedge, some six or seven feet in height and thickly overgrown.
The fourth side is where they have erected their Gate. There is room
for no more than three men to pass at once. Circumstances are as nearly
perfect as even I could wish.<br /><br />I scan once more, carefully, to
insure that none of the Fae - other than the Dark Ones - are within the
area. Keon, Gareth and K'thyri will have to be content behind the
lines....<br /><br />I draw my blade with an audible rasp and give the order. "<b><i>Fire!</i></b>"</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7579984139283932866.post-85929614446345195612015-10-18T17:55:00.004-05:002015-10-18T17:55:27.014-05:00<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDdQkX7-wh6OF_6EZyUesxtkd2z6yzDihlsGC4VLefwoZx9JNfmlZYwwGil_Vp0BMbztgAqaNsTGHXeSijwQzdivaklUBLct2T_d5w6DrTpFtPoLbJm1iUYI8kKXCqwuXCudAP_uuKn3Y/s1600/Meanwhile.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDdQkX7-wh6OF_6EZyUesxtkd2z6yzDihlsGC4VLefwoZx9JNfmlZYwwGil_Vp0BMbztgAqaNsTGHXeSijwQzdivaklUBLct2T_d5w6DrTpFtPoLbJm1iUYI8kKXCqwuXCudAP_uuKn3Y/s320/Meanwhile.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">Sitting in the shade of the large tree in the small clearing, the boys
look over the small pile of stones the other children have gathered.
Tomi picks up one, shows it to Ru, and tells the little boy it wouldn't
be big enough. Ru nods and picks another, larger, stone.<br /><br />Mera and
Gracie are not far away, sorting through sticks.The others are closer
to the treeline, searching for fallen materials. Shadowy figures begin
to appear in the gloom beneath the leafy canopy. The children seem
oblivious until blue hued forms drift past clumps of thorny bushes and
into the clearing from the surrounding trees. When the last figure
drifts past, thin vines snake from clump to clump. The Drow, intent on
the children before them, never see the openings close.<br /><br />The
children back away from the newcomers towards the big tree. Their small
forms create a half circle around Tomi, Ru and the trunk. The children
assume defensive positions as Ru slips closer to Tomi.<br /><br />The young
Gargoyle concentrates as he watches the approaching foe. His skin tinges
grey and his small wings seem to expand a bit, becoming leathery as
well. Chloe raises her hands to ready a spell, but before she can do
more than flex her fingers a large blue hand encloses her wrist. He
smiles at her, satisfied with her apparent shock at capture, until her
soft flesh changes beneath his touch. Chloe bats her eyes and giggles,
then collapses, becoming nothing more than a marionette without strings.<br /><br />There
is a series of quiet pops and the glamours disappear. Wooden poppets
wearing clay pendants stand between the Drow and Tomas and Ru, who
remain unchanged. Tomas slips his hands under the smaller boy's arms. Ru
flexes his knees surging upwards in a practiced move that lets the
young gar lift them both from the ground. Tomas strains to gain the
branches above their heads, fighting a dread that they wouldn't make it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />Closing
his eyes, the boy surges upward, frantic at the sight of a Drow
reaching for the pair. Hands close about his waist and Tomi screams in
anger,lashing out with a clawed foot. It takes a moment before the boy
realizes he isn't being pulled down, but passed upwards. He stops
struggling, trying to see who is helping them. There is a rustle in the
leaves and a small wizened face raises a gnarled finger to her lips,
signalling silence. She points down. Leaves shift slightly, opening a
view yet screening the boys from below.<br /><br />Far below, Drow seek a
way up the tree. Thrown ropes slip from limbs. Climbers find no sturdy
beanches for their weight. What seems to hold, suddenly bends, giving no
foot hold.<br /><br />The woman grins at the boys. Her weathered face
creases with her smile and she leans close to the trunk of the tree,
nearly disappearing from sight. She whispers something and leaves begin
to rustle. She interlaces her fingers and the sound increases. The boys
look around warily. She points to a mass of vines as they writhe,
weaving themselves into a tight hammock. Leaves bud, growing rapidly to
fill the swinging bed. The woman motions for the boys to climb in. They
look down again, seeing some Drow turn while others begin to hammer
climbing spikes into the trunk. The tree shivers. The small wood brown
woman motions more urgently to the boys.<br /><br />A slthering draws their
attention. All three watch as a glistening black diamond shaped head
rises from the leaves. It flicks its tongue in greeting and nestles
itself on the hammock. Ru tugs at Tomi's hand and the pair join Viper.
The woman motions and two demifae dart inside as the Hammock grows into a
large cocoon, closing itself tight. Insdie, Ru holds out his hand and
Viper slithers up his arm. His bare hand touches Tomi's stone flesh and
the boys share a thought. <i>Trust.</i> Viper watches the demifae as
they dance among the leaves. The vines thicken, becoming wooden ropes
instead of flexible vegetation. The two draw swords and disappear
through the leaves to watch for the enemy.<br /><br />The boys stiffen as
thoughts touch their joined minds. warily they open. Alise strokes her
son's mind while Stoney holds both boys in a warm mental embrace.<br /><br /><i>Where are you Tomas?</i><br /><br />The boys try hard not to giggle. <i>High up in the tree.</i> He looks around. <i>We are... A Treelady made us a nest and hid us. Viper and two winged people are here too.</i> Ru reaches out, seeking his parents.<br /><br /><i>Your
ma'man and daddy are proud of you, Ru. Just like Oncle Stoney and I are
proud of you both. Now... stay put. We have someone coming to get you.</i> Alise sends a feeling of love and pride to the boys.<br /><br />The boys nod. Tomi makes a face when he realizes they cannot see them. <i>Oui Ma'man, Pa'pan!</i><br /><br />With
the closing of the caccoon the Woodwife looks upwards. Pike has settled
on the top of the pod, watching upwards as well. Wish drops down from
upper branches. She motions to the pair and then scampers upwards,
watching for the signal from Raina's dragon.</span>Mortuishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11012789152896899042noreply@blogger.com0