A Quest for Humanity

[Stormfollower]

Stormfollower looks at Mujbura and then at Jetamio.

"You sense it too?" He walks slowly to the lapping shore and focuses his mind toward the funeral barge.

"He is there... on the barge, and I don`t just mean his spirit. An embodied Remis mocks us from below decks. He watches us now through rotting eyes. He implores me to come into his trap there and makes no effort to disguise its intent. His arrogance has grown to eclipse even his devious genius!"

He looks back to his people scattered around the beach and immediately springs into action.

"Wolves, gather to me. We must make haste and head inland towards the sacred White River as it meets the entrance to our ancestral shrines. There we will make camp and be safe, for trouble follows us still."

Without pause he heads into the midst of his gathering tribe and hugs a few of the more frightened ones as he picks his way towards the sacred trail that will lead them inland.

[Mujbura]

Quickly to her feet she dusts the sand from her leather leggings as she looks out towards the barge. She didn’t understand how anyone could fear their own child so much as to have wanted them dead, but then she never had children nor anyone betray her so badly. While her mind struggled with the concept of family against family the whispers came even louder to her mind. Again they were not understandable and she peers towards the barge as if it would help her understand.

As always, she keeps an eye on Stormfollower as she helps some of the still weak and wounded to their feet. Even during this time of fear for their people, his tribe, the dealings with his son and even the new evil, he had managed to still be the strong leader and man she had known and admired, and yes, even loved. She smiles a bit as she watches him comfort those who are frightened and her heart warms through her chest.

As the tribe gathers and follows their leader to the sacred trail she is torn. Does she stay behind to keep his son from him? Or, does she follow and stay by his side, as was promised? While the tribe make their way behind their leader towards the trail she stands on the beach, hesitating. Suddenly she holds her hands over her head as the whispers sear into her mind. They were close, very close. Her eyes rose to look at the barge and she knew she had minimal skill against this kind of magick for it was not natures doing and there was a strength behind him.

More whispers begin to add to the mix and she shakes her head to stop the pain. She whispers her own prayer to the mother then turns to watch the tribesmen as they follow Stormfollower. Her tiny feet scurry to catch up each step a longer gate than the first, a gentle breeze flows through her hair as it shortens and with a leap she assumes the form of her mother. A pure white wolf gallops through the line of Northmen until she reaches Stormfollower. Eyes of glowing amber look up at him as she barks softly trotting next to him. She runs a few paces ahead and around the front of the line. Her feet jump and prance playfully so it is not obvious she is actually surveying the trail for safety.

[Gilliadson]

P`Nala urges the Shadowbanes to follow the rest of the survivors as she takes up a rearward position in the group... P`Nala feels Remis' presence from the funeral barge and casts her own wards to slow his progress should he try to give pursuit.

Willanaome stays close to P`Nala and beckons to the plants along the path to spread across it to further slow any followers.

Sineliniel summons a few small elementals to stand guard along the path and orders them to attack any who try to follow them.

Gilliadson and Myrikel help some of the weaker members of Stormfollower's tribe as they make their way behind their leader.

[Stormfollower]

Out in the bay the remainder of the Wolf Cult fleet sat secure on their hooks. All the tribal members were ashore and all was quiet aboard their vessels. All but one that is.

Something scurried upon the funeral barge of Remis as it sat furthest out from the rest of the fleet. Having the deepest draft the captain had deemed it wise to stay well out from the muddy bay bottom to avoid getting stuck when the tide went out. Its rich dark wood glistened in the light rain and all the statues and ornamentation seemed alive with the cascading drops. Intricately carved ravens and eagles played freely with each other and the deer and wolf carvings frolicked covering every free surface of the vessel. Her two masts stood higher than any other ships in the bay and her wide beam made her sit quite still in the light waves. Despite her dire purpose "The Deepening Void" was quite a hansom vessel.

Below the decks the two stowaways were now free to move about unheard. Remis hovered at a port hole, spyglass to his eye while Cerissa stood over the now opened coffin of his mortal remains. They had stolen aboard in the night while the fleet had made ready back at the Summer camp of the nomadic tribe. He knew that they would be heading straight here and had also let their route be known to the underwater magician through a unique bond they had shared since Remis had become a necromancer. He had hoped the magician could have finished his father off along with his pesky comrades yet had suspected it could not. Though now they had reached the Island of the dead he was confident that it was only a matter of time before he would be in control of the Wolf Clan and lead it to the destruction it deserved.

He watched as the tribesmen hurried after Stormfollower into the forest and chuckled at the sight of his father in full flight away from him. Oh how the tides have changed! He mused to himself.

Another twinge of pain as his "borrowed" flesh slowly rotted off him caused him to shudder and he turned away from the port hole to face Cerissa.

[Cerissa]

While he looks out the port hole cold-blooded eyes gaze upon the natural form of her toy. Cruel lips insinuating lust within the darkness turned upward as she thought death had complimented his human body. Making no attempt at self control she leans close to the body her breath lays like warm silk across the bare neck and face of his mortal form while whispering the sickly-sweet words of the destroyer of life. Slowly eyes of knowing turn toward Remis with a darker grin, knowing even from his distance he too could feel the warmth of her breath as if he had once again possessed his human body.

One reptilian eye closes slowly, reopening just as slow in a wink as she grins up at him. “Soon, my darling.” Her eyes return to the gray flesh laying within the coffin, she leans closer still inhaling slowly the marvelous smell of fresh death that fills her nostrils. She exhales slowly her lips slightly pursed as her breath covers over his face, again the warmth carries over to his spirit existing symbiotically within the rotting puppet. Deaths lips affectionately touch the lips of the dead in a gentle caress. “Soon.” is whispered upon his lips and Remis can feel and hear as if she were kissing and speaking directly to him.

Cerissa’s body rises to stand erect as she looks over at Remis with lascivious eyes. “Your vengeance nears, but the time is not yet.” Walking with sinuous, provocative steps, predatory eyes lock on the rotting pupils of Remis the puppet. Deaths hand drags atop the cold corpse, fingers turned slightly enough for his spirit to feel the pleasurable pain intended just for him. Her fingertips make their way delicately up the rotting chest of the puppet while grinning wickedly up at him. “You will conquer him, my darling.”

She pauses as the inhabitants which make the many layers of her robes form tiny, then thicker wisps, surrounding the two in the camouflage of the shadows. She rises to her toes kissing under his chin healing where she had previously cut him as they begin to fade still the cut now shows under her chin. Whispers of phantoms dance on her every syllable surrounding and consuming them as the two fade from view.

[Jetamio]

Jetamio frowned as she gazed upon the funeral ship. Picking up her newborn and taking the hand of another child, she turned and followed the procession led by her husband. She was glad to be heading inland into more familiar terrain, away from the sea and its lurking dangers. Living at sea was definitely not something she could ever endure.

She glanced at Tajer, wondering if she sensed what the others did for she was more attuned to the undead, but the Dark Elf was also herding a small band of children after Stormfollower and looking rather harassed by them which brought an bemused smirk to Jetamio's lips. On they went, being led into the unknown.

[Stormfollower]

They reached the White River and headed along its banks upstream. A sleek and wizened presence could be sensed all around them. First in front then behind and from several directions at one at some points in the trail. Clearly the guardians of the island watched their flanks.

Once they reached the source of the river Stormfollower ordered that the area be made defensible. All the children were to be taken beneath the falls and into the chamber behind them. "But no further!" Of this Stormfollower was adamant. From what anyone could tell he was breaking some tribal law or custom just by allowing anyone to cross into the sacred cave.

He then took a stance at the end of the trail they had just come up and waited. In silence once more.

[Gilliadson]

Gilliadson and Myrikel take positions between Stormfollower and the path they had come up with their blades ready. Sineliniel, P`Nala and Willanaome stand near the Shaman. Fluffy stands guard between the two Paladins. Willa commands the local plants to form a defensible barrier around the area. Lightning flashes amongst the clouds above and thunder rolls but no rain is falling... yet. Various animals stand watch outside the plant barrier. Sineliniel blows a kiss into the air and all of the defenders are enveloped by fiery shields. Gilliadson and Myrikel take turns calling up the blessings of Brell upon them all as well. Willa adds her thorny barrier to the blessings that are being passed out. No words are spoken beyond the mutterings of incantations and prayers. Once all is ready the two paladins quickly take turns resting to recover the energies they had spent. P`Nala's power helps speed that process.

Sineliniel moves to her husband and kisses him quickly before returning to her place.

[Zotreth Myurden]

Zotreth Myruden sat upon his Abyssal Steed as the Wizard of Innoruuk began conjuring the portal. Innoruuk had called to his servant, telling him that his Right Hand might be of need. He began readying himself mentally, for what might be to come.

"Hurry up Wizard!" Zotreth yelled impatiently. "Yes Vlos D'aron." the Wizard spat out and began the chant for a third time.

Eventually, the shimmering portal was opened and Zotreth rode into it. The magic swirled around him as it placed him as close as possible to the location of Cerissa. He gripped his sword tightly and closed his eyes, unknowing of the location where he would end up.

Zotreth opened his eyes and saw he was on top of a Hill, overlooking what appeared to be a River. He muttered a spell and his steed's feet rose above the ground. Urging his horse forward, Zotreth put his visor down and sheathed his sword. The Abyssal Steed traveled at amazing speed, eventually stopping at the edge of the river. The Bloodknight casted a dark spell to see if Cerissa might be able to detect the magic and show him the location of her whereabouts.

[Xar'Zith]

Tajer let go of the children as they were ushered into the cave. She sensed it was not a place for her to go, and she noticed that even Jetamio hovered just under the waterfall, guarding the tribes children. The heavy mist from the waterfall had already soaked the druid, her hair hanging in rat tails, but she did not seem to mind.

Suddenly she was looking around, her dark eyes seeking the dark places around their barrier of thorns. She had sensed the spirits that had been following them, but this was a new presence, one of dark intentions. She frowned, instinctively knowing it was not seeking her... but if not her, than who?

[Mujbura]

Being thus pure of no other, a wolf concentrated of the purest white leaps through the bushes sniffing the ground and air. Eyes aglow as if with an intense heat in an amber hue watch the group, with an exceptional eye on Stormfollower. Firm, muscular legs allow the pure wolf to leap and prance deftly with excellence. The patrician pride of The Mothers Mother well-bred into this child of Tunare. Never was her bloodline more lucid than at this very moment.

Still, the older members of the tribe watch her with a wary eye. Their lingering beliefs in the old traditions strongly woven into their hearts. Some usher their children away from the pure wolf, not even daring to allow their tiny feet to fall upon the same path. The pure wolf allows them the distance as she continues her survey of the front and sides of their path.

Soft barks chime as gentle as The Mothers Mother, Norraths, breeze when a somber scent is caught. Light steps across the foliage bring the wolf back to Stormfollower where his hand is nuzzled as she prances across his path. Thus being a gentle sign of some, presence, nearby and reassurance she will always be near. The pure wolf’s whispers enter his mind with delicate waves, though they both can hear the shadows attempting to separate their kinship with one another.

The tribes future lead into the protection of the cave, the strength of the tribe safeguard the area standing with strength along side their leader. Some minds question themselves as the pure wolf walks slowly past them. The island guardians speak directly to this child so closely related to their creation providing the knowledge of each foot that touches it. A canine smile stretches her lips as their reassurance of their relation brings her a bit of comfort. Muscular shoulders rub against Stormfollowers leg as the pure wolf reaches him before sitting next to him. Amber eyes aglow look upwards towards him, the gentleness of the young spirit within visible beyond Norrath’s grandchild blessed eyes of the pure wolf.

[Cerissa]

Before their lips meet a familiar chill crawls it’s way up her spine dragging a soft sigh from her lips and she lowers from her toes. Raising into the air one hand leaves his chest as she allows the release of a single shadow from the captivity of her robes. Silent instruction sends the shadow immediately toward Zotreth with the message only he would understand. This magickal release alone providing him the location of his Right Hand.

Within the belly of the funeral barge reptilian eyes, glowing with the gifts of the two Gods who allowed creation of the bastard girl, look into Remis’ dead eyes as she rises to her toes once more whispering against his decaying lips, “He will be here soon, my darling. You will have the deadliest Knight of Innoruuk at your side.” A hatefilled grin darkens her face as her lips curl into a devilish sneer.

(( Site wouldn't let me PM you, Zotreth. Check the Qu`ellar site for a message there. ))

[Stormfollower]

Remis smiled at the prospects. Everything was turning out according to his devious plan. He rubbed his hands together dislodging some dessicated hairs from the backs of them in the process. It was time to spring the coils of his mechanations.

Having blocked out the voices of the dead for so long now it was a rush of macabre energy to have their voices crowd his mind once more. Spirits of the ancient Wolf Cult had congregated here for eons there were the freshly slain from the battle with the Undersea Magician and there were some who were millenarian. From a time before the gods and from all time since the prescience of these dead was known to Remis and his to them. Communication without the bounds of a mediums clumsy ritual or a clerics staunch ceremony had never existed for them and they were desperate to make their stories clear.

The newly dead still wanted to say their parting words to those they loved and their words were foremost in the chaotic cacophony that only Remis and the those who had moved beyond could hear. Yet even their emotional cries were overpowered by the thundering voice of Remis.

"Come. " He beckoned to them "Make your tales clear to the one who leads your descendants."

Angry voices cried out in protest to the tensioned mind of Remis assaulting the hair line fractures that had begun to show on the surface of his sanity. They saw his plan as clear as Stormfollower had, yet their desire to vent and the built up frustration of trying to bridg the distance between their worlds was too much for them. They became whispy, semi-corporeal ghosts and flocked to him at once.

[Stormfollower]

Back at the waterfall a host of ghosts wisped intangibly by the gathered champions, issuing in a continuous parade from the mouth of the cave and directly from the crypts below. They passed quickly and silently, oblivious to the frightened gasps and exclamations of the tribes members. Out towards the bay they flew, passing through trees and people alike without any acknowledgment of their mortal solidity.

[Jetamio]

Jetamio shuddered in repulsion as the spirits of the dead sped past her and the children. The children crowded around her, eager to keep someone real and tangible within their grasp. With a soft word, she cast an Aura of Life around them all as deterant to any spirit that might try take possession of the young and helpless.