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Post by clivedauthi on Jan 14, 2010 7:10:30 GMT -5
*A large black tome sits before you, on its cover a gold embedding forms a design of two women facing one another swords in hand; the edges of the tome have been carefully decorated with silver; the entirety of it glows softly with hard to see wards which seem to glow a soft violet and move like water under the tome’s skin*
*the pages are soft and of the finest quality, written with a dark lavender ink with the most careful of penmanship, the very pages seem to move like water as various wards float across them in an unending flow*
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Post by clivedauthi on Jan 14, 2010 7:11:05 GMT -5
The world is an endless source of pleasure and amusement, I have tried my best to upkeep my people’s traditions and codes and pass them to my children, whom of late seem nothing but a source of my migraines and disappointment My own son now in love with a mortal woman and within her belly my grandchild grows. A hybrid of a hybrid, such things a few years back before I ventured to this realm seemed impossible; perhaps the ancient curse is weaker here on my genetic bloodline.
But my son, in “love” is a disappointment to no end, did I fail to raise my own son as a Lourien, did I let these elves and humans corrupt his values.
He has seen to few wars to settle with one mate, and “love” is something I still will never understand, perhaps my race is to distant to understand it as humans and elves do. My lover Hadarah is the closest I believe one as I can feel such a piety emotion, though I fear for her that her heart will one day break at my emotions. Such is as such will be, Noir bless.
The hunger has returned to me, I had thought when Hadarah returned from the palace of the Empress it would remain sated for some time, but nay it will not leave me. My house has always had it, endless Dauthi died for it.
And I will as well.
Within our blood is the element of pure energy, lighting, electricity, power, whatever one wishes to claim it. It is said as our curse we will always desire more power, wherever it lies, or whatever it may be.
I have done many things in these last six years; I have acquired political power, many allies and countless enemies. I now stand as a high vassal of the Empress and at my hand is near endless resources within my faction.
But it is not enough, I still desire more, I hunger for more. The power to with my own two hands change this world, command armies, crush my enemies, and above all bring glory to my Noir, forever shall they reign.
Now the winds of war are brewing, and I both fear and hope they have come to the Islands. I hear now that the elf king Casca is suspected to be somewhere within the realm of the Empress.
I know not if such is true, I will have to seek an audience or ask my lover to ask on my behalf.
If it is true and not by her blessings I will drive this man to his death for his intrusion upon our lands, and stand ever greater chance of gaining power once more.
But if it is by her hands, war will come and I will defended her lands with my every ounce, even if it means I finally must face those that I have so fought against in these past sex years once more.
I both fear it for the lands and peoples sake, but I desire the battle within my very blood.
Cale has left, I fear he has ventured to far and challenge one to strong in his endeavor, I wish my son where more like that boy. He will be a good assist to my cause, though I fear he grows to close to those of Yew I have sent him to spy upon.
Such is, as it will be.
Noir Guide Me, to my Death or Glory, all for you my love Rebirth, all for you.
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Post by clivedauthi on Jan 14, 2010 7:11:58 GMT -5
They are growing more violent, and I wonder know if this is a sign of accomplishment or something to push a moment of concern within my thoughts. Another two have broken out within the last week, though slain before they reached they could ascend to the experimental floors, the number is enough to warrant some caution on my part.
I will plan to send more guards if I can find those qualified, a qualification I am finding very few have within these lands, most humans are simply unwilling to do the task needed, or to weak.
The Doctor has spoken lately of progress on some of the more deeper held subjects, enough promise that if they where ever to break free I would have a run for my money to undo the breach.
That pleases me, we have lost too many as it is, to many set backs. I admit though I loath the Shadowlords, they have proven the utmost useful in providing a distraction to this world.
It will still be some time before they will be ready in confidence of the Doctor, but I am willing to wait for it, to wait for That.
Cale still remains missing, he has set out on his task and I grow in worry that I have once again lost a decent pupil to the annoyances of this world. Never the less if he can not best such a thing, he is not worthy to occupy my shadow as a student.
Acacia has accepted the wedding invitation of a human, My senses are in joy for her happiness, I know she has longed for this for some time. Though my mind grows in worry for my friend and her human companion.
Will she be able to if he will not discard his vows fight what she is, or will I have to hold her as she cries, in the aftermath of her uncontrolled rage from the bottled up urges of her kind, I wish not to see my friends in pain though even with all my strength I remind myself once again this is not something for me to place my hand in. I will have Deidre pray to the Noir for something to lighten the role she must play, perhaps I will teach her the techniques of my people to damper the vices that plague myself and my kind, though if it will hold true to one the changing breeds I know not; it has been many, many, eve since I have had in-depth dealings with those species.
Hadarah, my lover and gem, grows cold. I can see it behind her eyes as she smiles at me; I can see the coldness of the realization that her father wishes her life. She says she can kill him without my aid, though I know that when that blade strikes her father’s flesh she will strike her own heart. She is not as I am, she will not watch her father’s body fall to the floor limp in death, as I watched my father’s body do those many years ago, with emotion held at bay. This though is once more beyond my power, I can not hold her hand in this affair of blood, lest I spoil her. I have challenged her to better herself and grow stronger, and I see it plagues her soul to the core that I ask it.
Though if she grows to hate me and turns away from me, I will rest in knowing I at least molded her into her full potential.
I feel it stronger then ever now, eating at my very core the desire burning hotter and hotter threaten to revert me if I don’t concede. I must grow stronger once more or risk loosing everything, even if it means I must pass lines I wished not to cross.
Noir Bless me, for the world when I am done, will not.
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Post by clivedauthi on Jan 14, 2010 7:12:28 GMT -5
I fear while writing this, I fear this world will reject us. What would have happened if Deidre had reverted? I ask this question already knowing the answer, but it is something even my mind can not shake off. Would she have been killed, or would she become one of the wild ones, destined to be a monstrosity upon this world. In all of this, I have summoned my son, and last eve I told him of what he really is, I only prey to the Noir he does not hate me for it.
It was easier last eve, the tea helped but it was no easy task in the least. I can feel it still moving under my skin.
By Noir what would had happened if I had reverted, that I wish not even to ponder such thoughts are dangerous to entertain.
It will take me a few days to recover from the exposure; I will have to work to maintain my mind.
All Facility operations have been left in the hands of the doctor for now, I will focus my attention to the issue with the Aegis, and my sisters very slow recovery.
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Post by clivedauthi on Jan 14, 2010 7:13:04 GMT -5
In the presence of fear I find something I had lost a long time ago, hunger. Even now as I look into the face of my demon, I can not turn my eyes away; I stand in awe at the raw power of it, the power that lies deep inside of me; and I want it. That is our curse, the Dauthi clan, to see what we are and desire its strength, but know we can never have it, it will always be a dream cursed by the nightmare of the reality of its source. Can not I have both, can not I have this power but still remain Clive of Dauthi, the General of the Twilight and a noble Blade of my dear Noir. Or will touching this fire burn everything that I am, rendering only death and destruction to that I have worked so hard to contain. That is a question I will have to find out for myself, though it will be hard, if only I was within my own world I could seek the advice of the elder of my kin, those of legend whom seem at times capable of tapping into what is forbidden, yet the flames burn them not. Till then what shall I do, what will I a Lourien do. I ask myself already knowing the answer to my own words, tonight my blood runs thick and I feel as if the mysticism within my kin’s speech should manifest itself upon this ink. Power is a virtue to my people, and I will not shame them, I will contain my honor. If I am weak as I am now, even without the forbidden flame within my shell I will grow stronger, I will obtain more then I ever have. I have seen my reflection of late, and have seen only a monster. It is high time I act as one. But I must yet ask, the question I dare not say aloud, nor write within the common text. Will I become it, a...
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Post by clivedauthi on Feb 9, 2010 7:11:42 GMT -5
Movement is energy, and for every action I thus take I must expend this energy.
I have moved much of late.
With the visitation of Kanath to my personal fortification, a realm still hidden to all save only the few “trusted”; I have realized that both time and momentum may not lay within my advantage in these days of war and destruction.
As we sat for what seemed hours, perhaps it was the telling of time in the Tokuno evening seems harder for me then it was in other lands; never the less the time spent before the two looming statues of gemstones and metal which repented my Noir; a few moments where reserved for formalities and talk, though most where precise in the training I find myself in needed of.
It is an odd thing to be trained by one whom you have raised Axe and Spell to on more then one occasion. I sit now and consider my true relationship with many people whom I once thought of as pieces to be removed from the game of war.
But now?
I sat and saw Kanath before, now beautiful and young by some conception of either her heritage or the dabbling from some 3ed party which to me still lays unseen; Never the less she was before me.
We have raised sword against each other many, many times. I am unsure what in earnest she thinks of me; I of course know what she says of me when I ask it of her, but in my line of years and profession I have learned the tales of lips in open air are never the truths spoken in shadows and hidden councils.
To me though I find it oddly simple, even if the premise of our relationship is vast and complex.
She is; friendly prey. Or perhaps I should say, cooperating rivals. Of course this is only what lays in the back of my mind, buried under many such constraints of the current days. To be honest unto myself I think little of “relationships” in such ways these days.
Kanath has a skill which I both desire and need, we are formal and in earnest have more in common then one would first expect; and I speak save the more obvious connections as in the management of lighting through our veins.
Our training is long, and hard. I have not undergone such training in similarity in over two hundred years to man. It is more meditation, but so much different. As we close our eyes and the words of the Thunderlord enter my mind, as we reach out our connection and thoughts both outwards, and in.
The air grows heavy as we begin, I am growing use to the process, only the intensity of new levels of progression seem to halter me truly.
Colors, to those whom see us I imagine it would simply be colors clashing. To me and Kanath the levels of the interaction are too much for words. As we start the air about her burns blue, and about me yellow. I thought to ask in jest afterwards if where our powers meet green is molded, but I figured at the time it was to childish to bring forth even if in jest.
As I pull and push my own energy in the flow against her own, trying to wield my power to turn her power against herself. At the same time I feel the area around me, as my energy flows in a circle to protect me, I suppose some would call this a hyped up aura. Then is the beast, as I push out I must draw from in, and this time I feared I dipped the cursed gauntlet to far into the dark waters to drink.
I felt it, like the dark cold hand’s of something only evil could harbor gripping at my shoulder, pulling me down into the pool of darkness my mind clouding as more and more of IT became me.
Thankfully this was training, and Kanath had already prepared for if my limits where pushed.
For a few moments there it was, I will admit, the most intense exchange of power that I have had to experience for some time in this world. As my monster ripped upwards Kanath used a concentrated, or at least I perceived it as such, thick net to hinder the uprising demon’s madness.
The moment halts as all returns to calm, and our mental grips break from each other. We are both exhausted, it has burned many resources to hold the shadow back; and I know the feat of holding it down could have been no small effort unto Kanath’s part.
She takes her leave after a few words and I am left to my mind and ponderings once more.
I have gained much from this training, I now can feel its power below my own; it will be only time and effort till access to this power is freely mine without risk or hesitation.
I now turn my mind to the rising undead threat of those in Umbra; and of how the alliance which should stand high against them, of men, elves and changelings; now only exists to fight itself.
If not careful they will fall, overran as they stab themselves, and those of the undead only gladly stab them twice. I will turn once more my eyes to the world of man; perhaps there is still time.
Or perhaps the time has come and gone and it is indeed time for an age of shadows and death, I know I can ride out such a storm; but if the power in my blood and eyes can hinder it, would not it be better for me to have my dealings with those that breath, then those that don’t?
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