February 18, 2003

There was a sharp crack as her mace struck the carapace of the Olthoi and the creature fell to one knee. As it struggled to regain its footing, Madison raised her mace to strike the Olthoi's skull. It was unable to deflect the blow with its pincers, and her mace shattered the creature's exoskeleton. The insect let out a dying wail and ceased its struggle.

Her companion, Gruvlin, glanced over from the creature he was busily looting. "Did you ever think you'd see it?" he asked.

She and Gruvlin had been dispatched by the High Queen to determine if the rumors trickling in of creature migrations were true. The number of Olthoi they'd encountered was all the proof Madison needed that at least some of the tales were true. Yet the question of why remained unanswered.

"No," Madison said wearily, her voice laden with weight. In every direction she heard chittering and saw the claws of Olthoi. "This makes no sense, Gruvlin."

"Sense or no, it's true." Gruvlin smiled as he held up a necklace fitted with a bright fire opal. He thrust the necklace into a pack, reached down to the corpse again, and pulled a key from the gullet of the creature. After wiping it clean of ichor, he clipped it to a ring he pulled from his pack.

He slowly stood and said, "Let's continue our patrol."

"A raid?" Marvus gripped the strap of his shield tighter. "Good, let them come! We shall spill their blood on the field of battle this day." He snickered. "The Chorus of Mages remains unaware of our new armaments. They shall at last feel the bite of my blade whilst I wade through their hail of summoned fire and acid."

As he stroked his beard, Asheron continued, "You see Ciandra, this island was once a place of rest for the ruling Yalain, although it was already steeped in history and shrouded in a great number of mysteries that your people are still discovering."

Asheron had arrived at the Temple of Forgetfulness the day before and had asked Ciandra to show him around. He was quizzical and jovial, more so than the last time she had seen him. Now, as he poked into the corners and inhaled the air heavy with pollen, it almost seemed to her that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"It's been centuries since I have seen this place. Little has changed, other than the baths are shallower and the steam vents are filled with the former caretakers-turned-assailants." He paused for a moment, and turned toward her. "Some day, I mean to gather as many golems as I can and fix them." Then a wry smile crossed his face. "Though there are other concerns, I suppose."

He then turned to one of the bookcases on the wall. "Ah, the memories of this place. I don't believe that we ever found the source of the magic here. We of course had our speculations, but nothing was ever discovered. These fountains would rejuvenate my race. We'd feel younger from being here for but a few moments, as if we were bathed in the potency of the very thing that created all that there is."

He turned to Ciandra once more. "I wouldn't be surprised if your discoveries here have begun a process that will open your bodies and minds to greater knowledge and ability." His eyes turned, and he seemed to be looking into the distance. "Of course, there is never anything that does not come at a price. I wonder what that price will be."

Aerbax's thoughts appeared in the mind of the Master. "Now, subject, you shall be exposed to the source of energy for a period of time. If all goes well, you shall be enhanced as Puppets before you have been. Are you prepared?" The Master's affirmative response was quick in coming.

"Puppet, let the exposure begin," Aerbax commanded.

The floating slab inched closer and closer to the inky darkness floating in one corner of the room until finally thin wisps of pure black stabbed out of the darkness. The wisps infiltrated the Master's cloak, and Aerbax could see the violet color of the cloak change. As the color shifted to deep maroon and then to the bluish purple of midnight, a shrill squeal tore through the room. Finally the squeal stopped, and Puppet pulled the slab back from the darkness and released the subject.

Aerbax nodded in satisfaction. Another success.

February 20, 2003

Not all that happens in Dereth shakes the world, but even small events can leave mysteries behind them. One such begins in the town of Rithwic...

Delton Hardor was surprised by Tamian's sudden interest in challenging him to combat, even if that combat was only with wooden practice swords. Tamian had never shown interest in swordplay or combat before. Nor, in Delton's opinion had Tamian ever shown interest in anything that benefited the community. He did not hunt, did not farm, did not craft items of utility, and certainly did not help defend Rithwic, even from the Drudges. The look on Astara's face seemed to imply she thought his behavior was strange as well.

Although his grip on the wooden sword was unsure, Tamian seemed more determined than Delton had ever seen him. Curious to see how he would react, Delton allowed Tamian the first attack. After Delton easily parried his thrust, Tamian hesitated, almost as if he realized how out of place he was. Then the hesitation passed and Tamian swung at Delton's legs. Delton parried this one as easily as the first.

"Honestly," Delton thought as he moved in closer to Tamian. "Tamian handles that sword like a farmer swinging a hoe."

Delton delivered a swift blow to Tamian's sword arm, throwing him off balance and spinning him around. He followed this with a blow to Tamian's backside. Delton could not help but laugh at how ridiculous all this was. Did Tamian actually think he stood a chance?

Tamian's face turned red. He leaped at Delton, swinging wildly. Delton's well-practiced parries blocked the blows, and he swatted Tamian again and again. This worthless cur would learn a lesson today.