Somebody's soul is going to writhe for this. [completed]
Character(s): The Lone Power, a Lumen-wolf and the gate NPC
Content: The Lone Power is having a very bad day...which gets worse before it gets better.
Setting:Niflheim Gate
Time: very late Tuesday night
Warnings: Some more insight on Lumen history..and an uncharacteristic reaction to its “cleansing” methods. And...a bit of a unique style because of some key details.
To say the Lone Power was irritated was a massive understatement. One of his favorite constructs--a helicopter and its landing pad--had been ruined by moonlight and noonforged metal. Then, Michael's objectives--the wizards--had stolen HIS Book. And finally, they had managed to escape from Gram's pack due to an explosion of bricks. Needless to say, when he found himself outside the Niflheim gates, he was weary and furious. Worldgating without the proper equipment and restraints put a toll on anyone's powers. And due to his creation of entropy, it even cost him energy.
He was off to the side from the gate. Observing...the place seemed vaguely familiar. It felt familiar, but also wrong to him. He wasn't sure why...Then off in the distance, among some bluish-white grass, he saw something blue-grey.
Peryton was the first thought that came to mind. It looked like one of his slaves. Blue-grey with a wolf's body and angry humanlike blue eyes. His wearied mind was not registering that perytons do not have yellow extensions of light. Nor does their fur fluoresce. Quietly, he began to speak, but not in the language you’d expect from him. It was an interesting language, to wizards and most people it was called the Speech--the language of creation. You're one of Garm's people. You serve me...Protect my world from invasion in exchange for food and a home. Come closer. I want you to find the ones who stole my Book.
Maybe the creature understood. Maybe it didn't. Whatever the reason, it did come out of the grass. Out of hiding and closer to where the one who decreed darkness stood. About two feet closer, making it about a six-foot distance. It knew that this person was evil, bad, darkness. It knew what it had to do, too.
The Lone Power shifted uneasily as the creature began to glow. Then he realized why it felt wrong. That…glow…hurt… “NO!” The Lone Power cried out as he sunk to his knees. He hated light. He couldn’t make it. If this creature could make light he hated it more than anything. If his memories weren’t so scattered, he would have remembered that the creature not only could make light, but also knew his true nature and rejected him for all he and his Gift of destruction was worth.
From the ground, he managed to growl in the Speech, I’ll go. The creature toned down the glow only slightly and continued staring at him. As usual, with any bargain he made, the Lone Power left a loophole. He didn’t say where he was going to go. The fact that the light was still there was painful, but the Lone Power stood up anyway. Turning on his heel, he went toward the gate nearby with the crystals of silver ice decorating it. Of course, he didn’t really care. He never really cared for any creations other than his own anymore.
A tired gatekeeper addressed him, “Welcome to Paixao. Your name?”
Not in the mood to talk, the Lone Power took the pen and the paper in front of the man. After a few minutes debating a suitable name, he came to a decision. “Cordell Black” he wrote in an elegant script across the page. If you looked closely, the tails of the letters looked like they were writhing on the page as the ink dried.
The man handed him a black journal and the gates opened.
Once in the city, The Lone Power continued walking. This was the perfect universe--the kind of universe he had been trying to make. Dark, quiet, and the light wasn't real, but it was free. It didn't hurt. He also sensed a lot of things. Fear, uncertainty, blood, death. There was even a sense of darkness here moving around…And it was powerful. Of course he wanted it. But at the moment, he wanted to just sit down. He could play his favorite cat-and-mouse game with that power later.
Finding a place that seemed decent enough, he sat down and began working with the journal mini-computer thing. Mostly, he wanted to see if he could contact Michael and tell him that this was another failed attempt to capture him in one place.
Content: The Lone Power is having a very bad day...which gets worse before it gets better.
Setting:Niflheim Gate
Time: very late Tuesday night
Warnings: Some more insight on Lumen history..and an uncharacteristic reaction to its “cleansing” methods. And...a bit of a unique style because of some key details.
To say the Lone Power was irritated was a massive understatement. One of his favorite constructs--a helicopter and its landing pad--had been ruined by moonlight and noonforged metal. Then, Michael's objectives--the wizards--had stolen HIS Book. And finally, they had managed to escape from Gram's pack due to an explosion of bricks. Needless to say, when he found himself outside the Niflheim gates, he was weary and furious. Worldgating without the proper equipment and restraints put a toll on anyone's powers. And due to his creation of entropy, it even cost him energy.
He was off to the side from the gate. Observing...the place seemed vaguely familiar. It felt familiar, but also wrong to him. He wasn't sure why...Then off in the distance, among some bluish-white grass, he saw something blue-grey.
Peryton was the first thought that came to mind. It looked like one of his slaves. Blue-grey with a wolf's body and angry humanlike blue eyes. His wearied mind was not registering that perytons do not have yellow extensions of light. Nor does their fur fluoresce. Quietly, he began to speak, but not in the language you’d expect from him. It was an interesting language, to wizards and most people it was called the Speech--the language of creation. You're one of Garm's people. You serve me...Protect my world from invasion in exchange for food and a home. Come closer. I want you to find the ones who stole my Book.
Maybe the creature understood. Maybe it didn't. Whatever the reason, it did come out of the grass. Out of hiding and closer to where the one who decreed darkness stood. About two feet closer, making it about a six-foot distance. It knew that this person was evil, bad, darkness. It knew what it had to do, too.
The Lone Power shifted uneasily as the creature began to glow. Then he realized why it felt wrong. That…glow…hurt… “NO!” The Lone Power cried out as he sunk to his knees. He hated light. He couldn’t make it. If this creature could make light he hated it more than anything. If his memories weren’t so scattered, he would have remembered that the creature not only could make light, but also knew his true nature and rejected him for all he and his Gift of destruction was worth.
From the ground, he managed to growl in the Speech, I’ll go. The creature toned down the glow only slightly and continued staring at him. As usual, with any bargain he made, the Lone Power left a loophole. He didn’t say where he was going to go. The fact that the light was still there was painful, but the Lone Power stood up anyway. Turning on his heel, he went toward the gate nearby with the crystals of silver ice decorating it. Of course, he didn’t really care. He never really cared for any creations other than his own anymore.
A tired gatekeeper addressed him, “Welcome to Paixao. Your name?”
Not in the mood to talk, the Lone Power took the pen and the paper in front of the man. After a few minutes debating a suitable name, he came to a decision. “Cordell Black” he wrote in an elegant script across the page. If you looked closely, the tails of the letters looked like they were writhing on the page as the ink dried.
The man handed him a black journal and the gates opened.
Once in the city, The Lone Power continued walking. This was the perfect universe--the kind of universe he had been trying to make. Dark, quiet, and the light wasn't real, but it was free. It didn't hurt. He also sensed a lot of things. Fear, uncertainty, blood, death. There was even a sense of darkness here moving around…And it was powerful. Of course he wanted it. But at the moment, he wanted to just sit down. He could play his favorite cat-and-mouse game with that power later.
Finding a place that seemed decent enough, he sat down and began working with the journal mini-computer thing. Mostly, he wanted to see if he could contact Michael and tell him that this was another failed attempt to capture him in one place.